Chapter 9 in my fanfiction... really excited to get the Hissho in the mix



Ch 1 https://www.games2gether.com/endless-space/forum/38-creations/thread/16426-fan-fiction-the-duke

Ch 2 https://www.games2gether.com/endless-space/forum/38-creations/thread/16382-fan-fict-the-missionary

Ch 3 https://www.games2gether.com/endless-space/forum/38-creations/thread/16383-fan-fict-the-vain-god

Ch 4 https://www.games2gether.com/endless-space/forum/38-creations/thread/16386-fan-fict-the-chained-chancellor

Ch 5 https://www.games2gether.com/endless-space/forum/38-creations/thread/16396-fan-fict-the-silver-paladin

Ch 6 https://www.games2gether.com/endless-space/forum/38-creations/thread/16395-fan-fict-the-doubtful-clerk

Ch 7 https://www.games2gether.com/endless-space/forum/38-creations/thread/16394-fan-fict-the-mad-emperor

Ch 8 https://www.games2gether.com/endless-space/forum/38-creations/thread/16399-fan-fict-horatio



The War Bird



A cool breeze dances through the branches, causing leaves to rustle their song throughout the home of Kyta StrongWing. Kyta’s strong claws grip a thick branch as he hangs upside down fast asleep, his wings wrapped around him, warding off the cool air.



Kyata’s eyes lazily open, his beak opens in an easy yawn. A gust of wind ripples through his brown, red streaked feathers. He lets his talons loosen their grip on the branch and he falls, his body flips in the air and he lands on his feet. His home is a simple wooden platform high up in a giant wickamore tree, sheltered from rains by a canopy of leaves and branches. Embers smoke in the firepit in the middle of the platform from the night before. The homes of the Hissho are simple by tradition other than elegantly carved pillars that border the platform. Hissho warriors jut out from the pillars, immortalized in the wood, keeping constant guard on his home. A place to rest his wings.



Kyta stretches with a sigh and instantly leaps up into the air, flapping his wings as he soars straight up his family tree. The Tree rises five hundred feet from the forest floor, home to all sixty-three of the StrongWing family.

Perched at the top of the family tree, Kyta’s older brother, Ooka looks out on the forest. He does not notice Kyta hover behind him. The young brother gives a great flap of his wings and latches his lower talons around the head of Ooka and throws him from the branch. Ooka gives a shriek and flies upon a lower branch, spreading his wings in a hollow show of bravado. Kyta takes his place at the top of the tree and gloweres down on his brother. Ooka folds his wings and sulks.



Kyta looks out on the vista. From the top of his family tree, the world looks like an ocean of green. The forest stretches on to snow capped peaks in the distance, with a yellow sun, Gods’ Eye, peeking up through the white mountains.

“I am the elder brother, That branch is mine by right,” chirps Ooka in the language of the Hissho. The avian species’ tongue had developed into chirps, clucks and songs. To the untrained ear it may sound no different than a typical Amosa Morning Bird, however, upon closer inspection the language is much more advanced.



“Than take it from me,” challenged Kyta.



His brother pretended not to hear the challenge and changes the subject.

“Big day for you, little brother. God’s will you will find a mate, and leave for war.”



Kyta glared at his sibling, “enjoy my absence while you can. I shall return as the warrior you never were and finally restore honour to StrongWing Tree.”



The older bird only shakes his head, “You know nothing of war. It is madness, death and folly. Your song is a foolish one.”



Kyta’s feathers bristle, he leaps from his perch to the lower branch but his brother has already dove from the tree, making good his escape. Kyta let the coward flee and continues to look out on the forest. StrongWing was once a great family, powerful and respected. Kyta’s father, Skar StrongWing was a proud warrior. He was a leader of fleets and armies and led his Hissho to victory against the cravers and died a glorious death in battle. Ooka became patriarch of StrongWing and went to war against the traitor tribe, BlackBeak. The test of war became too much for Ooka and he turned craven and dishonoured the family.



With a deep breath and visions of glory, Kyta leapes into the air and flies into the rising sun.

That evening, after Gods’ Eye sank under the world, Kyta flew to the tribesmeet. One hundred and twenty trees bordered a great clearing, the great families of the tribe perch within, viewing the clearing. There was the honourable BoldFeather’s, the strong RavenSong’s, the queer GroundWalkers, among other great families and many lesser ones.



As Kyta soars over the clearing he is joined by his young cousin, Koro. Koro, believing he has the jump on his older cousin, dives down upon him with a shrill war cry, his talons stretched out and searching for his target. Kyta evades the attack and comes up above the younger bird, slapping the back of his head, clucking his beak.



“I yield, cuz” clucks Koro.



“Smart move.”



“Come, cuz, this way. We have claimed a good tree for viewing the meet” Koro leads him to a small tree on the edge of the clearing. Most of the StrongWings were already there among the branches, waiting for the meet to begin.

Koro’s head darts in all directions, searchingly. “Where is Ooka?”



“I doubt he will be joining us, just as well.”



