Tempest-Tossed

[Kala Leukos]

.

► Show Spoiler

27th of Searing, Year 125 Age of Steel

like the leaf clings to the tree,
oh, my darling, cling to me.
for we are creatures of the wind,
and wild is the wind.

so wild is the wind.

w i l d is the wind.

Something was wrong.

She knew it before her meditations were disturbed. Blue eyes opened to the small stateroom. Hands pushed down against the fine-grained planks varnished to a shine. She stood on her own two feet, remembering she had feet, in fact.

The stars in her eyes were but a sparkle of curiosity and alarm now.

Kala stumbled as Blue Star pitched and yawed in the wind.

She reached for the door latch, pulled it open only to find Asallon staring at her, mouth open in surprise, eyes wide in mounting fear. A wave of calm emanated from her, resonating along her bonds—to him, to her twin, to the other Silver Wings aboard the airship that belonged to House Leukos, but was more often used to transport commercial goods to and from Kalzasi for the good of the people of Starfall.

"A summer squall come down from Terra Nimbus, the captain says. We need you on deck..."

She joined them.

"Get below deck," she shouted over the storm winds when she saw their extent. "You and Aito—keep the crew safe!"

Though he seemed torn, he nodded and disappeared.

At the prow of the deck, she joined her twin, joined Ceran and Indric, who flanked him. Her brother looked like a madman, bellowing into the teeth of the storm. But Wind was his Element, and he wove weaves of it around the ship, making it move with the violent are rather than be buffeted and bashed by it.

Ceran was pouring himself into the wards that maintained the ship's structure.

Indric might have opened a portal through which the ship could escape something like a dragon or an enemy airship, but she knew there was too much chaos about to safely do so. Instead, he called upon the spirits of the Wind, asking them to keep Blue Star safe as it weathered the storm.

Kala could hear the prayers of the crew. They prayed to her. Even the Silver Wings prayed to her, who knew her before she went looking for Garel of Atoria and found also Mother Naori Herself.

She opened herself to the elements, thinking to aid Kaus with what power she owned. His was Air, and hers was Fire; this was not her element, but she was not helpless. The other Avialae sweat even as they were pelted by rain, by hail. Something harder, larger, slammed into the side of the airship. It shuddered. Somehow, she heard the screams of the crew over the wind. Her earth sense told her it was eberrite, and it was not alone. Rocky detritus from the floating islands had been carried so many miles by the powerful winds and now they were a thousand weapons.

Kaus, Ceran, and Indric were powerful mages, but this was a particularly violent expression of Nature and they needed help.

Kala began to release what she held back most of the time. Her divine nimbus poured forth, she began to see their runic magics as part of a greater whole. Somehow, she floated above the deck without flying off of it. She scrived pictographs of Fire in the air around the airship, until a spherical bubble surrounded them, lines of power that pulled from Ceran's wards and Kaus' weaves. Indric's familiars recognized something in her and responded.

*~*~*

It was hours later when they spotted the mining outpost. Blown off course, battered and bruised, they were unable to fly at full speed.

The skies had cleared in the interim, but it looked from on high as though the outpost had taken some damage too.

The captain took them down, hoping, perhaps, that they could all help each other.

.

[Bazyl]

27th of Searing, Year 125 Age of Steel

He blinked once, then twice, slowly adjusting his eyes to the soft glow of the Moonstone runes and the layers of wards surrounding the training hall. Kenia sat cross-legged on the cushions a short distance away, shielded behind wards that shimmered faintly.

“A fraction of a second. It isn’t much, but it’s still progress.” She commented, lifting a mug and taking a slow sip of tea. Ever since Bazyl had been initiated by his best friend, he’d been testing the limits of his newfound powers with the help of his siblings.

A curious experiment, indeed. They’d discovered that the “other side,” as his friend called it, was like a mirror of this world. Different from the rune of Traversion, traversing as a warlock didn’t simply mean stepping across space, instead, the warlock still needed to physically move from point A to point B, but on that mirrored plane. So, bypassing a locked door here could meant facing a derelict wall there or something else, invisible to anyone watching on this side.

“Progress is progress,” Bazyl replied, sinking down onto the cushions beside his sister. The soft, woven fabric of the pillows muffled the snap of his boots on the marble floor. “Even though I’m just going back and forth along a straight line.” He reached for the slender pipe resting on the ashtray between them, lighting it and drawing in the familiar burn of his family’s signature blend. The smoke curled upward in luminescent wisps that caught the glow of the wards. “I think we need to test it out at a different location…..” he continued

“Because of the controlled environment.” She finished his sentence, setting her mug on a small table. Her eyes reflected the subtle play of magical light dancing across the hall’s vaulted ceiling.

