Chapter Text
-Begnion Era, 594, Late Summer-
Treacherous.
That was what King Elil had said about the ravens of Kilvas. They were self-serving and cunning. It had been best for Phoenicis that the ravens had left on their own to form Kilvas. The bird tribes were brothers, but the ravens were the black sheep of the family, best avoided as much as possible, such were the teachings of the elders of Phoenicis.
Despite that, the ravens were always intruding upon Phoenician borders, and a constant headache for the hawks to deal with. King Elil had decided it was time that Tibarn began to learn how to deal with the treacherous crows of Kilvas, and so Tibarn had come to Kilvas with Janaff and Ulki to get a better understanding of them and make sure they would respect the borders going forward. The storm looming in the eastern horizon had not deterred them at all in the time it had taken them to get to Kilvas from Phoenicis.
Dangerous.
That's what Tibarn thought when he stood before the king of ravens in the throne room of Kilvas Castle. He had a hardened face, and a focused, piercing gaze. The smug, sneering grin on his face didn't match the cold, calculating stare of his dark eyes. The black wings of the ravens were said to be an ill omen, and he had them spread out wide behind his back, leaning back casually in his throne, one arm propping his head up and one leg crossed over the other.
All this, despite the fact that the raven king was clearly many years younger than Tibarn. Janaff and Ulki stood behind Tibarn, and he wondered if they felt the same, for how tense they were.
There were a dozen other ravens in the room, all older than Tibarn was, looking at the hawks.
The corner of the raven king's mouth pulled up, widening the grin on his face for a brief moment before he spoke.
"Prince Tibarn, right?" The king asked.
"That's right."
"I guess King Elil finally got tired of coming here to yell at me." The raven leaned back in his throne further. "Let's hope you tire of the task just as quickly."
"We wouldn't have to keep coming here if you would stick to your waters," Tibarn said.
The raven king chuckled. "How does a country own the ocean? If you could answer that for me, I'd be happier to agree to do such a thing."
Tibarn narrowed his eyes.
The raven king raised his right hand and gestured vaguely in the air. "Land, of course, I understand. You need land for your people to live upon, land for your food to grow in. Wanting no intrusion upon the skies over your land I can also understand. Even the waters within sight of the tallest cliffs of your country I could and do grant you. But the ocean beyond the horizon? Did the goddess say that all the seas belong to the birds of the air? I must have missed that teaching in the old songs, so please, enlighten me to it."
Tibarn scowled at the raven, folding his arms across his chest.
The raven king sat forwards in his chair, left arm supporting his weight on his knee, right hand gesturing towards Tibarn. " Do you care to educate me, Prince Tibarn? Perhaps you can answer this question where King Elil has never been about to." After a moment, the raven grinned widely. "No, I don’t think you can provide a satisfactory answer either because there’s none to give."
Tibarn's eye twitched and he sighed. "How about we introduce ourselves first?"
The raven king chuckled. "Oddly polite for a hawk, but there's no need. You're Prince Tibarn, and the other two must then be your partners , Janaff and Ulki." The raven king pointed almost lazily at each of them as he spoke their names, sneering as he did so. Janaff bristled next to Tibarn.
"They're my friends, yes."
The raven king waved his hand dismissively. "Your left and right hand, I know. I've heard about their talents for seeing and hearing. They'll be quite useful to you once you take over as the Hawk King of Phoenicis."
Tibarn stared at the raven for a moment, wondering if he would bother to introduce himself or anyone else in the room.
The raven king scoffed and smiled widely. "Oh, King Elil didn't even tell you my name? How lacking is the education of Phoenicis that you do not know even your neighbor's ruler?" He sat back in his throne. Tibarn's intuition had been right. The raven king was certainly dangerous and cunning. And yet, Tibarn had never wanted to punch someone’s smug face so much before in his life. “I didn’t realize you were as isolated as the dragons of Goldoa, though perhaps that’s why you hate having us so close to your land?”
“We’re not like the dragons,” Tibarn grunted through gritted teeth. The dragons had turned their backs on all the other laguz when Begnion had put chains around them. The hawks would never abide by the slavery the humans practiced.
