The Wind Lords

Prologue

The sun is shining brightly through the stained glass windows, making the colored pieces dance in the Temple of Light. I always admire that effect because the light is never the same. They add to the celebratory mood of this important day. The low rumble of hundreds of voices are heard as more people enter and take their seats in the newly finished pews. They are made of redwood and have leaf and sun chasing along the edges and are padded for comfort. The double doors they have come through are made of a white marble called Tinsing and are very heavy. There are eight men from House Nytel here, dressed in their finest tunics of red and gray silk. It is their honor to open and close the mighty double doors, their faces are alight with pride. There is a balcony on both sides with talented choirs singing their hymns. Young acolytes dressed in their formal robes finish last minute duties for the ceremony. When it is precisely midday and the bells begin to toll, the well-muscled men on both sides of the doors push them closed. The audience quiets to a few whispers as three figures emerge from the back room and walk toward the altar.

The first is a man of elderly status with a long white beard walking with the assistance of a staff. His green eyes are kindly and all loving. He has an aura of serenity and acceptance around him. I have happy memories of our many talks together. He is dressed in robes of green and silver, and on his head is a crown of laurel leaves that accentuate his slightly pointed ears. His holy symbol is a moon with an eagle in the center. This is Thorys, priest of the All-father,who is First among elves, and sustainer of Life. The religion of the All-father is still relatively new, having been introduced only a few generations previously.

The second is much younger with sun bronzed hair and skin. He is full of energy and enthusiasm for his first coming of age ceremony. He has taken the place of Tollen, who had gone to join the gods last summer. He is a well muscled youth who can be mistaken for a warrior until you notice his holy symbol, a bright flaming sun. He is dressed in robes of white and gold. On his brow he wears a golden circlet. This is Brother Perimous, priest of Helia who is goddess of the Sun and the Giver of Life. Helia's religion is the primary religion in this city. I remember Perimous as a nervous young man unsure of his actions. Today he shows more authority and maturity than his young years would admit.

The last is an elven woman, tall and regal, dressed in gray silk with unusually large eagle feathers, dyed in a beautiful manner, as trim around her neck. Her long silver hair is braided with laurel leaves and she also wears a band of gold on her brow. Her eyes are a rare violet color, even among her own kind, and very old with the things she has seen lifetimes ago. Her pointed ears remind all here that their blood is less pure, having been mixed over and over again in several generations with humans. The elven lady looks no older than some of the maidens who will be in this ceremony today. This is Jonquil, the Matchmaker, blessed by the Gods. She is representative of the gods' influence and blessing on this day. I have always admired her for her strength and courage. After all she did move us from our own home to live among these humans that only have a touch of the elven grace we both possess.

They take their places by the altar as rehearsed. Thorys is on the right, resting slightly on his staff patiently. He has experienced this ceremony many times before. Perimous is on the left, his nervous energy is unmistakable, his first real important ceremony weighing upon his conscience. Jonquil in the center looking out over the audience with a practiced ease, then to the choir in the balcony who finish their hymns. When things are satisfactory, she speaks:

"Let the children enter." She points to the doors. Her voice is musical, its tones are pure and sweet.

The four well-muscled men heave the doors open again and fourteen youths enter. This is our moment to shine, all of us have been rehearsing our movements to perfection. The audience turns to see the youths enter. We are wearing white hooded robes and look at no one, for we are still children. We all proceed slowly up the aisle and stop just before Jonquil. She waits until the doors creak shut again as she presides over the ceremony. She looks at no one but the youths before her, smiling at me in particular. her smile is like the sun rising, and it helps to quench some of my fears about today's events.

"Welcome to the first day of your adulthood. The decisions you make today will follow you ever after until the end of your days. Let anyone who is doubtful step away and wait another year." There was silence in the hall as Jonquil waits to see if any will leave. When no one does, she smiles and moves on.

"As everyone here is ready to take their next step, I will explain what you need to do. First, each of you are to choose a God today. You have had sixteen years of religious instruction and should know your mind well enough to make that choice. Second, you will tell me the profession you wish to apprentice to so that all know where your skills lie. And last, you will listen as I read the scroll and announce who your life-mate, if any, will be. Now, take your first step forward."

The youths approach one by one, and either move to the left or to the right to choose their deity, receive their holy symbol and a blessing. Then be crowned with laurel leaves or a band of gold. After that, they nervously approach Jonquil, who through no actions of her own, is an imposing figure that creates awe in some and fear in others. She listens as they tell her their chosen profession, then Jonquil hands them the tools of their trade, and watches them take their seats with a certain sense of pride.

