Chapter Text
Tibarn wasn’t aware of how long he had been asleep when he woke. It was bright outside, sunlight was pouring in through the open ceiling of the room. Tibarn blinked, narrowing his eyes. The walls were built out of a golden-hued white stone, and there were eaves built up around the edges of the room, but there was no ceiling. The floors were made of a loosely packed stone with grasses growing between them.
It felt peaceful, he was more at ease than he had ever felt before in his life. Janaff and Ulki were lying in cots in the room with him, still fast asleep.
Tibarn got out of the bed and rubbed his face briefly. He walked out of the room and meandered around the wide hallways, which were completely open above. There were large trees growing in the center of some of the rooms he passed by.
In the distance, he heard singing, but he couldn’t really discern the tune of the song. It was pleasant and melodic, whatever it was.
“You…are awake,” a woman’s voice called out from behind Tibarn.
Tibarn whirled around and looked at the heron woman who had spoken to him. It was the older woman he had seen before. Locks of strawberry blonde hair at the sides of her face were braided and looped behind her head. She smiled at Tibarn, light blue eyes twinkling lightly.
“Hello. I’m Prince Tibarn of Phoenicis,” Tibarn said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Yes…Naesala explained everything…once you were settled. I am Queen Rheanna. Thank you…for helping to save my children.”
“How long was I asleep?”
“You came back…yesterday.”
“Are the ravens still here?”
“Naesala…woke…this morning…the others are…resting. Would you…like to eat?”
Tibarn’s stomach growled in response. “Er, yeah, we didn’t have much time to eat while we were gone.”
Rheanna nodded and motioned for Tibarn to follow her. They walked down a few hallways and into a dining hall of a kind. The furniture was made of an ashen white wood that was lightly polished. Rheanna looked at Tibarn with a smile. “Sit, please.”
Tibarn sat down at a chair at the side of the table. Rheanna disappeared into a room beyond a doorway, returning shortly with a fine clay plate piled high with nuts, berries, cut fruits, and a pastry that had a nut butter on it and a tall crystal glass filled with clear water.
Tibarn looked up at her. “Thank you,” he said, looking down at the plate curiously for a moment. Where was the meat?
Rheanna nodded. “There is…no meat…because we do not hunt…it is forbidden.”
Tibarn looked back up at her in shock. “I-”
Rheanna smiled gently at Tibarn. “We herons…can…sense these things.”
Tibarn nodded. “Thank you for the food,” he said, before going to eat.
“No…thank you…for my children.”
---
When Tibarn finished with his food he decided to walk around the forest outside of the building, which Rheanna had told him was the Sacred Temple of Serenes, he guessed it was the equivalent of the castle or capital of the herons’ home.
Naesala’s voice cut through the woods. “Cut it out, Leanne,” he said sternly but it sounded fake, almost like he was fighting back laughter.
Tibarn looked around and spotted Naesala resting underneath a tree. Leanne was by him, trying to braid flowers into the ponytail of his long blue hair. Naesala pulled his hair out of her hands and draped it over his other shoulder. Leanne pouted.
There was faint laughter near Naesala. Reyson sat in a branch over them both, grinning down at the raven. “(You’ll have to do more to stop her, you know.)” He said with a small smile. Leanne moved over to Naesala’s other side.
Naesala waved a hand at Reyson dismissively. “Eh, she’ll get tired eventually.”
“(Do you know Leanne at all?)”
Naesala snickered. “She’s as stubborn as you, but it’s fine.”
“(I am not stubborn.)” Leanne pouted at Naesala.
Both Naesala and Reyson laughed at her. Reyson’s laughter faded as a new song sounded in the distance. He frowned and looked over his shoulder.
"They'll be fine," Naesala said quickly.
Reyson sighed heavily. "(I know. I simply wish I was able to help as well.)"
"You already did your part, Reyson," Naesala said, plucking a flower from Leanne's hands tossing it in her face.
Leanne made a face at Naesala.
"(Let's go deeper into the woods.)" Reyson leapt down from the tree, but the tip of his wings caught on the branch and he fell face first towards the ground. There was a blur of black and the next moment, Naesala was holding Reyson up mid-air with his right arm.
A moment later, Reyson landed gently on the ground, Naesala landing a few feet from him.
"Look, Reyson, you did enough," Naesala said firmly.
