Teach Me The Wind

Arthur was instantly the coolest kid in class.

While 'class' was actually a small troop of very young kit, roaming by air from place to place, and 'cool' was actually words like 'lit', 'brilliant' and 'Sol-given', the effect was the same.

Landing messily at the base of a small mountain, the group of seven instantly burst into gossip, words difficult during flight, especially for those new to the art. Arthur found himself leaping to literally grab at one kit, the smallest and also the oldest, a crow-solson of sixteen. His was called Corvo, a name he had recently chosen for himself.

Arthur didn't know what his birth-name was. He had asked and received nothing but a confused and hurt look in response.

Playfully shoving, Arthur pressed Corvo for answers.

"So you were really the first?"

"To break? Yeah! But it doesn't count," he admitted "I wasn't in the pack then."

"What was it like, what did you do?"

Corvo sighed, thinking back with a big grin. "I pushed. Really, really hard."

"Well that doesn't sound so b-"

"I collapsed a building."

Arthur was taken aback. Corvo was a friend, and was even closer now they both had a somewhat mature ace to talk about. This was the first time his birdlike friend had told so much.

Arthur noticed that most of the others were bickering over food, the rest distracted with their feathers or gossip. They were somewhat alone.

"Somefolk showed up. They taught me things, nae was a netic like me."

"Should I find someone like that, too?" Arthur was electrified at the idea of a super-power-teacher. Giving all the secrets, making him a superhero.

"Cool."

"You should see a House at the next town, you'll find someone there."

Arthur nodded and stopped himself. "What's a House."

"House of Didact, where solfolk learn stuff about acetica."

Arthur had never wanted anything so badly in his entire life.

--

The building was tall, somewhat broad, and thin. A classic Symbian apartment block. Yet it was only a shell, a maze of simple lines, no rock, no walls, no true flooring.

Arthur leapt to the sky and wheeled around the enormous shape, lost in the delirious freedom of flight. After reaching the city, he had inquired at the House, a squat building made out of glass, and the guide there had smiled.

"Oh yes, hullo young Elem, go across city to the block being built. We'll message ahead."

With only that vague direction and that rueful smile to go on, Arthur had set off, the construction zone visible from the moment he had arrived at the city.

Alighting on top of the structure, taking a moment to fuss over wings, paranoid of an unprepared fall, the gryph used his laser-focus eyes to inspect the flurry of activity.

The framework was alive with solfolk. He watched as brawnics moved enormous lengths of metal, passing them and ordering them as if they were foam movie props. Only the thunderous clang of a quickly dropped pylon gave away the true nature of the struts. They must have weighed many tons each.

Netics shifted the great shapes, and slammed bolts into place. One flew upwards through the structure, deftly zipping around crossing metal, a dozen or so metal lumps floating alongside, like satellites, dragged with naes will.

A fire-elemental sat on one cross-strut, welding, or something like it, blasting fierce heat at a joint between two support struts, pausing to inspect, and then placing a material of some kind, blasting again with flames suddenly of blue.

One solson, a tiny shape of perhaps only a foot, zipped from point to point, floating, teleporting, wickedly fast, carrying a perella-projected holo, pausing only to launch into a tirade at the elemental, who stared blankly, and then returned to work, flames now green instead of blue, corrected in some subtle way.

Arthur found it all as confusing as it was exciting.

Overhead, a large rectangle of dull brown soared, coasting lazily, a massive piece of ugly paper, drifting in the wind.

The shape eased directly at Arthur, and he leapt off to avoid it, watching from the air as it slipped into place, settling perfectly on top of some struts, part of a would-be floor for the top story.

A woman was standing atop the sheet, riding it like a ridiculous surfboard. A lion-fae, with enormous wings, fur and feathers all covered in swirls and dives of cream and white, set against a deep tan-brown.

As she waved, smiling at him and coaxing him closer, he nearly fell out of the sky, for she was beautiful beyond words Arthur could muster.

"Come Elem Arthur," she called.

Arthur descended, heart hammering in his chest.