Chapter Text
Atop the mountain, beyond the valleys, hidden away from the rest of society, the stronghold stood tall. Its stone walls camouflaged with the surrounding surface of the mountain. Clouds of rain flew overhead, colliding, its roars of thunder shook the floating isle to its very core. Sending a downpour upon the ground. The residents of the stronghold sought cover inside its walls.
One child was daring enough to stay put, she watched as the maidservants all clambered past the mahogany gate, their wings shielding their hair from the rain. She looked up at the overcast sky, drops of water dripping onto her face, trailing down her cheeks.
“Must you lounge in the rain, sister?” A feminine voice called from the gate. “You’re going to catch a cold.”
The child looked back, seeing her eldest sister beckoning her to come inside. “Polaris.” She nodded in acknowledgment, eventually obliging, taking slow steps into the stronghold so as not to accidentally slip on the mud that soiled her shoes.
Polaris dried her baby sister off with her own wings, brushing the water off of her body. “What were you even doing out there?”
She simply shrugged, she didn’t know why she was out there, she just knew that she was on the lookout for something…someone? Some people? To Polaris it looked like her sister was completely out of it, blindly looking up at the grey sky fluttering her eyelashes, every second, paying no mind to the fact her hair was pin straight from the absolute flood that ascended to the top of her head.
“Vega.” Her sister called out, her voice assertive, yet with a hint of curiosity. She’d always been an assertive woman. As heir to the clan, and a servant to the gods of fire and flame, it has always been expected of the eldest to showcase a formidable, and confident aura.
“I don’t know.” She verbally replied. She began speed-walking through the maze that was the stronghold, past all the maidservants who dashed around with the same speed. Polaris chased after her, stopping in front of Vega’s quarters, the wooden sliding door slightly ajar. Polaris nudged her fingers in through the tiny gap, sliding the door slightly, seeing Vega wrapped in her own beige and brown wings, slouching atop the bed, shivering.
Polaris sighed, wrapping her significantly larger wings around the little girl, her shivers slowly dying down. “I told you, you’d catch a cold.”
Vega shot her a glare, immediately unraveling her wings off her body, back to their original positions. “I’m not cold.” She turned her body away from Polaris, her back facing her. Polaris let out a quiet chuckle of amusement, shuffling herself to be face to face with her once again. Vega looked up at her, an unamused expression in her eyes. “Why must you keep bothering me?” She buried her face into her wings, hiding herself.
“I’m your sister. It’s my duty.” She gently pushed Vega’s wing to the side. “Antares sure doesn’t do it enough.”
Vega scoffed at the mention of her other sister’s name, whom she didn’t have much of a connection with as she did with Polaris, who was basically a second mother to her, and guided her when her own mom couldn’t. “As if she even does anything.”
Polaris shifted on the bed once more. “Vega,” She began speaking again in a more stern tone. “She’s your big sister too, and you should show her the same amount of respect as you do with me.”
“What respect should one earn when she who is second born shows little to no contribution?” She snapped. “I may be the third child, and you the first, but have you noticed we have been doing more than our share of duties, and she is off in her own world, nowhere to be found?”
Polaris looked at Vega with an obvious smug on her face. A knowing smug. “Oh, sweet sister, don’t be a hypocrite. You and Antares are more alike than you think.”
Vega choked out a scoff at her sister’s statement. Her, being just like her useless second eldest sister? She found the idea quite absurd. In her mind, they were the complete opposite. Vega, yes, she’d often find herself in her own universe, being a little dazed most of the time, unfocused even, yet she’d always try to please the clan in the best way she could. Put up with all the harsh and unmeetable expectations that were just thrown onto her, like any heir to a high ranking Flock would, even if she ended up disappointing the elders.
And most importantly, her mother.
Antares on the other hand, was always in her own world. Always found cooped up in her quarters, never wanting to talk to anyone. Her sisters found that little to no duties nor expectations were put onto her, which was befuddling, perplexing even, given their status. They both always questioned it, but never actually had the courage to investigate.
“Go on, tell me; in what way are Antares and I alike?” Vega continued.
“Before I do, you tell me,” Polaris stood up from the bed, looming over Vega in the most unintentionally intimidating way possible. “What were you doing frolicking in the rain?”
“Does it really matter..?”
Polaris rolled her eyes, letting out a harsh sigh. “Yes! of course. You know how much mama hates it when you come back soaking in the rain.” She wiped off a stray water droplet from the top of Vega’s forehead. “So go on, spill it.”
Vega thought for a moment, before finally coming up with a response. “I was looking for something.”
Polaris placed a hand on her hip, gesturing for Vega to continue.
“Well, someone—people. I noticed just over the valley, southeast of the stronghold, a group of WindWalkers were flying overhead, and it’s not just normal WindWalkers, they have badges, symbols even. But they weren’t the scouts from our clan on their daily patrols. No. I didn’t even recognize if it was a symbol from any of the other Flocks.”