"(Enough?!)" Reyson retorted angrily, glaring at Naesala. "(I couldn't even fly to Kilvas on my own! You had to risk your life to save me, and then you had to carry me back to Serenes because I was too weak to fly back!)" He turned his head to the side and inhaled sharply, closing his eyes. "(And now I'm still too weak to help them recover from what was done to them or even move about the woods like normal.)"
Leanne stared up at Reyson in concern, tears in her eyes as Naesala silently gazed at Reyson, his wings folding tighter against his back.
"Reyson-"
"(Please. Don't patronize me. I can’t bear it.)"
"I wasn’t going to. You know how serious that storm was, don't you? Very few of the bird tribes would risk crossing the ocean with a storm like that on the horizon. It was stupid, and reckless, sure, nearly got you killed, and you were lucky Rada saw you so she could tell me, but it was brave too."
Reyson blinked and looked at Naesala. "(Brave?)" He asked softly.
Naesala nodded. "Yeah. You risked your life for your family. It takes a lot of courage to do something like that, and not everyone would. So just, go easy on yourself, okay? Without you taking that risk, I might not have been able to save them, and the others wouldn't be able to do what they're doing now."
Reyson nodded. "(Thank you,)" he whispered in a harsh, broken, voice.
Tibarn stepped back and walked out loudly through the forest. Naesala turned around and looked over at Tibarn, face more stern than it had been while he had talked to the heron siblings alone. Leanne and Reyson looked over at Tibarn with curious expressions.
“Ah, Prince Tibarn,” Naesala called out.
Tibarn waved a hand awkwardly up at them. “Good morning,” Tibarn said. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Prince Reyson.”
Reyson nodded. “(Thank you for helping get my siblings back.)”
Tibarn was stymied until Naesala translated. “Yes, of course. I’m glad we were able to rescue them safely.”
“I’m just surprised you did what we asked,” Naesala said, “Hawks never listen to the plans of ravens.”
Tibarn was silent for a moment. “Well, you seemed to know what you were doing, and you put yourself in harm's way to get what you needed. I won’t pretend I understand why you handled it the way you did, or that I’d have done things similarly on my own, but it seemed easier to work with you.”
“Ah, there’s that noble pride of hawks," Naesala jeered and then shrugged, "But you greatly expedited rescuing the twins, so I guess I’ll give you credit for that.”
“(You already did when you explained things to us before,)” Reyson interjected, looking over at Naesala.
“And I'm sure Prince Tibarn appreciates knowing that I told King Lorazieh the truth,” Naesala called back over his shoulder to Reyson.
"(Why would he think that you would lie about it?)"
"Don't worry about it, Reyson. The divide between hawks and ravens is pretty expansive."
"It's not that bad," Tibarn said.
Naesala scoffed. "I guess you were a lot more flexible than other hawks I've dealt with. We'll see if it lasts past you being made king, whenever that day comes."
"You could be more flexible too," Tibarn retorted.
"And here I already was, making a plan that would keep that warrior's pride of yours burning a little longer just to keep you from looking like you had been presented with rotten food when we rescued the herons without any fighting," Naesala said grandly and then grinned, leaning against the tree. "It's not my problem you can't recognize what I was doing."
Tibarn studied Naesala for a moment. "You wouldn't have fought the guards?"
"I'd have used a distraction and snuck in to get them out, but you and Janaff had been so useful that I figured I'd throw you a branch."
"How can you call yourself a king if you don't fight?"
"I fight when it's needed," Naesala spat out defensively and then sighed, cocking his head to the side. "Ah, but, see, that's really the difference between our people, Prince Tibarn. Anyway, you should figure out what you're doing with the hawk slaves we freed."
"They're coming back with us."
"I figured that much, but, ah, you'll see when you talk to them. I just hope for their sake you can be more understanding to them than you are of us ravens."
Tibarn's eyes narrowed.
“Anyway, I’m going to go check on my people,” Naesala said, flying up into the air and moving away.
Tibarn looked over at Reyson, who seemed upset. Leanne pouted, playing with the stems of the flowers she had been trying to put in Naesala’s hair.
“I’m sorry,” Tibarn said.
Reyson shook his head and waved dismissively at Tibarn. “(He’s always been this way,)” he spoke brusquely.
Tibarn cleared his throat. “I'm sorry, I don’t really understand what you’re saying.”
