rionas-path

[rionas-path]

Hey guys!

I’m so happy to unveil the cover artwork for the upcoming release of Book I: A Raven Never Bites the Eye of Another which will be released on the 18th of July, 2025.

Many thanks to my brother, Jim Brin / @neon-ufo for the astounding work! Make sure to continue following for another update in a couple of weeks.

[rionas-path]

I'm happy to announce the release date of my debut album, Book I: A Crow Never Bites the Eye of Another, on the Friday, July 18th 2025.

It's been a gruelling wait, I know, but it will soon be over. I'm thankful for every one of you who've followed me here and hope you'll continue to do so.

[rionas-path]

Proud to reveal something special today: The Chief Audar figurine, in all his glory. Design: made using Hero Forge Painted by: @neon-ufo

[rionas-path]

I'm so proud to finally reveal the new, long-awaited 'Ríona's Path' logo!

Many thanks to the incredible @neon-ufo for designing it! Thank you, brother! You can find him and his art on Instagram, Tumblr and Bluesky under JimBrin/NeonUFO, and make sure to follow him on Twitch (as neonJIM) where he regularly streams on Fridays! If you like his art you can commission him or support him through his Patreon!

I also apologize for the long radio silence as I had nothing to update you on, however, fret no more! I haven't forgotten about this project (could I ever) and more importantly the album!

It is coming, it is on its way. I think late May or early June is now the foreseen release date! I will update you on this as soon as I have everything for release.

Next up, cover! Stay tuned!

[rionas-path]

It's done

[rionas-path]

Don't forget to follow me on Bluesky if you haven't already!

I post more casual content, not directly related to the story of Ríona's Path.

[rionas-path]

Finally Breaking the Silence

Dear readers and fans.

These past 2 months have been a tumultuous time for me, for Ríona's Path and, of course, for all of you for having to wait so long.

Though the lack of any communication was intentional from my end to protect my interests and my project, I assure you everything is fine.

Two months ago, in October, I was approached by a label, who shall remain unnamed, about releasing my album: Book I: A Raven Never Bites the Eye of Another.

Despite the great opportunity, I have chosen to remain independent/unsigned due to disagreements in the final proposal.

The future is still bright for Ríona's Path, and I can't wait to finally get underway with preparing everything for the official release which is now officially postponed to late Q1 of 2025.

In the meantime, I can also confirm that writing of Book III. has officially began.

I have also created a BlueSky account on which I'll post shorter updates and create posts which are going to be out-of-character and relate to more technical aspects of the poem and music. You are free to ask me any question in regard to me, Ríona's Path, or ask me how the weather is. Anything is game.

I’m thankful to everyone who is and has been following along this journey! Be sure to also follow me on Instagram and RoyalRoad; as well as YouTube!

Your Humble Chronicler

[rionas-path]

Big News is Coming

[rionas-path]

A Message From the Mire of Dreams.

With each passing day, we march closer to the release of the first album: ‘Book I. A Raven Never Bites the Eye of Another’.

The album is currently in late post-production. The goal is to release the album by the end of the year, after which you can again expect the continuation of the story. In addition, while there is no official release date yet, it will be announced soon.

Suffices to say, this has been a great undertaking and will be my first official release. I am immensely proud of the work I’ve put into this brainchild of mine and cannot wait for it to finally see the light of day!

The album and single will be available for digital purchase on my Bandcamp as well as available on most streaming platforms under ‘Ríona’s Path’, and in physical form.

I’m thankful to everyone who is and has been following along this journey! Be sure to also follow me on Instagram and RoyalRoad; as well as YouTube!

Your Humble Chronicler

[rionas-path]

Chapter 21

Hand Made of Stone

CCXIX. ‘Twas not far further from her father’s army encampment And most of what had transpired still did not make much sense. The silence of the goddess was spectral in its suspense, Worrying her evermore. She was there. Watching, yet sent Not a word. As a ghostly apparition, a poltergeist haunting. Ríona attempted to cross the silent chasm ever-daunting: “Aurianne, what happened? What hast thou done?” her discontent Grew as she felt puzzled and aggrieved. A whirlwind of lament.

CCXX. “Thou art shaped by such anguish, my sapling.” The goddess spoke Sheepishly with a stagnant tone of utter estrangement. “I cannot tell thee, for unspeakable matters of derangement Transpired that night.” Aurianne felt an emotion stoke Inside her, unbeknownst to her being. A feeling never Felt afore. It seemed like this knot in her throat would remain forever, A burden on her back. Most strange and unusual joke, Which to her ancient mind would long lost memories evoke.

CCXXI. Alas, in the penultimate moment of her admission, She steeled herself, and began weaving the web once again: “Thou wert flow-guided, I could but watch thy path of arcane Sleep-walk. Thou approachedst a junction of worlds in thy condition Whereupon thou mettest the resting soul of thy mother. When thy wake found thee, the serene spirit was fury-smothered And attacked. Luck would give thy father a premonition, Saving thee from the beast and the deadly preposition.”

CCXXII. In macabre panic and uncertain pity, she conveyed: “Though odious sorrow now utterly fills both me and thee. Modest as it may be, I give thee my meek sympathy.” Ríona’s eyes watered, as tears ran down her cheeks dismayed: “I value thy words. My world has lost much in recency’s breath. My heart hurts terribly, alas I cannot stop the breadth Of pain which blights my arm. I’ve been torn in twain and left decayed; Both body and soul. My hand is gone, Aurianne, my bind betrayed.”

