Serious Business (Blackwings vs. Lightsworns!) Chapter 5.5: Birds Of A Feather

[Brinolovania]

I like this. I like this a LOT. But, why are Gale and Kalut brothers?

[Lord Smeagle]

Firstly, because they look similar. Secondly, because they make a good team. Thirdly, because it works for the purposes of the story.

[Dr. Cakey]

Firstly' date=' because they look similar. Secondly, because they make a good team. Thirdly, because it works for the purposes of the story.

[/quote']

 

Fourthly, because everyone knows they really are brothers. And Breeze is apparently their long-lost sister.

[Lord Smeagle]

This is a BUMP, and I have an excuse because I have a new sig for this story.

 

Ch. 5 is coming, people...just a mild case of writer's block. Promise, I'll get over it.

[Lord Smeagle]

Chapter 5 is up! Click the link, but be sure to leave your comments here!

[Dr. Cakey]

Chapter 5 is up! Click the link' date=' but be sure to leave your comments here!

[/quote']

 

'Kay, I'll remember to leave the post I left over there over here :P. This is definitely me trying to make sure your story stays afloat, and has nothing to do with +1postcount.

 

But in response to that, I can't believe I didn't think of Ominous Fortunetelling - I mained it for the longest time.

[Phantom Roxas]

Haven't read any of this, but Gagagigo is an option on the poll and so I demand that the next Serious Business to be about Gagagigo.

 

Incidentally, I like what you're trying to do, so I'll give this a read.

[Lord Smeagle]

(Since Phantom Roxas doesn't like multiple-thread stories, for good reasons, Chapter 5 goes HERE.)

 

[spoiler='[b]Chapter 5: Why The Caged Bird Sings[/b]']

 

The Raven tribe sailed on under a sky as black as Elphin’s mane. What else could they do? They could bury their dead, but it would be years before the forest recovered. The Black-Feathered Dragon was a spirit of revenge. It would exact only vengeance for their shed blood and fallen flock, and vengeance would never bring it back. Only vengeance, never justice. Is this to be my legacy? thought Elphin. An eye for an eye? A life for a life? Nothing good would ever come of it.

Elphin looked over at Zephyros; his finest, proudest soldier, now a battered wreck, but still leading the sorry formation alongside him. His face and arms were horribly burned, his crest ruined, his armor in a disgraceful state of disrepair. He had allowed himself to be trapped, he had failed his brothers the Talon Guard, and he had failed the entire tribe. And yet, he continued on, resolute as ever. What lay behind the inscrutable golden mask? he wondered. He wasn’t entirely sure he wished to know. All they could do was beg Silverwind for asylum.

 

~~

 

Fane opened an eye. He heard footsteps coming down to the wall of his cell. Perhaps, he mused, it was the monk again looking for a rematch – but alas, no such luck. He looked up and beheld the shadowed face of Garoth looming over him, grinning. “I have told you everything that I know,” said Fane patiently, as if speaking to a child. “Why do you continue to interrupt my meditations? Surely you have better things to do than this.” Garoth just kept his big, dumb grin.

“Oh, well,” he said, “there’s just something a friend of mine thought you might want to see.” From behind his back, Garoth retrieved a small glass orb and held it up so that Fane could clearly see it. Fane tilted his head slightly to the side, looking through the glass orb at Garoth’s face. “Sorry,” he said, “but your face doesn’t look any less stupid. It was worth a try though.” Garoth’s teeth clenched; he wouldn’t rise to the bird’s bait. “Really now? Look closer.”

Fane looked into the glass again, pretending to actually be looking for something, and saw his home ablaze. He saw birds scrambling from the treetops to get out. He saw hens and chicks burnt alive by the dancing flames of the firedogs and the slow-burning legions of the dragons. He felt hollow inside. “You recognize it?” asked Garoth. “What of it?” asked Fane. “I’ve no family there. It’s a job,” he said coldy. “There are others. So what if it burns?”

Garoth tossed the orb up in the air and caught it. “Mm-mm,” Garoth said, pretending to be shocked, “so…cold. Well then,” he continued, cruel eyes twinkling, “you seem like a practical sort of bird. Perhaps you’d be willing to consider…other employment opportunities?” he asked. “Lord Kristya’s vaults are overflowing, and I am quite generous.” Fane looked up at Garoth for several moments before he spoke. “Listen well, human. I would die a thousand deaths before I lifted even a finger at your command.” Garoth grinned even wider.

“That’s fine with me, bird,” he said, “but unfortunately, I can only guarantee you one execution. The monks don’t need your savages’ ‘training’ anyway, just a good solid shield, I say…” He started turning away, but Fane called out. “The monks,” he said sharply. “I will speak with the monks.” Garoth looked over his shoulder. “I’ll mention it. But I’d be more concerned about speaking with your maker, now. Hope he’s more forgiving than Lord Kristya,” he said, before vanishing into the dark.

