Chapter 1 - The White Wind

Written by little song

Three months before the event’s in Middlemarch.
The land spread out before him like a map: glistening waters of Lake Elax, largest lake in the known realm, surrounded by lush trees and farmsteads that checked the earth like a quilt; the rising budge that was Middlemarch, neutral land from a conflict of three peoples; just beyond, barely seen the hill country of Kelindor with its great tower; beneath the wild lands of Heuntsia, red cabbages growing in the fields dotting the landscape with purple tints; the swamplands matted and tangled, pirate ships lying in haunts; three towers protruding in stone, remnants of Vachalous’ and Tir Cendel’s enmity; The Wilderness, trees growing ever taller threatening to block out the sun; unseen beyond lay the desert lands of Azidhar and the arrogant sky temple of the Order of Martyrs; the southern coast, so far yet still visible in the mist: so much beauty; so much history and conflict; so much ignorance; and yet so much hope.
Or that’s what he believed. Ever since joining the Storm Heralds he had loved to pause here above the world and reflect of what he saw. There was something about it that gave perspective, as looking up at the stars at night. He felt both small and insignificant and yet special and important. Contradictory and yet… perhaps not.
A chill invaded as a gust clawed at the layers of his clothing, white fog of frozen water floating rolled over enveloping him and covering the land in a pale curtain. He tilted maintaining the balance with the change of air and with one powerful beat rose higher above the clouds.
His head swam. The air was thinning. It was doubtful that below anyone could now see the tiny grey and white speck above. He realized a breath the water vapor imminently freezing and drifted away in a tiny swirl of a cloud. He blew out again shaping the ice with his hand and pulled it into a curl. Frost now was dusting his clothes and incasing his hair. It was always cold this high, even above the desert. His vision blurred warning him of the lack of oxygen. Not long now and he would pass out. It had happened once. He came too only moments before he slammed into the sea. The result; five broken ribs and a damaged radius that kept him out of the sky for nearly half a year. He would have been dead had not his brother found him desperately clinging to a floating log.
Thus… he should return home but… Higher! Just touch the sky and sore higher and higher past all danger or fear.
His lungs gasped begging him to go down, and he obliged tipping backwards and touching to rocket away from the heights. The mountains of Ina Tathen rushed towards him, but so far away still it would be a while before he was in danger of crashing. He closed his eyes relishing in the feeling of speed as his frame cut through the air the ice tearing off in the torrent. Just listen now. The sound of the wind changed near the earth. Just a few more seconds and twist, unfurl; the air caught within his wingspan and pulled him back, halting the forward momentum as he lightly stepped onto the edge of a peak.
A new scene lay before now. A coast an island beyond and city in the sky; home. Both happiness and sorrow filled his heart at the sight. Kokka, land that he loved more than any other kingdom; they had lost and forgotten so much, and he wanted nothing more than to share hope, but there, more than any other place, was never safe for a Tengu. Monsters, Akuma they called his Edo, demon home.
He shut his eyes to the sight and ran off the cliff launching back into the sky with one powerful flap. An updraft lifted him before he left the mountains range and soared above Ina Tathen. More likely that not anyone from below would just think him silvery grey bird.
A sliver Archer perhaps… he smiled, though he wasn’t an archer of course. When he was younger he thought about coming to them and claiming to be so. Cruel prank for it would ultimately dash their hopes.
Within minutes he transitioned over the sea the change in air imminent and drastic. A constant rhythm took over as he flapped to maintain height and momentum. The water was always the hardest terrain to fly over. Well, most would say a storm was, the freak wind patterns could throw and slam a Tengu around like a leaf, but a few that practiced very hard could read the winds and use it to bolster them. Storm flight then was exhilarating. Sea travel was just boarding and annoying, and could be tiring.
Not to him. Not yet anyway. He could fly this all day. But then again that was his job. He had flown the entire course of Ashnuw five times over by now every city he had seen from above, some even closer than that; every river and every little town or farmstead. He had even flew in the canopy of the wilderness and seen the races within. He knew where the healing waters of Marie Glaiss lay. (unless they are underground @VioletofSherwood) That was the task of the storm herald, though the peoples hated them, they watched over the land and recorded everything in the hopes that nothing would be forgotten or lost. Someday maybe the world would make use of the information.