"No? Well, then, I’m afraid we’re still at an impasse,” The raven king said in a broadly condescending voice. “Though that was a pretty clever attempt to learn my name without tipping me off. I'll give you that." The raven king chuckled. "You can go back and tell King Elil I've heard your complaints, but my response is the same as always-"
At that moment there was a bright flash of light and the loud crack of thunder that followed immediately after, filling the room, cutting the raven king off.
They all looked out the wide open windows and saw the rain pouring down from dark storm clouds. Some drops trickled inside, spritzing Tibarn's face and bare arms from the fierce winds that howled outside.
The raven king looked back over at Tibarn and sighed before standing up. "I guess you'll have to stay a bit longer. I'll have some quarters prepared for you and your friends."
"Why?"
The raven king shrugged. "You hawks may be strong fliers, but you should know better than to fly around in a storm like this, right?"
Tibarn looked outside again and then nodded.
"It's going to last a while," Janaff said, looking off into the distance outside of the southern windows. “It’s only a little faster than we thought before as we were flying in.”
"And I'm not having King Elil blame me for your deaths, so you're staying until it's over." The raven king paused and shrugged nonchalantly and then added, "Sorry we couldn't divide the drops of water in the ocean fast enough for you to speed home ahead of the storm. I'm sure you were hoping for a very impressive return from your first visit to Kilvas," in a voice dripping with cynicism.
"Fine." Tibarn relented. Even if he could probably make it back to Phoenicis were the need pressing enough, Janaff and Ulki couldn't. Besides, this would give him more time to try and understand the ravens; though he wasn’t sure much good, if any, would come of it, based on how the king was acting.
"Good, so then-"
"Naesala!" A girl's voice called out and a young raven flew into the throne room through the open window. She looked to be maybe a few decades younger than Naesala, like she was barely old enough to maintain the transformed state she had flown in using, and soaked through, her long black hair disheveled and clinging to her body.
"Rada," the raven king said, bending over to examine her as she landed on the ground in front of him. "I told you how dangerous it can be when the clouds are that dark, why were you outside?"
"I was coming back in when the winds picked up, but then I saw a heron flying towards Kilvas!"
"A heron?!" Naesala started.
Rada nodded. "I think it was one of the princes! But the wind started blowing against the cliffs and he wasn't able to fight against the winds that well!"
Naesala blanched. He looked over his shoulder to another raven. "Nealuchi," Naesala said, slightly pushing Rada towards the other, much older, raven, and then Naesala was flying out of the window, transformed, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
"A heron?" Tibarn asked.
The raven named Nealuchi looked shaken, and took a moment to respond. "We've been protecting the herons of Serenes from human harm for just about thirty years now. King Naesala is a close friend with the youngest prince and princess. But for one to fly to Kilvas alone?" He looked down at Rada. "You're sure you saw one?"
Rada nodded. "Bright golden hair, white wings, white clothes."
Ulki nudged Tibarn. Tibarn turned to look at Ulki and he bent forward to whisper in Tibarn's ear. "I do hear a member of the bird tribe struggling in the ocean by the cliffs, Tibarn."
"Where?" Tibarn asked quietly.
"To the north of us, six degrees to the east of where we are now. The wind striking the cliffs would be impossible for any but the strongest hawks to navigate."
Tibarn considered for only a moment. "I'm going," he announced loudly.
"Are you sure?" Ulki asked.
"Yes, the herons are our brethren in the bird tribe, as the ravens are as well. I can't stand here and let a heron prince die, or the raven king in the attempt to save him. You and Janaff stay here, it's too dangerous for you both."
"Fine, just don't die yourself, Tibarn. I'm not explaining it to King Elil," Janaff quipped.
Tibarn chuckled and nodded. "Thanks for the concern, Janaff."
He turned and flew off, transforming as he broke out into the stormy skies consuming Kilvas. He turned in the direction that Ulki had pointed out and flew against the strong winds rolling throughout the high peaks and valleys of the mountains of Kilvas. He flew higher to avoid the jagged mountains and came to the edge of the island. He saw Naesala over the edge of the cliffs, looking down, turned back into a humanoid state. It was easy to understand why, with the clouds as heavy and dark as they were, it was as dark as the twilight that lingered after sunset, and their humanoid form had better vision.
As Tibarn approached Naesala, the raven king transformed again, pulling his wings tight against his body and diving down towards the ocean. Tibarn turned into his humanoid form as he flew out over the ocean and surveyed the scene.
