Looking desperately up and down the trade road his hope was beginning to fade. His brother Daven had
ordered some of the guards back into the forest to search for her but chance was beginning to wane with
the light of day. Consoling himself with disbelief, that the whole event was some cruel joke played by
fate, he was forced to retire by request of his brother. Daven gave him one piece of advice as he tried
in vain to get to sleep.
‘Do you remember where I found her?’ he asked ‘she had lain there for days and she was untouched. There’s
something in her spirit that protects her from anything the wilderness can produce, she’ll be unharmed,
trust in what I say.’
Daven was first to speak, ‘So where did you get to my little stray?’
Mooneye answered, ‘I went to find my sister; I went to find my Dragon and I went to find hers also.’
There was a dreamlike quality in the way she said each word.
‘I wandered the woods to find them and there they were, waiting for me. They showed me Fortitude and
those before and beneath. They showed me the past and the possible futures. There is danger in this world
and it must not be ignored, it must be approached and we, my sister and I, have a part to play. We must
not ignore those before and beneath, great hazards will ensue to those that do.’
And with a second gasp she lapsed back into her frenzied sleep.
Staring concerned and unsure of the words that had just been spoken, Daven uttered his advice.
‘We had best get this little stray to Galore, and be quick about it too!’
She possessed a communication with both her sister and the dragons that could not be explained. It was almost as if their wills were conjoined, focused in the same direction. When any of them so wished to they could communicate regardless of the distance or the means. The effect that their meeting had on her relationship with her father and uncle had changed little. It was now as if her life was split between two things, the love of her relatives and the spiritual duty she felt toward the dragons and her sister.
When Mooneye had been strong enough to confront the revelation of her ties with Kite she had searched for some answer from her father and uncle. She was aware of some of her past, of a split somewhere between her and Kite but could she not locate the ‘place’ of it. It had been difficult to digest but both her father and uncle had told her of the time when she had been found, alone and crying in the wooded wilderness of the Redwing Empire. She also knew that Kite was a foundling, saved by her grandfather at the request of some undisclosed source. Kite’s grandfather had no more connection to her than Mooneye did with her own father. It had been their love that had raised both of them and although the shock that their true origins detached them from the stability of their relationship the bonds were too strong to be broken. Indeed Mooneye had grown closer to both her father and uncle since the event; her appreciation of their care and compassion in raising her had enforced this sense.
One more thing had been affected in the aftermath of the meeting, her study of magic. After the report of her abilities in healing the wounded guard her father had encouraged her to seek out more advice, more knowledge of the art. She had been able to find a teacher when her uncle had bought a new residence in Rigor. He had been amazed by Mooneye’s affinity with conjuring and spells; she could control virtually every item and scroll that he had given her to study. Her talent, however, was wild and unchecked but her teacher managed to give her focus and apply it in the correct directions. She was only now coming to understand this magical ‘fabric’ that underscored the very nature of Fortitude, any who knew of her talent had no doubt that she would one day prove to be a very powerful and great sorceress.
Heading to the window of her room to gaze over the buildings of Rigor she heard it; the same noise that had called her some five years before and had on occasion called her since. She could sense her sister somewhere far to the east, stood atop ramparts battling by use of her own talents. Although she knew Kite was a formidable fighter she knew that the situation needed aid, that the shouts of the dozens of enemy warriors echoing through the skies of some unnamed city would soon overcome those of its defenders if she were not helped.
Picking a scroll from the cabinet that housed her tutor’s collection she walked to the room’s opening and stared at the sky. Taking the scroll firmly in her hand she flung it into the air, spinning it over the rooftops of Rigor. As it flew into the blue above a screech appeared from behind, a great airborne shape appeared from nowhere and caught the scroll in its talons disappearing as quickly as it had emerged.