Winds of Eruna, Book One

By Kathy Hyatt Moore

The world of Eruna, where the wind never ceases, is inhabited by winged beings (known as "Wings") and beings without wings (known derogatively as "Grubs"). Every winged child in the Eight Realms and Northern Provinces is sent to Cliffside School by the age of eight to be educated and prepared to participate in the Wind T

• Language: English
• Publisher: Authors' Tranquility Press
• Release date: Mar 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781960675361

Kathy Hyatt Moore

Ms. Moore has had the privilege to live in many different places with her now-deceased husband of forty-seven years, and she has been greatly influenced by other countries and cultures. She is the mother of a daughter and three sons, who between them have given her nine wonderful grandchildren. She is blessed to live in mid-North Carolina and write from an idyllic cabin with a pond nearby to inspire her.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Aflier arrived at his destination with an important message, unseen in the thick darkness.

The messenger folded his wings, flung a long black cloak over his shoulders, and raised the hood of the cloak to hide his face.

He slipped quietly through a rough wooden door left unlocked at the back entrance of an old, dilapidated inn. The inn was located away from the usual comings and goings of decent society. In fact, the whole village was in a region where decent society would rarely fly or set foot.

The messenger crept stealthily up the back stairs to the second-floor landing. He paused to make sure no one was in the hallway and then continued cautiously to the last door on the left.

He softly tapped a series of prearranged rhythms on the rough, unpainted door so as not to disturb the handful of sleeping guests, which at this particular inn consisted mainly of cutthroats, thieves, and other undesirable riffraff who wished to remain anonymous for various and nefarious reasons.

The door opened immediately, as if the occupants had sensed the flier’s presence and had been waiting for his knock. The message was quickly handed over, and the door was closed quietly. No words were exchanged.

The recipient of the message strode across the room to stand beside a ratty, old armchair next to the fireplace where his companion warmed her hands and waited patiently. He stood next to her and read the message. When he finished, he passed the message to her and sat down beside her on a rickety three-legged stool, which threatened to fall apart under him. She quickly scanned the message, wadded it up, and tossed it into the fire.

They both watched the message burn to bits of ash. She then picked up a long, crooked stick from a meager pile of branches and twigs on the hearth and poked vigorously at the ashes. She threw the poker stick, along with an additional handful of twigs, into the fire. Taking a deep, troubled breath, she exhaled a lengthy sigh and finally spoke.

So, they have a daughter, she said, leaning back in the armchair.

So it seems, he said as he smiled with obvious delight. Now it has begun, and may the Winds watch over them.

Blast the Winds! I just hope we all survive! said his companion irritably.

Blasphemy, my dear? he asked as he raised his eyebrows and turned to look at his companion in feigned shock.

You know as well as I, it will be as it will be. Prophecy rarely means exactly what you think it means or is fulfilled in the way you think it ought to be.

I do hope all of them will live through this, though, especially their little winglet, he said and sighed. She will be so young, and completely unaware of her true potential when she comes to us…if all goes as planned. We have nothing to do for it now but to pray…and may the Great Wind have mercy on us all!

With that said, he smiled reassuringly at his companion and took one of her hands in his. They sighed in unison as they settled themselves to ponder what the future might hold not only for the newborn and her parents but also for Eruna and the very fabric of the universe.

CHAPTER 1

TAVAT

It was well into the half-cycle and far warmer than usual on the Great Northern Plateaus of Eruna, yet it was still cold enough for Tavat to see his breath. The last few turns the weather had been truly pleasant. The winds had been milder, and the northern lights had been more beautiful than Tavat could remember. On this particular turn, the winds, which always blew on Eruna, did little more than ruffle his feathers and pull gently at his furs.

He was happy to be hunting by himself, although he knew there were at least two warriors watching over him, albeit as discreetly as possible. He frowned in annoyance. It irritated Tavat that they were there, but he knew it was tradition and thought to be necessary. Tavat didn’t think they were necessary but begrudgingly tolerated their presence anyway.

As Ema’Kame, Leader of the Eight Clans, he could never truly be alone. There would always be a few warriors around to protect him. At least the warriors guarding him left him alone with his thoughts and only made their presence known if danger presented itself. They seemed to know not to interfere with him or distract him. He had much on his mind concerning his precious granddaughter, Ooloo. He knew she was uniquely gifted, and for that reason he feared greatly for her. Determination welled up in his heart to protect her even from herself if he must.

