by TJ Muir
Finally, chilled and exhausted, the four of them swam to the back of the boat, climbing onto a small platform and back in. They grabbed towels to dry off, and despite his own rush to get drier, he couldn’t help but notice Diya’s graceful curves next to him. In the water, in the dusk, it was hard to notice much- especially with trying not to drown. Here, in the soft glow of the torches and moonlight, every curve and nuance had an additional allure. Embarrassed, he turned his attention to getting dry. All of them wrapped in blankets, snuggled on the deck, waiting for water to get hot enough for hot cider. Jay however, found himself warming up, inside, in a very different way, and was grateful for the dim light, and took a deep breath, trying to use his muffling skills, to bring his other senses and urges under better control.
They sipped hot cider quietly, as the night brought a natural hush to the group.
“I think I like swimming,” Jay commented. “Although I think I might like to try when it’s a bit less icy.” He grinned as he said this. There was agreement all around, for that. The two couples had separated, just slightly- enough that two separate conversations began, with neither interfering with the other.
“I can’t begin to tell you, the good fortune I feel, being with you, being with you all,” Jay said. The first time he had ever begun to express gratitude or appreciation. This was the first time that he had something that he valued, cherished.
“You have certainly brought a new element to those around you. You must have some magical spell about you,” Diya teased, not knowing how true her words were. Jay blushed, feeling guilty, and wondering how much was him, and how much was a possible magical-force. Did they truly like him and accept him? Or perhaps, it was as Kirrin had once tried to explain, and the world- and the people around him- were simply bending to his desires. Could magic be that powerful? Those questions were too big for him to consider. Instead, he just sank down into the warm feeling of having Diya curled against his side.
The two of them watched the stars come out, and the Nibbin flitted across the sky. “I love the stars,” Diya confided. “I often wonder if the gods in the sky, watch us, and wonder, or if they even notice we are here,” she said, turning philosophical.
“I don’t know,” Jay answered, considering the question. Gods and goddesses and higher powers hadn’t been a part of his life, his world, except when he was desperately praying for help. “I wonder how close to them we are if we could fly?” He knew he had been drinking and wasn’t sure about the logic of his thinking. He had been thinking about flying, and flyers, and somehow, the two thoughts had merged into one sentence.
“Would you like to fly?” Diya asked, serious, turning a bit so she could look at Jay.
The question left him flustered, and he opened his mouth several times, half-formed words getting stuck before they made it out enough to be heard. He blinked, brow furrowed. “I don’t really know,” he admitted. “I never considered that it might be possible. I wouldn’t even know how to go about it. Something like that, I think, is out of my reach.”
“But would you want to? Would you like to fly?”
Jay looked up at the sky, at the flickering stars and light colors that began to streak and flow across the night. He tried to imagine himself up there, sailing through the air.
He nodded finally. “Yes, I think I would. I think it would be the most incredible experience anyone could have.”
Diya smiled back at him, eyes glittering. Jay could tell from her colors, that something was stirring. But either because of the wine or being tired, he couldn’t tell what it was. Then she tucked up against his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her, feeling for the moment, as though the world was a magical place.
Chapter Eleven
Fate intervened, creating change in Jay’s life. When the boat returned to the dock, there was a somber group of men waiting for them. Men sent in official capacity, representing the House. They bowed formally to Trey as he stepped onto the dock. The house steward stepped forward before going down on one knee, “Da'har Zo'Trey,” he proclaimed, placing both hands on his knee, and bowing his head down to touch his hands. The rest of the men also went down to their knee, mimicking the steward.
Trey looked like he was about to laugh as if there were some great joke being played. He looked around wildly, staring at the faces of the men.
“Where is my brother?” he asked. “Come out! Taj!! Joke is over. It’s not funny.” He called. But no one moved.
Jay shifted his awareness and scanned the group. Dread. Grief. And he looked at Trey, as his disbelief shifted into something far more complex. Confusion and fear.
