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~Summer, Begnion Era 625~
Naesala flew in through the wide open windows of the Asmin holy temple within Sienne. There was a furor outside from the people in the streets, their outrage over Apostle Misaha’s death three months ago only growing. They wanted answers for her death, and the senate hadn’t found a group to pin it on yet.
“Duke Asmin, you wanted to see me?” Naesala asked as he transformed and landed on the gold decorated marble tiles composing the floor of the main hall of the temple. He folded his wings tightly behind his back.
Hetzel was the son of Wenzel of Asmin, a prior Prime Minister. Hetzel was getting on in years for a beorc, his dark brown hair was turning grayer every time Naesala saw him. Naesala had usually gotten along with house Asmin, they didn’t tend to be a pain in his wing, nor did they make ugly demands. As far as he knew, and he knew everything he could about the higher ranking senators, they didn’t even keep slaves anymore, letting the few they had prior to the emancipation go when Misaha had forced the law into place the prior year.
“King Naesala, it’s good to see you,” Hetzel greeted, lacking his usual smile. His eyes were somber and there was an apology in them already.
“Always a pleasure to help, senator,” Naesala replied, nearly meaning it for Hetzel.
“I wish circumstances were different,” Hetzel muttered.
“Yeah, things are crazy out there, or so I hear. What can I do for you today?”
Hetzel sighed, leaning most of his weight upon the staff he carried. He nodded and waved for Naesala to follow him into a back room, with gold adorned chairs with velvet cushions. There was an ornately decorated table set with fine china and a rare tea brewing in a pot with steam gently billowing from the spout.
Naesala turned the chair, sitting in it sideways. Beorc chairs always had such high backs that were painful on his wings.
Hetzel grimaced, pouring the tea with a shaking hand, splattering as much of the hot liquid inside on the tray the cups were set upon as in the cups themselves. He set the pot down in frustration, heavier than usual, and there was a loud clanging sound as the cups, saucers, bowls, and spoons jumped on the tray from the force of it.
“What’s business today?” Naesala asked warily, watching Hetzel’s every move.
“I apologize, your highness,” Hetzel murmured, looking at the table. He closed his eyes, shoulders tensing. “I have to ask you to stop protecting Serenes.”
“Stop protecting Serenes?!” Naesala repeated, eyes wide and wings spreading out behind him. “What for?!”
Hetzel sat back in his chair and looked to the side. “Prime Minister Lekain-” Hetzel closed his eyes. “You entered into an agreement with my father to protect Serenes, and I must rescind it.”
“You know how costly that will be,” Naesala said as a warning. Prior orders could only be overwritten by a higher price, he’d figured that out about ten years into ruling Kilvas.
Wenzel had offered to pay Naesala ten thousand gold a month to do what he could to keep the herons from harm, something he'd already determined to do on his own. And he'd been protecting Serenes for fifty-five and a half years under his agreement with Wenzel. It was worth millions of gold now, untouchable. They never paid that much for anything.
"I know, and I'm prepared to offer seven million gold for it," Hetzel said firmly.
"You're really sure you want this?" Naesala countered. He couldn't deny the request, but he could try to talk Hetzel out of it.
"I am."
Naesala stared at Hetzel for a long time, calculating. Trying to figure out a different solution, since there was no hesitation in that response. He only had one recourse left.
"Fifty million gold," Naesala said.
"Ten million gold."
"Fifty million gold."
"Ten million gold is our offer," Hetzel said wearily.
Naesala cursed the senate, Begnion, the goddess in his head. Anyone who was responsible for his current predicament.
He cursed Moloch, the first King of Kilvas, twice.
It was as if the Blood Pact was a leather collar around his neck choking him, instead of a marking on the inside of his left wrist.
He couldn't deny the request.
"Write it down," Naesala said tersely, forgetting the subservient manners he usually used around the senate to trick them into complacency.
Hetzel nodded. A servant brought a stationary set over to the table while another cleared away the tea. He lifted a quill pen made of a brightly hued feather in a shaking hand and scribbled down on a piece of parchment before handing it over to Naesala.
To Raven King Naesala,
You are to immediately cease protecting the Serenes Forest, and Kilvas will never offer aid to a heron within Serenes ever again. You will be paid 10,000,000 gold for this purpose.
