Eclipse: the Beginning

When the group returned home, the midday meal had already begun. Several showed concern over the late appearance, but the Winds eased the family’s worries. They joined the meal in the garden, in which Samuel was grateful to partake. He had missed breakfast, telling stories, playing spy, and fainting. Seraph laughed with the young men at some jokes. Celestial ignored the children pointing at her face, unafraid of her colorless eyes. Raphael sat on the blanket beside Samuel. He looked like he was waiting to speak.

“Master Raphael?” the teenager said after swallowing a mouthful of grapes. “What can you tell me of these Spirit Sages? I’m curious to learn more about them. Perhaps the information can be of help.”

“All I can recall of the Spirit Sages is what I remember in tales from the Wingies about the Great War,” Raphael replied as he broke off a piece of bread.

“What kind of tales?” Samuel took a sip of his wine. It tasted more like grape juice to him, but who was he to judge? “They weren’t evil, were they?”

“Evil?” the former general frowned at the word. “What is evil? I have never heard that word before.”

“You don’t have that term in Aurora?” Samuel blinked in surprise. He should just listen instead of jumping to conclusions from now on. “It’s difficult to explain. What were you saying again?”

“From what your mentor told me,” Celestial answered as she stabbed a second helping of meat with a two pronged fork, “the Spirit Sages were mystics who used a lost magic.”

“What kind of magic?” Seraph blinked innocently down at the seasoned soldier beside him. He took a sip from his goblet after taking a bite of his biscuit. “Was it like mine?”

“No,” she answered, biting into her new portion, “these sages used a magic that did not belong to any of the elements. It more than likely had to do with the spirit, hence their name.”

“Spirit? What would that do?”

“I don’t know, Seraph, something about manifesting inner strength. He mentioned they were sensitive to the spirits of others. That’s why your mentor called Samuel a Spirit Sage. The whelp must have sensed your emotions. We have to keep those in check moving forward.” She turned her head to make sure he recognized that she was giving him a hard stare.

“Yes,” Seraph said in a low voice. His eyes fell to his lap at the memory of Samuel’s face when they touched. He never wanted that to happen again. “Where are the sages today, though?”

“Gone. They are mentioned in legends from the Wingies, before the Great War. I have never heard of them though, so we’ll have to do some digging.”

“Where would they have gone?”

“No one knows,” the soldier replied irritably, sipping on her wine. “They supposedly vanished.”

“So,” Samuel said in a disappointed tone, “there’s no way to identify if I am one, let alone how to train, is there?”

“There could be knowledge among the Wingies,” Raphael replied hopefully. “They would hold more knowledge than I. As my memory is incomplete, I can only recall the stories. Our province’s mystics might even divine a solution for you with Seraph’s wind.”

“His wind?” Samuel blinked with curiosity at the elder.

“Wind is the native magic of this province. It is in our being. We are all children of the wind. Lord Zion is the wind itself embodied, but when he was taken from us, the very air stilled. Mystics and magic wielders work with the magic within them, but Seraph’s magic is stronger than that of typical wielders, like myself. He can birth wind around him. The Wingies could use that to divine for you.”

“That’s … incredible.” Samuel was thoroughly amazed and confused. He had not quite wrapped his head around the whole magic and god thing yet. They were proving more interesting the more he learned about them.

“You should seek them out, young Nomad,” Raphael said, grasping the youth’s shoulder. “I am certain you will find more answers to your questions there. It will be one step closer to your destiny.”

“My destiny, eh? Still not sure how I’m going to pull that one off,” Samuel sighed with a tired smile. The encouragement was welcome, though. He liked Western Wind, but he realized there were more countries to see, more people to encounter, more battles to fight ….

After clearing the meal, Raphael pulled Seraph for some magical training. This left Celestial and Samuel stranded again. The soldier made it clear to the youth she wanted to be alone, so he backed off to make himself useful elsewhere. She returned to the gardens in the center of the building – they were beautiful with a calming effect on her spirit.

“It’s so similar,” she mused aloud. As she walked toward the center, the plants grouped closer together about the tower. She noticed the large shadow cast on the ground. She knelt to look closely at the flowers. They had barely opened their petals. The sight dredged up a memory from long ago.

“All life needs light,” Celestial whispered to herself. She cupped her hands towards the flora. As she closed her eyes, she hummed quietly. A gentle glow radiated from her palms. The flowers opened, drinking up the light. “There you are. Just like the rest.”

“How did you do that?”

