The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 28: Growing Up

It had been a while since she had snuck out.

It would be at least one hour until dawn broke. There should be more than enough time.

She fastened the cloak about her shoulders and slipped her boots on. Staff in one hand and the other hand reaching out in the darkness, she found the door and eased herself out. Pausing, she listened for sounds of stirring people. When she felt she was in the clear, she tiptoed ahead, like a thief, along the corridor and up the stairs.

She heaved a sigh of relief as she slotted the roof lock onto the latch. She would be alone for a while.

The roofs were flat in Capital. The inn they stayed in was not the tallest one, so her Hearing would be impeded; nevertheless she had enough height so it should suffice. The sky was still near-black, with little grey clouds dozing in the darkness. She could barely make out the outlines of the other buildings across the street. Little blobs moved at ground level; no doubt the security guards still patrolled diligently whatever the hour. Whatever did King Ea have to hide? For what was he so fearful?

She glanced around and shivered. Without the sun, it was chilly. It was to her favour, however; sound travelled faster in cold air than warm air. She could Hear better in Capital than in Hume. She might not be able to gain news here in Capital and unless she snuck in a Hearing during someone else's Singing; she was unlikely to learn more about the current situation. Nevertheless, the Wind carried more than just Windcasters' messages.

She hoped it would work. She had only ever read it in one of Master Anu's tomes; she had never seen him perform Sensing before and most certainly had never attempted it herself. She grimaced. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

She spread her feet at shoulder-width apart, and planted her staff squarely in front of her. Keeping her face hidden beneath her hood and her breathing even, she closed her eyes and tuned her ears to the sound of nature.

Perhaps the king wished his civilians remain ignorant, thought Tia, suppressing a triumphant grin as she began to clear her head of thoughts; but he cannot block the passage of air.

The Wind sang to her, the gentle voices only slightly muffled by the other tall buildings. The volume was low, but audible against the quietude of the early morning. The harmony was sweet and soft, overlapping each other in a delicate caress.

It never struck her before, but this Wind was the very Wind that was used in the last Great War. This very same wind slew the thousands of Gwentians, twisted into a foul misuse by the very people entrusted with its powers.

She breathed deeply, emptying herself of thoughts again.

The Wind sang to her, relaying the lives, the deaths, and the emotions of the living things. She filtered out all that were irrelevant. She ignored the whisperings from the north and the susurrations from the east, tuning her ears to the south and west, where Ptarmigan Fortress and Elder Down, the two cities nearest to the Gwentian border, were situated.

Amidst the cocktail of feelings, the first that she picked up was fear : suffocating relentless fear. It hovered like a shadow above her shoulder, snaking around her chest and squeezing tight, and murmured unsettling sounds into her ear. Terror of impending doom and devastation. It was so strong – so many souls were holding such strong an emotion – that Tia felt sick.

Beneath the fear, there was resentment. Not jealousy, but resentment with abandonment. It was second in magnitude only to the fear, but she could not tell more details beyond that. The fear overlapped it again, slowly turning to despair and nihilism. Those feelings were stronger the further she reached towards the two peripheral cities. It was engulfing her to the very core.