Completed Spirits of Belnegand

[Princess Dune]

If she were at the tallest tower in Jaleyaana, she could see twinkling lights in the distance spanning from Sey'Kube on the ridge to Seluca on the coast. Perhaps even spotting the outline of the fabled castle Falahmat that lay some distance between them.
But such would not be her privilege as she could contend only with the balcony window in her chambers, where it overlooked naught but the measly gardens beneath and the massive wall all around. Only the mountain Belnegand's silhouette loomed above the walls. Its characteristic white huff-puff was indicative that demons were running a bakery at full power, at least as folklore so told.

Within an hour even the sun would be fully gone, already leaving the sight of the balcony, casting everything above it in warm golden hues, and everything beneath in the frigid chill of the early night.

---

»Lala* Dune, Abatiy requests your presence at the banquet tomorrow, are you willing to discuss- « hesitantly uttered a servant from the other side of the exit door.
»I am not willing, « commanded Dune, sitting by her mirror and brushing her long hair. Not even turning her head, quite expecting to be pestered by her lesser brother's antics at this time.
»But malik Heydar will be- ...«
»I am not interested, « she scoffed. » Now let me retire for the evening in peace.«

The long pause and silence proved well enough that she at last will have some peace.
After the 1000th stroke, she left her comb on the table before making her way to sit on the cool balcony. A quaint little cage. And the flowers that grew beneath her were not much of a looker. Lillies from Ixchel, a young Opalina tree from the new continent**, rainbow trailing petunias, pink and white Abberesai daisies, five noble cultivars of roses, each with a more cliche name of an eastern princess of a bygone time. It was an overcrowded small garden, too opulent for its feeble scale.

Now faintly twinking in green insect lights.

Zafir

---

* Lala is a noble title denoting one of Urshumgal's lineage
** Malakath

 

[Zafir]

Upon the balcony appeared a bird, ebon winged and white feathers upon their chest. A learned eye may distinguish them as a Kaliti Raven, for its noble posture, and curious eyes could belong to none else.

They stood in silence, upon the edge of the opening, they hopped across the sand stone once, twice, and their head cocked so that their avian eyes could better see the lady in her room.

Malik Heydar the name swirled about the consciousness. Curious name that, what could it mean, the black feathered bird wondered. And on they watched, as comb passed through hair, again and again until finally the motion come stop. The bristled tool came down against the table, and the black winged bird hopped and flapped its wings to fly away.

Air would rush against their feathers, and a high they would rise before swooped up and over the ceiling of the tower. Ornate and domed rooftop a strange place for a taloned bird to find roost. So, on the opposite end of the balcony the bird did land, clawed feet scraping light against the sandstone ledge.

The raven's head cocked and turned, and its big eyes watched the princess who stoled along the flowers, and let green lights paint her.

Dune

 

[Princess Dune]

Was that the sound of fluttering wings? An Azrail?


She peered down at the gardens, quietly observing it, but not for the flowers, moths or fireflies that started to flutter about.
Two servants behind one large bush of flowers appeared to want to have some private time. They were unaware of her presence.
Well, not on her watch.
Dune looked around a little bit, noticing some dislodged pebble on the floor.
She lowered herself by the thick, ornate railing and aimed it a few times before tossing it in the bush and scurrying herself back indoors as clandestinely as she could.
Dune believed she was unseen.

Within a moment, she returned back outside to what she assumed was an empty garden, carrying a little ornate box and placing it by her side.

Was that the bird..?
She quietly began to coo at it.

Zafir

 

[Zafir]

The bird's eye shined with greed and curiosity all the same.

It would seem that the King of King's progeny was but a trapped trouble maker. The raven's head clocked to the left, to let one eye see her better as she scurried back into the room. When she emerged once more, the long beaked profile ticked to the right as the bird gave a small hop. She had a box.

The bird's eyes blinked as she cooed, and a low croak came from the raven, it's shaggy throat feathers flared, but it stayed upon the balcony.