Down in the ocean was a bright white speck, almost glowing brilliantly in the black of the waves crashing against the craggy cliffs. The white speck was tossed against the cliffs again and again, resurfacing only for a moment before being thrown forward by another wave. Naesala was an inky black figure, hard to follow in the shadows cast by the storm raging around them. The winds blowing against the cliffs and then causing updrafts and downdrafts were almost visible to Tibarn, as accustomed as he was to navigating the skies, and Naesala navigated them with apparent ease, pulling out a wing a little here or there to dance around the winds. Tibarn needed a few more moments to work out the pattern himself.
Not that hovering in place to study it was easy, with the winds trying to toss him around.
By the time Naesala had reached the bottom, the white speck had completely disappeared beneath the ocean’s surface. Naesala, too, disappeared into the seas almost seamlessly with only a small splash that Tibarn barely made out.
Tibarn watched uneasily, unsure of what to do if they didn’t surface again. He was a perfectly fine swimmer if he had to, but he wouldn’t be able to see to save his own life in this darkness, let alone theirs. A moment passed, and then another, lightning striking the ocean and lands around him.
Then the white speck appeared again, several miles away from the cliffs. Tibarn darted over, making out Naesala carrying the white heron, struggling to keep them both aloft amongst the swells. Tibarn himself would find it nearly impossible to take flight from the churning seas, let alone having to carry someone out of the ocean.
Naesala tried to take off, but was slammed by a breaking wave and forced under, rising a little later.
“King Naesala!” Tibarn called out when he was almost right on top of them. Naesala craned his head around to look up at Tibarn. Tibarn held out a hand and Naesala looked around, as well at the heron he held, before throwing up his free hand as the crest of a wave pushed him upwards. Naesala’s fingers brushed against Tibarn’s palm and Tibarn closed his hand tightly, yanking them all upwards with several beats of his wings.
Once they were safely out of the way of any future waves, Tibarn let go of Naesala’s hand. Naesala tilted his head while panting, indicating for Tibarn to follow and led him towards an opening carved into the sides of the cliffs, navigating between the drafts. They both dropped heavily to the ground once inside, Naesala snatching a torch from a sconce in the wall and striking it against a flint stone. The torch roared to life and Naesala tossed it at Tibarn, who caught it mid air and held it up as Naesala dropped the heron down onto the ground on his back. The heron was cut and bleeding, with, what looked like to Tibarn, a few broken bones.
Naesala knelt on the ground by the heron, the long feathers of his white wing crushed beneath Naesala’s knees. The raven king twisted his body to press his ear against the heron’s chest and then snapped up to kneel over the heron. Naesala’s hands were pressed against each other and then swiftly pressed against the heron’s lower chest, up and down, in a quick pattern. The heron retched, water gurgling from his mouth.
Naesala pulled back, turning the heron’s head to the side, and the heron began to cough as the water spurted out of his mouth. He looked up and around, pale green eyes glinting in the torchlight like fine gemstones as he briefly caught Tibarn’s gaze and then his eyes moved around, finally looking up at Naesala.
“(Naesala,)” the heron said weakly in a rough voice.
“(Hold on, Reyson. I need you to drink this first,)” Naesala responded, using his right hand to pull a vial out of a pocket on his leg that was filled with a light blue liquid. He unstopped the vial and used his left arm to raise the heron up. Naesala lifted the mouth of the vial to the heron’s lips, and the heron raised a weak, trembling hand, placing it on the vial before raising it up. Once a third of the liquid had been tipped into the heron’s mouth, Naesala pulled the vial back.
The heron winced, but his wounds closed and bones mended. He coughed a little and grimaced, looking up at Naesala with desperation in his eyes. The heron lurched forwards, tightly grasping Naesala’s arm.
“(Naesala, please! Rosaire and Lorelle have been taken!)” He leaned towards Naesala with desperation in his eyes, his hoarse voice catching and breaking as he seemed to beg urgently.
Naesala recoiled, eyebrows leaping upwards. “(Taken?)” He asked and leaned forward, speaking just as urgently based on the cadence of his tone, “(What do you mean? How? I had people guarding the forest.)”
