Wind Whisperer - A Tale of Winds. Part 1

Wind Whisperer – A Tale of Winds.

Introduction.

Dear Guardian,

To you, who read of those who lived and perished before we came to be. Who read of old legends and heroes, this might seem yet just another story to read. A story that, like others, might teach us a thing or two, entertain us with tales of Love and Hatred, of Peace and War, of Nobility and Treachery. Inspire us to rise to the best of what we dream to be in our short lives…or the worst of what we can make in a tyrannical existence.

If you, my dear owl, read with purposes such as I described, then I apologize in advance for I have no such terms on my mind while quill hammers gently at these papers. Yet, if you see, read or imagine a difference for better in the words that I write, then I shall thank you; it is only then would I feel that my work on this tale shall not go in vain. After all, what legends truly are, if not stories we feel in our gizzards then, in time, come to believe in our hearts? What legends truly for, if not to make better owls of us.
But enough with the musings of an old owl now and lend an ear slit, or two, to this tale.


A Legend as Old as Any.

This legend is dated many centuries ago, probably before the time of King Hoole himself, more than a thousand years ago. Why, my good owl, do I seem as if not quite sure is because, at some point I shall mention later, the records of the lineage of this clan and its members were purposely destroyed so as to save the last "Hope", of whom I shall speak in pages to come.

Many of us know that the times of King Hoole were the times of nachtmagen; of hagsfiends and haggish owls as well. At that time of despair and suffering, a clan of owls emerged. Carried by the Winds, they flew across the northern kingdoms saving lives and souls alike that were destined to be saved. Many feared their "magen" and those owls encouraged this rumour so as to protect the veil of mystery surrounding them and their existence. But theirs was no magen…theirs was the Way of the Winds.


Flying with the Winds.

I smile now as I think of the questions I believe forming in your head, my dear reader. Questions you can't wait to throw at me to see if indeed I write of a true legend or an out-right lie. Explain, I will, and I shall start with the title I chose to write this cycle of legends under; Wind.

Winds, as a force of nature, are as ancient as time itself. It is with Winds that we, owls, fly our best; not in dead still air. Winds are a force that can be as devastating as to change the shape of Earth itself. Even its gentlest and warmest, the ones we owls so enjoy to fly within, can make trees as old as the Greet Tree itself bow in respect.

But Winds are not a tyrannical force, nor shall I describe or illustrate them in the form of a quick tempered god that demands tributes of respect every now and then, for it was at a time when those of evil dwelt and ruled kingdoms of the north that a clan of owls, of sensitive gizzards, hearts of compassion and reverence for life that far outstripped their own instincts of survival, heard the cries of pain and anguish from many that were oppressed by these tyrants.

I say "many" and not just because this clan of ours; "The Owls of Azure" as they were once called due to the strange shades of blue that coloured their eyes, instead of the accustomed yellow-colour one might expect of Snowys, flew the Winds in strange ways to aid all whom the Winds carried them to…be that an owl, polar bear, or even a puffin.
A Legacy of Winds.

Your next question, as I expect it to be, is to how had they achieved such a miracle? Why were they…"Gifted" with a sensitivity to the Winds?

If they, as I described them before, were of sensitive gizzards, compassionate hearts, and reverence for life so great they would face death to protect it, why, then, there are not many of us, Guardians of The Great Tree, with Winds at our ear slits?

To be truthful…I do not know! Was it something in their physical structure; a glitch that gave them strange blue eyes as well? Were they chosen by some mythical being to listen to the cries of others in the Winds? I do not know!

All that I do know of their legacy; a legacy that was passed through centuries from one generation to another, is "Peace". Not this fragile peace that we, creatures of flesh and blood, can offer; but that of a higher plane or level. Was it the peace of Glaumora, or did they find it in the Winds they embraced?

Well, I have yet to know of the peace of Glaumora, but peace within the Winds I have known ever since that day I left my parents hollow and took to the Winds.


Destiny.

What is "Peace"? What is it that defines and aids us in our quest for Peace?

