CHAPTER 123: WHISPERS ON THE CURRENT

Eirin tried calling Feya more than ten times, her pleas echoing in the vast, open sky, but her tiny, ever-present companion didn’t appear. No shimmering dust, no mischievous giggle, no familiar tug on her hair. Feya was gone, and Eirin, adrift on a nest in the sky, felt a fresh wave of terrifying isolation wash over her.

Eirin gnawed at her fingernails, the habit more noticeable, more violent than usual. The sound, a faint clicking against the rushing wind, was a small, desperate rhythm against the vast silence of the sky. Anxiousness, cold and sharp, clawed at her insides. Feya’s continued silence, her alarming absence, chomped at Eirin’s heart, a deep, unsettling fear for her little companion’s safety.

"Who are you calling, dear child?" Leva’s voice, telepathic and soothing, resonated in Eirin’s mind, pulling her from the edge of her mounting panic.

The teenage girl’s eyes landed on Leva, her massive head tilted, her ocean-blue eyes observing Eirin. Eirin then looked at her hands, still trembling slightly. She took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to regain her composure, and then, with a conscious effort, she raised her hands, extending her palm.

A familiar swirl of translucent wind began to gather, condensing into a miniature vortex in her palm, perfectly controlled, responsive. Her forehead creased, confusion filled her head. Her Flair was still useful, fully functional, vibrating with familiar energy. So how, then, could her companion, Feya, remain unresponsive? Feya once said that she relies on Eirin’s mana. The situation was baffling, deepening Eirin’s unease.

"Our kin need your help, child." Leva’s plea, gentle yet urgent, broke into Eirin’s spiraling thoughts.

Eirin didn’t even know if she was truly capable of helping this majestic, ancient bird, let alone an entire race of them. She, a girl who barely understood her own nascent powers, a girl who had only just discovered her Flair. "But I don’t know how to help, Leva. I don’t know how I helped you either," she admitted, her voice small, a fragile thread against the immense sky. She felt a sense of inadequacy, a paralyzing fear of failure.

"Whatever you do, do not stop breathing."

Scarlett Jenkin’s words, a distant memory from that time when she stayed in that dark chamber from the hidden village of Dalry, echoed in Eirin’s head, suddenly clear, a guiding light through the swirling confusion.

"Just keep breathing," Eirin said aloud, the words a whispered mantra, her breath growing heavier, more deliberate, as she stared at her palms, at the swirling wind in her hand. A quiet determination began to harden her resolve. The fear was still there, a cold knot in her stomach, but it was now overshadowed by a sense of purpose, a desperate need to help. "I am willing to help, Leva. I will try. Are they close from here?"

Leva nodded her enormous head, her eyes fixed on Eirin. "Get on, child. I shall bring you to them." Eirin, without hesitation, swung her leg over Leva’s back, her hands instinctively grasping for hold. The lavender feathers, which she had half-expected to be coarse or spiky, given the bird’s immense size, were surprisingly soft and smooth beneath her fingertips, like the finest silk, yet incredibly strong.

The warmth radiating from Leva’s body seeped into Eirin’s skin, a comforting anchor against the vast, cold air. "Hold on tight," Leva warned, her voice resonating through Eirin’s very bones. With a powerful beat of her colossal wings, the bird ascended into the sky, launching herself from the nest with a magnificent, silent surge.

The wind was a living force, a physical presence, slapping Eirin’s face with fierce, exhilarating force, tearing at her hair and clothes. It threated to rip her from Leva’s back. She leaned her body closer, pressing herself against Leva’s warm, feathered back, burying her face slightly into the soft plumes. As if sensing her need, Leva’s massive feathers, a vibrant purple, shifted and rose, forming a natural, sheltering shield around Eirin, protecting her from the relentless, powerful currents.

"We’re going faster now, little one," Leva’s voice echoed in Eirin’s mind, tinged with a playful excitement.

Eirin found herself smiling unconsciously, a wide, genuine grind spreading across her face, a pure, unfiltered thrill. It was her childhood dream, a fantasy she had never dared to voice aloud, to fly freely in the air, soaring above the world, relaxed and unburdened. It was a dream she never, in her wildest imaginations, expected to come true. Yet here she was, clinging to the back of a giant, sentient bird, traversing an endless sky.

