Tales from the Earthen Sky

“This Harbinger is a messenger from the lords above,” Otto said. “A shapeshifting being of immense power. The Magnates fear him, though they are more afraid of those who sent him. It appears the creature hushed them to silence concerning his masters and the details of his message, but Victus and Revel were more than willing to give out some more information. Dear?”

The old man gestured, and a speckle-winged woman of some sixty years approached the podium. His daughter, Grandaunt Prisca. Greying hair showed her age, but she walked with the indominable energy her father had once possessed. She joined Otto, and he stepped aside to let her speak. “As soon as the Harbinger left Fenaback yesterday evening, I approached the Magnates and wrung some details out of them. Victus says he came bearing an ultimatum from the lords above.”

She eyed the group, as if waiting for one of her more vocal relatives to interrupt. It wasn’t often that the Magnates used phrases like “lords above,” but most in the room were familiar with the concept. Rulers who dwelt within or beyond the Earth. The thought that such a force, or forces, had a hand in the goings-on of the Great Sky was an uncomfortable one, yet undeniable—for who appointed the Magnates? Who gave them the powers they possessed, which far outstripped the most potent elementalists?

She waited but a few seconds, and not a murmur. Thus she continued: “He refused to give details, but it was an ultimatum from a certain high power of the Earth, one that is bored of the current rate of events. We don’t know just how much of the sky he has visited, but it is a lot. They say the Tapiq were the first. When the Harbinger returns, he expects compliance from the Magnates, and he will most likely change the proceeding of the games. If, true to his word, that is all he means.”

Phoenix crossed her arms, and was not alone in the gesture. Her own Magnates would never have shared that much information, even with the headman.

Laughter came from behind and to the left of Phoenix. Granduncle Titus. “Well, that makes sense, seeing they’re the hermits who wall themselves off from the world.”

He glanced around, catching a few looks that seemed to say, Yeah, we know. He gave a grunt, squared his shoulders, and sat back down in his seat.

“So this man, this . . . creature . . . is returning at the annual festival?” asked Lady Cana. The condescension in her tone was typical of Phoenix’s Flameborn aunt.

Lady Prisca looked from the seated family members to her father, who stood beside her. “Indeed, from the sound of it.”

Otto addressed the gathering again in his raspy tone: “What then should be our course of action?”

And so began the meeting in earnest. One said one thing, and so on until the proposals and counter-proposals reached the end of logic and spilled into the realm of chaotic dissonance. Phoenix was just about ready to cover her ears and pretend she was elsewhere—this was the part she always hated—when Uncle Callo stood up. As yet, no one had stood, and this man had both a presence and a reputation. Callo Dolce, firstborn of Atlo and Veya Dolce and eldest of the third generation. Had Falla stood up, no one would have paid her any mind, but this tall Stormborn, who flew on wings like crackling thunderclouds and possessed rare electric powers to boot, he was the pride of the Dolce family and respected by all. Even Falla.

“Let there be order,” he said calmly in his rich voice. It was the sort of voice that need not be raised, because everyone is already listening. “I hear multiple calls to pressure our Magnates for more information, suggestions that we send envoys to the surrounding isles . . . someone mentioned mobilizing some of our warriors?”

No one spoke for a few moments, until Granduncle Titus raised a hand and said, “That was me.” He looked around, not guiltily but as though curious who might call him out for being foolish. He certainly didn’t look worried about Callo’s opinion of him, though that was normal.

“I will admit,” Otto said from the podium, “that last thought came to my mind as well. But all of those are good options. Perhaps we ought to combine them?”

Once more, there was discussion, but a bit more orderly this time. Callo wanted to send out warriors to the surrounding islands to back up the Magnates in case of danger from the Harbinger—which, to Phoenix, seemed a rather prideful move. Driv Shannaset spoke up to say that it could be risky and required great tact. This point was agreed by many, as the agreement between the Alliance of Wings mandated that they communicate before such a move, not to mention the leaders in Megeth may simply be too prideful to accept help.

Eventually, Marcus stood up to ask, “Do we even have any idea if we can combat this Harbinger at all? If even the Magnates are afraid of him, then maybe that is reason for—” He cut off as heads turned to stare at him. “Just a thought.” He quickly sat back down, looking a bit embarrassed, and Rena patted his arm.

He’s got a point . . .

“The Magnates are cowards,” Callo said boldly. It was indeed a bold thing to say. “They practically worship the masters who gave them their power, but their loyalty is largely sycophantic.”

A few heads nodded, while others looked like they would if only they knew what that word meant. Others murmured in trepidation, and some outright objected, but disagreement was quickly becoming the minority. In the end, Otto decided that they would send out envoys to the surrounding islands to get an idea of how their Magnates and leaders felt about the Harbinger’s warning. Perhaps the Alliance of Wings would call a meeting of the ten tribes to discuss a course of action, but most likely they would only stall, waiting to see what came about at the festival. Meanwhile, the Dolce would talk with the other families of Fenaback and pressure the Magnates of the island until they revealed their plans regarding the festival. At this time, everything appeared to be in motion, but the Magnates seemed to be heavily revising their plans for the event.