CCXXIII. “‘Tis alright, dear. We will find a way on this bleakest of days. ‘Twas not vigour thy greatest strength but thy sheer ingenuity!” The goddess clenched her teeth as she hoped her mask’s acuity Would prove enough, despite the weight of lies which did emblaze Her own hubris before her eyes and her mind confounding: “Why am I this tense?! Why is my soul-heart ever-pounding?” The duo continued their path in a silent malaise, Neither sure of their perceptions, watched closely by the sunrays.

CCXXIV. Making their way through the prairie, the lay of eventide Began its sombre tune of wind, and her walk long-winded Would still not come to an end. “How much further…” Her thoughts turbid. Aurianne replied: “Hast thou beheld the oddness beside And abound us? A profound essence of absurdity And confusion?” she let the air brush across grasses surlily. Her hidden breeze sounded: “We stand where our two worlds collide. I speak in cheerless truths; our judgment day has now arrived.” 

CCXXV. The sun began to shine its red hue with intensity, The flames engulfing her wholly. Shadows extended right And left. Whoever this was, they were of all-powerful might. A sharp, harsh, yet divine voice bellowed with stark immensity From every corner of the world unto Ríona quaked: “She who walks – stand. She who stands – listen.” A black silhouette shaped In the middle of the red glow: “You stand before me… guilty Of breaking all tenets! Showed Weakness, Cowardice, Timidity.”

CCXXVI. Ríona held her handless wrist before her eyes, covering Them from the light and begged for answers: "Who are you? Why do this?” They growled: “Silence! Kin-in-kind are meant to uphold the merits And virtues of the people-folk, not pervert them!” The puncturing Voice cut deepest: “It is with your kind, I often contemplate, Whether the worlds need saving!” Their words knew only to berate “Please, I beg thee,” the girl plead, “of all these crimes numbering You accuse me of, find mercy!” The light continued smothering.

CCXXVII. Suddenly, she felt a strong grip on her left wrist pulling away From her eyes, engulfing her in the piercing, hurtful light. The voice roared ravenously: “The maimed cannot defend and fight For themselves without able bodies!” the scream echoed dismay And reverberated about her, as she felt the sun-scorching Heat around her wrist. She fell to her knees as the pain kept outpouring: “Please, I beg you, no more! I can’t this punishment obey For crimes I did not commit! Why can’t this world just let me decay?!”

CCXXVIII. “Nonsense!” the voice continued to growl yet began to soften, “Prove to me you are worthy of your title. Take destiny Into your own hands and, at once, replenish yourself fully!” Ríona hesitated for a single heartbeat-caution And a shout filled her every pore: “I. Will. Not. Ask. Again! You carry a serpent, a demon, a witch of wicrow hell-bane In your vessel and I will strike you down where you stand-trodden If you do not give a reason which might make your errs forgotten”

CCXXIX. “Prove to me you are at least capable of containing it, Something you haven’t thus far!” the voice then released her arm And took a stand. At last, she could see the one doing harm, As a long, flat blade kept gleaming through the shadowed darkness split. She clenched her teeth and began harnessing the errant flow, Attempting to grow out her missing limb, yet to her woe, She fiercely struggled, groaning, as she to the task commit. Alas, she could not the living flesh together refit.

CCXXX. “Then… you have failed.” Spoke the voice, grabbing her wrist violently: “I give you the title for which you shall be know across the worlds! The worlds began with a Hand of Stone which wrought all the herds, And so too shall be ended by it once all will die silently; And so too stone I shall give thee. A wretched moniker, Let it bring disdain to your heart, your guilt to chronicler.” The Goddess of Justice spoke in words which bled antipathy, “Your father would be proud.” She finished her tirade spitefully.

CCXXXI. Krikashe raised her open palm and a rush of a potent flow-river Burst towards Ríona, engulfing her arm in the viscid Magick, as stones and pebbles accumulated in twisted, Intertwined pellets. The purpurate flow unfamiliar Crafted the new hand from the most abundant nature’s resource. After a gruelling and painful minute, she laid without recourse, Curled up and shivering. The bewildering justice now gave her A stone hand which glowed azure. “Wear this bond well, World-Killer!”

[rionas-path]

To those gathered 'round,

Our story's second book shall soon find its conclusion as the arduous path continues to lead us onwards.

With the release of the 21st chapter in two weeks, we will begin our short hiatus anew, however, in the meantime, you can look forward to the release of another single as we are creeping ever closer to the official release of the album Book I. A Raven Never Bites the Eye of Another.

It will be available for digital purchase on my Bandcamp as well as available on most streaming platforms under ‘Ríona’s Path’.

I’m thankful to everyone who has been following along this journey! Be sure to also follow me on Instagram and RoyalRoad; as well as YouTube!

Your Humble Chronicler

[rionas-path]

Chapter 20

This Is Our Tradition

CCIV. The wicrow of Eleanore’s spirit swept its tongue around Aurianne’s cut-open palm, gulping blood in gluttony. Lo, a voice interrupts the ritual so suddenly. The chieftain spurs forwards from the swirling shadows abound: “Demon, begone! What madness hast thou wrought? I should’ve known From the moment of that fated night, thou wouldst desert the very bone Which hath embraced thee!” He shouted at the goddess renowned, Whose scheme now exposed, alas her web could not be unwound.