Reyson huffed and then chuckled softly with a slight nod. “(I can tell.)”
“How are your brother and sister doing?” Tibarn asked awkwardly after a few moments.
Reyson considered for a moment and then nodded. “(Well enough. Come with me.)” He flew up into the air and gestured at Tibarn. Tibarn flew up into the air, following Reyson, and Leanne followed them. It took them only a few minutes to arrive wherever Reyson was taking him. The sound of singing grew louder as they flew, and then Reyson dropped down through the forest canopy.
They were by a wide altar made out of white stone that was built on top of a marbled platform on a rocky outcropping in the forest. Lorelle and Rosaire were lying unconscious in front of the altar. There were four herons standing by the altar, singing. Lorazieh, Rafiel, Laila, and another one in the family.
Tibarn studied them for a moment. Lorazieh was wearing a stiff white tunic with a high neck and long sleeves with golden threads that went to his knees, a white pair of stiff pants under the tunic, and light gray boots. Rosaire was wearing a fresh white tunic that hung down around his thighs, a dark blue sash wrapped around his waist, white leggings and knee-high dark blue boots. Lorelle wore a white dress that had light blue panels at the sides from the bodice to the bottom hems. The fourth heron singing was a woman with long, wavy, blonde hair that was loose around her shoulders, she wore a white dress with light green embroidery of flowers around her waist and down the skirt of the dress.
There was a glowing blue light around the bodies of Lorelle and Rosaire. Tibarn watched, entranced. Reyson joined in with the others, and the blue light grew brighter.
The song continued for several minutes, and the wounds on their bodies began to close, even the scars slowly disappeared, downy feathers growing back in on their wings.
Leanne whispered the song as she stood next to Tibarn.
When the herons finished singing, the twins didn’t seem to be whole, but they were almost fully healed. Their skin was sickly pale, with dark rings under their eyes, and they were clearly drenched in sweat.
Lorazieh, Rafiel, Laila, Lillia, and Reyson walked over to the twins and examined them. Laila put a hand on Rosaire’s forehead and grimaced.
“(It will take a few more days, I’m afraid,)” Lorazieh said grimly.
“What’s wrong with them?” Tibarn asked.
Rafiel looked over at Tibarn. “They’re unwell from the negative energy they were subjected to while being held. It will take some time to purge it from their bodies.”
“Negative energy? You mentioned that before. I don’t really understand what that means.”
Rafiel looked back at the others. “(Do you mind if I take Prince Tibarn and answer his questions elsewhere?)”
Lorazieh shook his head. “(Go ahead. Reyson can help us in your stead since he insists that he's feeling well enough.)”
“Come with me,” Rafiel said, gesturing to Tibarn to follow him off of the platform and into the woods. Tibarn followed. Rafiel walked through the woods, brushing his fingers against the trunks of trees and passing over bushes as they moved. Tibarn watched as the forest responded to Rafiel, small branches growing out of the trunks or flowers blooming in foliage. “We herons are creatures of balance and order, and so we are sensitive to the chaos and negative energy that most other laguz thrive upon,” Rafiel said, turning his head to look Tibarn in the eye. “Outside of Serenes, almost everything radiates chaotic energies, even the buildings themselves.”
“I think I heard Naesala say something like that earlier.”
Rafiel nodded. “Naesala is aware of how easily we are overwhelmed by chaotic energy.”
“So, you said the forest where your siblings were attacked was too thick with negative energy earlier? That’s what you meant?”
“Yes, I’d gone to that area of the forest, to see what the trees could tell me of what had happened, but I couldn’t approach,” Rafiel said softly. “What chaotic energy the beorc had generated when they attacked Rosaire and Lorelle, and brought with them after fighting the ravens guarding the forest, poisoned the area. It will take many weeks to clear and become a space we can enter again. The conditions Rosaire and Lorelle were held in inundated their bodies with chaotic energy, and it has made them ill and weak.”
“I’ve heard the herons have magic, so you were healing them, right?”
Rafiel nodded. “We’re healing their bodies and restoring balance within them using our galdrar, but the chaos poisoning them makes it difficult for us to help them.”
“I’m sorry they’re going through that,” Tibarn said, “Will they fully recover?”