The steward looked up, and Jay could see the tears streaking down his face. “It is with great sadness that I must tell you of your father's death. There was an accident at the mill. Da'har Yar'Fel and Yar'Taj were crushed. We all mourn your loss.”
Jay didn’t know what to make of it all. The three friends expressed their deepest condolences, hugging Trey, holding him up against the shock of the news. It was the only time Jay could remember when Trey had no words. The bright smile and cockiness had evaporated.
Trey had looked truly lost, as the House Steward led him away. Trey had looked over his shoulder, back to his friends- silently begging them for something. But even in his shock, part of his brain remembered his manners, and nodded to them all, before being led away.
And just like that, his new friend went from carefree and wild, whisked away into the official capacities that went with his heritage.
Jay didn’t know what to make of it all. He didn’t know what was proper to do. His concern- having no political ties or ambitions- was solely for Trey. His friend. Not for Da'har Zo'Trey Zayam, the new Da'har of a ruling house. Jay didn't know who that person was because, until that moment, that person hadn't existed.
The next few days, Jay spent on his own, visiting the park, carving animals, wandering about through city gardens, and market squares. He learned from Kirrin additional details about the tragic deaths. A landslide, a freak accident. A loss for everyone, Kirrin explained, nodding sagely. Jay didn’t have words, and was trying to understand what was going on, which he did better moving around than sitting at home.
Jay liked the park, his favorite spot, being by the pond with the swans and the ducks. He stayed at the far end, where a bridge crossed the pond to a small island in the center. There Diya found him, feet dangling above the water, as she settled down close beside him, comfortable in his company. At the moment, neither one of them cared much about social constraints.
“Have you ever lost anyone close to you?” Diya asked, dropping pebbles into the pond.
Jay wasn’t sure how to answer that. “Not really. And not like this, so unexpected,” he explained, skirting the truth. He didn’t remember losing his parents- so it wasn’t a lie.
“Me neither,” she said, staring down at the water below. “I guess I thought my life would always be like it is now. Even though it’s fun to imagine the future- I don’t think any of us sees it coming, or is truly prepared for it,” she said, but it sounded as if she were talking for her own benefit, more than for Jay.
“What do you think will happen now?” Jay asked.
“To us? Nothing really. To Trey? I suppose his whole world just went topside over. He never considered that he would become Da’Har. He had a brother, Taj. Trey didn't have much real responsibility, I suppose, other than making a good marriage. Which, knowing Trey, he would have quickly ignored, and gone back to his regular habits and friends,” she said.
“Who do you think he would have married?” Jay asked, but he did smile at the notion of Trey refusing to grow up.
Diya shrugged. “I don’t know. But whoever the family might have had in mind? That’s all changed now. I feel bad for him. This isn’t something he would want, or would have chosen.”
Jay sighed, happy that he would never have to deal with those kinds of complications. His own life was becoming complicated enough.
Di
ya suddenly looked up, a new thought crossing her mind, as she rose to her feet, decisively. “Enough moping!” she said.
Jay shook his head, bringing himself back to the present, confused by the sudden change in tone.
Diya reached a hand down, which he took, reflexively, and she pulled him up.
“What? Where are we going?” he asked, wondering if she wanted to visit the archives or some other favorite place that would distract them from their gloomy thoughts.
“You will just have to wait to find out,” she said as she grabbed his arm with her usual willful determination and headed towards the park’s main gate. She summoned a public carriage and climbed in without ever letting go of Jay’s arm. Jay still wasn’t used to this kind of decadence. Hiring a carriage? And she did it as though it were nothing.
“Where are we going?” he asked again as the carriage jostled along.
She just smiled and shook her head. He knew that look. She wasn’t going to tell him anything. So they rode along in silence, Jay trying to figure out what she had in mind, as the carriage headed out of the city.
The carriage wound through open farmland and into a small grove of trees. Diya climbed out, extending a hand to Jay. Then she called out, dismissing the driver.