“By the goddess!” Celestial jumped, unconsciously reaching with shaky hands for an absent blade at her hip. “Samuel! I might have cut you down for sneaking around that way!”

“B-But I wasn’t sneaking!” The teenager flinched at the outburst. “Yamin and I are fetching flowers for the vases! Honest!”

“Then why were you spying on me?” she growled through clenched teeth. Her blazing eyes mirrored her boiling anger.

“I wasn’t! Yamin told me to clip flowers by the tower!” He felt the rage in his chest, but there was an underlying layer of embarrassment at its core. What had he done to mortify her so?

Celestial grunted at his answer. Samuel might sense others’ emotions, but his own were easy to read. His anxious eyes spoke clear enough for him. He was telling the truth.

“Do as you please.”

Samuel blinked as she looked away. Head turned and arms crossed, he did not need empathy to notice her irritation. As he knelt to collect the flowers, he made a mental note to leave the ones she had helped to bloom alone. That would earn her scorn for sure. He bit the inside of his cheek before daring to ask a second time.

“So … how did you do it?”

“Are we eager for discipline today?” she snapped back, shifting her weight on her feet.

“No,” the teen whimpered. “I was curious if it were magic. Since I still don’t quite understand how it works, I thought I might learn more from you.”

The Light glanced back at the kneeling boy. An advantage of her opaque eyes was that people never knew where she was looking. She watched as he clipped each flower with the small sickle in his hand. She realized he was foreign to Aurora, but she was starting to grasp how lost he was. His Earth sounded incomparable to her world. Their customs seemed detached and restrictive. Celestial took for granted his unwilling ignorance and belittled his tries to remedy it.

“It was magic.”

Samuel glanced up at her.

“My light magic came through my immortal mother. It’s nothing impressive though. I am no Angel.”

“Angel? Oh, Seraph said you would know about Angels! What are they like? I doubt they are the same as the ones back home.” The teenager rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke. He was trying to image angels without wings who were not evil. Though, he had to drop that term.

“I’m not sure what your angels are like, but ours are beautiful maidens and warriors of Heaven. All of them channel magic through them with the ease of gods. Each wields an opposing side of light magic.” Celestial knelt beside Samuel, staring at the flowers again. Her hands tucked close to her trunk under her arms. “Male Angels are powerful warriors of the Heavenly army and Royal Guard. They protect the king, and many hold positions in the main force as officers. Female Angels wield creative light as priestesses, which has healing power that exceeds even water magic. Males wield projective light magic you would have to witness to believe. Even other Aurorans are left speechless.”

“Oh,” Samuel said, at a loss for words. Angels sounded just like the beings back home, only they were not a myth. “Celestial, are you part Angel then? I mean, you used healing magic, did you not?”

“My mother.” She became quiet after that, but there was a crack in her voice before she silenced. Samuel received a sting of pain in his chest. It was similar to when Seraph touched him earlier that day, but this was far deeper, buried under a layer of numb. He wondered what made Celestial’s experience such a strange mix of emotions.

“Samuel! Did you finish clipping the flowers?”

Samuel glanced up at Yamin’s energetic voice. He sighed with a small smile.

“Coming, Yamin!” He looked back at Celestial. Was that sadness seeping through now? Perhaps he had made her think of something with his inquiries. A timid hand touched her shoulder as the young man whispered, “You can tell me when you’re ready, Celestial. See you later.”

The soldier gaped at the grass beneath her feet. The touch had made her feel as if a dam had broken within her with a flood of emotions rushing forth. Tears fell as Samuel jogged off to catch the boy. She did not understand what he had done to make this happen, but it frightened her. She wrapped her arms around her knees as she wept quietly. The Light made a point to never let him touch her. Still, with her emotions unleashed to the surface, a small cry escaped her lips.

“Mother … Father … forgive me.”

“Focus, Seraph,” Raphael spoke placidly. He was a strict teacher as much as he was a caring mentor. “You must learn to control the wind without losing control of yourself. Gods wield magic differently than immortals and mystics. You are part of the wind.”

“Not like Lord Zion though, right?” Seraph opened his eyes to look at his teacher. Any excuse to escape Raphael’s intense training was worth attempting.

“No and yes, young master,” Raphael looked skyward, “Lord Zion is the wind of Aurora. All wind gods were born after him.”

“Born?” Seraph turned to face the former general. He would not concentrate when he had so many questions forming in his mind now. Throwing his overwrap aside, he wore a curious expression that Raphael frowned at. “Were they his children?”