Rafiel nodded, a pained and saddened look on his face. “They will, given time. It’s good that they were brought back so quickly.” Rafiel stopped walking and Tibarn turned to face the heron prince. “And thank you,” Rafiel whispered gently, “For helping to save Reyson from the sea.”
“Oh, it wasn’t a problem. Naesala did most of the work, anyway.”
Rafiel smiled and nodded. “Nealuchi told us what you said.”
“The old crow?”
Rafiel laughed. “Yes, he wanted to check in on Reyson, he arrived that evening.”
“I didn’t realize he cared so much.”
“Nealuchi is an old friend of the herons,” Rafiel said. “Before he settled in Kilvas, he helped my father establish Serenes as a sovereign nation, outside of the control of Begnion.”
Tibarn blinked, shocked. “I had no idea.”
“Even though the world has shrunk considerably since the Great Flood, there is still much to learn of its secrets and history. I think we all could do well by learning more about others, yes?”
“I couldn't agree more.”
“Yes, you have a curious and compassionate heart, Prince Tibarn. I hope that we will see more of you over the years to come.”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’d enjoy visiting when I have the time available.”
“That’s wonderful to hear,” Rafiel said pleasantly. “Of course, you would have to agree to keep the chaos to a minimum, there is no fighting and no hunting within Serenes Forest.”
---
Naesala flew in through a balcony into one of the many villas belonging to house Gaddos three weeks after saving Rosaire and Lorelle from the auction. The summons had been unusual in its delivery, a command to come to this location, from Urbain, Duke of Gaddos and the current Prime Minister of Begnion. The summons put him on edge, even now his heart pounded in his throat and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He had decided against bringing anyone with him.
He preferred to be the only one the senators could talk to about business. Less chance of any conversation going sideways when he was the only one there to ask questions of.
He relaxed his shoulders and smoothed his brows, adopting a suave and pleasant expression as he came into the light and the human guards with Urbain noticed him. He remained that way, even as they glared at him and tightened their hold on their weapons.
“Duke Urbain, the sub-human crow king is here,” one of the guards said, turning towards an overlarge chair facing a fireplace.
The mark of the blood pact on the inside of Naesala’s left wrist itched fiercely, even though it was tightly bound by black cloth hidden under his long black sleeves. He hadn’t done anything against the agreement. He’d managed to get the previous Prime Minister, Duke Wenzel of Asmin, to agree to a clean slate, none of the commands given to Naesala’s predecessor, King Moloch, counted any longer.
And there was nothing against him freeing other laguz slaves, generally, just the ones who belonged to the sainted. So, they couldn’t do anything to Kilvas, right?
Freeing the other slaves had been such quickly made decision. He’d only done it to keep Tibarn from delaying their escape as much as possible. It’d been nagging at him since. The sainted had been invited to the auction. What if he had freed a slave they intended to buy? Did that count?
Zlatan had assured him they couldn’t have known about the herons, the invitation had only mentioned a rare and exotic pair of slaves for purchase. It was safe to rescue the twins, they had reasoned. But the other slaves?
Naesala wasn’t sure. It took all his energy not to grit his teeth.
How did this accursed magic work to begin with? What were the rules? There had to be rules, right?
“Duke Urbain,” Naesala called out coolly and haughtily, and paused for a moment as Urbain stuck a hand out and waved at Naesala.
“Approach,” Urbain commanded.
Naesala walked closer to Urbain and stood a few feet from the senator. Urbain turned his head to scrutinize Naesala.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Duke Gaddos,” Naesala said, feigning appearing and sounding aloof despite how his heart trembled. “Your message sounded quite urgent, you must have something big for us?”
Urbain turned his head to look at the fireplace.
“I hear you snuck into an auction house I patron quite frequently recently and freed the laguz being put up for sale there,” Urbain said, his tone sharp.
“Ah, yes, that-”
“I had been told there was supposed to be something quite exotic there, you must imagine my surprise when I arrived and there was nothing, not even a miserable cat sub-human to replace my older and more worthless workers.”
“Yes, of course, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“What was it?” Urbain asked as he looked up at Naesala. “What possessed you to do such a thing?”
“You know I’m the Protector of Serenes Forest, right?” Naesala asked. “Your predecessors quite liked knowing that the forest and the herons, the messengers of the goddess, were being kept safe from harm.”
“Yes, I know, I have to pay you that damned retainer every month for it."