 

~~

 

Well, this is a fine mess, thought Shura on the shoulders of a number of Silverwind’s guards. Her wings and arms were tied, and even if they weren’t, she was unarmed, and the guards wielded razor-sharp blades. She looked over at Bora, who was being carried alongside her. “You have any idea where they’re taking us?” she asked, but Bora did not respond. Sure, now he’s going to be quiet, she thought bitterly.

Fortunately, one of the guards was happy to answer for him. “Chief Silverwind has decreed,” he began most officially, “that all those who provide false information to the Chief are to be thrown into the swamp.” “That’s all?” asked Shura, then added hastily: “I mean, that’s a horrific punishment, just leaving someone there in a swamp! How could you possibly be so cruel?” The guard snorted. “Oh, it’s just a fantastic method of disposing of undesirables. We don’t have to do a thing, we just leave the Venom Boas to their work.” Shura shuddered; maybe it wouldn’t be quite so easy.

They were shuffled about for several more minutes before they reached a large bamboo platform on the edge of the swamp. Shura angled her head around and beheld the three-eyed head of a thick, blue serpent peeking out of the water. Each of its three leering eyes looked positively voracious.

The guards set Shura and Bora against bamboo poles near the edge of the swamp. One of the guards looked Bora in the eye. “Any last words?” Bora just glared back. “Didn’t think so,” said the guard, chuckling darkly. “I do,” said Shura angrily. “Silverwind’s a paranoid tyrant, and if you don’t listen, you’ll all die a far worse death than we!” The guard approached Shura. “Listen, we’re just doing our jobs,” said the guard, dropping his voice. “Great benefits, and Silverwind’s much less likely to have us executed this way. Nothin’ personal, but better you than me.”

There was a sound of flapping wings. Shura and the guard both looked up, and beheld a small, winged silhouette descending onto them. The guard stepped back; the bird landed with a loud, wooden clap as his wooden sandals hit the deck. The bird stood barely two feet tall, dressed in a black coat. His feathers were pale gold, save for the brilliant red crest of his forehead. He stood between the guard and Shura, though he obviously did not intend to fight.

“Move out of the way!” shouted the guard, reaching for his blade. “These birds are to be executed on Chief Silverwind’s orders!” The bird just shook his head. “Move or what, you hired goon? I suppose you’ll kill the Chief’s prized seer and explain to him that I was in your way?” The guard faltered, put away his sword, and stepped back, but the black-coated bird shook his head. “No, get it back out and cut them loose already. I assure you, do this and Silverwind will thank us all with a fine feast and much honor.” The guard was baffled. Had the seer gone mad?

The bird seemed to sense his uncertainty. “Go ahead, if you aren’t sure. After all, I’m less likely to kill you than the Chief. But the chick is not wrong.” He tilted his head to the side. “Silverwind’s fears have been…justified.” “What do you mean, seer?” demanded the guard. “Stop with the riddles, and speak straight!” “All will be explained. Cut them loose, and seek an audience with the Chief.” The guard nodded nervously, withdrew his blade and cut the ropes binding their hands and feet. Another guard ran back through the forest to consult with Silverwind. “Cut their wings loose, too,” added the bird. “They won’t fly away. Not if they know what’s good for them.”

 

~~

 

Kalut awoke from the best sleep of his life and found himself alone. He was in the bed in the small white room again, but the bed beside him was empty, and Breeze was nowhere to be found. He pushed the fur blankets back and climbed out of the bed. Odd sort of nest anyhow, he thought, but gosh if it wasn’t warm! “Hello? Breeze? Anyone?” No one answered. He went to the door and opened it, immediately feeling a blast of frigid air from outside.

Outside, a stark white bird with black-edged wings sat with his foot stuck in the ice. The bird looked up and waved as Kalut shut the door behind him. Kalut approached slowly, wary of the ice. “D-do you need some help, sir?” The bird raised an eyebrow. “Help? Not unless you know how to ice-fish, kid” he said, and pulled his foot cleanly out. Grasped in his talons was a shiny, blue fish, flapping its fins back and forth as if it were trying to fly out of the bird’s hand. He had to adjust his grip to keep it in his talons. “Huh, a nimble little sunfish, ain’t he?” He held the fish up with his foot.

“Uh, yeah, I guess he is,” said Kalut uneasily. “Uh…have you seen my brother around?” The bird looked down thoughtfully. “Ah, weeeel…about your height? Green and purple feathers? Funny little wings on his ears?” Kalut grinned. He had never lost his brother in a flock. “Yeah, that’s him,” he said. The bird looked towards the far end of the ice floe. “He went that way, across the water, to the northern floes near the Ice Barrier,” said the bird. “Thanks,” said Kalut hastily, and immediately took off before the bird had a chance to say anything.

