This month's short story contest winner was
Sonodake titled
"How Finch Stole the Luck of the East Wind". The full harrowing adventure follows below and is well worth the read.
Also at this time I would like to give honorable mention to
Inkjet Printer on Sartok who found us via the official boards. You will find their submissions below
"How Finch Stole the Luck of the East Wind" at the bottom of this post. Poetry and art combined!
So without further adieu I give you Sonodake's
"How Finch Stole the Luck of the East Wind":
How Finch Stole The Luck of The East Wind Gather round, people! Come, hear the tale!
Yes, I am a Bard, do not look askance at me. There was a time when Bards of Telon were held in high esteem, when every King and Queen's court treasured those who plied the Silver Tongue & Golden Fingers. There was a time when a good song or tale was met and answered with food, drink, and benevolence. Unlike now, when we are shunned, scorned, and laughed at! Yet come, you be the judge. Is my tale worth a slap on the back and a plate of roasted chicken, as in the days of old? If ye pitch me nothing but the traditional crust of bread that is the 'Bard's Meal' nowadays, I will dip it into stank water and consider it a feast. And I'll be glad that the stomach is blind! I will tell no tale of the problems of the day. There is news of dire and woe, such that you will resent those who bring it. I am Bard enough to know when a crowd is weary of war and doom. Instead I will tell you a tale of when The Gods were young, and The World was young, and all young things had a small chance of becoming whatever they wanted to become! Tonight I will tell you the tale of young Finch, and how he tricked the Nym of the Eastern Wind and stole the spirit's only daughter to have for his own.
The Nym of the East Wind is Ocka-Nistra, and he is a powerful spirit of the air. He rules his part of the sky from a great, golden ship that sails upon the eastern oceans in a tempest of storm. Every summer he sets sail westward from Valakeness with the storms of Sihari at his bow. In his half-year voyage Nistra will grip the waters with fists of ice and heat until the very seas do his bidding. It is Nistra's breath that blows hot over the sands of Qalia, it is his spittle that drives the monsoons in Kojan, and it is his frigid stare that feeds the blizzards in Thestra. There are few who do not feel the vex of The Nym of The East Wind when he is upon the seas!
But we are talking a young Nistra, here. In the days of which I speak, the Kojani did not know what a monsoon was. The winds of Qalia were warm and life-giving, and the snows of Thestra were merely a light mantle that the world wore in the winter months. For, in those days, Nistra was content, and more than happy to meet his obligations to The Gods with compliance and favour. So it was until Finch came along;
'young Finch'. As any who have prayed to Finch would know well, Finch will get what he wants from you, whether he answers your prayer or not. He is not a 'just' god, he is an equal god. By that I mean that there is no good or evil with Finch, and to him, you don't equal squat! Compound that attitude about a thousand times, and you would have a 'young' Finch.
He knew of the four Nyms of The Winds, but they were well beneath his notice. Finch's sphere of influence held strictly to the souls of Telon. Nature was what he was imbibed with, not what he bestowed. And so Nistra's name came seldom to the lips of the God of Trickery. That is until the day The Nym of The East Wind gave unto the world of Telon his only daughter, for her mother was a woman born of the Kojani. On that day the lovely Kelani turned her sixteenth year, and Nistra came to her and said, "Go forth my child, and be happy. Because the Ban of Sihari bades not a place for thee in Valakeness, I cannot keep thee at my side. But know too, my gaze will ever be upon thee. And though my arms cannot hold thee safe, I give thee a thing to protect thee and save thee the hurt from the world. It is this much that I love thee, my Kelani."
The Nym of The East Wind gave to his daughter all of the luck that a demi-god of the air could possess. As a sea-lord and air spirit of Telon, Nistra's obligations were many, and his freedoms were few. He knew he could not be there to protect his precious daughter from the evils of Telon, and so he gave her his luck so that all of her adventures would end to her advantage. Little did Nistra know that all of his daughter's adventures would end with Finch.
