Nestling

by Lupine King

  “Patriarch, you would not believe how obstinate that group was. Even though I made the Stormhawk’s wishes known to them they still dared protest. One of them even threatened me, and there was this old lady who nearly forced her way to the portal. They are probably still fighting with the guards as we speak. Grant me the permission to call some of the others and we will go back, capture them and bring them you for punishment.”

  The Patriarch stiffened, suddenly feeling the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and shake his head in frustration. “Tell me you did not go to the arena and seize him in front of everyone.”

  Sensing that something was wrong, the enthusiastic look on Steven’s face died just moments after being born. “But Patriarch, you said that the Stormhawk requested the boy’s presence”, he ventured.

  “I told you to convey the message that the Stormhawk wanted to see him not go and snatch him away from a public gathering under the eyes of thousands of people and dozens of dignitaries!” the Patriarch clarified in an angry tone.

  “Lord!” he exclaimed. “How am I going to explain this?” he added while raising his hands to shade his eyes.

  “Patriarch, I-” Steven hurried to apologise.

  “Leave!” the man commanded, even going as far as to make a shooing motion with his left hand. “I’ll think up a fitting punishment for you later.”

  Without an ounce of hesitation, Priest Steven scurried away, his tail between his legs like a chastised dog. Valerian watched him go, unable to bring himself to feel pity for the man. He had his own mounting confusion to deal with.

  “I’m guessing that it’s Clara that Steven claims is besieging the portal?” the patriarch asked him.

  “Grandmother, Uncle Richard and Avery”, he corrected.

  The patriarch swore under his breath. “And your grandfather?”

  “He and Uncle Jonas left to look for you when this started”, Valerian told him.

  The man pressed his fingers into his eyes this time before he swore. He did not have time to deal with this. ‘Argh!’ he grunted mentally. ‘Why now?’ When things were just beginning to go as planned and they had so much work on their hands. He could only imagine what the witnesses in the arena were thinking, saying,…spreading. With but a gesture, his guards appeared at his side. Swiftly, he gave them commands sending them to defuse the situation in the temple and send a message to his son before an even greater fuss was kicked up.

  “What do we do now, Uncle Adler?” the patriarch asked, addressing the high priest.

  Valerian’s mind halted for a second. The grey-haired man next to him was the patriarch’s uncle? That would make him his….? Struggling with figuring out the relationship between himself and the high priest and finally understand why large clans had resorted to using the addresses, uncle, aunt, elder and senior to simplify things, Valerian missed out on the next few exchanges between the two men in front of him.

  Once he regained his senses though, he made sure to give the high priest a quick glance to burn his image into memory. The man looked like an ordinary Steelborn albeit one who had grown old and grey. That was to say, he looked nothing like a priest and instead like a warrior. That notwithstanding, age had taken its toll on him. The muscles outlined in his robes were loose, unable to retain their tautness. His hair, now that Valerian examined it, looked more white than grey and the staff in his hands was positively ancient.

  The only thing priestly about him was the genial, serene aura he carried. That and the tranquil expression on his face. It felt like you could punch him in the face and he would still smile. He would do so sadly, in disappointment and possibly with blood stained teeth, but he would still smile with acceptance. Valerian though saw more. Something that made him wary. The secret lay in the man’s eyes. There was a hidden glint in their depths. A sharp, focused light that Valerian felt he should be able to recognise. It was the only thing that betrayed the impression of tranquil acceptance.

  “I suppose that since he is here, we might as well get it underway”, the priest noted.

  The patriarch nodded in agreement. “That is probably best.” he said and with barely a look at Valerian he added, “Come, Valerian, we’re going to the summit.”

  The summit of the mountain was nothing like Valerian thought it would be. In fact, Valerian had begun to doubt whether this setting was even that of a mountain. They stood at the very top, a place so high that the clouds circled about a hundred metres below. However, Valerian felt neither the cold nor the lightheadedness he knew should affect people at high altitudes. The air was light, rarefied but not so much so.

  Most telling of all, there was an abundance of simple greenery. Plants Valerian knew could not survive at their apparent height. The two men accompanying him ignored the inconsistency of their environment or perhaps they were already used to it. Instead, they walked forward towards a largish one-metre tall boulder. It was at least a metre wide at the base but gradually rounded out as you got to the top. Or it would have if it was not rent by the massive gashes that marred its surface.

  Before the odd boulder was a beautiful dais masterfully crafted from wind-streaked jade and essence imbued metals. Situated beside it was a large exquisite marble basin set on a pedestal so that it was of equal height to the rock. Inside the basin, was a pool of sparkling clear liquid that put off a noticeable energy signature. Energy that no doubt came from the many essence stones placed into the water. The displayed finery made the simple boulder stand out starkly making Valerian wonder why it was even there.

  “Nervous of meeting the Stormhawk?” his grandfather asked.

  “Yes!” Valerian admitted. Who wouldn’t be when meeting a deity. As a matter of fact, Valerian had been trying very hard not to think about it by focusing on the landscape instead. An effort his great-grandfather had just ruined causing the uncharacteristic jitters to rush back into his gut.

