Far, far away in a world riddled with rifts in the fabric of reality is an island. This island floats on the currents of the wind far above the land below and just below the clouds. There is a ceiling there of only a few miles.
The island is called by the land-dwellers the Isle of Storms. By the natives, however, it is known as Jahiya. In this land, the water is vitally important. If even for an hour the mists depart and the rains stop and the thunder ceases, the island will become a desert and all life will cease save for that of the humanoid population known as the Yrnaks. As soon as the rains begin again, however, the life will blossom and grow once more.
The Yrnaks are a strange group in appearance. They have skin and hair almost exactly the same color, but the hair is either darker or lighter than their cuttlefish toned skin. Their sepia bodies blend with the muddy ground and wet wood of the area. Their eyes, however, are more often than not unnatural colors. Many of the inhabitants have metalic eyes or regular-types of red, orange, purple, yellow, white, and combinations thereof.
There is only one village on Jahiya, and that is the village of Marnaqa. In Marnaqa, the Yrnaks live without hassle. They have never known conflict, and they are peace-loving. They are average by other Earthly standards as well as the standards of the planet which Jahiya orbits. Very few, however, know this.
In Marnaqa is a young man just leaving his adolescent years. His hair is just barely darker than his body, and his eyes are deep purple specked and flecked with white. His name is Palvion, meaning "sky-cleaver."
At Palvion's birth, there was much ado. He was the son of the chief of the village, and the only child born to the ruler. The chief's wife had lost her ability to bear children and somehow survived. No matter how often the couple tried, they could never again conceive. This was only part of the problem, however. The wise women of Marnaqa and Jahiya made a prediction. They said that Palvion would become a beloved leader, but then he would leave the island. He would leave the Yrnaks to fend for themselves, and he would become known as the sky-cleaver in every sense of that word.
No one thought to tell this to Palvion, though everyone knew it. Thus, Palvion is begining to learn all the trades of the town from carpentry to blacksmithing to weaving in order to fully understand each and to become a good leader. However, most people are edgy around him. This is because all know the prediction and no one knows what a sky-cleaver is and if it is good or bad. Thus, when Palvion gets exceptionally irked by the cold reception the town gives him, he begins to wander the perimeter of Jahiya. Such is not a day.
Palvion slips through the underbrush of Jahiya, humming a jaunty tune. A clap of thunder and a spurt of heavier rain raises his spirits a hair or two. The mud squidges through his toes and the cold water runs in tiny rivers down a mild incline. Palvion turns and strides silently through the leafy jungle to where the water no longer can flow - the edge.
Palvion sits a few steps from the edge of Jahiya and looks up into the sky. A little bit away from the clouds that forever cover the island is the sky. It is a glorious shade of forget-me-not blue, though his closest equivalent are the tiny blue flowers around his feet. He smiles, watching the sky and the clouds as Jahiya zooms through the skies of the world.
Then, Palvion changes his view and he begins to stare down to the ground. Far below him is the sea, and in the sea are islands - real islands. They are not these fake air-traveling lands, but true, stationary, sea-dwelling lands. He sighs.
"Does something trouble the young prince?" an older, feminine voice asks.
"Naught."
"The young prince seems not at ease."
"He is at ease."
"Does the young prince desire something?"
"Land. Sea. Freedom to roam where he wants to roam and when he wants to do it."
"Such should not be the desire of a prince. Such should be the desire of a wayward."
"Perhaps the prince desires to be a wayward."
"The prince cannot be a wayward. He must serve the people."
"As if I haven't heard that enough times in my life. What do you want, Granmya?" he asks, using the polite term for an older woman. He turns and sees one of the most hideous hags he'd ever laid eyes on. He wants to grimmace, but he catches himself in time.
"Marki, if you would. I have come to tell you how you can fulfill both your heart's desire and your duties to your people."
"Oh?"
"Yes. You are born of a legend, and it is about time you knew of it."
"How do I know you're not lying to me?"
"Everyone is born of a legend. Yours just happens to be far more significant than that of many others, so others know it. Trust me. Did your mother never tell you that very rarely do old women lie?"
"She did tell me such a thing, but there's something about you..."
"Stop dawdling!" Marki grabs Palvion's wrist, and the stench of ozone fills his nostrils. He closes his eyes in fear.
When he opens his eyes, Palvion finds himself in a dark room standing beside Marki and looking into a glowing mirror. In the mirror is his reflection alone. Marki is not shown at all.
"What do you see, young prince?" she asks him.
"I see Palvion, Prince of the Yrnaks. Why have you brought me here?"
