The Nian Chronicles
Chapter Three

Zabor looked back at Alaene huddled on the ground. His heart broke as he contemplated the pain he had caused his old friend. It had been the only way he could think of to end their relationship without prolonging the goodbye, but he felt horrible for doing it.

“Forget her,” Nadia muttered as Zabor lagged behind his new friends. “She’s not one of us. She could never be one of us. She’s too stubborn to see life beyond how she was taught it should be.”

Nadia settled onto a large rock vaguely shaped like a chair, and the others milled around her. All had been eager to break ties with the Dancers, but none seemed willing to challenge their leader.

“So, if we’re setting up our own rules, who’s in charge?” he asked what no one else wanted to.

Nadia tossed her head. “Me, of course.”

Ardena frowned. “Well, shouldn’t we vote or something?”

Nadia scowled, her face turning ferocious. “We all know I’m the best person to lead.”

Saren crossed his arms and shuffled his feet. “But what if the rest of the colony protest? Shouldn’t we at least ask them?”

Nadia glanced around, turning pink. “If you insist. Call everyone.”

When the new villagers had been collected, Nadia stood on her rock. “If we’re going to be our own village, we need a leader. Ardena and Saren want to call a vote. I nominate myself. Anyone else do the same, or nominate someone of your choice.”

No one offered a nomination for themselves or another.

Reluctantly Ardena stepped forward. “All in favor of Nadia as Governor, raise your hand!”

No one refused.

“Good,” Nadia praised. “Now I name my council. Saren is Commander, Ardena is Head Commissioner, and Zabor is Minister of Foreign Affairs. As Governor, I hereby authorize you to carry out your commission.”

They glanced at each other. “You know,” Saren urged, “I don’t know that I’m experienced enough to be in charge of guards. And . . . why do we need guards?”

“In case the villagers try to attack us!” Nadia snapped. “You know the council won’t leave us alone until we return; especially with Alaene pushing these scary stories down their throats. And you’re the best of us besides Zabor.”

Zabor nodded to Saren. “Pick some Dancers to watch the border in case we get intruders.”

“What if we do get any?”

Nadia sat forward. “Just bring them straight to me. Anyone who joins us, well, just let them settle in. Zabor, keep track of the main villagers and their Dancers. Ardena, keep the workers busy.”

“What about me?” Kalec asked, scowling at being left out.

Nadia studied him. “You always liked learning. You can be the Superintendent of Knowledge.”

Kalec smiled. “Hey! My mother was a teacher. I would’ve been one if I’d been a commoner.”

“Everyone is common now!” Nadia insisted. “We have no divisions anymore!”

The crowd cheered and dispersed to their interrupted duties. Dancers gathered at the borders with Saren, and Ardena introduced herself to the work foremen. Kalec rounded up several older colonists to organize a school for the few youth who had come with parents or on their own.

Zabor frowned, realizing they hadn’t changed anything, just duplicated their former structure.

“You’re thinking again,” Nadia chastened. “That’s my job.”

Zabor blushed and shrugged. “I guess if I’m the Minister of Foreign Affairs, I better be about my duties.”

“Set up a spy network then return to talk with me.”

She splayed her beautiful wings, and Zabor sighed, “Sure. It will only take a few minutes.”

It actually took a few hours to gather several commoners and explain their spying duties, but once accomplished, Zabor returned to replace Nadia in the same place. Saren stood guard over her ‘court’, which consisted of commoners and a few Dancers petitioning for housing, food, and clothing. Ardena kept busy writing logs of who received what, who still needed items, and who had skills to assist others.

Despite Zabor’s misgivings, Nadia seemed to be a natural decision maker, but he still felt they weren’t functioning any differently than the village council; except Nadia was in charge instead of a council working together—or, arguing together, as it sometimes ended up. Maybe one person in charge would accomplish results faster. As he listened and watched though, Zabor felt Nadia was too bossy with the petitioners, and many left with sullen eyes or droopy wings.

“Took you long enough,” Nadia accused.

Zabor spread his hands. “My recruits needed more guidance than I anticipated.”

Nadia patted the rock next to her. “You know, two heads working together are better than one.”

Zabor sat, which brought their wings together. His quivered when they brushed against hers. She smiled, and he looked away, turning red. “I suppose so.”

