NEVEN

The senior Storm Wardens brought back someone who flattened all his previous expectations of what to expect out of the Warden-Commander. Grey swirls painted along their sharp horns at the top of their head and accentuated the power they brought with their entrance into the dome. Silver jewelry hung off the tips. Anaysa and the other Storm Wardens brought their hands to their fists to lean forward into a bow. He curled his fingers together to listen to the long stretch of words about to slip out of their voice and web it into incomprehension.

"I am Warden-Commander Faehariel," she said, and he gave Anaysa a side-eye. "I welcome you to Euros, where our Order has settled itself since antiquity — given to us by the Dragon King of Haneka in the time of the Great Crimson Dusk." Her smile softened. "You were all brought here because you showed potential within your hearts and souls — with a spirit to protect the world. Whatever your backgrounds, understand that the protection of the world is our sole goal. You have left homes, families, and entire lives behind for this conviction, and we shall endeavor to be worthy of your determination. You are now of one Order — where no borders exist and no governing authority can decree the aim of the Storm Wardens." Warden-Commander Faehariel stood in the middle of all the round tables. "Your time here is much more than learning how to fight Derelicts — it is a build-up of following the Warden's ideals — to be the shields in the dark and the blades of light. Tomorrow, your training will begin in earnest with the first, crucial step. You will be sorted into Units. You will train with each other, go through exercises with each other."

It went quiet between the other prospects, but Neven listened to the familiar spiel all the same.

"I warn you, this is not an easy path you've chosen," Warden-Commander Faehariel echoed Anaysa's sentiment. "I will only ask this question one other time near the end of your training. Is this what you want? Can you commit yourself wholly to our cause — to forgo any loyalties you had in service to this world?"

Some squirmed in their seats with hesitant nods, others nodded vigorously and with a touch of hungry purpose. Neven found himself frozen in the clutch of the blizzard, and questioned the strength of his own heart when Commander Faehariel turned to him with a curious tilt to her head. "Child of the tundra," she said in clear, singing Navee. "What of you, who have taken flight from your mountains like your ancestors had done so long ago?"

He jolted at her fluency in his mother tongue. "Yes."

"Good," she said in Common. "Tomorrow, you will be introduced to your Trainers — they will be your teachers and guiding hand for your time here on Euros. Listen to them well, for their experience is precious, and it is hard to say when the crimson night will take us into obscurity." One bow to the senior Storm Wardens, Warden-Commander Faehariel took the sheer power with her out of the room. Dumb-founded, Neven shook his head in confusion.

"Let's go," Anaysa said and the prospects stood up. "We're taking you to the southern wing of the citadel, where all the Trainees stay. You are free to acquaint yourself with the citadel afterwards. Tomorrow is a new day, and we have a lot to cover over the Turns of your training."

Neven hung back when the prospects filed out, shepherded by the older Storm Wardens who came before them. He caught the eye of Kemal, who rolled his shoulders and set on his course without a hint of fear. Hesitation cracked his knees together, but he pushed himself through the drift of his uncertainty. He clenched his fists when they left the bowels of the citadel to the ground levels. Tall, curved windows spread sunlight over the dark tile of the floor. Hallways rounded out, and he tried to draw out the path in his own head. Anaysa took the lead from the prospects.

"When you're out of training, you'll be moved up into the higher levels until you get your first posting," she explained. "But Euros will always be your home."

Home...

His feathers weighed down his ears when Anaysa took the girls down the corridor. Neven pulled his attention to the other Warden when he opened a large pair of oak doors with a wave of his hand.

Neven choked.

It was the same design of the squire barracks — with a hint of antiquity.

Beds dug into small divots, and small steps led into beds inside sections of the walls. In the center, a small fountain dripped with cleaning runes, and it cooled the air.

Neven stumbled when a couple of the prospects pushed him to the side to explore their new lodgings and to get the best bedspots. A plague of unease drove a knife into his stomach when he chose the floor bed closest to the entrance. He curled on the springy foam to dig his head into the pillow. Common spread around him, too many voices with too many subtle meanings. Home remained to him as time passed, tangible in the sight of the sun crawling across the horizon of their mosaic skylight. He tugged at his feathers, glancing at the fountain as some of the prospects retreated from the barracks to explore, but his unseen wings failed him, and he remained in bed.

Home.

Hofva.

He wanted the familiar comfort within the barracks of clear Naveeran styled architecture, but it drained out of his heart like the water spitting out of the wyvern's mouth on top of the fountain's peak.

Hofva...

Night brought speckled stardust to paint the abyss. Everyone slept so soundly, but Mother and Father danced in his thoughts. He drove his teeth into the blanket he tried to wrap himself in at the sound of a baby's giggle. One unrecognizable sound to choke the things he knew for certain. Is it me?

