The Wind Chronicles of Gaea

Event Ten

What Does All This History…Have to Do With Me?

It felt like daytime didn't want to leave the Kingdom of Fanelia. But, finally, swirls of departing pinks waved farewell to deepening blues. Before the sun could completely set, last-minute preparations were made—inside, outside, and beyond Fanelia's walls. Small shops and eateries in the Beaux Esprits were closing up. Marketplace vendors had set off with their goods, back home to families of their own. Pathways were lit all over, as dutiful shop owners and lower-ranked sentries nicked flints together into the avenues' oil lamps. Smithies locked up, in-home businesses did the same, but nighttime places stayed open and welcomed the night owls.

Grand wings spanned from a Castle spire. Swiftly following sounded a sweet lullaby, as if to rock the city's children to sleep.

Higher-end guardsmen exchanged shifts. Hawkeyed watchmen monitored the Kingdom's Ramparts, or defensive walls. Torchlight blazed at the city-state's only guarded entrance, the southwestern Euboea Belvedere, and along its welcoming bridge. The bridge continued past the iron gates, overshooting an underground outer rim before crossing onto solid ground. Underneath was a bow of torchlight, leading to a single entrance from both sides: Emblazoned onto the wrought-iron bars was the Fanelian Kingdom's crest, that perilous dragon-serpent twisting unto itself. Bronzed metal glared out. A subtle shimmer hid under the incandescence.

Far beyond Fanelia's Ramparts, Mercrusia welcomed the foreign 1st Viceroy-Knight and his royal caravan. Taking the same precautions as Fanelia, Mercrusian envoys greeted Lancelot with an almost musical "Ave Vespa," exchanging handshakes and praising his safe arrival. Just south of the Fassa Thoroughfares, Mercrusia was a sister-city to both Asturia and Fanelia, as the "youngest" amongst the three. Each city-state worked in tandem to ensure mainland security. Most of Gaea's most well-renowned figures hailed from one of these great cities.

It was also the last city before travelers could wander out to Xeed Coast, or possibly to hamlets in scattershot encounters. Otherwise, the southernmost outcrops of Titanic Plains would leave anybody meandering.

Back at the Fanelian Castle, candle sconces burned in a cozy alcove. Translucent drapes hung over a rounded chaise longue. It was fuchsia, trimmed in taupe, and somewhat firm to the feel. Books were stacked by its little front feet. One stack looked taller than the other; piles for "Read" and "Yet-to-Read," perhaps? Partitioned from the rest of the room, 3rd Viceroy Percival snuggled against the chaise's back underneath satiny blankets. Gaean script was scribbled along all the books' spines, one translating to "Sacred Credo of the Docile Woodlands", another "Encyclopedic Fanelian Acquisitions, Selbadeiran Reign", and four smaller "Psalms of Virtue," each of "Courage," "Temperance," "Prudence," and "Justice." The one in Percival's hands was named "Monarchal Diaries: Mother Larynn Selbadeir - Mother Helene Kyrie," apparently the one she was most engrossed in. Not too far from the end, Percival paused. Her citrine irises reflected the candlelight.

"This tome reflects the blessings and hardships brought upon each Fanelian Ruler. From the first Queen ever bestowed the status, to the last recorded…there's been centuries'-worth of Monarchs. Up till the first Kyrie…?" She thought for a moment. Going by recollection, Sonic—the mysterious rapscallion-turned-Fanelian Heir with a strange memory lapse—looked a bit like said Queen. She didn't want to confirm such a likeness without consulting the Doyen and Lieutenant General first. Both the albatross and little fox were well-observed regarding Fanelia's extensive history. An extraneous look from the old historian, Nostramazakh, would also prove invaluable. 'Surely, Escaflowne can verify this, as well? The boy's Proof of Contract is valid, by both the Paridisal Signet and Sacred Broadsword.' She closed her eyes. The book in her hands sank into her lap. 'Now, all that's left is for the Tempest Dragon, himself, to decide.' She stole a glance through her curtains and waited.

Firm knocks clacked upon the outside door. "Milord Percival? You have a visitor: The Heir seeks your counsel."

A familiar voice. It was a Castle guardsman. "Oh? Alright, thank you. I will let him in." As well as another friendly heat signature.

"Welcome to my Suite, promising Heir."

A gypsy's charm could be found in every nook of Percival's bedroom. Glass beads and gossamery strands webbed the vaulted ceiling. The first antechamber looked like a waiting area. Short tables held different-colored bottles. Purely decorative; there was nothing on or in the flasks. Doilies looked old and papery. Even more colorful scarves ran across the side- and tea tables. A bone china tea set lied in wait for a thirsty guest. Beyond the middle area was a mystery: Heavier gossamer cut off visual access into the next room, which was Percival's actual sleeping quarters.

