"Quite interesting wedding ceremony", Zook said to Zaak, the Clan Tariz-Dav's younger prince -- the same who had been serving refreshments in the welcoming hall of the palace -- as the two were walking through twisting corridors, heading for the Nest of the great hawks.

The smaller Awai nodded. "Looks like Deek decided to take some profit of the situation."

"Queen Deek", Zook corrected. In the complicated hierarchy of the Awai there were some titles which must never be left unmentioned. For even such a little fault the youth would have gotten a hefty flap into the back of his head, but tolerant (by Awai standards, that is) Zook liked that feature in this prince. The lad had simply said the truth. The Queen of the Clan Riik-Kit had attacked the Clan Tariz-Dav in a form allowed by the honor and the law.

"You do not seem to be very worried", the wizard noted. "Your own brother is in danger!"

The prince glanced at Zook. "My egg brother", he corrected. "Kaaz and I hatched in the same day. He hatched eleven years earlier than I did, but that doesn't change the fact that we hatched in the same day. We are egg brothers."

They were silent for a few doorways.

"You do not look much like Kaaz", Zook dared to mention.

Zaak shrugged. "Two chips from the same tree do not necessarily look the same."

Zook shook his head. "A bad comparison."

Both of them chuckled in the ear-hurting, high-pitched laughter of the Awai. Then the prince shrugged again. "Oh well, I believe he will defend his honor with success. He's already a grey knight. Some say that he is cut to be a Black Talon." The wizard could feel how a drop of pride spread out into the air.

Suddenly the prince's gaze turned from the corridor before them and was fixed somewhere in the direction of the brooch holding Zook's cloak in place. "Honorable Kooz. Wasn't --" the wizard's gaze was a hint enough, "--isn't he your egg brother?"

Zook just nodded, and Zaak understood that the wizard was not very eager to talk about the subject. A guard standing in a crossing of four passages stomped the blunt head of his spear against the floor as he made a salute to the prince. The youth waved his hand into a greeting, which most Awai considered to be irritatingly informal.

They walked in silence for several crossings and doorways. Then Zook finally said: "Let us hurry. My Queen does not especially like delays and I've already enjoyed your hospitality for too long."

The prince nodded and they quickened their steps. Their clawed feet clicked against the stone plates. In such a small corridor nobody had bothered to cover the floor with a soft carpet, so the stone flooring was covered with tiny scratches and claw marks.

"By the way, if you wish to learn something", Zook said as the two entered into an enormous chamber with one wall opening into a ledge over the breath-taking view of the White Heights. The prince stopped and turned to listen. "Ask Kaaz to teach you. The connection between the egg brothers help the passing of knowledge."

Zaak opened his beak and said something. His words, however, were quelled by the shout of Dagodei as the great hawk greeted its master from its resting-place, a ledge upper in the chamber. Zook suspected that the prince had said "I take it you're speaking with experience", or something as daring, but he let the subject drop.

The wizard tapped the prince's shoulder as Dagodei landed -- with a grace that denied its huge size -- next to them. "Thank you for the dinner", Zook said as he drew himself onto the back of the noble bird. The mount was about to swoop into the air immediately, but the wizard kept it in a check for a moment longer. He waved his hand at the younger Awai. "And wish luck to Kaaz for me, too."

* * * *

The two guards, who were standing in their posts before the doors of the throne room of the palace Thirai-Thoot, snapped into attention as their court wizard suddenly appeared -- escorted by a blue flash and a puff of smoke -- into the middle of the empty corridor. After the first shock had passed, one of the warriors announced: "The Queen is waiting for you, Court Wizard Zook."

"Make way, then", the wizard replied without further small talk. It was clear that he was on a bad mood, and both of the guards understood it well. Nimbly they pulled the double door open and with a loud voice announced together: "Zook Thirai-Thoot, the Court Wizard of the Clan Thirai-Thoot!"

The wizard put a small rock, glowing with a dim, blue aura, into his pocked from his hands. Then he quickly stepped through the doors, which were closed behind him just as nimbly as they had been opened. Not fast enough, however, for the guards not to hear Queen Zaat's greetings to her Court Wizard: "Once again into my throne room with your clothes smelling like sulfur…?"

One of the guards shook his head to his companion as the doors boomed shut. "Wizards", he said.

The other guard nodded.

* * * *

"You are late", Queen Zaat Thirai-Thoot stated. Her voice was ominously calm.

"My apologies, my Queen", Zook said as he bowed and snapped his beak with the claws of his both hands. "The youngest of the Clan Tariz-Dav invited me to have a dinner with him and when I was returning here, Dagodei insisted to go for a hunt."

Zook would certainly have continued his explanations a little longer, but Zaat waved her hand and said bluntly: "Skip the excuses, wizard. However, I would have appreciated it if you had changed your clothes before coming here."

Zook lifted the hem of his still-smoking cloak and then let it drop again. "I apologize. Dagodei felled an elk quite a distance away from here and refused to fly here before finishing his feast. To save the time I had to come here with the help of my Stone of Traveling." Again he glanced at his clothes. "My magic still needs some more refining, it seems. They still have some side-effects…"

Again the Queen gave her wizard a mark to be silent. "You have half an hour to clean yourself and change clothes. The Duel of the Changing Winds will begin soon."

Zook hesitated, pondering how far he could still go with his words. Then he dared to answer: "With all the respects and if Your Majesty won't mind, I'd rather pass this occasion."

Zaat shot up from her throne. Her patience with this wizard was starting to close to its limits. "When I say that you will come there, you also will come there, wizard!" she shouted. At this point, Zook took an unconscious step backwards. "Remember who you are talking with! I am no unruly prince of the Clan Tariz-Dav! I am no clanless hawk bard! I am your Queen, the ruler of the sixth Clan of the White Heights, the mother of the all family of the Thirai Thoot!"