"Exactly."
Urbain’s eyes narrowed. "Go on.”
“The people running that favorite auction house of yours snuck into the forest, damaged it, and took two members of the royal family of Serenes, descendants of Saint Lehran, and had them caged up there. Those were the exotic slaves they had promised you. You must know how frail and delicate herons are, so I had to act quickly to protect them.”
Urbain scoffed. “And for that, you freed all the others?”
“It wasn’t my decision. The issue had been complicated by Prince Tibarn of Phoencis insisting on tagging along with me. The hawks call the herons their sacred brothers or whatever. He wasn’t going to let me leave with the herons without freeing the others, since they were all in the same room.”
Urbain looked back at the fireplace, settling back into his chair. Naesala watched the senator, trying not to betray how tense he was, as the fire burned and the wood inside cracked and popped as the flames consumed the fuel.
“Common slaves are easy to come by. I’m sure they can restock without issue, and it’s important that we not trespass against those related to the goddess’s first servant,” Urbain mused aloud. Naesala didn’t dare relax. “However, I was promised the first chance at something no one else would have, and I want that.”
“I’m certain we can find you something more suitable to your station as a faithful servant of the goddess,” Naesala said.
Urbain considered for a long moment. “How about a dragon?”
“A dragon?!” Naesala couldn’t help but start, panicked at the idea of making an enemy of Goldoa, wings spreading out behind him and feathers puffing up on his wings. Urbain looked up at Naesala curiously. Naesala cleared his throat and folded his wings against his back again. “Er, what I mean to say is that they’re quite powerful, and the old songs say children are born rarely so the odds of us being able to find a dragon young enough to not be able to fight back in your lifetime is unlikely. I think that it would go poorly for you if we managed to bring in an adult, just think of the devastation one could cause to your mansion if they transformed and used their breath.”
“Hm,” Urbain mused for a moment. “You have a point, very well, something else. Something that the others won’t have.”
Naesala took a breath.
A smile crossed Urbain’s face. “Ah, yes, the last of the lions escaped to that goddess forsaken forest kingdom over sixty years ago. You can manage a lion for me, can’t you, Raven King?”
Naesala nodded. “A lion will be a little harder than normal, but I can handle it. Give me twelve months so I can scout out Gallia without suspicion.”
Urbain nodded. “Then I believe the matter is resolved, but do try to keep this hawk prince out of your business in the future. Such complications don’t bode well for your barren kingdom.”
“Of course,” Naesala said, “Now, then, you know how poor my memory is for all the requests you give me.”
“Ah, yes,” Urbain said, and he stood up. “I always forget, you seem to be so clever when we speak.”
“It’s just how we sub-humans are, out of sight, out of mind, I’m afraid,” Naesala said with a shrug as he followed Urbain. “Just the price we pay for not being blessed with wisdom like you humans are.”
Urbain sat down at the desk and began writing. “It is such a wonder that you sub-humans never burn your kingdoms to the ground. You’d do so much better with human masters, don’t you agree?”
“Ah, a wonder indeed,” Naesala said, “But that’s why we of Kilvas have this arrangement with you, I suppose.”
“Quite right,” Urbain said, “It’s wonderful you understand your place in the world, Raven King. Would that other sub-humans could accept their lot in life.”
“Of course.”
Urbain turned and handed the parchment to Naesala. He took the order slip and turned it to the light of the fire so he could read it better.
A request for Naesala, King of Kilvas: In order to settle the account of the auction house funded by house Gaddos, you will bring to me no later than the first of September of the year 595 in the Begnion Era: a male lion that is still in his prime and in good health. Upon receipt of this specimen, I will consider the matter closed and pay you 5,000 gold - Urbain, Duke of Gaddos, Prime Minister of the Begnion Empire
Naesala looked up at Urbain and nodded, folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Prime Minister, as always. Just let me know if there’s anything else you need of Kilvas in the meantime.”
“Of course, your highness,” Urbain said, “You may go now. I don’t care to have laguz in my chambers after sunset.”
Naesala nodded. “Have a nice evening,” Naesala said, flying out of the window and back towards Kilvas.
The slip felt like an iron weight on his chest, even as he transformed.
The future of Kilvas, Rosaire, Lorelle, a half of a dozen ravens, and all the other slaves he had freed was worth condemning one lion for, wasn’t it?