Now Jay was completely confused. What did she have in mind and how were they supposed to get back to the city?
He looked at Diya, hands on hips. She turned and walked off. He sighed and followed her as she headed into the woods, following a path that led upwards. Jay didn’t like being out of the city and hurried to catch up.
They walked for a while on the path that continued to wind upward. Jay was curious about where they were heading, but his attention was focused on his surroundings: sights, sounds, and smells.
Before long, the path leveled off, and Diya led him out into a clearing.
“Wow,” Jay said. They were standing at the top of a hill, the southern region spread out below them, a broad vista that made Jay a little dizzy. The southern slope was far greater and steeper than the hill they had climbed.
“Okay, this was worth the secrecy,” he said, stepping back from the southern side of the slope. He took refuge next to a large tree, one arm grasping it, but trying to look casual. It felt like the world tilted and he might just roll off the edge and die. He looked at Diya, a bright silhouette staring out across the valley below. “Be careful,” he called out to her, from under the tree.
“It’s okay. It only looks like an edge. The ground slopes down from here. It doesn’t drop off,” she said. “Come, this wasn’t the surprise.”
Now Jay’s curiosity took hold and he followed her over the edge, down to a small clearing just beneath the ridgeline.
“Wow,” he said. Eyes wide. Diya looked back at him, her smile full of triumph. Just below the ridge, bright red silk with white trim flapped in the breeze. Three men were in the process of setting up a flier. Jay’s heart pounded. He looked at Diya, speechless.
“Our private fliers use this area to practice. We own the mountain. Well, it isn’t really a mountain, but that doesn’t matter.”
Jay just stood there, staring at Diya and the fliers, in turns. She spoke so matter of factly about ‘her private fliers,’ and about owning a mountain. How could anyone own a mountain?
“I thought this might cheer you up,” she said.
Jay just blinked. He looked at Diya, who looked a little worried. He smiled at her, trying to reassure her. Completely out of his element, he followed her as she led him down to the fliers.
Just beyond the three men, Jay could see a cart laden with the parts of fliers that they were putting together. And he could see a ramp that jutted out over the edge of the clearing.
While he was assessing his surroundings, Diya had gone right up to the fliers.
“A good day for flying?” she asked.
“A little quiet, but good weather,” the man agreed. “A good time to test out some new equipment. And good for Jarvis over there, he’s still learning the basics.”
Jay looked where the man indicated, and saw a man slightly older than he was. Jarvis was seated on the ground on the far side of the flier, tools and parts scattered around him. Jay didn’t think Jarvis was having much fun as he tried to assemble whatever it was. Jay looked back at the man Diya was talking to, who laughed.
“Yeah. Jarvis wants to fly, he says. So, he’s learning from the bottom up. Just like we all did,” Jay wasn’t sure if the man was deliberately giving Jarvis a hard time.
“Oh,” Diya said, interrupting. “I should introduce you. Jay, this is Marrik.” The man just nodded, his attention turned back to the attaching the silk to the frame.
“Pleased to meet you,” Jay said. He meant it. He had hundreds of questions about flying, and now he had someone he could ask. He wasn’t sure how approachable Marrik was though.
“The other man is Digger,” Diya added.
“Digger?”
“It’s what everyone calls him. I’m not sure if it’s his real name or not.”
Before long Digger was strapped into the harness and launched off the platform into the wind. Jay was mesmerized, watching the large silk wings grow smaller and then catch the breeze and soar upward, out over the valley.
Digger rose up in the sky, circling back over their heads. Then he flew behind the treeline and out of sight. Jay gasped in total awe.
“That is amazing!” He said, staring upwards even though he couldn’t see the flier.
Diya stood nearby, watching the flier and watching Jay. He looked over at her. She was wearing her self-satisfied look.
“If you two would like, you can help Jarvis,” Marrick said and looked over to his young apprentice. “Jarv, you can stop fixing those struts,” he hollered. “and get your sorry backside over here and help with the second flier.”