Phoenix could only imagine what her own people were thinking right now as they waited in the agonizing silence of their Magnates to hear what the festival would bring. She drew in a long breath, glancing at her mother beside her with eyes just wide enough to convey how she felt. This elicited a small smile on Falla’s face, who patted her leg and leaned over to whisper, “I know. Patience.”

Coming from the hot-tempered Dustborn, that was a humbling admonition.

The meeting went on for another hour, and after that was a meal. During this time, Phoenix tried to smile, enjoy her food and be polite; she really tried her best. Fortunately, not too many were concerned with her at all, even though she lived on Ameros, a hot topic of discussion tonight. Her cousin Erika, who was also staying in Megeth for her training at the academy, would act as the ambassador the family wanted. Just into her twenties, the woman was not only tall and fair but a much better speaker than Phoenix—and generally better in most ways. She took this with gracious smiles and nods, the kind that made Phoenix’s lips want to curl back in a contradictory rictus.

The family prevailed on Phoenix and her mother to stay the night. They had a room on the southern wing that was technically theirs but had been used as a guest room for many years—that is to say, not used at all. Guests were not really a thing on Isle Fenaback, not among the great families.

As Phoenix lay on the large down-lined bed beside her mother, she thought on the last time they’d stayed here: two years back, at the annual reunion. There had been no momentous events to speak of, not like the Harbinger’s grand arrival. Someone had just been married; that was about it. But there had been a terrible storm that night. . . . Most sky roosts, particularly those built by master craftsmen, were constructed to stand any wind thrown against them, anchored by their strong timber exoskeletons, but strong winds howled through the gaps like hungry wolves. Tonight, all was quiet save for distant murmurs of conversation and the occasional disturbances from upstairs, made by the boisterous few.

She thought of Solis, and the day she’d saved his life. The day she’d accidentally found her first friend apart from her mother. Followed shortly by Telsan, the kind bird boy. She never would have admitted it, and perhaps even now would not, but Falla had always been a friend. Watching her back rise and fall with her breaths, her loose steely hair trailing under the covers, Phoenix was comforted by the fact that Falla was the only one who knew her here, in this place of cold familial bonds.

The night was an unusually warm one, giving way to a cool front that crept over Isle Ameros with stealthy rain. In the morning, the revolving Sun glistened off the grass and trees, dark and painted with the distinctive sheen of a good rain. Solis remarked to himself that they must have missed the rainbow due to the night, because it sure seemed like rainbow weather.

“Don’t you think, Telsan?” Solis asked as he walked, glancing at his friend. They were just south of Phoenix and her mother’s house, coming by to check and make sure she was all right without swooping right down and drawing attention in the neighborhood. Not that people didn’t steal glances at them from their houses regardless.

“I do,” Telsan said. “About what?”

Solis shot him a wry smile. “Come on, brother.” Then he paused, losing the smile as he realized he had not, in fact, clued Telsan in on what he was thinking about. “Oh. I meant . . . the rain, don’t you think this would have been prime rainbow weather had it rained in the morning instead of overnight?” Rainbows could also come during the midday Hiding, but were rarer and played in the clouds below instead of reaching for the overhead rain clouds.

Telsan inspected the ground underfoot, then frowned up at him with pursed beak. (which, in fact, looks just like a normal closed beak.) “Never thought of that before.” He didn’t exactly say it with interest, but Solis could tell he was at least a little bit intrigued by the thought. Or . . . maybe that was the feeling he projected onto him.

“All right, here we are,” Solis said, gesturing at the low stoop of the Dolce house. “What do you . . . oh, hey.” He approached and retrieved the note that had been left propped against the door’s threshold.

Telsan peered discreetly through the slits in the shuttered windows as Solis retrieved and unfurled the note, coming to the same conclusion: Mrs. Dolce and her daughter were not home.

Solis skimmed the note and then read it to his friend: “‘Solis, left with Mother for a family meeting at Fenaback. We should be back tonight, maybe tomorrow (Fifth Sun). It’s about the Harbinger—apparently, he showed up all around the Southeast Sky, not just Megeth.’”

Telsan appeared to repress a joke at how the letter was only addressed to Solis, but apparently thought better of it. Who else would be so insistent that they learn why she wasn’t at the Valley?

Solis eyed him. “Think we ought to tell the Magnates?”

Telsan rolled his eyes. “I’m sure they already know. But, I mean . . . wait, you really want to march up and tell them this?”

“If they need to know, yeah. Who’s to say they’ve heard? Phoenix’s mother always said the Magnates of Fenaback don’t act the same as ours. So I assume she found out from her family, who found out from their Magnates. Ours keep to themselves so tightly, I think they barely communicate with the other tribes.” Probably from embarrassment.

Telsan made a noncommittal sound suspiciously like a sigh. “I mean, if you want to then go ahead. But anyway, she should be back today. Now we know.” He turned around and began walking in the other direction, his posture indicating he would soon take flight.

“Where are you going?” Solis asked, tucking the note into his belt.

