The Princess's Feathers

It’s Relmoon.

Calling me out at Flat Rock wasn’t enough, it seems. He had to do it again in front of the entire flock! What on Jade does he think he’s doing?

“Son-Of-Zuki,” Khosa chides, clearly irritated by his appearance. ”We seek approval for Asha’s admittance. It is not customary to object.”

“But object I must, esteemed elder. If you would only allow me to speak my concerns.” There’s something perceptibly sinister lurking beneath his calm and measured tone. It’s not unlike the voice Orlando uses when speaking to mom.

“And you have met Asha since she arrived?”

“I have.”

Khosa looks to me for confirmation. Unfortunately, we had talked to each other in Flat Rock, so I incline my head. She then glances at Meldi and Uma, who keep their faces straight. If they feel a certain way about allowing Relmoon to bend the rules, they’re holding it close to themselves. Khosa grunts and quickly says, “Say your piece.”

Relmoon tips his wings to acknowledge and turns to face the flock with a determined expression. “Brothers and sisters! I have a simple question for you: When was your last encounter with a Farlander?”

The crowd remains silent as they contemplate his question. To speak out without first being directed by an elder is forbidden (though clearly, it’s possible to bend that rule.)

“Ah, yes. I see some of you licking your chops. For those lucky enough, you believe your last encounter with a Farlander was at the end of a successful hunt. Keuvra teaches us that Farlanders are hapless prey animals, beholden to weak deities and foolish ideals. For countless generations, that is how we have coexisted: Hunter and hunted.”

Across the aerie, some of the Kin are nodding in understanding. Like it was in the hollow, Relmoon is striking a chord with a particular group of Kin.

"But the truth is, you are experiencing an encounter with a Farlander right now. This…" Relmoon draws his left wing towards me. "...Thing, this abomination of feather and claw that Keuvra refuses to deign an appearance to, is not a Dragon. It is every terrified Rabbit that fled to its den and every foolish Lemur who dared fight back against a brave child of Keuvra.”

Hushed voices of approval are stirred from the crowd as Relmoon pauses. Instead of identifying the dissenters, I keep my gaze averted and hold steady on the crimson Kin. I have to appear strong to the flock, even in the face of someone who questions the validity of my very existence.

“Princess Asha Eloise Lordanou may learn our stories, butcher False-Kin, and gallivant under Maki’s glow for a mate. But she is not Keuvra’s Kin. She never will be. And quite frankly…” Relmoon turns about to face the gathering stone behind him. His eyes narrow. “I’m having trouble believing why our esteemed elders even considered this girl.”

Uh-oh.

Fervent growls rise across the aerie at Relmoon’s provocation, reverberating against my chest and causing the mountain itself to tremble beneath my talons. It seems to question to the legitimacy of a Farlander is all well and good, but to go after the elders is a step too far for many of the minds he was trying to convince. Still, his expression is unwavering as the vocal opposition fails to affect him.

For their part, the elders are equally unmoved by Relmoon’s insubordination. Meldi and Uma are sitting with narrowed eyes, while Khosa looks on with a neutral expression. Ashene is sitting alone in the back of the stone, as pensive as ever. After a tense moment passes, Meldi moves to whisper something to Uma, who nods in agreement.

Armed with his approval, she rises to her talons. “I would like to ask you a question, Relmoon: Are you old enough to remember your grandmother, Fracolo?”

Relmoon quirks his head and considers his response carefully. “No, I don’t. I was a young kit when she died.”

“I figured as much,” Meldi scoffs. “If she had lived longer, Fracolo would have shared stories of the seasons when her and I flew to the far corners of the moon. Your grandmother loathed airship-prey more than any Kin I knew, and she lamented the loss of our summer hunting grounds until the day she passed onto Maki. She wished you could fly there too, Relmoon.”

“If Keuvra intended us to return to the summer grounds,” Relmoon says, “He would offer a way to drive back the airship-prey. The fact that he has not is an indication of the flock’s strength. We do not need the summer grounds or the help of outsiders like Princess Asha Eloise Lordanou.”

“Don’t be a stubborn kit,” Meldi growls. “Our flock is not invincible.”

Relmoon raises his voice, “More Kin agree with me on Asha than you think!”

Rggh.

From the back of the rock, another rumble interrupts the bickering, silencing Relmoon and Meldi. The eyes of the aerie are drawn to Ashene as he strides forward to stand wing-to-wing beside Meldi. He heaves a heavy breath and studies Relmoon carefully.

“Son-Of-Zuki,” he speaks slowly. “Your skepticism of Asha is admirable, and I share many of your concerns. But I have felt the bitter winds from the north and heard the birdsong in the trees. I know their twittering well — Azurrel heralds us a dark and cold frostwing, one where prey will be scarce, and Kin will be lost. We have a need for every soul with talons to prepare for the coming season, even those whose talons they are not yet comfortable with.”

