Chapter 7: Consequences

The air in the council tent was heavy with the scent of burning herbs, the smoke curling lazily toward the thatched ceiling. The elders of the Sang'Kalla sat in a circle around the central fire, their faces lined with age and wisdom. Each bore the tattoos of their lineage, their foreheads marked with the sigil of the bloodline they swore to protect.

Kael'Rhaal stood before them, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. Despite his stoic demeanor, a tension simmered beneath the surface.

"You saw it yourselves," one of the elders, Varrok, said, his voice rough as gravel. "The boy faltered. The blade whispered, and he almost succumbed."

"He didn't," Kael replied, his tone firm. "He stopped himself before it was too late."

"Only because you intervened," Varrok countered, his sharp gaze locking onto Kael. "If you hadn't been there, the boy would have grasped the sword and damned himself—and all of us."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the circle. Elder Yshana, a woman with silver braids and piercing blue eyes, leaned forward. "We've placed too much faith in him, Kael. We thought his strength, his red eyes, the ritual—everything—would make him different. Stronger. But he's proven otherwise."

Kael's jaw tightened. "He's still young. He needs time."

"Time is a luxury we don't have," Yshana said coldly. "The Sang'Kalla survive because we act decisively. If Su'Rhaal cannot resist the corruption of the Darkin, he cannot be trusted to lead us."

The words hung heavy in the air.

Varrok spoke again, his tone deliberate. "The tribute to Noxus approaches. Their warmachine grows hungry, and their eyes have turned to us once more. Let the boy go. Let him prove his worth to the empire that values strength above all else."

Kael's eyes narrowed. "You would exile my son?"

"We would protect the tribe," Varrok said, his voice unyielding. "This is not exile—it's an opportunity for him to serve a greater purpose. And if he survives, perhaps he'll return stronger."

Kael's silence spoke volumes.

Outside the tent, Su sat near the village's edge, his back against a weathered stone pillar. The sky above was streaked with the deep purples and oranges of dusk, the fading light casting long shadows over the plains.

His hands rested on his knees, his fingers absently tracing the grooves of the tattoos on his arms. His mind replayed the moment in the Shrine over and over—the hum of the sword, the whispers in his mind, the feeling of his father's hand pulling him back.

"You're brooding again."

Su looked up to see Zanaiya approaching, her trident resting across her shoulders. She sat beside him, the metal of her weapon gleaming faintly in the twilight.

"Don't you have better things to do?" Su muttered.

"Nope," Zanaiya replied with a smirk. "Besides, someone has to keep you from falling apart."

Su scoffed. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are," Zanaiya said, her tone light but her eyes sharp. "That's why you're sitting out here like the world just ended."

Su's gaze drifted back to the horizon. "They were right, you know. I wasn't ready."

Zanaiya tilted her head. "Maybe not. But that doesn't mean you never will be."

He frowned. "The elders don't think so."

"They're old," Zanaiya said with a shrug. "They see the world in absolutes. Strength or weakness. Worthy or unworthy. But the truth is, none of us are born ready for what's ahead. We just figure it out along the way."

Su glanced at her, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. "Do you really believe that?"

Zanaiya smiled faintly. "I believe in you, if that's what you're asking."

Later that night, Kael sat alone in his tent, the flickering firelight casting his shadow against the wall. His thoughts were heavy, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him like a physical force.

The flap of the tent opened, and Yshana entered, her expression unreadable.

"You've made up your mind, haven't you?" she asked.

Kael exhaled slowly. "I don't like it. But I see no other choice."

"Yur son has potential," Yshana said, her tone softer than before. "But potential alone won't save us. If he's to survive in this world, he must learn what it means to be Sang'Kalla."

Kael's gaze hardened. "And you think Noxus will teach him that?"

"They'll teach him strength," Yshana said. "What he does with it will be up to him."

----one month later-------

At dawn, the drums of the Rite of Passage echoed through the village, their deep, resonant beats summoning every man, woman, and child to the central square.

Su stood among the gathered crowd, his heart pounding as Kael stepped forward to address them.

"The time of tribute has come," Kael said, his voice carrying across the square. "Once again, Noxus demands our warriors, and once again, we shall honor the pact that ensures our survival."

His gaze swept over the crowd, lingering on Su for a moment longer than necessary.

