A Storm

"A grand festival in the name of Atherion is to take place, one that will transform the entire capital into a harbor of joy and fun. Rasha'alor will announce her vision during the festival and usher in a new era for Zephyria," Baako proclaimed loudly, ensuring every villager could hear him. When he reached the end of the parchment, he turned it over so everyone could see and recognize the queen's seal.

"That's all," he concluded.

A loud murmur broke out, growing louder. Some villagers let out shouts of joy, while others were already worried about what to wear to the festival. Some even started speculating about the visions.

Kael was no different. His legs began to tremble, and a feeling surged within him. He touched his cheeks and realized he was smiling.

"A festival!" he thought with sheer delight, barely able to contain his excitement. The only reason he did not join in the joyous shouts was that he didn't want to look foolish.

Despite the messenger's recent arrival, Kael felt the anticipation like a child. Village life was often more boring than one might think, especially for Kael, who had no formal education and spent most of his days doing nothing until his mother and sister returned home.

He knew every dune around the village, every hidden corner within it, and had tried everything possible. But after a while, it all became mundane. A festival in the capital was something to look forward to!

But there was also another feeling—a darker one.

"A vision…" he muttered to himself.

Nothing good ever came from visions in his experience.

Everyone in the village had their own opinion, and it wasn't long before the messenger was overwhelmed with questions and comments.

"What is this vision?" "Does 'every able-bodied person' mean it's mandatory?" "How long will the festival last?" "Will there be cake?"

The villagers shouted their questions, but the messenger initially didn't try to answer them. It was impossible. Instead, he lifted his foot and in a show of force, he stamped it on the ground.

When he did, the earth under Kael's suddenly feet vibrated as it had when Talak tunneled through the desert. But this time, it was a single, powerful tremor that almost made Kael lose his footing.

Kael's eyes widened. The messenger was a Binder.

With just a gesture of his power, the Binder had restored order to the chaotic village square. No one dared to show disrespect in front of a Binder, especially not one wearing the royal emblems.

"I will answer your questions as best I can," Baako Orahid declared, "but I cannot do everything at once. Those who have questions, please come forward and ask them in front of everyone."

At first, no one moved. It was a smart move by Baako, Kael thought. The man was powerful, and he knew the effect his power had on others—awe and respect. If anyone dared ask a question, it would certainly not be a foolish one.

The first to break from the crowd was an older man Kael had often seen at the market, though he didn't know his name.

"Hadhir, I have a question," the elder began, addressing the younger man with a title of respect, which he didn't have to use but probably did out of sheer respect for the Binder.

The messenger nodded, prompting the elder to speak.

"What kind of preparations should we make for the festival? What exactly is expected of us when we arrive in the capital?" The elder's expression was one of concern but also curiosity.

Baako Orahid nodded understandingly and replied calmly, "Good question, Hadhir. Everyone should be prepared to stay for at least a week. There will be accommodations, but be prepared for it to be crowded, as many people from all corners of Zephyria are expected. Bring clothing for various occasions, including formal attire for the ceremony where Rasha'alor will speak."

He paused briefly, letting his gaze sweep across the crowd, then continued, "Furthermore, everyone is expected to bring a gift for Atherion, something that expresses your gratitude and respect. It could be something handmade, something of personal significance, or something that represents your skills and craftsmanship. These gifts will be presented to Atherion in a grand ceremony."

The crowd murmured in agreement, some nodding, others whispering amongst themselves about potential gifts.

A young girl stepped forward boldly. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, "And what about the children? Are there special events for us?"

Baako smiled warmly and responded, "Yes, young lady. There will be special events for children and youth. There will be games, lessons about the history and culture of Zephyria, and even competitions where you can demonstrate your skills. There will also be a special ceremony for the younger participants to receive Atherion's blessing."

The children in the audience brightened up. The prospect of games and competitions sparked noticeable excitement. Kael felt a bit excited too, but mostly he was looking forward to attending the festival with his family.

