Eclipse: the Beginning

“Lady Willow?” Caleb called inside, nervously. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, warden,” the regent replied, softly. She was watching the Wingie sleep, knowing it was just a matter of time now. “Please come in. Did you find, Samuel?”

“Yes. Forgive me for taking so long.” The warden walked in, pausing his thought.

“Where is Yishmael?”

“When she regained consciousness, the young reserve said he needed to find someone and left hurriedly.” Willow looked up to see the others behind Caleb. “Who are these?”

“Lady Willow, this is Head Wingie Alma. The Wind god, Seraph. I am sure you know Captain Celestial, and the young man is Samuel, a Spirit Sage. They wish to see her before,” he stopped himself. Looking away, he backed himself against the wall to let the others inside.

“Oh, Mother!” Alma gasped at the weakened condition of the Wingie, resting her head in Willow’s lap. “Mother!”

“Go,” Seraph whispered. Placing a hand on her shoulder, the young god gave her a sad smile. “You should make your peace while you can, Lady Alma. Trust me on this.”

“Lord Seraph,” the Wingie nodded. She took the few steps more to kneel beside Willow. Her eyes looked on the tired face. She looked like she might be asleep.

“Mother? Can you hear me?”

“Alma …? Is that you …?”

“Yes,” Alma replied, smiling with relief. “It is I.”

“Why have you left the …?”

“I followed the Spirit Sage, Samuel, here to you, Mother. The warriors took over the capitol without bloodshed. We have overthrown Bog. We are free now.”

“Ah … the child inspired you as well ….”

“Yes, Mother. He is a wondrous spirit. I only wish I had come sooner.”

“No, my child. You came when you were meant to.”

“Have I led as you wished? I tried my best and followed the elders. I sought the voice of the wind just as you always taught me. Have I followed the path you desired?”

“Alma … I wished for you to find your voice …. Only you can answer that, but you have always been my daughter ... in whom I am well pleased.”

“Mother!” Alma lowered her face to hold the frail hand to her forehead. “I love you so very much! I do not wish to say farewell!”

“I love you, Alma ... with all my being … but you must trust the will of the wind.”

There was a pause as Alma wept. It was both inspiring and saddening. All the mystic had ever wanted to do was live up to her mother’s expectations. Years of self-doubt melted in moments. She would leave this cell a different woman. With the affirmation of her predecessor, she could be a Head Wingie with pride.

“Captain Celestial? Lord Seraph?” Alma spoke up once her sobs calmed. “I believe you have questions for my mother.”

“Are you sure, Lady Alma?” Seraph asked. “I don’t want to take away from the time you have left.”

“The wind has granted her this time not solely for me. Please make your peace as well.” Alma smiled back at the Wind god. “She began your journey, did she not?”

“Wait,” Willow spoke up, “are you the three from the bazaar in my region?”

“We are, Regent Willow,” Celestial replied tiredly. “Does that trouble you?”

“Not at all,” she said with a small smile. “I never thought I would meet the travelers from that report. Please, come closer. I assure you she is comfortable right now. Reserve Yishmael said she is in no pain.”

“Captain,” the old Wingie whispered. Celestial approached without a sound. “Tell me … have you left ... your shackles behind?”

“I don’t know what you mean by that, ma’am.”

“Have you remembered who you are?”

“You mean …?” the Light’s voice died in her throat. Grandmother Wingie was referring to her heritage. “You might say those two ripped them off me.” A smirk grew on her lips.

“Do not let yourself forget again …. What once was taken ... can only be lost by your choice …. Do not run from Destiny, Spirit of Light.”

“Spirit of Light?” Celestial wanted to know how she knew the title. She would have asked, but something told her Grandmother Wingie would just tell her something cryptic.

“You will understand in time ….”

Seraph looked at the curious expression on Celestial’s face. Spirit of Light had a nice sound to it. He smiled, thinking about Samuel’s description of angels in his world. He had only met one Angel in his life, but he felt the rest must pale next to her. He only wished she did not look so sad every time he glanced her way.

“Seraph,” Samuel whispered up at the god. “I think you got a bit distracted there, mate.”

“Oh! Right!” The god slumped to his knees next to Celestial. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tried to push past the nerves to ask his question. “Grandmother Wingie, you remember me, don’t you?”

