Arinda Brisk was a faery, of sorts. Faeries are different from fairies. Fairies are bedtime stories told to little girls. Faeries are different. Elves are a type of faery. Faeries are simply different humans. Magical ones. Dwarves. Wizards. Sorcerers. All faeries. The most commonly known faery (also the only with no proper name) is a human-like creature with wings. Most things about them are nonsense- they use wands, they live in flowers wearing petal skirts- but they are faeries. And, as Arinda learned, her parents were both faeries. Those kinds. But she was lost, stolen by jealous harpies who can have no children. Before they left her in the woods, though, they had the pixies, who could not fly, dip her in the Waters of Mortality. She was no longer a faery.
She was raised by humans, normal people. She was normal, almost. But as soon as she turned eleven years old, she started feeling things. Like... a longing, to go away, to be free. And when she turned twelve, it was unbearable. She dashed outside and fell onto the grass.
Well... almost. She fell an inch from the grass, brushing the blades. And she rose. She rose up to about ten feet in the air, standing up, eyes closed- and disappeared. The winds that came blew down the schoolhouse she had run out of. It knocked down a vase of pottery. It blew down those who had run after her. And she was not seen by her village again. The Winds took her, took her to where she needed to be. A weapons seller.
She had little money, but enough to buy a small spear, small enough to be a large arrow. She was bewildered, but knew it was what she was supposed to do.
She rode the Winds again, rising and flying, yet the kick was not as strong. The energy had been let out the first time, and she was now in more control.
Arinda Brisk landed lightly near a spy's hideout. She asked, politely, to join and was admitted after a test. There was a war stirring, rumors flitting. Was Murdoch planning an attack?
She was the best field spy they had. She was always where she needed to be, knowing crucial information. She became skilled with her arrow-spear, wielding it against those she was up against when she suddenly came down from the skies. And she began to unravel the mysteries of her strange power.
She was still of Faery blood, whether mortal or not. She needed to fly, and she did, on the literal Winds of Chance. They brought her where she needed to be, but several were there. She found she could traverse other winds, less important ones, but at a great price. She was not where needed and an ambush on her division was a complete surprise. Arinda Brisk did not make the same mistake again. She never did.
Because of Arinda, the war was won, and she gained fame. Arinda Brisk was the first to unravel the mysteries of Flight, and the first to even have the power, as far as is known. All others with Flight are her descendants,.
This is the abridged story of Arinda Brisk. Perhaps, one day, I will tell her full story, as well of that of Jamin Wind, her grandson. Perhaps I may have to, for legends always fade. . .