I am super sorry this is late but we had some computer problems and didnt have it saved elsewhere x.x
But here we go! Should pick up pace of posting story now!
Finding help
Eris felt as if she had been grazing the winds for days. Her early enthusiasm had not left her, but her isolation among the clouds allowed for her mind to wander into contemplative territories. Banners far below her being hung in preparation for the festival. Early celebrations that oozed into the week, the soft pops of confetti occasionally ringing skyward. Eris longed to be down with her clan to celebrate alongside them. But fate ushered her from such things, and truthfully, her heavy-heartedness seemed somewhat shallow in comparison to the grand undertaking bestowed upon her very destiny.
She needed a plan. Sornieth remained a large, mysterious labyrinth of wonder far beyond even the bravest and most well traveled. Her claws tugged out the rather crumpled, hastily scrawled-upon parchment and eyed it. Her body sank from the harsher winds to the softer puffs, her wings tugged back only just with the opposing force. Her eyes adjusted, still somewhat narrowed to keep the unforgiving gusts from rendering her unable to see. She looked as if she sneered at her own paperwork, disapproving.
The list seemed agonisingly small. There was no great direction, no simple ‘A to B’ solution. With her heavy thoughts came the sinking of her body, until her feet were plodding against the great expanse of field. Eris offered the warm air a hefty sigh.
“By the Gods,” She twiddled the note between her clawtips. “There is very much to do.”
Eris felt rather stuck. Though the warm air grazed her with an ethereal comfort, she wrinkled her nose amidst the silence. Her stubborn resolution willed her not to slow down. The worry that her slowing pace would turn into a meandering halt bothered her far greater than her impasse at getting on with her journey.
In the midst of her lament, she found herself turning up her snout at the winds. She sniffed, for a moment, catching the gentle scent of spices and smoldering wood. Eris began to drift nearby. Her spiralling body took to the skies in order to flutter closer, following the scent with a curious sniff. As she drew closer, Eris found herself eyeing the posts and tents of another clan. She cast her memory back to her home, and though the flashes of homesickness addled her, she could only begin to imagine how proud they would be of her efforts. Eris found a sense of confidence, striding into the clan’s camp with a polite grin, nodding her head as she passed the gaze of curious, slightly bemused dragons.
“Excuse me,” A dragon stood before her. A large, towering Imperial donning a sagging hood half obscuring his face in thick shadow. “I am Excalibur, the Patriarch of this clan. I do not know your face, why have you come?”
“I,” Eris began, craning her neck up to look at the imposing Imperial. “Am Eris. My home is far, far away, and I have come on a journey of great importance.”
“Is that so?” Excalibur began to gaze down at her. A slow, deliberate look of disbelief. “Are you lost, Eris?”
“No!” Eris protested, despite wanting nothing more than to admit she most certainly was. “I’ve come in search of help. Please, if you’ll allow me just a mere moment of your time, I will tell you everything.”
With a suspicious glance, Excalibur found himself allowing her into the camp. The dragons began to crawl into a cluster, curious and eager to hear her story. Eris coiled her sinewy body up, feeling the eyes of the clan upon her, almost smothering. Her claws found the Windsinger’s gift, and she cradled it in her palms.
“This,” Eris breathed. Her eyes, once wide and bold, softened with a love and wonder that had grasped Excalibur’s own curiosity. “This was given to me. Entrusted. It’s from the Windsinger, himself! My journey is long, but simple. I need help.”
Excalibur did not ask to see the parchment. He leaned himself closer towards the fabled message, basked in its ancient literature and felt his lip give the shadow of a curled frown, eyes narrowing.
“What is your plea, Eris?” He asked.
“I need to find someone who can translate this,” Eris returned. She had found herself, again. Her plan visualised inside of her mind. Her body rippled with shivers, pupils wide and gaze full of a sincere honesty, not once breaking from Excalibur’s.
“Such a feat,” Excalibur paused his utterance to stand himself. “Can it be done, do you think?”
“Yes.”
Eris stood alongside Excalibur. She clutched the parchment and inhaled, teeth gritted and spirit aflame.
“I do think so,” She swallowed. “There are so many dragons in this world. And even if I have to fly all the way to the stars and back, I will do it.”
The dragons looked to each other with a hushed awe. A particular dragon stood, eyeing Eris.
“I believe her,” He nodded his head. A large Guardian loomed among the resting cluster of dragons. Excalibur and Eris both peered over to the source of the new voice.
“Truly, Lucrest?” Excalibur half muttered. Lucrest turned his snout to the air and huffed a proud breath.
“I’ve seen him,” Lucrest scoffed. “The Windsinger. If the girl says he’s left a note for her to figure out, I believe we should help.”
He softened his gaze in his glance to Eris. She, in turn, offered him a relieved grin.
The dragons around the clan began to chatter with heated exhilaration to one another. Some fled the confines of the clan to spread the colossal event to others. With the morning sun came the burst of wings upon the skies to tell of Eris’s journey. Animated claws gesturing as other dragons looked on with mouths open in surprise, eyes wide and disbelieving.