Her sister stared at her with curious, yet urgent eyes. Fearful even, her brows furrowed. “What did the symbols look like?”
“I’m not entirely sure, however…” Vega paused for a second, before grabbing a piece of paper, ink, and quill from her dresser. She began scribbling down her memory of the mysterious symbols.
She lifted the paper up to Polaris’s face. Examining it closely, she could recognize the shape of what seemed to be some kind of avian; from the metallic sharp feathers on each side, resembling the wings, and tail feathers sticking downwards.
Ah, of course.
“You’re sure this was the symbol?” Polaris handed the sketch back.
“Positive. My eyes never deceive me.” Among her sister’s, Vega was the one who was gifted with extraordinary eyesight. She could make out anything miles away, doesn’t matter if it’s a giant fire breathing dragon, or a WeeSprite hidden in the tall grass.
“Protectors.” Polaris muttered under her breath, but not quite loud enough for Vega to hear.
“Who?”
She looked back up at her. “Protectors.” She repeated with much more projection.
Vega simply tilted her head. “Protectors?”
“It’s a group our Flocks don’t associate with. Made up of Flockless WindWalkers, and many other creatures,” She sat up completely from the bed, and began pacing around the room. “But that doesn’t make sense…why would they be so close to the stronghold? How far were they, Vega?”
“Close enough for me to see. Why? Are they dangerous?” She too sat up, her voice low and serious. If these mysterious WindWalkers were an actual threat, the Flock would have to take drastic measures to insure safety and security among themselves.
“No…yes? Not entirely. They’re in charge of keeping the Mystic Isles from harm's way. Saving residents left and right, but we do not come into contact with them. Not now, not ever.”
Vega tugged at the bottom of her sister’s embroidered robes. “How come?”
Polaris sucked the air between her teeth. “We have history. A lot of it. You’ll learn once you are older.” With that, she stepped out of the room, sliding the door closed behind her, leaving Vega to ponder what kind of history the Flocks might have with the Protectors…
Meanwhile, on the Isle of Forever Frost, a young boy was training for something special.
Orion beat his wings as fast as he could, his eyes fluttering against the harsh fall of the snow overhead. Each breath he took was like a blade being gouged into his lungs, but he paid no mind. He continued to fly through the tough climate of the frozen Isle, checking back every few seconds to see if he was being followed.
He dove near a cave, seeking shelter away from the snowstorm. He wrapped his wings around his shivering body. Insulating whatever heat was left. He ran a hand through his semi damp hair, drawing several breaths to regulate himself. He peered out the opening, seeing nothing but the snow. He sighed, leaning his head back against the cold cave wall. But before he knew it, he felt a sudden pull of his arm, he let out a shriek, and suddenly, he was dragged out of the cave, and airborne. He looked up to see a middle-aged gruff man, gripping him by the forearm, eventually throwing him down below into the snow.
The man landed beside him. He gracefully floated on top of the snow, not sinking, due to his mastery in the art of Feather Walking. He glided ever so attentively over the snow, beside Orion, helping him up.
“By the gods, boy, learn to not leave such an obvious trail behind, and maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have found you.” The man teased. He patted Orion hard on the back, leaving him a bit dazed. “I’m only kidding! You did much better than last time!”
Orion awkwardly chuckled at his statement. “Yeah, of course, but I would’ve done better had you not picked such an Isle, I can barely see at all!” He rubbed his eyes. “And It’s cold, and wet, and cold . Chief Centauri, it feels like you’re trying to fail me.”
Centauri let out a hearty laugh. “My boy, you must learn that no matter where you are, danger could always be lurking around every corner. You might be safe in the Isle of Unicorns, or Faeries, but what if you find yourself stranded in this Isle, being chased by hungry dragons?” He playfully poked the small boy in the stomach.
“I don’t think dragons live in this part of The Mystic Isles.”
Centauri scoffed. “Okay, smart boy, Arcticondors then, hm? Big hungry Arcticondors, who’ll stop at nothing but to make you their next meal.”
Orion was about to cut him off, but from the look on Centauri’s face, he knew better than to nerd out about his extensive knowledge of the Mystic Isles.
“How about this,” Centauri continued. “Since you did very well today, we’ll stop right here. Ease those growing muscles of yours.” Centauri gently punched Orion’s arm.
The young boy’s eyes lit up “Really? You mean it?” He almost didn’t believe Centauri at first.
“Of course, my boy. You’ve been training hard all week. At this rate, you might get to start your Enchantlet training early.”
Orion beamed at Centauri’s statement. Starting Enchantlet training early was certainly a rare occurrence. Usually it would take years to be able to not only physically, but mentally prepare oneself for the harshness of Enchantlet training. While physically Orion might be fine…being mentally prepared was an understatement.