What, its eyes seemed to ask as its head cocked one way then the other, was in the box?

It hopped, small and carefully, forward, its talons clicked against the stone of the balcony's railing.

Dune

 

[Princess Dune]

If it was as true as people said, ravens could very well speak. Well, more like imitate speech and not quite understand what they're saying aside from tone and pitch. Still, Dune could not dehort herself from speaking to, at least what to her appeared, an ordinary beast of the medium-small statue.

Quietly she cooed again, her hand beckoning at the bird, » come closer, that's right, « followed by, » just a little bit more. What a brave bird you are. «


The scent of the flower's pungent smell was almost biting in this walled-in hole, where no wind could dispel its scent.


To see in hope that she would not startle the bird, her hand slowly reached for the little ornate box. It was vibrant ultramarine in colour and metallic, with gold-plated designs all over. Ornamental stars and flower motifs were the box's flavour.
She slid it closer to her end of the little balcony table, with her fingers eventually finding the edge opposite of the hinges.

clack

A little dry biscuit, she crumbled in her hands, leave it's residue on the railing.


At least it was now clear, it was not a box of lies.
Zafir

 

[Zafir]

Biscuits in the box. The white chested raven tuned its head. That was it. Crumbles were left on the ledge of the railing, and the avian skull ticked to adjust the scope of the bird's vision. Another tick up had the girl come center in the field of its eye.

Black wings splayed out in long feathered fans and ebon beaked maw opened wide as a proud caw came out. Even the wind seemed to heed the call. Swept up in the sudden storm. Sand scraped and skated. Settled.

But a whim of the great desert.

The crumbs were still there before the wide winged raven. Bits and pieces left undisturbed by the gale.

The raven folded up its wings and hopped forward. Closer to the crumbs.

"A paltry offering," the raven spoke in a voice like shadow and dust. "but an offering all the same," he squawked and pecked upon the broken bits of biscuit. Buttery and herbal. Of rosemary and salt.

The bird ate as brids do. Punctuated and quick. Pecks and small bouncing hops that saw the crumbs turn gone.

"Well," came the withering voice. "Such respect merits some reward," said the raven. "Questions three thou shall give, and answers three thou shall receive in fair turn."

Dune

 

[Princess Dune]

She wasn't quite sure what she was expecting as she heard the bird utter words, not those of curious mimicry, but actual speech with reason and thought.
»But it was enough to get you here, « she spoke, the surprise slowly waning from the voice.
She reached for the opulent box and took out a complete biscuit and left it by the railing. Up close with a clearer view of the box, it was clear each treat was different, either in shape, colour or flavour of its filling. In all fairness, any number of things could have made their home in such a box, from secret letters to jewellery or other little clutter items.
Treats it was. Dune bit into her own and slowly chewed through, her gaze slowly wandering towards the distance, where the top of the mountain lay covered in smoke. Given such an unnatural occurrence, the question better fit its merit in truthness.
»So, do they really cook sinners up in Belnegand? « A bird as free as it can be surely could see what was up that holy mountain, the target of much mysticism and superstition, rumoured homeland.

Zafir

 

[Zafir]

The white chested raven pecked at the crumbs, only to raise their head up, straight and tall, as they fixed their keen eye upon the young woman. "So it was," he confessed, and thought to himself, perhaps this child was more clever than he had originally thought.

But was that not the way of the young and new to this existence? Unfettered by the shackles of the past. Wisdom, yes, it was in short supply, but only that wisdom thought to be well rooted in the wisdom that came prior.

What was the honor of time to the grains of the dune? Little more than passing moments. For the great sea of sands shifted with the will of the wind. And was he not but the shadow of such a fickle force? A rider of gales as errant and unpredictable as a tempestuous youth. A pattern there, for only a moment, before spontaneity struck, and all course was set to change.

It was almost charming, and had he lips, he may have smiled.

