The Lone Call: Fists of Union (Arc II) [First draft]

*Interlude #2*

"Oh my. You sure are taking your time, aren't you, children? Good thing we have a nice tale going on..."

The Dragoness frowned as her offspring, Arslan and Kisara, made their entrance one after the other--Kisa wearing an azure silken dress while her brother showed up with a fur-trimmed leaf-green cloak over his formal daily garb. Their respective children looked up as well.

"Dad!" said Dista. "You came!"

"Mama!" Ishtar joined, half-leaving his seat in excitement, before deciding to restrain himself at his grandmother's displeased stare.

Kisara noticed her son and smiled warmly. "Been good, Ish?"

"Sure thing!"

"Apologies for this tardiness, Father," Arslan said. "Kisa seems to have taken quite some time picking the most perfect dress."

"Yeah?" she put her hands on the hips. "Like you wouldn't do the same with your robes, Brother."

"Enough," Mustafa cut in. "I won't have you bicker before your own kids. Not a proper example in manners. Take your seats now."

They dutifully did, but the current Lord Hospodia did not immediately call for the dishes, apparently wishing to give room for some more family talk.

"Seriously, you two," Leia scoffed at her nephew and niece, having taken a good look at both, "you need not be this insensitive to each other when you are siblings. The very unity of this House, and by inference the lives of many, is at stake. Can't you realize that much?"

"Could it be that you're still itching to prove which race is better?" Rashid joined. "That should have ended years ago."

"What nonsense, besides," the Dragoness added. "Just look at ourselves--we all have some human blood in us; and our parents, you can be sure, did not bicker as to which race was better when they went for the unions. Don't you think?"

"Brista," Lord Hospodia reminded, "this is not something the younger kids ought to hear."

"Let them hear, Mustafa!" Urdin insisted with some of his old authority. All heads turned to him. "Let them hear this well. I did not go through fire and blood just to give your lot a wider space to squabble in. I will not see this House turn to a second Skandia on my watch!"

"Uncle..." Vlos tried.

"Be quiet. You too know that it is true, Nephew. You of all people know that this House is your father's worldly legacy, and your grandfather's before him, and together we've been guarding it. I will not tolerate dissension among us! Darn this race thing! We all originated from the same sole Creator..!"

Urdin caught his eldest son's mildly-imploring stare, and quieted down. Lord Hospodia looked again at his children, they who had at one time been labeled 'the Dragonspawn'.

"It is true nonetheless," he said in a low yet no-nonsense tone. "The noble Husnir the Dragon had forged our domains. Ingeras the Patient had nurtured it. Vlos the Watchful had cherished it. Urdin the Eagle had guarded it... and I, as you all know well, I, Mustafa Husniris the Dragon-Tamer, have united it and kept it so for nearly thirty years.

"It is now your turn, Arslan and Kisara. You are the new pillars of this House, with faithful spouses and healthy children immediately by your side. Upon your shoulders rests the meaningful decision on whether this House will remain standing for decades to come or crumble to nothing. Decide wisely for the persevering people who helped us build it in blood, sweat, and faith. For the integrity of this unity and peace, fleeting as it might be. For our future."

Well in their seats, none dared speak as Mustafa beckoned to the waiting head-servant.

"Bring in the first course."

"Immediately, Your Grace."

***

After dinner, at the palace's main corridor.

"Enrapturing speech as always, Mustafa. Little wonder you managed to hold on to the position this long."

"Battles are not won by speeches alone, Cousin Vlos. And besides... I haven't thanked you properly for attending today, instead you had had to witness such an un-royal scene."

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine, personally."

"Still, this is quite the conundrum. If this goes on I might decide to pass on the throne to either my brother or even your daughter. Which shall be better, do you think?"

Vlos halted.

"I'm not taking sides, if that's possible. Not after trying to 'cherish' this dream for so long, as you put it."

"A dream," Mustafa repeated, "and what an expensive one it has been!"

"It's been worth it, no?"

"Well..."

"Oh, lighten up already, Cousin. It could be that you have too often heard of your father's side of our House's great narrative, that you simply don't realize that there are other, less bloody avenues to achieve things. Although, as I went through one of these, it could not be fairly said that I was entirely satisfied..."