Baako's expression grew more serious as he added one final comment, "Let us not forget that this festival is not only a time for joy and celebration. It is also a time when we renew our allegiance and faith in Atherion and our queen. It is a time when we come together as a people, strong and unwavering."

With those words, he rolled up the parchment and tucked it back into his horse's saddlebag. He then nodded to the crowd, mounted his horse, and prepared to leave.

However, as the messenger was about to ride away on his horse, a sudden voice echoed across the village square, making him pause. Kael recognized the voice immediately.

Surprised, he turned around and saw his mother and sister standing at the edge of the square. They were not supposed to be home yet, he thought. The two women were dressed in black Sundara robes, adorned with a distinct white circle on the chest, surrounded by fine, artfully crafted decorations—the symbol of the Al'Shalin.

As the messenger recognized the two Al'Shalin, he promptly dismounted and bowed slightly, as was due to the priestesses of Atherion. Even a Binder must show respect to the priestesses of Atherion.

"Al'Shalin. It is a pleasure to meet you here. May Atherion's blessing be with you," he said, his voice conveying awe and respect.

Lyla Adar, whose facial features retained a trace of skepticism despite the warm greeting, responded to the messenger in a tone that was equally respectful yet noticeably more restrained.

"Thank you, Baako Orahid, but my daughter is not yet a full Al'Shalin. Nevertheless, we would also like to know more about the festival." Her words were carefully chosen, her posture proud, but her eyes held an unmistakable vigilance.

Kael knew this manner of speaking from his mother. She was skeptical about the whole affair, and the messenger seemed to sense this too in her sharp gaze, as his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Anything I can do for you, esteemed Al'Shalin," he said slowly but cautiously.

Lyla Adar nodded and then spoke with a firm voice that underscored her authority: "If Rasha'alor has received a vision, how is it that the Order has not been informed? Excuse my doubts, but we are usually the first point of contact when it concerns our Lord."

Kael furrowed his brow. This was indeed strange. The conversation took a turn that even seemed to surprise the experienced messenger. He cleared his throat before responding, his gaze briefly shifting to his horse and then back to the two priestesses as if to ensure his next words were carefully chosen.

"Esteemed Al'Shalin," he began again, his voice revealing a hint of discomfort, "it is true that such visions usually go through your Order first. However, this time it was the desire of Queen Soraya to announce the message directly and personally. I am not privy to the reasons for this."

He paused for a moment, looking into the expectant faces of the villagers, then continued. "Rasha'alor wants all citizens of Zephyria to understand and feel the importance of this message simultaneously, directly from the lips of their queen."

Lyla Adar nodded slowly, her expression still inscrutable. "I understand. Nonetheless, it remains our duty to remain vigilant and ensure that this vision truly reflects Atherion's will."

Her voice was firm, a gentle reminder that her faith and duties extended beyond the political intentions of the queen. Queen Soraya was beloved by all, but an Al'Shalin's allegiance was first and foremost to Atherion.

Baako nodded respectfully, seemingly glad to have overcome the situation. "Of course, Al'Shalin. I will convey your concerns to the queen. It is our collective wish that this festival be a symbol of blessing, not division."

Kael watched the exchange between his mother and the messenger with growing interest. He had rarely seen his mother in her official role as Al'Shalin, and he was impressed by how calmly yet firmly she defended her authority and faith.

He edged his way through the crowd and then stood next to his mother. "Mother, do you think there could be trouble?" Kael whispered as the messenger mounted his horse, ready to continue his journey.

Lyla wrapped her arm around Kael and gently pulled him close. "I don't know, my son. Atherion's plans can never be fully understood. But we must do our best to protect and preserve his teachings." Her words were comforting, yet there was a concern in her eyes that Kael rarely saw.

"A festival for all of Zephyria hasn't been held in decades. That means something is about to change. Something big. And with changes, one must always be cautious," she added.

As Baako Orahid rode away, the tall man called back over his shoulder: "Do not forget, dear citizens of Zephyria, the festival is upon us! Let us all come together in joy and community." With these words, he spurred his horse and disappeared into a cloud of dust.

