Blade of Refum: Uncertain Allotment

==Part One: Servants of the Gods==
===Prologue===
Fireworks burst high in the warm night air. The bright light flared, opening like an enormous flower amidst the stars above the temple. The beam of fire twisted like a fiery streamer, shifting and changing from one color to two, then three, then four. What had started out as a single flare rapidly expanded into a technicolor blaze and filled the night sky with light.
The burst illuminated the steep pathway that cut a path through the surrounding forest and led to the top of the holy sanctuary. A small group of Sangheili hurried up that path, trying not to trip over themselves as the light from the fireworks extinguished.
Sesa 'Refumee looked up as another firework shot into the air and tried to suppress a smile. He turned his head, hoping that the dim light his his expression from Fya. His wife pulled ahead of the group, no longer trying to hide the anxiety she had been expressing since they had left the keep that evening.
"The ceremony has started!" she hissed, craning her neck to fix Sesa with a glare. "We're late!"
Sesa tapped his lower mandibles in mock remorse. "Ah, the embarassment. What shame we have brought upon the bloodline this evening!"
Fya made an irritated noise in her throat, but Sesa could see the grudging amusement behind her angry stare. He thanked the gods every day for the blessing they had bestowed upon his and Fya's union: one of them anxious to keep up appearences, the other content with the Refum bloodline's meager lot in life. They both knew that it hardly mattered that they were somewhat late. None of the major clans attending the festival would notice their tardiness and any of the other families who did would see it as an amusing talking point instead of some ludicrously intentional slight. No one had paid much heed to the Refums for generations and they certainly weren't going to start tonight.
Beside him, Vonu 'Refumee looked from his brother to Fya and chuckled. "You should have taken the children and left on your own," he told Fya. "Without anyone around, I would have been free to smack your husband around the head and drag him here, be he clan leader or no."
"As if he cares one wit about his dignity as clan leader," Fya said archly. "You could carry him in over your shoulders in front of the entire assembly and I doubt he'd see it as anything more than a joke."
"A funny joke," Sesa agreed, walking up the hill to join his wife. "One they would talk about for cycles to come. Maybe you've just found a way to restore Refum to prominence after all."
Fya's mandibles quivered as she struggled to decide between laughter and irritation. "Do you take your duties in the fleet as lightly as you take your role on Sanghelios?" she demanded. 
"Of course not. Vonu will tell you, I'm as strict an officer as they come back in the legion." Sesa ran an affectionate hand down Fya's robes. Between herself, Sesa, and Vonu, the Refum matriarch had taken the most care in preparing her clothing for the night's festivities. She wore a simple gown, embossed with a single pattern of runes that ran up and down its length reciting a passage from Forerunner scripture. Compared to her, he and Vonu could have been serfs, fresh in from the fields. Despite that, Sesa knew that his wife would be one of the plainer attendants at the festival. The thought made him feel somewhat guilty for his own lack of decorum, but in the end there was no changing the poverty of his bloodline. Sesa saw no point in languishing in remorse over his lot in life.
Behind them, Sesa heard a scuffling noise and a yelp of surprise. "Keep up, Tuka!" hissed a voice from the shadows.
"I'm trying!" whined another, younger voice. Tuka 'Refum, the younger of the Refum bloodline's two heirs, stumbled forward as Shinsu, his older brother, tried to discretely pull him forward.
Fya’s eyes narrowed dangerously but Sesa raised a calming hand as he turned back towards the youths. “Come now,” he chided gently. “Try to get along. This is a holy festival, after all. Every keep in the state is here.”
He shot an amused look at Fya. “We must make Refum look respectable, after all.”
His wife let out an irritated huff and turned back up the path with a dismissive wave. Tuka shook free of his brother’s grip and hurried after her. Shinsu lowered his head slightly, mandibles drooping in embarrassment. Of the two youths, Tuka would forget the whole thing by the time they reached the temple. Shinsu, however, would string from the rebuke for the rest of the night. “Forgive me, kaidon,” he said quietly.
Sesa waved away the apology and turned back to follow after Fya and Vonu. “It was nothing,” he said, walking a few paces before frowning and turning back. “It really was. Sulk over this and next time I will let your mother handle you so you have something real to beg forgiveness for.”
