music
Saphyira’s peacock-colored feathers fluttered in the ever constant breeze of the Reedcleft Ascent, her wings lazily tracing the curling updrafts as she slowly spiraled down to a nearby sunning platform made from the plentiful bamboo of the land. As she settled gracefully down, her eyes flickered upwards to see what was now blotting out the sun that she had expected to warm herself with.
Enormous would only begin to describe the mighty and writhing dragon that swirled and twisted down from the highest reaches of the clouds, his shadowy, sinuous length taking half a minute to streak past the delicate Skydancer.
Saphyira reopened her earslits once he had passed, the great and furious wind he brought along with him ruffling her feathers violently. A few sailed away as she peered down from where she lounged to watch the exchange between the massive Imperial and the Clan Matriarch, Diantha. The Fae’s lavender wings flickered in the midday sun, and she perched upon her favorite outcropping of quartz, a gift from the Dragonhome, courtesy of Skysinger.
It stretched about two meters into the air, allowing her to view the reaches of her territory, and give daily directions or guidance if necessary. Important announcements and clan meetings were held here in front of the quartz throne.
Saphyira watched in silence as the poweful Imperial bowed his head, and angled it so it was eye level with the tiny Fae. If Zeltan so much as sneezed, he’d blow Diantha all the way to the Cloudsong.
Saphyira’s lips curled upwards into a smirk at the idea.
Apollo, her father, and the Matriarch’s consort, sat calmly beside the Fae. The Prince, her half brother Jento, stood on the other side of their father, looking at Zeltan with awe. A prince by blood, and by nature as well, even if Siyaki, a mirror, and Diantha’s firstborn, should have been the hier, she declined at sexual maturity.
Jento caught Saphyira’s eye and blinked, a mutual understanding between them to stay quiet as the top council members spoke about what they had taken weeks to prepare.
There was another rush of wind, and the sweet, dewy smell of clouds, the only scent truly unique to the Wind Clan territories.
A streak of white and sky blue spun past, as Skysinger flew down to lay beside Zeltan. The cloud-crackled Imperial hummed softly as Diantha began to speak in her usual drone, matching the pitch Skysinger sung.
The council, save for Sunfire, had arrived. The ice scaled Matriarch flared and fanned her frills as she spoke, her silken magenta robes fluttering in the still stirring wind.
“You have been gathered to be debriefed on our journey. We have prepared for half a moon for this very day.” Her tail curled and uncurled a few times, before the tip gently wrapped around Apollo’s shoulder.
“Zeltan, my Warrior King, you are in fine condition to travel, correct?”
The shadow scaled Imperial’s lightning bright eyes sparked and he shook out his mane.
“Of course, I am always ready for whatever the winds bring, my Liege.” His deep, thundering voice shook the earth slightly. Skysinger changed her humming pitch to match his last word. Diantha turned to her, imitating the note as well.
“And my faithful and kind Songstress, have you prepared the gifts and traveling songs?”
“I have done so, Mistress. The sky will be as Windsinger wishes it: full of beautiful tales sung of his children. The gifts are all packed away in our kite-baskets. They will be most pleasing.” The gorgeous Imperial flicked her whiskers, and resumed humming her last spoken pitch.
Apollo gazed up at his Matriarch. She was also the love of his life, though this was kept mostly between them and the council.
“Apollo, my dear consort, you have sworn to guide my steps and words as we meet our fellow flights, correct?”
“Without fail, I swear, Milady.” He spoke softly, folding his wing closer to her curled tail tip around his shoulder.
“Jento, my prince, you have the duties of Patriarch when I and my party have left, do you understand your responsibility?”
“I do, Mother.”
“Do not let the temptation of adventure sweep your wings from your clan. Stay with them, a sturdy and guiding wind.”
“I shall, Mother.” The dusky winged Skydanced nodded, his snow-white skin shimmering in the bright sunlight.
“And now we wait for Cloudweaver to arrive with the flight route Teorah has divined for us.” Diantha’s voice dwindled into a puff-like sigh, and she lay down on her perch, feet tucked beneath her.
Saphyira let out a small hiss of surprise as Lutio, her to-be mate, settled beside her, giving her crest feathers a preen.
“Big crowd. Two Imperials, huh?” He murmured, knowing to keep his voice low while within range of a public council meeting. “Really think they’ll need that much power for a alliance journey? Or is it intimidation?”
“Three, if Stormdancer shows up.” Saphyira whispered back, plucking away some stray leaves from his crystal studded wings with her beak. She always liked the clicking bell like noises they made when he folded and unfolded them.
“Another Imp? Why would they need three?” He kept up his preening.
“Storm is the most skilled of gale-gliders. She can fly through any kind of storm, no matter how dangerous or violent. Squallcharger’s pretty good too. That’s Skysinger’s son.”
“They’re crossing the Sea of a Thousand Currents?” Lutio sounded alarmed. “But the typhoons this time of year always rip and tear apart the edges of our territory.”
“They’re going to the Everbloom Gardens. Our birthclan has always had good relations with Diantha's.”
“They’re going to see Lady Grovemaker?” The creamy coated Skydancer almost cried out, before Saphyira silenced him with a snap to his jaw.
“Yes. And meet Zeltan’s old clan leader as well. Her name is Fatespeaker. She’s a mighty guardian like Grovemaker.”
“How do you know all of this, Softwing?” Lutio ruffled his crown feathers and gently nuzzled under her chin.
“Because I’m smart, and I listen. With the wind in the right direction, you can hear everything you’d ever want to.” She hissed quietly, her tail curling around his.
“We have many from Grovemaker’s clan. Are any of them coming?”
“No, Diantha’s decided to bring The Council, save Sunfire, and Cloudweaver for navigation. You’re right, though. The clan’s in a tizzy about Grovemaker. Many are excited to get news from her.”
“And what of Fatespeaker?”
“So far, Zeltan’s the only from her clan, but rumor has it that he’s going to try and prove himself somehow.”
“Hmmm….not too much to prove with all that armor and the title “Warrior King.”
“We’ll see.” Saphyira whuffed, and laid her head down, folding her paws under her chin.
—-