Zook listened to Zaat, not daring to utter a single word. A freezing gale of a snowstorm. Howling winds, split apart by bolts of lightning. All that was nothing compared to the might of Queen Thirai-Thoot. Though she was usually calm and she was almost always in absolute control of herself, her gusts of anger were horrible to witness.

"I am your Queen, Zook", Zaat repeated, "And you would do well to remember that!" Assured that the message had gotten through, she sat back down into her throne. "You may go." Her words were calm and cool.

Swiftly Zook bowed and, without wasting another moment in the presence of his Queen, left the throne room of the Clan Thirai-Thoot.

* * * *

Even though the air was almost literally boiling with excitement, the highest members of the fourteen Awai Clans of the White Heights settled into their places just as systematically as ever.

In the light of the torches flaming all around the walls, Zook eyed an enclosed, round arena, which was the special battlefield for the Duel of the Changing Winds. It was no less than an almost bottomless chasm, divided by numerous beams and bridges leading in different directions. The fighters would be balancing on them all the while swinging their blades against their opponents. All around the arena were built fifteen boxes, one for each Clan and one for the judges of the Duel. High into the ceiling of the hall there were hung several beams, logs and nets, all supported by a complicated system of ropes.

"Indeed, that was quite a wedding", Queen Zaat admitted to her wizard and pointed across the arena with her hand. Zook followed her gaze and -- though he had kind of expected it -- was shocked.

Hook-Mook, with his green cloak and carefree manner, was sitting on the railing of the judge's box. He turned his head in this direction and that, as if attempting to store everything into his memory.

When the hawk bard turned to look at the box of Clan Thirai-Thoot, Zook could have almost sworn that the green-cloaked Awai winked his gold-yellow eye at him. It was almost if promising something. Did the bard have something in his mind? Was he planning to interrupt the Duel? Would one of the princes die from his hand?

Then the moment passed and Zook flinched, as if breaking free from some kind of enchantment.

A gong boomed and the crowd fell silent.

Two doors opened in the opposite sides of the arena. Kaaz Tariz-Dav and Geer Riik-Kit, both dressed in their battle garbs, emerged. Their taloned feet locked around beams and guaranteed a good balance, like two parrots on a perch.

Zook shook his head to the comparison. Few parrots would soon have to fight for their very lives.

In the box of the judges, a hawkmother -- a priestess of Taar, the goddess and the ancient mother of the Awai race, stood up and announced with a loud voice: "The blood of the Awai is still honorable. On this day, on this moment, these two warriors are ready to put their lives in danger in a battle, a prize of which shall be greater glory! Geer Riik-Kit, prince of Clan Riik-Kit, has challenged Kaaz Tariz-Dav, prince of Clan Tariz-Dav, into the Duel of the Changing Winds, until death!"

A low murmur could be hear rising from the boxes. Slowly it gathered loudness and strength, becoming first speaking, then shouting. With ever-increasing roar the Clans repeated in unison two words over and over again: "The rules! The rules! The rules!"

The priestess allowed this to continue a while longer and then waved her cane. The entire hall was silenced with a single motion. Then the hawkmother nodded to Tier McGer, who was sitting next to her. The Black Talon complied and stood up.

"Of all the ceremonial battles and challenges of our people, the Duel of the Changing Winds is the greatest", the veteran warrior began. Allowing his gaze to wander from one prince to another and back again, he continued: "The challenge will demand speed, skill, balance, discipline and ability to sense the Changing of the Winds. The battle itself is free. Do what you must, but do it in honor!"

This order was responded with several shouts of approval from the Clans. Dictated by the ceremony, the princes bowed -- rather stiffly, though -- to each other.

"Long ago, our ancestors fought in the air, absolutely in the mercy of the Winds. Today, our race has declined." The Black Talon stopped for a moment as the audience thundered their objections for this claim. "But only a little!" the veteran warrior's voice rose out from the tumult, which instantly turned into a silence. "Our ancestors could fly higher than we could, they could glide alongside Her, Who Soars Highest, Great Teer."

Again McGer kept a pause. This time his words had left behind a keen silence. Every Awai present could feel how a great feeling of sorrow rose above the all. Many bowed down their heads, even the two princes. All of them silently mourned together over this great loss.

"Today", Tier finally continued, "The Changing Wind is being symbolized with this arena." He lifted his talon-hand at the beams and nets hanging above the arena. "Queens of the Clans, those logs, those nets and beams, they all are waiting for your command." The Black Talon pointed at a lone Awai warrior, who was standing sword drawn close to a great knot of ropes that had been attached to the wall. Every rope and string supporting the items above their heads led into this very knot.

"Order him to cut one of those ropes, so that there will be no end of Changing Wind for the fighters. If you brought your court wizard here, you also may tell him to create new surprises for the battle. However, remember that the magic must not directly harm the warriors."

The Clans cheered for this symbol of the Changing Winds.

"Also remember", McGer continued, "You have the right to change the arena only once!"

Again the shouts of approval echoed over the hall.

The Black Talon sat down. From the other side of the priestess stood up an Awai-wizard, the archmage of the White Heights himself. His feathers shone and glowed in all the colors of a rainbow. From all this brilliance one could hardly see his red clothes, decorated with gold string. On the contrary, his high-collared, sky-blue cloak, which was the mark of almost every Awai sorcerer, could be easily seen.

"Only the Clan wizards are permitted to use magic", the mage said and took a little pouch from his belt. "The contestants, however, are not to be targets of any spells, harming nor aiding. They have to rely on their own skill and sense, no other. Cheating will be noticed, and it will be punished."