He waited until the youth’s mandibles twitched into a smile, then nodded and let his eldest son walk beside them as they hurried after the others.
Sangheili males were not usually permitted to know the identity of their fathers. Sangheili mated for life, but took many partners outside the bonds of marriage. The higher the status of the individual, the more children they were expected to rear. That was how powerful bloodlines—stronger bloodlines—maintained their supremacy in military and political matters. But Sesa had never been important enough to attract the attention of any female other than Fya. Refum was a small bloodline; aside from Shinsu and Tuka there was only one other child in the family. Vonu’s daughter Veash was little more than an infant, far too young to attend an event like this. Shinsu and Tuka had no choice but to know their father’s identity, though neither of them would dare acknowledge it to Sesa’s face. The taboo was too great, even for an unimportant bloodline like Refum.
Sesa did not mind Refum’s humble place in Sanghelios’s feudal structure. The pomp and circumstance of the larger keeps had never impressed him, and he did not envy the rigid protocols more powerful kaidons were forced to adhere to. He did not have to sleep fearing that assassins might try to kill him in the night, for who would care to take his head? For all her bluster about appearances and dignity, he knew Fya felt the same way. Vonu shared his love of the simple life. They had grown up together, trained together, and now served the gods together as the fleet continued its war against the humans and sought out new troves of holy relics. Sesa felt no urge to risk their lives in pursuit of glory. There were no expectations of him other than that he loyally serve the gods, the Covenant, and the kaidons above him.
If Sesa regretted one thing about Refum’s lowly station, it was that Shinsu and Tuka would be forced to inherit that station whether they desired it or not. Tuka, so young and bursting with energy, would find happiness in whatever tasks life put to him. But Shinsu…
Sesa glanced over at the youth, following at a respectful distance a few paces behind. There was something about his eldest, a certain hunger that felt alien in the scion of an unimportant bloodline like Refum. Shinsu was talented and intelligent beyond his years, but he would always carry the stigma of having been born into a subservient clan. Sesa wondered how Shinsu would cope with watching warriors of lesser abilities climb beyond him while he was expected to bow and scrape before the commands of the great houses.
My children owe me their respect and obedience, Sesa mused as they approached the temple gates. Beyond them the pavilion was filled with lights and the bustle of hundreds of Sangheili worshipers. But I owe them some sort of future. Something more than this simple life I am so content with.
Fya, Vonu, and Tuka waited impatiently by the gates. Sesa jerked his neck reflexively as he approached; much as he disliked it, he needed to slip into the role of kaidon. If only to keep Fya happy.
“I have duties that need attending to,” he told Shinsu. “We must keep up appearances, after all. The higher kaidons care about that sort of thing.”
Shinsu inclined his head. “Shall I accompany you, kaidon?” Sesa was not sure how his son viewed his lax approach to Sangheili decorum. Shinsu was the model of the dutiful Sangheili youth, never stepping beyond his place and maintaining a respectful air at all times. But Sesa knew that his son’s inscrutable gaze belied a fierce hunger for knowledge of the world around him. He would come of age soon and begin training to fight as a warrior in the Covenant’s armies—the duty of all male Sangheilli, regardless of bloodline. If he truly wants to advance, the fleet may give him that opportunity.
A twinge of apprehension passed through Sesa’s gut. He had spent the entirety of his adult life serving in the fleet, usually far behind the front lines but still enough to know certain things about the ongoing war with the humans. Amidst the tales of noble warriors winning glory in battle, there were also more troubling stories. Hushed news of entire fleets destroyed by colossal blunders or legions of warriors wasted by careless commanders. Sesa was content to limit himself to humble postings, but he knew Shinsu would strive for loftier heights. The thought of his eldest son’s life wasted at the whim of some fool shipmaster turned Sesa’s stomach.
“Kaidon?”
Sesa realized that he had been staring at Shinsu, who looked back at him curiously. He shook his head. “It is nothing. You all know how much I dislike these formalities. No need to drag you into them. Enjoy the festivities. Make sure Tuka stays out of trouble. And be patient with him.”
