That... that can't be right. Frosti stared down at the passage in the book she was reading.
The staff sat on the table beside her. She had been keeping it in her private study, away from her brother's reach. Ever since, she had been trying to figure out where it came from and what kinds of powers it had.
At first, she thought that it might have just been something some adventurer dropped in the cave. The more she researched, though, the more one thing stuck out to her. Everyone in Altairus knew of the War of the Wendigoes, of the six champions who stood up for them all. But Frosti had never bothered to really read the history of the War. Particularly the descriptions of the six Fragments of Anima.
That was what stuck with her now. The staff bore an uncanny resemblance to how the Air staff Stormbringer was described in the book. She looked back over at it. It's made of blackmetal, it has the same gemstone in the center, it has the same three jagged blades... Was it really possible...?
No. She read on. Stormbringer had been blasted across Altairus along with the other Anima Fragments. There was no way it could have ended up on Tempest Island, could it? After all, Stormbringer was created on Tempest Island. That it would land back there and end up deep within a cave didn't seem particularly likely to her. And besides, Air magic didn't glow green, did it?
Frosti sighed. If it wasn't Stormbringer, it obviously was still a very powerful staff. Jack Thunder's little stunt back in the Emerald Woodland was proof of that. She placed the staff back on a rack on the wall in her study, then left and locked the door behind her. She could figure this out later. What was important now was that he didn't get his hands on it again.
"Some days, the sky turns dark, and the sun fades out of sight. When you feel yourself sinking down, that is when you must take flight..."
Jack Thunder was singing to himself as he floated past Tempest Island on a moody rain cloud. He didn't really feel like working on his magical studies today. In fact, he didn't really feel like doing anything right now. He couldn't stop thinking about how badly his attempt to end the drought in the Emerald Woodland the other day had gone. Frosti had warned him about the staff, and he hadn't listened. And because of that, he nearly destroyed the forest. Now the staff was sitting in Frosti's study. He wasn't allowed to even go near it. Of all the failures and frustrations his studies had caused him, none of them were ever as shame-inducing as this one. How was he supposed to move on and keep working as if it had never happened?
That's why he was here. Lying on a rain cloud and floating through the sky, singing himself the song he'd made up in an attempt to cheer himself up. He wasn't really paying attention to what was on the ground, so you can imagine his surprise when a sudden cry came out of nowhere.
"Huh? What was that?" he asked no one in particular as he jolted up to a sitting position.
He looked around, but couldn't see anything. I know I heard something. Now, what did I hear?
Another cry. This one coming from his left. He peered over the side of his cloud to locate the source of the noise.
What he saw prompted him to fly straight down to the surface of the island and dispel the cloud he'd been riding on, his prior gloom all but forgotten.
Lying on the ground was a weather wyvern whelp, too young to fly back to safety. It seemed to have fallen from its nest and was now crying out for its mother.
Jack Thunder ducked behind a nearby rock. He knew that it was dangerous to approach a weather wyvern whelp, and he didn't want to risk getting attacked by an angry mama wyvern. Powerful magical artifacts were one thing; getting torn to pieces was quite another. He just wanted to make sure the mama came back so that he didn't have to worry any more.
But as time passed, the storm gremlin came to think more and more that the whelp had been abandoned. He didn't even see any other weather wyverns in the sky, let alone trying to rescue the whelp. He knew that he couldn't raise it by himself, but he couldn't just leave it, either.
Slowly, tenuously, he inched towards the whelp. It heard him approaching and turned around. It backed itself up, glaring and hissing at him, until it backed itself up against a boulder. Jack Thunder was undeterred; he continued to stroll towards the whelp, trying not to make any sudden movements. The whelp grew more frantic at first, hissing and snapping in the gremlin's direction. Jack Thunder instinctively stopped; he didn't want to risk getting bitten. So what should he do?
He remembered something from one of his spell books. It was a hypnotic spell, designed to soothe angry or scared animals. It was a simple spell, having no incantation, but an effective one. He held out his left hand, closing his eyes and focusing on calming his nerves. It worked, and a greenish aura began to shine around his hand. One wave of said hand later, and the aura dissipated.
The effect was immediate. The whelp immediately stopped hissing and snapping. Its muscles relaxed and it slumped to the ground. Only a scant minute later, and it was completely asleep.
With what strength he could muster, Jack Thunder picked up the whelp that was nearly as big as he was and hoisted it onto a new cloud that he formed. Once again, he soared high in the sky. Getting the whelp out of danger was the easy part. Now, he just needed to find someone to take care of it.
San knew he had to go the moment he saw the signs.
