The Wind Chronicles of Gaea


Event Twenty-Nine

I'm learning about you…more and more


Twilight teased the incoming night. After dinner, Old Man Nostramazakh showed Arthur a seat. Atop a cushion, seemingly handmade, Arthur sat. Not too far from his feet was a stack of books; easily, he was reminded of Percival.

"That lass takes after my heart better than my own apprentice," the elderly echidna had to admit. He picked up one from a different stack. "Lady Percival, I mean." He chuckled.

A breathless expression took over Arthur's face. "Are you…r-reading my mind or something?"

"In a way. But Lassie Percival has always been enthralled by my books. They're easy reads, informative, as she holds a deep appreciation for knowledge and wisdom." He flipped through a dark-gold tome. Knotted borders engraved its leather covers. "I'm glad the Castle Library holds interest to her. It does this old man's heart good!" He gave a hearty laugh.

"Wait, what are you saying?"

Spotting confusion, the Old Man smiled. "Oh, forgive me, Young Lord. I haven't formally introduced myself, have I?" Laying his book on his lap, he folded his hands together; riddled by age, they shuddered a bit before coming together. "I am Nostramazakh, the 'Old Man' a mere coinage that I acquired over my many years. I hail from far away—the eastern side of Talaeth, but traveled to Fanelia to become a priest. I made it, but now I'm retired. Fanelian Queens sought me out for advice for generations, so I'm not surprised by your coming here." He smiled again. "I've authored almost every single book in your Castle's Library. And, a lot of the land's history is up here." He poked his temple.

Arthur was stunned. "You know…everything, huh?"

"Almost. I've lived for over 900 years, thanks to the Faunal Signet. I've been blessed with it by the Permafrost Dragon, Jeture. He dwells not too far from us—in Celena's Permafrost. That's why it's kind of chilly here." He laughed gently.

"So, the Faunal Signet's kept you alive…for almost a millennium?"

"That's right. I'm much more attuned to the Earthwork because of it, too. Countless seasons, days and nights, migrations, births and deaths, even the growth of trees and villages—I've seen them all. Also, because the Satyrs never stop bragging about it to me."

Then, Arthur was sideswiped. "S-…Satyrs? As in, one of the Albion?"

"Ah, there's a familiar term," he cheered. "Yes, indeed…I never hear the end of it, either. One will claim to have allowed crops to prosper during a drought, while another will cultivate wildflowers just to please Lady Khümrolia. Once she becomes a topic, the Satyrs debate relentlessly, vying for her attention and favor…Ugh."

The young king caught a look of light exasperation on the echidna's face. To it he shyly half-smiled. "Well, that's something I've never experienced. Nor will I. Heh heh…Sorry to hear that."

"All's well that ends well." The Old Man's smile never cowered away. Even from the sudden sternness that entered his voice. "Go to Diadem Abbey, Young Lord. It may provide an answer for you about Escaflowne, your lineage, maybe special powers you've yet to master…."


"Perhaps even yourself."

Nighttime stars twinkled. The Mystic Moon greeted Gaea, as always. Now that the summer months were nigh of passing, it also meant that the Fire Demigoddess and Wind Demigod would soon see an outcome in their battle. Fighting fiercely, her Heat and his Wind would sometimes clash badly enough to cause droughts. Therefore, their grandfather—the Father Earthmover, Phelfideüs—would step in. Gustavio said he was fair, according to Gaean legend. An ageless man who heralded the world's wisdom, as well. Jokingly, he'd say he was "only a tad" jealous.

Much like the Father Earthmover, Old Man Nostramazakh had a lot of wisdom to share. It'd have been impossible for Arthur not to believe it. "My grandmother even sought his advice," the thought sculled across his mind.

Which reminded him: The Old Man had to know his grandmother, too, right?

For now, Arthur followed the sage's instruction to head to Diadem Abbey. Wherever that was.

"Escaflowne?" bright emeralds asked, "Do you know where this 'Diadem Abbey' is?"

Nothing was given as a reply. Only another wingbeat.

