Orphans & Outcasts: Chapter Three

They have called it the Thousand Sol-Cycle War.

I wonder what name it will be given a thousand sol-cycles from now, dearest Sekhmet.

I grow weary, our children grow weary, watching a world rip itself apart through war and hatred.

My mirrors reflect a light of a fading dawn age. I feel so old, so tired, so alone.

I miss you.

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Denvy breathed heavily through his aching air-gills. His body was decaying faster than he had anticipated. The trip over the Ovin-tu Mountains, crossing the path of the Three Little Kings, through thick snowfalls, vast forests, and rocky cliffs, had brought on a Humanlike illness to his now-mortal body. Titus believed something akin to pneumonia was attacking his respiratory system. He had never heard anything more ridiculous in his life. Kattamonts did not ca