He thought he'd never have to deal with this ever again. After the War, everyone seemed so ecstatic. They held him up as a hero, just like with the others. It made him sick; they never could be bothered to care about him when he was a lowly outcast, and now they were worshiping him? All because he was useful to them now?
Truth be told, he never saw himself as extraordinary. He was just doing what he needed to do to save himself and his home. Perhaps in recognition of this, he never gave himself a proper name even after the War. He only referred to himself by the number of the order he hatched in for his clutch. He had fled to the frozen peaks of the Razorfrost mountain range, intent on living out the rest of his days in isolation. He made his nest on an icy peak, subsisting on wild berries and roots. As much as he struggled with hunger every single day, he knew that it was better than facing them and their insipid praise.
But when he saw the looming threat on the horizon, one that threatened to be the end of Altairus once and for all, all that didn't matter. It didn't matter that he hadn't seen any other Altairians in eleven years, it didn't matter that his sparse diet whittled his figure down to nothing. Altairus was more important.
That's why he was here. He could sense a strong presence here, one greater than Tempest Island's native Air magic could produce on its own. No, this was different. Though he couldn't tell for sure, he thought that the strong energy may be coming from his old staff.
San snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a voice shouting at him. He looked up. Atop a small cloud was a little storm gremlin, and he was yelling and waving at him.
"What seems to be the matter, little gremlin?" San shouted back.
The cloud descended until it dissipated on the ground. Standing in front of San was the storm gremlin, adorned in a pine green jumpsuit and rainforest green gloves and boots, staring pleadingly at him. On the ground in front of him was a purple weather wyvern whelp, curled up and fast asleep.
"I found him near the mountain! I don't know how he got there, but he needs help! His mama didn't come back for him; I think he's an orphan!" the storm gremlin continued to babble frantically, overloading the older tengu with information. From what San could tell, though, the storm gremlin had found an orphaned whelp and was looking for someone to help him take care of it. He knelt down and inspected the whelp for any signs of ill health.
From what he could tell, the whelp was more or less healthy. Maybe a bit undernourished, but it didn't seem to have any severe wounds or infections. Nothing he couldn't handle. He picked up the whelp and placed it in his arms.
"Where do you live?" he asked the storm gremlin. The storm gremlin turned and motioned towards a village of stone huts. This must be the storm gremlin village, San thought. He followed the gremlin to the center of the village. The two of them stopped near the center of the village in front of one of the huts.
"I live here. I just need to get Frosti out here." He began calling out. "Frosti! Frosti! Please come out! We need your help!"
Frosti emerged from the doorway. "What is it now, Jackie?" She looked up and was startled at the sight of the tengu at the door, holding a baby weather wyvern in his arms. "Ah! Oh... Uh... Never seen you in these parts before..."
Jack Thunder jumped to explain. "He was just wandering around the island! I found this weather wyvern that had been abandoned, and I wanted to find someone who could help me raise it. He seemed kind enough, so I wanted to bring him here to see what else we could do."
Frosti looked back up at the tengu, who nodded to confirm. "I'm sorry to bother you. I don't come from around here. I came back here to see if I could find the Stormbringer. The Heart of Darkness may yet be on the horizon, and I'll need it if I want to stand a chance against it again."
The Heart of Darkness? Hadn't the Heart of Darkness been banished years ago? That's what Jack Thunder read in his storybooks anyway. So why was this tengu saying that it was on the horizon?
"Well, Jackie here did find a strange staff in one of the caves on Mt. Tempest a few days ago. It looks an awful lot like how Stormbringer is described, but I doubt that it's actually Stormbringer."
"But what about the wyvern?" Jack Thunder interjected.
The two continued to talk over him. "A staff in a cave? Can I take a look at it? I hate to ask this of you, but this is important."
"But... the wyvern..." Jack Thunder was starting to get irritated.
"Well, it's not like we have any use for it now. I forbade Jackie from using it again, and it's just sitting in my study right now-"
"GUYS!! WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO ABOUT THE WYVERN?!"
Now he got their attention. Both of them were looking at Jack Thunder. Frosti glared at him.
"Jackie, we're having a conversation right now! Don't interrupt!"
"No. No, he's right. We need to figure out what to do with this whelp here," San interjected. The whelp stirred, then rolled over in his arms.
All three of them exchanged glances for the longest time. No one knew what to say. Finally, Frosti broke the silence. "Alright. Jackie, I'll let you help raise the wyvern on one condition." She looked at San. "I want you to be in charge of raising it, and I want Jack Thunder to help you. He doesn't always think about the consequences of his actions before he does them, so I want you to be in charge. Can you do that for him?"
