Fen & Crowbar

Delicately, she cradled the small bird in her hands. It was so frail, as if it had just fallen from its nest. But there were no trees around, just an endless plain withered grass and the vastness of the sky. It chirped weakly as she nestled it against her chest, within the folds of her robe. She would take care of it, do everything to help it recover. Above her, the martengales drifted beneath the azure sky. Fortunately, she had found it before they did. They would have eagerly made a snack out of it... Lifting her skirts, Fen hurried back to the Ouroboros. She would surely find something at home to feed it. But what did a bird eat, exactly? Seeds? Porridge? Milk? No, it wasn't a cat. Maybe she would need to find some insects or caterpillars. Old Berchad would know.

The Ouroboros had made a stop in the tundra, its ring positioned horizontally and turning slowly above her as she approached the Sahanka. She climbed the access ramp steps four at a time, greeting troubadours and herdsmen from the Clan who were returning with their flocks. Everyone was coming back. She needed to hurry. Soon, everyone would be busy getting ready to leave, and few would have time to answer her questions... She walked along the circus, throwing smiles to the aerialists, animal trainers, and clowns who stretched or worked outside the big top. They all looked pale, and they all gave her sad and sympathetic looks. Strange. Her heart suddenly began to beat a little faster, in tune with the small ball of feathers resting against her breast.

Her family's quarters were located at the prow of the ship. That was one of the perks of having a grandfather as a Shepherd. The great Cayrat Steinn, loved by all within the Clan! Every morning, she could wake up and have breakfast while contemplating the horizon from one of the bay windows. She crossed a gangplank overlooking the void, snatching a tomato from one of the hanging gardens and biting into it eagerly. Strangely, Gerda let her do it without complaining, even though she had clearly seen her. Normally, she would have scolded her. But Fen didn't have time to question it. The little bird was counting on her, she couldn't delay. Without further ado, she passed by the casino, closed at this time of day, and then climbed up towards the pigeon loft, where doves and flying martens cooed.

Lost in her thoughts, she crossed the gangway leading to her house. But she stopped short. In front of her, many people were waiting on the doorstep, their eyes dull and tearful. They stepped aside to let her pass, placing a hand on her shoulder or whispering a few words to her. Khaldun was there, as well as Jakob and Chalinda. Catalina wiped a tear, while Ajirai and Boona stared at the ground. It was more than bizarre. What did they all have? When she entered the living room, she saw that many other people had gathered. Cao took her hand and led her to her grandfather's room. In a corner of the room, Bastien was crying.

Esmeralda was at her grandfather's bedside, sitting on the edge of the bed, a tender smile painted on her face. The Eidolon lived like them, perpetually manifested. She had become one of them by constantly mingling with the Kasirga Clan. She shared their lives, and especially that of her grandfather, even though he was mortal, and she, a creature of the imagination. She was still as beautiful, and hadn't aged a day. Fen adored Esme. She was flamboyant, caring, strong-willed, but always ready to help. But Cayrat, he bore the weight of the years. Even though he remained a force of nature, his hair had turned gray, and his skin had become parchment-like. Recently, he had fallen ill, to the point of being bedridden…

A tear rolled down the Eidolon's cheek, and Fen felt like a dagger piercing her heart. Her grandfather lay there, eyes closed. He didn't move, and his complexion was dull. Large hands landed on the girl's shoulders and squeezed tightly. They were her father's. Fen stood there, open-mouthed, unable to look away. Even when her mother, her eyes blurred with tears, hugged her, she remained there, paralyzed. When the Matriarch and the venerables came to offer their condolences, Fen just looked at them, dazed, unable to grasp what was happening. She looked at her grandfather, waiting for him to sit up, to yawn loudly and burst into laughter at seeing all these mournful faces... But he did none of that.