“Ah well,” said the white bird, and tossed the fish back in the hole, then followed quickly after Kalut. It would live to swim another day. “Hey, kid!” shouted the bird, “You don’t need to go alone! What’s the hurry?” he said. Kalut looked back at him, surprised; the white bird caught up to him. “If you aren’t from around here, the air currents will wear you down fast!” Well, that certainly explained some things. He could barely gain any ground with the wind pushing him back this way. “The name’s Blizzard,” said the bird. “Try and keep up, will ya?” He dived to the right, and glided effortlessly through the wind. Kalut followed in a rush of black feathers, and pushed through.

 

~~

 

The huge body of a whale began to breach the surface of the water. “Steady now!” said a bird on the edge of the floe. “Don’t fire until you can see its flippers!” He and the other hunters – birds in black armor plating with masks – took to the sky, brandishing their harpoon guns while circling the creature as it surfaced for air. A Fortress Whale would make a feast for all four villages! Gale and Breeze watched from the far end of the floe, hiding behind a ridge in the ice to watch the hunters.

“This is the best part,” explained Breeze. “The timing of the Armed Wings is expert. As soon as it surfaces, they all hit the key spots with their harpoons, and then haul it up onto the ice. But they have to be careful of the guns.” “Guns?” asked Gale. “I thought you said they were hunting a big fish, er, thing.” Breeze laughed. “Obviously you’ve never seen a Fortress Whale,” she said, pointing.

Evidently, he wouldn’t see one today either, because the body that surfaced was not nearly so wide as a Fortress Whale, and the armor plating did not come standard. It sprang from the water, a great white plated serpent with wings, and lashed out at one of the hunters, quickly devouring him. He promptly rounded on another hunter and opened its mouth wide, letting out a fearsome roar and a burst of blue energy that sent the hunter reeling into the distance. Breeze looked on in horror.

“What is that?” asked Gale. “Brionac,” she whispered, visibly panicked. “the First Spear of the Ice Barrier. He shouldn’t be this far south, though!” She tugged on Gale’s wing. “We have to leave! He’s too dangerous!” “More dangerous than a giant fish with guns?” asked Gale, skeptical. “Yes,” shouted Breeze, “now come on!” Brionac looked up, apparently having heard the noise, roared, leapt from the water and plunged through the ice, plowing through the center of the floe as if it were foam. Breeze and Gale took wing as Brionac snapped furiously at them, to no avail.

“Don’t let him catch you with his airblast,” Breeze said, as she flapped furiously. “The wind will carry you for miles.” “Gotcha,” said Gale as he ascended well out of reach of the dragon. He looked down find that Brionac had extended great white wings, and was now gaining on them! He struggled to fly faster, but he wasn’t nearly strong enough yet. He felt the dragon’s breath colder than death on his back, and then heard the piteous roar of a wounded animal.

“Hyooorgh!” roared the Brionac, as a lone hunter attempted to hold it back with only a harpoon and chain stuck between its armored plates. The dragon inched forward, struggling furiously to get free, but the harpoon was stuck deeply between the plates. Gale was well out of reach by now, so the dragon rounded on the hunter, sinking his teeth deep into the armor plating of his arm. Gale looked up and saw Breeze diving straight towards the dragon. “Don’t do it!” he called out. Breeze landed hard on the dragon’s head and bounced right off. Brionac released the hunter’s arm and lunged upwards.

Seeing an opportunity, the hunter dodged left and swooped under the dragon’s wing, wrapping the chain of the harpoon around the dragon’s body and then its throat. The hunter now held the dragon so tightly, he was incapable of roaring or firing an airblast, but it didn’t stop him from thrashing about with its transparent wings, and the hunter had difficulty holding on. As Gale watched from a distance, it occurred to him that the dragon’s wings, while powerful, didn’t look very sturdy. They already had a number of fractures along the edges! No wonder he kept them retracted most of the time.

Gale flapped twice, took a deep breath, and dove straight in, tearing through the dragon’s wing like a thin sheet of ice. The dragon let out a strangled screech as it lost its resistance. The hunter looked up at Gale, then back to the task at hand. He reached forward and punched a hole in Brionac’s other wing. The dragon now thrashed about helplessly in the air, much heavier to lift, but powerless to resist the hunter. The hunter looked down and laughed heartily. Eight hunters couldn’t have brought down one of the Spears, but one hunter and two kids had? The village would never believe this particular legend…if he wasn’t carrying living proof.

 

~~

 

Night fell, and the Raven tribe roosted at last. Even those who cried themselves to sleep did find sleep at last, but Elphin could not even do this. Long after his watch was over, he stared sharp-eyed into the night, expecting some answer to simply come to him. But he was no seer, and Sirocco’s font of wisdom seemed to have run dry. He had only instinct, trial and error, and this had failed him. Perhaps some crisp night air would do him some good. (As if he hadn’t got enough air during that morning.)

Elphin took off and soared through the sky on silent wings, surveying the landscape, feeling the gentle wind beneath him. Clearing his mind did him little good; he only saw more clearly his failure. What if the survivors attempted a mutiny? Could he be assured of Zephyros’s loyalty? The Talon Guard were closer than brothers; Zephyros, then, had lost half of his family today. Mistral, of course, would never think of it…but the soldiers were more likely to rally around Zephyros.