Hetzel, Duke of Asmin, Senator of the Begnion Empire
Naesala looked down at the request and frowned, swallowed, and nodded. He didn’t have a choice. He could never let Kilvas die out from the curse. He could still recall how the mountains of rotting bodies had smelled, towards the end. "I agree to these terms.” His shoulders fell. “What are you planning to do to Serenes?" He asked quietly, looking at the floor.
"Nothing," Hetzel said in a thin voice. Lying. "We simply wish for it to be unmarred by the violence of the ravens."
Naesala's stomach twisted. He thought of Reyson and Leanne and the other herons of Serenes. He stood up. "Was that everything today?"
"Yes, thank you for coming to visit, your highness, but you may take your leave now. I will have the payment delivered to Kilvas within the week."
Naesala pocketed the new demand. "See that you do," he said sharply before taking his leave of Hetzel.
---
He returned to Kilvas within three days with every raven who had been protecting Kilvas. He went directly to the garden near the castle of fruiting plants he had been growing for the various members of the heron family for decades, and sat down on the cliff overlooking the ocean, next to a bush of bright red bitter fruits native to Kilvas called Aja berries.
The roots of the bush were grown in the center of the spot where the first and prior king of Kilvas, Moloch, had stood, right before throwing himself off the cliffs of Kilvas and into the ocean below to “atone” for signing the Blood Pact and getting half of the country killed in his defiance of Begnion.
Naesala looked down at the ocean, scowling.
"How the hell did you even get roped into this?!" Naesala demanded of the bush. "And then just kill yourself before dealing with it?! What kind of raven does that?!"
It wasn't the first time he'd come here to air his grievances at Moloch’s ghost, and it would be far from the last time.
He huffed and pulled out the paper from Hetzel, reading it over.
They were planning something with the herons. And there was little he could do.
Someone flew down and settled on the cliff near him. "What did they ask this time, Nestling?" Nealuchi asked.
Naesala held out the request to Nealuchi. "Here."
Nealuchi took the paper and read it over. "Oh my," he whispered, giving it back to Naesala.
"Yeah," Naesala grumbled.
"Do you think they’re planning on taking heron slaves?" Nealuchi asked quietly.
"Probably." Naesala said with a long sigh. "I hate this."
"I know, Nestling."
---
Naesala stumbled into his room later that night, drunk. He looked at the paper again and read the request over. And over.
He threw it to the floor, cursing incoherently at it.
Whatever the senate was doing, he'd be powerless to stop it.
What if they took Reyson or Leanne? He choked back a sob and fell to his knees, as the image of the youngest heron royals in chains being whipped cruel beorc masters was immediately conjured in his mind.
He tore a band of tight black fabric off of his left wrist, rolling back his sleeve to look at the Blood Pact marking.
He could still protect them. All of them.
He wouldn't have to pick between them and his country.
If it weren't for this damned mark.
~Late Summer, Begnion Era 625~
Tibarn, Janaff, and Ulki were sparring in the air near the castle when Ulki came to a halt suddenly.
"One of the herons is here," Ulki called out.
Tibarn paused, looking over at Ulki.
"It's Prince Reyson," Janaff said a moment later, squinting in the distance, "He doesn't look happy."
"That's not a good sign," Tibarn said. "Take me to him."
The last time Reyson had left Serenes, his older siblings had been captured by slavers. But Reyson had gone to Kilvas for help, as he was close friends with Naesala. Back when Tibarn was only a prince, not yet king.
Tibarn had visited Serenes a handful of times since, usually speaking with Rafiel or Lorazieh, the first prince or king of Serenes, who spoke the modern tongue. Reyson only spoke in the ancient tongue, and Tibarn could only understand that language at a hatchling’s complexity. Janaff had caught on only a little better, Ulki had learned it as well as Tibarn had.
What had brought Reyson all the way to Phoenicis?
Reyson was near the edge of the island, yelling at a hawk in the ancient tongue. He was speaking so quickly and with such fury, Tibarn couldn’t understand a word of it.
"Reyson!" Tibarn called out.
Reyson paused and turned to look at the hawk king and flew over.
