The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 21: Hushed Voices and Silenced Ones

Peace. Calm. Tranquillity.

Tia tried to lose her emotions in the gentleness of the Wind. The nature's force swirled around her in a neat circle, ruffling her fringe and making her cloak hem flap. She kept her eyes closed, concentrating on keeping the energy flow smooth, focusing it at the point where the base of the staff made contact with the ground. The Wind grew stronger but was still concentrated along a neat path around her body.

She breathed in the crisp air, feeling the familiar power flow through her body. Her mind was clear and her body at perfect balance as one's should be when channelling the Wind.

She was one with the Wind. The flowing particles harmonised, tantalising in their gorgeous tones, overlapping each other like the gentle ocean waves. They sang to her about the skies, the weather, and the living nature. Each breath stolen away by the passing Wind was relayed to her ears.

She could feel the love of the sweet Wind, so accepting and accommodating. How could anyone use this mellow force to kill?

What Caster in their right mind would use such an exquisite phenomenon for their own gain and for bloodshed?

Windcasters swore alliance to nature when they accepted their Calling. They were the mediators for balance, not to use it for personal gains. The liaison must have been broken beyond remedy when they so terribly abused their powers in the last Great War. And yet the same Windcasters were still communicating and utilising the Wind.

How could Master Anu do that? Tia ruminated, frowning. Does the allegiance to the Wind mean nothing to him? How could he even call himself a Caster – he is even worse than mages, at least mages do not kill with their blessed abilities!

She couldn't gauge what had gone on in the Master's head. He was one of the greatest – if not the greatest – Windcaster in all the land. His words held more influence than those from any other. How could he have agreed to fight in the war? War was human affair. The Wind had never and should never have been involved in any human conflict.

If Gwent had been on the brink of invading the whole of Dernexes, they must have a significant-sized army. All those men killed by the Wind. Blood in the Wind. Artificial death forced by nature.

It was an atrocious act.

"Tia!" came a muffled, faraway voice. Tia opened her eyes, her thought process interrupted.

In front of her, a tornado at least twenty metres high was spinning at an incredible rate. Dust and leaves were swept up and sucked into the swirling mass. Her hair whipped across her face, making the skin sting. She took a step back, eyes screwed up against the sand and dirt that was flying everywhere.

She gasped; the sound never travelled to her ears in the roar.

"Control it!" yelled Mommu, shielding his face against the force; his cerulean trainee cloak flapped fiercely in the wind. He stood on the other side of the tornado, his voice barely audible in the noise.

"I can't!" she shrieked back, panic coursing through her body. She should never have let her thoughts go on a trek of their own. This Wind was greater than anything she had ever created. "It's too big!"

"Call to it!" he hollered, driven back two more steps. The ferocity of the Wind increased. The roof of the nearby wooden shed was ripped off, joining the other rubble in the air.

Tia tightened her grip on her staff and planted it to the ground again, feeling her own energy fall in line with that of the Wind. She aligned the flow, screwing her eyes together in concentration. She could feel the throbbing strength in the nature and its potential to destroy. She opened her mouth and sang a tentative tune.