But for now, he would set those thoughts aside and simply enjoy hunting. He stamped his feet and blew into his calloused hands to warm them before raising his bow. His vantage point on the rocky ledge was good, with the sun rising above the mountain at his back and the open sky before him.

The sky was blue with hints of pink and orange as the sun rose over the mountaintop. Tavat could clearly see the river below, teeming with life. Water-hoppers were splashing and frolicking in the current, and schools of silver-fin were snapping up water-nits. Perhaps he would spend a little time later this turn, walk its banks with Ooloo, and let her pick sweet-berries. They could talk privately, away from the many distractions of the clan.

As Ema’Kame, he was always required to settle one dispute or another. The people of the High Plateaus were spirited and strong of will. They had to be to survive the harsh living conditions and many dangers where they lived. Even with the danger, life in the mountains of the High Plateaus was never dull and frequently enjoyable.

He realized his mind was wandering again and chided himself. The skies bore many dangers, and he was on the hunt for one of them. He really ought to concentrate on what he was doing and keep his eyes on the sky in case something watched and hunted him. He could not afford such a lapse in vigilance.

Tall, dark, and lean, Tavat was experienced at blending in with the rocky terrain. The furs he wore for warmth, skinned from the winged, nimble-footed oarao, were variegated, and his glossy wings poking out of the slit in the back were brown and black speckled. He was well camouflaged against the mountain. Nevertheless, it was not wise to let his mind wander even though the warriors, who tried to be inconspicuous, would help him if needed.

The wind was strong as usual, but he knew how to compensate so that his arrow would strike true. He was the most accurate warrior with the bow in the clans and was expert with most other weapons as well. He never missed his target and was proud of that fact.

Tavat made his bow when he was just a winglet barely eight cycles old, as had his father, his father’s father, and all the generations of fathers before him. It was a time-honored tradition to spend a turn with one’s father, seeking out the best tree with the best limb and crafting it into a bow. A father always gave his son or daughter his or her first quiver of arrows. All offspring of the clans, male and female, were expected to make their own bow and know how to use it.

Bows were always crafted from the wood of the short baab tree that grew only on the mountains where his people lived. It was a strong wood from a strong tree. The tree, like Tavat’s people, had to be strong to survive the harsh wind and weather that swept over the mountainous regions of the Northern Plateaus, as well as the many dangers they faced daily.

Tavat remembered how joyful he had been when he took his son, Arvra, to the same baab tree where he let him pick the limb from which he made his bow many cycles ago. He remembered how excited his son had been when Tavat gave him his first quiver of arrows. Now that bow and quiver sat unused in the cave where he and the rest of his family lived, and sadness threatened to grip his heart.

Tavat and his own father had crafted his first bow near the very spot where he stood. Tavat could see the baab tree from which they had cut the limb for his bow so long ago. Ooloo was still too young to make her bow, but perhaps next cycle Tavat would bring her to the same tree and let her choose a limb.

It would give him much pleasure to bring Ooloo to this spot and tell her stories of her ancestors, especially about his father, her great-grandfather. He would also tell her about his son, Ooloo’s own father. Whenever he thought of Arvra, it was with a sadness he would not allow to become bitterness.

Tavat had been told that he looked a lot like his father, especially since he had become Ema’Kame. Like his father, he was tall, lean, and had light brown skin. His long, black hair was streaked with gray just above his ears. He wore it tied back to keep it out of his angular face and amber eyes.

He still missed his own father, even after all these cycles. He still missed his son too. It was an ache in his heart that would always be there, although the ache had begun to lessen whenever he thought about Ooloo. It had been two cycles ago that Arvra had been carried home to their cave, dead, bloodied, and torn by the kahak he and his friends had been hunting.

He saw a lot of his son in Ooloo’s features. He also saw a lot of his father in her, especially in the way she looked when she concentrated or when she laughed. She certainly had his stubbornness. Her giftedness, her magic, was all her own.

Tavat had led the clans for many cycles since his father died, and the lines at the corners of his dark brown eyes and wide mouth were deep. His cheeks and forehead also bore the small wrinkles of his many cycles.

His eyes were focused under bushy black brows as he spotted his prey, a large kahak. It flew high above him in the cloudless sky. The creatures were named for the sound they make, and this particular kahak was of the blue-tailed variety.

Kahak are predators and dangerous to hunt. Their razor-sharp claws and beak can easily rip a hunter apart. He thought again about how his son had been attacked by a pair of kahak while hunting with two other warriors less than two cycles ago. It was still painful for him to remember how his son had died as a result his injuries. Those two cycles had been almost unbearable.