“Once Saraii and now Seraph …. How could I forget you … my child?”

“You saw right through me from the beginning. Did you know I was a taboo god as well?”

“Young god … I knew there was a greatness hidden within. Your father must have vanished from this world with Lord Zion. Only he could have protected him. There was only one Wind god … after the war to survive with Lord Zion. I never met him … for he was a recluse. Lord Zion treasured him as a brother.”

“I see then,” Seraph said in a stunned voice. His father survived the Great War with Lord Zion? He wished he had asked more about him from his mother. Raphael said she knew him best.

“I’m no closer than I was before, but I’m more confused.”

“Your search has been fruitless …. Follow Destiny’s path ... and let the answers seek you.”

“Let them seek me?” Seraph blinked back at her. What did that mean? She had told him before that their quest should be his priority, but he felt obligated to find his father. His family depended on him to bring him home. How could he sit back and wait?

“How far had you gotten before Samuel …?”

“Nowhere really … actually, Samuel has opened many doors for me. Are you saying he will help me find my father?”

“Did you doubt he would?”

Seraph looked back at his friend, who was still clinging to the doorway with his bound hands. Samuel seemed just as surprised to hear this. Reflecting on their time together, the Wind realized how much Samuel had guided him. Not only into accepting who he was, but Samuel had led him from ignorance into understanding. All this time, they had called him the Nomad, but really, Seraph had been the one wandering.

“Sage?” Alma beckoned for the Nomad to come inside. “Come. You were the one to make this possible for all of us. I am sure she would want to speak to you.”

“This is my fault,” Samuel said blankly. He practically glued himself to the doorframe, afraid to approach. “I’m to blame for this. I was to be some key to saving this world, but now, two people have been hurt beyond recovery. I don’t want to keep doing this if more victims will pile behind me. I wanted to die during Bog’s interrogation. Every blow… every cry! Every bit of fear, heartache, and resolution tore into me like nothing I’ve ever known! I can’t do this! Why must it be me?!”

“Because, my child,” the Wingie spoke when Samuel stopped yelling. “You care. You think it a weakness, but it is the source of your power. Your spirit will one day embrace this suffering world … and ease the pain you see. This was not your doing. My time to return to wind has come.”

“But I don’t want you to die this way!” Samuel finally ran from the doorway to be near the elder. “You should grow old and pass peacefully, happily! I wanted you to see Aurora restored! I wanted you to be there! Like …!”

“‘Mother’…?”

Samuel paused. Standing at the Wingie’s feet, he gaped down at where she rested. Was he throwing Mother’s image onto Grandmother Wingie? Tears fell from his eyes as the truth unveiled before him. Slumping to his knees, he looked at his bound hands. Silence gripped him in his shock, even his thoughts stilled.

“You forget, Samuel, you are not alone anymore. Place faith in your guardians …. You will all need one another to complete your task. You can protect that which you wish … look at what you have begun ….”

“She’s right, you know,” Celestial said in a faraway voice. “You planned to take the capitol from Bog from the beginning. You probably didn’t tell me because I might doubt you and try to compensate. You tactfully freed an entire province, Samuel. I am impressed.”

“So am I,” Seraph added. “You’re always amazing me, Samuel. I told you I would follow you. I believe you will save Aurora. Today affirmed my faith.”

“You should take your own advice, Wind,” Celestial found her bite again. “Asking for other’s faith to believe in your own strength, pathetic babe.”

“But …” Samuel glanced at everyone present. They all seemed to think he was something to be admired. He could not understand it. “I’m just a seventeen-year-old nobody who filled in the role of a nobleman, but I have no reason to be anything of the sort. I’m only good for a laugh or a scapegoat. I’m an understudy, not a leading role. What wonder is there in that?”

“Maybe that was you on Earth, Samuel,” Celestial sighed heavily at his persistent low opinion of himself, despite the contrary evidence he had shown them.

“Here,” Seraph finished for her, “you are at the center of something that will change the world as we know it. You gave your life to save another. That kind of compassion is just what Aurora needs. It could never be easy, but let’s see this through to the end.”

“Seraph … Celestial …” he lost his voice, choking on tears and emotion. There was so much hope in this room. It drowned his doubt.

“Thank you ….”

