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CHAPTER 5 ~ The Change Winds

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THE WIND HOWLED outside of the soaring stone walls of the Sunfire Temple, rippling the long, golden grass of the plateau like a stormy ocean. The massive túrann trees shot into the dark sky like small mountains, their outstretched boughs either reaching for the roiling blanket of clouds or bending to latch into the earth. Any stranger to the planet might think the massive limbs that twisted upwards might snap and crash to the plateau with the power of an earthquake due to the violent winds, but the trees had been growing with the fortitude to withstand the screaming winds for thousands of years — they would likely stand strong for thousands of years more.

Gaea watched the deep orange and gold leaves of the túrann trees roll and rise with a frown on her face, unable to appreciate the beauty of the sight. The kind of wind that ripped across the plateau without restraint was rare behavior, but not altogether unusual. Wind mighty enough to contort and control the constant clouds of Nahlyve was a harbinger of change. Not only did they bring physical change, for she knew the signs of such an event when she saw them, but it seemed a spiritual change was coming.

That just added another layer to the many things making Gaea's head throb. She glared at the sky, where a reddish orb glowed behind the cloud layers towards the West. "What have you got planned?" She got no answer — not that she was expecting one. Whatever was to come of the next few days, whatever plan or will that Danéru — the Force had, it would make itself known in due time.

Footsteps against stone echoed through the cavernous space and the Headmistress turned to see Varruc, Veitla, Thera, Getria, Junya, and Cyronn enter, some silent, others murmuring to themselves. Masirah was not present, but Gaea didn't blame her. She was likely in the medical wing with her brother. Cyronn wasn't yet a Lasa Meádá, his ceremony continuing to be postponed, but he was old enough and close enough to the situation to warrant his presence.

As soon as the recount of the mission to Ord Radama left her mouth, the hall erupted. Every person had an immediate opinion and decided that shouting was the best way to express it. Gaea was quite sure Thera had started it, but it was impossible to tell. Varruc was waving his hands in the air and Junya had decided to hiss in his face, ears flattened against her head. Thera and Veitla had gone from passive-aggressive to one wrong word away from trading blows in a matter of moments, while Getria held the Mirialan woman back.

Cyronn was the only one who didn't say a word. His features were unreadable as he stared out the window, past Gaea's shoulder, and to the túrann trees. The vibrant orange-yellow of his face had gone pale again, his montrals almost quivering. When she probed his mind, she found him locked behind a thick mental wall. If she wasn't so worried, she'd be proud.

The volume only grew, as did Gaea's headache. She surveyed her Flame Keepers and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "That is quite enough," she called, but her voice was drowned out. She sighed, hands on her hips. "Silence! That is enough!" She boomed, projecting her voice with the Force. The hall lapsed into silence as all eyes turned to her. "If you are all quite done threatening to rip each others' heads off, we can move on to doing something about Erro's return."

They looked like reprimanded children, a rather comical sight that had Gaea forcing back a smile. Children, every single one of them, she thought.

"If Erro Vesh is really back," Veitla started, shooting a glance at Thera, "then we need to make sure he can't get back here."

"We need to go after him," Thera declared; the Sephi woman rolled her eyes.

"He's in the wind," Varruc reminded Thera, a hand on his fiancée's shoulder. "We've got no idea where he is."

"Varruc's correct," Getria nodded. "Until Mataroh wakes up, we have no way of knowing where he went or where he will show up again."

"Not necessarily true," Junya disagreed, glancing at Varruc. "Gaea — "

"No," Varruc almost snarled. "We are not going looking for that monster, let alone pushing Gaea to exhaustion to locate him."

"I think I should be the judge of that," Gaea interjected with delicacy.

"Gaea, you can hardly stand right now," Varruc pointed out. "Whatever he did to you is still affecting you."

"He knocked me out with the Force," she waved a dismissive hand. "I have a mild headache. I am alright. I have been through worse."

"You never mentioned a headache," Getria accused, coming over to the woman. Gaea shooed the blue-skinned Nautolan off.

"I'm fine," she reiterated. The nurse's eyes shifted, the dark ocean abyss swirling with irritation. Gaea deflated. "I will be fine."

"We're going to the medical wing before you meet with the Elders."

"Alright, alright, no need to get threatening." Getria just flashed a grin, reminiscent of Jedi Master Kit Fisto.

They turned back to the others and Gaea folded her arms against her chest. "Whatever we decide to do, Erro is a threat. I sensed great Darkness in him." A chill ran up her spine as she remembered his bloodshot, sickly yellow eyes.

"If Erro has given himself to Madorígan," Cyronn spoke for the first time since entering the hall, "then it wouldn't hurt to seek help."

"We can handle one Dorch Meádá," Thera growled.

"Is that what he is?" Veitla demanded, eyes turning to Gaia for an answer. "Has he become a Dorch Meádá? A—A Sith, or whatever the Jedi would call him?"

"That yellow-eyed freak on Garel wasn't so tough — "

"I beg to differ," she cut Thera off with a glare. "You should know better than to bring that up."

"It's relevant, isn't it?"

"Erro was powerful before he left," Junya reminded them, stepping forward to physically cut them off. "Strong enough to beat Gaea in a duel — "

"Compared to most Jedi, I'm not that noteworthy," Gaea objected.

" — Madorígan would only make him stronger. The only ones of us who have any weapons training are Gaea, Varruc, and Veitla. And if your tales of that Zabrak that chased you halfway across the galaxy all those years ago are anything to go by, then Erro will be a great threat."

"I've had training," Thera objected.

