The Nian Chronicles

Alaene found Talek already at the practice grounds surveying the barracks in a slow circle. He turned as she zipped up and saluted. “You’ll never guess what just happened!” she gasped. “An eagle was here! I spoke with it!”

Talek paled and sank onto a tree branch. “Do you realize how dangerous that was? He could have eaten you!”

“I know!” Alaene gasped, still shaking from her encounter. “But Sari-gan was too tired to attack me! He kept saying he had young to feed, and the Lizia were eating all the food in the north. He says they’re coming, Talek! They may be here in a few weeks!”

Talek inhaled deeply and palmed his heart. “It has been hotter than I expected. It must be horrible up north if an eagle has to fly this far for food.”

Alaene flitted about the branch. “We should call a meeting. The Dancers need to understand our peril! Commander, this could convince the dissenters!”

Talek shook his head. “If they do not already believe, I’m sure one eagle won’t change their mind. I heard about your forage into the new community. I’m sorry things went badly between you and Zabor, but he is one Nia. There are many here who need you more than he does.”

Tears glistened in Alaene’s eyes. “But sir, he was my friend.”

Talek nodded. “I’m sure he still is, once he’s had time to think better on it. Now, come. We must practice.” He rose to his feet but tottered and returned to the branch.

Alaene frowned as Talek palmed his heart and flexed his left arm. “Commander? Are you hurt?”

Talek shook his head. “No,” he gasped. “I just think the heat is getting to me. I did not expect it to be so hot, even though the Histories said it was unbearable.”

Alaene wiped her own damp brow and studied Talek’s slight frown and his hunched posture. “Sir, are you sure--?”

“Alaene! I’m fine!” he assured as he rose slower this time. “We must get the trainees ready.”

Alaene followed him to the training grounds where Ramal greeted them. “Commander! You should be resting.”

“No time for that,” Talek ordered. “Round up the Younglings and get them busy by tomorrow. We need to train double hours. The Lizia are coming. Alaene spoke with an eagle this morning that said so.”

“It’s pretty hot to be training that hard,” Ramal cautioned.

“Have plenty of water on hand and keep an eye on everyone. If they look weak, sit them down. Alaene you’re right. We do need to meet with the council. This is serious business, and we need to get things going.”

Alaene inched forward. “What will you have me do, sir?”

Talek studied her. “I’m promoting you second in command of the Dancers.”

Alaene gaped at him. “What, sir?”

Talek smiled. “You’re the most outspoken advocate for remaining true to our duties. You’re strong and dedicated. You’re compassionate and courageous. You’ll make a good leader. I can’t think of anyone better for the job.”

“But I’m so young!” she protested. “What about the other officers?”

“Those still here must train the forces we have left,” Talek sighed. “I need you to coordinate the efforts between all the units.”

“But isn’t that your job?” Alaene questioned. “What will you be doing?”

Talek hesitated. “The heat is getting to me. I can’t fly as much as before, so you’ll have to do my strenuous work. And I need to oversee how the villagers are preparing.”

“Yes, sir,” Alaene sighed, but she wasn’t feeling up to the job.

Linae hummed as she helped her parents touch up the exterior of her family’s home, daubing mud in the holes between sticks and leaves where the past winter’s weather had cracked and washed it out. She always liked spring and the attendant duties of repairing and improving the village, and she would have liked being a builder like her father, but it wasn’t meant for her.

She sighed and glanced at her gray mother Arda working nearby, wishing she could be the same color, but Linae was silver and shimmered with a vague rainbow. She grimaced at her white wings behind her, wishing they weren't so noticable.

Her green father Dorik smiled when he noticed her preoccupation. “My little pigeon.”

Linae grimaced at his stale joke about her coloring. “I’m not a stupid bird!”

“No! You are a Dancer, and when the next Gathering comes, you will finally be old enough to take your place.”

“We were so proud at your hatching,” her mother sighed. “You know, some villagers questioned whether you should be a Dancer, and the council had to verify your choosing.”

Linae groaned at this often repeated story, embarrassed that she had been chosen. “I know,” she muttered. “I was a special case.”

She admired the guards hovering over their part of the village in a rainbow of colors. How could she ever be like them? The first qualification of a Dancer was to have vivid coloring; but she was so drab compared others except for these ridiculous white wings!

A commotion drew her attention to a neighbor’s nest farther along the forest. Sergeant Ramal was blocking the nest owner as two Younglings her age with swirled blue-green and white wings were led away by Dancers.

“But they’re too young! It’s not time, yet!” that father yelled.

Linae couldn’t hear Sergeant Ramal’s reply, but she did hear the mother wailing from inside the nest. Her own mother drew near to her. “What is going on?”

Linae shrank behind, realizing what was coming. “Ramal just took Marat and Taram.”

