Soar Through Storms

Physical storms crash around, emotional storms crash over... To soar through them, everyone has to be supported by their loved ones... But will they make it?

Note: For the reason that long stories seem to bore people (coughs at certain reader), even though this will be one of my big projects, it will not be as lengthy as my Creature Changers (currently 22 chapters long). I will not turn it into a 5 chapter thing either, though... In any case, this will be more novel like because of that, rather than drawing out every single day like Creature Changers tends to do. This is especially noticeable in this chapter.

Also, because I'm banned from the computer and can only use for a limited amount of time when I sneak on, I decided not to do individual reviews for this like I did for the others. No offence meant, but I think the time would be better spent writing; I think you readers agree? (Besides, I tend to get very long winded on review replies.)

Note: The name Cagalli doesn't sound very feminine actually, especially for those who speak Japanese and pronounce it Kagari. In fact, the idea for this came when a friend of mine said Cagalli sounded male.

Special thanks to all reviewers: Genny-chan, fantasy corns, Ultimate Coordinator Berserker, Celle666, Es, Kageharu Kaco, Pony and cocoapuffaddict. I hope you continue to support this fic!

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Chapter 2: Court Trials Begin

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Over the noise of the other squires as they washed up, Cagalli told Kira what she had overheard at the mages' table.

"It sounded really serious," Cagalli insisted, rinsing the plate she was holding. Kira frowned thoughtfully.

"If the mages were serious, then it must be something big. They talked about Uncle Eldorth?"

"Yes. Do you think Orb and Zaft will go to war?"

Kira placed the last pile of utensils in a side cupboard and waved to the group of pages exiting the kitchen.

"We haven't had a war for many years. Don't worry, Cagalli, things will be fine. Now, are you coming with me for ettiquette lessons?"

Inside, Kira was worrying about what he had just been told. He knew that King Patrick was getting edgy, and was making certain preparations that Kira recognised were for war. But the king had not explained his actions at all, and not a courtier dared to disagree.

They won't go to war without a valid reason, Kira told himself sternly as he entered the cleared dining room with Cagalli for ettiquette training with Duke Rinase. So stop worrying.

But even watching Cagalli and other pages get reprimanded for bowing in the wrong manner at the wrong angle could not distract Kira from his thoughts. Bits and pieces of the mages' conversation that Cagalli had related kept flooding Kira's mind.

Stormstones...?

It was a very long and exhausting night.

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Stones were forgotten as the Court Trials approached. All pages had to pass tests before they were named a squire, and though Cagalli was already 16, she had not taken the test in Zaft previously, so Duke Amarfi insisted that she take it immediately. Zaft squire work was different from Orb's, and Cagalli had quite a bit to learn about Zaft's type.

Custom said that the Heir should be knighted on his 17th year, rather than his 18th. So Kira's time was either spent on his own training, with the king, helping Cagalli get ready for her trial, or sparring with Athrun to ready him for knighthood.

"Sorry for taking up your time, but Nicol's is spent on his music, while Dearka and Yzak are already complaining about how unfair it is that I have the chance of being knighted before them. None of the others are any good," Athrun had said once.

With so many other things on his mind, Kira stopped worrying about the stormstones and focused instead on the tasks at hand. After all, neither the mages nor the king had said anything about an upcoming war, and it seemed like things were peaceful again. Besides, there wasn't much energy left to do any worrying.

Squire Trial Day was bright and sunny. As usual, a whole crowd had turned up to watch the pages run through all that they had learned. Pages from other castles in Zaft had also turned up early in the morning, all eager to pass their tests and become a squire, and came with squires who intended to take the knight trials, as well as nobles who did not stay at court. So Castle Zaft was unusually crowded on the third day of White Moon.

Cagalli's trial ended after a day of jousting, sparring, riding, bowing and singing. Kira was relieved that all she received were minor cuts, bruises and a certificate of squirehood.

So celebrations were held for the new squires that night in a common room, while knights-to-be continued fretting about their own upcoming trials.

