CHAPTER 4: ECHOES OF TIDES PAST

On the roof of the Hall, the sun was bright. And it was hard to say whether the gleam it made in a single drop of water was more or less bright than the flash that fell from the blade in Sonea’s hands. But the tear that gleamed fell from her cheek to the blade she bore, and the greedy whetstone in her hand ate both.

TaleSpinner had her oft used place also on the roof. She gazed out long and far over the southern waters and seemed not to notice tear or a blade that even now was sharp enough to make the wind bleed. But not all times is seeming True Flame…

“ If they come, then not thy Zealot there, nor any other blade will slay them. For they will not come…�

TaleSpinner’s voice was calm, but strange, almost distant.

“ If they come, they will not come… to use a word I have oft heard another speak, then Pfah! Ye sound just like he… it… they… No matter. The rider may live, but if the one it rides is lost, then it is no concern to me. Not till my blade is at a throat of it’s owning, and then we shall see… oh indeed we will…�

There was none of distance to Sonea’s words. They fell like ice in fire, both hot with anger and cold with purpose.

“ I told him… it… them… oh, fardles. It speaks of it, so I suppose I must too. Long ago I said I was but a crafter at heart, and war was not for me. And True Flame it was then, but that was then. We have danced a step or three, and it seems I have some small skill, and I will admit to some joy in the use of that skill. And beyond that there is a debt that is to be paid, and not mine alone that dept or payment. But a blade I bear, and not a blade alone. But right you are, and twice right. No blade alone will set this to right being. Not blade nor bolt nor any other thing. For they are called, but they will not sit to meat. They are more, they are less, they prattle of honour and choosing…. WHERE ARE THE FIVE? They will let it Fall forever that this thing might pass from them… and they know not… They know not and they do not even ask!�

Anger she spoke, aye and sorrow and pain also. But more than those it seemed she spoke as though she and the one she spoke of were alone in a world that had little of care about it.

TaleSpinner again turned to the ocean close by, but it seemed her eyes looked well beyond.

“ For the Five… for those I cannot speak. But for what was… that is the Tale’s domain. And of the Tale, then of that I have words, and for reasons ye well know, none better. But there is much there, Sonea Fair, and not all of brightness. Have a care for thy wishing, that it might be granted to thy sorrow… But it will be as it will. And it was as it was. And the Hall… as ever the Hall but waits its time. And that time is come again. Let them gather this night, for the words dance in me and they seek a wider company…�

And so it was.

As evening fell, those of Mia’s Edge gathered to the Hall. The Fall was falling most fast, and as they walked there theyounglings would make the air dance with the fire of fallen leaves. Red and gold and russet brown… And there was much of eagerness, for the Tales were most wonderous, but Summer held many delights of equal wonder. But as Fall fell and Winter seemed to come closer to their doors, the lure of bright company and warm fires and the Hall grew bright and brighter.

And when they drew near to the Hall, they saw Sonea standing at that the door, and for those that knew the knowing of such things, the Zealot was at her belt. And it seemed to some that as she greeted them, she would first peer at them most closely, though that one was one she knew well. And Flozzie stood apart for a moment and watched her, but not a word did he speak.

And as ever, TaleSpinner waited patient before them. And the ghost flames flickered and started to rise, and the childer began their chant…

"A tale... a tale.... a tale...."

But as TaleSpinner started to speak, Flozzie stood up. And at last he spoke.

" It seems the old days are come again, and with them the old ways might well have cause to be among us. And old is old, aye, but I am dwarf… and dwarfs do not forget."

And Flozzie stood forward and walked to where TaleSpinner stood.

" Make the claw, scale-friend. But take care, for it would be a terrible thing for the lands to lose such beauty as mine…"

And it seemed TaleSpinner looked to Sonea, and she gave the smallest of nods. And TaleSpinner gently caressed Flozzie’s cheek, and it seemed her tongue flicked out and kissed him. And she looked again at Sonea, and no word she spoke. And Sonea took her hand from Zealot and took her seat.

"Did ye ever hear tell of Thunder and Lightning? Of the Fool and the Fair?"

