44th of Glade, 115th Year of the Age of Steel
Talon stumbled forward yelping in pain as one of his wings was whacked by the wooden practice sword held by his mentor. He fell forward landing in the dirt with a cough and a groan.
“Your wings are the largest part of your body open to attack. Protect them but also use them.” Talon sighed pushing himself up onto his feet. He turned to face his teacher. Aoren stood just a few inches taller than him and was certainly broader and heavier of build. Still, there was a fluid athleticism to his movements as he circled around and away from Talon taking up another stance in preparation to resume their lesson.
“Use them how?” Talon watched as Aoren quirked an eyebrow. With impressive speed for a man his size, he leaped into the air and extended his raven wings. The height he was able to ascend to with just a single bound was surprising. He didn’t even flap his wings to go higher before tucking them in and diving back down toward Talon. Mid-air he spun, wrapping his wings around his body before shifting his position so that he landed on his feet. Before Talon could muster the wherewithal to defend himself, one of those wings was extending and hitting Talon squarely in the chest. He felt the strength in that wing and it knocked the air from his lungs. Once more, Talon found himself in the dirt. This time, squarely on his ass.
He was picking himself up when Aoren’s shadow covered his form. The Kathar extended a hand to him which Talon accepted. He was hoisted to his feet.
“Our wings are not just ornaments, Talon. We can fly with them, yes. They are also a source of the gift that was given to us, that which makes us Avialae. They are strong. Have confidence in that strength and use it wisely.” Aoren ruffled Talon’s hair prompting the young Novalys to swat away his hand.
“I just hadn’t considered that before.” Aoren chuckled.
“That’s because you’ve had a human teaching you how to fight, Talon. You are not a human. So do not think like one.” Talon readied himself to take up another stance but Aoren shook his head. He set aside his training sword then beckoned Talon over.
“What are we doing?” Aoren smirked.
“Teaching you to fly.” Talon furrowed his brow.
“I already know how to fly.” That prompted the Kathar to throw his head back and laugh. Talon bristled as Aoren laughed at his expense. He felt his wings fluff and rustle slightly before settling down.
“What!?” When he had collected himself from his bout of laughter, Aoren wiped away an imaginary tear from one of his eyes.
“I have seen you fly, Talon. You fly as though you are beating the air into submission. That is no way to fly. Avialae are not skyships that need to compel the winds into motion for us. We are windgifted.” He shook his head. Talon folded his arms over his chest and grumbled to himself.
“I know that. I’ve just…” He shrugged his shoulders before looking out over the mountain range. It had taken them two days to get to the mesa where Aoren wanted to train. It wasn’t terribly far for an Avialae to fly but when one wasn’t accustomed to such distances, it was tiresome. “...I don’t get much time to fly what with all my studies.”
Aoren clasped his shoulder. Talon felt fingers on his chin as he was prompted to look his mentor and friend in the eyes.
“I know. But you if you intend to be the best warrior you want to be as an Avialae, you need to realize that flying is part of you. It should be in many things you do. Your wings are a gift, one many debate and turn into the subject of burdens. Don’t believe them.” Aoren pat his cheek then stepped back. He bent at the knees slightly, extended his raven wings and then jumped into the air. With little more than a few beats of his wings he was hovering effortlessly in the air. He motioned for Talon to join him. The young Novalys hesitated then squared his shoulders and extended his wings. His ascent was...far less graceful. He wobbled slightly and felt as though he was working much harder to stay adrift than Aoren was. The Kathar was only moving his in light drifting motions as though he was floating in water, not trying to stay airborne. There was a very amused smirk on his face. Talon glared at him.
“Don’t laugh.” The twitch at the corners of Aoren’s mouth did not help, nor did the slight hitch in his voice.
“Never.” He coughed then cleared his throat. Talon made his way toward his friend and teacher. He would have folded his arms and adopted the restful posture as Aoren did but he was afraid he might plummet.
“So, what now?” Aoren quirked a brow.
“Do you know how the Avialae fly?” Talon sighed. It was going to be one of those lessons where Aoren asked a bunch of rhetorical questions and Talon was proven how little he actually knew. He reached up running a hand through his hair. Aoren had that amused smirk back on his face.
“By following the currents of the wind and guiding our movements--” Even before he finished, Aoren was shaking his head. That had Talon frowning. He dropped his hands and shrugged his shoulders. “Okay then, how do we fly?”
“It was a gift from Von Rabe.” Talon stilled. His chest tightened and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that his face reflected his response. Aoren’s face was studiously blank.
“Von Rabe is--” Aoren interrupted him.
“Our creator. Whether we like that fact or not. It is a truth that not even the Lady of the Grove could undo.” Talon felt himself stiffen. Logically, every Synnekar knew that their origins rest in the claws of that vulture. It was a story that was told from their earliest days. In their hearts though, Talon supposed that the Synnekar believed they could distance themselves from the power of their maker. To be confronted with it so bluntly was uncomfortable and made Talon want to rear his head in denial. Von Rabe was supposed to be the antithesis of everything the Synnekar stood for.
“Alright. What does Von Rabe have to do with this?” Even saying his name had the hair on the back of Talon’s neck standing on end. He pushed down the urge to look nervously over his shoulder for any Kindred or worse, the vulture himself. In Aoren’s eyes, he could see that his posture did not go unnoticed by his Kathar teacher.
“Our bones are not hollow like birds. Our bodies are stronger than a human’s will ever be. In us is a touch of the cold winter winds that the Pale King has dominion over. That is why we are unaffected by cold climates. Avialae can move in harmony with the winds. It is a truth and a fact that the Kathar explore quite extensively as we are brought up. You have it within you to move in harmony with the winds as well.” As if to demonstrate this point, Aoren gave a flap of his wings and gracefully soared through the air with all the skill of an aerial acrobat. He circled Talon then came to hover once more in his original place in front of Talon.
“I’m not an Elementalist. The winds don’t just move as I want them to.” Aoren was nodding, folding his arms over his chest. Talon was beginning to feel a little tired from keeping himself afloat. He’d never spent much time airborne. He enjoyed flying but moving around Kalzasi the most he ever had the opportunity to do was glide and follow the flight paths known around the city.
“You are correct. Nor will the winds simply bow to your will. Windstepping is not a power. We have no control over the winds because of it. We do have it within our power to feel them and balance with them in a way others cannot however. The gift allows us to open our senses to the winds differently and thus find a harmony with them.” Talon shifted his position so that he could maintain his balance in the air. He was beginning to feel the exertion in his wings.
“And how do I do that?” Aoren rolled his eyes and glided closer to Talon. He reached out touching the tips of the fingers of one hand to Talon’s forehead and the flat of his palm of the other to Talon’s chest.
“Stop using this,” He tapped Talon’s forehead. “And start using this.” He gently pushed against Talon’s chest.
“Windstepping is something you feel. Listen to the winds. Follow the path they guide you toward.” With that Aoren glided back leaving Talon to sigh.
“And how long do we have to stay airborne?” Aoren laughed.
“Until you can do so without straining yourself so much. Don’t worry, I’ll catch you Young Novalys.” Talon shook his head but did as Aoren instructed him. He dropped his arms to his sides and let out a breath, trying to ease the tension in his body. He supposed that this was an important lesson. Avialae were meant to fly. The soldiers of the Sky Guard spent years drilling and training how to incorporate aerial maneuvers into their combat training. His father was a magnificent flyer, having been an officer in the Eagle Riders most of his adult life before taking the throne. If Talon was to be anything to his people, to those who expected more of him, he would have to follow that example. So he pushed aside his fatigue and focused on himself and his position in the air.