"It's safe to assume you do, since we're, uh…" He blinked nervously. "Not going back to the Castle."

Much further north, closer to the Floresta Mountains' foothills, sat a strange knoll. It was hard to distinguish it in the darkness, but Escaflowne seemed to spot it just fine. Meadows hugged its sides, and a single dirt path coiled around it. It was an odd sight to Arthur: A knoll with a winding dirt part sitting in the middle of nowhere. On top of that, there was a structure to crown it.

The young king looked on as he dismounted from Escaflowne's saddle. The Tempest Dragon gave the sight a sullen glare. It was mostly destroyed, desolate, and lonely. As if there'd been no activity for years.

"Whoa, kinda creepy-looking," Arthur had to say. "So, is that the Abbey, Escaflowne?"

In return, a just-as-sullen nod.

"Hey? You okay?"

Then, a hiss. It almost came off as annoyed.

"This place doesn't scare you, does it? You scared of ghosts or something?" Arthur chuckled.

Despite it, Escaflowne showed his master a blank face before replying with a matter-of-fact squawk.

Arthur instantly stopped laughing. Sweat beaded, then raced down his face. An overt fear had taken over. He blinked rapidly. "W-W-Wait…What'd you say about a poltergeist?"


Onward, Escaflowne ferried his master up the hill. From what Arthur understood, the Abbey stood atop the Diadem Tor—the hill with a winding path said to serve as a "spiritual journey" to anyone who treks it. The most important part, though, was that it needed to be followed from start to finish, or else no spiritual insight would be gained. Escaflowne compared the feeling to when someone walks into a room and forgets what they went in it for.

"So, a doorway effect, huh?" The blue hedgehog scanned the environment.

As Escaflowne moved along the path, flowers were kissed by glowing orbs of light. They shivered a little. Arthur peered closer at the multitude of colorful lights. They were moving; upon curious inspection, a whole flock had come up to greet him and Escaflowne. Chuckling, Arthur returned it. "Hey, are these fairies, Escaflowne? Ha ha—they're kinda cool-looking! And adorable…?"

A courageous bunch rested around the hedgehog's crown. Forming a crown. It was perfect, since they were a pale shade of gold. Arthur laughed with them in their mischief.

Only for Escaflowne to huff a little.

Before he knew it, Escaflowne had stopped to let him off. The young king dispelled the fairy-crown and hopped down from the riding saddle. He patted off his trousers. At some movement, Arthur threw his eyes in the dragon's direction. He watched for a moment as he tucked in his wings, gave the soil a solid pawing, and curled up like a cat on a hearth. Somewhat pleased by the sight, the hedgehog smiled.

"You'll be okay if I leave you here, won't you? All I have to do is go through there…Strange. I don't feel like I've been on a 'spiritual journey' or anything like that." He went on ahead. The single archway was tall, though dilapidated. "Probably because those fairies distracted me…Heh heh."

As Arthur disappeared into it, Escaflowne caught the edge of his comment. He sighed. Emerald eyes spied the fairies' movements. Some were a bit too intimidated by his size to come near, but others braved it to comfort him. Pale-green orbs bobbed back and forth; pale-blue ones floated by with hesitant care. The pale-gold ones stayed to snuggle against Escaflowne's body. Unlike the fairies from medieval lore, the Fay on Gaea were said to be by-products of the Hemispheric Gods' essence. The Fay were friends with the world's fauna and flora, including the Draconians, and held sacred tasks in their own right.

Escaflowne wondered if Arthur knew that. So, he asked the gold fairies—the Sylphs—to help him out. Obediently, a passel of them went to follow Arthur's trail.


The Abbey's property had become ruins. The only things left standing were the main arch, and what looked like a vestibule. Trees stood guard, while wildflowers flourished in bare spots. Arthur noticed that the fairies cleared out as he moved further in; in fact, most of them had. Except for the ones coming up to his shoulder. He was glad to see them. "Would you mind lighting the way for me? I'm sort of struggling to see…." Happy to oblige, they stringed along the boy's line of sight. As he grew closer, the last fairy flittered to the front. To one who'd forgotten Arthur let out a tiny chuckle.