Finch felt the luck as soon as it entered the soul of the half human/half demon girl known as Kelani. A human with the power that the girl now possessed could rule the world, his world. That luck could be exercised for him or against him, and Finch cared only that such luck flowed from his cards and no other's. From the moment the Nymph received her father's blessing it became Finch's aim to possess the fair Kelani. Finch could think of plenty of Gods and demi-gods who could use that kind of luck, but he could only think of one who benefited from Nistra's new lack of fortune. The demon Woecaller was aptly called 'The Lord of The Jinx' because he was the demi-god who opposed Luck in all it's forms. Woecaller was the spiritual embodiment of the wrong side of a coin flip, and his fortunes upon the eastern seas had suddenly risen with Nistra's blessing to his daughter. In the hierarchy among the Gods, Woecaller was an agent of Finch's.
The Prince of Thieves began to smile a wicked smile. And upon the eastern seas Nistra suffered such bouts of foul luck, a kind never seen by Man, Elf, nor Halfling. From scurvy among his loyal crew, to rot inside the great, golden ship, the bad luck deepened. No knot stayed tied, no sail stayed taut. Even his grip upon the tiller failed until the mighty Nym of the East Wind visited that most shameful of all sailor's luck, he ran aground. While the Sea-Lord mired in his humiliation, a cloaked and mysterious figure in a boat rowed to the rocks that Nistra's ship had impaled upon and he held a hand out to the Spirit of the Air. "I have thine hope, O mighty Sealord. Take my hand so that the stars above you may read true, again."
Nistra scowled, "If I leave this ship thou shalt have power over me, to do what thou will with the East Wind. I dare not go with thee, stranger."
"You have summoned Woecaller down upon yourself." the stranger said, "The East Wind blows fitfully, or not at all. Crops fail upon the fields, floods and drought beckon across the lands. You must set the stars aright, or risk losing control of the seas, themselves. Take my hand that I may set you apart from all that Woecaller does, and bless you to bring the East Winds as the Gods command."
Nistra could not free his ship, and bad luck assailed him by every word he uttered and through every deed he put his hand to. For a fortnight Nistra ignored the stranger and worked to loose the golden ship, to no avail. Finally Nistra turned to the cloaked figure and tiredly stretched out his hand. Finch seized the Nym and flew with him to Calaboss, his ancient fortress and seat of power. The God of Mischief threw Nistra into the deepest pit and there he made a darkness that Nistra could see no way out of. And so The Prince of Thieves left The Nym of The East Wind, because his entrapment of Nistra had brought about the scrutiny of Valus.
On high Valus, The Godess of The Just, called to Finch and bade him to appear before her. When her calls went unanswered, Valus grew wroth, and so she smote upon all the gold in Telon. Trinkets, coins, and all the works of gold that the souls of Telon had dug and smelted and built suddenly vibrated and echoed with the words of Valus, "STAND BEFORE ME, THIEF! OR ALL THE GOLD THAT THEE LOVES SO WELL SHALL BURN THEE FOREVERMORE!" And all across the world merchants emptied pockets of coins that suddenly became hot. Beautiful women clawed at necks and earlobes to release jewelry that burned their flesh. All that was gold was cast to the feet of the people of Telon, and all the people prayed to the gods to plead that this curse was not meant for them.
Finch heard the gold of the earth speak. The anger of Valus was the cue he had been waiting for. In a flash The God of Concealments appeared before his jurismark. "Release my element, Righteous One. I am here as you so command." With a smile and a flourish, Finch bowed before The Judge of The Gods. Valus cloaked herself in a stare of such contempt and coldness that all gods and godlings felt a chill. Slowly she let that stare rest upon The Prince of Thieves.
"You have imprisoned Nistra. If you do this to wrest control of the eastern winds, well, you are more a fool than I ever took you for, Finch."
"I seek not the Ring of The Eastern Stars, Valus. Rather - I would that Nistra give me a boon for my help in chasing Woecaller from his heels. And, for the record, the Nym came into my custody willingly"
Finch bowed again, yet the smirk in his eyes was not lost on Valus. The Judge of The Gods narrowed her own beautiful eyes
to a slit, "Woecaller is one of your minions, is he not?"