“Lord Zion never had children in the natural sense. Only the Earth goddess has. It is said Lord Zion was far too restless to remain at a lover’s side, for who can capture the wind? He said he admired the bond of the Sky god and Land goddess, but he could never possess it. It was a secret pain.”

“Do you remember him, Raphael? You sound as if you knew him quite well.”

“A long time ago …” Raphael’s voice sounded lost. Seraph wondered how much of his mentor was lost with his memories. He had never known about his service as an officer in the Wind Army or his loss in the Great War. For someone he admired, he realized how little he really knew about him. The immortal focused when he noticed Seraph’s worried visage. “Your father was Lord Zion’s friend, Captain of the Guard, and confidant. I served at our god’s side and was called friend as well, though I owe everything to your father for his mercy to me after the war. That is why I keep his home in order until either his son rises to oversee it or he returns to us.”

“Raphael, what happened the day they took Father?” Seraph’s eyes glazed over as his tone became serious, thinking about the crime against his family. He realized the Heavenly Army arrested him, but he did not understand why. “I’ve never heard the full story.”

“I remember the day vividly,” the immortal said in a flat tone. His face hardened a moment as a breeze rippled from his feet, but he collected himself after a deep breath, softening his expression. “It was a beautiful day. The grapes had been harvested that morning, and the young ladies were dancing about the basin, making new wine. Your parents were laughing and clapping their hands to the musicians. Unbeknownst to them, you were present as well. I was caught up in the merriment. It was the last smile I recall that day.

“The army came silently, marching through the vineyard. Their faces were grim. A sudden gust warned your father. He told the women and children to go inside. That was when we saw them coming. Children were crying at the white robes. The women begged the men not to resist. I called upon my staff, prepared to defend my home and master. Before I could strike, your father stepped forward, asking why a legion of troops had come to his estate.

“The general bowed, for I am certain he was ashamed. He said he was to arrest your father by royal warrant for treason against the crown. The outcry from our family still echoes in my ears. I threatened to attack to defend my master’s honor, but in your father’s wisdom, he stopped me. He offered himself willingly, asking his home be unharmed. They agreed. Miriam tried to beg them to stop as they clapped him in shackles as if he were a criminal. I told him we would rescue him but he rebuked me, saying I would bring the wrath of the Sun upon Western Wind. He told Miriam to oversee the estate until his return, and I was to protect the family in his stead.

“That was when he bequeathed his earring before they took him, dragged as a beast. When he finally struggled, he turned round to call to us. He promised he would return, crying out from the labyrinth. I am certain he continued past the border. When we received word of his disappearance, we also learned of Lord Zion’s capture. His public punishment had gone awry, making the winds die in the west.” Raphael looked at the grass beneath his feet. Grief was clear in his eyes.

“Does that mean … Lord Zion was …?” Seraph gaped in horror at his mentor’s memories. The Sun god was willing to go to drastic lengths to protect himself. How was their beautiful world at the mercy of such a tyrant? How could Celestial defend their king knowing how he had wronged their country?

“I believe our guardian is still among us, for there is still Wind in Aurora. It has been twenty years though.” The former soldier’s voice sounded less convincing than his words stated.

“Do you think …?” Seraph ran his fingers through his hair to rest at the base of his neck. “Do you think Father helped Lord Zion to escape somehow?”

Raphael glanced over at the young Wind. The idea had crossed his mind, but that Seraph would think of it without him implying, revived his hopes. He marveled at the stance Seraph had taken. He looked so much like his father. It warmed his spirit to see a glimpse of his general even if it were merely in his son.

“I do not have an answer to that, young master. That is for you to discover in your own quest.” A smile of encouragement grew on the warrior’s lips. “Seek your father; only there will you find your answers.”

“I’ve been searching, Raphael,” the younger sighed in disappointment. “I never found so much as a clue in three years.”

“The Wingies might provide one, Seraph. Escort the young sage there.” Raphael placed a firm grip on Seraph’s shoulder. “Never accept a cold trail, my friend. Press onward.”

“To the Hive?” Seraph gaped back at the immortal. “You said it fell when the Viceroy drove the Wingies out. He claimed they were starting an uprising.”

“There are whispers that they fled to Lord Zion’s castle for sanctuary,” the other replied in a low voice, as if he might be overheard. “Venture further west, Seraph. Your destiny awaits you there.”

“The castle? No one knows where it is. How could I find it?” Seraph felt doubt, even a little fear, after hearing his mentor’s advice. He had already crossed the law twice. Three would surely be the limit of his luck, right? Still, the thought of finding his wronged father meant more to him than any anxiety, but how was he supposed to find a castle that no one even remembered what it looked like?