It is said in these later tides that the dance of drakes that seek the Shattered Stone, a dance of the winds, is the most wonderous thing that might occur in any sky save one, and that one being the dance of a passing Ancient. But it is also said that none might see the second, and any that seek to watch the first should best have skin that laughs at fire and claw. And be but the most abject boor besides.

The tide that was then, no Ancient had yet fallen so. And no Stone, Shattered nor yet Single, had yet been made. And the wind dance even then spread itself across the sky, it had more direct purpose. But still it was not a thing for another to watch. And while MorDin’s brother feared no fire, he was, he hoped, no boor besides. And this was no pair-dance, truly… not quite…

The two that danced owned all the sky. MorDin StarSong was no dull lack of colour, but a black that had shine to put diamond to shame. And the red… Hanukar Frostwing was fire and sunset and sunrise and… the red twitched a little in flight. Seeing, MorDin’s brother damped down the ardour of his thoughts. He slipped a little sideways on a wing and slid into the veil of a cloud. Even for one so big as an adult dragon, when so few seek to notice in the first place, the arts of fleeing others eyes come far too easily…

The wind was no zephyr and the cloud slid across the sky. If it seemed a little greener than other clouds, then clouds had strange habits… and who looked too close? When the dancing pair were far behind, the green dragon spilled air from his wings and dropped to the mountains below where his clan made their stance.

His clan? MorDin’s, aye. MorDin Sky Warrior, MorDin Maker, MorDin clan brother. And the other? Of days that dawned bright for the spirit of a green drake, MorDin’s brother. Of days less bright, LifeThief, or the youngling call – MorGot, which was their manner of speaking for ‘ MorDin’s Maggot’. And of most days?

Of most tides, nothing. No word, no glance. None kept him from food or shelter, but any that came near and found him close found also sudden matters of need elsewhere. And all the knowing they might show of his presence was a look of sympathy cast to MorDin if he was near. Save one… for of a time might Hanukar come near. And none might take ill the deeds of a daughter of Kuldar RockBurner. None that sought to see another sun rise in any save the fire of their own burning, that was… And she would come by, to seek word of some place Suldarion had flown, or ask of the finding of this rock or that gem, for a drake such as Suldarion was had much of time to take wing, and single borne on wing was better far than clan gathered and yet still alone. And of a tide, the best of tides, then she would come, and take stance, and… sit. Silent. And each moment would be a new dawn in Suldarion’s eyes. Till again she would speak, and most all times ask some asking of MorDin and his deeds… but each single candle flicker before was worth each question and all.

No place was Suldarion’s. But there was a place that, by some silent agreement, few went. A place that had no purpose and thus fitting for one that shared its nature. And there Suldarion took him. For the tale of his birthing had reached his ears on many winds, and all bearing his name as death bringer to one honoured by the clan. And it was… easier… that the clan had no need to see that death before them without need.
And thus the place he had of his by default of others’ will was a place of silence. And silence is fitting company to the hunter…

It had come to Suldarion thus. Of many a tide had he taken him to the silent place. And in sooth, that silence did not bear ill, for it was his nature to seek no company save his own if some clan duty did not call. No company save one… and that one came, but in no wise oft enow for his seeking. And thus, of a tide, he would take stance at the mouth of the silent place. And he would stare out and far over the lands, and he would talk. Talk to Hanukar. And at first these words would be but musings on the winds, or the day or some thought or manner of craft. But of a tide… of a tide, Suldarion had come to feel more at peace as he spoke. And he had found it an easy thing to make imagining of Hanukar’s presence in stance, just out of sight, that he might feel her company. And it seemed no ill, or if woe then small, that he used her memory so. And as he grew used to so talking, that while alone he was not yet alone, it seemed more and more or ease, that he had to make no effort at all to feel her sat behind his shoulder, and even of a time to come close to hearing her reply.

Until the day.

