The Quest for the Crystals: The Book of Wind by E.E. Blake
2. Road to the Stone Zephyr
The road that both this cloaked swordsman and General Uriost chose to tread seemed to Regina to last forever. After a while of tailing the mysterious rogue, her ears perked at something what sounded like the howl of banshees amidst the rustling leaves overhead.
She ducked around a shrub and squinted through a bare patch within the crisscross of tree branches that shrouded her from view. In the near distance, Regina saw the hooded animal come across a divide in the forest, marked by two high marble retaining walls on either side of the road, guarded by two large pillars. Beyond the marble divide, Regina noticed a harsh gale that coursed between the branches and leaves of the forest’s path.
“What is this place?” Regina wondered. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the cloaked animal pass between the two pillars. The wind caught up the loose ends of his cloak, but the rogue pressed onward, unbothered.
Regina slipped out of the brush and saw that atop the pillars stood an identical pair of eagle statues, posed in mid-flight; wings spread wide, eyes focused with talons extended for a ready attack.
The skunk eyed the wind-blown path beyond, and waited until the hooded animal was a long ways ahead before she continued onward.
Although Regina expected the windy assault, she was still surprised by its strength when she passed between the pillars. The heavy, screeching, gale that danced with her fur and the loose ends of her frock was warm, at least, and that was all she could ask for.
After a time, they came to the edge of a cliff that oversaw a rocky valley laced with the same eagle-tipped pillars as before. Directly beyond the valley floor stood a second cliff that bore a steep stone staircase, up to a grand-looking peak-roofed shrine of some sort, built directly into the cliff’s face.
Regina had never seen such a magnificent structure in her life. Not even the university in Mecia was as astonishing. She slunk a bit to keep out of sight when the hooded rogue suddenly came back up the path. Regina held her breath while the animal walked past her with large steps. His cloak fluttered open, and she saw his black-furred paw upon the hilt of the white sword at his hip.
He didn’t notice her, however, and it was then that Regina realized that there was a strange smell in the air that she hadn’t noticed until just then.
The hooded swordsman came to a full stop in the path and sniffed the air. He let out a low growl, and continued up the path.
Regina furrowed her brow. The smell was strong. Musky. It was definitely equine – except she couldn’t figure out where the odour wafted from. Her ears then perked to the sound of a stray whinny amidst the wind’s howl.
The hooded animal heard the sound as well and continued up the path, around a corner from where Regina had followed him from. Regina took the time to better inspect the cliff that overlooked the rocky valley terrain. Like the opposite cliff face, there was a steep, stone, staircase that led down into the valley.
“What is this place?” she wondered aloud after a survey of the perimeter and the shrine across the way from where she stood at the top step. The wind picked up stronger and caught hold of Regina’s hood, throwing it over her eyes. As she pushed the fabric back, Regina thought she saw something move down in the valley by one of the middle-most pillars.
She didn’t know how long it would be until the rogue returned, and so hid back inside the safety of the roadside underbrush.
The hooded rogue returned shortly thereafter. Regina watched with held breath as he also surveyed the pillar-dotted valley. He then started to descend the stone steps.
Regina waited until the cloaked animal was about halfway down the steep staircase until she withdrew from the foliage and followed him.
If it wasn’t for the fact that the stairs were so well-built, the sharp slope into the valley would have been deadly, Regina realized. With jaw set with determination, she side-stepped down after the swordsman, keeping a healthy distance between the two of them.
The heretic reached the valley floor and glided along the rocky terrain, between parallel rows upon rows of eagle pillars, towards the steps up to the shrine built into the side of the opposite cliff. Regina got more than a quarter of the way down the staircase when a voice suddenly rang out in the harsh air.
“…That’s far enough, heretic!”
Regina froze. From the high vantage, she saw four Alliance soldiers appear from behind pillars on either side of the cloaked animal, weapons at the ready.
“Your horses were hidden in plain sight,” the heretic shrugged, and then brushed back one side of his cloak to reveal his paw on Nimbus’s hilt. “I could smell their stench on you all the way from the upper road. So sorry you went to all that effort to ambush me, and here I am, ready anyhow.”