Eirin’s heart began beating faster, not due to fear, but due to an overwhelming, exhilarating excitement that bubbled up from deep within her chest. It was a sensation of pure joy, of liberation.

As if the wind was just seeping through her, becoming a part of her, she could feel its chilling, refreshing effect against her skin, a crisp caress. She looked up into the boundless blue expanse, and a wide, blissful smile formed on her face. She had never felt this much freedom ever before in her life. The world, stretched out beneath them, was a vast, cloud-filled canvas, and she was soaring through it.

"I see it now, child. Your main affinity is wind, yes?" Leva’s voice resonated in Eirin’s mind, a soft knowing chuckle accompanying the question, amused by the sheer innocence Eirin was showing, the childlike wonder that radiated from her. "Do you not wish to fly yourself, dear child? To feel the wind truly lift you, to command it?"

Eirin tilted her head, her smile faltering, replaced by a flicker of curiosity. "Am I capable of doing that? I mean, fly? Like truly fly, not just be carried?" The thought had never occurred to her as a possibility for herself.

Leva chuckled, a sound that resonated deep in Eirin’s consciousness, her voice sounding sweet and soft, filled with wisdom. "Of course, little one. It is your skill right, as one with such a powerful connection to the currents. Have you not learned it before? To embrace the elements and let it flow through you?"

Eirin shook her head, her gaze sweeping across the endless cloudscape, her mind replaying fleeting images. It reminded her of how Pierre and Shade used the wind as if they were part of it, not merely manipulating it, but moving with it, breathing it. Their mastery, though she had admired it, had felt unattainable.

"No, Leva. I’m still new to this place, to Flair, to everything," Eirin confessed, her voice tinged with a hint of embarrassment at her ignorance. This honest admission seemed to delight Leva even further, for the bird began to laugh. Not a gentle chuckle this time, but full, unrestrained laughter that vibrated through Eirin’s very core, a sound like rustling leaves and distant thunder.

"You amuse me, child. You truly do," Leva said, her laughter subsiding to a soft hum. "You say you’re new to this place, to this world, but your mana is as ancient as me." Leva’s words caused Eirin’s eyes to flicker in confusion. Her mana was ancient? What did that even mean? She was just sixteen.

"Is that your way of saying that I’m old, Leva?" Eirin chuckled, a nervous, self-deprecating sound, completely unaware of the bird’s deeper intention, its statement about her true nature. "Does being sixteen make me old in this place? Is that how it works for this world?"

Leva chuckled again, a softer sound this time. "No, little one. It does not. Sixteen is but a blink in the vastness of time. But you are not sixteen, dear child, not in the way you perceive." Her words kept Eirin completely in the dark, lost in a swirling fog of confusion, her mind unable to grasp the enormity of what Leva was implying.

But Eirin, overwhelmed by the strangeness of her situation and the urgency of their mission, decided not to make a big deal out of it, filing it away for later. Perhaps it was a riddle, or a figure of speech.

"There. That’s where the others are," Leva announced, her tone shifting, becoming serious, pulling Eirin’s attention back to the present, to the perilous task at hand.

Eirin looked directly in front of them, her gaze following Leva’s subtle mental direction. What she saw made her breath catch in her throat.

Far in the distance, yet drawing closer with terrifying speed, was a sight that chilled her to the bone. Atop, a jagged, impossibly tall mountain peak, a swirling, malevolent sphere of what looked like a ball of black wind consumed the summit. It pulsed with an oppressive, tangible darkness, a visible manifestation of pure miasma.

There was no discernible entrance, no path or opening into its heart. Even though they were still far from it, a strange, sickening pull emanated from the black vortex, a subtle yet insistent force trying to draw them towards it, like a hungry maw. It felt like a void, an absence of light and hope.

"If I get too close to that miasma, I will be tainted by it once again," Leva said, her voice filled with a tremor of fear, a memory of the torment she had just endured. She slowed her flight, positioning them at a careful, precise distance, just right from the edge of the swirling corruption, where the air was still clear.

"But if you join me into its heart, if you lend me your ability, I might be able to fight the corruption. To remain myself, and guide you through."