  By this time, the high priest had retrieved an ornate bowl from somewhere. It was made from titanossis and engraved with dark steel and gold leaf. With a solemn manner, he walked up to the basin and fetched a bowlful of the fluid within. Holding the bowl in his hands, he swirled its contents. Then, he knelt in front of the boulder and began to chant punctuating each line by splashing the boulder with blessed water he kept swirling in the sacred bowl.

  “Honoured Guardian, we call on you.

  Great Protector, we invite you into our midst.

  Swift are your wings and harsh is the wind that heeds your direction.

  Harken now to your people, your family, your charges.

  Great spirit, your vassals request your presence.

  Come Kuruksa’ar, we implore you.

  COME!”

  The response was immediate. The air stilled and the clouds around them surged, churning in frothy madness. Following that, a massive presence made itself known. Dark grey mist gathered over the dais. Its shade the same as storm clouds and lightning crackled in response in the distant clouds. A sharp oppressive air descended over the summit forcing Valerian’s breath from his lungs and shaking his spirit.

  Feathers. Massive grey and black feathers took shape out of the mist. Each at least seventy centimetres long. They were edged in steel so sharp they visibly sliced the air as the wings they formed beat. Then came the voice. One so thunderous it cracked the air like the aftermath of a lightning strike.

  “Summoning me again so soon, Adler? Did I not make known my wish to survey the land this morning? You had better-”

  Massive jewelled eyes flicked over to Valerian from above a viciously sharp beak, pinning him with a gaze that might as well have a been a steel wrought javelin, given how it pierced him and stopped his heart.

  “Ah! Peng child, you’re here! Good!” a wickedly pleased tone evident in its booming voice.

  Valerian had never been more scared in his life.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  When Before Your God…

  Massive eyes, like polished, pastel sapphires shone down at them, their inne
r fire setting them off with a harsh light. They peered from the sides of a cruelly hooked beak that glinted with steely sharpness. Five feathers, long and elegant, stuck up at the front of its head, rising high into the air before falling over its back to reveal exactly what its priests were poorly imitating. Its grey and black patterned feathers were beautiful to look at but their sharp edges and the clinking that they made as it moved sent a clear message as to their use.

  The Stormhawk hovered in the space above its dais not even bothering to flap its wings. This was its domain. The very air would support it even if it wished not to.

  With a wingspan far greater than its already six-metre tall body would suggest, the guardian deity of the Steelborn could only be called gigantic. As things stood, it was far bigger than Valerian could wrap his head around. This was not a matter of size. No. He had seen bigger creatures in his inherited memories. It was a matter of presence, of aura. The Stormhawk had so much of it that it crushed everything else in his vicinity.

  It was akin looking at a mountain and comprehending how minuscule one’s own existence was. Except, that a mountain did not actively put forth its presence. The Stormhawk was different. Its presence preceded it, emanating from its core as if to assert dominance over everything around it. Even before, when the spirit’s being had only just begun to coalesce in front of them, everyone on the mount, even those far below could feel it. They knew that a deity had descended. In fact, the very air shook in acknowledgement as the mighty being took form and when it appeared, things only magnified.

  Truthfully, it did not always do that. As a matter of fact, the Stormhawk seldom ever appeared in person. When it did, it was conscious enough of its own presence to reign it in when meeting people too weak to withstand it. It usually took the care to find out about such things in advance. Today, it had already made a special appearance to go over the events of the Zebre with some of the clan’s higher-ups and to be apprised of the details and progress of their plans. It was not to be summoned again so soon.

  Additionally, it was Adler who had called it. Adler was no mere high priest. He was the retired chief priest. He was one of the few who could withstand the Stormhawk’s casual aura without issue. As such, it would never bother holding back in front of him. Nevertheless, the Stormhawk would usually avoid suffocating any weaker people around. Yet, even after seeing Valerian and watching him suffer under the weight of its presence, it did no such thing. All it did was ask.

  “Do you know who I am young Valerian?”

  A trembling Valerian nodded so fast and hard that his chin struck his chest.

  “Then why do you not kneel?” it boomed.

  The wind around the mountain whipped itself into a furious frenzy at its words, developing a freezing chill that sent a touch of icy cold into all present. Knees already close to buckling from the pressure, Valerian hit the ground in supplication. His fevered mind was now noticing how both the patriarch and high priest were still bowing to their deity.

  Luckily, Valerian’s senses did not completely leave him for in the next moment he yelled, “Great spirit, your child only came to greet you. Just now, I was overawed by your majesty. PLEASE FORGIVE MY DISRESPECT!”

  He remained kneeling, not daring to look up. The freezing winds buffeted him but he ignored them because no matter how cold they got, they could not compare to the chill that clammed up his heart. It seemed that despite how he had tried to psyche himself up before meeting the Stormhawk he had still failed. Some dark portion of his mind wondered whether he would be smitten or simply cursed for his actions.

  What happened next surprised him. The weighty aura quickly faded. Not completely, but it did retract enough for Valerian to resume breathing properly once more. He could no longer feel it crushing him.

