BALLAD OF THE TRACIENTS

The battlefield had gone quiet, the aftermath of Lord Talonir's devastating attack leaving only the fallen bodies of Razik's minions scattered across the snow. Kon and Kopa made their way toward the Kushan camp, the air still heavy with the tension of what they had just witnessed. As they walked, Kon's mind raced with thoughts of the terrifying power Talonir had wielded, but more than that, he wondered what kind of man this Air Lord was.

When they finally approached the camp, Talonir stood among his warriors, tall and imposing. His long feathered cape still billowed slightly from the residual wind of his earlier attack, and his scarred face remained as unreadable as ever. The Kushan Clan, known for their mastery of the skies, looked up to him with unwavering loyalty.

Kon's heart beat faster as they neared Talonir. Despite his best efforts to remain calm, the weight of this encounter pressed down on him. He knew this meeting would define his future, especially after what Kopa had said about the Air Lord's seriousness.

Kopa bowed deeply before Talonir, as was customary in the presence of a Narn Lord. "Lord Talonir," he began, his voice steady with respect. "I bring Kon Kaplan, son of Orin Kaplan."

Talonir's gaze, sharp as a hawk's, shifted toward Kon. His eyes seemed to pierce through him, evaluating everything from his stance to his demeanor. There was a moment of silence, and Kon felt as though the entire weight of Talonir's judgment was bearing down on him.

The tension built, and Kon wasn't sure how to react. He stood firm, though his mind raced with thoughts of whether he measured up to the man standing before him. Talonir's reputation was immense, and his connection to Kon's father added a layer of complexity to their interaction.

At last, Talonir spoke, his voice deep and unwavering. "You have your father's eyes," he said, his gaze locked on Kon's.

Kon wasn't sure how to respond. The comment seemed simple enough, but coming from Talonir, a man who had fought alongside his father, the weight of it was undeniable. He felt a lump form in his throat, unsure if he was being complimented or compared.

Sensing the awkwardness, Kopa stepped in. "Lord Talonir, I know you weren't at the last summit, but things have changed. The prophecy is in motion. Kon has inherited the Arya of Destruction. He's—"

But Talonir raised his hand sharply, cutting Kopa off. His gaze didn't waver from Kon. "I have no reason to take him in," he said coldly. "He may have inherited the Arya, but that alone doesn't make him a Narn Lord. It certainly doesn't make him Orin."

The words stung, each one landing like a blow. Kon stood frozen, his fists clenched at his sides. He had heard similar sentiments before—how he could never truly fill his father's shoes—but coming from Talonir, it cut deeper than usual. The legendary respect between his father and Talonir made the dismissal all the more painful.

Kopa's eyes narrowed, and without hesitation, he stepped forward, defending Kon. "You're wrong, Talonir," Kopa said firmly. "Kon has earned his place among us. Whether you like it or not, the Arya chose him. That makes him one of us by right."

Talonir's cold expression didn't change, but his gaze briefly shifted to Kopa. "Potential means nothing without the strength and discipline to wield it properly. The prophecy may have started, but that doesn't mean I have to train someone unfit for the title. A Narn Lord needs more than power; they need wisdom, control, and the ability to make decisions that affect the entire land."

Kopa's temper flared. "And you think Kon doesn't have that? He's been fighting since he was a child. He's faced Razik and his forces more than once and lived to tell the tale. Orin would be proud of him, just like the rest of us are."

But Talonir remained unmoved. "Pride is meaningless if he can't live up to the legacy left by his father. Orin was more than just strong; he was a leader, a protector. He knew what it took to be a Narn Lord, even though he wasn't one."

Kopa's frustration boiled over. "How can you stand there and judge him without even giving him a chance?"

The argument between them grew more heated, their voices rising as they debated Kon's worthiness. Kon stood silently, caught in the middle, feeling the weight of every word being exchanged about him. Talonir's coldness stung, but Kopa's fierce defense of him was heartening. Still, Kon knew this wasn't Kopa's fight.

Finally, Kon took a deep breath and placed a hand on Kopa's shoulder, stopping him. "It's no use, Kopa," he said quietly. His voice was calm, but his eyes were filled with determination.

Kopa looked at him, surprised by the composure in Kon's voice. But Kon wasn't done.

He turned to Talonir, meeting his sharp gaze without flinching. "I've heard the stories about you," Kon began. "About how you and my father fought side by side, about the respect you had for one another. People said you were alike, both in strength and in heart."

Talonir's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't speak.

Kon continued, his voice steady and unyielding. "But after meeting you, I doubt that. My father would never turn his back on his comrades or on someone who needed him. He would never abandon someone just because they hadn't proven themselves yet. He believed in people, and he fought for them, even when they didn't ask him to."

Talonir's stern expression faltered slightly, a flicker of something passing through his gaze. Memories stirred within him—memories of Orin.

Talonir's mind drifted back to a time when he and Orin had been caught in a battle much like the one he had just fought. They had stood back to back, surrounded by enemies, fighting with everything they had. In a rare moment of calm, Talonir had asked Orin what he valued most in life. Orin had smiled, a smile that seemed to carry the weight of the world and said, "The people I call my comrades. I would never turn my back on them, no matter the cost. That's what matters most."

Talonir blinked, the memory settling over him like a heavy cloak. His cold exterior cracked, just a little, as he looked at Kon once again. And for the first time since their meeting, Talonir saw not just a young, untested Tracient but a glimpse of the fire that had burned in Orin.

Slowly, Talonir raised his hand, his gaze softening as he reached out. His rough fingers gently touched Kon's face, tracing the features that so closely resembled his father's. Kon stiffened at first, surprised by the sudden gesture, but then he saw something that shocked him even more.

A single tear slipped from Talonir's eye, tracing a slow path down his scarred cheek before falling onto the snow below.

"You really do have your father's eyes," Talonir whispered, his voice no longer cold but filled with the weight of loss and memory.

Kopa stood frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief. He had never seen Lord Talonir show such emotion before. The man who was known for his impenetrable exterior, the warrior who commanded respect and fear across Narn, was shedding a tear.

Talonir slowly withdrew his hand from Kon's face, his expression returning to its usual sternness, though the warmth in his eyes remained. "The shoes you're trying to fill, Kon," Talonir said quietly, "are not easy ones. Your father was a great man, and being his son means you'll carry that burden for the rest of your life."

Kon looked up at Talonir, his voice calm but filled with resolve. "I've been alone since I was a child. I've faced everything without anyone to guide me. Whatever's ahead, I'm ready for it."

Talonir allowed a faint smile to tug at the corner of his mouth. "Those are brave words, Kon," he said softly. "But bravery is only the beginning. We'll see if you can live up to them."

Talonir turned away, his gaze distant as he recalls the legacy of Orin Kaplan, the friend he had lost and the son who now stood before him, determined to carry on that legacy.