The 3rd Viceroy instructed Sonic to sit down with her. The china waited, somewhat anticipating anything the hedgehog could possibly request. Baípa, lyumyul, and even yirsar'lh were offered, but Sonic declined them all (merely because he didn't know what any of them were). Nonetheless, Percival helped herself to one of the hot beverages.

"Now then. What brings you here, Squire Sonic?"

The giggle that capped her question made Sonic wonder a little bit. "Hey, don't laugh at my name. There's nothing wrong with it, is there?"

"No, I'm merely not used to hearing such…vibrant christenings. Forgive my rudeness, sir." She lulled her laughter, elegant gloved fingers at her lips. Her whiskers twitched at their upturn.

A sweat drop fell down Sonic's jawline. "I guess." His eyes brought his attention toward a golden candelabra, a bigger glass marble under each extending arm. "Anyway, I wanted to meet up with you, so you could answer some questions for me."

Percival blinked at him. Daintily, she placed her rich-blue demitasse back into its cradle. "Were my Luminaria Pages unable to provide you information?"

"No, uhh…actually, I never got to ask them. Since I had a rocky run-in with Bastet—your dragon, right?" A sharp gulp denoted the blue hedgehog's nervousness. "But I apologized immensely, and I think I'm on okay terms with her now…?" Defensive hands waved with the show of a twitchy smile. 'Or I hope so, at least!'

A tiny smile. "Ah, I see." She took another sip. After a hearty swallow, she resumed. "You are still curious about your origins, your likeness to this Kingdom's sovereignty, yes?" Warmed citrines leered up to see Sonic's curious jades. Upon his confirming nod, she went on again. "In that case, I believe I should start from the beginning, a beginning in fairly recent history," she began to explain. She put down her drink and sauntered back through the gossamer drapes.

The room's candlelight flickered upon her exit. An ethereal vibe had wafted away. It made Sonic blink a little. He took a moment to look around: More whimsical glassware, more doting tea sets, doilies and runners protected precious knickknacks from rusting to the shelves. A teeny palm-sized book was on the table corner closest to him. But he wasn't inquisitive enough to try reading it—seeing that it was in a different language.

"Here we are."

Sonic threw his sights back to the books stacked in the felid knight's arms. Carefully, she placed it between Sonic's and her seat. As she seemingly paged through each one, a sweat drop shivered from his temple. "We're not going through all of them, end to end, are we?" he chuckled at the end.

But nimble fingers turned leaflets back and forth. She went from book to book doing this, flipping to sections that may be of use for then and later on. A dark-green spine was held open to a page featuring an overly intricate pattern. Sonic peered over it, and for a moment he could discern the shape of a gemstone. He blinked a little at it.

"We will only review what may answer your questions the closest," Percival told him upon opening the last book. By that time, three books surrounded her lap, his lap, and a couple more rested on the coffee table. "The articles I've found may help in answering your questions." She reached back over for the dark-green tome.

Sonic found himself sliding closer to her. Almost like a child wanting to read along, he peered over her shoulder. A bit unnerved by his closeness, the lady-knight's whiskers frizzled. "Is that an Ensign symbol, Percival?" The coy hedgehog pointed at the page's large inlay.

Percival smirked a little. "Yes, it is. One of the oldest to exist."

"Ensigns can age, too?"

"Yes, but not through the same principles as we Earthborn. Ensigns are ethereal forces that cooperate with us. We Earthborn utilize them as mediums between ourselves, Gaea, and the Gods. These powers come in many varieties—as vast as the Earthwork itself!" She giggled.

Sonic could tell she was getting excited. In spite of his confusion, he fueled her zeal by asking more questions. He didn't have any idea what "Earthborn" were; he assumed it was a term similar to "Mankind" back on Earth. And if these Ensigns were as various as the elements, how many were there? Hundreds? Thousands? But then again, the old-timer albatross mentioned something about the Magistralis Ensign symbolizing royalty. Now, Gods were being introduced? All of it was making Sonic's head swirl.

With the books Percival had pulled out, she was able to explain a few things: Ensigns were apparently created from Fay, those little light creatures just like from the Arthurian tales his mother would read to him. It took a hundred of them to create the four major Ensigns—one of which he bore, himself.

"You, Sir Sonic, have been granted use of the Magistralis Ensign through both the Paridisal Signet and the Sacred Broadsword, Caliburn. Through the Signet, you've proven your heart and motives are wholesome and good. Through Caliburn, you've proven yourself worthy to wield him and uphold the Monarchy's legacy." She nodded a hearty, thoughtful sigh. "Just as I, Gawain, and Lancelot did."