“Nothing left here. Gonna go train. You coming or what?”

It was Solis’ turn to sigh. “Of course.” Inwardly, however, he was trying to decide when would be the best time to take the note to the Magnates. He didn’t care that they might not need the information; he wanted the excuse to squeeze more info out of them. If he annoyed them in the process, well . . . he didn’t mind that, either.

Characters

Solis Lightwing (SOLE-iss)—The main character, a white-winged boy of unceasing curiosity who longs to see inside the forbidden Earth.

Telsan (TELL-suhn)—Solis’ best friend, a young man of the Bird Tribe.

Phoenix Dolce (DOLE-chay)—Friend of Solis and Telsan, a Flameborn girl of sixteen years. Daughter of Falla Dolce.

Melka—One of the three living Tapiq Magnates.

Donnor—Said to be the eldest of the three living Magnates.

Spore—One of the three living Magnates. Doesn’t say much.

Fey—Solis’ deceased grandmother, a former Magnate.

Falla Dolce—Phoenix's mother, a Dustborn from a powerful elementalist family of Fenaback. Kept her family name due to unfortunate events she'd rather leave buried.

Otto Dolce—Old but strong leader in his elementally gifted clan, which consists mostly of his own direct descendants.

Marcus—Cousin of Falla.

Titus—Marcus's father, son of Otto and uncle of Falla.

Rena (RAY-nuh)—Marcus's bride-to-be.

Cana Shannaset (CAY-nuh SHAN-uh-set)—A Flameborn Dolce, elder sister of Falla.

Driv Shannaset—Husband of Cana. A Snowborn.

Callo Dolce—Eldest brother of Falla and Cana, old enough to be Phoenix's grandfather. A Stormborn.

Erika—Daughter of Marcus's elder brother and cousin of Phoenix, currently in training with a courier at the school in Megeth.

Harbinger, The—A beastlike messenger cloaked in darkness, sent from the lords of the Earth for as-yet-unknown motives.

Atlo Dolce—Grandfather of Phoenix, father of Callo, Cana and Falla.

Veya—Atlo's wife. Both are now deceased.

Victus—A Magnate of Fenaback.

Revel—A female Magnate of Fenaback.

Prisca (PRISS-kuh)—Sister of Atlo and Titus Dolce, a frequent liaison between the family and the Magnates.

Terms

Megeth (Meh-GETH)—Hometown of Solis and his fellow Tapiq people.

Ameros (AM-uh-ros)—Largest island in the southeastern quadrant of the sky, where the Tapiq village of Megeth lies.

Fenaback—Also called the Isle of Colors, this island is home to many elementalists, including powerful families such as the Dolce clan.

Castile (cah-STEEL)—The city at Fenaback's center. More a hub of trade and industry than of power, as that lies with the old families who rule the tribe from their great roosts.

Tapiq (tuh-PEEK)—The tribe of winged men who dwell in Ameros and the surrounding islands. As with most tribes, they have adopted some from other tribes and races as their own, while others are visitors.

Hiding, The—The six hours in the middle of the day when the Sun’s low-angled course takes it behind the infinite cloud layer that looms beneath the sky world.

Earth, The—Ground, dirt, namely the gigantic continent that looms above the sky. Forbidden to all save those whom the Magnates choose each year.

Magnate—One of the three living souls of the Tapiq tribe who have ascended to the Earth and returned, bearing supposedly infinite knowledge that they choose to keep hidden.

Stone Valley, The—A deep, rocky ravine cut into the eastern flank of Megeth, used by youths like Solis for aerial training.

Hiding, The—The six hours in the middle of the day when the Sun’s low-angled course takes it behind the infinite cloud layer that looms beneath the sky world.

Alliance—The Alliance of Wings is a group of ten tribes encompassing most of the charted sky. They have had a peaceful history for the past decade.

Lords Above—Shadowy figures of lore, called by many names, said to rule the Earth and/or the worlds above.

Fifth (First–Seventh, etc.) Sun—Refers to Friday. This is how the people of the Sky refer to the days of their week.

Kinships

Elementalist—One born with a Kinship to an elemental force. They represent one of multiple types of Kinships.

Flameborn—Those blessed with Kinship to the power of flame. They are characterized by their lack of wings, as they form their own as needed from tongues of fire that sprout from their backs.

Dustborn—Manipulators of soil and dust. They fly with wings created from nearby dust particles.

Windborn—Kin of the wind. Unlike other elementalists, these often grow wings just like any other, though some are blessed with a heightened ability allowing them to fly without wings—and thus lacking them.

Waveborn—Also called Watchers, they control the invisible wards that protect the sky islands from falling hazards. Also includes those with the rare ability of sound manipulation.

Wards—Magical barriers put in place by the Magnates and managed by the Watchers.

Dewborn—Those who can control moisture and redirect water.

Stormborn—Creators of small storms and electrical currents.

Snowborn—Bringers of frost and snow on a small scale.

Sunborn—Manipulators of light.

Beastborn—These rare kind are seen largely only in the northwestern isles, and actually come in different orders, each with an affinity to a certain class of living creature.