CCV. The dooming deeds have sparked a most despairing destiny. She laughed: “Ah, but this meeting cherished be! A clan gathering One last time before the looming conclusion; ‘tis flattering! Concede, thou hast lost, and I have won! Soon I will gleefully Bask in beloved blessed flow and carve my new domain Among the stars, in accordance with the Maven’s orb arcane.” Audar was shook to the core. He wished to slay the god-entity, Yet t’was his child’s vessel and love can’t be lost so easily.

CCVI. He jumped into action: “I cannot let thee create this hell!” The old chief closed the distance and began tugging at her Shoulders, stirring her: “My beloved Ríona, deter This fate! Takest back thy reigns!” Aurianne held control well O’er the vessel and pulled him off with a single grip ‘round the neck: “Do not test me! If I please, I’d turn you into a dust-speck! Little Ríona truly hath grown into the strongest shell, Alas she squanders potential; skill I’ll use for your death knell!”

CCVII. “Abandon this act! Leave.” Shouted the goddess ferociously, Then threw him down onto the ground, but Audar would never Resign his daughter to this fate. He stiffened in displeasure And jumped upon her yet failed to pull her down decisively. He roared: “Wakest up, Ríona! I beg thee, my sweet child Which I cherish so!” The wicrow began tugging at the wild Oozing wound of Aurianne’s palm and a tussle effusively Broke out between them, as the moon peered through clouds icily.

CCVIII. In the back of her godly mind, she could hear the waking Of the host and slowly began to calculate her next move. “Perhaps,” she thought, “for insubordination it would behoove A price to be paid?” As Ríona began her awaking, Aurianne let go of the reigns which she so easily held. A piercing pain rushed through her arm and chest, the burning meld With a mind-numbing sensation filling her essence shaking. A gurgling screech followed the gushing blood from the arm quaking.

CCIX. The red outpour spurted from her left wrist where a hand used to be. The wicrow lost control upon Aurianne’s departure, Leaving the battered lass to complete confusion’s torture. The chieftain bravely battled the beast which was now set free And gobbling on the torn hand-flesh, yet he was losing ground. He quickly gazed towards his child: “Ríona, time’s not abound! We must run and escape! Even bravery begs to flee When faced with pure evil-harnessed amid its apogee!”

CCX. Still in complete shock, she did her best to battle through the pain, Composing herself and quickly closing the wound with flow, In an attempt to mend it. Standing up – a stumble slow, Instinctively reached for her dagger and with great disdain Found it was not in its sheath. Panicked, she called for Aurianne Who watched distantly, dazed in terror. Her mind overran With confusion for she hath not foreseen such a gruesome strain. The all-outcome which she pursued did not foresee this fate-vein.

CCXI. Audar kicked the beast backwards and grabbed Ríona by the coat, Pulling her up: “Fight as I had trained thee!” His voice thundered As he handed her his short bone-hilted bodkin sharpened: “‘Tis stronger than all the fiends I faced, it’s song a horrific note!” The whirling of flesh and feathers, as well as the twirling Of its lush gold ornaments proved to be disconcerting, Marking the encounter far more dangerous than the beasts cutthroat Which she faced during her escape from that tower remote.

CCXII. As it lunged, he tried to calm it during his dodge to the side: “Calm, creature! If there is an essence of my beloved in thee, Please leavest this world and the next in peaceful harmony!” He looked back at Ríona and yelled: “Movest out and wide! Once it lunges at me, strikest its spine and endest this blight Upon the worlds!” Yet he knew where truth stood. Despite his might, He thought: “Alas, I must meet my fatal fate dignified. She’ll get a chance once the beast is flesh-sated and pacified.”

CCXIII. She shifted to her right, scuttling, and sneakily got in place, With only excitement of her veins numbing the sustained injury. The dreaded beak lunged at the Chief, who spurred the trickery Of blade-dance, stabbing upwards. The beast sunk its talons with pace Upon his arms and shot its beak deeply into his chest. In panic Ríona missed her cue, jumped on the beast obsessed. Drawing from her ever-vast reserve of vigour, she stabbed the space Between the ribs and into the pumping kin-heart of the crow-face.

CCXIV. It started to rattle and shake; a high-pitched, ear-piercing shriek Came from it as it began to collapse into a black-feathered clump. Quickly, she pulled the corpse off her father beaten to a pulp Yet still alive. She grabbed his hand, pulled him ‘cross her physique: “Father, what do we now?!” Panic seeped into her frightened mind. Dazzed, he replied: “There will be more on the way through the twined Boundary between worlds. Henceforth, safe haven we must seek. Recoup our losses!” His voice was wispy, grating, and meek.

CCXV. Progress was a struggle for a good half-hour, whereupon he fell, Bringing them both to a tumble. Terrified, she shouted: “Father, please! We must go ever-faster!” Tears had sprouted. The chief muttered frankly: “No! I cannot my body compel To go any further, lass! My blood can’t take me as far as thine Can takest thee… In truth, I had to trade thy fate for mine. There was no other path to take against that wicked spell, Not in a fair clash. Not as long as Gods the world impel.”

CCXVI. Through flowing tears, she begged: “Please, dost not utter such dreadful things! I cannot leave thee here to be a victim to Flow’s burn.” He brushed her tears and held her face in his palm to ease concern. Then suddenly, he grabs her left wrist which still harshly stings: “This is our tradition, lass!” She jerked in pain and confliction Yet understood the gesture. He uncovered her affliction And unsheathed his bone-hilted bodkin from her belt sheath-strings, Placing it into her hand, beginning the act reserved for kings.

