Prologue: That Day
Sunlight slowly filtered into the room, embracing the slumbering hawk within its rays. Just as he seemed to snuggle into the warmth, a small breeze drifted in from the balcony and gently caressed his face, enough to awaken him. The hawk's eyes fluttered sleepily and in the next moment he sat up in shock.
...Then he remembered.
He had been in a tedious testing block on laguz history—dragon history, to be exact—when he was pulled out by the council. A bit relieved to have gotten out of it, his mind was soon changed as he discovered the reason why.
King Phoenicis had quietly passed away just an hour ago. Now the hawk, as a very likely candidate for the next king's privileged and personal attendant, would have to prove himself with more difficulty because of his age. Rumors had it another hawk was striving for the same position. At any rate, he and the other hawk had apparently been allowed to stay at Phoenicis Hall ever since then, which was about a week, and they had gotten to meet each other.
The unfortunate thing was that last night, it had been announced that there was the possibility that both hawks could share this job.
But no matter, because he knew he would do better anyway. Today was going to be a good day.
The laguz got off the bed, only to hear the frantic pounding of feet against the marble floor. Curious as to what was happening, he strode for the door, but he had only made it halfway when it flew open, missing his outstretched hand by mere inches.
The page standing before him began to stutter in embarrassment. "I'm sorry! I thought this was—I mean, I was looking for—you know, since today the choir—with perfect pitch needed for the—″
"Two doors down across the hall," the hawk stated flatly. This child could at least knock before barging in!
Anyway, that was, if the page was indeed seeking the master of perfect pitch. He himself was a bit tone deaf after all... But just a bit! Besides, why was the final ceremony for the funeral being held today when it could have been finished ages ago!? Tibarn had already been crowned king, although it had not been formal due to haste, and this was still going on.
As the page scurried off, the hawk made his way down to the kitchen and stealthily pilfered a piece of berry-flavored cake before escaping into the garden.
Nibbling away at the dessert, he pondered upon the day's probable events. He would for sure be expected to attend the final ceremony and—the hawk grimaced—be expected to give last parting words.
Well then, he would just have to go missing for today.
"You will not be going anywhere if I can help it." The hawk groaned; he must have been thinking out loud again. He stared into the fountain's waters to see the reflection of another hawk standing with a reprimanding look and his arms crossed in annoyance. ...Where did he come from? After deciding that it was impossible to ignore his rival, the hawk responded.
"Is that so? ...What is it you were going to do?" He lazily dragged his hand through the water, creating gentle ripples that distorted the mirror. "We're in no position to order each other around, anyway. Just come with me, and we'll have fun, I promise."
"Not as much fun after I tell you that we are no longer equal as rivals, but have been of equal royal status for three hours," the other laguz shot back. The fingertips breaking the surface of the water jerked and retracted, the hawk's head snapping up sharply.
"You lie! Two could never share the position!"
"I'm afraid not," the other said, clearly just as displeased. "Bear in mind that this is the first time the king will have attendants this personal. Now, as you know, we must begin to address each other as equals, Janaff."
He was about to take his exit when Janaff suddenly asked, "How came you to know this? For all I was aware of, we were as even as could be...Ulki..."
"They got lazy," was the stiff answer he received, dripping with sarcasm. "Besides, that is what happens when you decide to sleep in and not do your duty."
Janaff's eye twitched. Need there be further proof that he and Ulki being put together was nothing more than a joke to exercise his limits? It was no wonder the council didn't want to choose between them.
Ulki turned to leave once more, and he could not help but mention, "If you are going to be the king's 'eyes,' you could at least tie your hair back. Ashera knows how much trouble it will cause later on."
But Janaff was ready this time. "Yeah? You're the one who's supposed to be helping the choir!" His arrogance faded as Ulki donned a smirk.
"Just because I'm the king's 'ears' does not mean I can hear perfect pitch. To a certain extent, maybe, but not so well that I can quickly distinguish between sharp and flat. You have yet to meet and know your upper-classmen, Janaff. It was Reyson they were looking for." His comment had the desired effect as the younger hawk fought hard against his blush while glaring daggers.
Before he could make a comeback, the older hawk was already gone. Janaff angrily smacked the fountain's waters in frustration, quite an amount of it splashing and eliciting an indignant yet lyrical squawk from another visitor. At once the hawk inwardly cringed; there was only one laguz at the moment that the voice could have belonged to.
Janaff meekly came face to face with one of the most glorious beings of his days, which in this case was none other than the renowned White Prince Reyson. Except...the heron certainly wasn't looking at him. He was too busy leaning sideways and wringing some of his hair out.
Janaff was rolling his eyes when, without warning, Reyson swept his long hair upwards and back in a graceful arc, smartly slapping the hawk in the face with it.
Sputtering, he tried to regain his dignity as Reyson took it upon himself to point and start laughing. "Hey! That's not funny!" His fuming only made Reyson burst into a fresh set of giggles. "Quit laughing!"
With a scowl, Janaff nearly considered splashing the Prince again, but before he could, the heron had ceased and was now giving an apologetic smile.
The hawk hesitated, but he eventually nodded in acceptance. The royal heron line was now under Tibarn's protection, and so it would be almost a requirement to get along with Reyson, wouldn't it? His most likely permanent shift in social status had caused a dramatic effect on many things, and for the first time since his summoning, he wondered about what was going on back home. Did his friends miss him? How was his family faring? No one had had any chances to say goodbye.