They had to be speaking the same language, Tibarn thought, a different one than what he knew, but the words pouring out the heron's mouth had an ephemeral, nearly magical, lilt, cascading out of his mouth in a way that was reminiscent of the soft flow of a river through a newly awakening forest on a cool spring morning. Naesala’s voice was huskier speaking this tongue. It felt like he was familiar with the language, there was nothing stilted or hesitant in the way he spoke, but it felt different, brusque, rocky.
The heron fell backwards slightly, sagging in exhaustion as he bowed his head, his fingers digging into Naesala’s arm. “(I don’t know! It’s just! It’s what the forest said, and they’re missing! Humans came into the forest and took them, Naesala!)” The heron’s body was trembling, tears in his eyes as he snapped his head up to look at Naesala again. “(Even now, I can feel their suffering. They’re scared, and in pain.)” He hesitated for a moment, voice soft and quivering as he asked, “(You can save them, can’t you? I didn’t know who else to turn to.)”
Naesala nodded immediately, putting a hand over the heron’s. “(Yeah, wherever they are, I’ll find them and bring them back.)”
The heron nodded weakly, closing his eyes and slumped forwards against Naesala.
“(Reyson?!)” Naesala asked, pushing back the heron’s head, it lolled back. Naesala held the back of his hand just over the heron’s mouth.
“He’s breathing,” Tibarn offered, watching the gentle rise and fall of the heron’s chest.
Naesala’s gaze snapped up to Tibarn briefly before returning to the heron. Naesala balanced the heron’s body by leaning him forward, stopped up the vial and returned it to the hidden pocket. Naesala shifted his weight, picked up the heron and rose into a standing position, wings tucked tightly against his back. The raven king tossed a cold look back at Tibarn.
“Why did you come out?”
“Ulki said the winds against the cliffs would be hard to contend with, I wanted to make sure you had help if you needed it, and you clearly did.”
Naesala was quiet for a moment but then looked forward. “Come on, this way back to the castle.”
They walked for a few minutes in silence, the howling of the storm growing fainter behind them as they made their way through the twisting tunnel.
“For the record, I could have gotten out of the ocean on my own just fine,” Naesala said testily, “But, I suppose having you around to carry the torch is convenient, so thanks for that, I guess.”
Tibarn chuckled. Who knew Janaff had a disposition so similar to the raven king? Janaff would be incensed to find that out, and Tibarn felt strongly that Naesala would have a similar reaction. “Sure, you’re welcome,” he said easily, unbothered by the posturing.
Naesala scoffed.
“So, what’s his name?” Tibarn asked.
“This is Prince Reyson, the third Prince of Serenes.”
“That makes him the seventh child of King Lorazieh?” Tibarn had been overwhelmed trying to learn all the names of the heron royals, having a difficult time understanding why the herons used bloodlines for determining leaders like humans did.
“Sixth.”
“Why is he here?”
“It’s nothing Phoenicis needs to concern itself over.”
“Must be important though, right? That Nealuchi fellow said the Serenes herons don’t come here much?”
“At all.” Naesala looked down at Reyson and breathed out a swear under his breath as he examined the heron’s wings. “Reyson’s a pretty poor flier, all herons are. They’re not accustomed to flying long distances like we are, and I’m surprised he made it so far. If it weren’t for the storm, he probably would have gotten all the way across the ocean.” Naesala almost sounded proud. “Stubborn fool that he is.”
Tibarn studied Reyson silently, making out the tear tracks cutting through the water soaking his pale skin, rolling off the fine bones of his face. His hair was tangled, glimmering like pale gold in the twinkling of the torchlight.
“I’ve never been to Serenes before, but King Elil says the herons are our sacred brothers. Did something happen?”
Naesala rolled his eyes. “No, he flew here through a brewing storm for fun,” he quipped sardonically.
Tibarn huffed. “I don’t understand why you’re so hostile. I want to help if I can.”
Naesala scoffed. “The prideful posturing of the hawks would only get in the way.”
Tibarn sighed heavily. “I suppose I couldn't sway that opinion by promising to talk Janaff and Ulki into offering their assistance, could I?”
Naesala fell into a stubborn silence. Tibarn watched the way the shadows along the walls of the roughly carved tunnel danced in the light of the flickering flames.
"They could be useful," the raven king begrudgingly admitted, "Are they any good at spying?"
Tibarn laughed easily. "They're more used to causing trouble with their talents, but yes, more or less."