“He shames us all by not attending. A patriarch should be at the tribesmeet”



Kyta’s feathers bristle. He grabs Koro by the throat in a steel grip. “I am the patriarch of this family.”

Koro nods frantically in agreement and is released.

“Ooka is a coward,” sang Kyta, “It is just as well he is not here. Now keep your beak shut, the tribesmeet has begun.”



In the clearing below, a great fire blazes. Flames lick the air as they hungrily consume logs and kindle. The clearing is empty except for several birds standing on a great platform. Below is their Chief, leader of the Foreseti Tribe, the scarred and grey feathered Ssvryn WyrmSlayer. A great warrior at one time, though he was crippled in battle and the other tribes have taken to calling him Chief OneWing. His mind for battle is unmatched, and though he is old and maimed, none in the tribe have challenged him for the right to lead. He has the respect of the entire tribe, and none of the Foreseti believe themselves to make a better chief.



At the chief’s side is his mate, Ikia WyrmSlayer, the tribe’s wise woman. Her feathers are a magnificent blue-green with bright red streaks. At her hip she wears a ceremonial sword. Though the tribes are mainly a patriarchal society, females are given great respect and are seen as a source of wisdom and reason. A common saying among the Hissho is that a Chief may rule a tribe, but it is his mate that rules him. Before the War of the Traitor Tribe, The wise woman and mate of Chief BlackBeak decreed him to be stripped of his headdress. In a rage, the chief killed her and made war upon the other tribes, bringing death and dishonour to his flock.



The chief’s brother, GoldFeather stands among them along with several servants. Where Chief Ssvryn and his mate are the mind of the Foreseti, GoldFeather is the sword arm. Powerful and feared, he stands arms crossed at his chest, beside his brother. Sword hung on his hip.



Chief Ssvryn puffs out his chest and spreads his wings. His dark grey wings look powerful, though if he were to take to the air, one would be limp and make him a slow and easy mark.



“Hear me sons and daughters of the Hissho, for my song is strong!” Sings the Chief, his voice loud and clear over the meet.



“His song is strong!” Chants the families perched in the trees.



“Our Great Chief, leader of the tribes of Hissho has won a great victory over the marked walkers,” continues the chief.

Though Hissho government consisted of many tribes, one single male had the right of office of Great Chief. Though the tribes remained independent, as the idea of centralized government was appalling to the tribes, in times of war the Great Chief was the leader of the fleets and armies.

“The Terran Empire is in awe of our prowess in battle having witnessed our Great Chief’s fleet descended upon our enemies and begs our help in conquering the home of the marked walkers”



A great commotion sprang up from the trees. The Forseti tribe is divided in its will to join the Great Chief in his war. While the young and strong, like Kyta, are eager to prove themselves in battle, the old and female sing that the problems of the walkers are not theirs, and no honour would be found in such a fight.



In the time of their fathers, the Hissho fought and defeated the Craver Hives in a great war spanning the galaxy. Several moon turns ago a walker ship landed at the home of the Great Chief, on the planet of Strongbreeze. Inside the ship was a monstrous craver. The Chief had been in awe at the ability of the walkers to make the Craver’s fight for them. The wise woman of Foreseti sang that the war was from a lust for power. The Great Chief hungered for the method in how to control his enemies, she had sang.

Now, however, in light of the recent victory, the tribe must decide once again whether to give its warriors to the Great Chief.



The chatter from the trees dies down as the Chief continues. “We must ask the Gods for guidance. Gods of Hissho, Great Mother and Sky Father, I, Chief of Foreseti beseech you, point us in the way of your holy grace!”



The wise woman flaps her great wings and she rises in the air above the fire. In her hands is a blue cap mushroom. “Now I partake in the mind of the gods. Through this gift, the gift that rose us up from the ground and to the sky, I shall speak with the authority of our Mother and Father.“ She takes the cap in her beak and swallows.



Drums begin to beat from the trees.



BOOM ba-da daaa da!



BOOM ba-da daaa da!



Before the tribesmeet, the Hissho were obligated to forage the forest floor for blue cap, the sacred plant that let one become as the gods. Kyta reaches into his pouch and eats a cap, giving one to his cousin, Koto, who was unable to find any before the meet.

Instantly Kyta begins to feel euphoric.



BOOM ba-da daaa da!



The trees around him glow with a inner light. They shimmer and sway with the beat of the drums.



BOOM ba-da daaa da!



Wise woman Ikia seems to have grown in size. The glow of the fire casting her all in red. She takes on the shape of the Phoenix, the great messenger bird of the gods. From the ashes of the fire, she seems to rise up over them all.

“Hear me sons and daughters of the Hissho for my song is strong!” Booms the wise woman.



“Her song is strong!” chant the trees.



BOOM ba-da daaa da!



“I speak as the gods!” the phoenix sings. “The road to the marked walkers is a long hard one. Your friends will become your enemies, your enemies will become your friends. Many will die if you take up this road. Glory will be found and honour. If you choose to overcome your fears, forgive those who erred and love those you hate than paradise awaits you. Come and you will join me in my halls. I wait for you at Xenophros.”



