They first heard of the ground-breaking news on their second night's rest on their way to Hume.

They were staying at another inn, this time owned by a short, smiley ex-traveller. He had a walking stick, like Lahmum the greedy inn owner back in Kiramone, and a love for all current reports in the outside world, due to his long history of journeying. Unfortunately wear-and-tear on his joints forced him to stop long-distance trips and he resorted to running accommodations for travellers, offering discounted beverages in return for accurate news.

"So what hearsay is afoot, brother?" The owner slid two tankards of ale towards the pair of men who had just descended the wooden stairs from their rooms.

"The same that has been circling for the past few days." The first man, a broad, unshaven man with huge, muscular arms, took a huge gulp from the container. He sighed with approval, setting it down.

"Aye, that Gwent is rebuilding their army and all," agreed the second man, slumping on his seat. The owner sat across the table from the two, a serious expression on his usually-smiling face. "History is repeating itself, mark my words."

"Hopefully they are merely training their men and not readying for war."

"Nobody could fathom the strength of the Gwentian army fifteen years ago, my friend."

"Nobody could fathom that Dernexes would survive that invasion either," the first man said with a sigh. "But thank the Graces that we did."

"I wonder if the Casters will involve themselves in the war again this time, should Gwent attack."

Mommu choked on his broth. Tia dropped the piece of hard bread she had been holding and it splashed into her bowl of soup.

"What?" she hissed across the table to nobody in particular. Enlil thumped the choking trainee. Tia's gaze was fixated across the tavern where the speakers sat. Her bread bobbed in the soup and began to sink.

"If they had not, the last time, we would have been long dead," the first man said matter-of-factly, downing his ale. "From the sound of it, if we do go into war with Gwent, all the people are expecting them to join. Not at the last minute as they had in the past, but with us from the beginning."

"Perhaps Elder Down would have stood had they decided to be part of the army from the start." There was a trace of disapproval in the companion's voice.

"Who knows? It is one of those questions that will never be answered. I am just glad Dernexes stood against Gwent," the innkeeper said, resting his elbows on the table. "Any news on whether Gwentian forces intend to fight?"

"No reliable sources yet. There is a possibility that it may be indeed training and Ptarmigan Fortress is just readying itself in return.  I do not think we can risk another war breaking out though. We barely survived last time... Grace save us all."

"And news from Capital?"

The first man belched loudly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"No news at all from Capital. It is very peculiar." The second man frowned, placing his emptied tankard in front of him. "It is almost as if nobody is aware what is going on outside. My sources think it ludicrous that Gwent may be on the brink of a fight again, but my sources at Ptarmigan Fortress and Elder Down state otherwise. I am more inclined to believe the outside sources."

"And from the king?"

"Nothing."

"We are not preparing the militia?" his tone held a trace of disbelief.

The first man shook his head. "Perhaps. It is difficult to gauge. For some reason, my sources in Capital have much less intelligence for me than those in the other cities. It is the same quietude as just before the last invasion... I cannot say for certain what our king has in mind. Perhaps my sources are overreacting... I cannot tell"

"I would not put it past Gwent to finish what they started fifteen years ago," his companion said in disgust. "Those are bloodthirsty thugs who will stop at nothing until they have consumed all the land as they had with Dormis."

"I agree." With a sigh, the owner collected the empty tankards and stood up, not a trace of a smile on his sombre face. "I hope it will not take the downfall of a city to reinforce our military power. I thank you, gentleman, for filling me in. I hope the Graces keep you safe in these difficult times."

"This is dangerous information, my friend. Beware to whom you speak."

"I am grateful."

"These times will get more difficult, good sir, mark my words," grunted one, tipping his hat respectfully as the two of them left the table.

When the tavern fell quiet again, Tia turned to face her companions, aghast. Mommu's mouth was also dropped open. None of the three said anything.

Windcasters were in the last Great War? Tia thought in disbelief. But that goes against all principles of Casting! Wind was never meant to be used for human greed, much less for killing!

Her stomach plummeted as the truth hit home.

How many had Master Anu killed with the Wind?

****

"Master!" Tia shouted, barging straight into the Windcaster's room. Mommu stumbled after her, too slow to stop her. Enlil brought up the back. She couldn't shake off the disgust. There must be  a reason. There must. "Master!"

The old man, sitting scribing at the table, held up a hand as he finished off the last line. Tia panted, pink in the face, indignity chasing the whirlwind thoughts in her mind. Mommu stumbled in after her, also gasping for breath.

"Yes, my child?" Master Anu said at last, in his deep voice. He put his quill down and turned to face his apprentices.

"Is it true?" she demanded. "Is it–"

"Tia, I think we should speak about this another time," interrupted Mommu, gazing with desperate eyes at Enlil. Enlil's face remained wooden. Mommu sighed in exasperation, wringing his hands. "I apologise, Master. Tia is only a bit agitated, but we should not be bothering you when you are working–"

"Windcasters fought in the last Great War?!" Tia's voice rose shrilly. Mommu gasped.

Master Anu was silent, his pale blue eyes suddenly filled with sadness. The candle on his table flickered, throwing a stark shadow across his wrinkled face. Tia wanted to stop because he looked so hurt, but she couldn't. The thoughts just poured out of her mouth in a torrent.

