Young Writers Society

Author's Notes: 1,475 words.  Three things: 1. As if she was going to help him get away.  2. "Avian features" could be interpreted in two different ways.  3. I wonder how many words I could cut out of this.

It was finally nighttime at the castle. A faint wind blew over the spiraling towers as soldiers flew and kept watch in their air, sharp eyes scanning over the quaint and small houses and marketplaces of the surrounding city for anything out of the ordinary. From the east-facing side of the central mansion, a long, rectangular fountain extended towards one of the massive wooden castle gates, which was presently closed. Water slowly trickled from stone statues of young men with pails as soldiers marched about the magnificently carved fountain façade. The light of torches flickered in the area as guards passed among rows of neatly trimmed hedges, stomping along the grass by fruit trees. The atmosphere was dark, quiet, and neat. The proper security measures had been taken in the potential of an intrusion, and the lack of activity thus far did not indicate there would be any. Of course, nobody in the castle could've expected that somebody would be trying to break out, rather than in.

Yorew, Eremia, and Jonah crouched underneath the stony rim of the balcony, which itself resembled a small tower's top, the conical structure replaced with that of alternating raised and lowered stone formations. The boy, of course, kept his knife close to Eremia, who now wore the loose-fitting robes tied around her waist. It would've been far easier to breathe if she wasn't so nervous and sweaty, though on the verge of a panic attack.

Their servant peaked out to view the paths of the guards, evident by the dim lights of their torches. Satisfied by what he saw, he turned to the siblings and nodded. Jonah inched his knife closer to his sister's neck, but hesitated when he heard a slowly building gust of wind from the east. A smug smile appeared as he saw his sister's forehead wrinkle in concentration, and the trees began to sway ever so slightly. Eremia was always most skilled at wind magic. Though the breeze wavered and shook, Jonah knew enough to know that was her nerves, which only amused him more. She had always been the confident and firm one, and seeing her reduced to this gave him some sort of satisfaction.

There was murmuring among the guards, yet not much of a strong response. None of them were close enough to the focal point of the wind, which was starting to blow across Eremia's outfit in ripples and shake Jonah's hair. "Don't spend too long," he hissed at her as the wind grew stronger. He had to bend right next to her ear to be heard. "It just needs to be enough to soften our fall, not carry us down."

After a few seconds, the strong breeze steadied. It was capable enough to influence Jonah's steadiness and stability but slightly, and had no impact on either of the others but wave about their outfits slight. No severe response from the guards. All was according to plan. He grasped his sister's hand with the one not holding his knife, and the two, together, with Jonah pulling his sister, placed a foot precariously over the edge of the balcony. Her eyes closed, and locked in concentration, Eremia gave no response, but Jonah himself was rather surprised by the way his foot felt decently stable atop the column of produced wind, which was now acting like a miniaturized, localized tornado. It was condense enough to help them float fairly easily onto the ground, but not strong or widespread enough so for the guards to take severe notice. As far as they were concerned, it was a typical breeze from the Pillars of the World.

Yorew joined them, and all took a literal leap of faith as they placed their other foot over the balcony and let go. Now they were falling, but only slowly. Jonah breathed a sigh of relief, but it was cut short when he saw his sister make a small incantation. "Creator of Mine, gift upon me that which I have been given," she murmured. His eyes widened in horror, and he pulled the both of them away from their view of the gardens and exterior walls, so that they would face the mansion's cobblestone walls. Yorew did the same before the column of air doubled in strength and loudness, making it easily visible to all neighboring observers. Jonah could hear the flickering and death of torches while guards shouted and scrambled to see what was happening. Those in the air were likely being buffeted by the winds and couldn't approach, but that didn't mean they hadn't been caught. Why, in the name of The Creator, did he place this much trust in his sister?

"Stop!" cried a voice from below, battered by the din and slightly shaky from surprise. "I am Carnell, the lead guard of the defenders of The 9th King Renatus. Speak your identities and purposes now, and no harm shall come to you!"

Jonah's pupils widened, and he turned upon Eremia with a knife, pressing it gently against her throat. "Stop, foolish girl! Would you rather die then let your brother be happy for one in his miserable life?" He stifled a scream when he saw a drop of blood drip from his sister, yet the girl was adamant. Her breathing was ragged, she was evidently sweating, and her face was dreadfully pale. But, Eremia was now the most determined and bravest person he had ever seen, and he had to stop her. By whatever means he could muster that wouldn't leave him with a dead sister and ally.

"Princess," he grumbled at her through gritted teeth, "stop this folly, or I'll have Yorew strangle you, and use your body as a shield. Don't you dare betray your own brother."

"You...don't mean that," she whispered, a tear dripping from her face as she saw right through his lie. "He...wouldn't do that." The servant did not move or respond. "I...will not do it....even for you." Her voice was scratchy and distracted, but the words were heavy.

"Who are you?" bellowed the lead guard again, with an even less steady voice. As the trees began to sway more, and the platform of air grew more stable and steadfast, the resulting of armor and retreating of foosteps indicated that the other guards had decided to leave their posts in terror, convinced in their doom. Carnell's loud and frustrated shouting of, "Fools! Damnable idiots! How dare you betray your King!" confirmed this.

Jonah couldn't help but surmise, in this situation, that Carnell was truly an idiot. Who would indicate that his fellow soldiers had fled, much less name himself and his importance, as though to make himself a greater target to strike? Still, as they gradually descended, the boy noticed from an aside glance that the armored man's torch cast only dim shadows upon them, which themselves were swallowed up by the night. As long as they did not face him, he would not have any idea of who they are, particularly as he doubted that this man knew their appearances all that well. Now was the time for quick thinking, and Jonah quickly reached for the nearest story in his mind. He despised it, as he didn't have much respect for the main character or his military strategies and prudish behavior, but it would do to give him a few more essential seconds.

Moving the knife away from Eremia, the child boomed in his loudest and most impressive voice, "Who dares threaten the Lord of Exedor, Joseph Renatus!? I have founded this house, helped build it with my own two hands, and led my people from the jungles of their origin to build a new home for us. With the assistance of my loyal Marble Knights, I have come to bring my judgment upon the people of this mortal world, and thrust myself free from the chains that have bound me to this world. How may you challenge the whims of the Creator?"

The man was dumbstruck, and stammered in confusion as he neared with his torch. "What...what...how...are you...?" After a few seconds of silence, he began to shout. "You! Stop! I do not think that the First Lord Exedor would have the appearance of a child. Are you the King's--?"

"Oh, Creator, bless me with the powers that I have been gifted," whispered Jonah, feeling a surge of energy pour through his body and into the girl's. It revitalized her and brought color to her face, yet she refused to open her eyes or even look at her brother, nor stopped the sudden onset of slight twitching and sweating. However, she did try to resist when he pulled her hand back, but the movement was too quick for her, and her eyes popped open in horror as the pillar of air exploded outwards from beneath their feet.