Vistus: Storm Queen

Dear Journal,

The first day at the Academy was not as bad as I thought it would be.

Everyone was nice to me despite me not fitting in at all. They were all so muscular and large, I felt like a dormouse in comparison.

I am absolutely exhausted from all the unfamiliarity, however. There is no one I know here, and I am far from home.

I cannot say I look forward to starting lessons tomorrow, but actually being here and seeing my classmates and teachers has put my mind at ease slightly.

I will have to stop writing here. I cannot keep my eyes open.

-

“I am questioning your competence, Mr. Salas.”

A deep voice echoed from the crystal ball sat on the desk, a jackal-man’s frustrated visage flickering within the ball.

“Understandably,” replied the white wolf sat at the desk in a smooth, quiet tone, “but I can assure you, I intend to rectify the situation at the earliest opportunity.”

“That’s just office talk for ‘I can’t do it yet’, and you know it,” the jackal said.

“I wasn’t aware we were allowed to be informal here.” Fericeus raised an eyebrow. “Would you like me to lapse into slang? Might make these things a little more interesting.”

The jackal growled. “Remember your place, Salas. You…” He paused, his sharp features contorting into a frown as his image in the ball continued to waver. “Are you interfering with the signal?”

“Not at all,” Fericeus replied, the hand hidden behind his back ceasing its twirling as the magic circling his fingers fizzled out.

The jackal’s image in the crystal ball finally stopped flickering. Purely coincidentally. He gave Fericeus a flat look, and continued, “Is this all some kind of joke to you? People died, Fericeus. Their blood is on your hands because you refused to report her as a potential risk!”

“There is no excuse for that, I’ll admit,” said Fericeus, the words like thorns in his throat. He could barely admit to himself what had happened at Greenglade. At the time, he genuinely did not want to believe that Lorelei would make good on her threat against the village. He’d let his personal feelings cloud his judgement, and the Greengladers suffered for it. “But this is very much not a joke to me. I am doing my best to track her--”

“Then show it. Are you aware how long it’s been since we assigned you this task? This wench isn’t an illusionist. Unless she’s dead and buried with the abominations she summons, she is currently loose on Vistus and could be doing Vacerus knows what while we waste time running around like headless chickens looking for her!”

“If she was doing anything truly noteworthy, we’d have found her by now,” Fericeus replied, refusing to let the jackal’s anger sway him. “I am giving this task my all, sir, you have my word on that. But she is clever. She knows how to hide.”

“I don’t want to hear excuses. We need results soon, Fericeus, or we will have to start questioning your position within the Peacekeepers.”

This isn’t even my job, Fericeus thought, the words stinging him more than he would care to admit, and not for the first time a twinge of panic ran through him. Even if I am the best suited for it… “I will get you results, I assure you,” he said, his face a steely mask.

“You better have good news the next time we call. Good day, Salas.”

“Good day, Magnus.”

The image faded from the crystal ball, leaving Fericeus slumped over on the table, his long turquoise hair spilling onto the messy paper-strewn desk. He groaned. 

That could’ve gone better.

He was well aware Lorelei was still missing. He was also well aware it had been four months since he was tasked with finding her. While he shared the Peacekeepers’ desire to find her, he wished they could be less aggressive about it. Specifically, not getting on his case every few days for his lack of success. Vacerus, if he had not found Lorelei the day before, what made them think he would suddenly catch her a day later? Not even he could work miracles. He wished he could go back to researching mana points. At least those would be easier to find than her.

Fericeus sat back on his plush velvet chair, sinking into its softness. He idly scanned his dark study, a hint of light peeking through the wine red curtains being the only illumination in the book-laden room. With his head pounding, he could not stand even the thought of brightness. Terros, he couldn’t even look at a book right now.

The smell of baking wafted through the cracks of the closed door, blending with the earthy scent of books. Fericeus hummed thoughtfully, the sweet scent prompting him to sit upright. He supposed Kiyake was baking again. She had been doing that a lot lately. She had been picking up new recipes from the Net almost daily and trying them out. Fericeus inhaled deeply, his wolfish nose picking up hints of cinnamon and ginger. Cookies, he supposed. Interesting ones, likely spicy given Kiyake’s ingredients of choice.

He should see how she was doing, but that required getting up. 