“No,” her mother groaned. “It’s too soon! Dorik, he’s coming for Linae!”

Linae watched the blue-winged Ramal approach their nest. Fear fluttered in her heart when he hovered to study her. “Greetings, Linae. It is time to be called up.”

She didn’t want to be a Dancer. She was too dull. There must have been a mistake at her birth!

“It’s too soon,” her father echoed the twins’ father. “Come back in a few years when she’s older.”

“Commander Talek has ordered it.”

Dorik reddened under his green face. “I refuse the order! She’s not ready, yet! She’s still a child!”

“You cannot refuse a military command,” Ramal retorted. “Not without facing penalties. That wouldn’t look good for a council member, would it?”

Dorik opened his mouth, but Linae turned to him. “It’s alright, Father. It’s my duty. I will go.”

But her voice quivered, and her mother turned to hug her. “Oh, my sweet darling,” she groaned. “You shouldn’t have to do this, yet!”

Her father didn’t hug as he wasn’t that type, but his wings buzzed with restrained anger. “I will fight this, Sergeant Ramal. You should be rounding up the deserters, not children!”

Ramal ignored Dorik and gestured after Taram. “Follow them to the training grounds, Linae. Leave your belongs behind. All your needs will be provided by the forces.”

Linae rose on a stiff breeze and caught up to the group lagging towards the barracks, trying to ignore her father’s shouts and her mother’s weeping behind her. She saw enough scared faces and outward weeping among her peers. She felt like weeping too but held her emotions in check. Talek wouldn’t let anything bad happen to them.

“This is because the others are abandoning their duties,” Marat muttered. “And now—”

“We have to take their places,” Taram finished.

The garish blue-green twins had been her friends for a long time and somehow knew about everything in the village. They didn’t look scared but met her gaze with sad and solemn eyes.

“I’m afraid,” she confessed.

Taram nodded. “Me too.”

Others picked up their fears and huddled in groups on the ground at the barracks. Ramal arrived soon after they did and faced them. “Remain on the training grounds until you’re assigned your sleeping quarters. During early mornings you’ll have drill practice. The rest of the day you’ll be assigned to a Dancer and learn your duties from your mentor, one Youngling to a Dancer. Your pairings have already been made and will be revealed with your other assignments. Return here after you’ve been instructed where to sleep.”

Linae stayed behind her bright friends until they were taken. Once revealed to everyone’s view after their absence, some Younglings frowned at her.

“You’re not bright enough. Why are you here?”

Linae let her wings out to show her contrast, but that made them frown even more. “White and gray? How are those Dancer colors?”

Linae blushed amid the circle of brighter Younglings and tucked her wings in. “I don’t know, ask the Choosers. They made the decision, not me.”

“Why?” someone demanded. “You’re too pale.”

A cloud moved and the sun shone on Linae, making her silver skin sparkle with iridescent colors. The crowd hushed and stared at her skin, making Linae duck her head and wish to be invisible.

“She’s a throwback. Early Dancers were never much brighter than this.”

Linae jerked up to find Ramal had just touched down beside her. “Come with me.”

She stepped away from the crowd and followed the officer into the air. When they had gone a good twenty yards he turned aside to a small barracks nest. “This is where you’ll sleep. I know you’re unsure of your place here, but you’ve been correctly Chosen.”

Alaene dropped her head. “I feel like I’m stuck in-between and not good for anything.”

Ramal patted her shoulder. “Your colors are not exceptionally bright, but they’re too bright for a commoner. You’re a Dancer. You’ll do fine. I’m assigning you to Assistant Alaene. I think you’ll like being with her.”

Linae gaped at him. “But, she’s so beautiful!”

Ramal nodded. “She’ll train you well, Linae. Just follow her guide.”

Linae returned to the group when dismissed, feeling even worse than before. Everyone knew Dancer Alaene was the most loyal and zealous Dancer in the forces. How would she ever measure up to her standards?

Later that night Alaene accompanied Talek to a large clearing in the center of the village which had been used for millennia to transact business. Many commoners sat in the lowest branches of the nearest trees surrounding a smoothed oak stump watching a smaller group of council members debate an issue. Alaene realized they were discussing the shelter.

“What progress have we made at the shelter, Foreman Kimar?” the councilor asked a grey worker standing on the stump with a handful of parchments.

“Part of the left main tunnel collapsed a few years back,” a foreman reported, sorting through his papers. “This has slowed the enlargements. Until we get that tunnel cleared and better supported, we won’t get very deep into the shelter caves.”

“How long do you expect that to take?”

“At least two weeks to stabilize, sir, and another week for cleaning out the tunnel.”

A council member raised her hand. “I motion that we get on it, then! Get the engineers and workers in there to start immediately.”

