Birds of a Feather: Ylisse, part I

         Across the countryside, heavy clouds hung uncertainly in the sky, a depressing gray against the verdant green of the hills. All life seemed to retreat to shelter and watched with curious eyes as those menacing clouds threatened to unleash torrential rains upon everything below. From the south, a breeze carried the scent of salt from the distant sea over the grasslands and to the wild forests beyond. The air felt heavy, compressed by the weight of the clouds high above. The sun made no attempt to give warmth that day, as if beaten by the dark gray mass of water vapor hanging in the air.

         A single road wound through the countryside, well traveled by fishermen and merchants from the coast and strangers from the cities farther inland. That day, only one lone figure walked the dirt road, though whether defiant or uncaring of the coming storm, no one knew. He was dressed in a heavy travel coat made of fine materials, if generally unremarkable in design. The man under the coat was by no means unremarkable by any standard. Certainly, he was at least a head taller than most sailors on the coast, with a sturdy build that dissuaded even the most intoxicated of them from a brawl. He had never cared for conflict, anyway. He had a generally canine appearance, with glossy gold and black fur that always set in such a manner that gave him the appearance of a shepherd. Underneath the brim of his hat, his eyes glinted with determination. Many who met him face to face had described his eyes as something akin to polished amethyst with starry flecks of white that swirled like stars against a violet sky. He was a rare breed of man; a Keeper, as the people of the southlands called his kind.

         A few drops of water began to fall, heralds of the coming rainstorm. The man paused only briefly to hold out a hand and confirm the onset of the rain. He reached in his pocket and produced a brass pocket watch that bore an angel upon its cover. After examining it and checking the time, he returned the item to his pocket and continued his journey. The farther he traveled upon the road, the more nature tried to turn him from his walk. Gusts of wind began to whip at his coat, lashing at him with a cold anger. Rain began to fall heavily on the hills, crashing down around the Keeper with a roar. He was not to be dissuaded from his appointed task and pressed on, defiant of the storm.

         Night had fallen by the time the man had reached his destination. He looked up at the wrought-iron gate before him. A flash of lightning illuminated the crest worked carefully into the black metal. The Keeper paused and stared at the crest, memories of a time long ago calling out to him across the ages. Beyond the gate stood a large house, well lit and welcoming in light of the storm. The man walked through the gate, pushing aside those memories for now and intent on returning to the familiar comfort of his home.

         At the door stood a larger woman, holding out a lantern in patient anticipation of the Keeper's return. The flame illuminated her deep brown fur and amber eyes. She wore an apron over a simple dress that was patched in a few places. Her feline features were reminiscent of the lions that roamed the plains far away in the distant past. A collar was affixed around her neck, though she hardly seemed to notice its presence as she watched the man approach. Her free hand found its way to her hip and a small frown crossed her lips.

         "There you are!" she called over the pounding rain. "I was fixin' to send ol' Ereden out lookin' for you."

         The man stood a few paces away, still being soaked from above. After a long minute of silence between the two, the faint indication of a smile crossed his face and he walked the final few steps into the house.

         "A fine evening to you, as well, Matier," the Keeper said calmly, removing his overcoat and hat. "I trust that you called everyone in from work early today?"

         Matier extinguished the lantern and gave him a stern look. The man was used to receiving this look from her. He looked back at the lioness and raised an eyebrow, expecting her answer.

         "Yes, mister Mathis," she replied at last. "How did th' meetin' go in town?"

         Mathis looked idly at a flower vase on a nearby side table, recalling the events of the last few days as he gazed upon the delicate petals. He found himself walking to examine them closer, apparently taking a sudden interest in them. Matier rolled her eyes and shook her head, familiar (and occasionally impatient) with her master's slow responses to her questions. She was convinced that he did it for the sake of getting a reaction to his servant, and found herself prying just to get him to even make small talk most days. After several years in his service, she had grown accustomed to this ritual and knew that he would respond eventually.

         "Not well, I fear," Mathis sighed, choosing the quietest moment he could to respond. "The merchants have decided that demand is very low for the amount of produce that we are sending to market. I did manage to convince them to pay a little more than they quoted. I pray that it is enough to hold us through the season."

         He gently brushed the stem of one of the flowers with the back of his index finger, apparently fascinated by its texture. Matier waited patiently for her master to continue. She knew the game he played. Invariably, he would continue his story just before she asked him to. At one time, she had assumed that he could read her mind, but had given up on that idea as folly. Not even a Keeper could read a person's thoughts, she reminded herself. Tiring of the chase, she opened her mouth and took a breath to reply. As if on cue, Mathis spoke again.

         "But I did manage to find a truly rare gem yesterday," he continued, looking back at Matier with a glint in his starry eyes. "An unusual girl. She looked as if she would be more at home in the sky than bound to the earth with her chains. Had I not known better, I would assume she was from another world. She looked... miserable. I saw something else, as well. The man holding her chain. I know him. And I fear for her safety with him. He does not know what sort of treasure he has on his hands."

         A look of surprise hung on Matier's face, quickly replaced by her usual motherly kindness.

         "You want to save her, don't you?" she asks, recognizing the fire in Mathis' eyes. "I thought so."

         Mathis stood up, standing much taller than his housekeeper, who had to look up to see his eyes.

         "I am going to bed, Matier," he announced. "I expect I will be gone again soon to look into the situation."

         "Yessir," Matier replied dutifully, bowing a little to her master as he retired to his room. When Mathis was out of sight, the lioness looked out of a nearby window and sighed to herself. Lightning split the sky, illuminating the clouds. In the brief light, she spotted a raven perched on the fence. When the lightning again crashed across the sky, the dark bird was gone.

         "That's a bad omen, darlin'. I jus' hope you know what you're doin'..."