One of the soldiers closer to the shrine’s staircase caught notice of Regina and aimed his crossbow at her. “He’s got an accomplice!”
“Don’t shoot me!” Regina screeched and immediately squatted where she stood on the steps, with paws over her head.
As the heretic swung around to face her, the harsh wind caught hold of his hood and threw it backwards to reveal the surprised look of a grit-toothed and youthful-faced charcoal-furred fox, whose grey eyes both radiated, and pierced Regina.
The skunk briefly noticed a glint against the fox’s throat – a dark-glassed vial.
“What are you–?!” the fox choked.
“Hold it right there!!” a soldier in a navy blue cape, bearing a spear, commanded from the heretic’s right-hand side. “By law of Prime Minister Lablanche, you are both under arrest for conspiring against the government of Doblah!”
“What?!” Regina cried. “No, I—”
“Leave her out of this,” the heretic snarled at the general. “She’s just a wandering peasant from one of the sister cities.”
“We are to trust the word of a blasphemer?” demanded the general. “Lay Nimbus before you and step away!!”
The two archers by shrine staircase drew forward with their crossbows aimed at the heretic.
“You up there!” the general snapped at Regina. “Get down here where I can see you in plain sight!”
“You’re making a grave mistake,” the heretic growled as soon as he brandished Nimbus. “…Either way, I’m going inside that Temple. Whether you’ll stand alive or not after I do so is entirely your decision – but leave the girl out of this. Our war isn’t hers!”
“This is your last warning, heretic!!” the Alliance general barked.
“So be it,” the heretic rumbled, and then spun Nimbus once in his left paw.
The archers fired their crossbows at the mysterious black-furred fox, but with swift, impossible movements, he chopped one arrow in half and deflected the other with the bulbous head of his walking staff.
“It’s meaningless to waste your arrows on me,” the heretic breathed. “Surrender your arms if you so value your lives. Dying in Lablanche’s name is a waste.”
“He wouldn’t dare…” scoffed the Alliance swordsman on the fox’s left.
“You didn’t see what that sword did to Artois and the others, Farnam,” the general warned.
The fox made a sudden dash for Farnam and the two of them clashed swords. Regina remained rigid with fright as she watched the skirmish below. The heretic forced the soldier hard back against one of the pillars single-pawedly, and as the general came at him with spear at the ready, the fox swung around and walloped him between the shoulder and neck with the head of his staff.
“Stop him!” the Alliance general croaked as he stumbled backwards, slouched forward with a gauntleted paw over his injury. The archers navigated around some pillars with fresh arrows ready. Farnam forced all of his weight against the heretic and leaned into his sword, fending off his attacker.
“Good,” the heretic rumbled. He tossed the walking staff aside and spun Nimbus once again, before wielding it in both paws.
“Somebody get that girl before she escapes!” the general snarled before he stretched out his neck a
Regina’s eyes went wide as the nearest archer turned and aimed a loaded crossbow in the skunk’s direction.
“No!” the heretic bellowed. He swung a heavy elbow into Farnam’s horned visor and when the soldier stumbled back in pain, the fox snatched a hunting knife conveniently strapped to his opponent’s hip and flung it blade-first through the air, where it sank hilt-deep into the offending archer’s chest plate – sending her flopping back against a pillar and her arrow shooting skyward.
Regina felt her stomach burn with sickness. She needed to get out of danger before she ended up arrested … or worse.
She let out a gasp and watched in horror as the heretic grabbed the soldier named Farnam by the back of the neck and sank Nimbus’s blade straight through his torso, and then let the poor raccoon crumple to the ground.
“Are you all right, Mullin?” the other archer demanded as he ran to his comrade’s aid.
The seemingly mortally-wounded archer wrapped her metal-clad digits around the hilt of the hunting knife and drew it out of her chest plate with a low creak from the bent-in metal. She tossed the hunting knife away and offered a short nod to her companion.
Regina knew enough that a hit to the lungs like that with a knife or arrow – even with armour and chainmail on – was fatal.
Shocked into surprise by the impossible sight, the skunk flicked her attention back to Farnam, who lay motionless by a pillar as the heretic danced blades against the general’s own hunting knife. Frantic thoughts raced through Regina’s mind as her confused and paralyzed body forced her to be a spectator of the gory skirmish.
