Kedrak sighed. It's been another bountiful year, yet still not the most bountiful year on record. Six years ago, the Undying Morekah had so many offerings that they overflowed from their storage room out onto the floor of the high district. He had the entire foundation of the district rebuilt and expanded at great expense. And yet, all the offerings had only filled up half the storage area since then, at best - the same amount they had gotten at years previous. Their Morekah was supposed to be improving! He would have to speak with the elders and have them discipline the fieldtenders.

Slim pickings aside, the festival was going well in no small part due to his guidance as the Mareh. His proxies, all seven of them, were running around coordinating the public offering. Various clan chiefs and elders - many of them cousins of his, boasting Djaso on their prows - had managed to arrive due to the good weather... unfortunately. The sky was clear enough to augur unlike he had foreseen. He squinted. Where were the Akar and Karun? Tadir was clear enough, shining bright as it did in the constellation of the Leviathan, as if beating like the great beast's heart. But swift Akar had evaded his gaze, and somehow the red Karun had as well.

Perhaps I should have been watching the skies more closely, not as cloudy as I expected, thought Kedrak, Ah, well. They won't know the difference.

Dusk had come and gone. It was time for his pronouncement. From his platform, he watched the long fire in the courtyard in front of him. Clansmen were still filtering in from mooring their ships, and presenting offerings. Strange, he thought, fewer clansmen too this year. No matter. The dance of creation had ended. It was almost time for the offering.

"Maris, boy, come here," said Kedrak to one of his apprentices. He bade him to round up the four families with the best offerings. Four families for their meagre year should be enough. Generous, even.

He said the words rote aloud, singing the various praises to Atook and Itiah and Namyak, their patron god. His heart wasn't in it. He congratulated the tribe for their "stunning" harvest. How hollow... He thought. He would need some more hanyil to get through this, but the hanyil would come later. Now it was time for the augury.

Kedrak slammed the butt of his ceremonial spear into the stone of his platform again and again, until the crowd quieted.

"Tribe of the Undying, hear me! Pay heed," cried the mareh. His resplendent outfit - a woven, embroidered kaftan under a thin cloak, dyed in fine purple and blue - was complemented by a pot-bellied less-than-resplendent form. His arms spread wide, spear in one hand, he continued, "I shall now prophecy the stars, as Mareh Leddar did before me, and Mareh Edin did before her, and Mareh Tera did before him, all the way to the days of Great Djaso! Let Sellitna guide my sight, and let none doubt my reading for the heavens!

"The sky is clear - Itiah lets us glimpse our future with both eyes open, a good omen. There is Akar, passing the Monsoon, and Tadir in the Leviathan. Karun is there," he said, raising his finger to the heavens, "in the fish of Namyak! The slow planets are between houses, and the moon is fresh.

"We were blessed in years previous with smiles from the gods, and I have seen us take advantage," he pointed with his spear at the store room, " there is nothing wrong with relaxing! But the gods demand their due, and we have taken advantage! It is time for us to go to work, and this is what the heavens have spoken,

"It shall be a difficult year, I'm afraid. The monsoon will hit hard this year. The planets are in the houses of ill portents - storm and beast. We all know the story of Samahab and the first monsoon, of the heavens cracking and thundering in Itiah's rage. But Samahab stood firm! He caught the fish, and stayed true to the course despite fifteen days of the ocean pouring from the sky!

"We must persevere as he did, my tribe. Just as Samahab was a mortal so are we! We must redouble our efforts for prosperity, and-

"KEDRAK!" cried someone in the crowd.

Kedrak recoiled in insult. He was in the middle of his monologue. Who would have the audacity...?

The crowd parted. There was Hadira - his cousin, of the Undying White Shark clan, one of the most powerful of the tribe's. Hadira was always a surly, humorless individual who always frowned. But his clan always brought the best goods - yellowfin smoked in Aluda fashion, keshurot metal of many varieties, freshly plundered zhilnn slaves. He had tolerated his cousin Hadira for this very reason (and because, in a way, he was scared of the stocky, burly, renowned raider), but this was now an insult to his office and his kin and his person!