Even on the topic of Enchantlets, Orion couldn’t help but think… “Chief Centauri.”
The older man raised an eyebrow.
“How old were you when you earned your Enchantlet?”
Centauri let out a sigh. “When I was about…hmm…eighteen-nineteenish…I began training when I was fourteen. Best years of my life I must say. So much freedom, so many isles for me to explore.”
Orion blinked. “You didn’t explore the other isles beforehand?” He chuckled. “Did you have strict parents? A curfew?”
Centauri grimaced, his face scrunching up. “Ehh…something like that. Look, what really matters is, it doesn’t matter how young or old you are when you receive your Enchantlet, as long as you work hard for it, it’ll all be worth it.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
Meanwhile, back at the Stronghold, a little girl was on the lookout.
Vega spent the last twenty minutes staring out her window, looking up at the evening sky, eyes trailing every corner of the atmosphere. Watchful, like a hawk. It was almost as if she was in some sort of trance the way she seemed so hypnotized by the rainfall. However, she was intent on finding what she was looking for.
The sound of the door sliding eventually broke the silence. “Vega.” A deeper, more stern voice called out to her.
Vega froze in place, taking hitched breaths before slowly turning around. “Evening, mama.”
Nova, Vega’s mother, and current elder of the Flock stood there in her luxurious colourful robes, beginning to gracefully stride into the room, stopping behind Vega. “What on earth are you doing?”
Vega gritted her teeth. “Watching the rain.”
“Your sister informed me of your earlier findings.”
Vega’s eyes widened. “And…?”
Nova stepped closer to Vega, putting a hand on her shoulder, before leaning in closer. “They didn’t spot you, did they?” Her fingers were practically digging into Vega’s shoulder. She was about to point it out, but the look in her mother’s eyes really voiced her concern.
“No. They were too far away to see me. They flew over the valleys, but I think they were too far to even see the stronghold…” Her voice trailed off, to be honest, she wasn’t even sure if these ‘Protectors’ spotted her or the entire stronghold or not.
“You’re sure, child? You know the outcome if they had spotted us, right??” Her mother’s voice was full of panic, it was surprisingly the most panic she’s ever heard from her.
“Not entirely…no.” Vega allowed her mother’s grip on her shoulder to tighten, as if it was a means of keeping her grounded.
“Okay…just,” Nova paused, her wings twitching and flapping. “Just don’t go outside anymore, okay?”
Vega blinked. “What?”
Her mother groaned in response. “Okay—just…just don’t leave the valley. Don’t stray too far from the stronghold. Especially without your sisters or a maidservant to escort you.”
Vega was about to protest before her mother turned to the door, giving her the iconic “I mean it” look before sliding the door closed, leaving Vega to wonder what really was going on. It seemed strange that both her sister, and mother were freaking out about these people.
‘ Perhaps it’s time to take matters into my own hands.’
That night, Vega silently tiptoed through the halls of the stronghold, clinging onto the left stone wall, wary of any passing or lingering maidservants or scouts. She eventually made it to the library. It wasn’t a large luxurious hall like most strongholds of much higher-ranking Flocks, but it was cozy. Like a giant reading nook you’d have at your window side.
She began searching; pulling books off of shelves, reading the back and title of each book she came across, but to no avail. Ah, but Vega was a very persistent girl; able to put her mind to something and not let go until she had reached it. And so, she continued like the scavenger at heart she is, until she reached a very specific section. She pulled the book off the shelf, her eyes trailing over the cover.
“The Flamed Archives…” She muttered. Opening the book, taking in the information before her...
“What is this?!” Vega bursted into Polaris’s quarters, book in hand, throwing it onto her sister’s lap as she sat criss-cross on top of the mattress.
Polaris squawked, startled by Vega’s sudden entrance. “Huh?”
“Feudalism!? Burning?! Complete and total isolation…what–when were you going to tell me about this?!”
Her sister simply stared at her, still processing everything Vega was bestowing upon her. “What?” She replied, completely clueless.
“Gods help me..” Vega muttered “Look. At. Your. Lap.”
Polaris’s eyes trailed down to the book in her lap. Her brows furrowed as she trailed over the cover and title, running her hands along the familiar, smooth hard material.
“Oh, Vega,” She whispered, looking up at her younger sister with concern in her eyes. “You shouldn’t have discovered this.”
Vega sat in front of her sister, criss-cross as well. Her wings fluttered vigorously. “Explain it to me, now. I want to know everything.” The look in her eyes, purely determined to know the truth. The entire truth.
Polaris sucked the air between her teeth, before she began speaking. “Many, many years ago, life in the isles was more…dangerous. There were no bounds to them other than the fact there was danger around almost every corner. Countless species at war with each other for things like claims over different isles and territories. We WindWalkers lived closed off from the rest of the isles. We isolated ourselves simply because it was too dangerous to leave.”
