The Golden Duke & The Maestral Wind
Legends of the Quetzenarch:
Archno Quetzenarch met the Golden Duke on the Lake of Fallen Stars; the ancestral waters of the Quetzenarch. They spoke for days and, inspired by the Golden Duke’s dream, Archno swore fealty to the Generex. After speeding The Golden Duke on his way, Archno was left by the lakeside pondering—
Crack!
Archie’s nib broke mid-sentence. He cursed and threw the broken quill aside. His gaze wandered out the window. He could see clear down to the docks. Shipwrights, merchants and soldiers swarmed about all manner of vessels... Archie shook himself and went back to his work. His Neran tutor, Grammarian Ta’Aresh was too fond of administering the knout for tardiness...
—his future. He was in such turmoil that he couldn’t sleep, so he took his yacht out onto the waves. As he drifted he fell into a waking-dream and saw a star fall from heaven and crash into the lake. When the glow subsided, before him was a great wyrm clothed in prismatic scales and rainbow feathers; storm clouds boiled around the creature and the waters of the lake seemed to dance eagerly beneath it. The wyrm spoke:
“I am the Couatl Maestral
Suzerain of the Northwest Wind
I am the gale that cuts through storms
I am the Wave that carves the Ocean
Follow my breath to the shores
Of my Trackless Sea
Find my city in half the moon
At the edge of my home!”
At this Archie couldn’t help looking out over the city beneath him. From his vantage in the Lair of the Quetzenarch, which crowned the high ground, he could see all the innumerable wharfs, houses, workshops and jetties snaking out across the shallows caressing the harbour...
—So Archeno packed all his kin into their boats and led them Northwest. Eventually they crossed into wetland, one constantly buffeted by a fresh Northwesterly wind... The Maestral wind. It was lush and vibrant but stagnated under the draconian Kamay Dukes—
That same wind gently caressed Viscount Archendale Quetzenarch, heir to the Count and the Wave Serpent in Waiting; and brought to his ears the low grumble of horns. He glanced up and saw that three coastal cutters, stuffed with Janoan marines and To’reshian sailors. Each proudly flew the Owl of Genera and the Wave Serpent banner. They had just tacked into the Harbour. Panicked, Archie quickly tried to conclude his epistle...
—Archeno wandered for years, righting wrongs and searching for Maestral’s home. The Genera he spoke of seemed like utopia to a populace crushed beneath the Kamay boot.
Finally, Archeno, his family, and army of local retainers found themselves but a few miles from the coast. As the half-moon rose, they crested a rise and for a moment beheld a river flowing into a wide and beautiful harbour surrounded by fertile shallows and perfect high and defensible ground.
Suddenly, the whole host, except Archeo, was flattened by a Northwest wind as an enormous storm boiled into existence in the centre of the harbour. Maestral descended from the heavens and spoke to all present:
“My children
Guardians of these Shores
Stewards of my kingdom
Hold fast to your dreams
Trust the waves
And honour the breeze.”
Then Maestral plunged into the depths of the harbour. Archeno immediately founded his city, and named his capital: Afmende Mere, or halfmoon sea and from there claimed the whole of those wetlands as Maestral’s Rest.
“Archie!”
As Archie scratched his last glyph, the screen door to his study crashed open. Laeyera stormed dramatically into the room and walked right up until she was almost on top of him. She was tall for a Waerd, with nutmeg skin and amber eyes. As beautiful as she was, her naval brilliance, engineering genius and steadfast Drasean Al’Tifali faith were even more impressive. Though their betrothal was arranged, Archie found more to respect in her every day.
“I’m-”, he started.
“Never mind that now!” She said, grabbing his hand and half-dragging him out of the room.
Archie let her take his hand (in grievous breach of To’reshian courtship protocol) and hurried happily away with her. As they ran out the fort’s entrance towards the harbour, Archie looked up and saw his vibrant Waerd betrothed with her hair streaming in the Maestral breeze and the whole bustling harbour behind her. All at once, his heart leapt as he saw everything it meant to be a Quetzenarch:
The sea, our family and the Maestral wind.