Kyta was overcome with wonder. The phoenix has bid them to war. His time for glory was finally at hand.

He did not know about paradise and what exactly was meant by that, but war would be his.

The drums die down and the phoenix returns as Ikea the wise woman. She draws her sword, thrusting it to the sky.



“Mother and Father have spoken! We go to war!” With that she returns to the platform with the other leaders.

The brother of the chief, GoldFeather whooshes into the air. “Hear me sons and daughters of the Hissho, for my song is strong!”



“His song is strong!” chants the tribesmeet.



“I shall be the one to lead the fleets to face the marked walkers. Let them quiver in fear as we show them the glory that is Hissho. Is there any hear that doubt me?!” GoldFeather hovered from tree to tree, glaring at the families perched there. His brown and red streaked feathers bristled along with the gold patch at his forehead. No one sang to meet his challenge.



GoldFeather stopped before the tree claimed by the BoldFeather family.

“Patriarch of BoldFeather, do you doubt my fury in battle?!”



An orange feathered Hissho bristled at his challenge and spread his wings “I do not doubt your fury, just your hard head!”



“Caw! The better to block blows!” clucked Goldfeather. The Tribesmeet erupted in clucking. “Challenge me! I dare you!”



“I dare not” said the orange feathered bird, shrinking away.



“Coward, I name you! You will have to prove your mettle to our enemies in the battles ahead!” GoldFeather fluttered to the RavenSong Tree.



“RavenSong family! Hear the power of my song!” Sang Goldfeather, his muscles rippling, his wings full, dark and menacing. “Is there any here to challenge me?!”



The black feathered matriarch crossed her wings around her chest and looked uninterested, she waved him off with a talon “Go cluck your beak elsewhere, GoldFeather.”



GoldFeather tossed his head back “Caw! Though you may be wise you lack the bravery of a male leader. You will learn to obey my orders, female or face my wroth!” The matriarch only yawned.



GoldFeather moves on and ignores the StrongWing tree. Kyta seethes. Had his family really fallen so low as to not be challenged?



The GroundWalkers rise up in an angry song as GoldFeather stops before their tree. “Caw! Why even ask a challenge of you lot!” Spits the chief’s brother. “You rummage on the forest floor like walkers, weak and rotted wings! Do any of you doubt the strength of my sword!”



The patriarch of the GroundWalker family flies out of the tree to face him, A bird of bright red, FireKissed is his name. His eyes narrow his wings stretch out, his legs flex. The family had the weird habit of walking along the forest floor. Whereas most take to the sky, landing only to catch prey or forage, this family rarely fly and dwell in huts on the floor.



“For too long have you dishonoured my family!” Chirped FireKissed, “Your song is weak, your station is one of convenience. I shall be the one to lead our fleets to glory!”

“Caw! Then name your terms! Sing what we all know you will, face me on the ground like the walker you are!”



FireKissed bristled. “Nay! I will face you in the air, with bare talons!”



"Come at me!" GoldFeather sneered. Like a flash of lightning FireKissed charged. Feathers and blood rained down on the clearing as they bit and scratched each other in fury. FireKissed had powerful legs, he had the arm of GoldFeather in his grip and clamped down with a snap of bone. GoldFeather reigned punches and kicks down on the challenger until he finally slipped from the walkers grip. They came at each other again, but this time GoldFeather gripped the head of Firekissed in his talons and brought him down to the forest floor with a sickening crack of his skull. FireKissed lay lifeless on the ground, dead. A furious grief came over the GroundWalker tree and they chirped loudly.



GoldFeather stood beside the body, breathing heavily. He had a broken arm, a deep gash across his chest and covered in blood. An attendant flew to him to dress his wounds chirping loudly in defense of his master, “he should not have challenged our true fleet master!” GoldFeather turned his rage on the attendant and swatted him to the ground.



“You dishonour yourself! FireKissed fought valiantly and would have brought glory to this tribe. I grieve for him.” Goldfeather raised the lifeless talon of his former adversary, dripping in his own blood. “I hearby call the family name of GroundWalker to now be BloodTalon!”



GoldFeather looked to his brother, who looked to the wise woman and she nodded her approval. The BloodTalons sang for their new found honour. Horns sound to signal the end of the Tribesmeet and the beginning of the MateCalling, where young males compete for mates to call their sword-wives and father them strong and wise children. This is an event that Kyta had looked forward to. He flew from the tree eager to impress a female and make her his mate.



Hours later, a female Hissho sleeps soundly in the rushes. Kyta stands on his platform in the family tree, shrouded in darkness except for a faint glow coming from his left hand. He looks down, his face illuminated as a hunderd particles of dust emerge from his skin, as if he held a galaxy within his palm. His time had now come.

I really like this, if you can continue this to an epic conclusion, I'll try and add something of my own. Best fanfic I've read in a while, you have managed to correctly capture the essence of the universe.