Oh, how the mighty have fallen… Fericeus thought with disgust. Lethargy was not his thing, and never had been, but he'd been putting in many late nights for months and whenever he did try to rest, that annoying voice in his head told him that time could be better spent tracking Lorelei. 

A knock on his door served a thankful distraction. “Come in,” he called.

The pale tan head of a cat-girl poked through the door. “How'd it go?” Kiyake asked, nudging the door open with her body, holding a tray of ginger cookies.

Fericeus flicked his finger and a tendril of Dark magic helped fully open the door. “As well as you would expect,” he replied, wincing as the light from the hallway flooded his room.

“Don't listen to Magnus, he's just got a massive stick up his butt.” Kiyake gestured for Fericeus to clear his desk, and he neatly filed the papers and miscellaneous crystals away for her to put the tray down. The cookies all had crude smileys of various animals drawn on them with icing. “I come bearing gifts!”

“He threatened to fire me.”

Kiyake put a paw to her chin, humming to herself before shaking her head. “But he won’t!” she declared with such certainty that it was as though she held Fericeus’s fate in her hands. “He knows you’re a valuable asset to the company. He would be silly to fire you.”

Fericeus smiled. He wished he could share Kiyake’s belief, but her assurance was enough to raise his spirits at least a bit.

“Ah, yay, phase one of mission cheer-Feri-up is a success!” Kiyake grinned. “Now, try the cookies!”

“Are those phase two?” Fericeus asked, taking a cookie with a wolf face on it and biting into it. The taste of ginger filled his mouth, along with a hint of cocoa and cinnamon. “Oh, these are good.”

“Yay, that's great! Another recipe I can add to the list!” Kiyake's tail wagged like an excited dog’s and she took a cookie for herself. “Hmm, gingery.”

Fericeus ate slowly. He was grateful to Kiyake for trying to distract him, but his mind still wandered back to Lorelei. 

”I didn’t mean it, and yet you took me seriously.”

His mind pulled him back to the fight on the edge of Greenglade, Lorelei’s armour glinting in the sun, her hands bathed in Dark magic, that same glint in her eye that he’d seen many years ago and ignored. 

“So seriously in fact, that you abandoned me. Left me at my most vulnerable. You weren’t a good friend, Fericeus.”

It wasn’t his fault she’d turned out that way. It had been up to her to change; him being her friend made no difference. A bruised apple cannot be salvaged if its core is already rotten.

What scared him most of all, however, was not the part he played in this. It was the sheer power he felt emanating from Lorelei in waves, his senses overcome by the strength of her magical presence. Never had he imagined that the tiny sparks of magic he’d sensed as a child would grow to choke him. 

He flashed back to Lorelei’s burst of magic burning his body from the inside. In a moment of weakness, he had endured a fatal blow. The only reason he had survived was because healers had been close by. His lapse never should have happened. He hadn’t even been able to take down Lorelei on his own and she had almost killed him.

Simply put, he was weak.

“Hey, hey, I know that face, that's your zoning out face. Come back to me!” Kiyake clicked her fingers, producing a spark of light. “This is really getting to you, isn't it?”

“Yes.” Fericeus knew he had a tendency to fixate on things, but this was the first time his skills and position at the Peacekeepers had been called into question, and the pressure was starting to pile up. “No matter where I look, I can’t trace her.”

“Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong places?” Kiyake said, waving her arms to emphasise her cryptic tone.

Fericeus raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Okay, I’ll bite. Where should I be looking?”

“That is up to you to figure out.” Kiyake nodded sagely and gave Fericeus a pat on the shoulder, only possible because he was sitting down and she was standing up.

“Do you really have an answer or are you just having fun pretending to be me?”

Kiyake closed her eyes, tilting her head upwards ever so slightly. “Again, the answer lies within you to figure out.”

Fericeus nodded. “Right, yes, of course,” he replied. Did he really sound like that to people?

Kiayke giggled, breaking her act. “Come with me for a sec. You could use a break.” She took the tray back and hopped out of the room, humming melodiously to herself.

Fericeus didn’t feel much like leaving his desk, but he had to admit Kiyake was right. As much as he wanted to get back to work, there was little he could accomplish in his current tired state.

