The Wind Whisperer's Apprentice
“Concentrate.”
“I am trying!”
“Then try harder!”
Lara grits her teeth, pushes with her mind, reaching out to grab the air channels and force them where she wills. She feels the shift of the currents tug at her hair, throws her arms out for effect. The slight breeze strengthens into a gale that billows from behind her, tosses her a few feet into the air. Like a wild animal on a lead, the wind tugs and tries to escape from her bidding, but Lara holds on tight, struggling to hang on, to ride the currents. The wind, she pictures this one as a large wolf, slips one way, and Lara hauls it back. It snaps at her mind and she fends it off. It tries to grow still and die, disappear. She lashes out to make it move. Through sheer willpower, she keeps it underneath her, keeping herself aloft, hovering above the ground and getting steadier by the second.
“You are doing it wrong,” Griffith frowns. “I have told you how to do it. Guide it, become one with it, make it want what you want.”
“I prefer my way, it is more fun,” Lara replies, releasing the reins of control, her boots touching the ground again, the wind dying and fading away, free to do as it pleases. "Like training a beast." She brushes locks of shoulder-length hair from of her face, straitens her blue Wind Whisperer Apprentice cloak over her shoulders. “And yet it is less efficient,” Griffith scowls. "If you trained as I teach, you would likely be the most skilled apprentice I have ever had."
Master Griffith was a tall, willowy man with greying blond hair that seemed always to be neatly groomed, even in the strongest of winds. Lara was only a bit jealous of that. Her own hair, brown on one side and bleached on the other, was always in a jumbled mess no matter how hard she tried to calm it. She didn’t mind most of the time though, it displayed her personality.
“If you truly want to become a Wind Whisperer, you will accept that this is the right way.” His voice was dry and gruff, as it always seemed to be when he spoke to or of her, like he was trying to find fault with everything she did.
“Whatever,” Lara huffs, “can I try again? I want to get higher this time.” Griffith waves his hand affirmatively and stalks off to the shade of a tree, swearing under his breath.
Lara takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, seeking the power within. It comes to her easily and she stretches it out like invisible limbs. The probing tendrils weave and curl through the air, snagging it and pulling it in, building up its energy, thrusting it underneath her. Lara shoots up, higher than before, much higher. Up over the trees, over the house. She starts to feel giddy.
To the South, Lara can see the city with all its large buildings, the people looking like swarms of ants. Around it, beautiful spring-green hills roll. The air feels soft and cool, continuously buffeting her body. She feel like she could fall asleep up here if only it didn’t take so much concentration to keep herself afloat.
Lara looks down at her master, barely registrable so high up, and spots another figure slowly making their way along the winding road to the house. Now who could that be?... Probably just a messenger bringing Master Griffith a new job. Still, she was interested.
Taking advantage of her distraction, the air bucks underneath her like a horse, and that is what she starts to view it as, as she wrestles for control, sinking faster and faster to the ground the more it struggles away. A cry breaks from her lips and is whisked away, unheard. She finally loses all command over the wind and plummets.
She flings out her invisible arms again, trying to build a net from the air, though her focus is disorientated. The hard earth soars to meet her; she covers her face with her arms in a futile attempt to protect herself... then stops.
Uncurling, she finds herself hovering barely a metre up. Master Griffith stands with his arms crossed, glaring at her. “What. Did I tell you?” He fumes. Lara says nothing, too relieved at not being a pile of broken bones to come up with her usual snazzy response. Griffith snorts and deposits her in a heap on the grass, then turns to the messenger as he approaches. “Well?” He asks, no surprise evident in his voice at his sudden arrival. Lara found quite early on that it was impossible to sneak up on Griffith.
The messenger, a boy of about Lara’s age, draws in a breath before he speaks. “Mornin' Sir, got a letter from up North, an’ it was marked as urgent.” Griffith nods, holds out his hand. The messenger stands straighter, pulls a brown parchment envelope from his coat and gives it to Griffith. “There you go, sir.” Griffith opens it and starts to read aloud.
“Mister Griffith,
I find myself in dire need of your skill and service as a Wind Whisperer. My task for you is simple yet urgent. My little daughter has grown ill, extremely ill. She has caught the worst case of Yellow Pipe I have ever seen, and fear that she has not long left. Unless I can get a Wind Whisperer to purge it from her. Your skills are widespread and highly praised around the country, so I beg you; make haste on your journey. We dwell on a farm outside the town of Beddgetern, to the North of where you live. I am well known among my people, so finding me shall be no trial. The life of my daughter is now resting in your hands.
-William Dermott.”