The mage opened his pouch and took out a handful of yellow, glimmering dust. "Whoever might wear magic, let he glow bright!" he shouted and threw the dust over the princes. It descended around them in a glittery cloud, and neither of the Awai made a move to get out of its way. Within a few moments the dust had either disappeared into the chasm or clung to the feathers of the princes.

Zook would have smiled if such a thing would have been possible for his beak. Even he could have cast that spell. Gently patting a similar pouch on his belt, the wizard was pleased to see that the most powerful mage of the White Heights was not too proud to see himself above of using a spell which was not beyond even an apprentice.

"If a wizard casts a spell over these princes, my magic shall make them glow bright red", the archmage announced. "I will know that one of you is breaking the rules and the law. And breaking the law is a deed without honor!"

"And let the honorless die!" the whole crowd shouted in one chorus.

The mage nodded -- this move made his feathers glimmer in thousands of different colors -- and sat down. The priestess stood up and, lifting her cane, ordered: "Give them their swords!"

The same doors which had let the princes onto the arena reopened and two young Awai gingerly stepped out. Both of them held a long sword, covered with a red velvet cloth. The squires took a few steps closer to the princes and, in a perfect silence, bowed and offered the weapons to the contestants.

The princes pulled the clothes away from the swords, revealing two carefully polished, slightly curved blades. Quickly the squires gave the weapons to their wielders-to-be and exited the arena as quietly as they had come. The princes took a hold of their swords' long handles and lifted them into greeting to each other.

"The Duel of Changing Winds, until death", the priestess declared, lifting a white scarf above the arena, "Let it start on the moment this scarf falls into the chasm!"

The hawkmother delayed her hand purposefully, allowing the excitement to twine around the hall as tightly as it had been in event in the welcoming hall of Clan Tariz-Dav this morning. Then she released the scarf.

To the charged audience and the princes who barely managed to contain themselves, the cloth floated down with paining sluggishness. But down it went, closer and closer to the bottomless pit of the arena.

Immediately after it had passed the beams stretching over the chasm, the princes lunged like arrows from bows bent to their limits. Kaaz's sword flashed in a deadly, swift arch at Geer's throat, but the opponent's blade slipped -- seeming almost unassisted by the prince's hands -- into a parry. The Riik-Kit took the advantage of the situation and slid his sword along his enemy's weapon, attempting to get it directly past Kaaz's defenses. The Tariz-Dav, however, managed to push the blade harmlessly away and immediately launched a counter-attack. Steel flashed in the halo of torches and the clashing of swords cleaved through the otherwise silent hall.

Suddenly the duelers broke away from each other, looking for firmer positions on the beams and attempting to find a better angle at their opponents. The first strikes had been exchanged and neither of the princes had gotten even a scratch. This would be a long battle, Zook thought.

Kaaz sprung forward and wove a magnificent series of feints, thrusts, more feints and more thrusts. Geer's sword answered each one of them with at least as magnificent parries and blocks. As the Tariz-Dav withdrew for a moment to gather speed for another series, the Riik-Kit stepped forward, aiming a slash at his opponent's legs. Kaaz leapt into air and stroke, unwittingly using the very same tactic as one of the warriors of his Clan had used yesterday. Geer lifted his sword faster than eye and parried almost certain death. The blades stroke sparks against each other.

The hall soughed.

"Unbelievable!" Zaat breathed. Even Tier McGer would have had some troubles with such a parry.

As Kaaz landed back onto the beam it was Geer's turn to attack. The Tariz-Dav, already out of balance, faltered badly, but succeeded in answering the Riik-Kit's slashes and thrusts. Quickly Kaaz stepped backwards to get a firmer balance and launched a new series of attacks. The swords flew in their deadly dance faster and faster. Blades whistled, stopped each other with a ringing clash, separated and came together again and again.

One of the Clan Queens gave a signal. The Awai warrior cut one of the supporting ropes away. A stout beam swept down at the princes. Kaaz noticed the danger in time and leapt backwards, but the unfortunate Geer happened to step right into the pole's way.

Escorted by a mighty boom the light-built prince of the Riik-Kit was thrown into air and fell. Spreading his wings to spin around, he managed to get a hold of another pole, almost five meters away from his original place. Trying to get the advantage of his opponent's brief helplessness, Kaaz started leaping over the bridges and poles, heading for the beam from which Geer was hanging.

Another Queen gave her mark. An enormous, heavy log fell crashing into the chasm, tearing several bridges with it. This gave Geer enough time to pull himself up.

Kaaz swore. The damned log had broken that very beam the Tariz-Dav had planned to use to get at his opponent. He would have to take a longer way to around.

The Riik-Kit took a careful step on the bridge. The pole had slammed badly against his side, but none of the delicate bones of the Awai had been broken. The injury would bother his moves a little, but the outcome of the battle was still everything else but clear. Taking a better hold of his sword Geer started circling around the gap in the bridges, heading for his enemy.

Third Queen whispered something to her wizard. This nodded and began chanting, his claws glowing gently in the colors of blue and violet. Just as the princes clashed their blades again, thunder boomed somewhere in the upper parts of the hall. Water, a stream of large, heavy raindrops, started pouring over the duelists. The swords cleaved through drops of water. The clashing sounded strange as it echoed through ever-increasing patter of rain.

Suddenly Geer faltered under a heavy deluge and Kaaz was immediately upon him. The Tariz-Dav began forcing his unbalanced opponent to retreat. Slowly but surely, inch by inch Riik-Kit had to slide his feet backwards on the beam.

"He is planning to make Geer fall", Zaat whispered to Zook, clearly impressed by the skill of the princes.

As the rain started to cease, Geer's swords whizzed directly past Kaaz's defenses and cut a wound into the Tariz-Dav's shoulder. A ripping scream, immediately quelled, echoed in the hall. Zook thought that the battle had already ended, but soon it became clear that the wound did not hinder too much as Kaaz resumed his attack even more furiously.