Kiyake led him through the vast hallway of his spacious house, taking him to the living room. The television was shut off, the console beneath it neatly cleared away. A purple cover was draped over the couch, giving it an extra layer of comfort. Kiyake gestured for Fericeus to sit on the couch, and he complied, already figuring out what she was going to do. She closed the purple curtains, preventing the outside light from peeking through. Without her asking, because Fericeus knew she would, he clicked his fingers and a flicker of magic switched off the lights, cloaking everything in darkness. 

“Aw, don’t tell me you already know what’s gonna happen,” Kiyake said, her tail drooping. “That takes the fun out of it for me.”

Fericeus’s eyes did not take long to adjust to the gloom, seeing Kiyake’s silhouette folding her arms. “I know all,” he replied with a smirk. “Nothing you do will surprise me.”

“Oh yeah? What about this!” Kiyake threw her arm up and a ball of light exploded from her palm like a firework, lighting up the room pink before it winked out.

Fericeus blinked. “I didn’t expect it to be pink.”

“Ah-hah!” Kiyake pumped her fist. “Betcha thought I was gonna go for yellow, but that’s so generic.” She clicked her tongue. “You really should know better, Feri.”

“You’re right, I should.” Like I should have known about Lorelei. Fericeus scowled inwardly at the sudden thought, rolling his eyes at himself. Okay, seriously, that’s enough now. Kiyake is trying her best to take your mind off this.

Truly, he was grateful to his assistant for helping him with both his work and his life. It wasn’t fair to call her just an assistant at this point. As he watched her raising her hands up and waving them in hypnotic motions, ribbons of light streaming from her palms, a wave of affection washed over him. This young girl trying so hard to cheer him up wasn’t a mere colleague; she was his family. Not by blood, but by bond.

Kiyake continued her motions, each flick of her wrist sending stars up to the ceiling to paint a night sky. A qilin constellation here, a crescent moon there. The room was bathed in the silver light of the stars, a blanket of silence falling over it. It was as though time had stopped.

He had seen this before, but that did not stop Fericeus’s breath from catching in his throat. Pride at Kiyake’s magic swelled in his chest, overcome by the beauty of the night sky around him. For once, he did not think. He simply watched.

A train on tracks of starlight drove past him, silently whistling. Small starburst wyverns circled him, leaving rivers of stardust in their wake. Fericeus was tempted to reach out, but his arm rested at his side, transfixed by the night’s calming spell.

“Feri…” Kiyake’s normally high-pitched voice was quiet and subdued, blending with the peaceful atmosphere. “Why do you use magic?”

Fericeus hummed quietly, watching a twinkling star. Kiyake didn’t want the simple answer: because I have it. No, all those with mana flowing through them had magic. It was like a skill, like drawing; just because people had the potential to draw didn’t mean they would. “Because I want to hone my talents,” he replied.

Kiyake sat down beside Fericeus, content to watch the light show. “That’s a good reason, and so like you. You’ve got to be the best at everything, right?”

Fericeus smiled, a star shooting past his vision. “Perhaps. But magic is my life. I was raised to embrace it. I may have left Greenglade, but it will never leave me.”

Kiyake glanced at him, her expression unreadable even to Fericeus. “Makes sense.”

Fericeus was content to watch the night, letting it wash over him. His mind dulled as he took in Kiyake’s illusion, giving him a pleasant fuzziness that prevented complex thought. He let silence hang in the air before he continued the conversation, half-aware of Kiyake’s implication, but in no state to act on it.

“What about you, then?” he asked softly, eager to shift the conversation away from him. “Why do you use magic?”

Kiyake gave a small smile, a strange sight from the girl whose grins often reached her eyes. “After I left my parents, and started going to readings with you… I saw how excited the kids got whenever I’d cast an illusion. They appreciated my magic! I thought that was so cool. ‘Cos my parents didn’t even notice.”

Fericeus nodded.

“I think I really figured it out that one time Lae visited, when she was feeling super lonely. You remember that?”

“Yes, right after she had to say goodbye to her partner after one of their meetups, if I recall.”

Fericeus was glad Laerya now had permanent travelling companions; he had suspected solo adventuring was not really for her. He hoped they were doing well. They did not deserve to get mixed up in his business with Lorelei. 

“Anyway, I cast that dragon illusion spell to take her mind off it… and even though it was real bad because I couldn’t project dragons properly, she was really into it.” Kiyake giggled. “She was so happy. That was when it clicked.”

Fericeus’s eyes followed a starburst wyvern circling the sky. “Your story is a lot longer than mine. Maybe I should go again.”