Lara notices that the boy’s gaze drifted over to her a few times while Master Griffith read. She gives him a small grin, and he quickly looks away. Lara clambers to her feet and stands beside her teacher, again readjusting her appearance. “So, are we going?” She asks brightly.
“I don’t see that I have much choice. I’ll head out in an hour. You, however, are staying here.”
Lara glares at him, injustice clear on her face. “And why is that?”
“This is not something you want to see.”
“What, Yellow Pipe? I have seen it before.” She scoffs. Sure, it hadn’t been a very pleasant thing to witness, but it hadn’t been that horrible.
“That is true, though you have never seen it purged. I think you had better stay here, and consider whether you want to continue being my apprentice, or keep on with your reckless ways,” He says the last part with a glare of his own. Lara purses her lips angrily but stands down.
“Good. Now go pack my bag.”
***
Lara wakes to the sound of knocking. Her first instinct is to ignore it and let Master Griffith deal with whoever it was, before remembering that he was out and that she was the mistress of the house. Groaning groggily, she pulls on her cloak and makes her way to the front door.
“Yeah, what is it?” She blinks against the morning rays and peers at the boy on her doorstep. “Morning, miss,” the messenger says. “Got another important message for your master. ‘S he in?” Lara shakes her head. “He is still out since the last message.” “That’s unfortunate, miss, this one is very important. I guess I better deliver it to you then. There ain’t any specific wordin’, I was just told to tell the Wind Whisperer that there was this huge storm comin’ in, that it would likely just destroy the whole city if it passed through.”
Lara stared at him. This has to be a joke. “How... How far off is it?” She asks.
“I don’t know, miss, but I reckon it ain’t too long. Comin' at great speeds, they said.”
Lara stares at him for a moment longer, letting it soak in. “You seem awfully calm about this,” she finally says. “Comes with the job, miss. If I started bawling my eyes out every time I delivered some bad news, I wouldn’t get half done now, would I?” He replies with a smirk. “Suppose. Well, thank you for your service,” Lara says, beginning to close the door. The messenger doffs his cap and turns to leave.
Lara groans and slides down the door. This was not a good way to start the day. There was no point sending after Griffith because he had a good day’s head start. And she couldn’t just sit around and wait for him; she didn’t know how long she had. Maybe she could get the message to him in a different way. Lara recalled him once talking about a way of communication called projecting. He had gone over the basics with her, but never taught her how to actually do it.
Projecting was basically picturing yourself in your head and displaying that image through the air to whoever you wanted to see it, along with sound and whatever else you required. Simple, right? Well, as often the case with Wind Whispering, it wasn’t, and after about an hour of reading through her master’s books on the matter, Lara felt no closer to cracking it.
Outside, large grey clouds had already gathered, and rain was pounding on the windows. Gazing out, Lara thought she could already see the storm on the horizon. It was now or never. Or preferably yesterday. Lara wasn’t even sure that if she was successful, Griffith would make it home in time.
Breathing deeply, Lara closes her eyes. She pictures her face in her mind, imagining that image travelling at high speeds on the wind towards her master. She reaches within herself, probing for the power that was so familiar to her now, using it to throw her image like a ball. “Master Griffith! I need your help, there is a big storm heading for the city, and it will destroy it if it gets there! Come at once!” She opens her eyes. If she had succeeded, he would probably project back to her.
Nothing happens.
Lara sighs, closed her eyes and tries again.
***
She had failed. The city was going to be obliterated because she was its only line of defence, and she wasn’t good enough. Hovering high above the house, thankfully there had been no lightning yet, she could see the storm, much closer than before. Ginormous didn’t do it justice. It was ripping up fields, throwing around trees like they were pebbles. She was going to have to face that. But she couldn’t, mustn't give up hope, it wasn’t who she was.
Despite the cold air, Lara was panting with the effort of using her powers by the time she was back on the ground. She knew what she had to do to have any hope of succeeding. She had to follow Master Griffith’s advice, but the truth was, she was scared. Everyone she had ever met who did Wind Whispering was... different somehow. As if once to become one with the wind, there was no going back. She didn’t want to change; she wanted to be herself when she used her power. If she didn’t do it though, the whole city would collapse.
Anyway, first thing first, she had to get as many people out of the city as possible, even if it couldn’t be all. Walking down the street, the hard rain battering at the wall of air she cast in front and around her, she notices that some people had caught wind of the storm already, and were evacuating. Other people huddled in their homes, unaware of the danger they were in. Lara couldn’t do this on her own.
The candles flicker on the desk as the cold air rushes into the Messenger Office through the open door. The clerk looks up from her papers and smiles. “Hello miss, how may I hel-” Lara shushes her with a wave of her hand.