Naesala groaned. “Fine. Whatever. We’ll see if they’re any good. So, have you ever been to the mainland before?”
“Not as such, no. I’ve seen it in the horizon a few times, though.”
Naesala sighed heavily. “Serenes forest is surrounded by Begnion on almost all sides. There’s a bit of a coast, but human pirates lived there for a long time, so the herons are reluctant to go there on their own, and the back is to the Ertz Mountains separating them from Goldoa. The rest of the forest is surrounded by Begnion, and humans from Begnion go into the forest all the time, it’s sacred to their goddess.”
“And they cause problems?”
Naesala nodded. “A lot of problems, actually. The herons tend to stay away from the edges of the forest for their own safety, they can’t exactly defend themselves.”
“I believe Nealuchi said you ravens have been protecting Serenes. That’s why?”
“Yeah, for the past twenty five years or so I’ve had people guarding the borders, harassing the pirates, keeping them away from the herons. There have been fewer intrusions as a result. But, unfortunately, it sounds like there was a severe one earlier.”
“How bad was it?”
“Prince Rosaire and Princess Lorelle, Reyson’s older brother and sister, were taken. Reyson says they’re alive, but he came here to ask me to find them.”
Tibarn fumbled in his steps but quickly caught himself. “Taken? For what purpose?” Naesala was uncomfortably silent. “Slaves?” Tibarn snarled out in a low voice.
“I think so. Herons, especially members of the royal family, are considered to be exceptionally valuable slaves by humans, as decor, and not much else, given their constitution.” Naesala said so off-handedly it sent chills down Tibarn’s spine, and enflamed Tibarn's heart. How could a laguz king talk so casually about the people he was protecting, as if he was appraising a mere object?! Tibarn went to say something to that effect, but was silenced as he saw the morose and despondent look in Naesala's eye as he looked at Reyson.
Naesala frowned and turned his head forward again. “But with how frail they are, if we don’t find them soon, they could die.”
“And Reyson?” He had to have been struggling in the ocean for over twenty minutes.
“He’ll live. Once the storm’s subsided, I’ll have him taken back to Serenes, his family can take care of any lingering wounds well enough with their magic.”
“There will hardly be any trail left by then.”
“I have my ways. Finding out their location isn’t going to be the problem, just the timing of it is the only concern. Your friends could cut it down. We’ll see.”
“Whatever we can do to rescue the herons, we will,” Tibarn promised.
They came to a wide flight of stairs with a warm light at the top, cascading down the steps and into the tunnel. “Good,” Naesala said, “Just shake the torch to put out the flame and hang it up.”
The raven king flew up the stairs, with Tibarn quickly following after the torch was doused. They entered into a wide hallway of the castle, the sound of the wind billowing outside picked up, nearly deafening in the way it rattled against the walls and closed windows.
Naesala walked down the hall and stopped in front of a closed door near the end. “Open up the door.”
Tibarn quickly moved over to the door, opening it and stepping to the side so that Naesala could carry Reyson inside. It seemed to be a bedroom of some kind.
Naesala deposited Reyson in a chair in the room and walked back to the door. “Just stay in there and keep an eye on him. I’m going to see if there’s anything dry we can put him in and send in Nealuchi to take care of him.”
“I don’t understand his language.”
“He’ll understand you. Just do what you can to keep him calm until Nealuchi gets here if he wakes up beforehand.” With that Naesala had left.
Tibarn walked into the room, bringing in a lit torch hung up in the hallway, and watched Reyson silently. The heron prince was certainly a sight. The songs that waxed on and on about the beauty of the herons didn’t seem to do any justice to Reyson. Herons were all supposed to be fragile, docile things that shied from conflict. Tibarn didn’t understand the appeal, never had gotten why the others seemed so enchanted by the gossamer herons. He’d protect anyone who needed it, but he could never idolize anything that could wither simply by the wrong look.
But Reyson seemed more real. He had been crying over his siblings, yes, but there had been fire in his eyes. Determination. Grit. Pride too, when he hadn’t let the medicine be fed to him, he had to take it himself. Stubborn, Naesala had said. That seemed to fit. His wings were certainly slender and weak looking, almost sickly for a hawk, and yet he had made it across the sea on those wings, in this kind of weather. He’d risk drowning in the sea to save those he cared about, even though he seemed to be a little younger than even Naesala was.