His rhythm increased as he neared the island and the mountain that dwelt in the sky. From below a clear note of a horn sounded as no doubt the Akito watcher of min Jong had spotted him and were warning the rest of the ‘danger.’
“He has good eyes,” he commented, softly and rose.
Most of the other heralds flew higher before now so as not to raise alarm, but usually with his coloring he would not have been spotted anyway. Regardless he was beyond arrow range and would soon be…
One wing snapped in and he dipped to the left as a spear hissed by just above him to arched into the waves.
“Good aim too,” he thought and rapidly pulled himself out of firing range.
His father would not be happy that they had fired off a Bosuro, neither would the Voice of the Tempest. They would say he was becoming too careless. Though was it careless if you could dodge it easily. He did not know.
He would never claim to be the best herald. But it was established that he rose above average and had since a child.
Tilting he ceased his rhythm and gently floated onto the western landing platform.
Kanaye blinked at him his dark burgundy eyes conveying everything without words ‘fly higher next time. You know better than to raise the alarm.’
“Kanaye-sama, he stated and bowed deeply rounding his arms in front and spreading his wings till the tips lay on the ground to show full respect. “I pray for fair winds for you.”
“As for you Haku-kun,” the older herald replied mirroring the bow though left his wings tucked behind. “How faired your journey.”
“The sun shines. I have word of Navis Roche for Voice of the Tempest, Shin’ichi.”
The other nodded in response and drew forth a notebook to write such down.
Haku glanced down at the characters as he brushed by barely catching the word alarm half written. No hope of it not being recorded then. He would receive some sort of discipline for sure. Even so…
He dismissed it and flapped launching to the storm heralds tower.
Edo… once capital of Kokka, before the peoples split and there was not Jin or Salmaduel. Then Edo guided the land united in one goal, to create beautiful works to glorify Elyon. Now Kokka still focused on the task but had lost the vision, and Edo watched from above writing everything down afraid to forget.
He alighted on a third floor balcony of the Cloud Reaches Tower one of the few building not over a thousand years old. It has been constructed almost five hundred years ago when the elders realized the remnants of Kokka would never accept us back and instead decided to focus on preserving what remained of the knowledge before the Pale War and also to remap the word after the upheaval. Perhaps that was why they were given wings and eyes of blood; so that they could see farther.
“Haku-san,” one of the trainees greeted him bowing deeply as he landed. “Fair winds to you White Wind.”
“And to you Ryo-kun. Is Shin’ichi-sama in?”
“Yes.” The youth smiled, ruffling his feathers as he pulled his wings back in. “Though. he is in a meeting you’re your father actually.”
“Ah,” the white wind nodded.
“Would you like me to ask if you may join?”
“If it does not trouble you.”
“Of course not.” he finished and then disappeared behind a layer of blue curtains.
Within moments the fabric pealed back and a strongly built Tengu approached smiling his red eyes radiating relief though he tried to mask it.
“Father” Haku spoke bowing as his wings brushed the floor again. “Fair winds to you.”
“And to you.” he returned smiling and took his sons hands urging him back up. “It is good to see you. Have you eaten?”
“I just returned,” he said with a smile, and then nodded to Ryo behind.
“Of course I’ll let Akane know you will be around for dinner.”
“Ah actually,” he paused, a blush suddenly alighting on his pale skin. “I may be a little late.”
“Abiru-chan?” he asked with a knowing smile.
The blush deepened.
“Say no more. Just be sure to leave before it gets too late.”
“Thank you,” he returned bowing again as the blush vanished and his aura of confidence returned.
“Glad to see you safe, Haku-kun” a voice from the curtain called.
The white wind shifted his attention bowing deeply to the Storm Herald’s leader, the Voice of the Tempest.
“Fair winds to you, Shin-ichi-sama.”
“Fair winds to you, Shin-ichi-sama.”
“It is not needed.”
“Very well, let’s hear your report,” He returned and again disappeared behind the curtain.
With a last nod to his father, Haku followed and took a seat opposite the Voice. He then reached into the folds of his clothing and pulled out a small black book placing it on the table and sliding it forward.
“Navis Roche was it?” Shin’ichi asked picking up the book and flipping to the back.
“Yes, Shin’ichi-sama.”
“We have been getting several interesting reports about turnovers on the orders bases. Is it the same here?”
He blinked. “Yes actually. There seems to be turmoil seething underneath from what I can tell.”