“Are you aware of the storm coming our way?” She demands. The clerk blinks in surprise. “Well, yes, but we have already called for the Wind Whisperer this morning. No need to panic, he’ll sort it out.” Lara leans in. “Well panic, because the Wind Whisperer is not here.” The clerk registers Lara’s blue clothes and puts two and two together. She pales.
“I need you to send every messenger you have out there, spread the word, get as many people you can to get out of here. Evacuate the city.” The clerk stutters. “I-I’m not-”
Lara leans in even closer. “In just a few hours, that storm is gonna hit, and this whole city is going to be torn down. Get. Everyone. Out there.”
The clerk nods, sweat glistening on her brow, spectacles sliding down her nose. The gale outside picks up, anything not stuck to the ground is swept away in the currents. The building creaks and groans as it stands against the torrent.
A body slams into the door and it bursts inward. The clerk screams, flees the room. Lara throws up a cushioning wall around herself and reaches out to snatch the figure, then blocks the empty doorway with a clear wall. Breathing deeply, she looks at the boy she just caught, expecting the worst.
“Ello there, miss,” The messenger from earlier says. There are several cuts over his face and arms, but other than that, he seems fine. “Manage to speak to your master?”
Lara shakes her head. “It is just me.” The boy frowns. “That again is very unfortunate, miss. Think you can fill his shoes?” Lara nods, shakes her head, shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe. Hopefully.”
“Well, know this. I believe in you...” He waits expectantly, obviously hoping for her name.
“Lara,” she smiles, holding out her hand, knowing full well how silly it was to be making acquaintances while the storm grew closer with every breath. “Colby,” he replies, accepting her handshake.
“Now you probably should be heading out there to kick that storm’s ass,” he grins, “but I think I’ll go find somewhere to crouch and hope my guardian angel ain't sleeping. I don’t think I've ever said this with so much feelin’ before, but good luck.”
Lara stares after him as he follows in the clerk’s wake, taking a moment to compose herself. This was it, she was going to have to stop running from the inevitable, face her fear, become one with her element. Save the city.
She takes a deep, shaky breath and holds it. She can feel every connection to the air within her. Every one she has ever held, all the ones she currently has. One by one, she lets them go. And though she starts to feel heavy with the loss of those bonds, it is like a great weight is lifting from her shoulders at the same time. She hasn’t felt this... Open, free, unburdened, not since she discovered her powers hidden away inside her, buried deep within the unknown depths of her mind. She feels like she is sinking into the ground and floating high above the clouds all at once.
The wind is pouring in through the open, unblocked doorway, the rain, hard as bullets clashing against her skin and on the ground. One struggling step at a time, Lara moves forward to the outside. The gales sweep her up instantly, throwing her down the road. She feels feeble next to the strength of this raging dragon, her mind itches to use her powers against it, but she knows she can’t, she has left that behind her now.
Flinging out her invisible arms as far and wide as she can, time seems to slow down for Lara. She can feel the wind rippling through her clothes and hair, slapping them harshly to her body and face. She can feel the rain, like knives upon her skin as they try to rip her flesh. She can feel the doors in her mind, ones she had never noticed before, and pushes them open, knowing that they could never again be closed. She welcomes the wind in. Join me and I will join you, let us be one. And the wind complies. Just like that she has found a new, more efficient way of Wind Whispering, the way Griffith had been telling her the whole time.
How naive she had been, fighting for complete control when this was so much better, easier, more powerful. Time rushes back in as if trying to make up for its previous speed. Help me! Lara cries directly to the wind, to its energy, its spirit. And the wind does. It catches her, halts her fall, blocks the rain. Take me up, I- we have to save the city. And the wind obeys, lifting her high into the clouds. Floating effortlessly in the sky, she can now see the full scale of what she has to stop. And she sees that this storm is not the enemy. It is but a weary traveller stepping on an ant hill, unaware of the damage it is causing.
Lara stretches her arms out as wide as she can, both invisible and real, engulfing the storm to her full extent. “Stop,” she whispers. The storm tries to ignore her, carrying on with its journey to nowhere. “Stop, please!” This gives it pause. And what would you have me do? She can almost feel it ask. What would you have me do?
“Turn around, go back to the sea where you came from, where you can rage freely without dealing harm.” Lara presses her mind at it, willing it to want what she asks. Her arms are aching, slipping back to her. She cannot hold this much longer. “Please!”
And by some miracle, it listens. Lara watches it go. Her vision is dimming, black spots appearing at the edges. She is aware of herself slipping slowly to the ground. But it doesn’t matter, because she did it. She stopped the storm and saved her city. The clouds are still circling, the rain is still falling, but normally now. And finally, the world goes black.
__________________
Ain't much that I know what to put 'ere...
"And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies." - Haymitch
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