He came in for a landing in a quiet clearing. No sooner did he touch the ground than he heard a rustle in the leaves behind him. “Who goes there?!” called a voice. Elphin turned around slowly. “I am Elphin the Raven, Chief of the Raven Tribe,” he said. More rustling. Some sort of ambush? How many were there? Elphin couldn’t tell, but he kept his guard up. “Well then, Chief…SHOW ME YOUR MOVES!” A dark figure shot out of the bushes to the side. Elphin looked up just in time to see a blood-red helmet with a mask, before the enemy was upon him.

The assailant’s arm shot out, holding a short blade; Elphin caught the assailant’s arm and twisted it. His attacker roared, then thrust a clawed fist into his stomach. Elphin kneed the assailant in the stomach and forced him off of him with a fearsome blow to the chest. His enemy staggered back; Elphin could clearly see him now. He was easily a head taller than Elphin, wearing finely crafted armor and a tasset. His opponent was winged, too – so why did he wait until he was on the ground?

The assailant came again, trying to get at Elphin’s throat with the knife. Elphin dodged under the blade and launched upwards, his shoulder plowing into his taller opponent’s stomach, and then lashed out with his talons to wound his leg. Now unbalanced, the assailant faltered; Elphin wrested the knife from his control, forced his opponent to the ground and stuck the point of the knife to his throat. To his shock, the attacker just laughed.

“Well played, Chief,” said the would-be assassin, visibly grinning, eyes inscrutable behind the mask. “Go on then, finish me off. To the victor go the spoils.”

Elphin held the blade steady. “I don’t want spoils, I want an explanation. Who are you? Why did you try to kill me?” he demanded. The soldier just grinned, and countered with a question of his own. “Why does fire burn, Chief? Why does the world turn?” He chuckled. “Call me Battlestorm.”

 

~~

 

The Hall of the Righteous Fists was lit by torchlight, but it seemed as bright as day. In shackles too heavy to dream of flight, Fane was escorted in, forcibly, to speak with the headmistress of the monks. As expected, it was the same woman – Ehren, according to the burly monks that flanked him. She carried a metal staff Fane briefly inclined his head in what might have passed for a bow.

“Ah, excellent. The prisoner comes,” she said. “You may wait outside,” she said, with a flapping hand gesture. The monks bowed and left silently, leaving the monk and the bird in chains. “Your name is Fane, yes?” she asked. “That is correct,” said the prisoner flatly. Ehren smiled. “Very good.” She walked back and forth; Fane’s eyes never left her staff.

“Your style…it is interesting to me. Your movements are so rigid, and yet they flow. Like a wave of stone, yes?” Fane raised an eyebrow. “I have never heard that analogy,” he said, frowning. “But I suppose it is adequate. Why?” She smiled. “Because,” smiled the monk, “I intend to learn it. Master it.” Fane’s eyes narrowed. “Why would I train you to help you better destroy my people?” he asked suspiciously. Ehren’s smile faded. “I have nothing against your people, bird. Aurkus says that it is Kristya’s will. I am not sure if I believe him,” she said.

Fane looked up and met Ehren’s gaze. “When I was in my country,” she continued, “I was taught that the Archlords were peaceful, benevolent rulers. His Majesty, Zerato, was a noble lord, who defended his people and righted wrongs wherever he went. That was a cause which I would serve. But when I came here to study at the Citadel of Kristya…” She looked away. “I did not find this justice. Kristya, it seems, is a harsh master. Cruel, even.” She thought for a moment.

“But I do not know if he is evil,” she said. “All that we hear of him is the words of the priests, understand?” Fane nodded slowly, unsure. “I need to know this,” Ehren breathed, her voice full of urgency. “I need to know for whom I fight. You understand this?” Fane did. Once, when he was younger, he had fought for causes, for ideals, for masters. Now he fought merely for food and a place to roost.

“I understand,” he said. “What would you have me do?” Ehren smiled wryly. “You will be my student, of course,” she said, “and my teacher, at once. This is the story you will tell the monks. And at first, this will be true. But soon, you will do more. You and I will uncover the truth of Kristya’s words,” she finished. “And then?” asked Fane. “Then,” said Ehren, “you will be freed. We will all be free.”

 

~~

 

In the bamboo hall of the Chief, Silverwind looked Shura and Bora over carefully. “Guards! I demand to know why these filthy lying prisoners are still in my hall…unchained…and breathing! Yes, why are they breathing?” Vayu stepped from behind the two prisoners, and stepped forward. “If you would kindly let me explain, Chief.” Silverwind beamed. “Ah yes,” he said cheerily, “Vayu. Please enlighten us.”