Guided by a sudden impulse, Zook glanced at Hook-Mook, who was still sitting on the railing of the judge's box. To the wizard's amazement the hawk bard glanced back at him and made a tiny, almost indistinguishable nod toward the other side of the arena. Zook followed this gesture and found himself looking at the box of Clan Riik-Kit.

The august Queen Deek Riik-Kit was sitting proudly, surrounded by her loyal and faithful nobles. Suddenly she nodded to her own court wizard. This acknowledged, lifted his staff and chanted a spell.

A sudden, violent gust of wind whistled through the hall. The princes faltered. The wind wailed even stronger and churned over the boxes, making the nobles' clothes flow and flutter. All around the hall torches flared and went out. The wind disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only impenetrable darkness behind.

"Honorless!" somebody shouted.

"No, completely permitted", the voice of the priestess replied.

"Deception this is!"

"The spell did not affect directly. It was allowed!"

"Queen Deek Riik-Kit, what kind of nonsense this is?"

"Changing Wind", the voice of the Queen replied coolly.

"Bring us light!" someone demanded.

"Queen Yeek Tarh-Toon, you already used your right to affect the arena!"

"We have the right to see the course of the Duel!"

"Someone, please use your right to affect and bring us light!"

"SILENCE!" the priestess's magically enhanced voice thundered so that the whole hall shuddered. The shouts quieted down and left behind only ever-repeating echoes and the clashing of blades.

Even in almost perfect darkness, the Duel of the princes continued, now based on hearing, feeling and plain sense. The exchange of strikes seemed just to escalate, soon it sounded like a whole group of Awai warriors would have been skirmishing in the darkness.

Zook saw a little magic rune glowing in the darkness, and then two formerly yellow eyes lighted up into a dim, red light. Someone, the archmage probably, had given himself an ability to see in the darkness.

"Kaaz Tariz-Dav is retreating", the mage announced. As if responding to his words, a grunt of the prince of the Tariz-Dav could be heard through the darkness as he parried Geer's well-aimed strike. Soon it was followed by second, and then third attack.

"It sounds like Kaaz is in troubles", Zaat whispered nearby.

Zook did not answer. Immediately after the torches had gone out, something had started to bother him.

It is said that when one does not see, his other senses are enhanced. The wizard was not sure if this was true, but even so he felt how a little vibration touched his mind. It was a feeling which he had noticed only after all the light had left the arena. First the wizard thought that it was from the archmage's spells, but then -- startled -- he realized why it was to familiar. He had felt it just this morning.

A shout and a crash emerged from the darkness.

"He's falling!" Zaak Tariz-Dav's worried voice echoed over the hall.

"No, he got a hold of a beam", the red-eyed archmage said. "But Geer is right next to him --"

"Stop the Duel", Zook whispered to Zaat, whom the wizard knew to be still sitting next to him. He could just imagine how his Queen's gaze turned, penetrated the darkness like a spear goes through some soft silk curtain and nailed him into his bench.

"What?" Zaat snapped.

"Stop the Duel!" Zook repeated more loudly. The wizard felt how the Queen's sharp claws pressed warningly around his slender wrist. "It is not Geer who fights through the darkness. It is the sword!"

On such a short moment Zaat did not understand the meaning of Zook's words, but during those few years the young wizard had been in her service, she had started not only tolerate his occasional little faults, also trust his judging ability. Making up her decision, the Queen released her grip of the wizard's wrist, drew a deep breath, stood up and shouted: "Stop the Duel!"

A moment too late.

An ear-piercing scream could be heard through the darkness. Every soul in the hall could feel the pain spreading out from the mind of possibly fatally wounded Kaaz.

"He's falling!" Zaak shouted again and this time, nobody doubted his words.

"Tarn'l Fah!"

The magical words of command were immediately followed by a soft glow, which lit up the center of the arena. Finally the Clans could truly see the situation.

Geer Riik-Kit was standing on a bridge, his bloody sword in his hands. Close to his feet on the beam there were a small pool of blood and -- to Zook's disgust -- three Awai fingers.

Lower, perhaps four meters below the beams and bridges, Kaaz was laying in the middle of the air, supported by a mattress of glimmering, shining mist.

The sword of the Riik-Kit was clearly shivering, it almost seemed to live a life of its own.

Then the soft glow was quelled by another light as the archmage of the White Heights illuminated the entire hall with dozens of multicolored, spinning will-o'-the-wisps.

Panting, Geer looked up at the Clans. The sword shook in his hands.

The hawkmother stood up from her place. "The Duel has been stopped for a moment. If the reason is not aggravating, the Duel of the Changing Winds shall continue." She motioned to the mage, who was standing next to her, and informed him to be ready to dispel the magic mist he had summoned to temporary save Kaaz.

"Queen Zaat Thirai-Thoot, why did you stop the Duel of the Changing Winds?" the priestess asked and everyone turned to watch the box of Clan Thirai-Thoot.

Zaat's nobles, Zook included, exchanged nervous glances. Stopping the Duel without an excellent reason was a heavy mistake, and its punishment would not be light.

Only the Queen herself succeeded in hiding her nervousness. Under her calm shell, however, she was not a drop less jittery than those around her. With a level voice, she answered the question: "My court wizard, Zook Thirai-Thoot, gave me a reason to understand that there is magic -- magic in illegal form, that is -- present."

"Impossible!" the archmage snorted. "My spell would immediately reveal that, and, as you can see, neither of them is glowing red!" Many of the Clan Queens nodded in agreement.

"Continue the Duel!" somebody shouted and many others demanded the same.

Zaat glanced at her court wizard. Zook clenched his hand into a tight ball and stood up.