"Who do you think did well in this year's squire trials?" Terrence asked, munching on a ripe red apple. He leaned back on a cushion and grinned at eight new pages-turned-squires. These were the ones who had been trained at Castle Zaft.

"I think they all did well," Kira said, offering them a bowl of grapes. "Congratulations to all of you for passing."

"You're too nice," Yzak scoffed. He ran a critical eye over the new squires. "Malven was terrible. SO was Raoul. George, you might be able to do something yet, if you can correct your sword stance, and Lance, you had better learn to hold a lance properly."

The squires wilted under harsh criticism, looking extremely harrassed, and though Kira knew that Yzak was right, he felt sorry for the them.

"George was good," Nicol said, looking up from his new composition suddenly. The blond squire smiled back enthusiastically. "I think others who were good include Shawn and Cagalli."

Shawn, one of the new squires who had an extremely high opinion of himself, smiled charmingly at Nicol and spoke. "I know the Prince is taking his knight trial this time. Do you reckon he'd pick any of us?"

If Athrun were there instead of with King Patrick, he probably would have answered. As it was, Yzak snorted.

"Athrun would never choose one of you babies for a squire."

"And he'd pick you?" Shawn shot back. Instantly, many of the others knew there would be trouble. No one had ever picked Yzak for a squire.

"Yzak prefers to work on his own, you see. That's why Athrun won't pick him for a squire," Nicol tried to soothe the two by being pleasant. But Dearka was siding with Yzak.

"Listen hard, page," he hissed with dislike at Shawn, "If Athrun's picking a squire, the available candidates are Yzak, Sothe, Lawrence and Cagalli. You're most definitely not suitable."

Kira hated disagreements, and he stared from the angry face of Shawn to the furious expressions of Yzak and Dearka, feeling deflated. This was supposed to be a celebration!

Apparently, Kenneth felt the same. He went to the grey piano in the room and thumped out a loud celebrative march, drowning the voices of the quarrelsome ones. Nicol understood what he was doing, and went over to 'correct his mistakes', when in actual fact he created a soft murmur of voices. It was the lead for quiet chatter to break out among the others again, breaking the tension in the room. Yzak and Dearka left the room.

"Is it just me, or are they a really unpleasant lot?" Cagalli noted. Kira shook his head.

"They're not bad. Just critical, and a trifle hasty," he said. "But deep down, they're good hearted, not to mention skilled. So don't you pick a quarrel with them out of impatience!"

Cagalli laughed, and put the argument behind her for a game of chess with her brother.

Only one thought remained. Everyone knew that the Heir needed the best squire that court could offer. Did Dearka really think that she was good enough to fill that position?

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"Shawn?" Athrun frowned. "He gets cocky easily, and then leaves a lot of openings."

"But when he's concentrating, he's good," Nicol insisted.

"That's when he's concentrating," Yzak pointed out. "So to get him to focus, don't tell him that he's good."

The group of four squires were lying on counches in the the large library that occupied the fourth floor in the keep of Castle Zaft.

"And he's got no manners," Dearka said. "You should have been there, Athrun; he was acting like he's the only squire you would pick."

"I don't trust him," Athrun said simply.

"Well then, who are you going pick?" Nicol asked. "You're used to being on your own too, aren't you?"

"I'm not going to follow you, so don't ask," Yzak said, tossing two books in his hands. "Sothe's not too bad, but he's as soft as Kira. He'll get himself into trouble with that."

"And you act like a big bully, but is actually a big softie yourself," Nicol muttered. Athrun chuckled. Seeing Yzak glance at him suspiciously, Athrun slid off the green couch he was leaning on and moved behind several bookshelves, going to the far end of the library.

He needed to think. Like he had told Kira, he really didn't know who to choose.

"I might even have to close my eyes, turn around three times and point," he muttered. Walking around another bookcase, he found a single fair head bent over a thick brown book. Curiously, Athrun moved up behind Cagalli to read over one shoulder.

Originally part of nature itself, in the parts where weather changed. They were formed after many years, when an unnamed mage solidified the forces of weather. A wielder would be able to use it to control the weather and all other elements of natural geography with it. But they caused too much trouble because they were used at the wrong times; torrents of rain aided farmers and flooded others, and war between countries began to make use of the stormstones for destruction as well.