CCXVII. “Bravery.” His hand atop hers, he placed the blade upon bruised skin. “Courage,” he pressed it down, “self-sacrifice,” and cut a mark Across: “I am thy first mar upon thy arm which shall spark Hope in the hearts of people-folk. This mar by thousands of kin Shall be joined upon thy life’s end but this one… This one thou willest Always remember as the first, beloved, daughter blessed. Kaitríonne, seedling of Eleanore, now-leader of House Whotrin, I love thee and shall forever be by thy side in spirit serene.”

CCXVIII. “Takest good care of my chiefdom, sendest my love to thy sister, Young Viola. She may not understand now but will someday.” With a sad smile, he gazed into her eyes with nothing more to say. He kissed the back of her hand dagger-holding with a bitter Look in his eyes and then closed them. Thus, the chief was no more. A grieving cry burst from Ríona. The pain cut and deeply tore Her pounding heart. The lament slowly turned into an aching whisper As she buried him within a tomb inside a rock-fissure.

[rionas-path]

Chapter 19

Deals With Deceit

CLXXXVIII. The fire flickered in the night, embracing her with caring Heat ‘round her face. Aurianne peered towards the dancing flame, Which blinded her shortly as her eyes adjusted to the claim Of light. She sat upwards and gazed down at her hands wearing, Blistered and bruised. Slightly baffled, she spoke within the shared mind: “Ríona, dear? Art thou present?” Silence. She felt an unkind Rush of unease; however, promptly saw this bind bearing A fruit of cunning fortune which found her luck to be unerring.

CLXXXIX. Audar stepped into the light carrying wood for the pyre And noticed the movement of who he thought was his cub-gift: “Thou art finally ‘wake! It’s been a day since thy loss of wit Which hath kept you up enduringly!” Unbeknownst to the sire, His daughter was not the one in control of the vessel. On the initiative, the witch chose to pretend and nestle Herself upon the reigns firmly, using lore she did acquire Of the lass’ mannerisms, sought to meticulously conspire.

CXC. She put forth her best facade: “By the gods, my body aches so! Has it really been this long?” The chief nodded in warm accord And set the wood next to the campfire. The witch could not afford Her eyes be seen, as they were adorned in purpurate flame-glow; Therefore, she made sure to obscure them with the flickering fire And would ne’er let them be made bare in the shadow’s choir. She carefully enquired: “How did we end up in this grotto? What of the wicked beasts which sought to feed on the potent flow?”

CXCI. With a gracious smile, he passed her a loaf of bread and gently Brushed her hair: “Eat, for an arduous journey still awaits. Rest now, for thou hath pushed thyself to a most extreme of states. A feat mere mortals could never fathom to achieve intently, Yet thou art mortal still.” He took some time for pause as fire Continued to flicker. “After thy pass into the dream-mire I skirted the beasts and escaped their sight, then found this entry Of a cave which would serve as our sanctuary friendly.”

CXCII. The goddess gathered the loaf and nodded in deceitful agreement, As she scanned the entrance which was warded by nature’s haul. Leaves, rocks, and branches secured with sparse dressing of magick sprawl Held it all together in place, ensuring their concealment. Soon after their supper, Audar yawned and remarked fatherly: “Although thou hath slept much, thou mustest mend thy spirit wholly. So, sleep, my dear child, and as we wake we’ll make progress decent Towards the army, which awaits our arrival vehement!”

CXCIII. As the chief dozed off, Aurianne gazed at the story of the flame Which painted with a single colour on the canvas of the stone. Assured that Audar had fallen asleep due to the groan And drone of his snoring, she harnessed her scheming stealth-fame, Making her way from the cavern. With a flick of a finger’s caress, She made an outward passage and sought the seclusion’s recess. Following her astute intuition, she quickly came To the perfect place in which her ritual offering she could tame.

CXCIV. In a circled enclosure of tall trees, she raised a standing stone From the ground itself. Placing her hand upon the column Painted in glyphs of the Fractured House, she closed her solemn Eyes which were now the only source of light beside the lone, Brightly shining cloud-moon. Beneath her palm, azure drips began To slowly flow down the basalt bluestone, wind rushed and ran Through her hair in gusts; a seam between the worlds was being sewn, As she reminded herself of wisdoms she had always known.

CXCV. “In the end, Aurianne, thou mustest always do everything By thyself. Thou couldst not trust thy own sister with the simplest Of tasks. Thou couldst not trust Sky, the precious child that she is, With finding the answers of the immortality wellspring, And thou couldst never hath wagered Ríona to fail the challenge… I’ve raised her well… Her kin-blood carries such bountiful talent. Alas, here I stand now, awaiting for the wretched beast-wing To arrive and finally begin my carefully planned event-string.”

CXCVI. Suddenly, she heard a hum arrive like the wailing wind, An event she did not expect. In shock, she jumped as a critter Brushed past her ankle, while several more rat-squeals would chitter In the nearness. Aurianne rolled her eyes in irate chagrin And stated her annoyance: “The Faceless… ‘tis you. Do you not see…” She snorted at her unintended use of irony, “… I am in the middle of something important herein? Rat Keeper, why are you vexing me at this hour serene?”

