Whoo... cliff hanger

The winds that whipped around the Central Steeple were vicious, cold like ice and fast like lightning. Still Talleth didn’t mind too much, he was used to standing in high places.

He no longer whistled the tune that he had in the after, yet still the melody of that song ran over in his head, the one verse that his father had taught him as a child. It was a re-assuring comfort for the young man, almost like his mental ritual for relaxation.

Taking a look at the city’s clock tower just to his right, the soberly dressed figure counted down the minutes in his head. ‘Any moment now.’

Right on cue, a group of three individuals stepped out from a carriage at the foot of the steeple. All three wore masks, yet the burning red hair of the first to descend gave them away. Even in the dark, Talleth’s eye sight was sharp, and the colors stood out like it was day to him.

Straightening his cloak’s collar, he began to move towards the palace.

With a trade mark grin he began to walk down the roof. “Easy as…”

Suddenly a tile shot out from below his feet, sending the normally self assured young man flying.

‘Damn tiles!’ he thought as he tumbled over the edge. Far below he could see the ground rushing up to greet him. This would hurt a lot.

***

Prince Elstridge peered out at the gathering throng of nobles, politicians and important personalities who now moved with grace and pomp through the Palace ballroom. Drops of sweat, no longer content to bead on his brow, now began to form on his back and his mouth was suddenly very dry.

“Don’t fret at the curtain son!” Called his mother, calmly sitting on a plump teal couch, sipping tea from a porcelain cup, “come drink your tea?”

Elstridge resisted the urge to scream at his mother, and instead walked over to the matching chair which was off to his right.

“For the 100th time mother, I’m not fretting!” He exclaimed, defiantly taking a cup of tea from the table.”

“Is that so?” The stately woman replied. Turning her head slightly to look at her obviously stressed son she continued. “Then why are you shaking so much?”

The rattle of the tea cup hitting the saucer stopped suddenly as Elstridge willed his hand to stop moving immediately.

“I meant your knees son.”

With an increasingly red face, the boy realized that his knees were knocking together. Standing up suddenly, he almost spilt the tea on his shirt, putting it down just in time to avoid the splash.

“I don’t want to be King mother!”

Elmaria Nina Royale thought back to the days when she had been much younger. Although she wasn’t considered old at the age of 46, already she could feel her face changing, and the gray hairs were sprouting quickly matching the blonde that were there first. Still her memory was sharp. When she had been but 17, she remembered well the day of her brother’s coronation and how he too had railed against his own crowning. It was hardly coincidence that her dear brother Elliam had become the greatest ruler that Wilderia had ever known. Well, the enlisting of the alliance with the Keep had definitely helped, but that was only marginal, at least in her own mind.

“Elstridge Liam Royale!” She breathed in her most commanding and authoritative tone. “You have been chosen by the people of Wilderia to lead them into this next season of this country. You have been raised from birth KNOWING that this day might come. Now, at the age of eighteen you WILL ascend the throne that I have minded in my brother’s steed, and you WILL rule with honor, with valor and with the COURAGE that befits a member of our family!”

Elstridge sighed deeply, mouthing the words that his mother had been repeating for the last three months whenever he brought up the topic. He knew she was right. Yet how could he tell her that it was not his right to rule? Or that he didn’t feel up to it. She wouldn’t understand.

“But…”

“I will brook no argument Elstridge! The ceremony begins in 15 minutes!”

The Prince gave up, his shoulders slumping forward. “Yes ma’am.”

***

Orion loved the palace. It was one of the few places where he had grown up, playing and then later pestering his older brother. Despite the seven year age difference and the many responsibilities that Cerion carried, the older of the two brothers always found time to spend with his little shadow; patiently explaining to him the intricacies of weather art or having water fights with equal facility. Indeed the palace staff encouraged such behavior, out of respect for Cerion’s father if nothing else, but also from a genuine affection for Orion, one that everyone seemed to have.

Cerion had a rather more adult view of the place, though he still loved it just as much as his brother. The receptacles for all knowledge and training pertaining to Weather arts may lie in the keep, but it was at the palace where the majority of Wind Weavers and Hydromancers met during the day, completing assignments for nobility, communicating with their Council Members and, of course, gossiping like the other palace denizens.

However for Cerion, this building was where he had found the one thing that he had always sought, a beautiful woman to spend his life with. Azreal.

“You’ve got that look again Cer.” Commented Orion as he held the door for his brother.

“You wouldn’t understand Orion.” Stated Azreal, even as her fiancé offered her his hand with a charming smile. Her dimples made a brief appearance as she continued, “you’re just a bit young.”

Cerion chuckled at the small scowl that crossed his brother’s face. Better then anyone he knew that his brother hated to be talked down to, and even at the age of 24, he still treated his younger brother as an equal in all things. That would hold even truer now.

“Don’t tease him Azreal; my brother wants to enjoy the night! You never know, tonight he could meet someone special. Or one of his many “friends”, you never know with this boy. ”

Orion strove mightily to keep from returning that comment with a sharp smack on his brother’s back, so much so that smoke began to trickle out his ears.

Azreal laughed in whimsical delight. “You look so cute Orion! Would you like work in our kitchen? You’d be a great stove!”

His angry front crumpled under his own humor and so instead the new Embermage decided to retreat with a parting shot. “I give up, how can one so young compete with two wise old Council members? Maybe inside I’ll meet a long lost sibling or someone to help me get you guys back.”

Azreal and Cerion laughed good naturedly, and Orion returned their smile. As they began their ascent up the stairs, the wind began to howl more fiercely.

“Say dear…” began Cerion, raising a hand to his hair. Orion began to laugh even as Azreal sighed. “No problems darling.” She muttered, rolling her eyes slightly, even as she smiled along with Orion.

With only a thought, Azreal began to weave a shield around them to block the gale. The barrier was almost complete when Orion’s head jerked up. “Do you hear that?”

Cerion glanced at his brother before returning his gaze to the pocket mirror that he carried. “Hear what?”

Suddenly something hit the top of Azreal’s Wind Bowl, and then with a pop, the entire structure dissolved, bringing in a fresh wave of cold air and a body that collapsed into the middle of the three of them.

“That, I guess,” Orion said.