Lost Magic of the Pegasi

Clemente had been waiting for this night for almost fifty years. He was ninety-two years old. His body ached with every step toward the cliff on the edge of this isolated prison island. The cold night breeze and light rain pushed the pain deep into his bones. He pulled his winter cloak around his body and walked with determination of his will when his body wanted to stop. He stopped and coughed for over a minute, and his aging legs tried to give way. But he breathed as deeply as he could and considered the importance of his role in the events to come. His feet continued up the hill until he finally reached the edge of the high cliff. Clemente sat on a large stone and tried to gather his energy. He looked out over the vast sea below, a dark rolling mass in the storm. The light of both moons was mostly obscured by the clouds, but he knew that eyes keener than his own could navigate even on a night like this. The lives of many depended on his failing health and a young creature he had never met.

He began to extend his mind into the air with eighty years of practice. The distance from the mind he wanted to contact was greater than he had ever attempted before. The old man sat for more than an hour searching for an unfamiliar mind. His body was almost frozen from the cold, incessant rain. Almost unconscious, the old priest felt a presence. She was young, weaned only a few months earlier. But the mind seemed docile and malleable. She was close. The rain muffled the sounds. He took off his hood to take advantage of his remaining poor hearing. His long white hair became soaked in a matter of minutes. His beardless face felt frozen. His hope of surviving the night faded. Finally, he heard the sound of large wings approaching.

She did not have a proper name. The two-legged animals gave her a name when they spoke of her. Little Feather, the bipeds called her. A thoughtless name. Of course, her feathers were small, she was only twenty years old. If her feathers were bigger and her fur thicker, she would not be so cold. A mind had touched hers in the night. A mind far from the stone nest the bipeds had built for her and her family. The flight was difficult due to the rain and the cold. But she had flown quickly over the sea due to the strong urge of the mind. In the distance, her eyes could see one of the bipedal animals sitting on the ground high above the sea. She landed on a clearer part of the cliff and quickly stopped in a very small space. Her size helped her. A larger Pegasus could not land there. A more experienced mind would never have tried. The scent of the animal was difficult to perceive in those conditions, but there was something familiar about the smell.

Clemente spoke to her with his mouth and his mind: You are so beautiful. You have new feathers, the first in your life since your mother stopped feeding you.

He looked at her with his dark eyes, clouded by age.

Clemente spoke gently but firmly: And so strong to fly this distance without stopping on a night like this. And your eyes, as green as the first grasses of spring.

She approached the animal timidly. His words were kinder than most others in the large nest where thousands of them lived. Her nose filled with his scent. She understood why it was familiar. Her thought pierced the mind of the priest like a flaming arrow.

Little Feather: Thief!

Clemente quickly responded: Sweet beauty, your All-Mother does not know the truth. No one in your family does.

Little Feather pushed her thoughts toward him: Liar! You have stolen the magic of my mothers and the mothers of my mothers!

The man grabbed his head in pain from the force of the thought that had entered his brain.

Clemente pleaded: You must listen to me. I received her magic by chance. If I die here, the magic will be lost forever. You cannot receive it. Only an All-Mother can receive the magic from my body. Take me to the nest of the bipeds and I assure you that this magic will pass back to your family. You have the future of your family and its magic on your wings tonight. I am not heavy. You can carry me.

She considered the meaning of his thoughts. Without magic, they could not choose a new All-Mother. The current All-Mother was false, she did not carry the memories of the Pegasi nor the magic of the All-Mothers. She was young and knew little about the world. But every one of her sisters longed for a true All-Mother to lead them.

Little Feather walked to the side of the biped and knelt so he could mount her. Clemente had a hard time climbing on to her. His body was weak from age and the weather. He grabbed his cane and pulled a thin rope from his doublet. He dropped one end of the rope to the ground.

Clemente thought to her: Use your mouth to move the rope to my other hand. Please lovely one.

She did not move to help him. With a sigh, the old man concentrated for a few seconds, mentally he pulled the end of the rope up, wrapping it around the neck of the Pegasus and inserting it into his right hand. He quickly tied the rope in a loose loop around her powerful neck. He wrapped a loop around his cane and held as tightly as he could.

Little Feather: False magic!

Clemente said weakly: Fly if you want true magic for your family. Fly fast, or many lives will suffer.

She ran the flat distance along the cliff and jumped. The sea, immense, was approaching quickly, and it meant death for both.

When the man was sure that she could not save them, she spread her wings and leveled out from her dive. She flew at the height of a man over the sea. Then, with great movements of her wings, she gained height and flew with a speed greater than most birds toward the great nest of the bipeds. The flight lasted over two hours, and the old man was almost dead when they arrived.