“It’s no surprise I guess, but it is concerning. Was the headmaster there the whole time you watched?”
“Indeed as well as his favorite from last time?”
“He was there.”
“Our report from Bergenstaat said he was there as well.”
“He had just come back as I left. They have been doing a lot of trade with the nation. As near as I can tell they are constructing something. But even within their most secret meetings say very little details.”
The marooned eyes flicked up from the book and suddenly flashed to faintly glowing.
Haku understood. But he would find little change to indicate a lie. He knew better than to try and fool the Voice.
“You entered their meeting.”
“No. I listened outside. Forgive me for doing so without authorization but I feared that it was too important to miss. I was careful.”
“And yet you gained no fruit from this breach of protocol.”
“That is correct.”
“Haku-kun,” he sighed leaning back and putting a hand to his head. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Make me copy the tenants of the storm heralds.”
“Surely you’ve done that over a hundred times by now.”
“Well…”
“17.”
“We must respect the privacy of all. Though our job is to record we only enter the private conversation of nation or home upon our greatest need.” He recited, his face strait and calm.
“Well then?”
“Master, does the goings on of the order feel as if it is a great need to know?”
“That is not for one to decide.”
“I respect that. But at the time I did not feel like I could wait.”
“You feign respect Haku-kun. But you hold favorites.”
He looked down his blood rushing in anger despite himself.
“4,” The leader called sternly seeing the change.
“A herald should hold no favorite kingdom, land, or group, and take no part in trying to sway the course of war or conflict.” he responded still staring at the table.
“See. I feel any more times copying will only waste paper and ink with you. You know everything by mind already but not by heart.”
“Do we not as a people hold a favorite amongst the nations though?”
“We are part of Kokka, Haku-kun,”
“They don’t think so.”
“2.”
“Though all others forget we take it upon ourselves to record and remember what is true and protect the purity of that knowledge.” “Though all others forget we take it upon ourselves to record and remember what is true and protect the purity of that knowledge.”
“5.”
“Though Kokka fear us they are of our blood and brothers.”
“And so?”
“I understand. I just feel that we do favor Kokka before any other. So much of our efforts go toward protecting it. and…” he sighed.
“So we do. But failure to do well does not make the standard wrong.”
Haku looked back up the blood calming. “I am sorry. I miss stepped. Please forgive me.” he stated bowing.
“We have great potential for corruption with the gifts we were given, out tenants are there to try and prevent it.”
“I know.”
“I’ll figure out some way to drive that into you.”
“Master,” Haku paused still bowing as he spread his wing to the floor in respect.
“Number 48. In your goings be careful to raise no alarm from Kokka or cause them to fear. I was neglectful on the way in and caused the Bosuro of MinJong to fire.”
“Well at least you didn’t get taken down.”
“I am sorry.”
“Of course,” he paused. “Better to hear it from you than the gatekeeper.”
Haku nodded and remained bowed.
Carefully Shin’ichi scanned what remained of the logbook until finally closing it and commenting, “Rise.”
At that the herald returned to a sitting position and awaited instruction.
“To be sure, I don’t want you to be listening to meetings on a regular basis, but there may be something useful you have found.”
“Alright.”
“Please elaborate on what you remember about Middlemarch.”
“They did not say much. Only that they were sending the parts from Bergenstaat there.”
“Why?”
“I do not know. It…” he trailed off.
“Yes?”
“Forgive me. It is just surmising. But this whole… deal reeks of… war to me. The secrecy… from even their men… I wonder what else could they be building, if not a weapon. But why at Middlemarch?”
“It is centrally located for all of ashnuw today.”
“Granted,” he nodded. “And there is the guardian there who was in charge of protecting the relics of Nahara. Yet how would the Order, or anyone know of it. For centuries our libraries have been the only ones to house such knowledge aside from the Order of Nahara itself.”
“Yes.” the voice of the tempest stated looking to the side in thought. “No matter, it is useful to know. How soon can you be ready to set out again?” he continued, returning his gaze.
“Tomorrow morning if need be.”
“Digression, Haku-kun.” Shin’ichi laughed. “There is no need for anyone to work non-stop. You have had a long flight. It is fine to spend some time at home first.”
“When you need me then.” He smiled. “Again I am sorry. I shall try my best to not let it happen again.”