Bazyl exhaled a plume of smoke and nodded, embers flickering at the pipe’s bowl. “Exactly. The training hall is stable, familiar the other side also seemed to mirror it in a way. The same place like last time. But using it on the field, I won’t know what I’ll come face to face with.” He ground the pipe’s stem gently against the ashtray rim.

“We could try it one more…..” he began, but before he could finish, a loud, insistent knocking rattled the reinforced oak door. The entire chamber hummed as though sensing an imminent disturbance.

A golem stumbled into the room, its metal joints creaking with every step. Its eyes glowed crimson as it spoke in a hollow, resonant voice, “Kenia, we need your help outside. It’s Terra Nimbus. She isn’t in a good mood.” Rhys’ voiced echoed from the golem.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Outside, the wind hammered like a battering ram against the stony facade. The Aetheria hovered silently in its berth: a great silver leviathan suspended on threads of mana, just large enough for its keel to clear the cave floor. Beyond the mouth of the cavern, the temporary outpost lay in disarray. Tents snapping like sailcloth in the gale, golems staggering under crates, and workers shouting instructions into the teeth of the storm.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The sky beyond the cave mouth had cleared. Ragged clouds drifting eastward, revealing slivers of late afternoon sunlight. Mist clung to the jagged peaks of the Astralar Mountains, curling like ghostly serpents around spines of Ebberite and granite.

“Never seen her this mad,” Bazyl muttered, arms folded as he surveyed the battered remains of the temporary outpost. Wooden crates were splintered, a canvas tarp lay shredded in the mud, and small steam vents hissed where the storm’s hail had punctured the ground. Piles of broken wagons and twisted golem parts lay strewn across the frozen dirt.

Rhys knelt beside a pair of golems, checking the integrity of their cores. He finally straightened, eyes narrowing. “We’re still clearing rubble here….” He paused, cutting himself off as a looming silhouette crested the ridge. “Another airship?” he said, tone wary.

Bazyl followed his gaze and shrugged, though his eyes remained fixed on the approaching airship. “Likely another House that’s affiliated with House Briathos courier or another research vessel blown off course. They’d be the only ones who knew of our general location in these ranges. But still….”

Rhys stood, turning swiftly and instructing the golems to arm themselves and form a perimeter at the cave entrance.

Kenia, emerging from the cave followed by her Aidolon, “Should we hail them?” she asked, voice tight with concern.

Bazyl shook his head. “We’ll wait. For now.” He ordered.

[Kala Leukos]

.

Though Kalzasi rarely stretched forth its active influence over the Astralar range—at least this far out—Blue Star flew under their banner, as well as the seven-pointed blue star on a field of argent. House Leukos was not well known, but those who knew of them knew they were sword to Great House Briathos.

That banner flew a bit ragged after their recent encounter with a vicious bit of Nature.

Their descent was slow, and soon they were hovering nearby. A much greater airship was protected in its berth, but they were not going to attempt to dock without permission. A trio of Avialae launched themselves from the deck and flew the intervening distance, landing to parley with whomever emerged.

Kala remained on deck, observing. Even from that vantage, she could semble. One might almost imagine the storm was Vicis' breath, pushing them away from their course to find something more interesting. Her home, Starfall, hid much more than the humble fortress and its attendant village. And this place...

Before the entrance, the Avialae stood. The shortest among them had pride of place, flanked by the others. All three were quite young—in their early twenties—and while they looked weary from all they had done to protect the ship, they retained the resilience of youth.

"Hail!" he called, his voice booming fit for a parade ground. That there was no acknowledgement yet of their presence was strange, perhaps. Kaus hoped that the storm hadn't harmed anyone inside. They were hoping to get some help with repairs, at least enough to ensure they got safely to Kalzasi, but they could also provide aid if necessary. While not a professional, Kala had trained as a surgeon at Tranquil Gardens and knew her way around the healing aspects of necromancy.

"Oh, Karlus," she said with compassion when a sailor was brought to her, bleeding from a gash over his forehead. She sat him down right there to tend to him, urging the one who brought him to fetch her kit from her room.

Through the bonds between them, she could feel the weary anticipation of the boys awaiting acknowledgement from within the compound. Thankfully, she could trust her twin with a bit of diplomacy.