How was the one soldier still alive after a blow like that? …And yet, why wasn’t the other?
A gruff yelp from below snapped Regina back to reality. She saw the heretical fox fall to one knee as he caught an arrow in the left shoulder.
“Good job, Mullin! Cover me!” the general urged, and as the archers readied themselves, he rushed in for the finishing blow.
“No!” Against better logic, Regina raced down the steps, snatched up the heretic’s walking staff, and cracked the Alliance grunt between the legs, sending him to the ground with a sharp yelp.
“You fool! Now you truly are a traitor to Doblah!” cried the heretic. With a growl, he then withdrew the arrow out of his shoulder with grossly smooth motion.
“I – what…?” Regina blinked, distracted by the heretic’s disregard for what should have been a severe injury.
“Get out of here while still you can!” the fox barked at her.
“But what about—”
“This isn’t your fight!!”
The heretic then swung around and threw an outward arm at the female archer, who was busy in the distance readying another arrow. A burst of yellow light formed in his paw and flung the archer back-first against a pillar before she could fire.
Regina let out another shrill cry when the second archer flew down at them from the air somehow, with his own hunting knife held pointed out.
The heretic flung himself skyward with Nimbus in mid-slash at his attacker.
Regina threw her arms over her face and looked away before she saw the outcome. There was a sudden yelp of agony, and then a few seconds later, she felt the impact of somebody landing a few feet away. When she opened her eyes, Regina saw the charcoal-furred fox with his back to her, shoulders heaving with exhaustion and sword at the ready.
His opponent’s corpse lay in the dirt, a half-foot beyond.
“Shall we dance a little longer?” the heretic asked the other archer over the sounds of her general’s agonized gasps. “…or will you step aside at last?”
With the joints of her armour clicking audibly as her body trembled, the remaining archer slowly leveled her loaded crossbow with the heretic’s chest.
“D – do it!” rasped the general as he crawled over to a pillar with one arm between his thighs. “Do it! L – let him pass!!”
The archer gulped hard, but soon lowered her arms.
“Much obliged,” the heretic nodded to her, and headed over to the long set of stone stairs that led up to the shrine built into the side of the cliff. The fox then said to the Alliance soldiers, “Go. Bring your horses to collect your dead, and get out of here with what remains of your brainwashed existence. Tell Prime Minister Lablanche I will see him soon.”
“P – perfectly clear, sir!” the archer saluted. She then let her crossbow clatter to the ground, skittered across the valley, scooped up her general under the arms, and escorted him up the opposite side of the valley.
“And you,” the fox said with his head turned a bit to regard Regina, “Go back to your home. Go now, before the Alliance catalogues your face and makes you top priority under me. I don’t know what drove you to follow me, but it was not at all wise.”
The heretic then turned back to face the steps, and ascended. Amidst the whisper of the wind, his footpaws clacked against the steep, stone, staircase.
Regina watched in silence. She rose to her feet slowly and considered heading back to her home like her gut instinct screamed at her to do this whole time.
The fox was right: this wasn’t her fight – whatever fight it was that was going on between him and the Alliance.
But, there was something deeper that nagged at her. That voice she had heard before. Despite the carnage and danger she had put herself through, and didn’t wish to be a part of in the first place, she couldn’t go home to Sharktapus Beach without knowing who that voice was, and what it wanted from her.
“Who … who are you?” Regina then asked.
The heretic stopped at the mid-point of the stone staircase.
Regina put a fist against her chest for reassurance. She didn’t know if the fox had heard her soft voice through the howl of the harsh wind around them, or if he had decided to take a rest.
After what felt like a long time to Regina, he finally answered.
“You don’t realize the gravity of your question.”
Regina’s face flushed, and soon, a boiling rage filled her. “Answer me! You can get a sword anywhere in Vida – why did you steal that one, and why are those soldiers so afraid of you?! My mate is an airship engineer for Prime Minister Lablanche, so if something’s going wrong in my government, I have a right to know!!”