The mage who created the stormstones sealed them away, assigning guardians to them from his own assistants, instructing them to always look after the stormstones, and pass the duty to their descendants when their time is up. The Blizzard Stone, together with the Hurricane Stone, was stored in Zaft, one of the largest kingdoms. The Meteor Stone, along with the Earthquake Stone, was taken to Orb.

The seals that was placed on each stormstone would only last for a hundred years. While they slept, while the guardians looked after them, peace would reign, but a prophecy made senses the coming of catastrophes when the seals were lifted.

Athrun heaved a sigh. Stunned, Cagalli slammed her book shut and spun around to stare at him.

"Idiot!" Cagalli hissed, bringing the heavy book down on Athrun's blue head with a smack. "Don't creep up on me like that!"

Wincing at the small bump forming on his head, Athrun grinned slightly.

"You're the first person to whack me on the head," he commented. "Even during sparring sessions, no blade has ever touched my head."

He took the book from Cagalli and traced his fingers over the gold lettering on the front. 'Stormstones'. "How did you know about the stormstones?"

"I heard some mages talking about it," Cagalli admitted. "Kira knows, too, but King Patrick's not saying anything."

"No, he wouldn't. The seal's due to be broken any time in these few weeks. When that happens, weather and warring storms will break over us."

"Why isn't everyone told, then?" Cagalli demanded. "If it's that serious, why is King Patrick keeping it a secret?"

"Father has his reasons," Athrun explained. His fingers clenched around the book he was holding. "If everyone knew about the impending danger the stormstones might bring, there would be chaos. People would be afraid."

"But that way no one's preparing for the danger! By the time the stormstones are released from their seals there would be no time to flee or ready ourselves!" Cagalli argued. "And it isn't good to keep people in the dark. They ought to learn about what's happening, rather than sit around like puppets that are ignorant of everything around!"

"That's the point! If no one knew about the stormstones, there would be lesser people aiming to use the stormstones' power themselves!" Athrun snapped, irritated at Cagalli's self-righteous tone. "Father knows what he's doing. He's working for the good of everyone, so you don't have to question his actions."

"Oh, indeed. You know, Your Highness, not everyone is a helpless subject who sits around waiting to be helped and looked after. We have hands and feet to do our own work, and protect ourselves." Turning, Cagalli stomped out of the library.

How could she have ever thought of being his squire? The court of Zaft was just the same as Orb's. Full of rules, commands, and rulers have the last say over everyone else.

Cagalli was tired of being ordered around.

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There was a much bigger crowd watching on the tenth day of White Moon, when the knight trials began. Altogether, there were eight squires that were declared ready for knighthood that year. Even before the event started, everything was planned and prepared. Four squires would be tested in one day; on the third, a dubbing ceremony would be held for those who passed, followed by a grand feast of celebration.

The knight trials were to take place in the large parade square before the castle keep, like the squire trials. A significant difference between the two was the presence of the Trial's Chamber. This was a small room created entirely out of magic by a Royal Mage, and was transported out to the parade square by ten mages every White Moon. A Something existed in there, and was the main judge of whether a squire was suitable for knighthood or not.

Most knights never spoke of the Chamber. Those who did speak of it mentioned different tales. One said a spirit lived in it. Another said the room was actually a maze of dangers. Some mentioned monsters. With different tales, squires were clueless about what they would face in the Chamber.

It had been snowing hard on the night before the first day of the knight trials, but morning brought a bright sun into the sky, announcing the beginning of an important event. A cream palomino stepped out into the snow, its hooves making deep imprints in the white snow.

Snorting at the cold and wet, it shied and tried to return to its stall in the stable. Though Cloud's Lining was considered one of the best horses in the stables, it was extremely temperamental, very stubborn, and used to getting its own way. It didn't like its current rider much either, and it could tell that he didn't like it much himself. But Stefan, the stablemaster, had chosen the two to work together. Behave, he had said sternly to the horse.