For of that day he had been in the silent place. And he had ‘ told’ Hanukar of a thing he had seen, where the falling rock blood made like unto a falling water as it spilled over a wall of rock. And the manner of its falling was most strange, for the rock blood was spread thin over the wall, and the wall had fallen away behind, and set in the wall was a great and mighty crystal. And the sun would set behind the crystal and burn through the falling rock blood, and the rock blood would shimmer and twist in the light as the sun died. And none other had Suldarion told of this. But of a later tide… then had he come to the clan place. And there was MorDin, and MorDin spoke of making some long seeking… for it seemed that Hanukar Frostwing had spoken of some dream she had had while seeming waking… and the dreaming had been of rock blood that fell like water, and a great crystal that burned with the sun’s fire…
And Suldarion had taken him to the silent place, and long had been his thinking and little his sleeping that tide.

And thus had come his hunt. For he had made trial, and he had ‘ told’ Hanukar of things that none other had been told, and she had come to know them. And he had taken a thing of hers, a jewel she treasured, while she was gone and hidden it, and she had sought it long. And then he had ‘ told’ her of the hiding place, and lo! The place came to her to seek and the jewel was found! And Suldarion had sought more, and he would seek to bring the feeling of Hanukar to his shoulder, and rather than bespeak her, make trial to let her being speak to him. And of a time he could feel if wind played on her wing, or the direction of sun, and even feel some tugging at his own wing of the direction she might be from him. And of a rare time, some small word might reach his ear, though none was there to speak it, and he knew that it was a word heard by Hanukar.

And with tide and more of tide, Suldarion had sought to hunt this thing with other than Hanukar. And it seemed that with those he had more knowing of, there was some small success, but none near so great as Hanukar. And with the one he knew best and worst… of MorDin he could never have the feeling that that one was close. And each time he tried, it seemed that a great cliff did fall away where he would have MorDin stand behind him, and that Suldarion was like to fall and fall forever if he ceased not the hunt… and cease he did. Where MorDin was prey in any wise…

But indeed the hunt continued. For as Suldarion did seek to follow this wind further, it became clear that in some fashion the primal flows of wind and rock and all that was near were set dancing by his seeking. And in some wise, as he did seek, there grew a patterning of primal flows that, when he did seek those that he ‘ spoke’ to in closer company, did match the primal flows that danced within each and all, but matched to that one most close. And thus he came to call the thing he summoned a ‘ primal echoing’, and he did seek to ever match that echo more close to the one it matched. And there came a tide that it seemed most well that this was so. And that tide was… now.

It was a night of wind and storm. The rain fled before the wind like tiny steel daggers. The cloud reach was ripped in twain by the sky bolts and the voices the sky bolts raised would drown a falling mountain. But Suldarion loved the storms… for the silent place became an island of calm in their midst, and he could at last think him alone truly and with his own place and honour. Well, not quite alone… And as was his wont, he did take stance at the mouth. And as he did, he started to take thought that Hanukar was stood near, just ‘scaping the limit of his seeing… and as so often times, she…. NO! She came not!

Hanukar’s primal echo did not come to his seeking. And a seeking it was, not some summoning. For it was work of magery and mind to set the local primal flows dancing in close step with the distant pattern of some other. And this was not a thing that Suldarion had come to know, for Hanukar alone had seemed to match spirit to echo most swift at his seeking. And a fear set itself about Suldarion’s spirit. But those that called and laughed of MorGot had not seen Suldarion set nose to wind and fly to the teeth of a storm, or spend a hundred wakings to polish but a single scar from a gem’s face. And a fear? A fear was but a spur to the spirit that the storm it raised be ridden… and Suldarion set his spirit to search further and wider, even as the storm’s roil did set the primal flows of the air to flit and flee, and no compass did it seem there might be to his journey.

And on that day, though none would know it then and Suldarion not either, did he win the name he would bear, if not his last. For Suldarion WindSeer was born. And the echo of his own primal nature he set to fly the primal winds, and the winds did tear and the sky bolts burn ( for even the sky bolts do bear primal nature and rend the place he went). But there was no breaking the echo beat of primal wings, no any burn that might cast him from the sky. And at last, far and far, he heard… and echo. But faint it was. And it seemed that it had less of balance and less of timbre each time it came. And Suldarion reached… and reached…… and reached……….. And. Found.