CXCVII. With the slowest of steps, he entered into the hue of light Whereupon his face was revealed, his feathered turban danced About as if pushed by wind, yet the night was still in its prance. Aurianne was met with a face of familiar recite, Yet her host’s instincts were sometimes still playing with her nerve And control of emotions; rooted was the girl’s mind-reserve. She took her hand off the stone, turning towards him without fright, For she reckoned there was a reason for this searing spite.

CXCVIII. The face was barren, bereft of features but burnished skin. Where his eyes were supposed to be placed, nothing but a faint Hue of crimson purpurate below skin. Where his nose quaint Was supposed to be placed – skin. Where his mouth – skin. His gaunt and thin Hands held a pitch-black rat, gently petting it, gliding haggard Fingers across the fur which seemed to not reflect light scattered. The Witch was closely watched by the red eyes of the rodent-kin As his words began to reverberate as a soul-voice from within.

CXCIX. “In paucity, thou plottest. In charity, thou cheatest. In benevolence, thou betrayest! And now, this action? Thou seekest to bring forwards such turmoil of exaction? Tell me, Aurianne; my Queen, willest this sacrifice blessed Giveth thee satisfaction?” She chuckled at him in grave Contempt and answered with a tone by remoteness paved: “You dare ask me such things, boy? Had it not been at my behest, You would still be stuck in the sewers. You are my acquest!”

CC. "I made you! What friendship do you call upon? The goodwill Which left me on my knees seventeen sickly years ago? When all I begged for was mercy from the Flat Blade’s end bestowed?” She straightened herself and shook off the bluish magick-spill Which had been flowing down her, with a fast and slashing motion “Why hast thou come?!” she demanded with foreboding emotion Which caused all the rats to disperse as the wildest anthill. “What does she want?” The sharp words could even kin-in-kind spine-chill.

CCI. Taking a step back, he answered: “Kin-in-kind are concerned Why thy ambitions. This might be too soon for the people-folk. They barely survived the last time. As for “her,” I shan’t stoke This flame, I do this of my own accord, for I had learned Of thy spirit as my flock traversed the world’s underbrush. I want but ask thee of caution: recalculation in thy rush. I beg my leave, dear Lady.” With a bowed head, he slowly turned Into the darkness, dispersed, and into the shadows returned.

CCII. She shouted amid his leave: “For once, thou shouldst use thy namesake. Keep to thyself and be born of ignorance, son of the Grim. Perchance, we meet again!” With a grin, she turned and placed her forelimb Back on top the stone and proceeded in the ritual’s wake. The flow poured down the rock again, glowing anew with elation. Her eyes rolled upwards as she whispered an incantation Of uncanny root. From the flowy mist, a wickrow would break Forth from the gate of ether: tamed, serene. The world was at stake.

CCIII. Smirking in devious fascination, she had approached it. The creature, adorned in ample ornaments, kneeled before Her as she hushed its breaking breaths: “Shh, poor thing. Here, ‘tis your Kin-blood, so imbibe. Let us beget greatness if thou shouldst permit, Eleanore of House Whotrin.” The wickrow stopped huffing and eased. Before another word could be spoken, Aurianne unsheathed Her dagger, cut her palm and placed it on its beak submit. “Drink!” she ordered. Voraciously, the beast to the task commit.

[rionas-path]

Arabæl is Born

From epic "Arabæl the Great"

A tale of spring rains and summer storms, The troubled tribulations of tribesmen, From yonder years of yellow skies, Brought back with heavy burden boorishly; To ever greater grandeur, granting fame and fortune. These times of primeval magistrates Great deeds required, never granted. Always sought by supple souls of dreams. In that mire, meek and mere Lay divine and dangerous yet gladdening In favour and fruit-bearing. His fate-fortune divinely prophesized By bold and bound-to-be gods. Aye, such were wicked ages. First spoke Woung soundly: “Breath-bearing his bond To life, always his primal luck! Beast-hearted, brave and free! Leader of People-Folk, Kin-in-kind crafted King-maker!” Second spoke Kriigk the Venerable: “Fire-touched, flickering his fate. Marked by gleam and marble-modest. A temple to tradition and teaching. Wise his word, wonderful his visage. Son of the stars, light-carried.” Third spoke Qullkulle, thawing: “Flow-funnelled, fearless foal. Our son strongest of currents, Carrier of courage and cool-mind. Wallowing in waters’ ways, Always light-laden on long sails.” Forth and final, Shktaa shivered: “Storm-chaser, change seeker. Walking wondrously through harm’s way And never falling to knights of sin. His valiant roar of valour Reverberates rightfully, our champion!” All ask at once: “What will his worship named be?” A tiny voice in tone tasked With facing the fearless Four Herders: “Thy arduous ails hath given us a hero. His knowable name: Arabæl.” Such was his birth-right striking. Given long life, leader of people-folk Abound with riches not rags. His mind meld with remarkable intellect Both his astute capacity and his guest-god’s, Who was chosen with careful concern. Life-giver, long-lived. God of Lore, Prepared for this purpose, ever-present. Young Arabæl in god-hands guarded. Mother looked upon her loved child: “Fair and fiery, fortunate and soul-rich. My young babe brought into the world Of discord and desolation. Will wring misfortune off this wailing world. A feat mere mortals could never fathom To achieve intently, yet thou are mortals still. I shall guard you gratefully and generously. Mother to son, a miracle made truth!” The newborn wept wailing tears As first fortunate puffs of flow filled air Breatheth he bravely, vibrant-being. Gazeth he greatly t’wards the gargantuan, Listeneth he scrupulously to the Lore-god. Watcheth he wondrously his world. And most of all, loveth he his lordly family. Babe blossomed into a boy, Boy matured into a man. Man called Krylevin home.