"You were all accepted by your Ensigns?" Sonic blinked a little.

"Yes. Through the graces of the Paridisal Signet, Doyen Gustavio contracted the Pyracantha Ensign to me, and in passing my trial with Laevetein, the Sacred Rapier…I was inducted into the Fanelian Noble Forces."

"But—you're not that much older than me, right?! I mean, you're so young and, and beautiful! And you're a Viceroy, too? That's a lot to juggle!"

Percival was caught off guard by the comment. She wasn't expecting such a frank sweetness from him, of all people. The books in her lap waited as he continued on how such a pretty young lady like herself got into the Kingdom's military. Not that being a girl had anything to do with it, he had to remind her, but the fact that they shared the teen age group baffled him. "You're sixteen, right?" she heard him ask, pointing at her. But she corrected him, shaking her head, "Not quite, I am less than a year shy of it." Her smile was cute somehow; maybe all the more so, now that Sonic realized she was a bit younger than him.

'Then, that means…?' Sonic thought for a moment. Candlelit jades wandering away a little.

'If my guess is correct…?'

A well-crafted globe stood. The waters were painted crisp azures. Continents in realistic prairie greens, mountainous browns, calm snows and steely tundra. Assumed borders were dotted minimally. That belt of hulking mass served as the sole continent, and livable area, with its "heart" most colorful. The top and bottom hemispheres were most frigid. The brazenness of the arm strongly differed from the globe's porcelain daintiness.

Its writing was clear enough to read. 1st Viceroy Lancelot took a good look at it before settling into bed. Daybooks littered his bed, alongside him was a writing mount, where he'd scribble notes and addendums for the morning's meeting. The navy feather danced as he wrote. Candlelight allowed him to see better, but his tablet was right under the red and green moons' light. He dipped his quill into the inkhorn before proceeding again. A teacup sat near the night table's edge.

'Lancelot must be my age…'

Across the rotunda, in the Household Suites, Gawain was meditating again. He preferred most of his clothes removed for the process. With enough mind power, he could imagine sitting over a volcano's mouth—and the perspiration that'd result could soak through and distract him. Down to modest breeches, he sat in lotus position on a dirt patch. Easy breaths, solid stature. Not at all uncomfortable with it. His buff chest heaved every now and then. Seemingly with great concentration, Gawain got up and poised himself, as if ready to perform.

'…And Gawain is seventeen?'

He hummed as he motioned into a set of stances. The moves were strong but elegant, quick but fluid. His cream-and-brown breeches shifted with the fancy footwork. The deep green stonework reflected sconce light off its bronzed Celtic curls and knots. 'All will be well with the Knave, I suppose.' His mind sighed. Dispelling his doubts, he took his place back on the earthy plot.

"Despite our ages, our responsibilities are indeed heavy but not intolerable." Percival took another sip of her hot beverage. It smelled of chocolate and hazelnuts somehow to Sonic.

"But…! You guys are teenagers just like me! You shouldn't be bogged down by all this responsibility! There's a world out there to explore—and you can have fun while doing it, too! …This job's gotta be stressful, right?"

"You are indeed correct, Squire Sonic." Her serious tone created an atmosphere of presentiment around them. What was left of her drink slithered down the cup's inner walls. A dark brown pool barely completed the bottom ring. "But you've overlooked a glaring overall importance in that truth: Our duties in protecting this world serve to preserve it, so that explorers and aspirers may have a world to love. Where there's no need to fear or assume or doubt. This Earthwork is the only one we have. So we, ones graced under the Paradisal Signet, must preserve it, protect it till we cannot anymore."

Sonic wanted to combat the ideology the Viceroy presented, but something stopped him. His understanding in regards to the lady-knight's "protect to preserve" reference was not quite on par with hers. It seemed a tad extreme, what with appointing teenagers such masterful positions and relying on them because of it. Kingdoms usually appointed older people to power, didn't they? This exceeded child labor, in Sonic's opinion. And what exactly were they protecting this world from? Everything seemed to flow wonderfully; from what Sonic had seen upon arriving, everyone looked content, things felt normal.

"We are truly happy where we are, Squire Sonic." A reminiscent glaze was caught in her eyes. "We're proud of where we are in our lives. We've earned these honors, and we intended to uphold them not only for the Kingdom, but for the world." A solemn nod. "It's all we can do, here on this ephemeral plane. Until we are called to Paradise, that is."