"Mighty Queens of the Clans", Zook began, attempting to force his voice from shaking. "I believe that Geer Riik-Kit has committed a dishonorable act --" The wizard's voice was immediately quelled as the nobles of Clan Riik-Kit leapt up and accused Zook in unison for slander and false charges.

"Silence!" the priestess shouted and slammed the railing of her box with her cane. Once again her voice was obeyed.

"Zook Thirai-Thoot, the court wizard to Clan Thirai-Thoot, your accusation is a grave one. But, as you can see, it is almost impossible to believe." The priestess motioned at the archmage next to her.

"I would have noticed it!" the mage confirmed and folded his arms before him. His eyes, which had returned back to their brilliant yellow color, glared pityingly at the younger wizard.

"Perhaps I am wrong", Zook replied, "but may I still try to prove my words?"

"Slander, false charges and now clean lies!" Queen Deek Riik-Kit thundered. "That wizard is reaching over his rights!"

Once again the hawkmother's cane beat the poor railing. "Quiet!" she shouted. Even a Clan Queen had to obey a priestess of Taar. There was a short, considering moment, and then the hawkmother nodded to Zook. "You may try."

Painfully aware of the gazes of every noble of the Clans, the wizard tried to clear his mind, to focus into that faint vibration which was now much harder to find since light had returned to the hall. But even through all his concentration, Zook could not forget a question which had risen into his mind: there were at least six wizards, each one of them more powerful than he was, present. Why did not they feel it?

The silence continued. Slowly Zook opened a pouch tied to his belt and drew out a handful of yellow, glimmering dust.

"Whatever might hold magic, let it glow bright!" he shouted and tossed the dust over the princes. Everyone, even those untrained in the art of magic, noticed the change Zook had made in the spell.

For several agonizingly slow seconds the cloud descended around the princes and finally closed them into its embrace. The whole hall held their breaths. The archmage snorted.

Slowly the dust set to its task.

The entire hall gasped as the sword of Geer Riik-Kit lighted up, glowing in first dim, but then brighter and brighter red light.

"Now that should be a proof enough for you", Zaat announced and proudly glanced at her court wizard.

Hook-Mook chuckled in the high-pitched Awai laughter.

* * * *

Slowly Tier McGer stood up. His faint voice carried well in the death silence, which now filled the hall. "The Duel of the Changing Winds has ended into an uncovering of an appalling act of dishonor."

"The Queen of Clan Riik-Kit and her son have broken our most holy laws! Punish them!" Queen Yeek Tarh-Toon shouted and many other voices joined hers.

"Slay them!" someone demanded.

"Banish them!" proposed another Queen.

"Name them honorless!" shouted a third one.

"No!" Geer Riik-Kit groaned, lowering his glowing sword. Now that its magic had been revealed, the blade shone like a red sun. It freely announced its power and eagerness to be wielded in a battle. "Anything else, but not that!"

"Because you fear it so much", declared Raeek, the Queen of Clan Braka-Rats. "It will be a fitting punishment for you!"

"He tried to kill my son with his cowardly tricks!" Saar Tariz-Dav thundered, "It is just that the Tariz-Dav shall name them!"

"Stop it!"

Again the hall fell silent, but the shouter had not been the priestess.

"Clan Riik-Kit is still honorable", Tier McGer said, his voice calm and determined. "Queen Deek Riik-Kit is at most guilty only at neglectful parenting, which has made Geer Riik-Kit to be weak against temptations." The Black Talon was perhaps even more honored than a priestess of Taar. Not a soul dared to say a word as the veteran warrior continued his speech.

"Geer Riik-Kit, for his part, is guilty only in falling to a tempting from the outside", McGer declared and lifted one of his lean feet onto the railing of his box.

"Only?" Queen Saar imitated. "He used illegal magic in the middle of a battle. Cheating in a ritual Duel! There is no worse crime than that!"

"No, there is no crime worse than that", McGer affirmed. "But Geer Riik-Kit is not the one to be blamed for it", he continued quietly.

"Who then!?" Saar demanded.

"Me", Tier McGer replied without hesitation.

The entire hall gasped. Only now was it noticed that one of the honorable Black Talon's sword scabbards was empty.

* * * *

"Well, pluck every single feather from my wings!" exclaimed Zaak Tariz-Dav as the three Awai walked out from the Nest of the High Justice along with the rest of the crowd. "Tier McGer himself persuading Geer Riik-Kit to take his enchanted sword and telling Deek Riik-Kit --"

"Queen Deek Riik-Kit!" the two older Awai corrected in unison.

"-- Queen Deek Riik-Kit", the young prince corrected, "that they would benefit from darkening the entire hall!"

"That is what the Black Talon just said", Zook remarked, absently looking at somewhere between the ceiling and the walls. "And true to his words, the mistakes of Deek Riik-Kit did not lead to any kind punishment."

"Unlike Geer", Zaak replied. "Thirty strikes of a whip for falling into an honorless act! I suppose the poor prince won't be getting new feathers for some time."

"If you ask me, he should have gotten a hundred!" Kaaz Tariz-Dav snarled and looked at his bandaged right hand, which was two-fingered nowadays.

"Not to mention the punishment of Tier McGer", added Zook, who despite his dreaming expression had closely followed the conversation. He was deeply… puzzled by these recent event. But even more he had been puzzled by the Black Talon, who was honorable yet honorless.

* * * *

"Yes. It was I who coaxed Geer Riik-Kit to cheat in a ritual battle", had McGer said. "And it was I who suggested Deek Riik-Kit to darken the entire hall. Please -- " Quickly he had lifted his taloned hand to prevent from getting interrupted. "Do not ask why I did so. I am old."