.

[Bazyl]

As the airship flew closer, Rhys nudged at Bazyl, pointing at the banner. “Who else would be taking a joyride in these mountains unless they’re a Kalzaseran?” he commented.

“It’s easy to impersonate anyone. Right?” Kenia argued while glancing at Bazyl. It was one of the tactics that House Aerendyl often employed before they settled down in Kalzasi.

The Aerendyls watched as three Aviale flew from the deck into the cave’s entrance.

“It couldn’t be your pals from the Imperium,” Bazyl said to Rhys as he took the pipe from Kenia and lit it. One of the Aviale shouted, announcing their presence. As if on cue, Bazyl walked slowly toward the trio, with both hands behind his back as though taking a casual stroll. He stopped a few paces from the visitors.

He took the pipe out of his mouth and held it in his left hand, while his right hand disappeared into the folds of the traditional kimono he wore, fingers resting near the sash at his stomach.

“The Jewel of the North is a couple of miles that way.” He pointed with the pipe, its embers pulsing gently. His tone was lighthearted, almost conversational. “There’s no jewels here or new plants for Marda to research on.” He still remembered meeting the head of House Athvian many arcs ago, when she was just a young gal and her husband was still among the living.

Bazyl paused and took a long, thoughtful puff from the pipe. Then, without shifting his posture or raising his voice, he unrestrained the aura that simmered beneath his calm expression. A legacy of his Nefim blood. The moment it was released, it thickened the air around him like a slow, invisible tide. The temperature didn’t change, but the feeling in the cave did. Something primal stirred in the nerves, an instinctive recognition that danger now stood within striking distance. Both Kenia and Rhys flinched slightly even though they should be used to Bazyl’s aura. A flicker of tension in the spine, a sharpening of awareness, the ghost of fight-or-flight whispering at the edge of their minds.

And yet, Bazyl’s tone remained unchanged as he exhaled the smoke in a lazy curl. “Or are you here on a different business?” he asked nonchalantly.

[Kala Leukos]

.

The crew of Blue Star might have missed the installation. Thankfully, they had a sharp-eyed Goddess on board whose facility with Semblance had reached great heights even before Mother Naori planted the seed of divinity in her breast. But her twin stood there before the cave entrance, a weary but indomitable smile on his face. He waited patiently for the Siltori to meet them, not wanting to cross a threshold without permission.

If the greeting was odd, he went with it anyway.

"We were blown off course, but more than a few miles, I think." There was a lilt of humor in his voice, and some good-natured confusion. "Lady Ahtivin did not send us, though we can certainly get word to her if you wish."

Something shifted in the silver elf. Not the diplomat his sister was, Kaus couldn't put his finger on it. Something about the man suddenly read as threatening. Ceran and Indric both straightened backs, but were too well trained to rest hands on their weapons based on a feeling. Their eyes narrowed, though, focusing on the elf, wondering if they would have to protect Kaus from him.

But Kaus merely cocked his head curiously. His bond to Kala was stronger than the Silver Wings', and, in any case, their race had been built to withstand with mind-altering effects of the legendary Hellmaw.

"Blue Star flies out of Starfall farther into the Astralars. En route to Kalzasi, we were overtaken by a surprise squall from Terra Nimbus and withstood some damage. The pilot is fairly sure where we are, but we saw signs of settlement here and it was our hope to trade for some parts, make our repairs, and continue on our way. If this is unwelcome, we can make do with what we have, but this is still Kalzasern territory. We had hoped aid asked for in good faith and paid for in gold, goods, or services rendered would not run amiss."

Back aboard the airship in question, someone brought Kala the worn satchel that carried all her healing tools and supplies. It was the same one she had carried around with her at Tranquil Gardens; at first, they hadn't allowed her into the hospital's supplies, thinking she was just another highborn young woman staving off boredom with charity work. Now they called her in for cases of vampirism, which was strange even to her.

"Ah, thank you. All right. The wound is clean, but I'm going to apply another solution that will sting a bit, but will prevent infection. And then you are in luck: I have something that will dull the pain so I can make small, even stitches without causing you undue distress, and since I have sinew thread, once it heals, there oughtn't to be a scar at all."

She laughed lightly at his response. "Well, your husband can thank me later."

.

[Bazyl]

Now it was Bazyl’s turn to be curious about their new visitors, particularly the spokesperson of the trio. While the other two reacted exactly as he had predicted once his aura was unrestrained, tense postures, subtle shifts, that flicker of instinctive caution, the third stood unaffected, as if the oppressive weight pressing into the air simply did not exist. Either he possessed a strong mental resistance... or he was a Mender.