Jarvis seemed thrilled to have someone do his grunt work. Jay was more than happy to drag the poles over and set up the frame, and Diya was right beside him, pitching in. Marrick stepped in to check the attachments and tighten bolts.
When they were done, Marrick came over, grunting his approval. “You two would make good apprentices,” he said, frowning at Jarvis. “If I had to wait on him, It’d be dawn before I got back home. The north terrace ain’t close,” he mumbled, half under his breath.
Jay turned his head, looking toward Diya. He knew it was a foolish wish. Diya was a So’har and he was whatever he was.
Diya stepped forward, taking Marrick by the arm. Jay was worried. He knew that look even though he had no idea what she was planning.
“Marrick, Jarvis knows he will learn a lot from you, though. Aren’t you one of the most experienced fliers in the region?”
Marrick puffed out his cheeks, looking sideways at his mistress, the daughter of his employer and sovereign.
“I think it would be good if I knew how to fly.”
Marrick just looked at her, knowing it was not a good idea. He rolled his head to the side, looking away. Either he was going to refuse the young So’har, who would one day be his sovereign and boss, or he risked displeasing his current sovereign.
Jay watched the two of them, locked in a staring match. Jay felt sorry for Marrick.
In the end, Diya had her way. Marrick was going to take her and Jay up for a flight. He agreed reluctantly, and only flying tandem. He insisted Diya fly with him. Jay suspected that Marrick was taking absolute personal responsibility, to assure no harm came to Diya while she was doing something potentially dangerous, and without consent.
Marrick took Diya, leaving Jay in with Digger. He packed them in himself, however, placing them in the harness, explaining the basics to them: where to grip, how to lean. Jay soaked in everything Marrick said. He was actually going to fly!
Looking down over the edge, he began to have reservations. It was a long way down. He didn’t have time to think about it for very long, though. They stood on the launching pad and Digger looked back to him for a final confirmation. Jay nodded b
ack before he could even consider changing his mind, Digger hoisted the frame up and launched them into the air.
Nothing prepared him for this. They sliced through the air. Within moments, they were soaring, silent, except for the rush of the wind. It was noisier in the sky than he expected, with wind rushing by as it held them up, grabbing at sleeves and whipping his hair. Wind had more substance to it than he had ever considered.
They climbed higher. The world opened up and stretched out beneath him. It would have been breath-taking for anyone. But with Jay’s newly acquired senses, it was astounding. He watched the flows of rivers, vibrant and glowing, murkier around city and villages along the river, which flared strangely- like flowers on a vine but blighted somehow. The world spread out beneath him: the places people lived- out of balance, off-tune. It wasn’t something he could describe. But he saw the world of his maps and stories, come alive in his mind and his understanding.
To the east and southeast of the city, surrounding the central sprawl, he saw the occasional spiral jutting up above the landscapes. He only caught a few glances, but he was bespelled by the elegance of them. He was looking at the Yfa Chirra and Yfa chirrik, the greater and lesser shells- those magical relics that bestowed power to the Da'har and So'har. Each of the Houses possessed one. Before this, he had never thought much about what they were or what they did. Now his mind had a real object to define- even if he had barely seen the curving shells of magical power.
Digger brought him in to land on the lower field. Digger looked over his shoulder to Jay as they came down. He yelled out to him, “drop your feet and run with the flier.”
Jay yelled back, “Okay.” and nodded. He realized Digger couldn’t see him and had turned back to look ahead anyway.
“Now!” Digger yelled, and Jay felt the thump. He ran with Digger, bringing the flier to a standstill.
Digger helped him get out of the harness. Jay bounced out of the way, feeling like his feet were barely touching the ground. He rubbed his ears, trying to warm them up. He knew now, why the others wore caps. He swung his arms a few times, they were a little tight. He had used his shoulders and weight to help Digger steer the craft.