Storm's Arc

Chapter 1 of 6

Storm had walked the clouds for three days, and the sky-temple was still only a story. She was a goddess of weather, dark-skinned and dressed in white, able to call rain with a thought and split the air with lightning. But power meant nothing without a throne. The old legends spoke of a forgotten temple above the clouds that once ruled every storm and every calm. If she found its empty seat, she could command the weather of the whole world. The problem was simple and cruel: no legend said where the temple stood. So she drifted, turning cloud after cloud, finding only more white nothing. She stopped when her foot struck something solid. A path of pale stone ran through the mist. She followed it and found an old man sitting on a flat rock. His beard reached his belt. He held a crooked wooden staff and watched a kettle that hung over no fire. This was Master Yunxiao, the cloud hermit the oldest tales named. He was said to have lived here before the temple was forgotten. "You walk loud for a goddess," he said, not looking up. Storm knelt before him. "You remember the sky-temple. Tell me where it stands." Yunxiao stirred the kettle. "I remember. Memory is cheap. The way is not." He tapped the stone with his staff. "The temple hides itself. Only one key opens the road. A feather from a sky warrior's wing, given freely, not taken." "Where do I find such a warrior?" Before he answered, wind struck the mist from the side. A figure dropped onto the stone path, black wings spread wide, landing light as a cat. Crimson eyes fixed on Storm. Three small tomes spun in slow circles around the warrior's shoulder. Sleek armor caught the gray light. "Jeru guards the road," Yunxiao said, calm. "They let no one pass who has not earned it." Jeru folded their wings. "The hermit talks too much." Their voice was flat, bored. "You want a feather. Everyone does. None of them live to use it." Storm rose. Thunder rolled under her words. "I am not everyone." "Prove it." Jeru drew one black feather from their own wing and held it up between two fingers. "The road opens for whoever can take this from me. I won't give it." They smiled, just slightly. "The hermit said freely given. I say otherwise." Storm understood then. The old man had told her the true rule. The warrior meant to break it. She stepped forward, and the clouds around them darkened. Rain began to fall between the two of them. Yunxiao sighed and lifted his kettle away from the coming storm. "So it begins again," he muttered. "They always fight before they learn." Storm now had her goal and her gate. The road to the throne ran straight through the warrior who refused to let her pass.