This is the first segment of an in-universe epic "Arabæl the Great" which tells the story of the first Demigod in recorded history. Arabæl was an ancient hero who united much of Wekomai under one banner (much like Alexander in our history).

Audar, Ríona's father, often quotes metaphors and proverbs from old and ancient works when he speaks.

[rionas-path]

Chapter 18

Wicrow

CLXXVIII. With the speed of musket fire, she ran. Leaping, gliding, evading All manner of beast which was either chasing behind her Or jumped into her path so boorishly in a sharp spur. The horde of wicrow clustered together in their raiding, Numbering in the hundreds, as far as Ríona could guess. However, even mere perception got doused in the duress Of this arduous task after a day’s worth of wading, Running and manoeuvring through the dark demons pervading.

CLXXIX. This effort might have been the end for those of the mundane Mortality and yet, her kin-blood’s endurance was truly Incredulous to all the people-folk ordinary. Howbeit, she was still exhausted – succumbed to spirit-drain, And between the occasional lunge of a hidden beast, Her swift, never-faltering dagger-thrust which quickly ceased Their pitiful life, she could only focus on this task plain: Running away. Utterly, she could feel her body strain.

CLXXX. She hoped what Aurianne had claimed was true in its essence; That her father was waiting for her on the realm’s borders. Alas, for now she had do bear this burden on her shoulders Alone, despite the perilousness of the venture tense. The howls and screeches of the beasts continuously delivered Fear into her bones boorishly. Her nostrils flared and quivered With both exhaustion and trepidation’s envenomed incense, As even her blustering blood could not persist in the toil immense.

CLXXXI. Throwing a quickened gaze across her shoulder, she was faced With the wicrow closing the distance and making good ground. Her stride was faltering, her focus waning and unbound, And despite the Goddess’ ardent cheer, despair in utter haste Began to take root. The girl’s chest was burning, gasping for air, And her heart pounding hurriedly. Her conscience’s harsh, searing glare Found itself collapsing inwards, like tumbling rocks displaced Down the damnable slope, creating an avalanche ever-paced.

CLXXXII. In her exhausted state, she finally elected to turn And stand her hapless ground, for legs could no longer carry her. Preparing her battling posture, her perception could not infer Of any sensation other than that of the blackened concern. Then suddenly, she felt the strongest pull on her collar’s back And as she swiftly looked to find the source of the attack, She found herself already seated on a steed battle-sworn, Next to who else but her father, Audar with a grimace stern.

CLXXXIII. Holding onto two girdles as another horse beside Galloped along, he grumbled: “By gods, I’ve found thee! You stupid, Stupid goose!” He pressed down onto her shoulder undisputed Just as he would have in the days of her yesteryears applied, Albeit this time it felt different, comforting in care. He commanded softly: “Hop on the other dashing mare, For dear, we must make haste!” Though tired was her jaded hide There was always that fraction more of lifeblood to be pried.

CLXXXIV. Seating herself on the saddle, she asked: “How didst thou find me? Though the Goddess claimed thou wouldst muster thy forces to prevent This incursion, alas, I am blind to the chance’s scent!” She was puzzled by this opportune salvation timely. The chief answered: “This is not my first hunt of kin-in-kind, lass; Or should I rather say ‘maiden,’ seeing as thou surpassed Thy rite of passage thousandfold!” Shaking his head sharply He quizzed: “Thou art all tangled up in this tumble, aren’t thee?”

CLXXXV. A lump seemed to form in her throat, and upon swallowing, It felt like a seed of doubt passed down her body. She confessed: “Alas, I fear it is damnation of my own acquest! I beg thy forgiveness, yet please dost not be found wallowing In thy lecturing for I can scarcely hold my own body Upon this steed, let alone listen with my mind’s shoddy Fortitude in my current state of fatigue and failing!” The chief let the air stay still ‘fore he began avowing.

CLXXXVI. “Dost not fret, dear daughter. This is thy prophesized dest’ny, And despite a lack of forewarning, thou canst not control What the gods will! Yet, I will stand beside thee, my fair foal, Always. As thou grapplest with thy fate with grave tenacity. Thou hast now surely met my old friend from the northern mounts, A tale I hid from thee… Had he not people-folk renounced, This heartless reality would not be thine inherency. In truth, it is I who shouldst ask forgiveness and never thee!”

CLXXXVII. Once they managed to escape the immediate danger Of the swarm and adapted pace, Ríona’s body finally Gave way to languor, as she leaned on his shoulder nigh lifelessly. Grabbing her around the arms, he gave his eldest daughter A gentle embrace and pulled her onto his saddled lap, Reminding him of that dark day – his life’s greatest mishap: The day Mockwir fell. A tear reached his eye as he caressed her Fatigued, sleeping body melting into his like water.

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Chapter 17

Deception Painted Azure

CLXIII. All fragments of her own creation had begun their fall Into the predetermined places of this devious plan. Everything in just order of events, saw Aurianne. Indeed, the threads were fellows, in accordance with her thrall: The fool with the Orb predicted well this eventuality, Despite the need-be sacrifice of all immortality, Including her own sister. Yet to her the be-all-end-all Was the grandest goal of resurrection, such mighty haul!