“Samuel …” the Wingie’s voice gasped softly. She had one last thing to say. “That name … does not … suit you ….” With one last inhale, she let out her final breath.

“I am sorry we couldn’t do more,” Caleb said to the Wingie before him. “May the winds carry your spirit, Lady Mary.”

The first thing that came to Namas was the warmth of a blanket on his body. Was he in bed? Furrowing his brow, he tried to wake up. He had to know where he was.

“Peace, my lord,” Yishmael’s voice whispered to him. “Do not force yourself. You have yet to recover your strength. Would you like some water, perhaps?”

“Where am I?”

“I brought you to your room, Lord Namas. You collapsed in the hall on the way to the study. Please reserve your strength. Much has happened while you slept.”

“What do you mean?” Namas grunted. It sounded so undignified. He paused when he felt a cool, damp cloth touch his face. The emotion behind the care felt so comforting to him. He relaxed slightly. “What happened…?”

“There was an attack on the capitol by the Wingies,” Yishmael replied. He was kneeling beside the nobleman’s bed, watching closing. “They came to demand Bog’s removal from his position after he had mistreated their sister. Warden Caleb told the troops not to harm them. When they entered Bog’s throne room, they found him dead. No one knows who is responsible, yet they claim it was Darkness. I am so glad I found you, my lord. You were so cold. I thought ….”

Namas felt the healer take his hand. It lifted to reach smooth lips in a tender kiss. He could feel the desire had grown in the reserve’s spirit. From the moment he had first reached out to feel what was going through the Wind’s spirit, the mage had felt a sensation aimed at him. It had been growing increasingly over the time they had spent together. The king’s advisor would not deny the attention to his physical needs, but it felt strange to receive rather than give.

“Have you been here the entire time?”

“I did not kill Bog, if that is what you are asking,” Yishmael said with a smirk against the immortal’s hand. He felt no sense of remorse over the viceroy’s death either.

“Why do you do that?” Namas was unsure what to do with the affection. It was so vulnerable and blissful. He did not indulge in physical intimacy, so he was unsure of this feeling Yishmael had toward him.

“Am I too forward, Lord Namas?”

“Forward?”

“Yes,” Yishmael smiled against the weak hand. “I admit I feel drawn to you, Lord Namas. My desire has only grown since my attempt to heal the Wingie. Perhaps I experienced a release of learned repression from all these years in hiding. Do you wish me to cease?”

“Cease what?”

“I only wish to do all I can for you. I long to serve you. If you but order me, there is nothing I would not do for you.”

“Yishmael,” Namas opened his eyes, completely. He wanted to see the face to match the emotions he felt from the Wind. What he saw sent a chill through him. Yishmael was smiling, sweetly, with moist eyes. It was so pure that the mage felt shame in looking. Had the young Wind been weeping? For him? The glistening in his eyes seemed to convey that conclusion. Why? He did not understand why Yishmael would do that.

“Why were you weeping?”

“How did …?” the Wingie gasped. His eyes widened with surprise. After a moment or two of silence, Yishmael looked down, holding the hand against his cheek.

“I was afraid, my lord. I feared you might have left me.”

Namas felt his heart skip a beat. Did that mean what he thought it did? This feeling … this emotion … could it be love? In his life, he had never known romantic love. It was frightening, and he did not like being unnerved twice in one day. Still, unlike Samuel, Yishmael was trying to comfort him. In his weakened state, which never happened, he could use some solace. Fighting the urge to push the Wind away from him, he looked back with a serious expression.

“I feel slightly chilled,” the mage said stoically. “I will need my strength if I am to be seen in public. I will rely on you to see that happen.”

“Of course,” Yishmael felt joy fill his chest. At last, he felt the mage needed him. He could not feel happier. “My lord, might I ask something for myself?”

“What do you wish?”

“May I kiss you?”

“If that will satisfy you.”

“You say this is all, Namas?” Zemnas glanced up from the document in his hands. “The reports you give are usually more … complete.”

“Forgive me, your majesty. I truly am ashamed that this is all I have to report to you.”

“So, we have another fugitive. This dark figure who claimed the light from Bog’s body, was there no further description than their clothing?”

“There is debate as to the gender and nationality when I interviewed the Wingies and Wind soldiers. They all insisted that none of them could clearly make the culprit out. Either stun or deception, there is no denying an unknown form of magic was at work. I fear it might not be as new as we would like to believe though.”