It was broken inside, much like on the outside. Only a façade of its former self. It was dark, so Arthur entered with his guard up. He envisioned the vestibule being grand, magnificent, designed by an expert. Its masterful details, however, were lost to history. A downtrodden quality took roost in Arthur's eyes. The fairies hadn't fled, but they flittered nervously at his expression.

"It feels broken, if I can say that." Arthur took in more of what the abbey had been, struggling to see its original beauty. "From what I can tell, it sounds like it was a convent. Like where Gustavio grew up, except for…well, women."

"Indeed, Boy-King."

Arthur threw himself into a defensive stance. His ears swiveled about. "Who's there? Show yourself."

"Be at ease, Boy-King. I mean you no harm."

A woman's voice. Arthur let down his guard. It was unfamiliar, but clear and honest. He turned around to face its source. The Sylphs bobbed towards her in an excited way. Their gold auras brightened her silhouette. She was a beauty, a fluffy-tailed mink, garbed in traditional clothes befitting to a leader, though not of a military or kingdom. Encircling her wrist was a rosary. Noticing it, Arthur approached her bravely.

She smiled at his approach. After a nod, her curtsy was different from what Fanelian women usually showed him. Instead of lifting her skirts, her hands stayed in front of her. "I am Abbess Iustine. Welcome, Boy-King, to the Diadem Abbey."

Arthur bowed handsomely to her. "Thank you, my lady. I am King Arthur from the Kingdom of Fanelia," he introduced himself, "And I've come here on the behest of Old Man Nostramazakh. I've only recently taken the throne, but I'm seeking advice on a matter I'm having trouble with."

"Ah. With the Tempest Dragon, the Fen and Maiden's third-born?"

"Y-Yes…ma'am."

She gave him a kind smile. The Sylphs swayed around her like lanterns. "I see. I have been tasked to do so since the Abbey's destruction many a century ago. A conflict in the distant past devastated this area, extending across most of Titanic Plains. I've not seen the heiresses after your Kingdom's first Queen, but now…I've met both Helene III and Elena. Your grandmother and mother, respectively."

Confusion traced itself underneath Arthur's dipping brows. "Wait. But how?"

His question was answered with a calm proudness. "I've met them…through you."

Arthur's eyes widened a bit. Gentle psalms rose over the Abbess's ghost. The Sylphs swarmed upward, twirling in a glowing stream. It looked like it was dispersing itself into the ethers. "Gather your wit and courage, Young Arthur, and go to your allies," came the Abbess's parting instruction. "The Tempest Dragon seeks what you are seeking. He is troubled by the events in his past, by a darkness that destroyed Old Fanelia."

Arthur left with a cloud of questions. As he and Escaflowne coasted back to Fanelia Castle, he wasn't sure how to decipher the Abbess's advice. The closest allies he could think of, whom might offer the thickest slivers of help, were Doyen Gustavio, his deputy Alfred, and Chancellor Miles. Just how much insight could they provide? Was it enough to alleviate the tension between him and his Draconian partner?

For now, Escaflowne was relatively calm. Almost relaxed. Glad, Arthur decided to let Escaflowne keep the reigns. The Castle was in sight, now.

"Go to your allies, Young King. You will both find the answers you seek…together."

King Arthur's return brought his counsels back into the Ambassadorial Cabinet. The central chamber held the King's Round Table. High vaults allowed moonlight to beam down. The high belfry was a surefire nest for Gaea's nocturnal fauna. An earthen rosette barred the creatures from entering, its muddled glass letting in nighttime light.

The King and his counselors were prepared to take their seats. Silent acknowledgement floated around the room before Chancellor Miles initiated the sit-down. "5th Nocturne. Orange, 8th Moon. Present, Lord Arthur Dalian,"—Arthur nodded—"Doyen Gustavio Macchus,"—the elder half-bowed—"Deputy Alfred Rohmann,"—the big cat smiled softly—"and myself, Chancellor Miles Prowler. This Cabinet meeting may now commence."

