Feathers in the Wind

It was only a swiftly moving shadow against the stars before it attacked. The camel bucked and bellowed in the Roc's talons as it ascended with its prey. The grey panther reached for his twin daggers, and his snow leopard companion readied her throwing stars.

Jumping in front of them, I bellowed, "Put away your weapons!"

"Blast you, Ayasha!" Panthro cursed as the creature flew beyond their range, a distant shadow once more drifting amongst the stars. "Why did you stop Chandra and me!"

"The Roc is a sacred animal," I answered.

"It snatched a camel that carried our water!" Chandra protested.

"We can manage with the camels and supplies that remain. Oasis is only 2 days away."

"And should it attack again?" the white tigress asked. The slight fluttering of the mystic's long blue robe revealed her fear.

"It will not, Taima," I assured her. Not for the first time did I think that she was too young to be on this difficult journey. However, it was the vocation of mystics of the blue ray to travel and heal the sick.

Chandra pointed to the sky. "How can you be so certain that the danger has passed, Ayasha?"

"I was a Guardian." I hoped that observation still carried some weight with my companions.

The Thunderan warriors frowned, but protested no further. We were midway through our nightly trek, the rising breeze promising a further chilling of the air before dawn.

"It is best we move forward," Dah'ri commented. The golden desert cat leaned on his staff as he gazed skyward. He had seen a Roc before, judging from his pensive expression. From what I knew of his past, he searched for memories of the creature that were no longer in his mind. His strong hands held his staff so tightly that I thought the wood would splinter. I knew how he felt. Everyday since my Fall, my world had narrowed.

We would not travel any further that night. I caught Panthro's gaze, and he acknowledged my intent. With a wave of his hand, he gathered the other Thunderans into a circle. They set camp while the humans mourned. The Nomads who journeyed with us, and cared for the camels, began to wail. The loss of such a valuable animal was shocking to them, especially as she was of a noble lineage highly valued among their people. I added my laments to theirs out of respect for their loss. Around a comforting fire built by the Thunderans, music soon replaced anguished cries. Some of the Nomads had drawn their long flutes. They wove a calm acceptance of death with intricate melodies that offered a final prayer for the camel.

Three Thunderans returned to their tents. Dah'ri threw down a blanket by the fire, and rested on his side, quietly absorbing the restorative notes of the flute. I slipped away. The Roc always left behind a gift.

*****

The camp disappeared as I climbed over a dune. I offered my own prayer to the Goddess for the blessing of moonlight. I often envied the superior night vision of the Thunderans now that my own vision had human limitations. I scanned the sands for some time until I spied something that glinted.

For a Roc, it was a very small feather, about the size of one belonging to an eagle. But I had learned over a millennium that in magic it was the smallest objects that always held the greatest power. It could have been any color, but this feather was glossy black. Its range of uses was immense.

I slipped the feather into a pocket in my robe. It might be the key to alleviating the mysterious malaise I had experienced that had begun soon after leaving Lion-o's City. I had no desire to task our young mystic for a cure, or return home. My instinct told me that she had no healing for my affliction, whatever the ill was.

The sound of beating wings suddenly broke my reverie. The radiant figure robed in gold silk laughed as it landed on the shifting sand. "In that first second, you thought I was Surya, and your heart still leapt for the Key to all the Guardians. But as you can see, I am more handsome."

"Such insolence!" I exclaimed. It smarted fiercely that a higher being had made light of my lost love.

"Ever the Guardian," he said with a smirk, knowing it was no longer true.

I raised my arms. Protective spells were mine to invoke, although I had no chance against the powers of a winged god who wore the face and form of Lord Tygra for his own amusement.

"Peace, Ayasha, peace," he said soothingly.

"What do you want!"

"I am usually asked, 'Please help me, Lord Irri'in.'"

One never gets used to the thrill of meeting a divine being, even an annoying one. "I have no need of your help."

His tone grew serious. "Maybe not." He extended his hand, and I knew what he sought.

"Of what use is a Roc's feather to a god?"

"To ease greater suffering than what you are experiencing."

"Then summon Mrísena!"

"Gods work in mysterious ways, and the Guardians hold the world together by their sacrifice."

The gods of the Felinari seemed inclined to visit their people whether they had remained on Third Earth, or have traveled the stars to Thundera. The Goddess I had devoted myself to was the nurturing embodiment of Third Earth. Once those from the stars had abandoned us, Her sweet voice had guided me during my most difficult days as a Guardian. But She had never favored me with Her presence or a glimpse of Her ebony face, so much like my own. After many centuries, that fact still hurt.

Irri'in's amber eyes held innumerable secrets, but crinkled with tenderness. I handed him the feather knowing that his need and reason were greater than mine.

"Thank you for your sacrifice, Ayasha."

"I was selfish in my Fall because I could no longer stand being alone among many. I chose Tir'shan because I could not have Surya."

The god paid no mind to my self recriminations. "Unlike some who have shouldered the Guardian's burden, you were always wise. You have guided the world forward in creating Cenatua."

"I fear that she is the one who will break the circle, destroying it and the world. Many nights I have relinquished sleep with such worry."