CLXIV. The web of lies which she hath spun would never leave the world, Of that she was sure in spite of the evidence contrary. Many an ally still had parts to play, oft unwittingly, And thus, Sky Peruvia was her precious pawn unfurled. Though the all-powerful Goddess of Death possessed grand valence In the alchemy of souls, hers lacked all plotting talents, As not a single string of scheme around her heart was curled. This made her easy pray for those who fate round their fingers twirled.

CLXV. Such solitude bred curiosity which was easily Used against her, as was made clear in the burial of the old fool. Now all that remained was clear, howbeit dangerous, and cruel. To truly break the boundary and let beasts through ceaselessly, The blood of kin-in-kind demanded to be bitterly spilled. The wound not grave, yet not superficially cast or instilled. That was the premonition, which the Witch sought greedily. It befell once long ago; It will befall again eagerly.

CLXVI. The hilled horizons cast their tenebrous shadows athwart The valley’s path, which Ríona deftly maneuvered through. Every so often screeches and howls would the sound imbue In echoed silence of all living beings, tearing apart Any remaining courage, even in the bravest of beings. She could hear her own nervous breath flooded with anxious feelings After each occurrence. Something primal was put on alert Inside of her – stirred, as the dreaded beaks prowled beastly about.

CLXVII. This fear reminded her of that fated day when Mockwir fell, When masses of people which moved in morose unity Fled from the monsters feathered in black. These memories lucidly Danced deep inside her mind. The Scheming Witch sought to compel The lass to act: “That’s it, my sapling, cuttest thy way through Without a doubt, ne’er leaving a trace of thy avenue Of escape.” The girl nodded in a sombre agreement’s yell And asked her ghostly guide for guidance in an ire’s swell.

CLXVIII. “There’s hundreds, if not thousands, in these peaks of white and grey, Along with those who prowl in the valleys of voracious streams; How in the world am I supposed to make it through the seams Of their battered and scattered lines, Aurianne?” She shared her dismay. The goddess saw a reprise of words would not work again, Therefore, she advised the girl to keep focus on their plan, Ne’er let her trial’s quest out of sight lest she be led astray. She harnessed honeyed words of reason to begin her play.

CLXIX. “Thou standest much closer to thy goal than thou mightest think. We have passed down from the tallest breadths of the Guardians And will soon be faced by the ranges of the Frozen Plains. My dear, it is there where we might take the delectable drink Of courage and vigour on the grounds of battle, and face this Incursion ‘fore it grows into an invasion of the abyss! I’m sure that news has marched its way through the celestial ink And reached thy father, who rides up to save his domain’s brink.”

CLXX. “Do not falter in tenacity! ‘Tis thine heavy burden Thou mustest carry, for such is now thy dire destiny.” Ríona could feel her chest grow in stark severity For contempt-carried was her heart when the all-outcome hearkened. Alas, even in such a headstrong state, she knew Aurianne Was not spouting bewitching lies through her teeth, not more than The usual. Before her laid the bypath with its burden Of safety’s promise, down the Tribunal Hills’ trail uncertain.

CLXXI. She strode to hide between the conifers as more and more Beasts rushed along the ridges. After what felt like a lifetime, The light began its fall below the horizon, marking her climb Would soon commence. She rushed between the rocks in noble splendour, Gracefully finding sure footing, reaching up to the hilltop, Bare in its beauty. Alas, here she was exposed in her gallop Across the plateau; whereupon; wide-spanning, laid before Her spread the very plains of which the Witch spoke afore.

CLXXIII. The shadows of pined woods behind her, she snuck up toward The glade-grasses which differed in their reach up to the stars. With caressing care, she pounced between the ground’s greenest hairs And finished the long silent stretch, closing in on her reward. Then suddenly, the sound of breaking bark from behind her Shot ice into her veins. In utter terror, she turned to defer All doubt and gazed across her shoulder. Dead, glowing eyes roared With voracity. Standing there a mass of torn flesh, feathered, abhorred.

CLXXIV. The goddess whispered swift words of cold-sharpened verity: “Slay it now; use thy combat lore and end its pathetic plight Before it alerts all others in the nearness of our flight!” Woe struck, and the screech filled their every pore with agony And anguish. Terrified, the body began moving on Its own, hurling a jagged stone towards the dreaded spawn. Yet, it still neared the girl with sinister asperity, As if content with its quarry of flow’s prosperity.

CLXXV. Struck by the moment, Ríona looked about spotting countless Darkened figures approaching her with dread from every flank. The goddess wished to give advice – give a simple tug or yank, Alas before a single uttered word, the lass would impress With meticulous motion, striking the demon down swiftly. She speared through its beak, ‘fore the beast could scream a tune sickly. The black blood which sprayed her forearms, stung with sharpened finesse, As Aurianne brought heed to this ominous siege in progress.

CLXXVI. Ríona rose her throwing arm with her spear-staff fitted, Closed her eyes and uttered: “Forgivest me, if I fail thy trial, Dear Aurianne,” and before the goddess could her thoughts compile, The girl threw the doomed javelin t’wards the creatures quick-witted, And ran as fast as the winds could carry her down the hill. The spirit-guest roared in disbelief with a mocking shrill: “Art thou mad?! Why dost thou cast ‘way thy sole spear outfitted? Ridiculous! As if instructing a pigeon dim-witted!”