Tavat reminded himself that kahak are just one of the many dangers his people face every turn. There are also dangers on the ground from both plants and animals. Choke-vine, a plant that can choke the life from the unwary or careless, is particularly nasty. Once it wraps around an ankle, it injects a poison through its spiny thorns that renders its victim immobile. If it is a mature plant, it can wind around the body, making its way to the neck where the thorns attach to the jugular vein and literally suck the life from the victim. An immature plant simply winds around the body all the way to the neck and slowly chokes the victim to death.

Tavat was confident the circling kahak had not spotted him. It was concentrating on its own prey, a fat, ground-dwelling achuhca and his family. The kahak was large with a wingspan four times as wide as Tavat was tall. In contrast, the furry brown achuhca and its family were small and round, each barely as large as Tavat’s head. The kahak could eat the achuhca in one bite.

The achuhca were oblivious to the danger above them as they gorged themselves on juicy, red sweet-berries by the wide river below. Even from this distance, Tavat heard them grunting and snuffling in pleasure. His hearing was as keen as ever, even though he was close to forty-five cycles old.

The kahak circled lower and ever closer to the riverbank as it prepared to strike its prey. Tavat breathed deeply, calming himself, and took careful aim with his bow and arrow.

He was mindful of the fact that the circle of life was never-ending, a circle within circles. Even the names of his people, certain plants, and animals of the Great Northern Plateaus were palindromes, making the circle complete.

But more than that, all life was a circle. The achuhca ate the sweet-berries and left droppings containing seeds. It also fertilized the young vines with its dung. The kahak fed on the achuhca, and Tavat and his family feasted on the kahak.

Everything in life is connected in some way, Tavat thought as he tracked the circling kahak. But then his mind wandered again. Ooloo would love it if I brought her some sweet-berries.

His thoughts always seemed to turn to Ooloo at the oddest times lately. He was more troubled about her than he realized. With difficulty, he brought his concentration back to the hunt and refocused all of his attention on the kahak, tracking it with his bow as it swooped down on its prey.

Tavat took a deep breath, but just as he exhaled and was about to release his arrow, something grabbed his leg and startled him, causing the arrow to go astray and miss the kahak. Tavat feared he had been attacked by a choke-vine or was about to be torn to shreds by a ferocious mountain gernreg or some other predator. Gernregs, with their sharp teeth and their wicked claws, were six-legged, sneaky, and deadly. Their black fur was coveted because they were so dangerous to hunt and difficult to kill.

Where are the warriors who are supposed to be protecting me from danger? he wondered.

There were certainly many dangers in the mountains of the plateaus besides gernregs. He wondered which one had grabbed him as the arrow he had just released barely grazed the kahak’s tail. The kahak squawked loudly, which caused the achuhca and his family to squeal in fright and scurry back down the hole to their den. So, the delicate connection in the circle of life had been broken by whatever had grabbed his leg, and it had happened in the blink of an eye.

Why are the warriors who are supposed to be guarding me laughing? he wondered and scowled at them. That just made them laugh all the more.

Tavat nervously looked down, and to his great relief saw his young granddaughter, Ooloo, gazing up at him with complete devotion and trust in her big, amber eyes. He did not think it was as funny as the warrior guarding him seemed to think, but he laughed anyway with joy and delight.

How did she sneak up on me so quietly? he wondered again. He scowled at the warriors again, but they turned away before they laughed this time.

Looking at Ooloo’s sweet face, he felt compelled to drop his bow and gather her up in his arms. He hugged her fiercely to his chest, making her squeal. She must have followed him out of the caves where his family and clan dwelled high above the river. He thanked W’Iniw, the Wind God of the Clans, that the kahak or something even more deadly had not focused its attention on his beloved, young granddaughter.

It was a wonder her little wings had carried her this far from the caves. Hadn’t her wings been only nubs a short while ago? Now here she was flying on her own and making all sorts of mischief for everyone in the clan. Her curiosity had gotten her into trouble more than once, and Tavat knew more trouble was likely yet to come.

Just the other turn she had put a bundle of flashroot in old Gunug’s cooking fire merely to see what would happen. Unfortunately, it was at the same time that Gunug had been bending over to stir his wife’s root stew. Gunug’s bushy white eyebrows were singed right off his face when the bundle ignited. He had run Ooloo off with a big stick, scowling, swearing, and bellowing at the top of his voice.

