So now, I give you the Cloud City Cloud Council. Enjoy!
Cirissa stands poised before the Cloud
Council in the Sky Room. Though being the subject of their attention is always
unnerving, she is confident in her purpose.
“Cloud Masters, I’ve seen it for myself. The
Rim in Median is nearly impenetrable. Something has made it – unnatural. And I
tell you, several in the Ice Crystal Guard believe it is connected to the
sludge. It is our suspicion that Murkemer is experimenting with elements
unauthorized to him.” She narrows her icy eyes. “We believe he is up to
something.”
The Cloud Masters continue their casual
murmuring with each other at the crescent-shaped glass table that spans the
length of the Sky Room. The opaque floor beneath their feet shows the ocean
gently rolling far below. Cloud columns lining the room roil within their pillar
shapes.
Cirissa sighs with frustration. This topic
has been avoided too long now. She takes a deep breath and says, “Cloud
Masters, I must insist the matter of Murkemer’s suspicious activity be
discussed.”
She looks to the lovely Cloud Master
Tendril for help. Even though Master Tendril is the representative for the
highest sector of the highest cloud plane, her kind manner is a comfort to
Cirissa. Besides, when Tendril speaks – rare as it may be – Skybounds listen.
Tendril meets Cirissa’s eyes then rises
from her seat at the farthest end of the table. Iridescent, gossamer strands
flow from every inch of her wispy body. Her steps, light as air, carry her
forward. The delicate strands drift in her wake, then float independently
around her as she stops next to Cirissa. The other Cloud Masters hush.
“Gracious Cloud Masters, our esteemed Ice
Crystal Guard agent here brings a disturbing point to our attention.”
Cirissa can’t be sure, but she swears she
hears a “harrumph” escape in the guise of a cough from the center of the
crescent table. Master Bumble of the Cumulus Sector is suspiciously rubbing his
bulbous nose with his white-sausage fingers.
“Truly, Masters.” Tendril turns her head to
address the full council from one end of the table to the other. Her rainbow
strands of hair swish with the slightest movement. “Though few of my fellow
Crystalines in the Cirrus Sector are willing to acknowledge it, I cannot deny
what we have sensed brewing far below in the Stratus Sector.”
Cirissa breathes relief. Finally, someone
will support her.
Master Bumble clears a gooey gurgle from
his throat and says, “Blurble. Why
should we care what Murkemer is up to?” He sweeps a pillowy arm toward an empty
seat – a plush, gray gamer’s recliner complete with cup holder – at the end of
the crescent table. “He never bothers to show up for meetings, gurrup.”
“I have to agree with Master Bumble,” says
Cloud Master Shreddard of Cirissa’s own Cirrostratus Sector. In his smoothly
arrogant way, he says, “That kid’s got issues, sure, but why make him our
problem?” The sound of sharpening blades echoes through the Sky Room as he
leans his stick-straight, crystal-encrusted form back in his ice-spiked chair.
A smug grin curls the corners of his mouth as he crosses his arms.
Cloud Master Makryl of the Cirrocumulus
Sector, sitting to Shreddard’s right, strikes her scepter on the clear floor.
Her long, white ringlets bounce, but her round face remains serene. Very Bo
Peep. Everyone seems to sit up a bit straighter. She closes her lavender eyes
slowly. When she opens them, her icy lashes now adorn blazing red-orange eyes,
as though the sun itself shone from inside them.
Shreddard watches her in awe. His eyes
flicker with deep violet.
Master Makryl’s voice is lulling, almost
too calm, when she says, “I believe the most efficient way to deal with our
problem council member would be a swift volting. That will snap him out of
whatever sad, little issues he’s got in that sad, little head of his.”
Murmurs of ascent grumble throughout the
room. Even Cloud Master Loom, who typically tries to stay silent, nods her
enormous head, and the wind generated from her flying saucer-sized sunhat blows
down upon the council members. They all steady their goblets. Her floral Mumu
flutters dangerously with miniature lightning strikes.
