The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 48: New Discovery

Tia frowned as she ran her finger slowly down the faded old paper again. The strange inscriptions swam before her eyes as she scanned the page once more. For all the strange usage of unconventional words in Gwentian prose, the syntax was not dissimilar to Dernexan. With frequent references to modern text and the occasional assistance from her scribing colleagues, she was able to slowly but steadily decipher the ancient scrolls assigned to her. They piled up to the level of her eyes and seemed a daunting task, but she was pleased by her progress.

The candlelight dimmed. She lit another one, bathing her wooden table with the warm yellow glow. She pored over the paper again, her green eyes taking in each word.

It could not be right, she thought, her frown deepening as she referenced the translation again. No, she wasn't mistaken. She had translated these words without a single mistake.

Wind spinner.

"Demi-god...of reverence...able to calm the storms and summon raging winds under their jurisdiction," she muttered under her breath, her heart thumping. She skipped several paragraphs she couldn't interpret before another new word caught her eye.  "...our thanks to the messenger of nature...blessed with the gift to analyse the calling of the wind and predict natural disasters...allowed the people to survive the storm of four and ten days...some are able to replicate the sounds...committed to the tunes of the wind...."

She took the next scroll with a shaking hand and ran her index finger down to the relevant section.

Wind prophet. Wind caller. Wind mediator.

Different records described those beings differently, but there was no denying the traits of these individuals and who these texts referred to: Windcasters.

She eased back with disbelief, running a hand through her fringe.

These records are over a thousand years old, she mused, lining the relevant scrolls in a row. Windcasters have always been part of Dernexan history and no other country. So why do they already stand in in significance in ancient Gwentian history? This makes no sense.

She jumped as the dinner gong sounded. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she had forgotten the sun had set and the time to eat was fast approaching. Tidying her scrolls away, she then slipped into the queue with the other scribes and headed to the dining hall; her mind was already made up as to where she was going to spend her evening.

****

"But why the sudden interest?" Sarpanit asked, bemused as she leant against the wooden barrier. They were two floors above the ground floor, overlooking the centre where the scribes' tables stood. "Tiamat?"

Tia didn't speak for a good fifteen seconds, her fingers dancing along the spines of the heavy books before drawing one out, flicking through the pages. Her eyes watered as the dust from the old book flew into the air, but she persevered.

"Here!" She thrust the tome at the Gwentian, who staggered under its weight. "Read for me."

"Can't you do it for yourself?" Sarpanit complained, straightening up.

"No. I need an accurate translation. Please, Sarpanit."

"I haven't done ancient scribing in a long time," Sarpanit said with a sigh, but obliged. "During approximately 1000 A.F. – you're looking at history several thousands of years old, Tiamat." Tia nodded, gesturing for her to continue. "The conflict within the royal family escalated to unprecedented levels. Assassinations were rife and the One Kingdom became very unstable due to the fierce and bloody competition for the throne.