Somewhere in the Multiverse
Arya'rayku K'romjhi, Zet'varethi, Khroniktuz
Lion's Mane City, Arydia, Khroniktus
"We are running out of time..." growled Priest-king Neodin Shadowslayer as he slammed his fist on the table.
Neodin was tall, even for an Aryite, and resonated with an authority that dwarfed his stature. A golden brown mane lined with streaks of grey surrounded his fierce and noble feline face and cascaded down his shoulders and back. Long flowing robes of royal purple, gold, and silver clad his sturdy body and barely covered his clawed paw-like bare feet. His eyes shone like two stars that were illuminated with an aura of wisdom, nobility, virtue, and honor. His long tail twitched in irritation behind him while he pressed his furred hands against the surface of the table before him.
"Construction on the ark is on schedule..." replied Archmage Sheodin Thundermane. "The rift to the sub-dimensional shipyard is still stable and the time-lapse ratio has not fluctuated."
Sheodin stood a hair taller than Neodin. Azure and silver robes contrasted the vibrant purple and gold that adorned his brother. His body, built like a mountain, was covered in auburn fur that was salted with traces of silver, gray, and white. A long silver mane fell across his chest and upper back. His eyes, filled with an ancient power, glowed like twin full moons. While the power that radiated from the king was almost divine in nature, the archmage's was cosmic and arcane - as if the universe itself postured before him. A paw-hand stroked his long beard while he eyed his king. Sheodin's brow furrowed in mutual concern with his brother.
"Your spellwork is not my concern, Sheodin." Neodin replied as he glared at the mountains of data that scrolled across the crystalline tabletop. "The ark may yet provide a suitable temporary home for our people, but that is its issue. It is temporary. I will not allow our people to become nomads without a land to call their own - without a land where they can sow crops, raise their children, and build a home."
"We both know that terraforming is out of the question..." Sheodin said as he dissected the data streaming from the research colony. "The process of stimulating a dead planet's magical field in order for our crops, and by extension ourselves, to thrive is too volatile."
"Aye..." Neodin frowned at the memories from the experiments. They were... less than fruitful. "Thus we must acquire suitable land from the other nations until we can perfect the process."
"That will be risky at best. Not even my foresight can predict their response."
"We will have to trust in Leolik..." Neodin sighed as he buried his face in his palms and ran his fingers through his mane. "And we will have to trust that we have the resources to make a worthwhile trade. I simply do not see how, though... Our people can barely fill the numbers of a mere colony of the Aschen or Taiyou. What do we have to offer to these giants that we seek to congregate with?"
"Well, unless you want to take land by force, we do not have much of a choice besides living as nomads!" Sheodin growled.
Neodin frowned sadly and fell silent for several moments before meeting his brother's gaze with a glare that could crumble mountains and cow storms. "If it falls to that... So be it. We have lived with this curse for far too long to see our people be burned along with our world, or for their legacy to be untold generations of drifting through the cold and unforgiving void - never to feel the warmth of a sun on their coats or soil beneath their paws. No. We will claim a new home for ourselves through either the scale or the sword!"
Sheodin pursed his lips and furrowed his brow more deeply. He exhale a drained sigh. "... Then we will pray that it is the former."
The Priest-king's eyes drifted from the table and out of the window overlooking the city. Lion's Mane still possessed the relatively same architectural style from his youth... Stone and wood. His people still walked on foot in this part of Arydia. Dark clouds loomed above the blacksmithing shops while merchants bartered their wares in the bazaar. Children played in the streets, innocent of the troubles of kings and mages. Armed guards stoically watched over the citizens as they went on with their lives.
"Yes... Pray that it is the former." Neodin whispered.