Her headdress is plumed with gold and red phoenix feathers, harvested only by the fiercest of warriors. The ones she owns, she took herself. She looks with disdain at the doorway leading to the balcony, the cheers just an annoying white noise. As her attendants leave her to greet the day with her subjects, she sighs, melancholy as usual.

In Eragru, the river rushes wild around the sprawling city, doing whatever its masters, the Flowbenders, bid it. The Flowbenders obey only the queen, and Reita is in no mood to command the waters today. She steps, barefoot and humbly dressed in red cotton with gold embroidery, onto the balcony. The crowd shrieks and roars, clapping and stamping.

Reita is blinded by the white houses, flashing in the light of the Sun God’s eye. He created them, the Eragrins, along with their mother, the River Goddess. Their heritage stemmed from gods, and so their empire expanded. Reita smiled upon the soldiers below, marching on the cobblestone streets.

A new morning, a new sacrifice.