Upon the Winged Wind Gods We Ride

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. It was a magical sight to see—Iliana wanted to be first to taste the sugary mist as it settled on the sapphire drops of dew; radiant jewels that lit up the otherwise quiet night sky casting quiet ripples along the pathway of the river meadow.

“Darling careful, don’t get too close,” her mom would call after but Iliana wasn’t afraid. The sky had always called her name, beckoning, summoning, inviting her to come closer— Iliana-Celeste, Iliana Celeste. It was a dreadfully boorish name that didn’t flow well from the tongue but it was hers, and rightfully so.

Iliana Celeste had been named after the broad night sky—or at least that’s what she’d been told. Up until now she’d lived and longed for the beating rays of the tepid morning sun— that was at least until she saw the purple moon perched atop the faint scarlet flushed sky and all its glorious assortment of amethyst lined clouds—sparkling brightly in dancing harmony with the stars. It was a magical sight.

She wondered why her parents hadn’t named her something more glamorous like Hera, Thea and Persephone, or Athena, Ophelia and Aphrodite. No, no, no such names like that for Iliana—she was born on a night much like this with embers of lava and lush jade toned succulents crowding around. Even winged mares would swoop down on occasion to see the newest creature to arrive at Veleos—a City high in the Sky where the waves and her glorious clouds blended in natural harmony.

Nearby, knotted floral crowns hung atop the highest trees where regal sleeping owls nested. Veleos was an island amidst the turbulent seas where snaking mermaids rested upon salty beached stones and all the gods in the world couldn’t save them—that’s what they’d say— but Iliana knew better.

“Iliana darling—please—don’t go near there, come on, we have to get inside. Leave the clouds alone, leave them be.”

“But mother—a few more seconds, I’m almost done. The clouds are so close I can almost taste them…just one more second…”

“Iliana, we don’t have much time…inside, NOW, that’s an order,”

Oreithea’s severe tone was all Iliana needed to hear—but it was too late. The rigid frosty mountain air from the nearby wandering hills sent a spine-tingling chill up Iliana’s back as she was lifted from the river meadows and into a blanket of smoldering velveteen clouds, but these weren’t just ordinary, regular clouds—no, no. These were the wild clouds of dreams—taking the shape of winged beasts—horses, mares, six-legged myths; the face of a God with the sculpted body of an untamed wild Grendelaur.

Oreithea’s voice was lost in the winded chariots.

“She’s been chosen Oreithea; this day was marked since she was born. When the clouds turn purple and the sky lights with ravenous glory, the Sky Queen will raise her head and fly—you were told this prophecy, Xeremis came down from the clouds himself and warned you. Your daughter’s been chosen and there’s nothing you could have done; her fate was sealed. Veleos has summoned its rightful heir, our people need Iliana, we depend on her…” Dravhena—the eldest of the crowned oracles whispered as the breeze stirred like a cloak around Oreithea.

“Take me instead, you could have taken me,” Oreithea cried out, her shaky knees falling against the darkening sepia stained Earth.

“My daughter isn’t ready, she’s not the one…please, send her back…I beg you.”

“It’s done, my dearest Oreithea—when the time is right, we will return your daughter but she will be yours no-more, she will be one with the Skies, the Queen of Gods and Warriors,” Xeremis hissed, his harsh words beating down, swirling around Oreithea with a vengeance.

Iliana could see the faint trace of god-like men, winged to the hilts as three angelic women floated above her—their feathering wings relaying messages in the wind for her to hear, their long blonde hair flowing past their feet—“Iliana, my dearest one, you have been chosen,” the three angels words ran softly into the faint mirage of clouds, “we will be arriving soon—it’s almost time.”

Now Iliana knew what she’d been seeing this whole time was real—the roaring beast had known her name. The calm winds enticed her as she watched the sky city below grow smaller—each gathering friend and family member becoming dots likened to the starry night sky as she neared the blinding ancient gates of Tumulus—imposing golden-tinged loops of climbing jasmine and polished quartz.