Vayu’s eyes narrowed; he looked up at Silverwind over the top of his coat’s collar. “Your lands are in danger, Silverwind,” he said flatly. “I have seen the Lightsworn Army on the move…” Vayu paused. “I suspect they will settle for nothing less than genocide.” Silverwind leaned forward. “This is a very serious accusation. Has Kristya really gone so far, Vayu?” He spun the handle of the sword at the side of his throne. “I trust your word above any other’s. Do not abuse it.”

“I swear to you,” said Vayu, “that I have seen this in my visions. If you trust them, then trust me.” He indicated Shura. “Now, this emissary has come to beg assistance for the Raven Tribe.” Silverwind nodded. “I am aware,” he intoned. “Do you believe that I should send this aid?” Vayu shook his head. “It would be meaningless, Chief Silverwind, for the Raven Tribe is no more.” Shura’s face was aghast. “Y-you don’t mean…” she started.

“Yes,” continued Vayu, “their home is in ashes, Chief Silverwind, and even now they flock to you for asylum.” Silverwind leaned back, soaking in this revelation. “Mmm…yes,” he mused. “If I may,” continued Vayu, “I suspect that you may be their next target.” Silverwind nodded, but said nothing. He took hold of his sword and stood up. “How long do we have, then?” Vayu hesitated. “I do not know,” he confessed. “I have seen little within the Citadel itself.

“Very well,” said Silverwind. “Let them come. We will accept the Raven Tribe. We will armor their warriors. And soon,” he said slowly, “soon, we will teach Kristya’s forces a very painful lesson!” He raised his sword in the air. “Isn’t that right?” Shouts went up from the guards on his left and right. Shura was pretty sure she had been spared – and yet somehow, she didn’t feel any better. The hollow feeling in her stomach just grew, and grew, a cold fire, burning her alive on the inside.

 

 

 

[Phantom Roxas]

Where are the past four chapters?

[Lord Smeagle]

I was attempting to edit the post to link to the fifth chapter, something went wrong, they vanished. I had to reload them, but alas, I fear my prologue is lost forever. Might have to retype it.

 

EDIT: OK, it's all fix'd, except I have regrettably lost the prologue, so...you guys will be getting a new one!

[Lord Smeagle]

Prologue is restored. Enjoy. Chapter 6 is still in the works.

[The Final Messenger]

NightLock Approves

[Lord Smeagle]

Thanks.

[LuffyLaxer]

Great Story. I like the imagery. Keep on writing dude!

[Kaisu]

Oh wow. Apart from a few mistake I can't be bothered to find now, it's... Amazing.

[Lord Smeagle]

[spoiler=Chapter 5.5: Birds Of A Feather]

 

(Since I don't think this is long enough to qualify as a whole chapter, and because it's not related to any of the characters introduced so far, it's Chapter 5.5!)

 

From the base of the stairs, it looked as if one could climb into heaven. “The Temple of the Sun, Maenae.” Don Zaloog looked over at his partner, grinning. He held an upside-down knife in one hand; with the other, he grabbed Maenae by the hand. She smiled deviously. “There’s a king’s ransom in there, right?” Zaloog pulled her close. “Even better than that, baby. Even kings will be jealous of us!” he said. Maenae nodded. “And then we can finally retire,” decided Zaloog. “No more graverobbing for us.”

Maenae paused thoughtfully. “What’s the matter?” asked Zaloog. Maenae grinned. “That’s what we said before the last big heist!” she said at last. “I know, I know,” said Zaloog reassuringly. “But this time’s for real. We’ll have enough to go anywhere we want, and pay off anyone! No one will be able touch us, Mae,” he said. “Nobody.”

He stepped back. “You ready?” he asked, knowing, of course, that she always was. “Let’s go!” Don Zaloog sprinted forward, taking the stone steps three at a time. Iron-tipped spears shot up from between pressure plates on the steps, just barely missing his feet. Maenae dodged left and right, evading the spears with a practiced grace. She was poetry in motion, thought Zaloog.

At last, they ascended to the top of the pyramid and skidded to a halt. Surrounded by an elaborate depiction of the sun was a circular hole, the only entrance to the Temple. Before them stood a man garbed in emerald green armor and a horned helmet. A red scarf tied around his neck whipped in the wind. He stepped forward and raised his sword at Zaloog threateningly. “Do not disturb this place, thief. The treasure is not worth your lives,” said the warrior, gesturing towards Maenae.

Don Zaloog unsheathed the short sword at his belt. “You threatenin’ her? Listen, joker, do you have any idea who we are?” The warrior shook his head. “I do not,” he said sincerely. “I do not know who I am, either. Pray, tell me?” Maenae had no more patience for the fool than her partner. He reached for the whip at her side and lashed it, letting the thorny tip fall to the ground. “You are an obstacle. I suggest you remove yourself.”

The green-garbed warrior did not move. “Very well,” said Maenae, and lashed out with her whip, wrapping it around the warrior’s sword. She snapped her hand back, attempting to pull the weapon out of his hand, but the warrior took hold of the whip and pulled back harder still. Maenae staggered forward, unwilling to release her weapon. Zaloog charged towards the soldier, blades raised; he meant to go for the jugular.

