The air of the scholarad was heady with sweet incense and laughter.

The gathering place of the scholas perched atop the clannag’s highest level, overlooking the main branch of the Rend. The outward wall opened in a series of archways through which fresh air blew in to mingle with the aromatic smoke. The mists beyond had taken on a cooler hue, almost blue, and the lanterns were all of a darkly stained glass—their light dim and gentle. Everywhere were huge, plush cushions, all gathered into circles around low tables.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, now?” pressed Mika as an attendant guardian returned with the drinks they’d requested. He leaned forward to deliver her ofke, and his markings flushed cerulean. A look of panic sparked in his eyes.

“I—I beg your pardon,” he said, turning and hurrying off to wait on a cluster of scholas who worked at looms in a far corner.

Ume squirmed on her cushion. Her markings had been shifting between blue and green from the moment she and Eshge had come to fetch Mika.

“It’s a few things,” she replied. “For warriors, any night before a great battle is Final Night. For the rest of us, it’s the night before the Rite of Gold or a new year. But for you…it’s a mix.”

Mika blinked. Eshge sighed.

“The night before a battle may be a warrior’s last,” they said. “It is a time to reflect upon their life. To decide what they wish to carry forward from the old one into the next, and what they wish to change. For whether their physical body dies in battle or not, their old self always does, and a new self is born.” Eshge sniffed, taking a sip of their tea.

“The beginning of a reign is, in a way, a new life for our whole people, and an end to the old one,” they continued. “So…on this night we all do as the warriors do on their Final Nights. But of course, for those participating in the Rite itself…it may well be a true ending. Anything could happen.”

“Also, we party,” added Ume. “First with our own Arkhas, and then all together.”

“Yes, and that,” conceded Eshge.

“So cheers,” Ume declared. “To finishing these drinks so we can have something stronger!”

Mika suppressed a groan and gulped her ofke. As she set her cup down, she realized both orcs were watching her expectantly.

She looked from one to the other of them, ears tipping back.

“What?”

“You go first,” said Ume. “Start with guardian. What do you want to hold onto in your next life?”

Mika tipped her head to one side.

“I don’t understand.”

Eshge’s hands gestured their impatience as they spoke.

“What about yourself do you like? What do you want to preserve about you as you are now?”

Her eyes met Eshge’s violet ones. Her lips parted, snapped shut. Parted again and hung open.

“I…I…”

Ume leant in, brows knit together beneath her sky-blue markings.

“Don’t…don’t you like anything about yourself, princess?”

She feels bad for me! How humiliating.

Just say something.

“I like how I look,” said Mika, rushing out the words before she had much chance to think about them.

The other scholas of her thrall exchanged a glance.

“And what else?” coaxed Ume.

Mika took another drink of ofke, stalling for time.

“I like…my determination. I must remain determined.”

The rosey-haired orc favored her with a smile.

Eshge huffed.

“Hunter next. What do you wish to seek in your new life?”

Setting down her cup, Mika reached over to stroke one hand compulsively up and down the arch of Ixos’ back. The little construct purred its approval.

“A way to save and restore my people,” replied Mika at once.

“And…anything that’s just for you?” pressed Ume.

She peered at the orc, confused.

“That is for me.”

Ume shook her head, her soft curls flowing across her shoulders.

“What do you want for your personal life? For your own happiness, and no one else’s?”

“Balance is important,” said Eshge. “You must live for yourself as much as for others.”

Mika’s lip twisted.

“Helping my people does serve my own happiness,” she said. “Nothing would make me happier.” And though it was true, other things flashed to the forefront of her thoughts as she spoke. Faces…two of them. And the imagined sensation of a warm hand around hers.

“I don’t think we’re going to get anything juicy, Esh,” said Ume, pouting.

Eshge motioned for the guardian.

“Three horns of that new spiced mead from Clan Turrak,” they said.

Mika opened her lips to refuse—but the words didn’t come.

What if this is my last night?

Pushing aside her half-finished ofke, Mika accepted the over-large draft of mead, taking it up in both hands.

“Alright, then,” said Ume as Mika drank. “Schola next. What will you create in your next life?”

She took her time in answering, savoring the heat of the mead as it pricked at her tongue. She swallowed.

“Safety and prosperity for my people.”

Eshge massaged their brow and Ume groaned in frustration, the two leaning sideways into each other. They both drank.

“Prince last,” said Eshge. “What will you master in your next life?”

Again Mika was silent, but not because she didn’t have an answer. She peered down into her drink. At her reflection, at the marks glowing greenish-yellow on her forehead.

“Myself,” she said.