The other villagers watched him leave, each with their own thoughts and feelings about the upcoming events. Despite the anticipation and the promises of the festival, there was a tension in the air that was unmistakable.

Kael, however, had other plans than staying in the village square. He quickly broke away from his mother and sprinted off. His heart started to pound loudly in his chest as he aimed for a narrow gap in the crowd. With agile movements, he weaved through the villagers, who were still transfixed on the departing messenger and processing the new information.

Once he had left the center of the square behind, Kael spotted a ladder leaning against the side of a house. He swiftly climbed it, his feet securely finding the rungs. Once at the top, he sprinted across the flat roofs of the lined-up houses. The eternal flame shone brightly, illuminating his path as he leapt from one roof to the next, the air around him shimmering with heat.

Though Kael felt great excitement for the festival, he was gripped by a premonition that wouldn't leave him. The mention of a vision by Baako had struck a chord in him, making him restless.

He couldn't forget the words of the mysterious voice he had heard not long ago. That voice had also spoken of visions, of future events that could have devastating consequences. Kael began to fear that these two visions—the voice's and the Sun Queen's—might be connected.

If that were the case, then what was happening in Zephyria could have implications far beyond local or traditional significance. Kael needed to find out what it was about.

Finally, he jumped from the rooftops down onto a larger mound of sand, rolled to absorb the impact, and continued his run without missing a beat. He vaulted over a wooden fence with a fluid motion that briefly left him hanging in the air before landing safely on the other side.

Kael knew exactly which route the messenger would take, and his calculation proved correct. As he rounded a corner, he was nearly run down by a horse. He stumbled backward and fell into the sand, while the horse shied and nearly threw the messenger off.

"Damn, boy, have you lost your mind?!" Baako scolded, struggling to maintain his seat in the saddle. His expression was unmistakably angry.

Then, recognizing Kael, his expression shifted from anger to surprise. "I saw you back in the square. How on earth did you get here?"

As Kael got up, he shrugged, panting from the effort. "I ran," he replied briefly.

Baako shook his head in disbelief. "You… ran," he repeated, preparing to ride on. However, Kael stopped him.

He grabbed Baako's arm as he adjusted himself in the saddle. "Wait! I need to know more. Please."

Baako looked irritably at the boy's hand on his arm, then into Kael's earnest face. "Why should I tell you? What does it mean to you?"

"It's important," Kael replied with a tone of urgency that brooked no argument. "I've heard of visions too... of changes. I need to understand what's coming."

The messenger stared at Kael for a few seconds, his gaze sharp and assessing. "And why do you think you need to know more? Are you a scholar, perhaps?"

Kael shook his head. "No, nothing like that. But it could be important for my family... for the Al'Shalin."

"The Al'Shalin?" Baako repeated, his eyebrows raising in recognizable interest. "Do you know the Al'Shalin from earlier?"

"My mother," Kael said, and the messenger blinked in surprise.

"Lyla Adar," Kael added, and the name seemed to visibly affect the messenger.

"So that was Lyla Adar, of course. That explains a lot. If you are her son..." He paused, then sighed as though acting against his better judgment.

"Alright, I'll tell you what I can. But you must promise me that you'll speak well of me to your mother. Relations between the royal house and the Al'Shalin are always delicate. Maybe your mother can pull a few strings."

Kael nodded quickly, relieved that his connection to the Al'Shalin had convinced the messenger. "I promise. She will know you were cooperative."

Baako nodded, then leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper, as if he feared even the desert winds might be listening.

"Queen Soraya has received a prophecy from Sirocco. It was not good... It speaks of a great darkness. Of a storm that will move more than just sand."

Kael swallowed. This sounded all too similar to the words he had heard that night.

"A storm..."

"Yes, a storm," Baako confirmed. "And that's why the festival. It's more than just a festival; it's a gathering, a preparation. Everyone must come because everyone is needed."

With that, he straightened up in the saddle. "Make sure you keep your word, young Adar."

Kael nodded quickly, and as the messenger assured himself of the boy's honesty, he rode off into the desert. Kael watched him go, repeating the words.

"A great darkness…"