A/N: This is my take on how the creation of Stormwings came about.
Disclaimer: I am not Tamora Pierce and do not own the setting, but the characters and storyline are all mine.
Almost there. So close.
Step.
One step for Ares, killed defending Corus.
Step.
One step for Tusti, stolen and sold as a child slave.
Step.
One step for Glassfire, her equine companion taken by the harsh desert in the form of starvation.
Step. Finally. Water.
The lone cactus stood in the middle of the Barzun desert, the only sign of life for miles. How far had she come? How far had she left to go? These were the questions running through Ariana Ingasri's mind.
Pulling her knife from her pack, she carefully sliced the thick flesh of the plant. Using the reed straw she also carried, she savored the bitter juice that flowed from the reserves of the cactus. After she had had her fill, she scanned her surroundings. Not far from where she stood was a large boulder which would provide shade from the scorching rays of the afternoon sun. As she started the journey to her refuge, her thoughts drifted to what had brought her here.
Her tribe was making its annual migration to the southern port, bound for Carthak and the rich trading revenue it brought. Passing through Port Caynn they had been stopped, searched, and stripped of all goods. The only explanation the soldiers could give was that they were to help with the effort of the war as their duty to the Crown. Being from Scanra they owed nothing to the rulers of Tortall, and some of the tribe elders made the mistake of mentioning this. Enraged by the disloyalty the military imprisoned Ariana's people. As punishment men were forced to join the army. Ares was taken from her. Two months later they received word that he had been killed by the invading Tyrans, leaving Ariana a widow and single mother to care for their young daughter, Tusti.
Upon reaching the boulder Ariana pulled her blanket from her pack, preparing for the bitter cold night. Settling down, she nibbled on what little was left of the remaining bread and dried meat. So alone. So scared. Not a day passed when she didn't wish that they had stayed in Scanra.
The war won, all prisoners were released. Unsure of where to go, Ariana and Tusti continued with the caravan, destined for Carthak. The Tyrans and their allies from Maren were still in the process of retreat and their troops could be seen camping along the road. Out of sight of the soldier's camp, Ariana, Tusti, and the rest of the tribe settled down for the long night ahead.
Spreading her blanket on the moss that thrived there, Ariana closed her eyes and prayed to Mithros and the Great Mother Goddess that she would awake the next morning to find that it had all been a dream. She asked the same the same favor every night and it had yet to be granted. She supposed she should be grateful she awoke at all.
Sometime in the night the snap of a broken twig awakened Ariana. Fully alert, she listened hard for any sign of danger. All that could be heard was the drunken shouts of the men at the camp. Reassured that all was well, she reached over to pat Tusti on the back. But her hand met only cold ground. Tusti, as well as the quilt that Ariana herself had made, were gone. Now frantic, she scanned the area and saw two figures slipping away into the night. In one's arms lay Tusti, most likely quieted with Dreamrose. She ran after them, tripping over her skirts and voicing the anguished cries of a mother who has lost what is most dear to her.
A/N: Please review so I know it's worth continuing!