Another council member seconded her motion.

“Yea votes?” the councilor called, and every hand shot up. “It passes. Foreman Kimar, arrange the necessary work forces and supplies that you need and start tomorrow.”

Kimar bowed. “As it pleases the council.”

He launched off the stump and disappeared into the gloom towards the shallow creek and the caves. After he left, Talek flew forward. The council turned expectantly, and the gathered crowd fell silent.

“Greetings, Councilor, council members. I apologize for interrupting, but I have important business tonight.”

The councilor gestured him to continue, and Talek motioned Alaene forward. She stood by Talek, two gems in a ray of late evening sunshine.

“My brethren and fellow citizens,” Talek announced. “I’ve come here today with urgent news. Just this morning this Dancer encountered both a bobcat and an eagle.”

Surprise filtered through the group, and Alaene blushed when the commoners turned to her. Seeing their interest, Talek smiled.

“I will allow her to tell of the encounters.”

“What?” Alaene whispered, not having expected this! “No! I can’t!”

Talek urged her forward. “Just tell them what happened.”

Alaene took a deep breath and related her experiences exactly as they’d taken place, and the council and attendees sat in silence, their eyes round and attentive. “These animals come from the north. The eagle says his lands are worse off than here. He had to fly many weeks looking for food. The Lizia are devouring everything and forcing him to fly even farther to feed his young. He says they’ll be here in a few weeks.”

Shouted dismay echoed around the clearing, and it took a few minutes to bring them to order again. Talek stepped forward. “We’ve always known this time would come. We have prepared a little, but we must prepare faster. If the eagle estimated correctly, the Lizia will arrive in several weeks’ time, so we all need to pick up speed. We have much to do that we have left undone in our complacency and security. Now we must make up for lost time.”

“What are your proposals?” the councilor asked.

Talek turned to the villagers. “All personal and superficial work and chores are to be set aside. All building projects need to be postponed until a later time. All able hands are needed at the shelter caves to resolve those problems. Working together gets the work done faster.”

“What about the Dancers?” someone in the audience challenged.

“All those still loyal are working double duty to improve their skills. We are posting extra guards in the village and the meadows edge for protection and early warning. I’ve also promoted Alaene as my Second.”

Alaene blushed again as the audience fell silent. She had barely ranked up to an under officer, nowhere near seasoned enough to be a Second, and knew it wouldn’t have happened if not for the coming crisis.

“Isn’t she a little young?” someone challenged, echoing her feelings.

Talek shook his head. “Alaene knows more about the Lizia than anyone else. She’s studied the Histories thoroughly. Should anything happen to me, she will guide you through this Dance.”

“What about the rebels?” a gray council member challenged, and many villagers echoed him. “Why are they not helping? It’s their responsibility, not our children’s!”

Talek closed his eyes. “Appeals are being made for the colonists’ return, Dorik. I cannot guarantee their reaction. When the time comes, I hope they see their proper duty and return.”

“What must we prepare for this event?” another council member asked. “What items do we take when the alarm sounds?”

“Leave everything behind. At the first warning all villagers retreat to the caves immediately. Every head of household must account for their family to their district council member.”

Alaene swallowed hard as she found her own father Vartan sitting in the clearing, who nodded and kissed his fingertips. He would follow directions, but she worried for the ones on the fringe in the new development who were the farthest from the caves and the most visible at the edges of the forest. Nadia had Dancers, but would those return to their calling when the need arose?

Abruptly she realized the meeting was over and the villagers had dispersed.

Talek sighed and shook his head. “So much work,” he muttered.

“Do you think they’ll listen?”

“I hope,” he replied. “I hope.”

They returned to the practice grounds to find new duty rosters posted, weapons being readied, and Dancers on their way to their evening assignments.

Sergeant Ramal waved them over. “We have scouts posted around the grove to watch for the Lizia. We have guards posted around the village proper to protect against other predators. Guards are standing over the fields. All of next season’s Younglings have been rounded up and brought in for early training. The parents were not happy, but they’ve complied with the demands.”

Alaene turned to at least a hundred boys and girls ranging from 35 to 45 years of age huddled together at the edge of the grounds, a whole head shorter than the current Dancers. They stared wide-eyed and trembling at the sergeant instructing them.

“They’re so small,” she murmured. “What can they do against the Lizia? They’re too young!”

Talek shook his head. “They won’t be fighting directly. They’ll be assigned to officers, archers, and net casters along the escape routes to the caves. They’ll remain with their mentors at all times, and we’ll drill them double duty each day.”

Alaene shook her head. “I hope you’re right.”

Talek nodded towards the youth. “Go talk to them.”

Alaene flinched. “Me? What do I say?”