“Welcome home,” the angels sang, their melodic voices echoing out amidst the silken lavender clouds. Iliana watched as the pearlescent gates parted and swirling clouds pulled her beastly chariot within. She’d never seen anything so magnificent in all her twenty-three years of life.

“King Zagreus and his army await your arrival my Queen,”

“Queen?” Iliana whispered, a look of confusion etched her face casting shadows of doubt.

“Yes, weren’t you told?” Xeremis asked, his tone brash, severe.

“Told what?”

“My dear, you are the Queen of all the Sky Clouds, the Islands, the Seas—where the salty foam meets the falling rains. We’ve been waiting for this very day for twenty-three years…”

Iliana sat stunned in her clouded throne. No one had ever told her such nonsense.

“No, that can’t be, I’m the daughter of a proper pauper and a common maid, my mom hatches the ferry-eggs and tends the river marshes. It’s not the business of a Queen’s daughter. Besides, why have I never heard of this before—“

“Iliana, Iliana Celeste—your name has been spoken, a gift from God, all the Gods—the Oracles chose you themselves. You’re the one who can save us…it’s you, it’s always been you.”

Iliana could see where the moon shone brightly above, a mere stepping stone from her seat. She couldn’t imagine herself being Queen, and Tumulus—this was a place she’d only ever dreamed about. It was nothing like Veleos below, she was sitting in a City likened by the Gods themselves—shaped from the heavens.

“This can’t be real,” she whispered as the frosty drops of rain fell, passing through her clouded world; she watched them melt as they surfaced high above Veleos becoming the cerulean drops of rain she loved so much.

Xeremis floated off to the steps of her winged-chariot, the Grendelaur’s hovering ever so gracefully nearby as he swatted drops of sapphire from her skin.

“It’s very real…watch out for those, they sting a bit at first but you’ll get used to it. Up here they're nothing like what you see down there…” he added, his voice taking on a gentler tone as he nodded down to where they’d just come.

Iliana grasped hold of his hand—“a bit of rain never hurt anyone, especially a mere Queen.”

And so it began—more icy drops of glittering blue whisked past Iliana as she slid carefully up the clouded steps that formed from her feet. She was finally home, the purple clouds beckoning her call as she prepared to train for battle.

“The King can wait, first you shall sleep,” Xeremis ordered, shooing the rising guards from her wake.

“Fine…My King will wait till morning but I shall turn the icy rain to blood and send the mountains bursting with fury at the thought of defeat…” Iliana whispered drowsily as she fell asleep listening to the dull drumming of incoming clouds.

“Whatever you say,” Xeremis whispered as Iliana floated asleep on the softest of clouds; he and his men keeping guard. Iliana hadn’t the slightest clue as to how right she would be come first blush of suns rotation when the bubbling clouds would rouse her from her rest and send her hurtling below at neck breaking speeds. No King or winged-chariot could save her when she dreamed—for they couldn’t see her as she was tossed and turned against a battling world that threatened to pull her by the heels to the bottomless seas beneath. But when the world finally stopped and she caught her breath, a surprise awaited her in the form of the most turbulent clouds of Tumulus—but what was it, a friend or a foe, a beast or a toad?

Her eyes opened, was she dreaming still? She looked down from her bubblegum clouds at the City of Veleos and wondered what her mom was doing—was she also dreaming, looking up at her? Was she worried or scared or blissfully unaware? Iliana wished to sleep, to see her mom, to let her love overcome her like the gradual tides of peace.

She wished to float off to somewhere else, or to deflate back to the land where she’d been born, but that life was to be no more. At that very instant more clouds appeared before her feet—leading up through mazes of overlapping twilight—higher and higher, obscured by more billowing sets of mist.

“Your Kingdom awaits my love…” a tender voice called out, “just step into the pooling headwinds and you will be home. Only you can make this decision...you and you alone.”

Iliana had no other choice, she stepped over the clouded stone steps of the gate, her eyes cinched close waiting for what would happen next as thousands of jewel toned star-flies circled around her—and all of a sudden the clouds opened under her feet and she felt herself disappear from sight.