Bumble reaches up and pats her gargantuan
knee. “There, there, my little Loomikins. It’s alright.”
Jagged hairlines of lightning flitters underneath
Loom’s brim.
The wind has spun Tendril’s ethereal
strands into a rat’s nest over every inch of her. She sighs, does a shiver
shake, and all the strands loosen in a flourish from the tangled mass and go
back to floating.
“My dear esteemed Cloud Master Makryl,”
Tendril says in an attempt to calm the energy in the Sky Room. “I am sure your
tactics work marvelously with your little charges. I am certain I am not the
only one here who has a deep appreciation for your service with our Cloudlings
and Shards. And I can’t even imagine how you work your miracles with all those
darling puffs.” She chuckles lovingly and tsk tsks. “You are a wonder, dear
Makryl.”
Cloud Master Makryl’s shoulders straighten
even more, though Cirissa can hardly see how that’s possible. Her face beams
with pride as she continues to look serenely upon the others. Shreddard eyes
her lustily.
Tendril continues delicately, “I’m just
wondering if there might be a slightly less, um, severe strategy for dealing
with Cloud Master Murkemer. Especially considering he is rather young and
somewhat new to our council. After all, losing his parents not so long ago has
been difficult for him, no doubt. And absorbing all the Stratus Sector
responsibilities, as we all know, is no simple matter.”
The council members remain reverent as they
recall Murkemer’s predecessor.
Cloud Master Drizzo of the Stratocumulus
Sector puts down her fingernail polish, carefully raises her goblet and says,
“To Cloud Master Slurry.” All members raise their glasses. “May his journey
through the Great Beyond be sweet and peaceful, just like he was.” Drizzo
carefully sweeps her out-of-control frizzy hair from her face and takes the
first sip.
They all take a sip. Cirissa notices a few
tears and sniffles. But when Loom goes to blow her nose with the tissue she has
stuffed in her stocking, everyone braces again.
Bumble frantically reaches over his head
and pats her knee like he’s trying to put out a fire. “There, there little
Loomy Poomy. Everything is alright. It’s okay!”
Loom thankfully sucks in her emotion with a
shudder. It pulls up everyone’s hair then drops it back down as she lets out a
quivering breath.
Cirissa can’t hold back. “But it’s NOT
alright.” She has never spoken so sharply to the council. “It is NOT okay!”
Tendril raises an eyebrow with a look that
shows she might be a little impressed. Then Cirissa notices her casting a
glance at Cloud Master Virgus of the Altostratus Sector. Virgus returns
Tendril’s look with a tiny smile as he lounges back in his zero-gravity lawn
chair, all tan and summery, with Bermuda shorts and flip-flops. He runs a hand
through his luscious, blonde locks, his biceps bulging under his Hang Loose
t-shirt. Tendril’s cheeks flush. He nods at her, apparently also a little
impressed with Cirissa’s more direct approach with the council.
Bolstered by Tendril’s look of approval,
Cirissa continues. “Please, esteemed Cloud Masters, “I’m not saying anyone has
to become his new best friend, or anything of the like. I’m simply wondering if
one of you might be willing to check in on him.”
No one seems to be able to make eye contact
with her. They’ve all become suspiciously interested in their goblet.
Then Cloud Master Castella of the
Altocumulus Sector pipes up bright-eyed, like she just got a dynamite idea. Her
hot pink wind suit crinkles as she slaps her hands on the table. “Could it be
considered a super-secret mission?” The tawny old Cloud Master whips her gray
hair into a bun on the top of her head, pops out of her wheely chair into ninja
stance, flips her dentures with her tongue, then snaps them back in.
Shreddard says, “Gross.”
Castella winks at him.
Cirissa blinks. “Well, I guess I don’t
think it has gotten to that point just yet. I was imagining just a friendly
visit. See how he is doing. See if he is in need of a little guidance, say.”