“Your boyfriend works for the Alliance?” the heretic asked with his back still turned. “…Maybe you’ll be useful after all,” he mused, and then turned to meet the skunk’s eyes from where he stood, high up on the stairs.
Regina went rigid as the heat in her face drained with alarm.
“W – what do you mean?” she quivered as the heretical fox came back down the stairs. She let out a squeak of fright when he drew the bloodied Nimbus from the sheath at his side as soon as he touched the valley. He walked towards her, the loose ends of his hooded cloak caught in the wind.
Regina noticed a gleam off of the glass vial around the fox’s neck that hung just below the collar line of his tattered, purple tunic.
“What’s his name?” the fox asked when he stopped before Regina.
She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
“The engineer. Your boyfriend. What’s his name?” the heretic pressed.
Regina’s eyes fell to the bloodied point of Nimbus, which touched the rocky valley floor. She shuddered. “Dwain … Dwain Spikeclaw…”
“Spikeclaw,” the fox repeated with a furrowed brow. His face lowered in deep thought, and after a few seconds, he shook his head. “I don’t know him.”
“Are you going to kill me because he works for the Alliance?” Regina asked. “I … I don’t know why they’re after you, I swear I don’t know anything about it, and I—”
“Shut up,” the fox snarled.
Regina recoiled.
“After I’m done here, you’re going to take me to see Spikeclaw,” the heretic went on. “An airship would make things a lot easier.”
“He’s leaving for Garia tonight – by the time we get back to Altas, it’ll be far too late,” Regina said in desperation. Though, the afterthought did occur that she could alert the Alliance outpost in Altas about the heretic’s whereabouts.
“Then we’ll go to Garia,” the fox replied. Without warning he then pointed Nimbus’s tip at Regina’s mid-section.
The skunk froze with terror.
“Give me your waist band,” the heretic ordered.
“M – my…?” Regina looked down at the wide strip of rose-coloured fabric wrapped around the waist of her frock.
“Give it to me,” the fox said again.
Regina nodded, swallowing hard. She undid the bow from behind, which let the skirt of her dress puff out a bit at her hips. With a light tremble, she held the belt to the wanted criminal.
The fox took it from her and used the fabric to wipe the layers of blood off of Nimbus’s blade. When done, he re-sheathed the sword, then scrunched the soiled waist band up into a ball and stuffed it into a small hip pack inside his cloak.
Regina threw an anxious glance up the stone staircase behind her, half-hoping to see the Alliance soldiers from before on their way back with reinforcements, if not to claim their two fallen comrades like the heretic asked them to.
“Come along, skunk,” the heretic’s voice recaptured Regina’s attention.
She looked at him and shivered. Before her stood a fox who had slain four Alliance soldiers and scared off an additional five. Regina eyed the numerous arrows strewn around the ground at their footpaws. The fox had drawn one of them from his body, as if it were nothing.
He tugged the hood of his cloak back overhead, and then motioned to the opposite set of stairs leading up to the shrine behind him. “We can’t waste much more time if Garia’s our destination.”
Regina nor the heretic knew that they were being watched from at a distance. Hiding in some bushes that overlooked the valley where the battle had taken place, called the Stone Zephyr, an orange tabby cat lowered the composite bow she had set aimed at the vial dangling around the heretical fox’s neck.
“Garia?” the feline murmured – and then asked herself, “What does the heretic want in Garia?”
The feline pushed some leaves out of her way and watched the two Alliance troops that retreated across the wind-blown forest past. The grunt officer general was saying something to the archer named Mullin – but the orange-furred feline couldn’t make out the conversation between the two over the hiss of rustling tree leaves around her.
“...Officer General Longclaw – please come in,” a voice crackled from the handset on the feline’s hip.
The orange tabby grimaced and slunk back into the safety of the underbrush. She placed her composite bow and arrow across her lap and reached for the radio.
“They’re heading into the Temple now,” she said. “I have some new information, and am going to head back to Doblah immediately.”
“General Longclaw, you have been ordered to remain where you are, and dispatch the heretic,” the voice on the other end of the radio said.
“Let Aruto take care of him for now,” the orange tabby hissed into the handset. “The heretic’s got an accomplice!”
3. The Crystal of Wind