"Su'Rhaal," he said finally, his tone heavy. "Step forward."

A hush fell over the square as Su obeyed, his steps slow and deliberate.

"You have been chosen to serve," Kael continued. "To carry the strength of the Sang'Kalla beyond these plains. Prove yourself worthy, not just to Noxus, but to the bloodline that flows through you."

The crowd gathered in the square murmured softly, their eyes shifting between Su and Kael. The weight of the declaration hung in the air like a storm about to break.

Su stood frozen in place, the words "You have been chosen to serve" echoing in his mind. His chest tightened, and a faint tremor ran through his hands.

"I… don't understand," Su said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kael's expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—regret, perhaps, or sorrow. "You will leave with the tribute, Su. It is the will of the council."

Su took a step forward, his voice rising. "The will of the council? They said I wasn't ready to lead, but this—this is exile!"

The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, some casting nervous glances toward the elders seated behind Kael. Su's scarlet eyes burned as he looked toward them, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I can prove myself," he continued, his tone fierce. "Give me another chance—another trial. Let me show you I'm worthy of our bloodline!"

Elder Varrok rose slowly, his presence commanding despite his age. "You've already shown us your strength, boy. But strength alone is not enough. The sword whispered to you, and you listened. That is why you must go."

"I didn't touch it!" Su shouted, his voice cracking with desperation.

"And yet, you wanted to," Yshana said coldly, her gaze piercing. "You can't lead us if you can't lead yourself. The council's decision is final."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Su's breath came fast, his mind racing for a way to fight back, to convince them, to prove that he was more than their disappointment. But the elders' faces were set, their judgment immovable.

Then, a voice broke through the tension.

"If Su goes, so do I."

The crowd turned as Zanaiya stepped forward, her trident resting across her back. Her gaze was steady, her chin held high as she walked to stand beside Su.

"This isn't your fight, Zanaiya," Kael said, his voice low but firm.

"With respect, Kah'Varra, it is," Zanaiya replied. "I was chosen to protect him—to guide him. That hasn't changed, no matter what the council decides."

Yshana's lips tightened. "You would abandon your place in the tribe to follow a boy who failed his trial?"

"I would honor my oath," Zanaiya said sharply. "And if he's going to Noxus, he'll need someone to remind him who he is."

Su glanced at her, his expression a mix of gratitude and confusion. "Zanaiya, you don't have to—"

"Shut up, Su," she interrupted, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this because I know you're going to get yourself killed if I'm not there."

Kael's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his eyes fixed on Su and Zanaiya. For a brief moment, the mask of the Kah'Varra cracked, revealing the father beneath.

"Zanaiya," he said softly, his tone almost pleading. "You know the dangers of the empire. It is not a place for loyalty or honor. Once you go, there's no guarantee you'll return."

"And yet, I'm going," Zanaiya said firmly.

Kael closed his eyes, exhaling a slow, controlled breath. When he opened them, the mask was back in place. "Then so be it."

He turned to Su, his gaze heavy with unspoken words. "You carry our bloodline, Su. Whatever path you walk now, you must carry it with pride. Do not dishonor it."

Su wanted to respond, to promise he wouldn't let his father down. But the lump in his throat made it impossible. He nodded instead, his scarlet eyes shimmering with a mixture of anger and shame.

As the drums signaled the end of the assembly, the villagers began to disperse, their whispers trailing behind them.

Su and Zanaiya stood at the edge of the square, the weight of the moment settling heavily over them.

"So, Noxus," Zanaiya said lightly, breaking the silence. "Think we'll like it?"

Su huffed a bitter laugh. "Doubt it."

She clapped him on the back. "Good. Means we'll fit right in."

Behind them, Kael watched in silence, his broad shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Yshana approached, her expression unreadable.

"You did what had to be done," she said.

Kael didn't respond immediately. His eyes remained on his son, now walking toward the village outskirts with Zanaiya by his side.

"Did I?" he murmured finally.

Yshana's expression softened, a rare flicker of empathy crossing her features. "We'll see him again, Kael. And when we do, he'll be stronger. Just as we need him to be."

Kael's gaze lingered on Su until he disappeared into the horizon. Only then did he turn away, the burden of his decision etched deeply into his face.