He had. He totally forgot about Sarraya, he was so wrapped up in the elation of hearing from his dear sister after so long. He blushed slightly, then tapped Sarraya on the top of the head playfully. "Well, not entirely alone," he amended, giving Sarraya a fond smile. "I have Sarraya, and just knowing that I can speak to you and Allia keeps me from feeling too lonely."

"Allia told me that you probably wouldn't answer if I tried, but I just couldn't help myself," Keritanima confessed. "I've missed you so much, I just couldn't go another day without hearing your voice."

"I've missed you too, Kerri." The sandstorm was almost on top of them, and it was getting bigger, stronger, and nastier every moment. "Sister, I have to go. There's a huge sandstorm bearing down on me, and I have to get to some shelter before I get buried in sand. I'm in a pretty dangerous place, so please don't contact me first. Let me call you. You may give me away when I'm trying to hide from something I'd rather not face."

"Well, alright, but I'm not used to taking orders from a commoner," Keritanima teased.

"Say that again when we're face to face," Tarrin retorted.

"I'm not that stupid, my brother," she laughed in reply. "Go find someplace safe, and I'll be waiting to hear from you. Be well, my brother, and be safe. I love you."

"I love you too, Kerri," he said quietly, then he let go of the amulet before he stayed longer than was safe for him.

It wasn't as bad as he thought. He stood there for a moment, looking the fury of the desert in the face, and all he could feel was… contentment. He had heard from his dear sister, a sister he hadn't seen in a very long time. And despite his fear that it would make him feel worse, it had the entirely different effect. Now, he felt, whole. He knew that even though great distance separated him from his sisters, they were as close as his heart. Their love was with him, and sometimes, that was all that mattered.

Throwing the scarf given to him by the girl in Sargon over his face, he let Sarraya snuggle into his hood, pulled the cloak around him, and started towards one of the Goddess' Fingers, a shelter from the howling winds approaching him. He padded into the Desert of Swirling Sands, one of the most dangerous regions in the world, with nothing but high hopes and expectations. He knew that it would be a hard trial, that his optimism would soon die away, but that was the future. And the Cat did not worry about the future.

Now was all that mattered. And at that moment, Tarrin was content.

To: Title EoF

If anything could have changed the mood in the room, that was it.

Keritanima took her hand off the silver amulet around her neck, blowing out a sigh of the most profound relief. A smile graced her muzzle, the first smile since the day she took the throne, a smile that came from the heart. It was the one thing that she truly needed to do, with all the insanity that was going on in Wikuna, one of the few pleasures she could afford herself at the moment. Those with her in her inner sanctum, the ultimate privacy of her bedchamber, became visibly relaxed. Of course, Binter and Sisska, Miranda and Azakar knew her well, so they understood just how important it had been for her to contact her brother and sister. It was something that she needed to do to take her mind off the issues confronting her.

It was also something that she'd been meaning to do for a while. With the battle for the throne over twenty days ago, she should have been contacting them that night after putting down her father's hasty rebellion. But one thing led to another, problems piled up on her desk, and she'd been sidetracked by the astounding amount of work that had inundated her since presenting the nobility with the document that would hamstring their power.

And that had been her main headache. Wikuni nobles being what they were, they accepted the constitution with graceful smiles, read it, then immediately threw it out the window and began plotting ways to either get around it, invalidate it, or even get rid of Keritanima and put a monarch on the throne that wouldn't change the order of things. This, Keritanima had expected. She just didn't expect it from every noble house. Even the weakest of them were beginning to look for ways to put obstacles in Keritanima's path. The only houses that weren't causing problems were house Eram, since it only had two members and she totally controlled her sister, and house Mation. Praki Mation was absolutely terrified of Keritanima, and would do absolutely nothing to bring her wrath down on her. What seemed like a personal insult was that Sheba was doing it too! Over the twenty days, Sheba and Keritanima had more or less buried the hatchet. Had even nearly become friends. But now the former pirate was doing the same thing everyone else was doing, and that hurt the Queen more than a little bit.

Their roadblocks had been both subtle and blatant. Noble ships suddenly clogged all the harbors in northeastern Wikuna, strangling trade. The commoners that Keritanima had invited to help with the transition were harassed on the streets, misdirected, blockaded in their homes by agents of the nobles, and a few of them even assassinated. Nobles were continuously late to those meetings, forcing endless delays and changes in plans. And Keritanima had it on good authority from Jervis that many of the nobles had met among themselves, and were cooperating. And that they were attempting to hire every mercenary, sellsword, and two-bit footman they could find. If they couldn't convince Keritanima to give up on her idea of a Republic, they were more than willing to fight her over the throne.

This infuriated the new Queen of Wikuna, infuriated her in a way that few things could. Her entire goal right now was to return to Sennadar, return to her brother and sister and be a family again, to help them in their mission for the Goddess of the Sorcerers. The nobles were delaying her wishes, and they should have learned by now that getting in Keritanima's way was a very unhealthy thing to do. She may have given away a portion of her own power, but she was still Queen of Wikuna, and her power was nothing to be dismissed.

But it shocked her that the nobles would be willing to take it to the ultimate level, civil war. If they'd just read the damn thing! Read it and understand it, see the opportunities for prosperity that rested within the pages! By surrendering some of their power and paying taxes, they would get the opportunity to take their house fortunes and quadruple them within twenty years. But they were so stubborn! All they could see was that the radically aligned new Queen was taking away their status as true nobles, as someone above the common man. They were so arrogant!

Perhaps that was her error. She expected them to be receptive to change, and that simply wasn't going to happen. They wanted to keep their power, to keep their feeling of control, to keep their arrogance. They wanted things to stay the same. They didn't want to take a chance on something that they didn't understand, didn't want to understand. They wanted to stay in the closet.

Well, that was tough. She couldn't leave Wikuna without the Republic, because she couldn't trust the nobles not to mess things up in her absence. If she left before then, odds were there would be a new monarch on the throne before her ship reached Sennadar, and they'd be sending assassins by the score to eliminate her. Then they'd just tell the people that Keritanima's ship sank, and that would be that. She was the Queen now, and she took that responsibility seriously. She wouldn't leave Wikuna at the mercy of a new dynasty of bloodthirsty tyrants.

Keritanima leaned back in her chair at her desk, as Binter and Sisska played chess on the chest Keritanima kept at the foot of her bed, Jervis watched the battle in keen interest, and Azakar helped Miranda wind a ball of yarn, sitting in a new rocking chair in the corner. Binter and Sisska never changed, from their kilts to their leather harnesses, but Jervis' attire had improved since coming into the new Queen's inner circle. He wore a spotless gray waistcoat that matched his fur, and his everpresent pocketwatch now had a gold chain holding it to his vest. Miranda still wore daring dresses, but she still continued to wear simple dresses of her own making rather than jewelled or extravagant gowns favored by the nobility. Today's dress was a cream-colored dress with a white sash, with a neckline that quite nearly reached the sash. For Miranda, it was an "older" dress, a dress she wore when showing others that she wasn't as young as she looked. Few young girls could possess Miranda's impressive attributes. Miranda did not let others forget that she was a commoner, but she also didn't let them forget that she was a beautiful young woman either. Azakar wore a simple brown doublet and leather breeches, the doublet carrying an embroidered Royal crest over his heart, clothing that would easily go under his armor if he had to quickly don it. The crest marked him as a Royal servant, and it gave him protection and authority within the Palace. Miranda had been dabbling in knitting lately, so her everpresent shoulder bag was now filled with ivory knitting needles and balls of yarn of every color.