Slowly he had lifted his gray-feathered hawk-head to look at the distant ceiling of the Nest of the High Justice. "Too old. All my life I have served the White Heights. Thinking about the deed I have committed pained me. Doing such a deed… wounded me." Sharply he had lowered his beak to face all the Awai eyes fixed at him. "Speaking of such a thing… A spear striking through my chest could not do greater pain. Please do not make me say it. My plans were not my own. I had no choice but to follow them."

Then McGer had turned to gesture in the direction of the Thirai-Thoot nobles. "Until this wizard, whose power has been vainly trivialized, uncovered me."

Even though the veteran warrior's voice had held no bitterness, Zook remembered how he had shifted nervously.

"Zook Thirai-Thoot, your honor brightens whatever there is left of mine!" McGer had suddenly declared, to everybody's amazement. The punishment for the Black Talon's crime was being named an honorless -- the worst possible punishment any Awai could ever suffer. Every other lawbreaker would have cursed the name of his revealer into the darkest hell.

"I hope that you still honor me for a tiniest of moments, for the sake of all what I have done to the White Heights", McGer had -- by Awai standards, incredibly impudently -- asked, "Just for the tiniest moment, so that this grey, old and tired warrior would get a chance to give my final and last appeal. That I would get another option to redeem myself."

For the Battle of Canyon Point, for the Battle of Foaming Run, for the Battle of Tenbaurne and for others, countless deeds of bravery and nobility, the Clans had honored him.

For the last time.

* * * *

"It is difficult", Zook said suddenly. The other princes turned to look at him questioningly. "It is difficult to honor an honorless one", the wizard clarified.

"To the most Awai, it is impossible", replied Hook-Mook, who appeared behind the trio.

The younger of the Tariz-Dav princes flinched at the sudden voise and spun around to face the hawk bard. "Ahh! I really hate that! You should not scare decent folk like that!" His complaining voice ended up into a chuckle.

Though such a rudeness should have been rewarded with a very stern glance and some tongue-lashing, Hook-Mook was contented by simply winking at Zaak. Then he turned his attention to other matters: "You are a special Awai, Zook", the bard said to the wizard. "In many ways, I admit."

Zook stared at Hook-Mook for a short, stunned moment. "What do you mean?" he inquired.

"Bound by Honor and Guided by Honor", the bard quoted with a singing voice, "Evil, the Eyes it shall find, the Hand of Honor it shall bind. And so shall the darkness fall, as the Flame of Honor ends it all!"

The two princes and the wizard could just stare at the bard, not making sense a word of what he had said.

Hook-Mook chuckled, snapped his blue claws against his beak and said: "My congratulations, Zook Thirai-Thoot. It was worth of a song!"

Then the bard was gone, disappeared into the crowd, hunting for new tales to be told and new songs to be sung.

* * * *

The gale whipped and tugged at his plain, black cloak. The Wind sang its proud song in his ears. Far below him spread out the grand, wondrous mountains of the White Heights, stretching their stony fingers toward him. Far above him spread out the blue skies. Thick, snow-white clouds took him into their tender blankets.

"They honored me", Tier McGer whispered to his hawk. "For the last time." The mount replied to its master with an ear-deafening shout.

The Black Talon glanced at his honor escort, three Awai warriors with their great hawks, who were flying in a respectable distance from him.

McGer's hawk suddenly swooped down with a dazzling speed and arched back up, almost brushing a mountain tip when doing so. The mount knew that this was its last chance to enjoy flying with its master, and thus it had decided to get everything out of it.

As the world threw cartwheels, Tier watched the spinning horizon and thought how easy it would be to shake off his guards, fly somewhere far away and start a completely new life, without any obligations or that cursed bond to the one, who had ordered the Black Talon to betray everything an Awai could dedicate his life to.

As a bodyguard to a merchant, as an officer to the personal army of some baron. Perhaps he could even become a professional mercenary, living just for the next mission, the next warm bed and the next hot meal. To earn his living with his sword, one of those few actual friends a Black Talon could ever have.

How easy it would be.

But it wouldn't be honorable, Tier reminded himself. The Black Talon had blackened all the honor he had collected over the years. But patinated gold still held a hint of its former light, and McGer's decision told that there was still a remainder of his now-lost honor left.

"My friend, Reeshan, I will go now", McGer told to his hawk and pointed at a mountain tip which peeked out of the snow some distance away. The mount shook its mighty head as an answer, but nonetheless, it steered its flight toward its master's destination.

The Black Talon had ridden his hawk for long enough to immediately know what Reeshan had in mind. "No! I cannot allow that!" he shouted and yanked the reins, attempting to turn his mount away. The hawk, his faithful companion and his only actually living friend both at the times of war and the times of peace, did not obey.

As the hawk approached the tip of the mountain, it started to beat its wings in ever-increasing speed and rose more and more sharply higher. "Do really want it?" McGer asked and released his hold of the reins.

The hawk replied with a little, short scream.

The Black Talon caressed his mount's head. "Well, what are waiting for then?" He laughed with almost lunatic joy. "Let's go!"

The enormous hawk rose into the very zenith of its flight, hovered for a moment in the air like a gargantuan humming bird and, screaming wildly, dove directly downwards.

The Black Talon stared at the white-covered stone, which was approaching with ever increasing speed. "There is still some honor for the Awai", he whispered and would have smiled, had such a deed been possible for his hawk-beak.

* * * *

Zook saw this all from his balcony. He saw how the hawk sped toward its doom, he saw the enormous cloud of blood and he saw how the mountain tip turned crimson. And he imagined that he heard the sickening crack.

"The spirit of a proud hawk cannot be bounded", he whispered not especially to anyone.

"Even the wind cannot command the flight of the hawk's spirit", was replied in a human tongue behind the hawk wizard's back. Every Awai, no matter how old he or she is, is able to understand all the languages of the world just in the same way as other races understand their language.