"(Tibarn!)" Reyson greeted before launching into a request that was asked too fast for Tibarn to fully process. There was a desperation to his eyes, but a furious edge to the way his brows were drawn and the way his mouth pulled down.
Tibarn shook his head. "Reyson, I don't understand the ancient tongue that well, please, slow down. Something happened?"
Reyson nodded and took a deep breath, his speech clipped with anger, but at least at a level Tibarn could follow. "(Rafiel’s been taken. Naesala will not help us find him. He has abandoned Serenes and will not explain why. You said the hawks would help us if we needed it. Can you help us get Rafiel back? Can you make Naesala explain himself?)"
Tibarn blinked, brows raising. Janaff cursed under his breath as Ulki frowned pensively.
"We'll do everything we can for your brother, Reyson," Tibarn said. "I'll start by paying Naesala a visit, see if I can't get something out of him."
They'd only found Rosaire and Lorelle last time because Naesala knew so much about human slavers and their organizations. As much as he and Naesala didn't get along, he needed Naesala's knowledge as a starting point.
"(Then let us go,)" Reyson said, turning to fly back to Kilvas.
Reyson was faster than most herons, stubborn and resilient as well. Rafiel said Reyson and Leanne were closest to Naesala, that Reyson tried to race Naesala every time he was in Serenes. But Reyson still wasn't as fast as the hawks. Tibarn held back, keeping pace with Reyson, not eager to let Reyson fall into the ocean alone if his strength gave out.
They came to Kilvas by mid-afternoon. Tibarn flew right into the throne room, the others following him.
"Naesala!" Tibarn called out as he transformed back into a humanoid state. landing on the ground in front of the throne Naesala occupied.
"Tibarn." Naesala was a sick mirror of his usual demeanor when sitting in the Kilvas throne. Where he usually leaned on the left arm with a smug, punchable confidence, he was now leaning to the right, wings drooping and face emotionless as he glanced at the hawks and Reyson.
Naesala's left arm was in a sling, covered in bandages and stiff whale bones for support to keep his arm still. His face was pale and there were dark rings under his eyes.
"I see Reyson found you," Naesala remarked, an attempt at his usual smug jabs, but none of the heart to it.
"What happened?" Tibarn asked, he could smell how weak Naesala was.
"Oh, this?" Naesala shrugged his left arm in the sling. "Found myself ensnared in a human trap."
"I thought you said you were too clever to fall for one," Janaff goaded.
"I said I was too clever to die in one," Naesala returned, a hollow ghost of his usually smug and infuriating tone inflicted on his words. "And I'm not dead."
"I can see why you can't help find Rafiel," Tibarn said, "But lend us a raven or two to go looking."
Naesala scoffed, looking out the window Tibarn had entered from. "Sorry, Kilvas has other concerns right now."
"Other concerns?! Don't you protect Serenes?!"
"The interests of Kilvas no longer align with the interests of Serenes."
"What the hell does that mean?" Janaff interjected. "Don't you care about them?"
"Kilvas has other concerns right now," Naesala returned firmly. "I don't have a raven to spare for finding Rafiel."
"(Or to spare to guard Serenes?)" Reyson snapped.
"We're busy," Naesala said, gaze directed at them but distant and unfocused.
Tibarn scowled. There was no way Naesala couldn’t spare a single raven to help find Rafiel.
He just didn't want to.
"If you don't care protect Serenes, then I will," Tibarn snapped.
Naesala scoffed, dark eyes meeting Tibarn's. "Is that right?" He challenged. "You think you could? You don't understand anything about how Begnion operates, or how they think. You hawks have kept yourself so closed off from the mainland that I doubt you even know the names of their territories."
"I don't need to know any of that to do a better job than you."
Naesala huffed, some of his confident demeanor returning. "I doubt you'll last a month," he jeered.
---
Tibarn had been hoping to challenge Naesala, force him into action for the sake of his pride over anything else. But Naesala had no pride.
The elders of Phoenicis had been right about the crows after all. They had no honor, only caring for themselves.
He took Reyson back to Serenes, and tried to figure out how to find out where Rafiel had been taken. He checked the spots they had gone with Naesala all those years ago to find the twins when they had been taken, but there was no trace of the eldest heron prince.