If Shinsu was disappointed by the decision, he did not show it. He simply nodded and walked over to join his brother. Sesa joined Fya and Vonu at the gate. Above them, another wave of fireworks burst in the night air. Now they really were late. He smiled apologetically to his wife, who just shook her head and motioned for him to enter first. “One of these days,” she murmured as he passed. “One of these days stunts like this will get you into trouble.”
“Perhaps,” he replied cheerfully, head held high. “But that’s why I have you, isn’t it?”
***
The temple grounds were normally strictly off limits to all but the acolytes assigned to them. On normal days, the large flat pavilion at the top of the great pyramid was completely empty, a reminder of the Forerunner gods’ disappearance down the path of the Great Journey where pilgrims reflected upon their own need to tread the path. But tonight the pavilion bustled with activity. A great crowd of Sangheili worshipers filled it from one edge to the other, locked in animated discussion as fireworks continued to burst overhead. A great banquet table filled the center of the pavilion, overflowing with meats, fruits, and delicacies shipped in from every corner of the Covenant Empire. Lights set up around the pavilion flashed and added to the festive air while a squadron of hovering Phantom dropships slowly circled the perimeter, shining even more lights down over the crowd.
A large dais had been set up at the far end of the pavilion. Rising above the milling crowd, it seated the elders and kaidons from all of the invited keeps. Rune-stamped banners marked the identities of each delegation, and above them all rose an even greater banner bearing the sigil of the House of Vadam.
Sesa, Fya, and Vonu passed through the crowd, their tardiness as unnoticed as their status as bloodline representatives. No one gave way or even paused to acknowledge the Refum delegation and so they had to push through the throngs of worshippers like rodents in a wheat field. After struggling in vain to carve a path up to the dais, Sesa turned to Vonu and spread his hands in supplication. His larger brother chuckled and took the lead, parting the crowd with firm shoves and ignoring the complaints that rang out from all sides. Sesa and Fya followed in his wake, nodding apologies to the irritated pilgrims.
“You are far too lenient,” Fya murmured into his ear. She walked with her head held high, regal even in her simple gown. “You are the kaidon.”
“Kaidon, yes,” he replied, doing his best to imitate his wife’s posture. “Of an unimportant keep. Most of the people here think themselves my superiors on account of their blood. I would prefer to avoid the stir it would cause if I were to throw out my authority and be challenged by some great keep’s branch cousin.”
“You have never cared for all the pomp and posturing,” she told him. “And I love you for it. But you need to show some pride. Think of the example you set for our children. They do not understand your attitude like I do. They see things in a different light.”
Sesa looked away as his wife voiced the same concerns he had felt on the walk up to the temple. “You are right, of course,” he admitted. She was right to chastise him. “There are matters I intend to see to in that regard.”
They reached the steps to the dais. Vonu stepped aside respectfully, allowing Fya and Sesa to ascend first. The dais guards, two Vadam warriors, stepped forward to block their ascent until one noticed the clan sigil on Sesa’s robe. He hesitated, glancing back at the seats prepared for clan representatives. After another moment he stepped aside and motioned for his companion to do the same. Sesa mounted the dais, casting his gaze about the dozens of seated kaidons and elders. Finally he saw a small setting amongst several other minor keep banners and waved Vonu over to it.
“Go on, before someone decides we aren’t coming and removes it,” he told his brother. “And make sure some food is waiting for me when I get there.”
Reall
He nodded to Fya. “Come on then. Time to pay homage to our gracious patrons.”
***
“Late.” Zura ‘Kotar observed as Shinsu slipped over to his space at the edge of the pavilion. “Even later than usual.”
“Really?” Shinsu asked with a cold stare. “Because I hadn’t been reminded enough by my mother.”
“Oh, don’t give me that look. Especially after I went to all the trouble of getting you food ahead of time.”
Shinsu noticed that his friend was balancing a large tray in one hand. Zura held the plate at a distance, careful not to stain his elegantly embroidered robes. The Kotar keep owed much of its great wealth to its renowned textile industry and they never attended any sort of event without the latest in Sangheili fashion. Beside the ornate ivy pattern adorning Zura’s robes, Shinsu’s dull gray tunic looked even shabbier by comparison.