“The winds will guide you, Seraph,” Raphael smiled with pride. He had raised his master’s son as best he was able in his father’s place. He was like a nephew to him. To see him come this far from so low morale, Raphael saw greatness waiting to be grasped. If only Seraph could see it. “Go as soon as you have restored your provisions. Not only for yourself, but the answers your friend seeks will be there as well. Of this, I am certain.”

“Shouldn’t we wait until morning? I’ve never explored the labyrinth past the estate.”

“Then why not soar above it, young god?” Raphael pinched his pupil’s cheek as he snickered.

Samuel sat outside the kitchen door, drinking a nectar Tamar had offered him. He had been working with Yamin on chores since the luncheon, so he had earned a break. He trusted the young woman enough to drink without question. Left to his thoughts, his mind plagued him once again on what to do next.

How could he be a Spirit Sage when he was not from Aurora? He thought about how Raphael said they had vanished during a war. Just what did that mean? This raised more questions that concerned him. The balance of Aurora that Grandmother Wingie had mentioned was far worse than he originally considered.

His empathy acted up, drawing off a sudden burst of happiness in the kitchen. He did not mind that emotion. The Nomad could use some happy streaks around the angst. As he reflected further on his part in this world, he noticed something in the distance, coming up on the vineyard. It was difficult to make out any details, but he recognized the uniforms – all white. He was beginning to fear the blank color.

“Yamin!” The teenager stumbled inside. The ladies giggling in the kitchen turned at his outburst. “Do you know where Seraph and Celestial are?”

They shook their heads in response, confused by his panic.

“What’s wrong, Samuel?” Yamin walked into the kitchen with a basket of cloth. “You look sun fried.”

“Heaven’s soldiers! I’m certain I saw some enter the vineyard! We need to leave, or we risk your safety!”

The women looked startled for a brief moment, but they rushed about, gathering food and other provisions from the kitchen. Yamin dropped the basket in his hands. He ran to grasp Samuel’s hand, pulling him into the hallway. It did not take him long to understand they were looking for his companions. Before they got too far down the hall, Celestial appeared beside them, startling them as they ran.

“Why do you run like vermin from a rushing river?” she asked coldly. The Light looked like she was jogging next to them. It made Samuel feel pathetic just looking at her.

“I saw soldiers from Heaven on the edge of the property,” he replied in a labored voice. “What do we do?”

“We leave. Which direction were they coming from?” The Light switched to captain mode. She had been listless with the peace and quiet. A soldier needed purpose. The sooner they got back to their quest, the better.

“Samuel saw them from the kitchen entrance,” Yamin said in a rushed voice. Winds had impressive stamina to speak so clearly in such a mad dash.

“South-east then.” Celestial saw the rooms coming up on her left. “I will meet Seraph and you to the West. Do not make me wait.”

“Of course!” Samuel called after her as she banked off. “Where do we find Seraph, Yamin? Wasn’t he training with Master Raphael?”

“Yes, they’ll be out back near the bath house!”

“Ah, you mean that yard overlooking the fruit orchard!”

The two youths pressed onward, still gripping each other’s hand. Whether it was for pacing or security, Samuel did not let go. The bathhouse was not far ahead of them to the northern portion of the estate. Samuel hoped Seraph’s training had not attracted the soldiers’ attention. As the thought crossed his mind, a gust of wind rushed through the hall of the mansion. It forced the two boys to pause, holding onto the garden wall to maintain their balance. The teenager looked where it was coming from, gaping in surprise as the wind died as quickly as it had come.

“Was that coming … from the south-east?”

Seraph gaped as wind struck him from behind. To his surprise, it did not pass around him. Instead, it swirled about in a gentle whirlwind. Raphael gasped, stunned at the display. He stepped backward from his young master.

The young god closed his eyes as he let the air flow about him. What was he sensing?

“Raphael,” Seraph whispered in an airy voice, “I can hear something … voices.”

“What do they say, Seraph?” The former soldier sounded afraid of what the answer might be. Would History repeat itself? “Listen closely. What do they say?”

“Men … talking,” the young god muttered, “Orders to capture … fugitives.” Opening his eyes, he gasped when the pieces came together for him. The breeze dispersed. “The soldiers must have found us! They’re coming here! Now!”

“Then make haste!” Raphael grasped the younger Wind by the forearm, pulling him back toward the house. “If you leave now, we can occupy them long enough to give you a strong lead!”

“Raphael! Where should we go? What about everyone here? I can’t just leave my family to soldiers after my head!”