Castella deflates, yanks her bun out and
crumples back into her seat.
Shreddard rolls his eyes and says, “Why
don’t we send Drizzo.” He leans forward to look at the ashen-faced,
frizzy-haired Cloud Master down the table. “Weren’t you two like a thing?”
Drizzo nearly chokes on a swig of her
drink. Then she dabs her mouth with the sleeve of her dingy housecoat. “No way.
I mean, yes, we were, but that was a ridiculously long time ago.” She blows on
her freshly painted gray nails.
Shreddard notes, “You just broke up like a
month ago.”
“I know,” she says, unperturbed, and shrugs
him off. This matter is closed.
The council members awkwardly eye each
other for a painful amount of time. Cirissa is about to lose hope and start
working out another way to help her dear, dear Wayfare and the sweet little town
of Median.
Then a raspy voice echoes softly from the
far end of the table next to Murkemer’s empty chair. “I’ll go to him.” Cloud
Master Shroud’s quiet words barely escape from underneath the hood that covers
most of his face.
The council members all lean in to hear
better, but Shroud offers nothing else. A gloomy aura floats about him that’s
always made most of them feel uncomfortable, to some degree, but Drizzo seems
unaffected by it.
“Well,” Drizzo chirps, “there you have it.”
She reaches down rather indelicately to pull out the cotton balls stuck between
her toes now that their polish is dry.
Tendril and Cirissa look at each other then
back to Shroud. It’s not common for the Nimbostratus Cloud Master to speak,
much less volunteer for anything. This is indeed unexpected.
Tendril says, “Thank you, Cloud Master
Shroud. I believe I speak for all of us in saying we appreciate your
willingness to help.”
Shreddard says under his breath toward
Makryl, “Taking one for the team.”
Master Makryl swishes some of her long
ringlet locks aside and returns his comment with a knowing glance.
Cirissa isn’t sure on the details, but
Shroud and Slurry had been like brothers. Perhaps this will provide the perfect
opportunity for Shroud and Murkemer to get to know each other.
Shroud rises from his weathered, wooden
armchair. He folds his hands and nods so low that his entire face disappears
within his hood. Then he effaports into a fog that whips upward, and he’s gone.
Cirissa isn’t sure what to do or say. It
had happened so suddenly.
Shreddard takes no time. “Well, that does
it.” He begins to get up. The knife blade scratching of his innumerable
dendrites signals the end of this meeting. “Shall we adjourn?”
A general murmur of agreement rumbles
across the crescent table as the meeting breaks up. Cirissa stands forlorn with
Tendril. Virgus strolls over.
Virgus, his hands in his Bermuda shorts
pockets, says, “Well, we’ll see what happens.” He shrugs and knocks Tendril
playfully with his shoulder. “Shroud’s an odd duck, but he knows what he’s
doing. Right, Ten?”
Tendril smiles almost girlishly as her
gossamer strands still wave from his bump. She composes herself enough to say
with reassuring confidence, “Of course he is. Now, Cirissa, go to your Kindred
Wayfare. I know you worry about him. What does he think of having his little
brother as his new apprentice? The book has been planted and our little WISP
commander, Breeslin, reports Deret is on the way to discovering it.”
Cirissa smiles, but it’s forced. She feels
her face flush at the mention of Wayfare’s name. “He’s managing just fine. I
think he’ll warm to the idea. He seems …” she looks inward for the right word,
“… tired.” The look on her face betrays her attempt to minimize her feelings
for him.
Virgus tilts his head and grins warmly.
“He’s a good dude, that Wayfare. They don’t make ‘em like him anymore.”
“I know,” says Cirissa looking down through the clear floor. “I know.”
This was an interesting story that I liked and yet was a bit confused. Keep writing and I'll keep reading
ReplyDeleteCats are such great companions for writers. They keep us honest. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDelete