THE SIDRA'S SONG

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley”, the Asha projected her voice to the listeners gathered. “When I was born there were no dragons or their Sidras. Magic was the stuff of legend”, she imparted sagely. This was a sobering thought. Magic, Sidras and their dragon familiars were essential to the health, wealth, and safety of their nation. Only a few here were alive to witness a reality without them.

“So where does our story begin? We must look back. Before the Unification, which we celebrate at this time every year. Before the War, which the Unification ended. Before the Rebellion, which became a war. Before the Discovery and Revelation. Before the Tribulations, that era riddled with suffering.

The Time of Tribulations was the culmination of a dozen centuries of stagnation and decline due to the absence of balance. For thousands of years the Mystics were required to defend their faith against political ambitions and more aggressive faiths, yet they were strong enough to maintain their autonomy and continue their work. Until a schism developed in an esteemed Lighthouse complex caused by Sidra Marika, a beloved Mystic and Asha even before she sang the song and called forth her dragon. One year she helped a king in distress and was introduced to the prince. He courted her relentlessly. Her brothers and sisters at the Lighthouse warned her if she broke her vows, she would lose her dragon. She sought the help of her tribe of mystics. They were loyal to her and ambitious as well. They liked the idea of their Sidra becoming a Queen. Together they made an enchantment to spellbind her dragon and their familiars to them when they left the Lighthouse, so they could still command their creatures to do the bidding of their new allies.

The Sidra Marika married her prince and shortly after he inherited the throne. They became the King and Queen and her Mystics ruled the court alongside the nobles. They used their familiars to help the aristocrats of the court ruthlessly exploit the surrounding territories. The dragon, a powerful creature of magic, slowly began to break free of the enchantment. As the Sidra surrendered her heart to her husband, the connection she shared with her dragon diminished. She used a fertility spell to conceive a child to secure the throne and start a dynasty. This act inadvertently broke her own weakened enchantment permanently and her dragon left her.

Needless to say, she was devastated. The love she had with the king and her joy to have a child was soured by her loss. She sang the song in desperation over and over. She beseeched her loyal friends to help her but it was to no avail. The king pleaded with her to let it go. She had magic and her Mystics were quite powerful, they maintained the hold over their familiars. She was jealous and bitter. She grew vicious and spiteful in her grief. She refused to return her Sidra’s amulet to the Mystics. She was certain the Ashas could help her regain her dragon. They reminded her that becoming a Sidra is a choice that comes with sacrifices and advised her to enjoy her family and kingdom.

Her infinite ire became directed at the Lighthouse and the faith. She offered herself as an asset to enemies of the Mystics. Once she firmly established herself with the nobility, she created the Order of the Defeated Dragon. Twenty-one nobles signed this charter vowing loyalty to the cause of eradicating Magic, Mystics, and the infrastructure of the Faith.

In those days truth was replaced by lies and enforced by violence. Lighthouses and mystery schools were razed. Mystics, Ashas, Sidras were hunted, tortured, executed. Mystical creatures were slaughtered when they proved untamable. All things magical were rendered practically extinct here on the Surface. Almost.

Many Sibyls warned brothers and sisters who were able to arrange escape when these attacks loomed. Though many Mystics survived, it was difficult and dangerous to retain the Knowledge through the generations. The Order searched out and destroyed all vestiges of the Faith they could identify. The Ashas of a council of Lighthouse elders convened to discuss a course of action for the preservation of magic for future generations. They divined the coming age would see them retreat into obscurity until a new age dawned. Like their ancestors once had, in the distant past, they left the Surface of the Earth. They sent a tribe to seek sanctuary with our cousins of the Inner world.

While Sidra Marika and the Order gained control of the Surface affairs, diplomatic and trade relations between the Surface and Inner worlds grew strained. As the balance disintegrated, we devolved into a savage state of existence in their eyes. Eventually our connection was almost completely severed. Almost.

Our refugees entered the Inner via the Land of Lights. They requested permission to emigrate, but also to build a Lighthouse where they could safeguard the Knowledge and bring it back to the Surface in time. They fully assimilated into their new home, making friends and having families.

They built what we call the Prime Lighthouse. The Mystics who lived there were called the Elders of the Lighthouse. They curated the ancient arts in a great repository filled with the collected histories of our faith and practices. They returned to the Surface periodically to remain connected to the remains of ancient tribes and to teach new Mystics. Inevitably their good works would draw the attention of our old enemy. The cycle ensued.