“You mean Darkness, correct?”

“Yes, sire. As always, you have my word that I will protect you with my life.” The mage bowed low, placing his right hand over his heart in salute. He would not let one hair on the king’s body come to harm, as he had promised.

“I trust you will take all you have learned to apply to your investigation, Namas. You have not failed me,” the king smiled with gratitude at the advisor. “Tell me, though. Your report states that the three we originally pursued escaped while you were recovering. Are there any leads to their whereabouts?”

“The trail has all but run cold, King Zemnas. I have but to organize my information. I will bring them before you; of this, I swear.”

“I know you will. I ask that we capture all three alive. Their actions have left me curious as to what they hope to accomplish. I wish to know what ‘the good of Aurora’ means to Celestial and her new companions.”

Namas looked up to see a troubled expression on his king’s face. He knew the god was thinking back on the guardian god of Wind. It was difficult to not consider it. Celestial possessed Lord Zion’s blade while in the company of a Wind god. It was imperative that they learn the role their third member played. A youth who had not existed before appearing in a Western bazaar could be a herald, especially when Zemnas had collapsed around the time of his arrival. Whatever the nature of his part, Namas wanted the Spirit Sage for more personal reasons. No one had ever harmed him how that boy had. The mage had left that chat out of his report. No need to have anything associated with the Spirit Sages brought to light all these years later.

“Wind will require a new viceroy in the meantime,” Zemnas said after his thoughts quieted. “I would like Willow to replace Bog. The people of Wind love her, and from her actions in your report, I see she also loves them in return. Wisteria has often told me a leader must view their followers as family, even as their children. I believe Willow will act in Heaven’s grace to mend the broken faith Bog left in his wake.”

“She has already drafted a pardon for the rest of the regents to notarize on behalf of the Wingies, my lord,” Namas added as he stood upright once more. “I will draft the proper documents immediately. Is there anything else you wish to know?”

“No … I am pleased to see you home safely, Namas. I missed you terribly the past week. I pray this does not require you to depart Heaven again soon.”

“I too missed you, King Zemnas,” Namas replied. The two smiled at one another a moment. Breaking the eye contact, the mage motioned for someone to enter the throne room. “May I present my assistant, Yishmael of Wind, your highness. He was the Wingie living in secret under Bog who tended to me during my stay. I seek your approval in his coming to live within your home.”

Yishmael entered the room with his head bowed. Zemnas smiled even brighter, standing from his seat to approach the two. Namas blinked in surprise at the god’s reaction. The Sun god took the Wingie by the hand. Yishmael gasped as he looked back into the god’s golden eyes, awaiting the reason for such an unorthodox greeting.

“You are Yishmael,” Zemnas said in a relieved voice. He looked pleased to see the Wind. “I wish to thank you for helping Namas. He works so hard that I often worry about him. I am so glad he has someone to look after him now. As Namas and I are close, I hope we too can become acquainted in time. Again, thank you for taking care of him.”

“You humble me, my liege.” Yishmael was at a loss for words. Bog had never been this kind. Was this what gods were like? Bobbing his head nervously, he forced a smile before continuing, “It was an honor and a pleasure to serve the Great Mage. I pray I live up to your expectations, King Zemnas.”

“I see no reason why you would fall short in that task, Yishmael,” Namas spoke up. Zemnas turned to look at the mage with a fond smile. “If you will excuse us though, my lord, we have a great deal of work to begin. Perhaps we could partake in a meal together.”

“I would not object to that,” the god replied, happily. “Would you like to join us tonight, Yishmael?”

“It would honor me, my king, but I agree with Lord Namas. We have much to do before we meet with you then.”

“Oh, of course, please begin those drafts. I look forward to seeing you both.”

The advisor and assistant bowed before leaving the throne room. Namas had work on his mind as they walked back to his study. Yishmael looked back at the entrance to the throne room. His eyes narrowed as he reflected on his first meeting with the Sun god. He saw how the advisor interacted with the king, and he was less than pleased. He realized there was someone who also sought Namas’ favor. While the mage was not looking, the Wingie turned his head back around to smirk at the throne room. He muttered to himself so softly even Namas did not hear.

“Too slow, my king. Too slow ….”