The warrior focused his mind and everything seemed to slow down. The whole universe focused to four points, four letters in his mind - the word ZERA. He knew not what the word meant, only that it was a locus of miraculous power. Seizing the whip, he pulled Maenae forward. He moved past Zaloog without thought, without effort, without concern for himself. He struck Zaloog's shin with the flat of his sword, tripping him up, and in the same swift motion spun and swept Maenae's feet off the ground.

Zaloog tried to roll over and look up, only to see the warrior standing over him holding the sword mere inches from his neck. "Don't move," he said. "You're beaten."

 

----------------------------------

 

Zaloog and Maenae stood awkwardly off to the side, tied together with Maenae's own weapon, while the warrior rummaged through their supply cart hidden in the forest. Chick, their sentry, lay knocked out beside the cart, his danger senses having clearly failed him this time. Gold and jewels abounded; a year's worth of profit from the Dark Scorpion's many heists.

The warrior took as much of the gold as he could carry, as well as a fine sword with a hilt like a dragon's head - and of course, all of Zaloog's many hidden blades. As he continued to sift through the pile, he felt a pressure on one of his fingers, even through the metal. He seized the offender and removed it from the pile kicking and screaming.

The creature was a brilliant white feline, with an overlarge head and eyes, and twin-tails descending from its head that looked like lightning bolts. It wore an opulent collar and what appeared to be a tiny crown; how it stayed on the creature's head was beyond him. He carried the cat over to the busted thieves and held it up. It hissed, not seeming to like them anymore than him. "To whom," he asked, "does this animal belong?"

"We stole it from a pompous buffoon," began Maenae, "who calls himself a Lightsworn Druid. He lives in a citadel somewhere to the west" - she pointed - "and he's worth his substantial weight in gold." The warrior looked at the creature again, then placed it against his shoulder. "Good to know," he said, and walked off.

As he walked off, Zaloog turned and shouted after him. "You're not a hero, y'know." The warrior turned his head. "You're just a thief that steals from thieves. You're no better than us!" "Maybe not," said the warrior. "But you are tied up, and I am not. Consider this lesson." With that, the warrior left the speechless thieves.

After several moments of silence, Maenae spoke again. "So, how much do you figure he set us back?" she asked. "Enough," said Zaloog plainly. "Enough."

 

 

 

[Lord Smeagle]

BUMP.

 

Chapter 6 really is coming. Writer's block sucks.

[Lord Smeagle]

[spoiler=Chapter 6: Nevermore]

 

"So you're a Chief, eh? Figured most of you guys were all talk. Sure showed me, aha!" The bird - "Battlestorm," as he called himself - stretched out his legs, then crossed them again as he sat upon a rock. Elphin was incredulous. Minutes before, this bird had tried to kill him. And if he wasn't so damned HAPPY about having failed to do so, Elphin would've killed him on the spot. But Elphin now held his weapon and was more than capable of fending him off, if he dared to strike back. He let the bird keep talking - and breathing, for that matter - only out of sheer curiosity.

"You're quite the fighter, that's for sure," said the bird. "I do believe the last three birds I tried that on went down in seconds. And the disarm was fantastic, although you might want to try twisting a bit more next time." Elphin edged closer, pointing the blade at the bird's chest, the tip easily within a foot of it. "Listen," whispered Elphin, now deadly serious. "I'm not here to play games and I don't want coaching. I want to know who the hell wants to kill me. Are you working for Kristya's army?"

Battlestorm looked up at Elphin, tilting his head to the side with a frown. "I've never worked for anyone in my life. I work for me, savvy?" Elphin knew that he spoke the truth; not that it made things any better. "So what," said the chief with a voice like a knife's edge, "you're just a common bandit? You just wanted to kill me for my supplies? I carry nothing. Are you a cannibal, then?" The bird said nothing. "Answer me!"

"If you're lookin' for a motive, Chief, you won't find it here," said the bird with a grin. "I'm a Battlestorm. I live for the thrill of the hunt, the rush of combat. Warriors are my prey…and I hunt big game." He leaned back. "You've got the look of a fighter. In fact, you remind me of my teacher." "Stop flattering me," demanded Elphin. "I don't appreciate it from the likes of you."

"The likes of us?" asked the bird flippantly. "I suppose you think we're savages, then? No…we're more than that. We believe in the law of nature, sure. The strong survive." He paused; Elphin nodded, to indicate that the bird should continue. "But, we also believe that the pinnacle of strength can be achieved through many means." Elphin looked up and around at the sky before returning his gaze to Battlestorm, both incredulous and curious. "And just what the hell does that mean?" he asked.

"Take this for example," said the bird. "I am a falcon, you are a raven. I am a hunter, you are a leader. I am young, you are old. By logic, I should fly circles around you, yet you countered my blow easily. Now why is this?" he queried, as if he were asking a child. Elphin turned the knife to the side, so that the flat of the blade faced Battlestorm. "Because I have better things to do than feed the worms, cur. I'm not going to die by your blade."