Many collectives of Mystics veiled as something else survived scrutiny for long periods of time and flourished for a while, then be snuffed out by the Order again and again. They succeeded in keeping the embers of magic alive in pockets around the Surface. They seeded the landscape with sacred places where the knowledge could be taught and applied.

The Prime Lighthouse was the mothership for infiltrating the Order’s tyrannical stranglehold on the peoples of the Surface. A third generation Prime Lighthouse Sidra, the famous Sidra Fazia, devised the plan that would come to fruition in my life. Which brings us to the Discovery.

Sidra Fazia and the other Mystics of the Prime Lighthouse chose from among the collection that was amassed. A selection of books, a grimoire of elementary spells, a chest of strategically chosen magical tools, a lexicon for learning the ancient language of magic, and a book of maps leading to collaboration with established Mystics necessary for reaching the Prime Lighthouse.

The placement of the hidden library was tasked to a tribe of Mystics who thrived in magic and the Faith by living on an inhospitable island. They travelled across the globe to fulfill the request of Sidra Fazia. They arrived and began to build the hidden library and a Lighthouse. The library was completed, but the rest would wait eight hundred years to be fulfilled.

Spies of the Order became aware of their efforts to build a lighthouse in a new land, but they did not learn of the hidden library. The tribe was forced to flee after hiding the entrance of the tunnel leading to the library and the plan was lost to time. Close to the end of her life and becoming impatient, Sidra Fazia sent a tremor to split the land, revealing the entrance to the library and sang a powerful enchantment which called three to make the Discovery.

Twyla Brookstone, Orla King, and Bastet Akil answered the call of Sidra Fazia’s enchantment. They three would resurrect the faith and bring magic back to us all. They were sent to survey and observe the landscape following the rupture. They found the tunnel which led to the hidden library. Every inch was lined with stacks of books and tables of objects. Shelves lined with artifacts. These were arranged carefully in the order meant to be observed. Savvy to the magnitude of what they had discovered, they kept it secret as they catalogued and relocated the horde for safekeeping.

They learned of the magical potential inherent in all of us, some more than others. They studied, practiced, then taught others carefully chosen to be part of the Revelation. These are the first Mystics and Ashas of our modern era.

And so, when I was born, in this valley there were no Ashas, Mystics, Sidras, or familiars. No Healers, Harvesters, Sibyls, Steppers, Sirens, Beast-masters, or the rest. No spells or potions. No mystery schools or Lighthouses. No magic”, she thumped her staff on the floor in lamentation, then paused. She was lost in time, yet completely aware of the rapt audience.

“Tell us about Sidra Nyx and Vaela Arthfael! Tell us about The Flock!”, a young voice called out eagerly breaking Asha’s reverie.

“Are you to be a Sidra then?” Asha asked smiling indulgently.

“I will!”, the teen answered confidently. Her chin jutted out stubbornly as murmuring criticism came from the audience around her.

“What about all the other skills you could have? No interest in being an Elementist? Healer?” Asha queried.

“There’s already an Elementist and a Healer in my tribe”, she indicated her companions. A fledgling tribe of Mystics ready for anything. Asha was pleased.

“Will can take you pretty far, but there is no guarantee for a Mystic that they will become a Sidra. Even if you train to be one. If the dragons don’t respond to your song, that’s it. We all sang the song, but only Nyx called forth a dragon. That’s what you want to hear about?” Asha asked wryly.

“Yes, please, Asha Shyla. And Prime Sidra Fazia!” the youth pleaded, the voices of her companions’ echoed agreement around her. A couple of elders attempted to stifle the enthusiasm of the youngsters. Asha Shyla tipped back her head to squint at the petitioners in consideration. They waited, squirming in suspense.

“Because this is the centennial celebration of The Unification, I will tell you a special story. A story you know with something extra that you don’t”, she teased with a sly little smile. “I will tell you about the journey to the Prime Lighthouse. Where Nyx did sing the Sidra’s song and call forth the magnificent Vaela Arthfael to be her dragon familiar. Also, where I called forth this big lug, who has no respect for this auspicious occasion”, she said with humor poking a two hundred pound wolflike beast with her staff. The creature was belly up sound asleep.

“Yes, Yes, don’t forget about The Flock!” she trilled.

“How could I forget about the Flock? I was a member, after all”, Asha chuckled. “We came together by fate and by design. It was like no other experience I had up to that point or since.”