Windwalker_Forbidden Flight

by H. J. Bellus

  Kiva’s mother released her face and wrapped her arms around her.

  Kiva yelped at the sharp pain in her side, and her mother released her immediately.

  “Sorry!”

  “It’s fine,” Kiva said, forcing a smile.

  They spent the next half hour getting her dressed, as the celebrations continued out in the basin. Once ready, they walked from her room into the social room of their abode. Mica and Amir were there, sitting on pillows playing stones. They both stood at her arrival.

  “Kiva!” Mica said, grinning broadly. “You look awful!”

  Tsk. Her mother scolded.

  Kiva turned to her, “We keeping pet goats in the house now? Why does this one speak to me?”

  Mica laughed, walking forward to hug her.

  “Careful!” her mother warned.

  Mica settled for placing his hands on her shoulders. “I am glad you’re okay, little sister,” he said genuinely.

  “And you, brother,” she said smiling.

  Amir stepped up behind him, and Mica moved aside.

  He was looking away, and she could tell he was wrestling with something difficult. After an awkward pause, Kiva was preparing to speak when he blurted out, “I doubted you.”

  Kiva watched, waiting for him to continue.

  He looked at the floor as he spoke, “I thought you were being a rude, mule-headed, disrespectful, selfish, ungrateful—”

  “I think I get the idea,” Kiva said, raising an eyebrow.

  He looked up into her eyes, and she saw something there that she’d never expected. Amir was ashamed.

  “It was me,” he said. “I was all of those things, not you…I am sorry.”

  Kiva’s expression softened, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it big brother. I’ve only ever wanted to live up to you and Mica.”

  “And now you’ve surpassed us both,” Mica said.

  “Hardly,” Kiva argued. “Shadestalkers are born to fight the Sharun…and what good would they or the windwalkers be without stonemelter steel?” she asked, looking at Amir.

  “None whatsoever!” Mica agreed.

  “Let’s go,” her father said. “Everyone is waiting.”

  Everyone? Kiva thought.

  She finally made her way out the front door of their home into blinding sunlight. She shielded her eyes as they adjusted, and her ears were met with an immense chorus of high-spirited, raucous, cheering.

  Kiva furrowed her brow, squinting. A sea of people stretched out before her, jumping and clapping exuberantly. They were so many, and so tightly packed, that not a patch of ground was visible.

  What are they cheering for? she thought.

  They cheer for you, Noor answered. Kiva looked up and found the kiraeen flying in big lazy circles, high above the basin.

  Me?

  Sure enough, Kiva began picking up bits and pieces of what they were saying. They were calling her name!

  Kiva felt suddenly uncomfortable. She was more than used to handling criticism and condescending glares, but she had never experienced anything like this.

  “Come,” her mother said into her ear.

  With her parents at either side, and her brothers in tow, Kiva slowly made her way down the stairs leading to the basin floor. There was hardly any sign at all of the chaos that had been visited upon them only a few days before.

  It has been over a week, Noor corrected.

  A week? Kiva exclaimed. It felt like three days at most.

  There were still great piles of sand in corners here and there, but the debris had been cleared, and the sandshields were once again retracted.

  As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the exuberant crowd parted to let them through. For Kiva, the experience was surreal. A week ago she had been the object of controversy. An exile, scorned and unwelcome. Now, she was surrounded by smiling, cheering faces. Not only had they accepted her, they loved her. Despite the adoration, there was a part of Kiva that remained unsettled. She recalled the blood red flowers and twisting stone spires to the southwest, and wondered what Jonah encountered on the Mujdab Plains. They had kept the Sharun at bay, but at the cost of how many lives? The threat was far from gone.

  Kiva and her family continued through the crowd until they reached the same stage on which she’d been exiled. A group of safekeepers were crowded upon it, along with three windwalkers, one of whom was Jonah. The council were present as well, seated on their benches. One bench stood empty—the same that had belonged to Jado. Standing before them all was Lalla Suriel—eldest of the Sahra’ mystics—leaning on her cane beside a young man in orange robes.

  Kiva swallowed. Her last conversation with this woman had been less than cordial. Nevertheless, she had little choice but to go along with whatever came next. They reached the stairs to the stage, and Kiva’s father and brothers held back as her mother helped her onto the platform.

  Suriel hobbled over, impatiently waving off the assistance offered by the young man at her side.

  Kiva readied herself for the tongue-lashing she would surely receive for disregarding her exile. The old woman approached, and looked up at Kiva with steely gray eyes.

  “When you’re as old as I am, child, you tend to take much for granted. It is all too easy to forget that wisdom must often be sought, rather than assumed.”

  Kiva tilted her head, attempting to decipher whether or not she was in trouble.

  “A good lesson for myself,”—Suriel’s eyes sparkled mischievously—“and all the other qadim with one foot in the grave.”

  Kiva cracked a smile, and Suriel took her arm.

  “Thank you, Kivanya,” she said with genuine humility. “You’ve given my grandchildren a chance for full, happy lives. I was gravely mistaken to exile you, and though I do not expect it, I humbly ask your forgiveness.”