"Exactly," said Battlestorm. "You must understand that we are scholars, you see, wise men - but we write our lessons in blood. We study fighting as a science and as an art." Elphin shook his head. "We? Who's we? There are more of you?" he asked. "But of course. We each wear the mask of the Battlestorm," he said, pointing to his headgear, "and so we're anonymous. My reputation cannot precede me, for the deeds of a single Battlestorm are the deeds of all. But through fighting, we seek to learn the secrets of strength such as yours."

"I don't understand what the secret is," said Elphin, annoyed. "There's nothing to learn. It's simple. Without me, my tribe will be lost. I will not allow that to happen." "A noble sentiment," said the Battlestorm. "But if they are strong, they would manage without you." Elphin frowned. "And if they are weak?" he asked. "Then," replied the Battlestorm, "they do not deserve life." Elphin struck the bird on the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. He raised the knife, standing over the fallen bird. "Monster!" roared Elphin. "You're a disgrace to our kind. I should kill you where you lie!"

"You should have," explained the bird groggily, still reeling from the blow, "when you first took the knife. You should not have trusted me. If I had not been a Battlestorm, I might have tried to kill you while you were off your guard. But I seek only fair combat. How is that monstrous?" Elphin raised his head, looking down on the bird with contempt. "You would rather fight for cheap thrills than for peace or for justice. You are a force without direction. And if you feel that the weak don't deserve life…then…"

"Then what?" asked the bird. "One opinion's as good as another. Perhaps you just believe yours more than I believe mine. With that sort of will…" he paused. Elphin waited. "…perhaps you'll find the Swallow's Nest," he finished. "What are you babbling about?" Battlestorm sat up and grinned. "I'll be happy to show you. Then you can decide whether or not you want to kill me." Elphin lowered the knife. He'd live…for now.

 

~~

 

"There he is!" shouted Kalut. He pointed down at the three birds standing on the ice floe. Blizzard looked down at the floe. "Right," he said gruffly, "going in." He tilted to the left and glided downwards towards the ice, Kalut following close behind him.

"Brother!" exclaimed Gale, rushing forward to embrace him. "You are well!" Breeze laughed softly. Lady Aurora's recipe worked like a charm. "I'm fine," said Kalut, "but what about you?" He pointed at the body of Brionac, still grasped tightly by the hunter, and back to Gale's ruffled feathers. "You look like you've been through a tornado!" "Brionac's a different sort of storm," said the hunter, "but your brother here helped settle him down. I could've never taken the dragon without his help." He lifted the body higher. "The Chief will be impressed," added Blizzard. Gale raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing the bird. "And just how do you know that?" he asked.

"Because," said the hunter, removing his black mask with his free hand. His face was sharp-edged, and he bore a scar that stretched from his "I'm Chief Strom, Armed Wing of the Boreas Tribe." Gale and Kalut gaped; Blizzard grinned. "And I already am impressed."

He turned to Blizzard. "Give me a hand with this, will you? It'll make a fine trophy, I think."

 

~~

 

Shura watched from the inside of a bamboo hut, at the base of a tree, as the soldiers drilled outside. She didn't feel like training with them. She didn't feel like much of anything. She was a shell, really, like the shell of an egg, containing nothing definable. Which came first, her or the egg? At least the egg had an excuse for being useless; it was new. She'd been on this earth for several winters and she really ought to pull herself together and DO something. But the fire inside her burned cold.

"Shura?" called a voice. She looked up to see Gust standing just inside the door. "Do you have a minute?" he asked. Of course she did. She had all the time in the world. "Sure," she said, hardly finding the energy even for that. Gust stepped in further. "Look…I don't know what Vayu told you…but I don't think he told you everything." Shura looked up sharply. "Yeah?" she asked. Gust nodded. "Look…don't blame him…" Gust started, and then lowered his voice.

"Silverwind's a madbird," he said. "Shrewd, powerful, but quite mad, I assure you. People have to take precautions. Vayu never lies, but…" he hesitated. "But what?" demanded Shura quietly, an edge in her voice. "But sometimes he doesn't tell people everything he sees. It's…it's how he gets Silverwind to keep him around." Shura's eyes narrowed. "Are you going to tell me my village is…" Gust shook his head. "I don't know the extent of it," he said. "Just…trust your eyes, is all." He turned to leave.

"Trust my eyes, huh?" she repeated. "What about you, then?" Gust turned around. "Me?" he asked, puzzled. "Yeah," Shura said. "You know what I see, Gust?" she said. "I see a coward. Actually, I see a lot of cowards, who are terrified of a tyrant with a big knife and a few trophies." Gust was speechless. "Maybe you need to stop apologizing and think about who you work for," she finished. Gust nodded hastily and left. It was just the shock, was all. She didn't mean it…right? Open rebellion…that was ridiculous.

Shura felt the fire burn a little hotter.

