Windwalker: Forbidden Flight Read online

  “Tifl!” a voice whispered loudly from behind. Oren nearly jumped out of his skin, and spun around. The footpath was empty. Seriously? Could more weird stuff please happen to me tonight?

  “Up here,” the disembodied voice called.

  “Are you…in a tree?” Who hides in a tree?

  The voice didn’t answer, but some of the branches moved, and the face of a dusk-aged man with wrinkles around his eyes peeked out between the leaves. He was mostly obscured by shadows.

  “There is not much time. You must leave New Arcadia,” he spoke with a calm urgency that sent shivers up Oren’s spine. “Tonight.”

  “What? Who are you?” Oren asked, backing up. He had spent his entire life in New Arcadia, and would spend the rest of it there too, as would every other human being as far as he knew.

  “Who I am is not important. Listen to me, something terrible is coming. If you do not leave now, it will be too late. They are coming for you and your family.”

  The blood drained from Oren’s face and he took another step backwards. “You’re insane. You better get out of here before I call the Wards.” His voice was shaking. After everything else that happened today, he was a hair’s breadth from fleeing in blind panic.

  Oren turned and ran for the front door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and glanced back to see branches moving in a tree further down the street. He rushed inside, closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, taking deep breaths.

  “Oren? Honey is that you?” his mother’s familiar voice called from the kitchen.

  “Yeah mom, it’s me.” He took one more breath, doing his best to regain his composure. A savory aroma wafted through the air, the kind that only comes from hours of slow roasted beef. He was so distracted by the day’s events that he hadn’t noticed how ravenous he’d become. Oren kicked off his shoes and walked in, relieved to be back in the familiar setting of his home.

  He stopped, noticing for the first time that the living room was full of people. They were standing around and seated on couches, snacking on vegetables and chatting with one another.

  The Ascension celebration! Everything else that happened that day fell away. Oren’s heart sank. This was the last time he would ever see Noni. Technically she was his double-great elder Magdalene, but he had always just called her Noni. She had lived nearly one-hundred and fifty years, and would soon be raised by the Ministry to pre-eminent status.

  Oren’s Noni sat in a large, padded, throne-like red chair, formally decorated with elaborate, embroidered antimacassars. It was raised on a small platform, up against the wall beneath a portrait of the Patriarch. Oren secretly hated the gaudy painting, and was glad his father only brought it out when company was over.

  His Noni had never looked so majestic. Her smooth skin and straight-backed posture belied a depth of years. She was specially dressed for the celebration, and her auburn hair, which was normally tucked up in a bun, cascaded down over her shoulders in thick, opulent waves.

  She slowly swirled a glass of red wine, looking across the room at Oren and smiling with sad eyes. “My dear Oren, come and sit with your Noni for a moment,” she called to him over the din. Oren maneuvered his way through the crowded room, smiling and trying not to bump anyone. He sat in a chair beside her. She placed a hand on his. “Sweet child, I can still see the sunrise on your face. Remind me, how many years since you arrived in this world?” Her voice was gentle and soothing.

  “Seventeen, Noni,” he answered.

  “Ah, eheu fugaces labuntur anni,” she said quietly to herself. Oren was used to her quoting poets and philosophers, but he’d never heard that one before.

  “What’s that mean, Noni?”

  “It means that I will miss you very much, little sunbeam.”

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “Are you…nervous? About the ceremony?” he asked with trepidation. It was strictly forbidden to criticize or question anything to do with Ascension.

  “I won’t lie to you child, it is not the easiest idea to adjust oneself to.” She took a sip of wine. “I will be fine, you needn’t worry yourself.” Oren felt her hand twitch.

  “I understand,” he said looking down. “I know you have to go, and that it’s supposed to be better…” Oren told himself he was going to be strong, and not cry. “I just wish it wasn’t so soon.”

  “You are not alone in that,” she said gently. “Listen, I have something important to tell you.” She leaned forward and beckoned him closer so that no one else would hear. “My time here is limited, little one, and there are some things you should know before I’m gone.” Oren looked up at her expectantly. “Your father is a good man. He controls his own destiny. Most other men believe what they want to, their lives shaped largely by their desires. They condemn what they do not understand, and destroy the reasons for living so that they may live. You must be different, Oren.”

  He looked into her blue-green eyes questioningly.

  “The coming winds bring small change, but great things come from small beginnings. Other things,” a hint of a smile crossed her lips, “collapse of their own weight.”

  Oren furrowed his brow, attempting to decipher the meaning behind her words.

  “You are still young, child, and have much to learn of the world. Do not take all you hear at face value, and do not value all you face without careful consideration.”

  Oren nodded, “Yes Noni.”

  “Good boy,” she said smiling fondly. She cupped his face in her hands. “Above all, remember that no matter how bad things get, you must not despair. We are capable of far more than you could ever imagine.” She looked for a moment at his face, then said, “Now be a good son and help your mother in the kitchen. She has many mouths to feed tonight.”

  “Yes Noni,” he repeated, standing up and making his way to the kitchen. He had a lot to think about, and spent much of the night trying to process it all. His chest ached fiercely at the thought of never seeing Noni again. He knew in his head that it was right for this to happen, but his heart was conflicted. He helped to clean up after all the guests had gone home, and when the end of the night finally came, he collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep still wearing his clothes.

  RECREANCE

  Book one of the Aeternum Chronicles

  Get it today on Amazon

  Acknowledgments

  My sincerest thanks to everyone who has been a part of this story. This includes my loving wife, Melanie, who provided invaluable insight into how a young woman would think and react. A huge thank you to Jane Tucker, for your brilliant suggestions, and masterful editing. Lastly, thanks to all of you for reading this book. Your support is what allows me to keep writing.

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