“We don’t have restrictions here, Zabor. We can bond like commoners do.”

“Marriage?”

To Nadia? Did he really want that?

“Well, of course, silly!”

Zabor liked Nadia, but he was afraid of her, too. She would be in charge, and their relationship wouldn’t be equal by any means. But if he said no, how would that affect their working situation? If she had complete power in their new village, who would be able to stop her if she did anything wrong? Maybe he could be the voice of reason whispering in her ear.

“We could, I guess.”

Nadia smiled and rubbed his arm. “Good. Call a Blessing Giver.”

A small, wizened Nia came from his duties of overseeing the new chapel area in the forest. He wore a simple knee length cotton tunic and carried a small scroll. “You called, Governor?”

Nadia smiled at him. “Zabor and I wish to be mated. Read the rites.”

He nodded. “As you wish, Governor.”

Zabor held Nadia’s firm hand and listened half-terrified as the Blessing Giver recited the ancient words of joining. The elderly Nian put his hands on their heads and pronounced a blessing, joining them together for life.

“I witness it,” Saren offered.

The Blessing Giver nodded. “Then, I declare these two legally bonded.”

Zabor smiled warily as Nadia snuggled close and wrapped her arms around him. “That was fast.”

“I don’t like long ceremonies, Zabor. I just want things done.”

Zabor embraced her, wondering if he would regret this agreement. What would Alaene think? Her sweet silver face would always be a barrier between him and Nadia regardless of their mating.

“Let’s inspect our nest,” Nadia suggested.

Zabor rose with her, feeling like he was being led to the slaughter as she pulled him along to the biggest nest in the new section of homes. He quivered in anticipation and fear equally, wishing he had not agreed to come with Nadia’s group.

He lay in the second level of the nest later that night with Nadia beside him, wondering again if he had done the right thing. “We’ll never have nestlings,” he mused, not really regretting that Dancers were sterile but still wondering what kind of child he and Nadia might have had as commoners.

Nadia stretched and yawned. “That’s alright. My parents’ nest was too full. They had two sets of twins besides me. I never had any time to just be alone. As the only Dancer, I was held up as an example with everyone always expecting perfection. Well, now I have my own perfection, and I’m finally happy.”

She lay down and soon slept. Zabor eased away from her and climbed the inner ladder to the first level and wandered to the main entrance of their nest. The protective door for the opening had been left open as Nadia wanted, but he didn’t feel safe.

Zabor sat on the ledge outside, studying the new village in the dark. No one moved so late at night, but he listened to the crickets, frogs, and whirring bat wings. A shadow passed over, and he looked up as a bird form crossed the moon and continued into darkness.

He eased into the nest, still looking out the door. That might have been a hawk, but he wasn’t sure. His training instincts kicked in, and he looked for sentries. Several Dancers nearby watched the winged creature retreat through the darkened sky, ready to sound an alarm if the predator turned their way.

We haven’t changed a thing.

He closed the door and returned to Nadia and the rabbit fur bed, hoping to get enough sleep to be worth his duties in the morning.

Early the next week, Alaene woke on the same branch to a sweltering heat. The sun wasn’t up, but a dull red-orange glow banded the horizon. Tree branches hung limp, and thick air seemed to muffle the village and hold her down. Her clothes clung to her body, and she felt a headache brewing.

“Why is it so hot?” she moaned.

The stars had mostly faded from the cloudless sky. Alaene didn’t feel like moving but knew she had to; she had so much work to do. Her heart ached for Zabor, but maybe later in the season when other changes came her friend would come to himself and realize that the histories were true. Maybe they all would. Maybe Talek was right that they had to replace out for themselves.

Alaene launched herself into the air and flew to the very edge of the forest. The communal meadow was empty this early, but she hadn’t eaten dinner and ached from hunger as well; but a whiff of heavy air brought a musty scent unlike anything she’d ever noticed, and caution held her back from the clover.

The smell came again as she waited, this time stronger and closer. A movement caught her eye as something stole through the clover, parting the tall grass in a straight line. Alaene couldn’t see what approached through the shadowy dawn.

