Worried. Always worried when it came to a reasonable Kira.
Graydon kept that thought to himself.
This way it would be so much more fun later when Harlow and the rest came to the inevitable conclusion they’d never had control of the situation in the first place.
Graydon rubbed his hand over his lips, hiding his smile. He was already anticipating the resulting blowout. The best part was they didn’t even realize the grenade she’d lobbed into their laps with that last statement.
Graydon did. Wren, too, if the tight look on his face was anything to go by.
They’d forgotten—even Harlow—that it was Elena who had stolen Kira’s ship in the first place.
The girl wasn’t someone who would be easily controlled. She would have her own opinion on the situation.
One bound to conflict with that of the Overlord and his council.
That meant things weren’t likely to play out the way Harlow expected. It was a miscalculation on the Overlord’s part.
Graydon unfolded from his chair as he set a coin on Harlow’s desk before inserting a tiny bit of his soul’s breath.
Those present sat forward to study the data projected into the air.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed the increased presence of the lu-ong over the past few months and have realized by now that this adva ka will not be like the others,“ Graydon informed them once he had their attention.
Harlow leaned back in his chair with a sigh, steepling his fingers in front of him. “I suspected this might be the case.”
Silas nodded. “The lu-ong would have known about Kira’s existence and arrival long before us, but that doesn’t explain the number of births they’ve had in the last five years. Twenty by our oshota’s count.”
For a species as long lived as the lu-ong, it was rare for them to welcome young to their ranks. That they felt comfortable spawning so many in such a short time meant they knew something the Tuann didn’t.
Caius crossed a foot over his knee as he settled into his chair, staring at the image of a translucent creature curled around an unknown object at its center.
”A Mea’Ave lenacht,“ Caius murmured. “How long has it been?”
Lenacht was the Tuann word for blessing. Usually used in relation to the Mea’Ave.
“Five. No. Six hundred and four years,” Silas answered.
Those present let that fact sink in.
One of the biggest secrets the Tuann possessed was how reliant they were on the Mea’Ave.
While the Mea’Ave’s influence wasn’t necessary for life, it played a significant role in their health.
Just look at what happened to Kira and how her ki had started attacking her body.
For those who could channel only a standard amount of ki, the Mea’Ave was less important. It was the most talented who truly suffered.
People like Harlow or Torvald.
It was one of the reasons the Tuann rarely settled in places that didn’t have its own Mea’Ave. The House’s health would wane.
Which was why a lenacht was so prized.
Once mature, the candidate it selected would convey it to a new home where it would take root.
As an offshoot of the source, it was connected to its parent and would create a ki-rich environment capable of sustaining Tuann presence.
This was the true reason for the adva ka—though ensuring the overall character and abilities of those who might one day be among their strongest was also important.