"Belnegand rises high above your cities and settlements," the corvid spoke with open beak. "Tis a place many a soul is lost." he pecked at the last few crumbs, and tossed his head back to let a sizeable piece fall back into his gullet. A pleased shake of the head and a puff of the neck feathers, then he began to preen himself. "Sent, or simply astray, the peaks of Belnegand care not, and less so does the sun that burns as so the sun wants," was his answer.

A caw, and twin eyes of obsidian, bright with the moon's light, stared at the girl as he bobbed his head forward. "Questions, two, remain to you,"

Dune

 

[Princess Dune]

The princes pondered the answer for some time. Perhaps the world outside is not less nor more frightening as told, it was merely different from what was taught as dogma about the mountain so grand and holy.

Two more questions remained. She slid the box closer, so treats can be picked at will and taking one herself, she would ponder again.
Dune would be of course, unaware of any allegiance the sleek raven may have possessed or still possess, simply assuming the default state of nature. Nevertheless, she asked for genuine truth. » You who flies without a master, unbound by four walls with which I must pretend as if they were no prison to me. What is it like, to be truly free and without constraint? «

Zafir

 

[Zafir]

"Wise, beyond your paltry years," the voice came rumble from the raven's throat, and its beak hung open as it edged forward, short hop after short hop. He pecked up a cracker from the box, whole, then scoot away with bouncy pops. He laid the cracker down, and began to break with hard pecks until it was in more manageable pieces. He snatched up a piece and gobbled it down his gullet with quick jerks of his head that threw his beak back.

When the biscuit piece passed, he shook his head, his beak chattering some as he clicked it together with small and rapid sounds.

He crooed. "We all have masters, young one," his eyes gleamed, and he turned his head to regard the twin moons that hung in the night sky. "And are bound by walls we pretend not to see," he turned his eye back to her. "Scale one wall, only to find another beyond it, ride one wind, only to find the gale ends, and your wings have grown tired," he cawed, and went to pick up and eat another cracker. "Question, but one more I shall answer," he picked at the cracker bits.

Dune

 

[Princess Dune]

Dune only briefly showed discontent with the answer given to her. But she then pondered through it some more. Bounds and barriers and cages, one upon another, what one found chafing and what was tolerable was a deeply personal affair.

One more remained.
»Then so... What is your name? «

Even the sun now, has dipped behind the mountains, leaving the palace behind the cool shadow of Belnegand, growing ever longer until it was no different from the evening darkness and the chill that came with it.
The young noble pulled her grown tighter over her shoulders.
Filled the air quiet coos of nesting birds, the croak of pond frogs and crickets living in the garden soils.

Zafir

 

[Zafir]

He liked this one. Generous, as she was cunning. He left the last cracker in the tin, and hopped away from her ornate box, talons clicking against the sandstone rails as the sounds of life come forth with the easing of the sun filled the air.

"A promise," he said in response, his avian skull snapped to the side so that his dark eye could see her, though his white chest faced the open window . "To those who heed wise council," he spread his wings, and the winds once more swept up about him, as if summoned by the very motion. Or perhaps, he had just felt it coming.

"Place your box upon this window, on nights so gentle, and may be you find this bird come answer three questions more," he scrabble-hopped and ran before his black wings beat the air and those currents they strummed down lifted his body small body up, and up, and up into the night.

Dune

 

[Princess Dune]

A promise...
This little walled garden of stale air, suffocating by pungent pollen languishing without purpose. Now adrift, higher and higher by each wingbeat, brought in the fresh air of the cool night as the last glimmer of light left this world.
As if out of a dreamlike daze, Dune gazed at the disappearing figure until the white of its plumes was no different from the stars, and its feathers the void of the sky. And she kept looking and looking to no avail, noticing not when she could no longer see what she sought anymore.

It really was as over as the day.
Steps, quiet but echoed, the banter of servants and the distant howl of a dog shook the princess back to this world.
Standing up and walking indoors with her little box in hand, she could not turn her back to her little balcony. Wither her two brothers and their schemes she was not privy to.
Well...maybe she too now had secrets of her own.

Zafir