Hanukar it was. Hanukar Frostwing, Hanukar that danced the skies. But these skies were no frame for her dancing. And alone she flew, though flew was no small exaggeration of her passage. And though Suldarion had no seeing of her physical form, the primal did echo that form in all parts. And the primal… was failing. And while any other might seek the land to take respite, below Hanukar’s echo was the roiled turbulence of the primal flows of water, and that stretched as far as might Suldarion seek. And the water beckoned its most final greeting.

And by any word or will of Suldarion, that greeting would go unanswered!

In a manner it had never sought trial before, Suldarion no longer sought to craft echo of Hanukar’s primal form. Rather, he set his will to match the form he had cast to hers. And this was much more of task than melding the flows of air and rock, that had pattern but much of an unformed nature, to echo another. For his form was his, and it well knew that pattern. But of all things, Suldarion had will and that matched by need unbounded. And his primal echo did start to shiver and twist, till two patterns danced there, though his was not lost. And one part was of Suldarion, and the other an echo of Hanukar. And Suldarion set his pattern about that of Hanukar, and he did set his primal wings to beat, and in a wise to bear them both… and it seemed that some manner of power or nature or fire flowed between them. And the Hanukar pattern did cease to beat wing, but it also made gain of nature. And though each wing beat was less of strength than the last, Suldarion did fly the primal winds. And at last the echo of land came to his sense, and at last his own wings took close to ceasing… and Hanukar woke, and as though startled, her primal form took its own wing beat whole and… she flew.

And at last the primal sky held no place for Suldarion. But where the water flows had waited, now ran the pulse of rock blood. And to the rock blood it fell… and in the silent place, the body of Suldarion fell also, fell and fallen and silent.

And of a tide and a tide, in a place called silent, a drake woke from it seemed a long sleeping. And it was thin and cold, and it had hunger and lacked strength. But it woke, and it took him to the lands and found sustenance. And it gathered strength. And of a time, it found a path to the clan place, and it heard how Hanukar had come storm lost, and how she had thought her beyond saving. But her spirit was strong and she had found land…

And thus it was that Suldarion fell. For the first time, aye. But not the last… indeed not…

The dancing fire sprites that ‘companied TaleSpinner’s words more as the year turned began to sink. As the flames died, the Hall began to darken. With a sudden flare, the flames rose again, and were gone. And with them… TaleSpinner. And the speaking place stood most empty.

And as ever they did, those waiting waited still. For sure it was there would be some sign, some change to the Hall’s nature to mark this Tale’s telling. And of a moment or so, a glow came to a part of the wall where none had been before. And Flozzie did stand and mark it well. And the image of a red dragon flew, and low it flew. And beneath it was the suggestion of a grasping wave.

“ Aye. The Hanukar flies still. May she reach land soon…�

And he turned to leave. But as he did, one spoke forth from the other side of the Hall.

“ Flozzie, ye daftie! It seems Sonea must look closer to her barrels! It is the green one, the Suldarion drake!�

And Flozzie stopped, and close he stepped to the speaking place, and closer looked at the flying dragon. And an eye he cocked at Sonea, who stood yet silent. And he stumped him over to where the other stood, and he looked again. And again he looked at Sonea, and his cocked eye seemed to seek to climb above his brow.

“ Come ye with me�, he spoke to the one who had questioned him. And the twain took them to where Flozzie had stood.

“ Why, from here it is red!� and his companion ran from one side of the Hall to the other.

“ And green!� “ And red!� “ And green!�…

And the childer did take delight, and they did run forth and fro, that they might see this magery. And many a grown one stepped a pace or two quicker, caught up in the frolic.

And Flozzie stepped closer to Sonea, and his voice was low, that none might hear.

“ Red, aye. And green, that too. But I passed ye by as I walked my to and fro, and the image did glow in thine eyes. And I saw that color also. I will not speak till ye do, but know not all the old tales are lost. And we remember the mountains, aye and the young ones that we saw no more…�

And Flozzie walked from the Hall.