What grated Tibarn the most about Naesala’s nonchalance was that Rafiel had defended the honor of the ravens quite passionately many years ago, while Tibarn had been visiting Serenes and helped Rafiel take care of some of his younger cousins.
"I know that there is some conflict between the ravens and the hawks, Prince Tibarn, but I would ask that you keep that conflict out of the forest. Naesala and his ravens have always been good to us, and I couldn't ask for a better friend for Reyson and Leanne to have."
Out of respect, Tibarn had said nothing against the ravens again when visiting the herons. But now when Rafiel needed help, Naesala would leave him to die, denying the request of his supposed friend.
Could those crows even care about anything other than themselves?
~Early Fall, Begnion Era 625~
"King Tibarn!" A hawk civilian called out as he approached the great king of Phoenicis while doing his rounds, patrolling the northern borders of the island nation.
Tibarn stopped in his path and transformed into humanoid form. His attendants followed suit. "Yes, what is it?" Tibarn asked.
The hawk took a deep breath. "I was fishing for some crabs off the southern coasts of Begnion."
"Oh?" The smaller attendant asked, Janaff.
"Yes, I like the flavor, so I go back sometimes. While I was there, I overheard some humans talking about how they're organizing to burn down the Serenes Forest." It had been ravens. The ravens who had freed him from human masters many decades ago, and asked him to keep an eye on the hawks spying on Phoenicis for the senate. They had come and warned him while he was out in the middle of the ocean, meeting up with them, as he usually did every other year.
"What?!” Tibarn snarled. “Burn down Serenes?! Are you sure?"
"They apparently blame the herons for the assassination of their leader. They're going to take revenge by wiping out the herons. All of them."
The ravens hadn't said much else, only adding that the Begnion spies in Phoenicis needed to be taken care of. He didn’t ask questions, he’d only endured living in Phoenicis, being thought less of for habits he had gotten into for his human masters by other hawks, because the ravens had asked it. Said that the hawks needed his help.
"Janaff, Ulki," Tibarn called out, "Go get some support. I'm going to Serenes right now."
Tibarn's attendants flew off, back to Phoenicis, and Tibarn transformed, heading north.
---
The forest was already on fire by the time Tibarn arrived, thick clouds of black smoke spiraling into skies as dark as the hurricanes that struck the southern islands. But it wasn't heavy rains promised by the skies above.
The smoke burned in his lungs as he neared the forest, so he had to drop down, closer to the blaze so sweltering hot that he could feel his skin searing through the barrier of his feathers.
He spotted humans in the forest. They had pitchforks and other farming equipment that they were using to kill any herons they came across.
Tibarn flew into the fray, striking down the humans, trying to save the herons already bloody on the ground, but once the humans laid dead he could see that the heron mother was long since dead, the child her body was shielding also lost.
The humans had been beating corpses.
He flew deeper into the forest, killing any human he came across, but there didn't seem to be any surviving herons left. Just corpses, some of the bodies already burning.
He pushed towards the Sacred Hall of Serenes, where the royal family lived.
Rheanna, Queen of Serenes, was dead on the grounds outside of the building, many arrows piercing her body, chest, back, wings and arms. Her blue wings were covered in ash and soot.
Rosaire, the second prince, was dead inside the building, a pool of blood underneath him from a gaping wound in his neck.
Laila, first princess, was in the back, near the glade of flowers dedicated to the goddess, one of her wings nearly torn off from her body. Lorelle, second princess, was on another end of the glade, barely recognizable under the myriad of injuries dealt to her.
"Tibarn!" Janaff called out as he and Ulki flew down near Tibarn.
"Can you find any survivors?" Tibarn asked.
"I can barely see a thing through all this smoke," Janaff said.
"The roar of the flames makes it difficult to hear," Ulki said, face downturn. "Every heron we've found is dead or been on their last breaths."
"There has to be someone left," Tibarn said, "We're not leaving until we've done everything we can."
"Right," Janaff said.
"Of course," Ulki said at the same time.
They separated, flying in different directions. Tibarn spotted two more members of the royal family hidden in a small pond. The water was dark and murky, thick with soot, burnt wood and dead leaves. Their white wings were mostly covered by dead vines.
Tibarn swooped down, pulling the vines aside to look at them, boots setting down in the putrid waters.