"What is the meaning of this, Chief?" said Kedrak. They were performing now, so they were to use titles, of course.

"You lie, Kedrak," said Hadira, "you lie through your crooked, yellow teeth."

The crowd was quiet, and Kedrak was beside himself. Hadira went on, "You quote the stories and point at the sky, but you are so blind by your own arrogance that you cannot even see where the stars are."

"How are you to know where the stars are, chief," asked Kedrak with derision.

"Because I have eyes, bastard. Look," he pointed with a spear dart towards the heavens, and it dawned on Kedrak that Hadira was wearing his goggles and heavy cloak, with a spearthrower in his other hand. Full battle regalia. Kedrak looked to where he pointed, and saw nothing.

"What?"

"Karun. In the Spear of Samahab-Okaba."

Kedrak looked at the spear. When did that red dot get there? It was like a drop of blood at the end of the flaming spear of Samahab, in his capacity as a war god. But that would mean...

"The sky portends war," said Kedrak, eyes wide.

"And I did not know against whom," said Hadira, "until you opened your foul-breathed gob."

Kedrak now was suddenly aware of Hadira's men behind him, also wearing raiding gear. Hadira had been planning this. He had been watching the stars for weeks.

"I have brought prosperity-" started Kedrak stutteringly. He had lost all control of the festival.

"I HAVE BROUGHT PROSPERITY! ME! Chief Kalli, my grandmother, found the Zhilnn and brought the riches and looms and slaves from them! My father Chief Dakang fought your father's wars, and slew the Eternal Morekah, the Glorious Morekah, the Prosperous Morekah! My family has turned the sea red for generations for the sake of this tribe. Countless clans have perished at our hand, and our fields and seas have been made fertile with their blood!" The first part of his speech was clearly planned, as was this insurrection, and certainly wasn't spur of the moment. But now, Hadira was working himself up into a full roar. Even Hadira hadn't planned on making this rant.

"The Marehs have done NOTHING! For DECADES! You cannot even read the stars! But I, I have brought the riches and wealth and knowledge! The clothes of our people are made from the looms my family found. The foundation you stand on was made by Shasaka builders we took. Fish caught with Zhilnn-style nets, food flavored with onion from the north! Fish smoked, ducks grown, granaries built!

"The prow of my ship is decorated and lacquered - resplendent, upthrust, and proud! and yet the deeds of yours are bare!" Spittle flew from Hadira's jaw as his rant went on, "You have sat here and grown fat and lazy like a leech. You sicken me. You scream of our prosperity and bemoan our laziness. Your cloak is dyed purple with snails, but mine is dyed bloody with the toil for my tribe! We do not need you"

"Hadira, you do not mean... You cannot! We are cousins! I'm your Mareh!"

"YOU ARE NO MAREH OF MINE!" shouted Hadira, as he loosed a fart. It pierced Kedrak's chest, and with a spurt of blood the mareh collapsed. He pulled himself up, hearing the crowd shrieked and panicking and running. They grew distant, and his vision began to tunnel as he saw Kedrak's men began looting the granary. More darts had flown, and his proxies had taken some of them and collapsed too. His breath was catching and the blue and black at the edges of his sight were closing in.

He was getting tired, how long had it had been? Hadira was above him, and his vision was swimming. He barely registered as Hadira hauled him up and tossed him to the fire, and could not feel the scorching heat burning his body, nor hear Hadira's throaty laugh. A final insult that his faltering brain could only register as a passing thought - his body would never be returned to earth, and his soul would remain trapped outside of the cycle of creation. He could no longer see the stars, now not because of his own blind folly but because of smoke and fire and death charging at him. He took his final breath and died, mere moments after he had been speared. And the Morekah would soon die with him.