CLXXVII. With a groan, she added: “Run now lass, go as fast as feet take thee!” Then Aurianne secluded herself in old memories Again, searching for a chasm in her plan of centuries Which was now coming to fruition. Indeed, high guarantee Of success; immaculate. To think she had been sorely stressed About the languor’s powder, yet the girl had not suppressed A single memory; at least that’s what the Witch could see And falsely believed: Blood will be spilled for the crown almighty.

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Chapter 16

A Crack in thy Spirit

CLII. She ran as fast as legs could carry, often stumbling down, ‘Fore abusing the flow to catch her fall, finding safer ground. This path out of the valley was steep and with danger abound; A remnant of a flooding stream adorned in a winter’s gown. The stones beneath the thawing snow shuffled briskly about As she breezed downwards ever faster, mindless in her rout. For terrifying, gnawing screeches will rapidly drown The valley with its cacophony of savage renown.

CLIII. Abruptly, the Guardians became her greatest nemeses. The white peaks looked down at her with scorn, yet she could not spot The shadowed beasts; to boot, the goddess was by languor besot No longer, disorienting the lass in her moment of unease. The reigns then felt a potent tug from deep within her frame, Which caused her to stumble again. The Witch began to reclaim Her clouded sight, peering through shut eyelids: “Lass, tellest me, please, Where are we? What hath happened? My head in pain, pierced, displeased!”

CLIV. Blood continued to rush through her stiffened and sharpened muscles, The hurry barely holding back her yielding state of mind. She answered the divine’s plea: “Oh gods! I’ve done a deed maligned, Aurianne! Such A fool I’ve been, and of course these troubles Would find thee awaken and uncover my wretched folly!” The witch was puzzled: “Of what dost thou speakest? Utter calmly, Young fawn; what uncovered folly? Thy haphazard rush puzzles Me utterly.” She stumbled and slurred through her words with struggles.

CLV. The lass felt that same blood which fuelled her strength rush to her head: “Please, do not seekest out thy anger’s scorn, promise me this! I had not known, forgotten the lore which one cannot dismiss; The same lore thou hath given me, guided me to carefully tread! I finally saw a freedom, a solitude, a wonderous thing; And in my arrogance, the final days of the world I bring!” She huffed and sobbed, as tension flared up like a sickening dread Filling every corner inside her chest, yet no tear was shed.

CLVI. Aurianne began gathering her wayward composure: “What sayest thee?! What hast thou done, my pet? Oh, please young lass, Pray tell I say, what folly hast thou wrought in my mind’s loss?” Ríona hesitated as her wits began a closure. Unconsciously, she pulled back from this incognizant instinct; In doing so, uncovering her secrets in an instant, Barely keeping a hold from the grimoire’s lore exposure. Alas, all other secrets were made bare in her wits’ enclosure.

CLVII. Due to such concentration, she slipped again and fell lower Down the valley’s path, bruising her shin, cursing into the void; And thus, Aurianne now saw all that occurred. Now purely devoid Of all its mist. She put all the muddled clues together ‘fore her, Revealing her plan had been expertly spurred into action By Sky, who played the part unknowingly with great attraction. While Ríona’s unfettered use of flow was a foolish error Which drew the beasts to the boundary, ‘twas not the darkest of terror.

CLVIII. Nay, a penultimate push was yet to be required, And the Witch would make sure of that. She swore in a feigned huff: “By the Curse! Hast thou no reason anymore?” However, too gruff Were such words. Hence, she turned to a tone fiery and inspired: “All be damned, ‘tis what thou hast been bred for! Thou art of Mockwir! Blood of warriors, kings, to those values thou mustest adhere! Blood which brought the north to their knees in eras long retired And now will lead thee through this age which is in darkness mired.”

CLIX. “I am thy patron; I’ve always been! I gave thee cunning, I had given thee wit! I shan’t ever leave thy side, my apple!” Said the goddess, alas, it seemed the lass paid no heed, grappled At her trouser, planning on healing it with the flow running Down her hands; however, Aurianne snapped, catching her hand: “No! Thou shalt not use the magic abound this freezing land!” Ríona closed her eyes to block the senses from humming An irate tune, yet the goddess continued with her words stunning.

CLX. She needed the girl to compose herself if the plan was to succeed: “Thou shalt find thy destined way through thy sheer ingenuity, And finally use all the skills I hath given to thee! Bleed thy Mockwiran blood, let the discomfort grow thy seed Of resolve or hast thou forgotten how thou hath found the Tsar? Never in the past has a superficial wound, barely a mar, Stopped thee in thy tracks, so say I again, thou mustest bleed If thou art to learn! So, stand up, my dear!” She finished her plead.

CLXI. As Ríona’s eyes opened, her eyebrows could not suppress The displeasure. The witch let the air stand still, if only For a few heartbeats before saying: “Today thou shalt boldly Become what thou couldst not on that fated day of thy egress. No longer shalt thou be a young fawn; this I now bestow! The final trial. Today thou shalt become a full-grown doe. No longer a young lass but a blossomed maiden in success.” Aurianne found the last of her thoughts, ending her address.

CLXII. Abruptly, Ríona heard rocks rumbling with a severe Reverb as she stiffened her muscles with new-found resolve, Bursting into a leaping escape. She would not starve Herself of a chance to escape, and would rather adhere To the goddess’ every advice through this harrowing plight. All that was left, was now in the hands of her might. Never for a moment’s worth would she use the flow to interfere With what tradition decreed, never to fall or ever fear!