Talek patted her shoulder. “You always know what to say. Let it come from your heart.”

Alaene approached the children—to her that’s what they still were—and they turned, their wing tips trembling. She had felt much the same at her Induction. What did she say?

“My fellow Younglings,” she greeted. “I commend you all for standing up for your people in your duties as a Dancer. You’re just starting a little earlier than planned.”

The youth began to straighten and listen respectfully. “You may have seen others deserting their duties, but that is not the path to take. You are brave to accept your callings this early. Only once before in history has it been done. Your families and friends are counting on you to fulfill your destiny, and from this day forward you must conduct yourself as a Dancer, for that is what you are. I believe in you. Believe in yourself.”

The youth smiled slightly to each other and their trembling slowed if not stopped, and Alaene felt more confident that they would follow their duties. She escorted Talek to his home nest at the edge of the barracks amid the row of officer nests. When they reached his front landing he groaned and sank to the plastered boards. His face paled, his breath labored, and he rubbed his chest.

“Commander, tell me the truth. What is wrong?”

Talek turned away. “I don’t know. I don’t feel well, Alaene. My chest hurts.”

Alaene swallowed hard. “Maybe you should see a healer.”

Talek shook his head. “I don’t have time for that. None of us have time to worry about me.”

Alaene put her hand on his arm. “Maybe you should rest, then. I’ll take care of everything; you just tell me what to do.”

Talek smiled. “You already know, Second. You already know. And you’ll do fine.” He sighed and stared at the sky visible through the breaks in the tree branches. “I think a rest would do me well.”

Alaene helped him into his nest and bid him goodnight before flitting back through the moonlit forest. Guards hovered in the tops of the trees and on the fringes of the woods.

They were one step closer to their clash with the Lizia, and she was now in charge of operations. How would the other officers feel about her jumping above them? What would Zabor think when he heard of her appointment? Would he come back for her benefit?

Will he ever come back? she sighed to herself. Will any of them?

Losing a third of their members was a serious detriment to the village. She only hoped that not too many Lizia were coming. What had the eagle said? No food. Maybe most Lizia would starve before they arrived, but they were coming.

Talek watched Alaene fly off then sank against the wall of his nest. The sharp pain running down his left arm finally subsided, and he stared at the hole in the floor leading to his sleeping quarters. Could he make it there himself? His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten much that day, only a few blossoms to stave off his hunger. He’d been too busy to eat.

Remembering he still had nuts and berries in storage, he shuffled to the floor opening and stared through the hole, bracing himself for the leap. He had to open his wings at the right time to slow his descent to the next level, and he stepped off the edge into darkness with the practiced ease of hundreds of years. He fanned his wings as he cleared the opening and drifted to the next floor but stumbled a little as his feet touched faster than expected.

“I don’t remember that being so hard!” he gasped.

He looked from his rabbit down quilt to the next hole on the far side of the nest. He was so tired, but still his stomach rumbled. He walked to the next hole, his steps seeming to drag. The stuffy nest had not a breath of air, and he regretted not making a window in the second level. He stared into the dimness below, debating again if he shouldn’t just go to sleep. With determination he stepped off the ledge .

His feet hit even harder this time, and his knees buckled. What had happened? Sensing something wrong, he looked back at his wings and saw the bottom pair hadn’t fully opened. He touched them but couldn’t feel his hands on his wings. They felt like someone else’s.

He stood, trying to furl them back in, but they wouldn’t respond. He thought about his mother’s wings not responding as she aged and hung his head. Alaene would have to fully take over if he became disabled. He looked up at the hole, realizing he’d have to climb the ladder to get back out.

His stomach grumbled, and he turned to the boxes of dried berries and nuts along the wall. He picked a few, munching as he went. The sweetness of the dried blueberries tickled his throat. He coughed at the irritation, reaching for his canteen, but it was empty. He’d have to go upstairs for more.

He tossed a few nuts in his mouth and chewed, wondering if that funny taste meant they’d gone bad. He held them up, his night vision kicking in, but they seemed alright.

His hunger quenched, he turned back to the ladder; but as he reached it another pain shot down his arm, much worse than the others that day and emanating from his heart. A giant fist seemed to crush his breath away.

“No!” he wheezed, clutching his chest. “Alaene! Anyone! Help me!”

But his voice was barely a whisper, which he was sure no one would hear. He grabbed the ladder rungs to pull himself up but his numbed hands wouldn’t hold, and he fell backwards. On the floor his pain intensified, convulsing his entire body. He writhed around to his knees, but the pain doubled him over and his body collapsed. He shuddered uncontrollably and cried out again, but his voice was gone.

“Alaene,” he keened one last time as blackness descended over his eyes.

Realizing he could not prevail, he surrendered to its promise of peace.