“Seraph,” Raphael stopped running. His voice was low. His tone was serious. He looked back at the young god with hard eyes. It was unfair to ask so much of his master after everything he had endured. He realized how cruel fate was, but he also understood there was no other way. It had to be Seraph.

“You must go to Lord Zion’s castle. It lies in the mountains to the far west. Seek the Wingies. They are the only ones who can guide you in your quests now. You are the only salvation for Western Wind. My charge is to this house. I will protect it until my lord returns.”

Seraph silenced. When his mentor pulled him again, he followed in silence. What more was there to say? He felt crushed under the responsibility Raphael had placed on his shoulders. He was just one person, a loner at that. How could he save a country? He did not know where to start. Wingies? Bog? Heaven? There was so much wrong in Aurora. As much as he longed to find his father, all paths seem to lead back to his quest with Samuel. Was this what Grandmother Wingie had meant when she said their quests were linked?

“Seraph!” The Wind looked back, hearing the familiar voice. “Seraph! Thank goodness! We have to meet Celestial at the West exit! Heaven’s soldiers are nearly here!”

“Samuel?” Seraph stared back at the young man. The Nomad seemed so sure of himself. When had he gained such determination? When had the Wind lost his?

“Seraph,” Samuel said, grasping the hand closest to his reach, “let’s do this together!”

His reassuring smile told the Wind all would be well. His hand gave an encouraging squeeze, making Seraph smile back. Even without the boost he had just gotten, he remembered he was not facing this alone anymore. That made all the difference for him. He gave a gentle squeeze back.

“Yes, let’s!”

Yamin had outrun all three, standing beside Celestial and Tamar at the exit. The soldier was shouldering a traveling pack, dressed in her white robe again. She noticed the rest approaching, motioning to the other two packs that rested against the wall. When she saw the two holding hands and smiling, her already poor mood fell further.

“The lighter is on the left,” she grunted. “We don’t have time for the runt to hurt himself with a strain.”

“Guess I’ll take the right one,” Seraph said in a light tone. He even smiled as he scooped up it up in one fluid motion as he came to a stop. “Where’s Cherub, though?”

“It found me,” Celestial retorted, thumbing behind her. The staff was visible over her shoulder. “It’s as clingy as its master, it seems.” Seraph flushed, but his smile remained.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer, Yamin,” Samuel said in a breathless voice. He surprised himself, hearing his clear speech. It seemed he had gained some endurance. “I enjoyed helping you with your chores, though. When I come back, I’d love to assist again.”

“I wish I could go with you. I liked listening to your stories, but I bet you’ll have even more when we meet again, Samuel. May the Winds carry you.” Yamin smiled, grasping Samuel’s forearms. “Take care of Master Seraph for us. He’s hopeless without us after all!”

“Hey …” Seraph frowned down at the boy. Tamar giggled as she handed him his cloak. “I’m no helpless whelp.”

“Yamin,” Samuel felt the faith flow from the young Wind swelling inside of him. He smiled back just as wide. “I will. Take care until we meet again, mate!” The two tightened their grips on the others arm, sealing their pact.

“Raphael,” Seraph turned to embrace his mentor, “I will return. By the winds, I will return with my father.”

“Seraph ….” The immortal nearly wept as he listened to the passion in his young master’s words. He embraced him tightly before releasing him. Raphael was at peace, knowing Seraph would not fail. He believed that with all of his spirit.

“I will return him alive, or bring his remains to his homeland. Until then, watch over the house and keep our family safe.”

“Of course, young master. May the winds carry you.”

“We should go.” Celestial did not wait for her companions, pushing through the door.

“Farewell to you all,” Tamar called as the young men rushed after the Light. A bright smile shone on her face. Her master looked so happy with them, happier than she ever remembered him in that house.

“Same to you,” Samuel replied over his shoulder with a wave, “and godspeed with the soldiers!”

The three left behind watched them run down the hillside between the orchard and vineyard. Samuel’s words echoed in their ears: godspeed. Each of them prayed that the gods would speed them on their way. Tamar and Yamin turned back into the house to prepare for the soldiers, but Raphael remained in the doorway, staring after their trail.

“Godspeed, eh?” he said in a thoughtful tone. Samuel was a strange and wonderful person, but just who was he to be the center of fantastic change? With his eyes of silver, the speech from no place he had heard of, and the spirit of a leader in the making, the immortal hoped he would see his questions revealed. “May the gods speed you chosen three in your fated task. I sense each of you have a part to play in bringing Aurora to a great union once again.”