When the news broke, it hit like a cleaver. The Matriarchs of all the Clans had conferred, and they condemned the decision to make an Eidolon the Shepherd of one of them. According to tradition, this role was reserved for a mortal, not an imaginary being. But what did it matter, in the end? The Matriarchs had proclaimed in the same breath a stinging ultimatum: if the Kasirga Clan persisted in pursuing this path, it would be banished from the Lyra alliance. Fen couldn't believe her ears. Exile, for such a trivial matter? She tried to convince their Matriarch to reconsider this decision, that this judgment was unfair. There had always been nine Clans among the Lyra. They were all different, but they had always been united. Together, they had sung the Song of One and saved Asgartha from ruin more than a century ago. They had to remain linked. That was their strength.

But nothing worked. Torn between her beloved's wish and the respect due to the Matriarchs, Esmeralda decided to entrust the fate of the Clan to the Kasirga elders. She would comply with their choices. And the venerables, whatever their reasons, insisted that she take the reins of their Sahanka. Fen couldn't believe it. Her grandfather's death, followed by such a rebuff... Once, all the Lyra could make their voices sound in unison. That's what the stories told, not so long ago. How could things have changed so much?

Esmeralda, accepting her charge, addressed the Clan to give them hope. If they were no longer welcome, perhaps it was time for them to find those who would greet them into their midst. She spoke of the Exiled Tribe, those among the Tumult Nomads who had chosen not to stay in Asgartha. They were surely somewhere within the Terra Incognita, traveling in a disrupted world. Maybe that's what the Wind was pushing them towards. Maybe that was the meaning of their banishment. With a little luck and resilience, they could join them. By participating in the Rediscovery Endeavor, they might be able to find their trace…

For the first time in decades, the Ouroboros set course for Arkaster, the capital of the entire peninsula. It would stay there until the Expeditionary Corps were ready to depart. Towards the open sea. Towards the tumultuous horizon. Fen, for her part, struggled to have this sentence lifted. But no one seemed to listen to her. The Song of One had been forgotten, its words lost. If she could get her hands on it, she could through it remind everyone of what they seemed to have unlearned. That they were linked, united, that they shared the same foundation, the same identity... But this hope was in vain. She had no idea where to look.

Getting used to urban life was difficult for her. But city life was not without its charm. Of course, she missed the vast spaces, but there was also in Arkaster an exhilarating cultural effervescence. With her friends, they founded a music group: she on vocals, Tamati on percussion, Boona on bass, and Orbec on keyboard. But there was also the Chimera, Crowbar. The scarecrow with a pumpkin head killed it on the guitar, able to send riffs as virtuosic as they were demonic. Together, they scoured the bars and concert halls. And little by little, they began to make a name for themselves. Fen's operatic vocals, against all odds, blended perfectly with Crowbar's exalted solos.

One day, as Nev staggered through the streets, Fen asked her why she had joined the exploration forces. Nevenka just shrugged, but cleverly turned the question back to her. And Fen told her about her Clan's situation, her dream of finding the Song of One. Nev, as naturally as could be, asked her why she didn't apply to be an Exalt too. She had a Chimera that followed her everywhere or almost everywhere, and anyway, she was going to leave Asgartha no matter what. And if she ever sought forgotten knowledge, perhaps the best way to do it was to find Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory and mother of the Muses. She would surely know, since technically, she remembered everything.

What initially seemed like a simple joke made its way into Fen's mind. Nevenka wasn't wrong, after all. The Matriarchs were each the voice of a Muse, and each Muse was the patroness of a Lyra Clan. If there was someone to impose her will on the Nine Sisters, it was her, their mother. When she returned from her trip, she tapped Crowbar's pumpkin head. His eyes lit up and turned to her as he woke up. Was she crazy to consider what Nevenka had told her? The scarecrow scratched his head. He confided in her that there was nothing better than aiming as high as possible, because those who don't aim for the stars have no chance of reaching them. At that moment, the window of the house creaked open in a gust of wind. A smile lit up Fen's face. The Wind had just spoken.