Frustrated and a little angry, Zook turned his eyes at his guest.

"Why?" he asked.

"You should know that", answered the human, who was standing in the middle of the room. His skin had been tanned dark somewhere in the south. His crow-black hair had been carefully cut and combed. The man was standing straight, his hands hidden into the voluminous sleeves of his robes. On the usually so dark face rippled a tiny smile.

"Kooz always said that the real experience comes with the age", Zook said and stepped further into his study. "You are older than I am, Oroflin, as a member of the brotherhood of wizards as well as a living being. You probably know much better than I do, why a traitor reveals himself. To me, it is unexplainable."

"True it is that my name is mentioned among the most famous sorcerers of Loch Zeress, or even of entire Avandar", Oroflin replied in a voice which was as soft as his dark blue robes, yet it held a good amount of tone used for command. The smile disappeared from his face. His dark eyes stared relentlessly at the hawk sorcerer.

"The barbarians of the Steppes of Clouds trust no magic nor those who use it, the wizards. They do not even trust the promises or vows made by wizards. Whenever one attempts to assure them that one is on their side, they simply harp on the same thing: 'A wizard's word is slippery like the fat of an ox!'"

Zook closed the balcony's doors a little harder than what he had meant to. "You are meaning…?"

"I am 'but a human', as some Awai would put it. And plus, I am one of the worst kinds", Oroflin kept a little pause. "A sorcerer."

Zook had already gotten used to the older mage's complicated explanations, and so he didn't bother to say anything.

Oroflin rewarded his patience: "When excluding thieves, robbers and cheaters, it is often thought that the wizards are least 'virtuous', if you know what I mean. If you ask me about the matters of honor, you are totally on the wrong path."

Zook snorted -- as well as a creature with a hawk beak can snort -- and walked over to his bookshelf, pretending to be searching for one volume or another. Everything seemed so… irrelevant. The hawk wizard felt like he would be just a pawn in some immense game, in which something important had just happed. And now the players and the onlookers, each in turn, visited him and congratulated for a successful move. First Tier McGer and then Hook-Mook. Then eight Clan Queens had sent their official congratulations for revealing the betrayal. (They had added a few unofficial pieces of praise to their messages, too!)

And now Lord Oroflin, one of the greatest sorcerers of the brotherhood of wizards, honored Zook by paying him a visit!

After a moment of silence the human finally spoke again: "Tier McGer's orders did not come from his own head, but from somewhere else… completely somewhere else. But in the end, the Black Talon recovered some of his honor. Enough to end his days in such a handsome way… If we assume that there is anything handsome in death, that is."

There was no answer. After little while the sorcerer continued: "He indeed had quite an interesting sword, he did. A weapon which -- in a kind -- lived its own life and aimed its own strikes for its carrier. It was no wonder that Geer was immediately at the advantage in the darkness." Suddenly Oroflin's dark, very visible eyebrows arched into a preoccupied V-formation.

"How did you notice it, by the way?"

"What?" Zook asked, his back still turned to the wizard.

"That the sword was enchanted."

The hawk wizard turned to meet the human sorcerer's eyes. "I… felt it. You are well aware that the wizards' connection to the magic refines their senses to feel the currents and the power auras of spells and enchantments", he answered with a monotonous, lecturing voice. The human wizard thought that he distinguished a little, bored irony spreading out into the study.

"True enough, that is", Oroflin admitted, "But there were at least six other magicians present, including the archmage of the White Heights! Why it was you who noticed it, no other?" he inquired.

Helpless, Zook shook his head. "I… do not know. I simply felt it."

As if liking what he heard and making up a decision in his mind, Oroflin nodded. "I know."

The hawk wizard just stared at the mage.

"Magic can be controlled mostly by those, who are spiritually a little more sensitive than others", Oroflin explained. "The more sensitive mind, the more gifted it is in the Art. That sensitivity, let us call it… 'Magical sense', with the lack of a better term, is the connection between the basic flow of magic and its wielder, be it a wizard, a priest, a bard and so on and so on. And that connection manifests in that same 'vibration', which you so often feel."

The mage kept a pause in his lecture, allowing Zook to digest his complicated explanations. From time to time Oroflin found himself in a bit irksome situations when he got carried away explaining this or that detail of the Art. "The more sensitive mind, the more easily its possessor can feel that very vibration of magic."

Zook scratched his beak with one claw. "In other words?" he asked, although he already anticipated the goal of this reasoning.

"In other words", Oroflin shrugged. The hawk wizard was playing dumber than what he really was, it seemed… This amused the human mage, so he decided to play the game with him.

"Simple logic. Pure reasoning. Brain at the work, Zook. If you felt a magic other wizards managed to miss, then you are more sensitive than they are. Including the archmage himself!" Oroflin snorted quietly as the Awai suddenly turned around. "Conclusion: there is a good possibility that you will grow to be quite a powerful wizard."

Zook kept his back turned to the human, trying to cover the confusion caused by his explanations. He, of all people, more sensitive than the archmage himself?!

"Your sensitivity gave you an enemy, Zook", Oroflin continued, as if sensing the Awai's thoughts. "You humiliated the archmage of the White Heights before the very eyes of the Clan Queens. You succeeded in where he totally failed. Have no doubt, he won't forget it soon enough for your tastes. A long-term Awai, that archmage of yours."

Zook kept silent.

"What was his name was again? Ah, yes. Poeek of Clan Ayt-Havt… Did I spell it right?"

Oroflin sighed as Zook refused to give any kind of sign that he would actually be listening to the older wizard. A young mind, having faced so many challenges and revelations recently. Yes, the Awai was young, yet he had already managed to enter the status of a court wizard. He was deeply involved in dangerous Awai politics, yet he had managed to balance through those treacherous paths successfully… well, considering what Oroflin had heard of Zook, mostly successfully, at least.

