I see a scene in my head. It goes something like this:
The last Danok lies dying at the warrior's feet, it's silver blood soaking into the raven sands of the arena. More of that same blood drips from his sword, from his hand, from his face. He tastes it in his mouth like a raw and bitter wine.
He looks up at the stands surrounding him. The Vhichang mob is on its feet, the bright feathers on their bodies standing up with excitement. They chant his name in hawkish voices. "Raath! Raath! Raath!"
A sudden roar of sound drowns out the mob. Raath's gaze is drawn higher, into the golden sky. A metallic object as big as the arena hovers there. He recognizes it as some kind of ship, but it is nothing like the Vhichang vessels he has seen. On its side there is writing.
A weakness sweeps over Raath, a weakness that no foe has ever caused in him. He recognizes the writing from a childhood he barely remembers. He can read it.
"United States Air Force," it says.
Where will this scene take me? Anywhere? Nowhere? I only know that I feel a character growing in my head. And I wonder.