It felt like Percival's wise smile flew Sonic to the moon. It also made a twinge of guilt pluck at his heartstrings. 'You all shoulder this responsibility? With such pride and resilience? It's crazy, but…?' He spotted Percival flipping through a different book. It was almost black in color. 'She's right for feeling what she feels. And I'm sure Lancelot and Gawain feel the same way…?' Although, the altercation between the aforementioned Viceroys was recalled. 'Jeez, at least, I hope so!'

"There is one final task you must complete, promising Heir."

Green wanderers blinked out of their lacking focus and turned to the black tome's page. More than just a picture, Sonic marveled the artistry that went into the dragon's lifelike details. The ebon scales almost looked like snakeskin, and something mystical glinted in those clear reptilian pupils. It had a more organic appearance than Escaflowne, however. Realizing it made him blink a little.

"You must follow through with Moloch's Oath in order to ascend the Throne."

"Whoa, what?!"

"Your encounter with Escaflowne was driven by fate. And to gain total partnership with him, you must take Moloch's Oath. This is Moloch the Fen Dragon."—She showed him the dragon again.—"He was the first Draconian ever to bond with an Earthborn. Fables tell us how Moloch met an Ispano Tribesman hundreds of years ago. The most prevalent one is called 'Draconian Trust.'" She flipped to a seemingly correct page number and showed Sonic some illustrations. "It described how said Ispano freed Moloch from a sand trap set by backwoods thieves. They fought them off together, and through that act of selflessness Moloch pledged eternal loyalty to the Ispano Tribesman. It is this promise between Draconian and Earthborn that allows us to form partnerships with other dragons, for Moloch is an ancestor to all of them. Alluding to his nature, Moloch could very well be the Father of all Dragons." Sonic spotted a demure excitement in Percival's explanation. "And to have pledged eternal loyalty to the Ispano is astounding in itself; if not for the Ispano, your lineage may have never risen to power."

Sonic gave her some astounded blinks of his own. "Whoa, for real?" He pulled up another book. Eager to learn more about his "lost heritage," he looked to Percival for translation: Once his eyes hit the page, he'd become completely mind-boggled. She giggled out of embarrassment for him. With the incredibly dark-purple tome in hand, Percival continued to satiate Sonic's hunger for answers.

"…Indeed," she had answered. "Moloch's trust in the Ispano Tribe is what made it famous, trustworthy, a crux in the Worldly Balance. It is your bloodline that safeguards this Kingdom's peace and prosperity, promising Heir."

Like a student who'd just memorized a lesson, Sonic cheered. "Cool! I—think—I get most of what you're saying! Wow, I can see why you get excited over this stuff, Percival!" Sonic laughed a bit clumsily. "It's fun learning about fun things!"

The informal address made the lady-viceroy huff a nervous sigh, ears slumping downward and crooked smile twitching her whiskers. 'He looks just like a happy child,' she couldn't help saying to herself. A modest patience reentered her countenance as she picked up another barrage of Sonic's questions.

"And if you and Escaflowne can make a pure pact with one another—one of complete trust and companionship…I'm sure it will make this plane all the safer."

Scarlet and gold curtains enveloped the doors to an unoccupied Suite. Shown there by Lord Percival herself, she guided him into the massive bedroom. Inside was an ornate setup: It was the same room he'd woken up in after receiving the Magistralis Ensign. Now amidst nighttime darkness, Sonic wandered through the room. He managed to find the lavatory before settling into bed. The thick cushions and blankets were more than just comfortable. Lulled by the nearby candlelight, Sonic almost forgot to blow it out. Just like back home, he'd ended up awakening to his desk lamp before the dawn even had a chance.

"Ave Vespa, dearest Heir," waved the elegant 3rd Viceroy-Knight. She lifted her draping robes and cape to show a curtsy. "Adieu till morn?"

Blindsided by her gesture, he threw a hand to scratch the back of his head. "Ah-hah, yep, I guess so…!" Surely, he was kicking himself for sounding so nasally.

But it didn't bother Percival in the slightest. Perhaps tickled by it, but not perturbed. Another tiny curtsy, and off she went.

Letting Sonic drift off into dreamland. He was eager to learn more about the Kingdom of Fanelia. Its history sounded rich and mysterious, brimming with things and places—even people—to explore. He was even more curious about Escaflowne and the other dragons. Bastet came to mind again, and in it he wondered what nature she represented. The Sacred Weapons collectively seemed to have strong significance to the Kingdom, as well. Sonic wondered what other powers they possessed. Then, there was his grandmother; an apparent entire line of Monarchs that he somehow descended from. Curiosity was making his head swirl.

But, in all the excitement of a child awaiting Christmas morning, Sonic drove himself into a deep sleep. Just before dreamland's gates shut behind him, he could've sworn he picked up his mother's lullaby.

Apparently, So Much It's Kind of Exciting…!