"Kooz was right. You will be a good Awai."

As usual, the name of the egg brother of Zook made the Awai flinch. Hastily he wheeled around and it was Oroflin's turn to get nailed by a relentless stare. "Have you met my brother?" There was a tiny grain of menace in the feeling which now spread out into the air.

Oroflin lifted his eyebrows and let them fall again. "Many times. Most recently, yesterday."

Zook's yellow glare downright demanded the human to continue.

"He heard about the deed you did the day before yesterday. And -- have no doubt -- he is proud of his brother." The sorcerer allowed that rare smile to reclaim his features. "Very proud."

"Where is he?" Zook asked and took a step in almost an ominous manner.

"He asked me to not to tell you", Oroflin answered, giving the subject a little wave of hand. If the mage even noticed the Awai's menacing gesture, he did not care about it. It would be very un-Zook-like and, besides, what could a lesser wizard do to the Grand Master of the Great School of Magic of Loch Zeress, the city of magic? "If you feel better about it, I can say that he is quite safe. Oh, right that is! My poor mind, I almost forgot. He sent you a gift."

The wizard's smile got a shade wider as he pulled a carefully tied scroll from the depths of his robes. "He asked me to give it to you only if you are worth of it. And -- no doubt about this one, either -- you indeed are."

"What is it?" the Awai wizard asked, curiously looking over the scroll.

"A wizard sends a scroll to another wizard, passed by yet another wizard, and you ask what it is?" Oroflin lectured, tiling his head a little disapprovingly. "The answer is a spell, of course! Complicated, yes, but quite nimble to learn, thanks to this scroll. Created by Kooz himself, by the way."

"The spell of his name?" Zook asked immediately.

In Dah'Kareen, the mystical language created and developed by wizards and sorcerers, there were many words named after famous and not-so-famous magicians. Zook remembered that the word "oroflin" actually meant "shadowy light" in Dah'Kareen.

Every now and them the highest members of the brotherhood of wizards decided to add new words to the language. These words were names of younger magicians, those who had in some way distinguished themselves. After one such an occasion, there had been a new word, "kooz", which meant "flame of honor".

Since Dah'Kareen was the language of magic, its words were often used as a part of spells and enchantments. Many wizards possessing a "wizard name" liked to name one of the first spells of their own creation after their own self. It was a well-known fact that Oroflin, for example, called one of his personal spells "Flash of a shadowy light".

Zook had always wanted to learn "The Flame of Honor", a spell created by Kooz.

"No", Oroflin crushed the Awai's hopes without hesitation, "But something almost as good. A powerful spell, this is, Zook. And it fits you well. Quite well. Learn it well, and learn to use it well." He tapped the scroll with his finger.

"One more thing I think you should know about: did you know that there is a new word in Dah'Kareen?"

"What?" Zook asked almost indifferently.

"I am sorry, find it yourself", Oroflin replied. He gave the Awai one curt nod more, uttered a word and was gone. The scroll fell through the wisps of smoke and softly landed onto a thick carpet.

Zook crossed the room with exactly three strides, scooped the scroll from the floor and, his hands shaking with nervousness and excitement, broke the red wax seal. Quickly he recognized his brother's handwriting and started to translate the introducing words, which were written in Dah'Kareen:

Zook blinked his yellow eyes and read the lines over again.

He blinked again and read the words yet once, focusing his attention especially to the last line: "And the Hand of Honor, it shall bind."

He read the line carefully, checked and rechecked each word, making sure that he really had read everything right. Even one mistake in the form of a letter, and the entire message would change. It had to be so, there was no other explanation for the impossible!

No. He had not made a mistake.

There was a new word in the line. He had never seen it, yet he knew what it was and what it meant: The Hand of Honor.

* * * *

In the very heart of the palace of Clan Thirai-Thoot, inside the Throne Room, Queen Zaat Thirai-Thoot herself slowly lifted her gaze from a lacquey who was currently bowing before her. She was greatly puzzled, for of all the sudden, an image had popped up into her mind.

It was a blue-cloaked Awai wizard, laughing like there would be no tomorrow.

With a flourish Hook-Mook finished his tale and performed a deep bow.

"Excellent!" was Nolfin Bellford's estimation of the story and the other bards agreed with him. For a moment the entire hill echoed with clapping of hands.

"I have to admit, I've always found Awai's sense of honor a bit strange thing", remarked Tyfair, absently stroking his whiskers.

"Oh, yes", Hook-Mook replied as he moved back to his place, a bit further away from the campfire. "My people is honorable. Arrogant, yes, pedantic, perhaps. But at least we know what the honor is."

"Your skill as a narrator is still there", Shidamyn praised, lifting his goblet in the direction of the hawk bard.

Modestly Hook-Mook shook his head. "Ah, you flatter me. Narration is not that hard, after all. Like cooking a soup."

"A soup?" one of the younger members of the group asked. Older bards just smiled, they had heard this comparison before.

"Lad, telling a story is a little like cooking a soup", the hawk bard explained while pouring himself some wine into an Awai goblet. "Choose a good stage for water, add the carrots, potatoes and other actors, put in a little seasoning, a little of this and a little of that, boil a while and there! Your soup is ready, as long as you tell it while it still is hot."

The youth chuckled bemusedly.

"Simple, no?" Nolfin asked as he accepted the offered wine pitcher with a little nod. He lifted it over his goblet and was about to pour himself some more wine. Suddenly, he stopped. Frowning, he peered into the wine pitcher. It had more than the half of its contents still inside.

"By the burning pain", he swore, "Won't this thing ever get empty?!"

The bards laughed. More wine was drunk.

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