Kiyake barely held back a snort. “I guess I’ve just been thinking about it for a while. Anyway…” she rubbed her head. “Yeah. Basically, if my magic can make a person happy... that’s a good enough reason to use it.”

Fericeus wasn’t really surprised, but felt a warmth in his heart for Kiyake. She did not physically hold the title of ‘sister’, but he considered her to be his all the same. He patted her head, feeling her fluffy curls. “Very noble,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”

“Oh, thanks, dad,” said Kiyake, waving Fericeus’s hand away from her hair.

Fericeus smirked, looking once more at the night scene conjured by Kiyake. He had not felt this peaceful in a while. He was sure he would go back to agonising over Lorelei and the Peacekeepers once the illusion wore off, but for now he was content.  “You did well. Thanks for cheering me up.”

The cat-girl beamed, her tail wagging. “Glad I could help.”

-

As Fericeus settled into bed, mostly lulled by Kiyake’s illusion, he reached for the thick book sitting on his nightstand. He paused, Kiyake’s earlier words piercing through the comforting haze in his mind.

”Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong places?”

He took the heavy book, his fingers tracing over the cover titled Tales of the High Dragons. He’d been reading it lately to take his mind off his problems before sleeping, but…

He had already established he was now evenly matched with Lorelei, perhaps even behind her in strength. He was weak. If he had even a chance of standing up to her again in their next encounter and getting rid of her for good, he should take it. What else could he do?

He knew the drawbacks. He knew what he was thinking was impossible. But he had to try. He would deal with the consequences if it meant putting a stop to Lorelei and getting back on top at the Peacekeepers. He could keep his job, get rid of his enemy, and maybe even become something greater. Someone who would be unmatched, unstoppable. Lorelei and her ilk would never be a problem again.

It was all hypothetical, of course. There was no way this could actually work. Nevertheless, it was comforting to think about, and would make good bedtime reading.

Fericeus opened the book and flipped to the page titled The Tale of the Storm Queen.

-

Many years ago, the High Dragon of windstorms walked the lands and ravaged them in her wake. She called herself Tempestas.

Her powers were vast and her temperament whimsical. With one flap of her wings came winds that ripped houses from their foundations and uprooted the sturdiest trees. A whisper of her icey breath was enough to freeze rivers. From her horns struck forth arcs of lightning with deadly accuracy. She was an unstoppable force, but as days, months, and years passed, she grew tired of her storms.

One day Tempestas looked upon the frozen remains of a village that had felt her wrath and sighed with regret, and with that one exhalation, froze the last living villager forever. She cared not for Vistians, yet remorse filled her heart. What purpose did so much destruction serve? She vowed then to keep her powers in check, and to hide herself away so that none may awaken the storms within her.

“I will no longer use my powers indiscriminately, for it fills my heart with sorrow,” she declared to the frigid wasteland, “yet anyone foolish enough to continue down my path will be punished for their selfishness.”

From those words came a spell that would haunt the High Dragon for the rest of her life.

In that moment, nature bestowed upon her a curse for her years of destruction. “Should you no longer desire your powers, you may pass them on to the next,” the sky whispered, “and only then may you also pass.” The spell rippled through the earth, the sea, and the sky, so all may hear of Tempestas and her fate.

The High Dragon wanted nothing more than peace, but Vistians did not give it. When knowledge of her inheritable power reached their ears, they slaughtered each other in order to obtain it. Those that managed to find her came to her as broken souls, their hearts corrupted by their lust for power.

Tempestas, refusing to give up her life or her strength for such selfish ambition, challenged them for their desire. She gave to them a condition, one that every challenger faced in order to obtain what they so craved, and echoed her first vow:

“I will challenge you to a duel to judge your worth. Should you pass, I will bestow upon you my gift. Should you fail, I will rend asunder your livelihood until my storm’s hunger is sated.”

Every challenger lost her duel of strength, and as punishment, she unleashed her storms upon their homes. They would come back to find their houses destroyed, crops withered, family dead. The price, they declared in agony, had been too high to pay.

As years passed, people learned not to engage in the merciless dragon’s duel. The Storm Queen still rests within the depths of the land, sleeping peacefully with the knowledge that none dare wake her.

Her story teaches us not to strive for power beyond our natural limits, and to cultivate our own strength.