Those who came to know me might actually laugh at my words for they know that I shall not stop at any war or battle to protect life. As for those who took the effort to know and see me for what I really am, they saw flickers of pain and regret in my eyes and whatever words they extracted from me. And so, a question might be asked; how come I claim to be a "Wind Whisperer"? How come I claim to have found peace?

Bear with me, my dear reader, as I try to explain, for it starts with what we, Wind Whisperers, do on this Earth: "saving lives and souls alike that are destined to be saved". It was always said that "Destiny" is what we make of our lives…that we live an entire life time until our destinies are revealed to us. So, what is all this talk of lives and souls that are destined to be saved?

I answer with: nothing. The only destiny, as I see it, is that Wind Whisperers have, and shall always be, thrown around by Winds in the path of whom they hear their cries of despair…and "hear" is not in the normal sense through our ear slits. It is neither magic nor do we listen, in a crude sense, to directions or words of any meaning in the Winds…but more like a quivering in our gizzards as if a tight grip of iron is crushing them until we find our quarry and reach out to help them.


If Only.

Should I lie and say that each that suffered found its aid in us…I only wish. After all, we are merely owls; not of extraordinary powers and abilities and, indeed, many were the times I was late, many were the times I failed to defeat a tyrant…and many more were the times I held a dying owl in my wings; humming ancient tunes to soothe a tearful pain in my gizzard…and send a dying owl to Glaumora.

But peace we must find if we are to uphold an oath as ancient as the oath we take as guardians and, simply as that, we take to the Winds to seek what warm breeze we might find there.

I can spend many pages of your time on philosophical reflections as to how we became the Winds but I do not believe that would be necessary for even I, a Whisperer of Winds, still ponder at this gift that I have. I find it strange, when one contemplate legends of the past, how an intelligent mind, if indeed mine was of intelligence, wanders away in its reflections, so I will cut these musings and, with your consent, take you back to our Owls of Azure.


Flying Through Hurricanes.

And so, to the Winds our owls listened, and though they took their oath; "to rise silently into the night…" Yet "silent" they were no more, for owls came to know of them and envied their so-called power…if only it stopped at envy.

You see, through the centuries, owls of my gift were brutally murdered and had their eyes removed from their skulls because many vile owls believed that the unnaturally-blue eyes gave them what they had. Of course, having blue eyes, or indeed any physical trait, never meant that one had the gift. Though many were slain for that vilest and crudest of theories, they still went on in their path and destiny.

In their wanderings, in the icy and natural canyons and crevices to the north of the Firth of Fangs, amazing structures were found that provided entrances through which Winds passed and intensified as if in a natural habitat and provided a natural hideout for them. They called it "The Palace of Winds" and all was well with our owls until the great war of the Ice Claws broke two centuries ago between the League of Kiel and the League of the Ice Talons.


A Whisper of End.

Though acknowledged for who and what they are and their purpose on this Earth, the aggressors and tyrants; the League of the Ice Talons that is, demanded that they join forces against the League of Kiel to the west and, naturally, the Owls of Azure refused; preferring to follow their fates through the Winds rather than cause destruction and pain and so, a treaty of peace was to be signed.

If one was to read the historical accounts of that era, one might argue the wisdom of such agreement since the owls of the Ice Talons League were known for their cowardly and treacherous ways which, in a way, was the main cause of this war. Yet, at such desperate times, one might find the need to resort to desperate measures and our owls, whose continued existence mattered as long as there are lives to save, never realized that the shouts of pain and anguish they heard in the Winds were soon to be theirs.

It was treachery, plain and simple, that, at the time the treat was being signed, legions from the League of the ice Talons attacked Palace of Winds and all the owls that lived in it.

I cannot think of any proper words to describe it except for: "Mass Murder". Yes, my good owl, for it was nothing less than that when the attacking units blocked every exit they found and killed ever owl within the palace, and the palace itself, no longer supported by its ancient pillars of honour and compassion that held it for centuries, collapsed; what with the cowardice, treachery, and blood that covered it's walls … taking with it every trace of Winds, and those who Whispered to the Winds.


To be continued in part two.‎
"The Last Hope"