The unseen creature’s deliberate movements worried Alaene. Stealth usually meant a predator. Nocturnal predators came through the village at times, but the guards usually sounded alarms to warn the villagers. No one seemed to have noticed this one yet. Should she take a look? Not too close, just a quick sortie high enough out of reach to identify the intruder.

Alaene took to the air, her wings working harder than usual in the humidity. She touched the sword she had decided to wear all the time. No one knew what any day would bring, and she wanted to be ready for any danger.

The creature eased through the clover as if looking for something. Alaene followed its trail, wanting to know what it was but not wanting it to know she was there. Hovering high behind its rump she could see it better. The animal had four legs, a short twitchy tail, and two pointed ears set on top of a rounded head. Tufts of hair stuck up from the tips, and its mottled beige fur helped its muscular body blend into the grass.

Alaene flew lower, staying downwind but wrinkling her nose at its musty smell. The catlike animal halted, peering ahead to the forest. A few early morning Nia drifted over the clover then landed to harvest blossoms and nectar. They didn’t notice the animal was near, but it definitely saw them, crouching and creeping towards the closest one.

She burst ahead of the animal and sped to the Nia. “Look out! Get back to the forest! There’s a predator! I’ll hold its attention so you can escape! Go! Go!”

She turned to the startled animal with a tightness filling her throat. It had large yellow eyes and whiskers, but it was three times as big as any cat she’d ever seen. It definitely had seen her and was not happy about losing its breakfast.

When it yowled and jumped, Alaene zipped into the air. It padded along after, growling in its throat while stalking her away from the village. From the corner of her eyes she noticed blue wings flashing over the field.

“Alaene!” Ramal shouted. “That’s a bobcat! It’s very dangerous! Don’t get too close! Keep drawing it back out to the meadow!”

That won’t be hard, Alaene thought as the bobcat padded through the clover, its eyes never wavering from her, still growling. “Here, kitty, kitty!”

She continued to harry it, flying up or sideways to avoid its quick swat or pounce. Once its paw came within inches of her left wing, and she retreated higher with pounding heart.

“Alaene!” Ridal called. “The village is secure. Let it go!”

Alaene teased the animal one more time before retreating to tree height. The bobcat yowled for a moment then continued on with an angry twitch to its stubby tail. She waited to be sure it left then raced back to the village.

Talek and Ramal were waiting. “Are you alright?” Talek asked.

Alaene assessed herself. The animal hadn’t touched her physically, but her body was shaking, and her heart was pounding. “I’m . . . fine, Sir. What did you say that thing was, Sergeant?”

“A bobcat from the north. They also come south for food when the north dries up.”

Alaene stared at her superiors, shivering all over. “Then. . . It’s another sign?”

Talek nodded. “Yes, and a bad one. The Lizia will come this year; I’m sure of it. The Histories say the grazers and predators come first. There are more dangers than just the Lizia, obviously, but they’re the worst. We need to post more guards in the village and along the meadow. If you hadn’t been here, that family might not have survived.”

Alaene swallowed hard and hugged herself to stop from shaking. This is what you trained for, she told herself; but training had not prepared her for fear. She blew out, trying to shake off her trembling.

Talek noticed her reaction. “It’s alright, Alaene. You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”

I am a trained warrior. More than one Lizia will come. “How many guards should we post?”

Talek patted her shoulder. “Sergeant Ramal can put a roster together. I’m also stepping up our training practice. I need your help, because too many trainers drifted away. We need the Younglings to start early.”

Alaene gasped. “Will it be that bad, then?”

Talek frowned at her. “Do not focus on what we don’t have. Focus on what we do have.”

“But--”

“Be at the training grounds by mid-afternoon.”

Talek flew away, leaving Alaene to stare across the meadow. The bobcat was gone, but more would come and other dangers as well. She grabbed a clover blossom for a quick breakfast then made her standard rounds to check on her area of the forest to verify that the villagers complied with the stricter safety guidelines during high danger days and that the guards under her direct command were in their places of duty.

As she came to the last outpost by the edge of the forest, she found one of a pair missing. “Where is your partner?” she demanded of the lone sentry.

The dappled orange and black guard lowered his head. “He didn’t show at formation this morning. I’ve heard he ran off to the new community during the night.”