Reyson stirred in the chair, his eyes fluttering halfway open, long lashes obscuring his eyes.
“Prince Reyson?” Tibarn called out.
Reyson looked up at Tibarn, almost vacantly, and his slender blonde eyebrows furrowed. Reyson pursed his lips for a moment as his eyes focused. “(A hawk? I thought I was in Kilvas?)
Tibarn fumbled for a moment. The name of the raven kingdom sounded almost completely unfamiliar to him in Reyson’s melodic voice. Assuming Reyson was indeed inquiring about Kilvas, there were probably only a few questions he could be asking. “You’re in Kilvas. I’m Prince Tibarn of Phoenicis, I was here on business before the storm hit.”
Reyson’s piercing eyes were focused on Tibarn, and the hawk shifted uncomfortably on his feet, feeling like the heron prince was staring into Tibarn’s soul. Reyson’s gaze relented and he looked to the side. “(Naesala?)”
“Going to get you some dry clothes, and Nealuchi to help you.”
“(I don’t need help,)” Reyson spat out vehemently. “(I need my siblings returned to the forest.)” Reyson looked back up at Tibarn. “(Rosaire and Lorelle?)”
“The storm outside is too fierce for us to fly in. As soon as it’s died down enough, we’ll go to Serenes to find your brother and sister.” Tibarn looked out the closed windows at the darkened sky. “It’s going to last at least overnight.”
“(So I’m supposed to sit here and do nothing while I can feel them suffering?)” Reyson snarled.
He was definitely angry. Glaring up at Tibarn, hands gripping the arms of the chairs so tightly the pale knuckles had turned white. Tears in the corner of Reyson's narrowed eyes threatened to spill out anew over his sopping wet cheeks.
“You don’t want us to wait,” Tibarn guessed.
Reyson nodded and turned his head.
“We can’t control the weather, and not even the strongest of us could fly to the mainland in these winds.” This didn’t seem to satisfy Reyson. Tibarn walked over to Reyson and crouched down in front of the heron prince. “I hate waiting myself, but you don’t mess around in these late summer storms, Prince Reyson, nothing would kill you faster. I promise we won’t be sitting idly. King Naesala said he has an idea, and once it’s safe for us to fly out, we will go to rescue your siblings and we will find them.”
Reyson closed his eyes and nodded weakly, leaning back in the chair with trembling arms.
Tibarn studied Reyson for a moment. “You must put a lot of faith in King Naesala and the ravens of Kilvas to have flown out this far to ask for his help,” he remarked before he could think not to.
Reyson nodded weakly again. “(He’s always been a good friend.)”
Tibarn watched the way Reyson's wings shook, unsure if it was from being cold, fatigue, his emotions, or a combination of any of these things. “It’s good that you came here,” Tibarn said, “I know it must have been no small task for you, Prince Reyson, and I’m sorry for what you’re going through, but it’s good that you did it.”
Reyson’s eyes snapped open and he looked over at Tibarn curiously, almost bewildered.
“If you hadn’t, I don’t know if anyone would have been able to come and tell us what was going on. I know you only meant to tell the ravens, but the hawks, too, would never turn a blind eye to the suffering of the herons. You’ll have our help to get your brother and sister back as well.”
Reyson studied Tibarn for a moment. “(Thank you.)” Reyson chuckled humorlessly to himself and looked to the side. “(The others told me not to go, to wait for the next time the ravens came in to talk to us, but I couldn’t wait another blasted minute. I had to go.)”
There was movement at the doorway, Nealuchi walked in with Janaff and Ulki behind him. Nealuchi was holding a set of dark, folded clothes in his arms, and a lit lantern in his hand.
“Ah, your highness, you’re awake,” Nealuchi chirped as he walked over to Reyson.
“(Nealuchi, where’s Naesala?)”
Nealuchi tsked. “The Nestling is talking to the others about what they’ll need to do to find Prince Rosaire and Princess Lorelle. He takes being the Protector of Serenes quite seriously, you know.”
Janaff scoffed derisively. Reyson glanced briefly, somehow both curiously and disapprovingly at the same time, over at Janaff and then looked back to Nealuchi apologetically. “(I know he does, I apologize, I didn't mean to imply that he doesn't.)”