Irri'in shook his long orange and white mane shot through with lightning bolt streaks of black. "The original Guardians from the stars did all that they could to save the world. Now Third Earth requires transformation. I have faith that one day your daughter will provide it, although her road will have many obstacles."

He held the feather aloft. "But tonight the world is in need of some special healing. Surya has stood strong, but in Kai'la'sa, the earth finally trembles with his inescapable sorrow."

"After all this time, he misses me," I whispered, and not for the first time doubted my actions.

"The past has flown. New challenges await you, Ayasha," Irri'in added firmly, seeing my distress. The brilliance around him began to diminish. "Many, including Tir'shan, will come to depend on your hard won wisdom."

"What of the Ri'sar'ri?" I asked in concern for the understanding soul I had chosen to facilitate my Fall. Only with the prospect of my journey had we broached the tenuousness of our relationship.

"Remember one thing: Balance," Irri'in warned as he dissolved into the wind.

"I am still trying to figure that one out for myself," a weary voice remarked.

"Dah'ri!" I said as I spun about to face him.

"Irri'in is the embodiment of knowledge, but he leaves much for us to discover, so that we may learn," he said, and offered a fragrant red rose.

He had known as much loss as I, maybe more. I took a deep breath of the heady blossom, and the pain in my heart lessened. "Not blue this time, but red. You surprise me, Dah'ri."

He inclined his staff toward the camp, the sleeve of his robe rustling with the movement. "Come sit with me by the fire."

*****

The giant tiger's silky white fur striped with honey markings glistened with frost. The tears that fell from his amber eyes dropped to the ground as glittering diamonds. The snowy wind howled and swirled above him in fury, the vortex a manifestation of his agony. It buffeted the golden feathers of his enormous wings, and threatened to break them. The luminous hairs of his flowing pale mane whipped about his head like maddened serpents. Surya's deep voice rose in a plea of despair that split the sides of the towering mountain walls that surrounded him.

A single black feather suddenly materialized at the Guardian's feet, small solace for all he had endured over the millennia. The blizzard lessened. One last diamond tear fell as the valley floor flooded with light.

*****

The murmurs of camels blew away my dream. Perhaps I had indeed helped to heal the wound I had caused.

The sky started to lighten. Soon the others would stir from their tents. My head still rested against Dah'ri's warm thigh. His scent was more spice than musk, and I was loathe to stir from my comfortable and intoxicating position beside him. The priest of Dandara looked to the west, and had not noticed that I had awakened.

I thought back to the form he once wore. Anyone would mistake him for one of the starborn then, but he was a suffering stranger from another dimension. He had wielded enough spiritual power to almost destroy Mumm-Ra, a disturbance that had gotten my attention in Sanctuary. On that day, he had died, and had disappeared from the net of my awareness.

But Irri'in would not let him rest. Dah'ri had known death and rebirth as few other had. By the god's will, he had returned to Third Earth from the realms between worlds as one of the Felinari. Or so the stories I had heard from the mystics went. I wondered then how he had accepted both his physical transformation, and the loss of his past life. His reaction to the Roc told me that frustration often marked his days.

He suddenly looked down at me, as if he had caught my thoughts. Old eyes set in a young face. Very disconcerting. I suppose the same could be said of me.

"They are coming," he stated.

"Who?"

"Those whom we seek."

"Like you?"

The slight frown that formed on his lips suggested that although the desert cats of Oasis might now be his genetic kin, he had yet to grow comfortable considering himself one of that race.

"Yes, like me," he admitted reluctantly.

I pulled myself up into a sitting position. "How do you know?"

"I have see them in the unexpected visions that descend upon me. Word of our journey from others that have crossed the desert has reached them. They should be here soon after dawn."

I lightly touched his hand, and he did not flinch. We were both still discovering ourselves. "Irri'in has favored you."

He laughed, a pleasant ripple of mirth that unexpectedly caused heat rush to my face. "I may have received some special gifts from Irri'in, but I will age and die just like any of the Felinari. I am not any kind of a god, Ayasha. I am just a priest of Dandara who also serves Irri'in."

For that is what fate dealt you, I thought. "You wear power, strength and purity, Dah'ri, no matter the fabric woven for you by destiny." What compelled me to make such an bold observation was a mystery; the effect of my words enlightened me.

Dah'ri's lips parted slightly as if he would speak, but he kept his comment to himself. He clearly struggled with an internal dialogue that I knew to be need, for in that moment I felt the same rising of desire. We each quickly extinguished the flame. He reached for a stick to stir the dying embers of the campfire, while I got up and walked away.

The eastern sky had taken on the delicate pink hue of a flower. Someone brushed my consciousness as lightly as a feather, and as warmly as a kiss. I wondered what had made him dream of me? I sat with the echo of the intimate touch laced with an emotion I could not define. Not for the first time did I miss Tir'shan, and the life I had casually set aside. On this dawning summer day I wondered how he fared, and if my baby had forgotten her mother.

The priest rose from his place by the fire, and silently moved toward the western edge of camp. Curiosity replaced my sadness and guilt as I followed him.

Three figures approached. I found my right hand in Dah'ri's left. The adventure I had sought had finally begun. I prayed that I could the pay price that it would eventually demand.