The King Trials.

~Exodus~

All good things end.

As well as our time with the Orombuc tribe.

It was...quite trying to adapt to lesser means of comfort. I went from everything done for me and relishing on the best that Urium has to offer. To having to hunt for food, forced to slurp sludgy slugs and sleep in the most uncomfortable positions, overcrowded by others.

But I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. I learnt so much, far more than just reading about places and people from the Regnum's library. I got to live it, taste their foods, walk their paths and become a part of them. Even though it was just for a time.

Whilst our guards and Duce Merian prepare our exodus from Shamburn, with the aid of some of the Oromians. The Herems and I are in the Chieftain's hut to receive a blessing from none other than the Augur herself. Their sleeping hut is more lavish, in a very bucolic kind of way. With dual pristine mats centred at the head of the hut, decorated by colourful hand-woven layers. Ornamental carafe-size statues and clay pottery encircle the interior like a holy shrine.

All of us are lined up in the hut's epicentre, on our knees, our heads bowed. All she has done so far is pacing in front of us all, muttering a tirade of incoherent words. Her frame is enveloped in a patterned, hooded robe showcasing the colours of the Orombuc: yellow, orange, red, and brown. The hood casts her face in darkness, unseen.

Oam remains outside, but he is the only one that knows our tongue. Our translator. I'm uncertain of the worth of a blessing if we cannot understand it. Curious, I sneak a glimpse of the Augur standing at the one end of the line, before a kneeled Vince.

She outstretches a tattooed hand, and it hovers above the crown of his head.

"The...spirit of conqueror," she says in broken Arkian with a rustic and rough accent.

Never mind then.

She moves next to Dario, besides Vince, and says, "Spirit of warrior."

She moves along the line and declares her word over each of them.

She stops in front of Rimnick and says, "Spirit of beast."

My eyebrows quirk.

Next is Markiveus, and she says, "Spirit of snake."

I cage in a laugh.

Solaris follows, and she conspicuously pauses before she says, "Spirit of ally."

Promptly, I feel her presence before me. A herbal scent emanates from her like the winds in the trees. She outstretches her hand. Something flows from her to me in palpable waves like electric currents.

"The spirit of overcomer."

After she prays loudly and passionately in her tongue, gesticulating wildly, the baggy sleeves of her robe swaying like fluttering wings. Only after are we released. In single file, we make our way out of the hut.

I emerge outside, wincing at the sharp spears of light stabbing my eyes. My vision adjusts and the swell of brilliant light recedes, and I'm able to bear witness to the sight before me. The expansive main pathway is flanked by all of the Oromian people, holding chaplets of rich-coloured flowers.

A mirrored memory of the town's farewell for me.

Solaris and I trade animated looks as we all slowly walk down. And it ignites a fervour of farewell cheers and applause from all those surrounding us. Soldiers stand in a lengthy line in front of the crowds. As we saunter down, we are showered by sprays of petals, appearing as if they are falling from the heavens. I notice the same gaggle of children that faithfully oversaw Dario and I's archery lessons. In a unified display they show us a meaningful gesture with their fingers. They all unleash an explosion of petals that burst forth on the path we embark on.