But Gunug had forgiven her when the contrite little winglet returned and offered to heal his face. After healing him, she had also offered, with complete sincerity, to paint some eyebrows on his face so he wouldn’t look so odd. Gunug thought the idea was completely ridiculous, but then he remembered something Ooloo had said a cycle earlier. She had told him matter-of-factly that his youngest son would safely return from hunting, bearing three fat kahak, and that Gunug would not have to eat his wife’s root stew for many moons.

Before the moons rose that turn, Gunug’s son and his friends returned with exactly three kahak, and they were no worse for wear. So Gunug had allowed Ooloo to paint eyebrows on his face whether it was ridiculous or not. No one had dared laugh at him as he was the Eldest of the Clan.

It was for her gifts, particularly the gift of seeing, that Ooloo’s precocious behavior was tolerated. Usually those of the clans were born with only one gift, and rarely was there one who had the gift of seeing. Not only was Ooloo strong in this gift but she was also apparently strong in all the known gifts.

She was already able to heal small wounds and create effective wards of protection. She had many other gifts besides, gifts never seen or heard of in the clans before. When she concentrated, she could hear or sense the thoughts of others. She was growing stronger in every gift with each passing turn. Could she be the Ans’Isna? Tavat feared that she was.

She was barely seven cycles old, yet she seemed far older and wiser than her few cycles. Very mature for her age, she was a prodigy the likes of which the clans had never seen. She would surely succeed Tavat as their clan leader and perhaps even become the Ema’Kame, leader of all the clans, when he passed through the veil.

It was also foretold that the Ans’Isna W’Iniw, Warrior of the Wind, would be an individual with great power and the gift of seeing. Tavat thought he would probably die long before an Ans’Isna was born and could be named by the clans.

The last one had been named five generations ago, during the time before the clans had come to dwell in the caves of the High Plateaus. No one had been named since.

But Ooloo had assured Tavat that one would be named long before he passed through the veil, and she had never been wrong in any of her pronouncements. Whether or not she was the one to be named remained to be seen. Tavat was torn between hoping Ooloo was the An’Isna W’Iniw and hoping she was not.

Tavat’s thoughts suddenly returned to the present. He had missed the kahak and was not looking forward to more root stew. He liked meat in his wife’s cooking pot.

With much disappointment, Tavat watched the kahak fly away over the mountaintop and was chagrined that he would not have another chance to kill it this turn. He frowned and considered killing several achuhca but discarded the idea once his thoughts returned to Ooloo.

Why could he not keep his thoughts under better control this turn? He knew exactly why—Ooloo. He hugged her again and kissed her smooth forehead and cheeks affectionately.

Now look what you did, Ooloo! You made me miss the kahak and now we will have to eat Naan’s root stew again, he said as he wrinkled his nose and scowled at her in mock disgust.

Oh, Paap, Ooloo said, as she placed her small brown hands on Tavat’s weathered cheeks and looked him in the eye. I like Naan’s stew, especially when there are water-hoppers to go with it! And you know how she complains when she has to pluck kahak. She says they stink like your old boots.

She does, does she? Tavat asked as he burst out laughing. He hugged her to himself again and breathed in the fragrance of her hair, which was dark and plaited into several beaded braids. He kissed her one last time on the top of her head and ruffled the glossy brown feathers on her back with his fingers before he set her down on the rock ledge. He wished he could always hold her close and protect her from their harsh life on the High Plateaus. He hated to release her, but he stood her on her feet beside him nonetheless and put his hands on his hips to look down at her seriously.

Well, in that case we will fly down to the river and catch some water-hoppers to go with Naan’s root stew, he said. At least Naan won’t have to skin those! We can roast them and eat them whole, wings and all. I spotted a large sweet-berry vine by the river as well. Remember, you must be watchful of the skies and your surroundings, and you must stay close beside me, Ooloo. Stay away from the achuhca hole. They may be no bigger than your head, but they bite. Do not wander out of the shallows into deeper water either.

Yes, of course, Paap. I will stay close to you and be watchful. Water-hoppers and sweet-berries! Won’t Kennek be jealous, Ooloo said excitedly. "I knew we would gather sweet-berries and catch water-hoppers this turn, I saw it, so I brought two bags to carry them back to the caves. One for the berries and one for the hoppers!" She held out the two rough-woven bags proudly.

She loved catching water-hoppers with her grandfather almost as much as when Naan let her help make sweet-berry fold-overs and eat the leftover sweet-berries. She didn’t even mind that she had to share them with her little brother, Kennek. He was still too young to fly down to the river. Ooloo would gather and eat all the sweet-berries she wanted. Paap never scolded her when she ate too many, but she knew a scolding was soon coming, and she was not looking forward to it. She hoped Paap was not too angry with her.