  Kiva was speechless. Judging by the shocked expression of those in earshot, this was not something that happened often, if ever.

  “Of course, you have it,” Kiva said finally. “Sometimes, it’s difficult to believe what is coming, until you’ve seen it with your own eyes.”

  “You speak truth, Kivanya Fariq. And now we have all seen the terrifying power of the threat we must face. Come, our people await.”

  They walked together toward the front of the stage. Suriel hobbled, hunched over on her cane, and Kiva walked gingerly in small, shuffling steps.

  “We must look quite the pair,” Kiva said.

  Suriel barked a laugh. “And still tougher than any man in the crowd!”

  A great cheer erupted as they reached the center of the stage. Kiva looked out over the staggering mass of people before her. Surely every last Sahra’ stood in attendance.

  Suriel held up her hand for quiet, and received it a moment later.

  “Someone wise once said to me that it is sometimes difficult to believe what is coming, unless seen with one’s own eyes. Often, those with the courage to speak out risk hostility, and ostracism. Why is this?” she asked rhetorically. “It is because we do not want to believe. Surely, this was true for myself.” Suriel paused, gathering her thoughts.

  “Kivanya Fariq, your exile is hereby annulled. Should you choose to forgive us, we would be honored to have you among us once more.”

  The crowd cheered wildly, in obvious agreement with Suriel’s statement. After several seconds, she once again raised a palm to quiet them so that Kiva could speak.

  Kiva wiped the sweat in her palms on her tunic. “I…thank you,” she said.

  “Well?” Suriel asked. “Would you count yourself among the Sahra’ once more?”

  “Yes!” Kiva called out, and the crowd cheered once again.

  “It is done!” Suriel shouted. She then turned to Kiva. “Well done, child.”

  Suriel gestured for her to stand aside. �
��Now, Councilman Daivari would speak.”

  Daivari stood from his seat on the bench, and walked past the safekeepers who stood to his left, and the three windwalkers to his right. Kiva later learned that the rest of the windwalker sect had survived the storm by taking shelter. Jonah and these two flew through it, in order to provide aid to the basin.

  Kiva’s eyes met Jonah’s, and they shared a smile.

  “The Sharun have returned,” Daivari’s voice held such vehemence, that the crowd grew silent. “Many, if not all of you have seen with your own eyes what this means. Those of you who haven’t seen, have surely heard. It has been three hundred years since any have laid eyes upon them. Now, we have seen first hand the fury, and the power they wield. But we have also seen the strength and the courage of our people!”

  The mass of people before him began to murmur, giving the occasional shout.

  “The safekeepers who managed to break free and fight!” Davari called out with his powerful voice, gesturing to them. The crowd was once again cheering loudly.

  “The windwalkers, who assailed the sandshades from above!”

  More cheers came, and Kiva heard Jonah’s name amongst the yelling.

  “And finally,” he said, waiting for the cheering to subside, “For the one among us who refused to be what she was told to be. Whose strength of will and unwavering purpose,” he surveyed the crowd, “are the reason so many of us remain alive today.”

  Kiva blushed. This was far more than she felt she deserved. Looking out at the faces in the crowd, she began to understand that Daivari’s words were not meant to flatter her. They were meant to bring hope to their people.

  “I speak of Kivanya Fariq, of the windwalker sect,” he said with finality.

  Kiva felt a powerful sense of pride. The windwalker sect.

  The crowd was loud before, but now it had grown deafening.

  Noor, Kiva thought. This is your victory as much as mine.

  A great screech pierced the air, and many in the crowd turned their faces up to watch and cheer, as Noor performed a series of impressive aerobatics.

  Daivari held up his hands, signaling quiet.

  “The council is in agreement: this must be the last time the Sharun catch us off guard. Windwalker patrols will be doubled, shadestalker strike parties will bring the fight to the enemy, and safekeepers will ensure that every inch of Sahra’ territory is secure.

  “Unfortunately, this simply cannot be achieved with sect numbers what they are. Therefore, the council has agreed upon the need for new sects, mirroring those of the windwalker, shadestalker, and safekeeper sects. They will maintain the same honors, respects, and challenges, only they will be led by Lallas, and remain exclusive to female challengers.”

  The crowd’s reaction to this news was mixed. The majority of the cheering came from the women of the basin, but still, there were no vocal objections. Kiva’s mother had told her the new sects were coming, but the announcement was still striking to witness. She wondered to herself if it mattered whether progress stemmed from conviction, or from a practical need for survival.

  “And now,” Daivari spoke, “Let us celebrate the strength and prowess of our warriors!” The crowd again began cheering in earnest. “Let us show the Sharun, that nothing can break the Sahra’ spirit!”

  With his final words, music and drumming burst out from the crowd. The celebration had officially begun. Kiva was nearly mobbed by the safekeepers. Each of them wanting to greet her and shake her hand. They asked her questions about Noor, and expressed their wonder at her kiraeen’s ferocity.

  She was also visited by the council, who congratulated her on her accomplishments. Strangely, some of them even treated her as if she were the authority. The only one not to approach her was Councilman Elam, who had vanished from the stage soon after Daivari’s speech.