Alaene groaned and stared at the distant horizon. Nothing had changed in the landscape, but the heat produced a fuzzy haze across the expansive view. “We can’t keep losing Dancers like this! I will cover his shift with you until the noon changeover.”

She studied the sky, the forest, and the field of clover below as commoners came and went throughout the morning, itching for the afternoon to come so she could return to the practice grounds. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, and she wondered if she was just being overly careful. One bobcat wasn’t much to talk about. They sometimes had weasels, mink, and even snakes climb the trees looking for an egg or an unwary Hatchling to steal. It happened less frequently than when Alaene had been a child, but the fear was always there.

She then noticed a dark spot against the morning light flying from the north and gliding low over distant trees. Spotters father down the meadow sounded a warning as it wheeled overhead and urged the commoners back into the forest. The flying creature was larger than any Alaene had ever seen and all black with a white head and tail. Its wings spanned at least six feet. It wasn’t a Lizia--of that she was sure. Lizia were flying reptiles with leathery skin, and this creature had feathers.

When it nearly crash-landed into a tree, Alaene realized the bird might be injured or exhausted, but was it friend or foe? She had no idea. Other Nia had heeded the warning and huddled under leafy branches out of sight, but Alaene flitted to the tree where the creature rested.

She crept as close as she dared and landed on a branch to study the three foot stranger. Strong talons gripped the branch for balance, and a hooked beak marked it as a predator. Beady eyes peered over the meadow and grove.

“Food,” it muttered in a raspy voice. “Have to have food!”

Alaene gaped at it, surprised she understood its language. As she inched closer the bird’s head snapped around, and she flinched when its beady eyes caught sight of her.

“I see you, Brightwing!” it challenged. “Come feed me so I can continue my journey!”

It continued to eye her, but she stood up despite her shivering. “I didn’t let a bobcat eat me, and I won’t let you, either!”

The bird shook its head and flapped its wings, shaking the tree until Alaene fell backwards a few branches before catching her fall. She flew in closer this time, curious about the visitor.

“Insolent creature!” it shrieked as she hovered just out of reach. “I have young to feed! Come be my dinner!”

Alaene shook her head. “I have a village to protect! Go back where you came from!”

“Bah!” it snarled. “There's no food in the north! Every day I must fly farther south!”

Alaene frowned. “You're from the north, then? What are you?”

The bird cackled. “I do come from the north, Brightwing. I’m an eagle, a master of the skies! I am called Sari-gan!” He snapped his beak between the last two syllables, and Alaene flinched. “Come feed me that I may return to my hunt!”

“Never, Sari-gan!” Alaene challenged, clicking her tongue to imitate his beak sound. “Tell me news of the north! What do you know of the Lizia?”

“Evil monsters!” the bird screeched, and Alaene covered her ears.

“Then they’re real?” she asked eagerly. Finally, valid proof!

Sari-gan jerked forward and she retreated, thinking he was attacking; but the eagle was still gasping from its long flight. “Nest robbers! They steal my young when I hunt! They eat all the food! No food! No food!”

Alaene swallowed hard. “Are they coming this way? How many days away?”

The eagle peered at her. “Come with me, and I’ll show you before I eat you!”

“I will not! You can go eat that bobcat!” She waved towards the south. “He went that way!”

The eagle shook himself. “I hate bobcat! Nasty, stinky things!”

“Then go fish in the lake over that way!” she challenged and pointed west.

“Fish?” the raptor hissed. “Why not you? You’re closer!”

“My people need me to protect them from the Lizia! They’re my enemies, too! How many days?”

The eagle shook himself again and muttered, “My mate guards my young at home with barely any food while I fly three weeks on my hunt, and Brightwing tells me to go fish!”

“Three weeks?” Alaene repeated. “Then they’re far away still?”

“Not far enough!” the bird screamed. “I flew ahead this time, but when I rise to the clouds I always see them following my hunt! Always they eat all the food! Nest robbers! Go fish, she says! Bah!”

With a powerful downdraft that nearly shook Alaene from the tree again, the mighty bird leaped towards her. She zipped behind the tree, barely avoiding his snapping beak. He laughed and flew west towards a glimmer of lake just visible on the horizon.

Alaene leaned against the tree trunk, breathing hard. “Weeks,” she panted. “Only a few weeks.”

And they weren’t even close to being prepared!