That was another concern. Bazyl wouldn’t mind going toe-to-toe with the Cult right then and there, if they truly were part of the Cult of Mending. Still, it would complicate things. He said nothing at first, just listened, taking occasional puffs from his pipe. A curl of smoke drifted past his face as he muttered to himself, half-audible to those with sharp ears: “Ah yes, she’s Lady Athvian now.”

Then louder, addressing the trio again, he added, “And we wouldn’t be having this conversation if you’d said Marda sent you. She’d never send someone here.” He chuckled softly, but the mirth didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He paused at the mention of The Blue Star and glanced toward Rhys. Rhys shrugged, then mouthed maybe, clearly referring to the same airship they had spotted arcs ago, when they first settled in Kalzasi.

Bazyl stepped forward, his feet almost soundless on the cave floor. “The Blue Star, you said?” He stopped just as he entered striking distance of the weapons the two Aviale carried, close enough to be considered a challenge, or a courtesy. “And you look awfully familiar,” he added, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What House are you affiliated with?”

His gaze lingered, sharp and searching, studying the Aviale’s features in silence for a few moments. Then, he took another puff from his pipe, exhaled slowly, and gave a single, thoughtful nod. The tension that had subtly filled the cave lifted as he consciously repressed the Nefim-born aura.

“We might have some parts,” he said, glancing toward The Blue Star. “If you’re willing to trade.”

He withdrew his right hand from the folds of his kimono and opened his arms in a broad, welcoming gesture. “Please, you can dock The Blue Star within the cave. We wouldn’t want to attract more flying critters. Curious bastards, they are.”

Pipe between his lips again, Bazyl turned and strolled back toward his siblings.

“Oh,” he added without looking back, “and regarding House Athvian, if anyone aboard The Blue Star happened to train at the Tranquil Gardens, they’d be helpful in tending to our wounded.”

[Kala Leukos]

.

While the Siltori's response was strange, Kaus was too polite to comment on it. Marda Ahtivin was elderly now, sustained in equal measures by her faith in Ioniri and her will to keep her house in good standing until a grandchild was mature enough to take the reins out of her gnarled hands. This was not new, and so this must be a rather older elf than he seemed. Asallon, who remained aboard the ship was older than them by several years, but he was still quite young by Siltori standards. And as for what Lady Marda would or would not do, Kaus would defer to his sister on the matter. She was the one bonded to the woman, not Kaus.

He smiled, making headway it seemed. As the faint sense of danger diminished, the Silver Wings didn't relax. Kaus, though, remained calm.

"Blue Star belongs to my mother, Lady Akshara of House Leukos. The ship is the main source of contact between our remote home of Starfall and Kalzasi. I am Kaus. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He bowed formally, hoping the respect would be reciprocated. "We would, of course, prefer to trade than to take handouts, and my sister is a trained healer."

His pale blue eyes went far away for a moment. It was easier to think a few thoughts toward her than to fly back.

Kaus smiled again.

"She is informing the captain that she has permission to dock. Thank you, master elf." That seemed to be the safest thing to call the man until he introduced himself.

It was less than a minute before the airship began to hove to, aiming its prow toward the cave entrance, the which seemed capable of handling much larger ships than theirs. Aboard the ship, Kala was washing her hands properly when Asallon knocked on the door and, feeling her permission via their bond, entered.

"Kaus says our host is Siltori and perhaps somewhat reticent around guests," she began.

He nodded. Bonded to Kaus, he could sense some of what had been going on from afar, but his bond was not so strong as Kala's. The twins had been core-bonded in the womb. That was rare from what he understood of Avialae.

"I will be ready to debark when you do," he promised. "I wasn't much help in the storm. Perhaps I can be more so in the cave."

"We all did what we could, Asallon. And we all do what we can in any situation. Your contributions are always valued, and we would love you even you hadn't been able to help at all."

"My lady," he said, bowing to hide a faint blush that always looks strange on his complexion.

"He might know Marda..." Her eyes erred toward Kalzasi as if they were the needles of a compass pointing north. They were too far from Kalzasi for her to truly feel the woman through their light bond; as a goddess, she had other means, but she didn't think they needed to bother her just now. "Anyway, I'll be bringing my satchel. If you have anything in yours that might be used medicinally, it may be of some use today as well."

.