Elder Feather watched the exchange with a neutral expression while Elder Drifting Cloud pulled a jug from his robes, as if watching a show he took a sip before passing it to Feather. She accepted it and took a sip of her own, neither elders taking their eyes off the show in front of them.

  “Is this a new wine?” she asked after tasting it.

  “Went to town for trading,” Drifting Cloud replied. “A friend recommended it. I quite like it.”

  “It’s a little too sweet for my taste,” Elder Feather commented, passing the jug back.

  A stern-faced elderly man in reinforced sky-blue bone armor stepped forward. “Enough of all this. Are you children or elders? Shut your face? Turning one into a puddle? Calling Wethand a moron who wears no shoes because he is too unintelligent to tie them!” His voice was calm but carried authority.

  “Wait.. no one said that last one…” Elder Blaze said softly.

  “All of you! A Shame! Just because one is slow as stone does not mean you should allow your brain to move as slowly as stone.” The man continued.

  “Hey.. wait.” Rockspitter began.

  “Just because your heart beats with roaring flame that makes you incapable of the calm thoughts of soft winds is not an excuse either.”

  “Ok, now this fucker is just trying to pick a fight too.” Elder Blaze commented.

  “Let it go, Blaze… you know that he actually somehow believes it's a compliment, honestly why is everyone here so weird.” Rockspitter sighed.

  “Elder Stormbreaker of the Wind Blade Clan, it’s been a while,” Elder Feather greeted him, disrupting his rant.

  He nodded curtly. “It has been. As for the rest of you—Elder Blaze of the Fire Heart Tribe, Elder Rockspitter of the Rockpounding Tribe, Elder Wethands of the Knockout Tribe...”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The other elders exchanged glances as he continued his roll call.

  “Does he really need to say our tribes with our names?” Blaze whispered to Wethands.

  “He does love to do things the proper way,” Wethands shrugged in response.

  “It’s quite noisy over here. Don’t you agree, Sepetus?” said a man with a quarter-mask of carved bone stepping forward. The mask covered the left side of his face, while an open sleeve, blackened fur cloak was draped over his shoulders, a hood draped over his head barely reaching his forehead. The long, torn, and flowing ends gently touched his calves as he walked, giving him the forlorn appearance of a ranger of the mountains.

  On his bare arms he bore bone bracelets which clicked softly, it was neighbored by chipped obsidian, and braided animal sinew that clicked as if speaking to one another with each movement he made. Rings adorned several fingers — one shaped like a fang, another with a chunk of volcanic glass still rough at the edge.

  Fur-lined boots rose to his calves, connecting to dark leather trousers. On his shoulder was perched a translucent rabbit that glowed faintly violet with wisps of ethereal energy flowing outward. Sepetus yawned and flicked one ethereal paw, completely unbothered by the chaos around them.

  “The elusive Netherquill Elder...” Blaze tightened his lips, a slight chuckle barely contained.

  “Ah if it isn’t the mighty...” Rockspitter stopped herself and burst out laughing.

  “You two are so childish. Do not make fun of a man’s name. You know the Netherquill ritual—the elder throws a feather and when it falls, the name your parent chooses and speaks loudly while staring at the sky is your name for life. It is not this Netherquill’s fault that while saying skull, a bird decided it would relieve itself and sting his father’s eyes with its excrement, causing him to yell out vulgarly. But nonetheless, I respect your name, Elder Skullfucked.” Elder Stormbreaker said, his face straight and measured. The other elders, on the other hand, burst out in laughter.

  “Please don’t call me that. My father meant to name me Skulldevastator, if it wasn’t for the accident,” Elder Skullfucked sighed.

  “Nonsense, it was fated. The spirits themselves must have decided upon it, Netherquill. You should know, since you can speak with them,” Elder Stormbreaker retorted.

  “Yeah... usually doesn’t work that way. I mean sure, some spirits and what you laymen call demons are just bored, but they have better things to do most of the time. Plus I already spent a few years investigating... no spirit was involved, just a shitty accident... oh for the love of—” the elder said as Blaze, Rockspitter, and Wethands all burst out in even harder laughter.

  “It seems we have all arrived. Let us begin the meeting.” A man floated down from the sky, wrapped in violet ethereal energy, the air crackling with power around him.

  With his words, all laughter and silliness ended, and every elder from every corner took their seats. Dozens of elders of respective tribes sat waiting for this man to speak.