The orcs were quiet, and when she glanced back up at them, she found still more pity in Ume’s eyes, calculating consideration in Eshge’s.

“Guess it’s our turn!” declared the former after a moment, just a little too loudly. Mika listened in silence, making her way through the mead as Ume spoke of her wish for a baby. While she listed the many required attributes of the hypothetical child’s potential father, Eshge rolled their eyes.

“Shocking you haven’t found anyone suitable yet,” they observed.

“Fine,” huffed Ume, cheeks flushed with drink and indignation. “You know what? It’s your turn. Please, tell us your fondest wish so that we might piss upon it.” She hefted her empty horn and tipped it. “I’m well prepared!”

Eshge shrugged, smirking.

“Very well. Guardian: I wish to continue to be as beautiful, as talented, as intelligent, and as outwardly-spoken as I always have been. Hunter: I wish to seek ways in which to become more beautiful, talented, intelligent and outwardly-spoken than I ever have been before. Schola: I wish to create a design for the clannag’s spire so wildly impressive it will beat out anything even that cursed schlockka-faced Kurrah manages to come out with. Prince: I wish to absolutely master the art of architecture, and dominate the field entirely.”

“Humble, as always,” snarked Ume.

“Call me that again, Plum, and I’ll tell Durg you’ve chosen him for sire.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” breathed Ume, glaring at them before calling for another drink.

Mika kept at her drink as the orcs bantered on. Until her head grew light and things got a little spinny, and talking didn’t seem so bad, actually. She was about to comment on something funny Eshge said when the energy of the room suddenly shifted. Looking up, Mika found the source of the disruption at once.

Retga had pulled aside the scholarad’s tapestry door and stood awkwardly in the entryway, fully armored…as always. Her crimson eyes were fixed on Mika.

“Prince,” chorused the scholas softly, though not quite at once.

Retga cleared her throat.

“I—”

She lurched forward as someone shoved his way past her into the room.

Kurr.

The silver-haired prince threw his arms wide, wavering a bit on the spot, his face drunkard-red.

“Come, my beauties,” he called. “It’s time you joined the rabble.”

Retga scowled. Eshge’s hackles rose. Then, so did all of the scholas still seated. Mika followed suit as they streamed from the chamber. Out in the high hall awaited the other princes of Dragha. Alaric limped along at the head of the procession, Kurr in its midst with each arm draped about the shoulders of a schola. Uthur and Retga fell back to walk beside Mika and her companions. As the former brushed past an unfamiliar schola on his way, the stranger cringed.

The feast hall was loud with the beating of drums and the voices of the joyous drunk, bright with lantern and firelight. Mika dragged down her goggles as Threl came spinning up to greet them.

“Lady Ume, Angry Eshge, Little Miks,” he trilled. “Took you long enough!”

“You’re going to make yourself vomit,” warned Ume as he spun past them. He just laughed with delight, his skirts flaring around him.

“Can’t hear you,” he said. “Twirl too strong!”

But as Mika followed the other scholas to the banquet table, there was a sudden dashing of feet from behind them, and then the sounds of retching broke through the laughter and music. On their approach, most of the other orcs who’d been gathered around the food dispersed, more than a few eyes clinging with unease to the back of Uthur’s head. He cast his own gaze downward, and something pricked at Mika’s heart. But then Retga was at his side, one hand to his back, speaking words to him which she couldn’t hear. Uthur smiled, and a heartbeat later Mika realized that she was smiling, too.

Loaded up with food and refilled drinks, the princes and scholas joined the others of the thrall, commanding a forward-facing corner of the feast hall. Mika installed herself near the stone railing to perch upon Ixos, where she could easily turn from all the bright lights to look out over the Rend.

But instead she found herself facing inward, ears perked, eyes roving between the princes as they ate and talked and drank. Threl even managed to coax a laugh out of Uthur. At once she found herself liking the elf quite a lot more. And as she drank on, the world became ever more beautiful and, every feeling heightened as her lips grew looser.

“My only regret if I die tomorrow,” opined Threl from beside her, leaning in close to Mika as his eyes fixed on Ume where she sat at the circle’s other side. “Is never telling her how I feel.”

Mika sighed. “I’ll have so many regrets,” she said. “I’ve never even held a hand.”

Threl’s gaze jerked away from the object of his affection to fix on her instead, his eyes wide and round. “What? Really?” His lip twitched upward to one side. “Well, if that’s what you want…what’s stopping you?”

His face seemed to waver in the air as she regarded him, the lantern light catching and dancing like a rainbow halo in his hair. Things got very blurry after that.