CHAPTER 2

SWEET-BERRIES

W e will have to talk about the fact that you flew out of the caves by yourself, Ooloo said Tavat. Your mother must be worried and angry that you flew after me alone. You know you must not go off on your own whenever you want. What if you got lost or something bad happened to you?

I am sorry, Paap. But I needed to tell you something, and there is not much time, she said. Besides, I could never get lost. I always know exactly where I am, and I can take care of myself!

Maybe you can take care of yourself, but you really should not worry your mother so. Your father thought he could take care of himself too, and now he has passed beyond the veil. His ashes have been joined with the ancestors’ ashes.

I know, Paap, but it is really important, said Ooloo.

What did you want to tell me, Ooloo? What could be so important that you could not wait until I returned to the caves? asked Tavat.

I just had to tell you that you must take me far away from here. I have to go to… school, she said as if the word was unfamiliar and strange.

School? What is a school? asked Tavat.

It is a place to learn many things, said Ooloo.

The clan teaches you everything you need to know, said Tavat. He hoped that settled it, but things were never that simple with Ooloo.It is not enough, Ooloo insisted, scowling sternly at her grandfather.

Not enough? What are you talking about? Ooloo, you are the smartest, most gifted winglet in all the clans. Other winglets your age cannot do half of what you can do. You were talking and flying far earlier than any other winglet! And you are very gifted, said Tavat.

But Paap… she said, trying to interrupt.

Besides, you are very special, and the clans need you. I will not live forever. You might one day become our clan leader or even Ema’Kame when the time comes. The feathers will be cast for you if you are worthy. You could even be the one named as the Ans’Isna W’Iniw.

I already know about all that, Paap, Ooloo said impatiently, but there are many things the clan cannot teach me! There is so much more I need to know.

What things, Ooloo? Where is this school anyway? he asked. Ooloo confidently raised her arm and pointed directly south.

That way, she said. As for what things they can teach me, I will not know until I learn them, of course. I believe there is much for me to learn there. I have to be prepared.

Prepared for what, Ooloo? There is nothing in that direction, said Tavat insistently. No one has ever crossed the ice fields or the southern mountains and lived to tell of it. No one knows for certain what is beyond that. We will have to consult the other clan leaders and the elders about this and…

Paap, I have to go, and you will take me! Ooloo demanded as she clinched her little hands into fists and stamped her foot stubbornly. "I must go to the school by the cliffs. I have seen it. And…and something else…I cannot see that yet, but it is very important. It will be revealed to me when it is time. For now, it is enough to know that I must journey to the school by the cliffs."

Tavat was unsettled by Ooloo’s outburst. What could she mean about being prepared? In his heart though, he knew that it would be as his granddaughter said. She would go to a school by some cliffs in a far-away land. He was filled with great fear and trepidation for his beloved little granddaughter.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. No one in the clans ever left the High Plateaus. They had no reason to go anywhere else. The clan was everything to the people of the High Plateaus. Now it seemed that he and Ooloo were leaving soon, and he wasn’t even sure why, except that his gifted granddaughter had seen it and insisted, no, demanded, that he take her away from the safety of the clans.

If you must go, then you must go, he said, coming to terms with the fact that his young granddaughter meant what she said. When must we leave? When must you be at this school by the cliffs?

We must be there by my eighth cycle, so we must leave in eight turns, Ooloo said. It will be a very long journey.

Only eight turns? That is not much time to prepare or to even gather enough supplies! Tavat said. How can we be ready to go in an octurn, Ooloo?

The clans will help us, Paap. Do not worry about gathering so many supplies, we can hunt along the way, and W’Iniw will supply everything else we need. We will need some warriors to go with us, though. There will be much danger on this journey.

What danger? Tavat asked, fear for his granddaughter once again threatening to overcome his resolve to take her away from the safety of the clans. What danger, Ooloo?

"I do not know, Paap. I have not seen that far. I just know it will not be an easy journey," she said.

She suddenly changed the subject as if she had not just made such a disturbing pronouncement. Tavat was beginning to have serious doubts about this journey.

I am hungry, Paap, she said. Oh, I forgot to mention the trees. Ooloo drew closer to the edge of the cliff and looked down at the river below. "I saw giant trees, three of them! I saw many people living in them. All the people live in giant trees where we are going. I have seen it."

She looked back at Tavat and changed the subject once more.

"Can we go catch the water-hoppers now? May I