"I brought you nowhere. It was by your powers and your desire to know the truth that you came here. I came along as a guide."
"Who said I needed a guide?"
"If you do not know where you are, you are lost. Lost people need guides. Where are you, young prince?"
Palvion sighs. "I know not."
"Good! I shall tell you! You are staring into the Destiny Glass. Through this, each person can see what he or she will become. Stare hard, and look into your reflection's eyes."
Palvion does as he is told. Suddenly, his calm, placidly purple eyes resolve into so much more; they become brighter purple and have white stars set around the pupils. He jumps, but his reflection stays calm. It is him in perhaps a year. His reflection holds itself with strict confidence and steely calm.
"Th-that will be me?" he asks, incredulous and fearful. What could make him become such a monstrous Yrnak? The eyes of his reflection are harsh, but deep within, there is some sort of humor. Palvion blinks, and a dark form appears behind the reflection.
"Yes," Marki says calmly, proudly. "You will be Sky-Cleaver."
"What!? Sky-Cleaver is a legend! I can't be him! There's no way! He was powerful and brave and strong and had absolutely no care for laws whatsoever!"
"But you are him, young prince. Your soul is his soul. Long ago, Sky-Cleaver lived. His land was ransacked with war, but he knew that his people would survive. They had to. So, he went to the Temple of Lightning. There, he prayed to the gods and godesses of rain, lightning, thunder, hail, and storms. They granted him a wonderfully terrible power: that to tear open the sky and place in it what he desired."
"You make him sound like he was some sort of perverse hero."
"He was, Palvion. He saved the Yrnaks from total annihilation."
"But did he not break some sort of sacred law?"
"Indeed. One law that the deities gave him was that he could not take the Sacred Stones into the sky with the Yrnaks. He did, though, for they were what the Yrnaks depended on for all their terrestrial lives. When the gods saw this, they were furious. They caused him to go insane, and only his young wife could save him, and that was by clinging to him and jumping with him in her arms to the earth below. Sky-Cleaver was dead."
"So he's dead. How can I be Sky-Cleaver, then?"
"Your soul is his soul. You must undo what he has done. You must gather the Sacred Stones and destroy them, one by one, and then we can return to the land."
"So I must..." Palvion stares into the mirror again, and as his reflection fades, the dark shape behind it becomes more defined before disappearing with his form. "What was that thing behind my reflection?" he asks suddenly.
"A dragon. They're like lizards with wings and special powers."
"I see." He pauses before continuing. "If Sky-Cleaver upset the gods of the storms, why does it always rain?"
"The gods desire their stones returned to them. So, they constantly visit the island of Jahiya to search for them. Before Sky-Cleaver died, however, he hid them, and he hid them well. Most are well-guarded, and the rest are seemingly impossible to reach. Go, search them out, and see what you can find."
Palvion nods, and the mirror fades. Darkness overwhelms him. When he awakes, he knows what he must do.
"What do you mean you're leaving!?" Palvion's mother asks, incredulously. "You're the sole heir to the Yrnak throne! You could die and then where would we be? You're going nowhere!"
"I have to. It's my destiny," Palvion answers calmly.
"And who told you this?"
"A little old woman named Marki."
"Lord Chancellor, when was the last Marki alive on this island?" Palvion's mother asks.
A man with blue feathers in his hair and a book in his hand answers, "The last Marki on Jahiya was born two years before the age of Sky-Cleaver, or so the records say." He pats his book reassuringly.
"You see! She was lying to you! And if she lied to you about her name, she could be lying to you about this!" the queen says.
"How do we know that Marnaqa is the only city on Jahiya? I'm going, Mother, and you can't stop me," Palvion replies testilly.
"I see I can't change your mind. Then I'm having Talb come with you to make certain you're not getting hurt."
"Blazes! No, Mother! I have to do this alone! This is my destiny, not Talb's! I wish I could have left you on better terms. Father didn't seem to mind at all that I was leaving."
"Your father is rolling drunk from the celebration last night!"
"So? He still told me to do what I had to do and don't worry about Marnaqa."
"Fine. Go. You'll not be my son when you return."
"Mother... Couldn't you be kinder to me? Please?" He gets nothing as a response. "Whatever happens, Mother, I'll always love you." He kisses her cheek kindly before leaving his home for the unknown of Jahiya.
As the door closes behind her only child, Galvya, Palvion's mother, breaks down into tears. She knows she could have been nicer, but she could not think of losing her only child, and now it is too late.
Background by Ender Design.