Chapter 69: Son of Storms
As Fareon grew older, his focus shifted from trying to unite the vast expanse of the Great Steppe to the pressing concern of succession within his tribe.
The weight of responsibility bore heavily upon him, and each day brought with it a nagging worry that the tribe he had painstakingly built would crumble once he passed from this world.
Despite the toll that age had taken on his body, Fareon mind remained as sharp as ever, and as always, a keen observer of the intricate webs of power and ambition that surrounded him.
He had noticed that none of his sons satisfied him.
Once he called upon them
Seated in his majestic tent, his weathered face etched with lines of wisdom, he called upon his sons for counsel.
He asks them what they would do, whose tribes should they attack, whose tribe they should allied with, these and many more questions.
Yet, even in these meetings, he could discern the looming shadows of his wives and the clans they represented, casting an ever-present influence over his sons.
Even the sons who sought to remain removed from the intricate politics of their mothers’ clans could not escape suspicion in Fareon discerning gaze.
The trust he once held for them waned, for he sensed their allegiances subtly swaying towards their mothers’ causes.
His heart yearned for a son who possessed an independent spirit, one whose thoughts and desires were untainted by the complex machinations that plagued the tribal realm.