  “Good child. You are forgiven but know this. You may not kneel as you have done now before any other being. No deity, no king, no cultivator is worthy of that respect. None save myself. When the situation requires it you may bow or genuflect. Never will you kneel or prostrate yourself before another. Only I, as spirit of this clan, can dare claim such from you. Is that understood?” The spirit said to him.

  Valerian nodded fervently, not trusting himself to speak as his mind was still shaken.

  “Good!” the Stormhawk intoned before leaving Valerian to focus on the adults present. Allowing him the time to compose himself.

  Valerian had never felt anything like it. At the time, he could barely think, barely speak, barely breathe. It felt like a hill had been set upon his shoulders, slowly crushing him with its weight. Even the inborn pride that came with his peng instincts shrank away under that pressure. Was this the power of a deity?

  “You have good seed Roland”, the Stormhawk was telling his great-grandfather.

  “Another great hatchling has come our way via your line.”

  “I am merely fortunate, Lord Kuruksa’ar”, the patriarch replied with a bow.

  “Hmmn. Fortunate or not, it has happened and the clan is all the better for it. With each passing generation, I am more pleased to have joined with your clan”, it affirmed.

  “It is we who are thankful that you did, milord!” Adler was quick to pipe up. Then, continuing with a contemplative look he added, “Now that the boy is here, how are we to confirm the news?”

  Valerian’s eyes shot to the man, wondering just what was going on. The words that came from their patron’s mouth put him at ease.

  “No need. I have already done so. The boy is indeed what they say he is”, it announced.

  The priest seemed satisfied by this and returned to standing beside the boulder, only now he faced Valerian and the patriarch not the dais.

  “Do you know why you have been brought before me, Valerian?” it questioned.

  “Great one, this chid is not so informed”, Valerian quickly answered.

  “The matter is simple”, it told him. “I am Kuruksa’ar, sworn guardian and spirit of the Steelborn clan recognised as the House of Cragsveil, Lord of its people and its lands. I am the inheritor of the Menhirion’s will and people, a divine being of the fifth rank. Yet, despite all my powers and titles, I remain a stormhawk. A daemon of the sky. A bird.

  “Imagine my surprise then, when Roland came to me with news that one of his line had awoken the legacy of the KunPeng. A being that is to my kind what the Grand Boundary is to stones by the wayside”, it appended.

  “It should be possible then to imagine my curiosity and need to confirm this news for myself.

  “So what do you do say peng child? I have already examined the essence within you. Would you now show me this fabled form of yours?”

  Valerian listened to the deity speak, understanding that while it may have phrased its words as a request, it was giving him a command. He hastened to comply.

  A thick essence burst from his pores, rising to cover his body, like flames. His flesh twitched visibly as the changes begun. Bright spikes burst from his joints and his hair turned into metallic bristles. His nails elongated into talons that would not be out of place on a raptor. The remaining essence gathered behind his shoulder blades to solidify into the massive golden wings of his full form. A tail made of freely flowing essence accompanied it, forming a fan of soft feathers that extended from his tailbone. Finally, his aura changed and he begun to exude his own presence.

  The aura of a top predator spread from him, sending danger signals that were only ignored because the people next to him had nothing to fear. What’s more, the fear, nervousness and apprehension that previously affected Valerian faded away. Replacing it was the sort of easy arrogance that came with knowing you sat at the top of the food chain. It would be hard to reconcile the Valerian from before with the one in front of them now. This being with the aura of a king, the eyes of a hunter and the form of daemon.

  The two humans present watched with eyes peeled, not wanting to miss anything. They were not disappointed. Even the Stormhawk after taking it all in could not help but exclaim.

&
nbsp; “Good! Excellent!”

  Valerian looked at the being in front of him through the eyes of his true form. The overwhelmingly paralysing nature of his fear had left him, replaced by the increased wariness that had taken root. The gap between them was not so simple. As a matter of fact, it was even clearer now that he was far out its league. Forget the Stormhawk. Even High Priest Adler would be able to kill him without much trouble. The urge to flee, to retreat to a safe distance filled his gut but, he chose to ignore it. The peng in him knew. Despite his innate superiority over all the creatures in front of him, he was no match for them.

  The chicks of eagles were regularly picked off and eaten by lesser birds like crows and vultures. Should any of the people around him wish it. He would perish. It was good he did nothing because the voice of the stormhawk rang out again, buffeting the entire mountain top with its bass.

  “I wonder little chick, what it must be like in your head right now. The aura of this form shields you somewhat from me and I am not so cruel as to tear into the mind of one of my own. I have so many questions but answer first this one”, it began.

  “Do you truly believe yourself to be a peng?”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  A Legacy In Doubt

  “Do you truly believe yourself to be a peng?”

  The question rang in Valerian’s mind. For reasons he could not understand, it set alarm bells ringing. There had to be a reason behind the Stormhawk’s enquiry but at the same time he considered it a dumb question. It was obvious, was it not? He was a golden winged peng! So, why ask? What left his lips though was something different.

  “My Lord Kuruksa’ar, I am afraid I do not follow”.

  “The question is simple hatchling. Do you believe yourself to be an actual peng?” The Stormhawk asked, an unknown tone in its voice.