Not that Shinsu minded. At least, he tried not to mind. Jealousy and embarrassment were unbecoming of a warrior. I am too old to let trivial things like this bother me, he told himself.
He took the plate with a nod of thanks and sampled its contents. Like Zura, he carefully avoided getting anything on his robes. Simple as they were, his mother had been diligent in teaching him etiquette. He had suffered too many blows from her sharp hands to eat sloppily in private, much less at a function as large as this one. The food was good, far better than meals at the Refum keep. But Shinsu could feel Tuka at his elbow, waiting eagerly like a feral scavenger. After a moment he sighed and passed the plate down to his brother, who fell upon its contents with far less decorum.
“Save some for me,” Shinsu told him irritably. The journey up here had been grating to begin with; large gatherings like this made him uncomfortable, especially when he was the most humbly dressed person in attendance. “And don’t go anywhere without telling me, first!” 
If his younger brother even heard him, he gave no sign. Shinsu bit back a rebuke and turned away from Tuka’s gorging. “And how long have you had the privilege of being here?” he asked Zura. His friend’s mandibles parted in a wry smile.
“Best be careful who hears you say things like that,” Zura said. “This is a holy festival, after all. Wouldn’t want the acolytes to hear that sort of talk. They might accuse you of blasphemy, and you’re cheerless enough without missing your head.”
“You shouldn’t joke about things like that.” Another Sangheili youth glided over to stand beside Zura. She crossed her arms over a robe with a matching ivy pattern and fixed him with a cold glare. “You remember what happened the last time one of the elders caught you making light of the temple authorities.”
Zura winced, though the smile didn’t leave his face. “Alright, I’ll watch my tongue,” he said with a playful swipe at the newcomer. She batted his arm neatly aside as if waving away a fly. “But you shouldn’t be listening in like that. Remember what happened the last time you were caught eavesdropping?”
Cena ‘Kotar pursed her mandibles and looked away from her brother with exasperation. “As if I would have any reason to eavesdrop on you,” she said contemptuously. “You talk so loud I can hear you above all this noise. If an acolyte had been nearby…”
“But the acolytes were not around,” Zura reminded her. “Besides, I think it’s even more blasphemous for you to just assume that holy people don’t possess a sense of humor.”
She shook her head. “You will thank me for my advice someday,” she informed her brother. “I hope you express your gratitude as loudly as you make your jokes.”
“And if my thanks is just another joke…”
Cena groaned and gave up on her brother. She turned to Shinsu, who quickly erased his expression and tried to purse his mandibles the way she did. Watching the siblings argue, he couldn’t help but be amused in spite of himself. Beside him, Tuka continued to gulp down the plate of food.
“We have been here for the past two days,” Cena explained irritably. “Watching our elders greet every notable dignitary on the planet as they arrived. Individually.”
“It sounds… enthralling.” Shinsu glanced back at the crowd. “A shame I had to miss it all.”
“We don’t all have the luxury of arriving at the last minute,” Cena snapped, though Shinsu knew better than to take offense. He had endured ridicule plenty of times in the past; Sangheili craved status, and there was no easier way to assert dominance than reminding everyone else that there was someone beneath them all. Cena was not mocking him like so many other children had done before. She was simply being sharp and direct, the way a female was expected to be. “Some of us have other duties to perform.”
“Yes, well…” Shinsu indicated his simple robe. “Being from my family does have its fringe benefits. Fashionably late arrivals among them.”
“Enjoy them while you can,” Cena replied.
“While he can?” Zura chortled. “He has the rest of his life to do that. Just look at his kaidon.”
Shinsu turned reflexively to glance back at the elevated platform where the kaidons and elders sat. His mother and uncles would be up there by now, most likely near the back along with the other lesser aristocrats. He quickly looked away. Refum’s low standing was easier to stomach back at the keep, where his mother’s rule was still law regardless of what the other clans might say. The kaidon always had a place of honor in his own keep. Festivals like this put Refum’s poverty on display for all the gods and Sangheili to see. Shinsu sometimes wondered if that was the real purpose behind these gatherings: to remind the keeps under Vadam of the order of things.
Sensing his embarrassment, Cena coughed guiltily and nudged her brother. Zura stopped laughing and looked away.
===Chapter One===