The four gentlemen took their seats. The Round Table's crest braved through the darkness with its moonlit shine.

"Doyen," Arthur began over laced fingers, "during our travels, Escaflowne and I came across the Old Man's hospice. I had a chat with him, about the problems I'm having with Escaflowne. Going on the advice he gave me, we traveled to Diadem Abbey. Where I was told to seek out Abbess Iustine."

"…Abbess Iustine?" Miles wondered. "She presided over the Abbey and its convent hundreds of years ago. How were you able to speak to her?"

"Through the Sylphs," came Gustavio's answer. He made a courtesy of explaining it to Miles. "Fay can act as mediums for the departed, coalescing to form magical projections of a person. Depending on the affinity that parted soul had prior to death, a certain species of Fay may convene in vaster quantities than the others." Looking to Arthur, "In this case, the Sylphs were able to convey her based on the aura she had when she was alive."

"Fay are drawn to people's auras?" Arthur blinked.

"Yes. The very fact that the Sylphs guided you to her is key proof of that."

Arthur thought back for a moment: He had noticed a handful of distinctive colors the Fay exhibited on his way up the Tor. Some had a blue tinge, while others had a pink or yellow one. Was that what differentiated them? Now that he remembered, the fairies that'd followed him were identical to the ones hovering around Escaflowne.

It made Arthur want to ask something else. "So…does the same go for Dragons, too?"

Miles looked at Gustavio, a curious look of his own drawing a tiny smile across his face. Alfred's did the same.

"…Something similar happens, in regard to Draconians, yes, sire."

The sixteen-year-old's interest was piqued. But he set the question aside for another time. "Doyen? Abbess Iustine told me that Escaflowne is seeking the same thing I am…but she touched at a clue to what's been bothering him lately. She said something about 'events' in Escaflowne's past—that he's troubled 'by a darkness that destroyed Old Fanelia'…?" His eyes turned to the albatross. "Do you know what she's referring to?"

With full-faced honesty, and after a surrendering sigh, Gustavio replied: "Yes. I do, my lord."

Arthur caught Miles's hesitation. A purely physical reaction from the ten-year-old fox. Knowing the Doyen, he was sure the explanation would come in the most bare-boned and straight-laced sense. A sense of dread had rested on Miles's shoulders.

Arthur wasn't going to like this one bit.

"Think further back, sire, to a time when a village has just grown into a kingdom. Tribes came together and forged truces, pacts, agreements that benefitted all…to a note of a dutiful, brave maiden's song."

Arthur's imagination activated, and it took him through a possible leap back in time.

His mind's stage opened up to a lovely woman standing in a cheering crowd's midst.

"Fanelia's first Queen, Mother Larynn Selbadeir. She was a kind, just woman whose interests lied in education, fairness, harmony, and peace. According to our earliest records, there was a trial she had to pass before she'd rule from the newly established throne. Her father had sent her off to the Floresta Foothills, near the Tempest Dragon's roost…"

The beauty rode on horseback and arrived to the bottom of a tall crag. Similar to the ones he found during his training with Percival.

"It was there that she met Escaflowne for the very first time."

Escaflowne locked eyes with the maiden.

"Her personal account says that the dragon 'was not impressed' by her. She admitted her lack of strength, as an expression of humility, but it was the air of distrust she worried more for. Her father had instructed her to dispel the distrust he seemed to have with the Earthborn…It was as mysterious as the Draconian himself, but she attempted to win his trust with peace offerings, companionship, and adoration…only to fail each time."

He envisioned her bringing him food, jewels and water—to which he shook his head. Sitting beside him in silence didn't make things progress; only awkward, leading him to ignore her. Even showering him with compliments and praise backfired, he was sure. Accepting her words fully, he gave nothing but rudeness in return. It was an oddly irritating sight, even in Arthur's imagination.

"Months into the future, her persistence and fortitude won him over. Countless trips back and forth, a mountain of gifts, and a cycle of praise, derision, and humiliation later, Mother Larynn had won Escaflowne's favor, and the news allowed her to ascend the throne. This day in our history is presented as the 'Coronation of the Tempest-Queen'."