Nealuchi looked over to Tibarn, raising wizened and gray eyebrows. “Prince Tibarn, thank you for staying with Prince Reyson. I will stay with him now and ensure he has everything he needs, so you and your comrades can go.”
Tibarn nodded. He walked out of the room and put the torch back where he had taken it from.
“Ulki told me what you and King Naesala talked about,” Janaff began immediately, “And we are both in to help you rescue the herons from the humans.”
“I didn’t think I’d have any trouble convincing you two to lend a talon to the cause,” Tibarn grinned as he looked at the both of them. “So where’s that notorious king of the crows now, Ulki?”
“He is with what sounds like his advisors and subordinates. They are writing more than speaking.”
“Lead the way, Ulki.”
The three hawks walked through the hallways of the castle until they came to a door that was left slightly open. Tibarn caught a glimpse of Naesala’s dark blue hair from the crack and knocked on the door. Naesala looked up and a raven inside the room opened the door fully.
“Prince Tibarn,” Naesala called out, “I see you and your friends found your way around well enough.” He gestured for the hawks to enter.
Tibarn walked over to the table Naesala and the other ravens were standing by. There were layers and layers of parchment paper on top of the table, the top most was a large drawing, one area was labeled “Begnion” and another “Serenes Forest.” There were smaller labels, “Tanas,” “Sienne,” and so on. Some of the bottom edges looked similar to what the jagged coastlines of the mainland looked like from above.
“Try not to get any water on anything,” Naesala said. There was a dark blue towel wrapped over his shoulders, and his hair was loose, disheveled, and damp. Tibarn took a step back from the table as water puddled by his feet. A raven woman held a towel out to Tibarn.
“So, what’s the plan?” Tibarn asked as he took the towel and began drying his hair. The towel was softer and gentler than anything they had back in Phoenicis.
“I’m going to have a couple units go to where my commander who should be guarding Serenes ought to be. They're going to find out how the humans got through. You hawks, another unit, and myself will take Prince Reyson back to Serenes. After that, we’ll go to where the attack in the forest was, see if there are any clues.” Naesala nodded his head back and forth and then looked briefly over to Janaff before focusing back on Tibarn. “I realize you don’t deal with humans too much, but hopefully Janaff’s talents can help us spot something the rest of us might miss.”
Tibarn wasn’t sure what that would achieve, but he kept his questions to himself. He didn’t care to be mocked by the raven king again for knowing too little.
Naesala continued on, “I’ll have a watch on duty all night, if the storm breaks during the night, they’ll wake us and we’ll head out immediately.”
“So what’s with all of this?” Janaff asked, gesturing to the papers on the table.
Naesala studied Janaff for a moment and then shrugged. “We keep tabs on a lot of activities within the human nations, Begnion especially." Naesala grabbed the ends of the towel, pulling it down as he stretched his neck, looking up at the ceiling as if it had answers to give. “We were going over which parties within Begnion might have done this, but without more information it’s all mostly guesswork.” He looked over towards the hawks. “We’ll only be able to narrow down our list once we start gathering clues and traces of what the humans left behind and find out how they even got so far in the first place.”
“Do you keep tabs on the laguz nations too?” Tibarn asked.
“Enough,” Naesala said with a smirk that bordered on threatening, and then he relaxed and little and shrugged. “Now, I realize Kilvasi black probably isn’t your style, Prince Tibarn, but I assume you’ll want something else to wear while your clothes dry by a fire.”
Tibarn looked down at his clothes, everything was soaking wet and sticky in the humidity of the castle. “I appreciate the offer, but I think anything that could be lent to me would run a bit small,” he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders.
Naesala chuckled. “We have a few overlarge robes lying around that could be scrounged up for you.”
"I suppose it will be better than trying to sleep in these," Tibarn conceded.
---
The robes, like the towel, were made of a fabric softer than even the silk sheets in Phoenicis Hall. They were also black, and long. Tibarn hoped his clothes would dry out sooner than later, he didn't want to wear such a garment longer than when he rose in the morning.
The rooms that had been arranged for the hawks were on a far, dead wing of the castle. There was one central room with a sitting area and five separate bedrooms. The furniture was fancier than what was the norm in Phoenicis, and despite how little this area of the castle seemed to be used, there was no dust anywhere and there was a merry little fire burning in a fireplace. How the fire wasn't being drowned out by the storm above was beyond Tibarn, though he was grateful for its warmth. A raven had arranged his clothes on a rack by the fire very neatly, nothing overlapping.
