50 Harvest, 385 - Reishada, Ograkill, Charan

She had started this journey thinking herself strong and fit, prepared for anything and everything. By the time the riverboat pulled into the harbor at Reishada, Taleka was worn and tired on a level she had never dreamed. It was her spirit that felt the most drained as she disembarked, stepping into the City of Roses for the first time. It had been generations since one of her people had left the safety of Alsais and ventured out into the world at large. Taleka had never expected to be the one to leave. Not really.

Everything she had expected since leaving her home had crumbled to dust and blown away in the hot winds of the desert. The fall weather here in central Ograkill was cooler than she was used to during the day. The desert near Alsais could get exceptionally cold, especially in winter but as long as the sun shone, it could be oppressively hot during the day. Alsaians weren’t built for cold, but they had survived, even thrived in the deserts of Alsais.

It was about balance, the Weaver had always told her. A balance to the world, heat and cold. Life and death. Right and wrong. Fire and water. Earth and air. Everything in a balance, everything right. Except there was no balance to the world anymore. She could feel it in the Weave, even if she still couldn’t touch it. She could see it, feel the unbalance as the magic writhed against her spirit. There were so many things she had seen on this journey. So many strange and wonderful things.

Flowers, trees, and people that she hadn’t seen before. Some she hadn’t even heard stories about. There was wonder in the world, still. Despite all the terrible things in the world, there was wonder. There were kind people who had helped her along the way. There were suspicious looking people who she steered clear of. There were a hundred things she had seen a hundred choices she had made and every one of them had led her here. To the capital city of Ograkill.

She stood on the docks, wings trembling against her back. Orckin, those smaller cousins of the Orcs of old, surrounded her. They were the primary population of Ograkill and it was reflected here in the capital city. There were various other kin in the city, but nothing outnumbered the orckin, or even came close.

Most of the orckin were tall, not uniformly so, but tall. Skin in various shades of green, long mobile ears, eyes tending toward red-brown, mouths with prominent fangs and tusks. They towered over Taleka as she walked into the city, none of them gave her much attention. She wore a dark cloak that she had picked up on her journey. It fought the chill in the air and kept her delicate wings covered.

She had been so strongly attuned to the Weave that her inability to touch it left her feeling hollow and adrift. Something within her ached as it reached out toward the Weave and was unable to connect. She could see it, could feel it all around her, but it was denied to her. She could feel the imbalance in it, swirling within the Weave, pulling it here and there creating turbulent eddies and undertows. The very nature of the Weave seemed to be changing, in a dangerous flux. It made her bones ache. It made her heart ache. It was a wrongness that burned in her veins.

Her yellow toned eyes were shrouded by dark circles, sleep had been tormented and hard to come by. She had dreamed, again and again of the Kel. Whether it was real or not, whether it was the present or not, the dreams rattled her to the very core. Something terrible, something dangerous, had happened, something in the world had wakened and was shaking the sleep from its muscles.

To Taleka it felt as though she could feel it stalking through the world, it was looking for something. She swore she feel the malevolence of its gaze sweep over her. She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself and snuggling into her thick cloak. There was a chill in the air, but the stronger chill, the more painful chill was deep inside.

It was easy to slip through the crowd, none of them paid her any attention. She was a child moving among them, darting between people and through the streets. She found the council hall relatively easily, but figuring out how to introduce herself and getting a meeting with them would be much, much harder.

She sat across from the council hall on an ornate stone bench in a small garden area. Her feet didn’t touch the ground, her back didn’t touch the bench, her wings hung between the slats, her cloak shrouded her from the wind, but still her body felt the chill. The season of Harvest was edging toward Fallow and the weather was edging toward the first freeze. Taleka watched people enter the council hall and leave again. As the day began to wane, she grabbed her courage and hopped up off the bench.

The stairs were frigid against her bare feet as she climbed them. She wasn’t the most politic of the alsaians, but she was the Weaver’s apprentice. Weave or no Weave, balance or no balance. She was the Weaver’s apprentice and she would not fail her mentor. She opened the heavy, dark wood door and padded into the council hall. There was a desk and a second door. At the desk was a woman with feathers, her green eyes, sharp and avian in nature, flicked over Taleka as she entered.

“Good afternoon.” The woman’s smooth feathers ruffled along the back of her head. “What can I help you with?”

“I’d like to speak with the council.” Taleka said, cloak wrapped tight around her.

“Do you have an appointment?” The feathers ruffled again and the feathered woman tilted her head to the left, bird-like and intent. “I don’t think you do, I don’t recognize you.”

Her shoulders slumped, her cloak sliding down. “Can I make one? Soon? I have to speak with the council, urgently.”

The woman behind the desk tilted her head in the other direction, taking in Taleka from head to toe. “Mm… it will not be quickly, unless you have a letter from another council. Who do you represent? Who are you?”

Taleka drew in a deep breath and flared her wings electric blue and edged in black. “I am Taleka, apprentice to the Grandmother Weaver of the Alsaians.”

The bird-like woman frowned, her own feathered wings mantling slightly at the display. Her expression was fierce, blazing green eyes roving over Taleka’s wings. “An Alsaian?” She mumbled. “Interesting.”

“I come from the heart of Alsais. The Weaver herself has sent me on this mission, to inform your people and all the other peoples of the world of a great danger. I must speak with your leaders about this.”

“The soonest they have an opening is next week. That is the best I can do without a reference letter.”

There was something about the look in those fierce green eyes as they met Taleka’s almost yellow ones. “That is the best you can offer?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. Without a letter, a week is the best I can offer you.”

“You know me, don’t you?”

“I know of your kind. We-” She shook her head and sat back down. “The Alsaians left the world an era ago.”

Taleka sighed, wings drooping. “We did not leave the world.”

The birdkin shrugged her shoulders and her intense eyes met Taleka’s again. “Might as well have.”

Something swirled in Taleka’s stomach as she met those eyes. “We didn’t leave. We protected it. We kept the balance.”

There was a fire in the birdkin’s eyes, blazing as she spoke to Taleka. “I have always loved the old stories, the legends. They spoke of the Alsaians like demigods Powers to remake the world, power to save it. To smite the wicked and succor the righteous.”

Taleka shook her head. “We are none of those.” She admitted. “We are servants of the Balance, stewards to the world, not rulers of it.”

The bird woman snorted, her beak-ish mouth barking out a small laugh. “All that power and you chose to hide. You let the world go by without you.”

Taleka winced, studying the woman’s expression. “What happened while we were gone that you are so angry?”

The bird woman gave another laugh. “In one week you may see the council. Until then, leave.”

For a moment she stood, trying to read more from the receptionist’s words, but nothing quite made sense. Why was she so angry? It was a long moment that she waited, but eventually she turned and left. “Thank you,” She called over her shoulder. “I will see you in one week.”