  At last, it was time for Kiva to greet her fellow windwalkers. Jonah allowed the other two to approach first, and Kiva spoke with them as quickly as possible, without being rude. They congratulated her, suggesting she lead the new sister-sect, before joining the jubilant throngs.

  Finally, she thought. It was time to greet the one person in the basin she desired to see over all others. He stepped forward and took her hands. They shared a look, then stole off together, seeking somewhere private. It proved nearly impossible, until Kiva was gifted a beautiful blue and gold headscarf by a grateful stranger in the crowd. She wrapped her head, covering her face with it, and they were able to slip away.

  They discovered an entryway with a smashed and broken door, and slipped inside. Judging by the crates and shelving, it had been used by a merchant for storage. No sooner had they closed the broken door, than Kiva felt Jonah’s hand gently caressing her face. His lips pressed against hers, tenderly at first, then with growing passion. Kiva’s blood was a firestorm. It threatened to overwhelm her at any moment.

  She gently drew back, smiling. There was still something she needed to know. “You said that once a windwalker is bonded, there is little room for much else…that you were fine with being alone.”

  Jonah took a deep breath. “You’re right, I did say that, didn’t I?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Before you, I even believed it…Listen Kiva, ever since I became a windwalker, I always just assumed it would be Zakai and Jonah to the end. I had convinced myself I was better off alone…then you came along and everything changed.” Jonah furrowed his brow, searching for the right words, then met her eyes. “Kivanya, you’re incredible.”

  Kiva looked at him with skepticism.

  “It’s true!” he insisted. “Even Zakai thinks so.” Jonah placed his hands on her arms. “Not only did you forgive the entire basin for what they did to you, but you risked your life to protect them.”

  “They are my people,” Kiva said plainly. The fact that she would protect them, whether or not they wanted her around, was simply a given.

  “You are smart, caring, beautiful, fearless...”

  Kiva smiled, raising an eyebrow. She rather liked it when he was the one putting himself out there, for a change.

  “I used to think the bond was enough,” Jonah continued, “I was wrong.”

  Kiva met his eyes in the dim light, and was left with no doubt as to his sincerity. She understood exactly what he meant. Her bond with Noor was powerful and ever-present. They shared preferences, desires, emotions…their personalities had even begun to meld. She understood how it could seem overwhelming, bringing love into the picture. Yet even with the intimate connection she shared with her kiraeen, her heart still yearned to be close to Jonah. It was so powerful an emotion, that even Noor was coming around to the idea.

  “And back in Noor’s den?” she asked. “When I kissed you?” Kiva recalled the hesitant look on his face.

  “I guess…I was scared,” he admitted, casting his eyes downward. “When my father left, I lost the only person I really cared about…it’s hard to come back from something like that.”

  “But you have,” Kiva looked up at him, drawing his gaze.

  “Yeah,” he said, wearing the same small smile that drove her crazy. “I guess I have.”

  “You guess?” she asked in mock outrage.

  “Well that, and Zakai would drop me from a thousand feet if I let you slip away…he’s quite possibly your second biggest fan.”

  “Oh yeah?” she asked. “Who’s the first?”

  He answered her with another kiss, and nothing more was said between them for a very long time.

  Afterward: To Endure

  Kivanya Fariq and Jonah Basar again found themselves breaking tradition when they became the first two windwalkers ever to wed. Jonah went on to become windwalker sidi, while Kivanya and Noor trained new female recruits under a temporary steward. Once Kivanya was of age, she too stepped into the leadership role of Lalla for the windwalker sister-sect.

  For years t
he Sharun continued their offensive, relentlessly bent on eliminating the Sahra’ from their adopted world. But the people of Madina Basin were keen of mind, and strong of will. They would endure, for they had no other choice.

  Dear reader

  Thank you for reading Windwalker. It really is very much appreciated. If you enjoyed it, I’d be extremely grateful if you could leave a short review on Amazon.

  Leave a review for Windwalker

  Thank you again.

  H.G.

  Extras

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  The Aeternum Chronicles Reading Order

  Windwalker: Forbidden Flight (Book 0.5)

  Recreance (Book 1)

  The Gathering Mask (Book 1.5)

  Vigilance (Book 2)

  Meet the Author

  Harold George Chambers is an award winning fantasy science fiction writer. He’s also a dad, a helicopter pilot, web designer, musician, and a huge board game nerd. Inspired by the great fantasy sci-fi authors of the past and present, Harold published Recreance, the first book of The Aeternum Chronicles, in 2017. The story continues with Vigilance, released early 2018. Harold makes his home in a small Canadian town on Vancouver Island with his wife and three-year-old son. To learn more about him, visit www.hgchambers.com.

  Introducing

  If you enjoyed

  WINDWALKER,

  you won’t want to miss

  RECREANCE

  Book one of the Aeternum Chronicles

  by H.G. Chambers

  1

  Curiosity

  It was a foggy, late fall day, and it was the last ordinary day Oren Hart would ever spend in New Arcadia. Deep within the colony’s residential ring, tiny dew droplets formed on the worn playground equipment in Periculum Park. The area was all but deserted, and the late day sun did little to burn off the strange fog hovering amidst the trees.