 

~~

 

Elphin felt the cold night air underneath his wings. They were pretty high up. He still had the knife, and he was still keeping an eye on the Battlestorm. "Now tell me, Chief" the strange bird began. "Where would you like to be, right now?" Elphin didn't have to think hard. "Home," he breathed. "Good try," said Battlestorm, turning about, "but I know better. If you wanted to be home you'd never have left. Try again." He was right. He pictured home and saw only ashes and dust.

Elphin thought harder. At Kristya's throat, maybe…but what would he do then? Kill the Lightsworns' god? Unlikely. No…he needed power. If he wanted a chance against an Archlord, even thirty of the Talon Guard wouldn't be enough - and thirty wasn't an option anymore.

"I…I want to find Simorgh," he said finally. The Battlestorm said nothing, his face inscrutable behind the masked helmet. "What?" Elphin asked. "Is that the wrong answer, too?" "Not at all," said the Battlestorm. "It's just unexpected, really. I admire your courage." Elphin's eyes shot daggers at the other bird. "Oh, right," said the Battlestorm. "No flattery. Fine, then." He stretched out his legs. "Now, focus on that alone. Do you see Simorgh?" Of course he didn't…he wasn't a seer. That was Sirocco's job. "Find him, in your mind's eye. All else is irrelevant." All else…irrelevant. Right. That was easy. "What is the purpose of this, exactly?" asked Elphin. "Just trust me," said the Battlestorm. Says the knife-wielding maniac with a death wish, thought Elphin, but he did his best anyway. He let all else fade from his mind. He saw the majestic King of Birds, perched high in a tree, surrounded by clouds against a golden sky. In his wings, Elphin saw the power that could crush stone cities. In his beak, he saw razors that could cut into the heavens. "What else?"

"There is nothing else," said the Battlestorm. "Now dive." He dropped downwards, flipping over in the air and descending headfirst towards the earth with blinding speed. Elphin beat his wings thrice, and then followed suit, following the falcon's path towards the earth. He was a blur of black wings, against a blur of midnight blue sky, and his mind was simply a blur, focused only by the King of Birds.

As he neared the earth, the midnight blue flashed into brilliant orange, and back. He felt the cold air leave him. It flashed again, and again. Elphin couldn't see, but he didn't dare pull out of the dive. Another brilliant flash, and he found himself hurtling through an orange abyss. He narrowly dodged rocks, or black clouds, he couldn't see well enough to know which, and tried to right himself, when it occurred to him that he couldn't tell which way was up. He looked around, dodging more nondescript black shapes, and glimpsed a portal through which he saw grass. He beat his wings furiously, struggling against an invisible force to enter the portal.

He collapsed on the grassy meadow below, and looked up. It was midday. He saw no impossibly tall trees, nor lordly birds. So…where had the Swallow's Nest taken him? He felt as though he were being watched…

 

~~

 

"…There stood the proud Chief, holding the fearsome dragon by the neck, as it beat its wings with thunder. Then came Gale Wyrmslayer, like a bolt from the heavens, and tore the dragon's wings asunder!" A performer, holding a crude ice sculpture of a dragon's head and wings, fell over onto the stage, and the sculpture shattered. The audience laughed and clapped; the performers bowed.

Blizzard leaned over. "Good show, huh?" he said "You sure showed that dragon." Gale grinned sheepishly but said nothing. The dragon's body was hanging up on the back wall of the icy hall, but he still couldn't believe it. He wasn't expecting to be a hero. Breeze answered for him. "He did!" she said, suddenly hugging Gale around the neck, much to his surprise. "And it was even better in person!"

"To order!" proclaimed Chief Strom, from upon his icy throne. Everyone fell silent. "Brionac was a menace to our village and indeed, all villages. He slew many of our fine young birds," he said, in somber tone. He paused. "But today, he has been repaid in kind, by the young hero of the Raven Tribe." Still another pause; Gale blushed. "Tonight, we feast in honor of Gale Wyrmslayer!"

Dinner was served; mostly fish, with the finest spices procured from the edges of the continent to the west. No expense would be spared for the destruction of one of the three Spears of the Ice Barrier, no celebration too great. And of course, there was also the wonderful drink. Gale wasn't familiar with it, but it was even more warming than Breeze's medicine, and it made him even sleepier. There was singing and dancing involved, but Gale and Kalut didn't remember much of the feasting. Sleep came quickly and without warning, but that didn't mean it wasn't welcome.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six!

[Brinolovania]

 

"Because," said the hunter, removing his black mask with his free hand. His face was sharp-edged, and he bore a scar that stretched from his "I'm Chief Strom, Armed Wing of the Boreas Tribe." Gale and Kalut gaped; Blizzard grinned. "And I already am impressed."

He turned to Blizzard. "Give me a hand with this, will you? It'll make a fine trophy, I think."

 

 

Ahem.

[Lord Smeagle]

Ahem.

 

(The thread in my sig is supposed to be active. If you could post comments there, that'd be great.)