"What happened to the Casters' code? That we are part of nature and must always put balance before everything else? That the Wind must not be used for human gains? That we cannot use it to the detriment of any living being? How could you–"

"There is more to it than that." The old man held up his hand again, his face pained. "Please, Tiamat, Mommu. I wish you to hear the entire truth from my mouth rather than from anyone else's." He paused, his raised hand trembling slightly. "What you say... there is truth. It is not the entire truth, but yes, Windcasters, including myself, were involved in the last Great War. Our presence ensured the survival of Dernexes, at a great price."

Tia opened her mouth again but Master Anu silenced her with a look. She hadn't seen an expression like that on his face since he first brought Mommu back as a starving street urchin.

"Please hear me before passing judgement.  As my disciples, I knew this would come to light one day and this will cast doubt upon you and your alliance to this country. I will bear you no ill will should you wish to discontinue training as a Caster. Do you really want to know this?"

Tia swallowed, sensing crushing grief and regret on the face of the man who had raised her. She nodded.

"I will not be able to tell you everything today," he continued, pale blue eyes fixated on her bright green ones, "as I feel you are too young to fully appreciate the implications. But you deserve to know what had happened. I swear by the Grace that one day, I shall tell you the whole truth."

"You swear?" she whispered.

"I do."

He gestured for the three to sit at his feet. They did so with solemn faces. The Master appeared in deep thought, before heaving a big breath.

"Twenty years ago, King Nusku II of Gwent ascended to the throne. His father, the first King Nusku, was a peaceful man. He was the first king who had ever attempted to establish peace in the long line of kings that ruled Gwent. Where his ancestors had coveted the waters of Dormis and the Wind magic of Dernexes, he was favourable of fair trades. He made a pact of alliance with both Dernexes and Dormis, trading strong Gwentian workers in return from Dernexes for Hearings so that they may sow crops at the most advantageous times and from Dormis for reapings from the water. Most of the Gwentian workers were assigned to Ptarmigan Fortress and Elder Down. For two decades, there was peace in the land.

"You may not be aware, but Gwent is a sorry piece of land: devoid of rich soil and a natural source of water, and borders with Mawlin, the Desert of Nabudice, in the north. With Dormian water and Dernexan Hearing, the country thrived.

"He was as great a man as it came, but his life as king was short and he was old. Unbeknownst to him, his son had been slowly gathering a growing mass of soldiers, all of whom had been disapproving of what they viewed as the king's pitiful way to gain resources. Most of those were brought up by fathers who served as soldiers for the king before King Nusku, a typical barbarian who lusted for power. They were used to the bloodshed and brute force and so passed on the traits to their offspring. The sons could not see any good in the harmonious relationship between the countries. They felt that they could storm the other countries and expand Gwent as well as utilising the resources for their own gain.

"From the day King Nusku II ascended to the throne, Dernexes and Dormis had been wary, readying for potential invasion."

He paused to light another candle as the first one dwindled on its last length of wick. The room was bathed in light once again.

"For the first five years, the amicable trading continued. The Dernexans were used to the peace between Gwent and Dernexes, but the advisors and the government were still concerned. King Nusku II had been very openly vocal about his disapproval of how his father ran his affairs. Five years was a long time for doing nothing.

"One night, there was an uprising. Before Capital learned of the news, Elder Down had been burned to the ground and Ptarmigan Fortress was stormed, all its occupants slain. This was before the stronghold that you know Ptarmigan Fortress to be nowadays," he added, seeing the appalled expression on their faces. "Gwent had slowly been amassing a greater and greater force under our noses. King Ea had not realised the apparently generous offer of a steadily growing number in Gwentian workers had been part of their plan to take over Dernexes from the inside."

"You witnessed this?" Enlil said, his mouth turned down. Master Anu shook his head.

"The Windcasters did not partake in any of this until near the end. We were not to engage, as per our princples.

"By sabotaging our defences and taking out our generals one by one, Elder Down and Ptarmigan Fortress did not stand a chance. King Ea sent all of our troops in, hoping to localise enemy forces down to the southwest.

"Unfortunately by that point, because the response was so late and the attack was unanticipated, we lost many of our troops. It looked very much like Dernexes was about to fall to Gwent."

"What do you mean the Gwentian attack was 'unanticipated'?" Enlil sounded sceptical. His pale eyes conveyed an expression Tia couldn't decipher, beneath his thick dark hair. "You said yourself, Master, even the government and the Casters were wary of invasion because of their history and because of what the Gwentian King had in mind long before he ascended."

"You raise a very valid point, Enlil." The answer came with a sigh. The Master's jaw tightened a little. "As a nation, we were unprepared for an attack. Certain individuals were concerned, but... either way, in the end we were unprepared and we nearly lost the whole kingdom as a result of our foolishness."

"And then the Windcasters..." Tia whispered, her eyes huge.

"The Windcasters and the majority of the remaining able-bodied people were drafted to fight. It was either to fight or succumb to Gwent, under that situation. With our alliance to the Wind, we overturned Gwentian forces and obliterated their army."

"Obliterated," Tia repeated in a stunned voice. The Master swallowed. For the first time in her life, Tia saw doubt on that kind, lined face.

"The Wind is mighty and powerful," he said in a quiet voice.

The room fell silent.