Right now the horse was determined to act like a mule and run back into his stall rather than venture out into the cold. Athrun tugged at its headcollar patiently, guiding him towards the open gate. Patience was a stronger value than obstinacy after all, and soon Athrun was in the parade square with his bad-tempered ride plodding beside him.

The stablemaster, Stefan, came from a peasant family, but was chosen for the job because of his skill with horses. He grinned at Athrun as the young prince approached.

"Not giving ya any trouble, is 'e?"

"I don't think he likes snow much," Athrun replied wryly. "All I can do is hope he won't throw me."

"Nay. 'E's a lousy tempered fella, but 'e's obedient, dat 'e is. Don't worry, highness, 'e'll be good," Stefan said, slapping the palomino on the head. "Ya hear that, old thang? Be good!"

Athrun could have sworn that the horse rolled its eyes.

"Ya go on and get ready, highness. I'll git him armoured up."

Nodding his thanks, Athrun headed off to get himself armoured up. He glanced at the people gathering to watch, and breathed deeply.

He had to make it through. Anything else would be unthinkable.

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Kira knotted the binds together tightly, then tucked them behind the plates they were attached to. He picked up the last piece of armour to be put on, the helmet, and untied the chin straps.

"I don't want to wear that," Athrun said crossly. He hated to wear armour, and preferred to wear light robes for easy movement, though metal was the best protection a knight could have. His current attire was not even the full armour that knights were supposed to wear; thin chest plates and back plates, gauntlets and boots were all he wore over his tunic and padding.

"All right," Kira said pleasantly. "Go ahead and let your skull crack."

Athrun threw a glove at him. "I mean it. I don't want to wear it. I can't see anything with it on."

"Athrun, it's for your safety. Just put it on," Kira said quietly. He placed the helmet on his friend's head and tied the chin straps firmly down. "Besides, your new squire would probably insist on you being fully armoured for every fight. You have to get used to it."

"Yes, I know. Father says if I can't decide, he will choose a squire for me," Athrun said glumly, irritatedly trying to adjust his helmet so that it wouldn't fall over his eyes and nose.

"You really can't trust anyone else around you for that position?"

"Actually, if you consider the 'squire will be near me all the time', I could also choose someone I wanted to keep an eye on," Athrun said wryly. "Rather than someone I can trust."

"So... you'd choose somebody you can't trust?" What Athrun said made sense, but he was probably the first to think of it.

No... he wasn't!

That has to be why King Patrick picked him! Someone he couldn't trust... a prince from Orb...

So that he could keep an eye on him? But why? Orb and Zaft were alliances, weren't they?

War...

It can't be!

"Kira?"

Startled, Kira looked up. Athrun was staring at him, a curious look on his face.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. What were you saying?"

He couldn't tell Athrun. The prince trusted his father beyond words. Besides, he could be wrong. If the King wanted to pick people who were going against him, there were several others from other countries as well. Even from Orb, there was...

"I asked, who else do you think would be suitable?"

"Cagalli."

"What!"

Startled, Kira blinked. "Huh?"

"You think I should choose your hot headed brother?" Athrun asked, raising an eyebrow. Then again... maybe that wasn't such a bad choice. The boy was sharp, and learnt quickly. Even if he had a tendency to question the doings of the king... well, he was from another kingdom anyway. Maybe Athrun could show him that being loyal to King Patrick was the right choice.

"Er... what?" Kira! This comes of not paying attention to the conversation at hand!

"You may be right," Athrun said. "Part of that comes from wanting me to look after Cagalli for you, right?"

"What? I don't..."

"BAB-BA-DOO-DAH-BA-DAH-BA-DAH-BA-DOO-DAHT!" It was a trumpet.

"My call." Athrun pushed his helmet straight and opened the door. "Wish me good luck!"

"Athrun..." Suddenly, talk of picking squire seemed redundant. If Athrun failed the trial, he wouldn't even get to pick one.

"Good luck."

The pair smiled at each other, and exited into the parade square, where the trial awaited.

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Well, that's about it for now. But I think most of you can predict what will happen next... right?

Review please!

Daidairo

1st September 2006