It was Reyson and Lorazieh, floating on their backs. Reyson's arms wrapped tightly around Lorazieh, while Reyson himself was almost completely submerged, mouth and nose barely clearing the surface. The water rippled gently near their mouths.
"Ulki! Janaff! To me!" Tibarn called out, pulling both herons onto the river bank. They were both wounded severely, covered in burns and injuries that were barely still bleeding, the color drained from their bodies and dark rings under their eyes.
He separated Lorazieh from Reyson as Ulki flew in, Janaff arriving mere moments later.
"Here, take King Lorazieh," Tibarn said, hoisting Reyson up onto his back. "We need to get them back and have their injuries treated immediately."
Ulki was already picking up Lorazieh to follow Tibarn.
"I'll stay here and keep looking for others," Janaff said. "Get them out of here."
"I'll see you again soon," Tibarn promised, leaping up into the air, holding Reyson securely as he flew.
He didn't have those harnesses that the ravens did, that would allow him to carry Reyson safely over the ocean while transformed, so he flew back without transforming, arriving at Phoenicis Hall late into the evening, guided by the candles burning in the windows.
He flew in through an open window and dropped Reyson into a bed in the infirmary, where injured hawks would rest and convalesce through their own time. But there were medicines in cabinets, tinctures made from herbs and grasses grown on Phoenicis that were used on severe enough wounds. Tibarn tore through the cabinets to find what little supply they had of these and started applying them to the burns on Reyson's body and the wounds dealt to him by human weapons.
Ulki came in while Tibarn was working, staggering from exhaustion and laid Lorazieh down in a nearby cot, taking some of the medicine to apply it liberally to Lorazieh's injuries as well.
Tibarn stood up, looking over Reyson, who was barely breathing, and then over at Ulki. "Keep an eye on them. I'm going back to Serenes."
Ulki nodded, sitting down in a chair in the corner of the room.
---
Serenes was embers by the time Tibarn returned, gathered rain clouds having poured down onto the blaze and snuffed out the flames. The humans had left.
"There's no one else left," Janaff whispered with a cracking voice while he hovered in the air above the burnt remains of the forest. "We've been looking for any survivors, but there's no one."
"So it's just the two of them," Tibarn muttered, scowling, "King Lorazieh and Prince Reyson are the only ones who escaped with their lives."
~Fall, Begnion Era 625~
Reyson awoke a few days later, but Lorazieh did not. Reyson was weak and had little strength left. For the first couple of weeks following the destruction of Serenes, if Tibarn didn't find Reyson sleeping when checking in on the heron prince, Reyson was crying, which was usually accompanied by remarks in the ancient tongue, made in anger or despair, Tibarn couldn't tell. Maybe both.
He simply sat by Reyson's side when there was free time, and if there wasn't, he made time. Reyson seemed to be completely unable to understand anything Tibarn said. The herons who didn’t speak the modern tongue relied on their ability to read hearts and minds to communicate with others. Reyson seemed to have lost that. Tibarn wasn’t sure how or why that had happened, or if Reyson would ever recover the ability.
Tibarn remembered distantly that the herons didn't eat meat or fish, there was no hunting allowed in Serenes, so he had yuka nuts gathered from Phoenicis to be fed to Reyson. Reyson barely ate, barely drank, and usually only did so after some coaxing.
Tibarn was determined to help Reyson recover, but he didn't know the herons as well as the ravens did.
Not that Naesala was exactly tripping over himself to provide aid, or send anyone from Kilvas to help. Tibarn had made the trip to Kilvas over a dozen times by now, each argument or line of reasoning refuted by Naesala.
Kilvas had its own concerns. Kilvas had other interests.
Each visit, each heartless refusal, each unconvincing remark, left Tibarn angrier and angier at the raven king. Tibarn kept going for Reyson and Lorazieh's sakes, he didn't know how many times Reyson could survive eating something disagreeable, hoping to make Naesala crack.
But it was as if Naesala didn't have a heart.
As if all the concern Naesala had shown for Reyson that time Reyson had come to Kilvas and nearly died in the ocean during a hurricane hadn’t meant anything.
After a few months, Tibarn gave up trying, focusing all his time and effort on helping Reyson recover.