Unable to settle his irritation, he lunged out of bed. Silence became his new companion when he sidled out the door and left the others behind, all over again. I don't regret this, I don't... I've seen the heavens. I have seen the world my ancestors flew... but the longing dug into his heart and stole his song from his tongue. Neven crept along the citadel, through the curtains of moonlight separated by pillars. Air brought the ocean's promise of a new dawn — a new, confusing life. He released a shaky breath when he stopped in front of a window to take in the legendary night. Pain swirled in his heart as he climbed onto the windowsil to curl against the curve. Runed stone assisted in the caldera's natural, craggy formations. Outside, familiar murals stretched along a low, white marble wall. His curiosity swallowed his pain, and he headed for the nearest door to the outside to investigate.

Whispers of the stars entered his ears when he drew closer to the strange place.

Murals carved in the stone. Scriptures of different languages danced in a harmonic, written chord.

He followed the route, brushing his fingers down the Navee letters embedded deep in the stone. I have flown... he read the stretch of the wall, creating a single piece. To the ends of the world, through space and time — to understand; to know of those who live so differently... He continued along the route. For our hopes, our dreams. He followed the small cobbled path carving roads of desire through the beds of endless snowroses, blooming with the stars. We feel the song. We hear it in our souls. He came to a stop at the end of the mural, where an ancient Navee rune danced with all the other unrecognizable scriptures.

Sing.

He found himself underneath a tree with swinging pink leaves. It rustled the song of the wind. He swallowed on pain and headed for the middle of the garden, where an obsidian stone stood tall. Names etched on the surface, rippling with unknown power when he traced each one, never lost to time. He stifled a whimper and knelt in the flowerbeds, brushing his thumb over a soft, white petal before drawing his hand back to rub the frosty pollen.

Our own flora struggle to survive...

Neven breathed out the carved song on his tongue, before falling to land on his back, arms stretched out. Grass tickled his skin, glowing in the moonlight. It tightened a tearing, dissonant sob in his throat, and he rested his arm against his brow to shut himself from the light.

Every little piece...

He took his arm off his brow with his fangs dug into his lower lip. Starlight glimmered pathways to echo the journey of Evyriaz, the Traveller. No cloud blocked the truth. Two moons danced in the same sky, red and blue to mix and create beautiful colours along the endless sea of the unknown.

Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he rubbed his eyes with the back of his arm.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

Horror choked him into lunging from the grass to face the intruder.

Kemal stood there with his hands on his belt.

One moment of weakness to ruin everything — like he had on the boat, unable to grasp the differences in language, in everything. Neven wiped his face again, but more tears dropped into his palms, so he shuffled to the standing stone, hoping to hide behind the power of a name.

"Neven, was it?" Kemal asked.

"Hell...ooo," he parroted the earlier words of his messy greeting, and he shook his head when Kemal came closer. "I am here."

Kemal smiled a bit. "I'm sorry."

Clear. Concise. Neven kept his back against the names. "Hello."

I'm an idiot.

Kemal tucked his hands together with a nod at the mural. "Some of that scripture is Navei, right?" he asked, with the consistency of his questions from before. "What does it say?"

Neven pushed some of the tension down his hands, and found his song failing him. Kemal went silent for a minute, his gaze going around the mural. "Across the seas," he translated. "We traveled to the beat of the ocean, to the promised dawn." He shrugged his shoulders. "Rough translations. It's very old Hanekan."

Neven sucked in his lips. "Flown to the ends of the world... to feel, hear, and sing in the myriad of the world's songs."

"Is that what it says?"

"...rough. Old Navei..."

"Interesting. So the Storm Wardens who first came to this island carved this mural around the garden — that really dates this place." Kemal pinched his chin. "It's an echoing passage. It does sound similar, don't you think?"

"Yes." Neven kept his head lowered.

It went silent.

"I can help you."

Neven jolted at his proclamation, and Kemal shrugged. "I just... I feel kind of bad. I was always taught to approach things with an open mind by my father, but I guess... I'm a little frazzled," Kemal admitted. "It's no excuse, of course... don't mind Evani's behavior. He doesn't do well under pressure."

"Storm Wardens deal with pressure," Neven mumbled, and found a smile crawling on his face.

"Yeah, I'm sure that'll kick him in the arse later." Kemal chuckled. "I can help you with your Common... if you tell me all about Naveera."

Neven scrunched his brow. "You curious of Naveera?"

"Well... after what happened on the boat, I just want to clear things up. I was always told my habit of asking questions will get me into trouble, but I find learning things will make sense of other things," Kemal said. "You're here for the same reason all of us are here. You want to protect something, don't you?"

Neven hesitated, then nodded.

"Then that's all I need," Kemal said. "You should probably come back to bed, though. I bet they're going to wake us up bright and early in the morning..." He folded his arms and grumbled under his breath.

"Morning..." Neven tasted the note of the word to declare the time when a new day started. "Morning. Yes, is likely for training. Get up to start early — waste no time, no effort."

Kemal raised an eyebrow. "Do you have previous experience?"

Neven hesitated, then brought his finger and thumb close together without looking Kemal in the eye. "Little."

"Got it. It'll be interesting then." Kemal waved his arm to the arch out of the garden. "Let's go so we aren't caught with our pants down."

Neven jolted and hooked his fingers through his pants to keep them where they belonged. He followed Kemal out of the garden, a reflection of his home, with the song of many people from many places, all with voices and names.