Junya turned her feline gaze to the green-skinned woman, one ear flicking. "And when was the last time you picked up your blade, exactly? Two years?"

Thera scoffed "And you're any better."

"Alright," Gaea snapped, feeling her patience drain like blood from a wound. "Arguing will not do us any good, you all know this. I brought you here to be civil, not to rip each others' throats out. I have to go meet with the Elders — after Getria ensures I am not dying," the Nautolan gave an approving nod, "and I need a consensus among us. What am I supposed to tell them?"

"I would feel safer if we gathered some warriors to Sunfire," Veitla said. "Erro knows how to get back to Nahlyve."

"We still need to find him," Thera reminded them. "Junya and I think that we should be actively pursuing him."

"We can't face Erro alone," Cyronn argued, again offering his voice after his long stretch of silence. "And Nahlyve's warriors aren't exactly equipped to deal with trained Dorch Meádá."

"Then what do you suggest?" Varruc probed, turning to face the Torgutan youth.

Cyronn looked at Gaea with hesitance stretched across his face. "I think we need to look outside Nahlyve for help." A pregnant pause followed his words as the group thought about what he meant. Gaea knew in an instant, but she said nothing. He continued. "You always told me stories of the power and wisdom of the Republic's Jedi. Maybe...maybe they can help us with Erro. If anyone can fight a Sith, it's them."

All eyes turned to Gaea, much to her chagrin. She bowed her head and let out a long, audible sigh. She shook her head and pursed her lips, then looked back up. "I will bring it before the Elders, but I cannot guarantee that they would agree. Seeking help from anyone outside Nahlyve, not just the Jedi, would mean exposing us for the first time in thousands of years."

"It wouldn't hurt to try," Varruc said, and there was, finally, agreement between the Flame Keepers. Gaea nodded and rested a hand on Cyronn's shoulder as she left the hall, Getria on her heels.

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AFTER BEING SUBJECTED to Getria's rigorous study of her in the medical wing, Gaea traveled down the plateau on her own to meet with the Nahlyvian Council of Elders. The wind whipped with more force than before at her copper hair, pulling any loose strand from her lazy plait as she made her way to the Bhair Lasian Council Chamber. It stood atop a hill, though that vantage point was subjective. To the valley city Nahlyve claimed as its capital, it was far above the heads of the everyday Nahlyvian. To the Sunfire Plateau and the mountain range surrounding it, the hill was merely a slight uptick in elevation.

Gaea shivered, drawing her thick wool shawl closer around her shoulders, feeling as miserable as she likely looked. She almost had the mind to pull her I'm the religious leader of the planet, you shouldn't keep me waiting card, but she decided against it. The Elders were already upset that she had called them together on such short notice.

Koeus O'bréann was the first of the Elders to appear at the top of the stone steps leading to the hilltop Chamber. He was a middle-aged man with long brown hair that whipped around in the wind and a piercing dark blue gaze that mirrored the Eastern Tectonic Sea. Unlike the other Elders, he did not represent one of the Ten Tribes of Nahlyve. He was a mediator of sorts, appointed to see everything through an objective lens and offer words of wisdom. Considering that he was the youngest of all the Elders, it was quite a feat that the others listened to him.

Koeus offered a warm, paternal smile and she returned it. "Good afternoon, Elder O'bréann," she greeted with a slight bow. He extended a hand and she took it, folding their fingers over the top of each other's hand. She tapped her middle and ring fingers against his skin twice and he copied the gesture before their hands released.

"Good afternoon, my dear, and happy Gaoleth."

"Happy Gaoleth, indeed," Gaea echoed, glancing up at the sky once again. Gaoleth, literally the "Change Winds," signaled the beginning of the single most significant event in the lives of the Nahlyvian people, despite never being predictable. Nahlyve ran on a peculiar sort of clockwork, its change consistent in its inconsistency. Seasons shifted as they did on countless other planets, though Taladagh, god of the earth and life, had a mind of his own. He and his wife Danéru liked their own sort of rhythm that swayed and danced to a song very few could hear.

It was not long after that the rest of the Elders arrived and filed into the open-air amphitheater. Twelve seats of stone lay in a circle inside the cobblestone wall that shielded them from the brunt of the wind. Ten Elders for the Ten Tribes of Nahlyve, Koeus as the Mediator, and Gaea to provide any kind of insight from the gods of the Force. They talked for hours, the daylight fading and the braziers lighting. A large bonfire was set in the center of the circle for warmth, and the discussions continued several hours into the night. The wind only seemed to get worse, but the Elders paid no mind.

By the time Koeus had to intervene and put it to a vote, Gaea was torn — not that her vote mattered at that point. On one hand, having the aid of the Jedi, who were much more experienced in such things, would be a great advantage. On the other hand, Gaea had successfully avoided her past for nearly a decade. She quite liked not having to face her ghosts (or, rather, one ghost in particular).

"It has been decided," Koeus announced over the crackling of the fire. "In light of the emergence of the first Dorch Meádá in several thousand years, the Council of Elders has decided that it is not within our power to end the threat. The Lasa Meádaí will go to the Republic Capital of Coruscant and ask for the help of the Jedi Order."

"It has been decided," the voices of the gathered filled the air and echoed across the hilltop, a dysfunctional symphony of hope, excitement, wariness, and resigned anger. Gaea looked up at the sky, where the wind was determined to tear a hole in the clouds.

"Gaoleth, indeed," she murmured.

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a/n: Obi-Wan's in the next chapter ;) Finally, I know! But all this build up will be worth it. Act I is all about establishing the world, after all