Then it is my turn, I am the last in line. I approach the altar and my feet turn to the right and I look into Thorys's eyes and feel suddenly that I must kneel. When I do so, Thorys places the laurel leaves upon my head as he blesses me. Suddenly, the doors blow open with a loud bang. The men on the sides of the door scramble to avoid being hit as the wind pushes through and surrounds me, caressing my skin and playing in my hair as I feel the acceptance of the All-father around me. The audience stirs, Thorys smiles proudly, Perimous' eyes double, and Jonquil's reaction is hidden carefully in her well-schooled manner. The winds soon die down and the doors are closed again. I rise and walk toward Jonquil, I have mastered the bow and the art of its creation and will take pride in telling her my chosen profession will be a bowyer. She is the one person I have no fear of. She is my mother, she has listened to my hopes and dreams for a long time. She has given me inspiration and strength to be my own person. When I look at her, I could be looking into a mirror. We have the same silvery hair and violet eyes, the same graceful mannerisms. The only telling difference is our age. I look into her eyes and I know what I want to say, but the words I rehearsed earlier do not come out.

"My name is Chrysanthys Windseeker, I choose to be a Matchmaker" I pause a moment, wondering at what has come from my mouth. My mother smiles, as if she knew that was going to happen and hands me the Book of Names and a quill. She waits until I am seated to speak again, gesturing to the walls where several glyphs color the hall in age old descriptions of past glories done in the name of the gods.

"For more years than I can recount, the Gods have bestowed a favored few with the ability to see life matches between people. I have watched all of you grow and I have spent time with each of you, to better acquaint myself with you and let the divine powers make a decision. The scroll I have could contain your life-mate, though I will remind you that not every person finds a life-mate right at their Coming of Age ceremony. Sometimes it can take a long time, but there is always a match. I will read the scoll now, blessed be to all."

"Blessed be to all" The audience and adult initiates reply in unison.

Looking into the audience she addresses them for the first time. "The reading of the scroll applies to us all. I know many of you in the audience have no life-mates. I can only tell you that the gods have not abandoned you." She unrolls the scroll and begins to read off the names. Many are happy with the choices made for them, and parents in the audience smile and nod their approval at the matches. Those in the audience who have finally received their life-mate grin proudly.

There is a young man beside me, he is fidgeting impatiently with his robe tying and untying it as he waits for his moment. His is wearing the gray and red of House Nytel. When my mother finishes with the scroll, she asks if anyone has a grievance. The youth stands quickly as his moment has finally arrived and tries to form his words politely.

"Lady Jonquil, I believe you are mistaken with my life-mate."

Surprised murmurs ripple through the assembly. No one has ever refused a life-mate before. The youth continues.

"Although Ansilla Weaver is a strong alliance, I feel a better choice for me is Chrysanthys Windseeker." His smile makes me feel like he's a coiled snake. Rathim Nytel is a handsome man with his dark hair and muscular body. He just doesn't feel "right" to me though. My mother's eyes become like ice as her head turns to him, but her voice is still formal and polite.

"Rathim, my daughter is for no one present, perhaps you are the one mistaken." Rathim's face colors and his lips curl in a sneer. Just when Jonquil thinks he will cease his objections, he persists.

Other angry voices can be heard whispering to Rathim's family as Ansilla dissolves in tears. It is an embarrassment for her to be refused so openly, and with such an audience. She is my best friend, and I wish I could do something to help her.

"Is that the truth elf lady or the truth as you see it as a mother?" Rathim accuses, boldly staring her down.

"Your son goes to far!!" one man shouts, waving his fists at Rathim's family.

The audience stirs more, and whispers fly around the hall. The faintest bit of color spots my mother's cheeks. This is a grave insult to my mother to imply she altered the books.

"Rathim Victor Nytel, you spoke words of adulthood earlier, did you not?" She waits for his nod before she continues "Was I mistaken in my decision then, because your words sound like that of a child now, maybe you are not ready this year." Her words are clipped and the threat is clear. She could make him wait for adulthood another year. Rathim's fury radiates from him in waves as he takes his seat again. Dismissing him from her thoughts as he takes his proper seat again, my mother returns to closing the Coming of Age ceremony. He looks at me and smiles wickedly. I have a feeling he is not done yet, he's waiting again.

I feel chills now for he is confident of his next actions whatever they may be, and when my mother asks if any have dispute with the ceremony, Rathim stands and again repudiates Ansilla, and accuses my mother of withholding his intended life-mate. As I try to scoot away from him, he grabs my arm and yanks me to my feet. Then he drags me down the aisle toward the door as the room explodes with voices speaking at once. I could scarcely fight him, it was either walk with him or be dragged like a rag doll.

"Rathim, cease this foolishness and come back here." People are still pointing and yelling at each other, as my mother calls out to Rathim to stop his foolishness. My mother's voice could be heard in the din as she gives commands to bring the church under control.

Brother Perimous is following us as Rathim moves steadily, acknowledging no one as he nods to his doormen, who open the doors. As he drags me into the light, I can't see.....

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