Arthur could only imagine the relief on her face as she paraded through the town's streets. Rice and bubbles rained everywhere. Her smile was huge.

Gustavio's voice took a grave plunge. "However, that very same day was christened the 'Attempt of Nadal,' due to a disgruntled offshoot of rebels who'd tried to assassinate the Queen."

Miles gulped. Arthur's thoughts became jarred. "Did they succeed?"

"No. She avoided a grim demise after being protected by her father's guardsmen. Doubtless that more would come for her, she went into seclusion. She was escorted to the Diadem Abbey on the correspondent order of her father and Abbess Iustine, herself."

Arthur could see the Abbess rushing Larynn inside. The doors he knew had gone were shutting quietly…

"Nadal was the rebels' leader and a dissident within Old Fanelia. Some believe him to have been a spy; others, a faithless heathen. Nonetheless, his attempt grew into a coup against the reigning family. The violence took innocent lives, pillaged homes, and eventually it was all swallowed by fire."

Shock took over the King's face as he imagined the grit of Gustavio's explanation. The screams, the bloodshed, and mercilessness…even down to a toy doll's abandonment.

"Escaflowne had noticed the Queen's uncustomary absence before discovering the destruction. Instinct snatched him from his home, and he surveyed the chaos from high above. Afraid that the Queen had perished, his emotions seized him…and he unleashed a dark force upon Old Fanelia."

That was where Arthur's imagination stopped. Chilled by such an intense reaction from the Tempest Dragon, the teenager sat back and allowed Gustavio to finish.

"He'd been blinded by his sadness and rage that he brought down a storm—a swirling heaven—upon the settlement. It destroyed everything within range. Even Nadal and his rebel army had succumbed to its might. Inadvertently, Escaflowne had destroyed not only the threat to his most beloved friend's, but could've destroyed her home in the process."

Miles sniffled a little. Nothing about that part of the story was a comfort to him. It was always enough to bring tears to his eye.

"By the highest grace, Mother Larynn survived. But that event is forever inked into Fanelia's history. It is the reason for the displacement of the Purlieu's denizens."—Arthur had gasped—"It is also the first, and sole, account of an Ensign's ability to become tainted."

A sweat drop flew down Arthur's jawline. "An Ensign…can become tainted?"

"Yes, it can," Alfred answered this time. "And it usually occurs when its user finds himself unable to restrain his emotions. Essentially, the power runs wild throughout the wielder's body because of the lack of equilibrium between them. It's similar to your heart's reaction to exercise, and the force of the pumping blood swells within you. Your body temperature also increase, especially if anger is what spurred such a response."

Arthur's eyes wobbled. His pupils danced in and out of dilation. Just thinking about it spooked him.

"Anger isn't the exclusive way to lose control, Your Highness," Alfred continued, trying to sound a bit more hopeful. "Other catalysts may be sadness, loneliness, guilt, even fear…which is why after Old Fanelia was destroyed, Queen Larynn saved Escaflowne with the Spiriting Prayer. He heard her song, and the skies calmed. He, himself, was relieved and rushed to her side once all had gone. Survivors were shaken and deathly afraid of Escaflowne, but the Queen became Fanelia's 'Hero-Queen' after resurrecting our new Kingdom from the ashes of the Old. The citizens praised her, witnessing her taking Moloch's Oath with Escaflowne firsthand. Thereafter, he'd pledged his loyalty to her, the new kingdom and its people, and her line of progeny…" With a great big smile, Alfred finished by adding, "And I'm elated to say that it's succeeded all the way down to you, Your Highness."

An epiphany struck the King like lightning. Had the darkness in Escaflowne's heart gone away? Was a song really all that was needed to calm him down? This Queen sounded amazing. But it was a scary thing for Arthur to realize.

"If something were to happen to me…" he had to ask, "Would Escaflowne react…the exact same way?"

Because Arthur was afraid to see the Dragon destroy everything within range.

I've learned…a little too much about you…