“She has a note from the Windsinger, himself!”
“She’s seen him, right up in the sky!”
“It might be a warning!”
“It could be the key in speaking with the deities!”
The stories shifted with each dragon it passed. It manifested into rumours of legendary status, of Eris donning golden silks made from the Lightweaver’s own tears, and a mighty beast as her companion. And though the stories seemed to waver on reality and fiction, the one common theme shared among them all was that whatever this note was, it was huge and pivotal.
Eris readied herself for another flight. Lucrest watched her prepare with his gaze half focused. He paused to watch the sky, checking for any signs of rain or poor weather. Eris breathed out a sigh, hauling the knapsack onto her body and securing it. She tucked the precious note away into one of its tight pockets and looked back to Lucrest with a kind smile.
“Thank you for letting me stay,” Eris spoke, voice as soft as the morning wind that carried her words away. Lucrest chuckled.
“Not a problem at all. If this note turns out to be a connection to the Windsinger, tell him that I’ve a few questions I want answered, would you?”
“I will,” Eris half laughed. But the thought began to linger. Perhaps this note truly was the gateway in which to speak with the Windsinger. The very idea set her wings trembling. She wobbled, struggling to regain her confident footing, her wings pushing the air too sidewards and subsequently knocking her onto her side. Lucrest began to hide his laugh at watching such a spectacle, and Eris hid her face in her hands, cursing herself for her lack of time-reversing powers.
After her prior gaffe, she was once again airborne. She watched dragons pass her by, ducking and raising herself to avoid them, pulling a slight face at the increased numbers in the skies. Eris put it down to the festival’s general allure, but watching the dragons begin to stop upon approaching her had caused her to float still, questioning.
“Are you-?” A dragon gasped, circling Eris with wild ardour.
“My name is Eris,” Eris returned, bewildered. “I’m sorry if you were looking for someone else-”
“No!” The dragon exclaimed with a squeal. “It’s really you! You’re the Windsinger’s Messenger!”
“P-Pardon?” Eris blurted out. The dragon laughed with an overwhelmed sense of joy, wings flapping erratically in a bid to stave off the wind from dragging them from Eris.
“Most of Sornieth know of you! The light green spiral. Though you’re not with your pet Roc!” The dragon chuckled. “Rumour, obviously. Unless you’ve left it at home?”
“M-My-? Erm, no,” Eris blinked. “The only pet I’ve left is a small dog. No giant birds.”
“Yes, yes,” The dragon nodded, though slightly crestfallen. “But! You are indeed the Windsinger’s Messenger, no? You carry about that parchment! Wow, words from the deity, himself! Can I have a look?”
Eris did not want to risk pulling it out in the wind, but the longing, persistent look the stranger was giving her presented her with little other choice. She tugged the paper out of her knapsack and pinched it between her clawtips. Just enough for the dragon to see. The wind seemed, then, to slow. It lowered them both, only just. The parchment no longer twitched in the breeze. The air fell silent, eerily so. The dragon looked around before uttering a shocked mumble.
“You...” They swallowed. “You’re really...it’s real.”
It seemed to be enough for the dragon. Eris watched the dragon’s eyes water in revered awe. They shook their head and coughed, willing away the overwhelmed tears. Eris tucked the note back inside of her pocket, and felt the wind begin to lift them once more. The dragon remained on the ground, watching Eris lift. She caught the sun on her medallions, her silks shimmering like fine sand suspended in air and clung to her winding body. For a moment, she seemed otherworldly. The dragon rose enough to find Eris’s gaze.
“I have to tell people,” The dragon mumbled.
“Wait!” Erin angled her head down, causing the dragon to jump. “Please! Let everybody know of my journey! I implore that you tell them I am looking for someone to help translate the ancient text on the note! Let those words reach all of Sornieth. Tell them to seek ‘Eris’, please let them find me!”
All at once the dragon bounded onto their feet, wings flapping to catch the winds. They were ecstatic to be of help, and Eris thanked them as the dragon whisked themselves away. Eris found herself gliding through the air. She lifted herself high into the winds, feeling them cold and coil around her. For mere seconds, she cried out in vibrant wonder.
She was the Windsinger’s Messenger!
The title should not have lifted her so much. But it warmed her body to feel as if she had been visited by the Flamecaller. Her heart sang melodies akin to songbirds in the peak of spring, her body creating looping, tight ringlets as she soared.
Eris’s name started to stretch from the Windswept Plateau to Dragonhome and the Viridian Labyrinth. It crossed seas to The Southern Icefield and the Sunbeam Ruins. Dragons of all flights were swarming to discuss the tale. They looked skyward, hoping to catch a rare glimpse of Eris in her travels.
Eris did not even know the extent to which her very story had carried. But high above in the sky, with little more than her spirited heart and the Windsinger’s message, she found it was enough to keep her on her journey.
New story charaters:
Excalibur
Lucrest
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