Vega inched forward. “Go on…”
“So, all the WindWalkers lived under Flocks. We as Flocks had more control over the entire Isle, everyone had to bend to the rules of each of the different clans, who owned the land–feudalism essentially. However, back then we had certain…customs and practices that not many people agreed with.”
“The burning?” Vega interjected.
“Yes, that…the burning of female WindWalkers after the production of an offspring,” she chuckled. “Be glad we don’t live in that timeline…”
Polaris’s attempt of humor didn’t phase Vega in the slightest. She simply tilted her head, signalling her to press on with the exposition.
“That was a big thing that WindWalkers didn’t agree with…so, we made a deal. To avoid complications and ‘unnecessary bloodshed’ There was a pact, an agreement that whomever was to be-rid themselves of the restrictions of the Flock lifestyle, would be given the title, “Flockless”, and be banished from the WindWalker Isle.”
“Wasn’t it too dangerous to leave?”
“Yes, that,” Polaris cracked a small smile. “We’re a very intelligent species, Vega. Somehow, someway, a group of Flockless WindWalkers formed a peace group, The Protectors, they called themselves. Because life in the isles was so dangerous, they sought to make it better for everyone. Not just WindWalkers, but for every single creature alike. Soon, this group became huge, and dozens and dozens of WindWalkers began to leave the Flocks and became Flockless to live under the Protectors, hence why we Flocks are more of a…reserved and small society now.”
“And other creatures began joining this peacekeeping society and soon life on the isles became safer and more secure.” Vega interrupted. “But if this group has accomplished so much for the isles, done so many good deeds, brought peace to the realm, then why do we hide from them, and treat them like they’re the enemy?”
“That’s just the thing, Vega, the Flocks fear them because of the peace and justice they’ve brought to the isles! The Protectors now, they…they don’t know the Flocks exist.”
Vega’s eyes widened. Perplexed, she looked down at the book, grabbing it, flipping and skimming through all the pages inside. “But…it doesn’t say that in the book…”
Polaris lowered the book, eyes locking with Vega’s. A solemn expression on her face. “I think that’s because you grabbed the first one in the archives, Vega.”
“Oh.”
“But anyway, during the pact, both the Flocks and Flockless made a deal that they never speak of nor hear of each other again. Once again, to avoid bloodshed, we just avoided each other entirely, and eventually, our circle became smaller, and The Protectors and Flockless became bigger, and they just…forgot about us entirely. I guess since so many WindWalkers left, they assumed the whole system was abolished…”
“So, essentially, we don’t associate with them because we know the things we practice are utterly terrible, and if they discover us we’ll actually be abolished.” Vega looked over the book once again. “That still doesn’t make any sense.”
“Vega.”
“No, really.” Vega snapped. “If we know the things we do are horrific and if we know our circles are just getting smaller and smaller by the years, why do we still continue living like this?!”
Polaris’s wings tensed up a bit at Vega’s words. “It’s not that simple…”
“No, it isn’t.” She shut the book, springing from her seat and speed walking towards the door. “It’s stupid.” With that, she slammed the door behind her, leaving Polaris to process. She tried calling out to her little sister, but Vega kept walking, towards the library, towards the section with the Flamed Archives, desperate to know the exact history behind this corrupt system.
In the early morning, the rise of the sun shining through Vega’s windows, and onto her eyes, brought her out of slumber, and she slowly rose from her bed. Piles of books all from the Flamed Archives fell onto the floor below her. Her brain hurt from all the onslaught of traumatizing and horrific information she so lovingly bestowed upon herself, but also, she had gathered more information on the peacekeeping group that was the Protectors. So later that day, she took a risk upon herself, and decided she’d head out, through the forest, up the hill and valleys, and try to see if she could catch a glimpse of them again, like she did before.
Sure enough, off in the distance, her impeccable eyesight was able to makeout flying figures ahead, dawning the same symbols and outfits she saw before. But something felt different this time. The more Vega watched as they flew in the direction of the sun, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of yearning. A craving even. A pit formed in her stomach the more she watched them fly in circles and random loop-de-loops from time-to-time. She could feel her own wings wanting to spread, and fly with them. But that was absurd…was it? The more she read about the Protectors, she grew more attracted to the idea of this group of peacekeepers.
Did she want to be a Protector?
The thought struck her like an arrow to the skull. Obviously she couldn’t, even if she would, which she will admit, she really does, the Flock couldn’t possibly allow such a thing.
But oh, the way they were able to fly so freely. No bounds or restrictions to keep them in place. The way they fought to bring justice not only to themselves but also to every creature of the Mystic Isles, it was truly admirable, remarkable, Vega admired the work they’ve done, and continue to do…
And she may have found her true purpose in life.