Reyson must have sensed Janaff's loss of focus, for he cooed softly.
The heron watched Janaff as he snapped back into reality and bowed instantly, as logical manners dictated.
"Well met, White Prince," Janaff greeted in an attempt to fix his poor first impression. "I apologize for my rude behavior towards you earlier. You may call me Janaff, and I will be of service if you wish it so." In response, Reyson cocked his head in what seemed to be confusion, though he seemed to acknowledge the bow.
Realizing that Reyson probably hadn't understood a word he said, Janaff sighed inwardly. He had forgotten the Prince had yet to learn the common speech.
But still, the hawk whistled a few words hopefully in the hawk language. No such luck.
Reyson began to speak in his native tongue, trying to respond, but Janaff could hardly understand anything either. This was going to get them nowhere. After a second's thought, he knew what he wanted to do. Without a word he grabbed Reyson's hand and dragged him along back down the hallways. However, the two were nearly beyond the main gates when a small blur of silver and blue dashed around the corner and collided head-on with Janaff, knocking him back into Reyson.
The figure hurriedly picked himself up and sped away without so much as a brief apology. But Janaff had already identified him. "Keer!" he yelled angrily. That little brat was going to pay; this was the second time that week.
But no one else saw it fit to punish Keer, because they pitied him. A hawk child of just eighteen years, he lived only with his mother who was a mere housemaid in the Hall, for his father was one of the last laguz to be taken as a slave for those... Humans.
Then again, other servants had been whispering to each other that recent events like this weren't normal behavior for the child. That in particular meant Keer didn't have the right to run about causing havoc. At least, Janaff was not ready to show sympathy for this youngling quite yet.
Leaving Reyson staring in bewilderment, he shot as swift as an arrow in Keer's direction, catching him almost immediately with one hand over his mouth and the other around his waist.
"Let me go!" was the automatic, muffled response accompanied by frenzied flailing.
"No. You've been very naughty," Janaff chided. That was when Keer nipped his hand as hard as he could, the sting just as sharp as if it had been his beak. A small hiss escaped the older hawk's lips as he cradled his now slightly bleeding hand, allowing Keer to make a successful run for it, his silver ponytail darting this way and that.
Janaff cursed under his breath and wondered what could have possessed a once stoic child like Keer to suddenly become wild and untamed.
He would have to leave those thoughts alone for now, however, because at that moment Strahl appeared.
Strahl, the head of their hawk council, had a rather agitated look plastered on his face, and Janaff's eyes widened. Splendid, he was in for it now. The hawk steeled himself for the verbal lashing about his absence, but it never came.
"Quickly, now! Phoenicis is in dire need of your help!" ...Wait, that wasn't right.
Strahl ushered the other two with no small amount of heckling, and if not for the urgency in his voice and the odd comment, Janaff would have lagged all he wanted on his part. However, as he left Reyson and headed for the courtroom, many servants shrank back into the shadows and looked at him with large eyes that seemed to plead with what, he didn't know. The hawk was perplexed at how he could have missed what was going on and only then did he seek to quicken his pace.
When they arrived, Janaff was told to take a seat and pay close attention. Without a doubt, Ulki was present as well. Janaff studied him, but he didn't appear to have any clue either.
"The information we are about to yield to you may come as a bit of a surprise," Strahl began, "so please, prepare yourselves." The elder hawk also took a deep breath, before stating himself very simply.
"Janaff, Ulki... You two have acquired complete and official rule of Phoenicis for the time being..."
A hush fell over the room in a quarter of a second. Several minutes' worth of silence accompanied it until Janaff suddenly blurted out impulsively, obviously not having grasped the full concept. "Tibarn is already dead!? But we—we can't be in total control—that's just..." He trailed off, quieted by the disapproving stares he was receiving, but he noted that Ulki was having just as much of a quandary as he was.
At length, another elder finally replied wearily, "Make no mistake, young one. Lord Tibarn is still very much alive." Without having to glance, Janaff saw Ulki raise a quizzical eyebrow, though it swiftly went back down.
Ulki then voiced the exact question Janaff had wondered himself. "But if so, why are we acting as regents when it is clear that he draws breath?"
"And more so, why us?" the younger hawk piped in.
"We are in as much shock as anyone would be," the novices were reminded. "Listen well, now, for the council is obligated to tell you everything. Lord Tibarn has apparently left on a journey for reasons unknown to any of us. He wrote a note saying he would return soon, but regarding the amount of provisions that has disappeared...
"...As well as this." Strahl gravely displayed in his hand the sacred emblem of Phoenicis.
While Janaff's face grew blank at the gravity of the situation, Ulki further added insult to injury with a stark realization. "That emblem is supposed to be in the king's possession at all times. It signifies who he is, of course," he said. "He is now gone but not dead, and according to the new rules Phoenicis has recently established about rank, Janaff and I would be next in line. We are of higher status than the royal council itself."
Color drained from many of the hawks' faces, for they knew this was only the beginning of the troublesome things to come. What could be worse than having a missing king right after the death of the previous one?
A couple of inexperienced younglings who didn't get along that well and were required to run their country, that's what. It all began that very day.