"Aye", Finch agreed with a wink and a nod, "But you know as well as I, Woecaller is ultimately governed by Luck. Luck is the third nature of life, and it is something we may not control. I cannot compell Woecaller to do anything that quarrels with his nature. Nistra brought The Jinx down upon his own head by his own actions, my minion did nothing unnatural in this matter." Finch tried to look indignant at the unspoken accusation, but smug was the best his face could manage.
Valus pounced. "And you, Finch? Did you do anything 'unnatural' in this matter?"
Like a schoolboy Finch stared lazily into the sky and roted. "Again, Nistra accepted my protection willingly. I have every right to beg a boon from the Nym, I have no intention of taking the Ring of The East from him. There is no cheat on the balance this time. So, may I just get on with it?" Finch finished innocently, but Valus trusted him less than hens trust a jackel.
"As you say, I cannot intercede. But mark my words, thief! If you move to take the Ring, I will make the gold that you prize hotter than the eyes of Haelufir!" With an angry wave of her hand, Finch was dismissed.
By now Nistra knew that Finch was his keeper. And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, what Finch was after - The Ring of The Eastern Stars. It was the token of all his authority, and all of his power. The Ring is what made him a named spirit of the wind. So when Finch spoke to him in the darkness and told him that he must give up his most prized possession to secure his freedom from both Finch and Woecaller, Nistra agreed readily. The Nym knew that the rest of The Gods would not stand for it, would never allow Finch to hold The Ring of The Eastern Stars. They would make war upon the thief, and restore Nistra to his office.
Finch told the Nym that he would take his prize once Nistra had put safely to sea. It wasn't until he was back aboard his golden ship and halfway to Valakeness before the terrifying truth dawned on The Nym of The East Wind. They say that the hurricane that Nistra blew up with his anger that day is the same ancient storm that sank the legendary Qalian city of Tamoria. But that is another story for another time.
Finch took Kelani to his stronghold in Calaboss, and there he put her in a tall tower made of ice upon the far reaches of The Rock of The Sky. She is still there today, guarded by the goblin Woecaller, Lord of the Jinx. There are still warriors today, of all stripes, that try to brave the terrors of Calaboss and assualt the ice tower, in hopes that the Nymph imprisoned there will bless their swords and bows with the luck of The East Wind. And Nistra blows hot across the deserts of Qalia, and he stares cold over Thestra, and he spits upon the Kojani. All because of Finch and the luck Nistra gave to his daughter.
-the end by M. von Lindern
AKA. Sonodake
And our runner up,
"Leth Nurae is Love":
Leth Nurae is love. As I enter the city, I can feel the Elven air caress my
flesh. It touches me like no other air and, for that, I offer myself to the
city. The winds call out to me to be its protector and I shall not let it down.
What is that, Leth Nurae? You wish me to seek and slay?
Slay whom, dear city?
The Kaon.
Faithful servant to Leth Nurae, I travel to the wretched Kaon fields. I seek
them. I slay them. I raise my weapon on high and taunt the evil ones. They
tremble as my warcries pierce the air, carried on the strong and virile Elven
winds.
"Kaon with your bad self," I say, "Kaon is not love! Kaon is not love!" And
I bring my dagger down into the wretched mist time and again. It knows not to
run away. It knows its fate is sealed. The Kaon shall die at my hand, by my
blade, cutting through the Elven winds. The winds that guide my swing.
The winds that call my name. The winds that provide my calling and direction.
The strong and virile Elven winds.
My mother would be proud. My father would be proud. If only they could be in
this field right now, standing beside me and watching how their son vanquishes
the foes of Leth Nurae. The beautiful city of Leth Nurae, with I as its
protector. Each Kaon Wretch drops to its death, wishing that the winds would carry
their spiritless and lifeless corpse off, but the Elven winds are not the
servant of the wretched. They are the chariot of the stalwart. They are the force
behind the brave. They are the guiding force to my dagger, my thoughts, and my
spirit.
Leth Nurae, fear nothing. Leth Nurae, I am your protector. Leth Nurae is my
guide.
Leth Nurae is love.
-Inkjet Printer on Sartok
Braavo to the winner, the runner up, and everyone who submitted an entry! And of course, stay tuned for next months
Vanguard Vault's "Monthly Short Story Contest"!
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