Janaff snickered derisively as he looked up at Tibarn. "It's really not your style at all," Janaff said with a wide, teasing grin.
Tibarn nodded and sat in a plush chair in front of the fireplace. "You don't have to tell me, I already know."
"I just don't get why they like everything so fancy and ornate," Janaff proclaimed with a sigh as played with the embroidered fabrics of the chair he was perched in. "I feel like I'm sitting in a human living space."
Tibarn shrugged. "It is a bit much." He looked over at Ulki, "Can you hear anything?"
Ulki shook his head. "They mostly seem to be going to sleep for the night."
"I suppose there's nothing to it but to get some rest for the night." Tibarn said, somewhat eager to sleep. He was more fatigued than he had thought he would be from flying around in the storm earlier.
---
Reyson sat on a seat within the room he had woken up in, dressed in soft black clothes that were a bit large on his slender frame. Nealuchi had helped Reyson to undress from his soaked clothes and change into the spare clothes of Kilvas.
Reyson grimaced and set his mouth in a firm line to avoid grunting or gasping as he tried to sit still while Nealuchi brushed the tangles and snares out of the heron's knotted golden locks. It was hard to sit still and straight, but if he moved any muscle, he was paid back with pain.
Everything hurt. Muscles he didn't even know he had before today screamed in agony with the slightest bending. His wings, especially, burned from flying so far, they had become fatigued halfway across the sea.
"There we are, Prince Reyson," Nealuchi chirped cheerfully as he set the brush down on a table and released Reyson’s hair. "Would you like it braided while you sleep?"
"(Yes, please,)" Reyson choked out in a hoarse voice. Even his throat was in agony from the sea water he had swallowed and coughed up so violently.
Nealuchi hummed behind Reyson before moving around the dimly lit room and then offering Reyson a small glass with a hot tea in it. "Here you are, drink this for your throat," Nealuchi said.
Reyson weakly grasped the tea and took a tentative sip. It was warm, but not painfully hot, though swallowing was agony. Nealuchi appraised Reyson briefly, checking to ensure the heron prince could hold the tea cup without dropping it and spilling it, before nodding his head a little and moving back behind the chair to braid Reyson’s hair.
"(Thank you, Nealuchi,)" Reyson whispered after taking another sip of tea.
"It must have been quite the ordeal," Nealuchi said as his fingers deftly parted Reyson’s hair into three sections. "I didn't even know the Nestling had shown you how to get to Kilvas."
"(He didn't. I knew you lived in the southern islands, and he told me Kilvas was to the east, so I followed his heart.)"
Nealuchi chuckled lightly. "That means you flew straight to us from the shore of Serenes?"
"(Well, no. There were human pirates at the coast as I flew by. I didn't have the chance to rest.)"
"Oh dear, we'll have to look into that," Nealuchi muttered with a soft sigh.
Reyson’s hands shook, he could feel Lorelle crying, aching. Rosaire was in pain. There were flashes of screaming, confusion, and fear. Reyson choked back a sob.
"(Nealuchi?)"
"Yes, Prince Reyson?"
"(Can- Can Naesala save them?)"
"The Nestling can save them."
Reyson shivered for a few moments. He closed his eyes. "(What will the humans do to them?)"
Nealuchi hummed for a few moments as he finished braiding Reyson’s hair. Reyson tried to avoid looking into Nealuchi's heart, feeling the old pain and feelings that coursed through Nealuchi as he recalled his old life, before the bird nations had even been formed.
"(Nothing too strenuous, no labor. They never wanted herons for the mundane tasks they had other laguz for,)" Nealuchi whispered, "(But the humans won't have anyone who can speak their language, and if they don't understand what's being asked of them, the humans will treat them harshly.)"
"(You- You used to work with herons, didn't you? Be- Before.)"
Nealuchi patted Reyson’s shoulder. "(My masters wanted me to keep the herons they paid so much for alive. They noticed herons did well with fellow bird tribe attendants. I don’t think they’ll die before the nestling can find them.)"
Reyson bowed his head. “(Thank you, Nealuchi.)”