Ashene’s gold eyes fall onto me. There’s wisdom in his face, the wisdom of someone who has lived for untold years and survived just as many harsh winters. I don’t care if Dragons like Relmoon or Ashene dislike me — Felra is not my home. In time, they’ll be a memory to me. But at least Ashene is willing to recognize my existence has purpose. I respect him for that.

For a moment, Relmoon is slow to follow up Ashene’s unusual appearance. But before he can open his muzzle, Khosa grunts to gather the attention of the other elders. They form a group, and after a hushed conversation, Khosa ambles forward again to speak. “Relmoon. We recognize the concerns you and others have about Asha’s admittance. We are willing to rescind the requirement Asha remain a member of this flock until Keuvra can provide us his guidance.”

Wait, seriously? They’ll allow me to leave the flock and return home?!!

Khosa stares down at Relmoon. “Is that acceptable?"

Relmoon ponders his response for a moment. He slides his head around, briefly pausing to hold his gaze on me and then to someone in the back of the aerie. He swivels back and says, “Yes. I believe it would be.”

I exhale. They’ll allow me to leave! Thank the Goddess! And to think, the Dragon I have to thank for this wonderful change of events is the one who hates me the most!

“So be it,” rasps Uma.

Meldi looks especially relieved as well. She dips her wings and says, “I’m pleased to hear it. With Relmoon’s concerns addressed, we may continue with Asha. If anyone else would vie for her, then raise your voice.”

“I will,” a gravelly drakon calls out with confidence.

“A-As will I,” a younger, cocky voice follows from the same spot. I recognize their voices but refuse to believe my ears until I follow their calls to the back of the aerie. I have to see who’s speaking with my own eyes.

Bonello sticks his neck out above all the other Kin around him. “If brave Ashene can support this girl, then so will I. Let’s see if she can bring back the summer grounds!”

Standing next to Bonello is… Enyll. Enyll!! “Asha was kind to my sister,” he says, keeping his head low. “Just... just give her a chance.”

I can’t believe it! Enyll’s vying for me! It sounded like that was the most uncomfortable thing he’s ever done in his entire life, but he did it! I turn back to the gathering stone and catch a glimpse of Ashene nodding to Khosa, who in turn nods slowly back to him.

“Then it’s settled,” Meldi declares. “The support for Asha’s admittance is overwhelming, and all parties have been satisfied.”

“Daughter-Of-Kelani,” Uma speaks slowly as elders look down on me. For the first time, his eyes seem gentle. “From this time forward, and for as long as you fly these lands, you will be known as a member of the Snowfell Flock — Kin-Of-Keuvra.”

Feathers shift as the elders and the majority of the Dragons in the aerie slowly dip their heads in unison before me. Taken entirely by surprise my muzzle goes slack-jawed, and I feel something comparable to goosebumps across my feathers. I really shouldn’t be in this much awe at their display of respect — I am a Princess, after all. But I can’t help but be overcome by warm and glowing joy, a type of reverence I’ve never felt before, least of all from a crowd.

Tears form in my eyes as I might to hold back wonderment. “T-thank you,” my voice wavers. I wish I could tell them just how grateful I am, but this is all the words I can muster.

“Then there is one final matter that must be decided,” Khosa says as she raises her head back up. “If she is to come of age, then Asha must be trained. We will ne—”

“I will!”

A strong voice cuts off Khosa. I whirl around to see — who else? — Kuro flying forward with a big, stupid grin across her face. She lands next to me and confidently declares, “I am the one who will be her mentor.”

“The one who found her,” Khosa muses. “How quaint. Does this suit you, Asha?”

“Mmmhmm!” I was only about to ask her if Kuro could train me. Of course it does!

“Very well then,” Khosa says in a weary voice, growing weak from talking for so long. She raises her head and addresses the crowd at large. “The relationship between mentor and apprentice is sacred — to pass stories and tradition to the next generation of Kin is essential for the flock’s survival.” She pauses to look down at Kuro and me. “You have successfully mentored many Dragons, Kuro. An explanation of your duties is not necessary. But as for you, Asha, your task is simple: Respect and follow Kuro’s wishes. The future of this flock rests on your wings.”

I tip my wings to signal my agreement. Not that I’m very great at following authority, but I thi—

Eh!?

My heart skips a beat, taken by surprise as Kuro rests a wing gently across my flank. “I’ll make Asha into a fine member of the flock. You’ll see!”

I gaze up at Kuro, brimming with confidence, then back toward the soot-colored wing draped over me. I’m feeling it again… that same fuzzy feeling I felt at the pond when Calypso placed his hand over my shoulder. It seems I can feel it as a Lithan too.... but, why? Why do I sometimes react profoundly to the sensation of touch?

Melid addresses the flock in a loud and clear tone. “Then, with that, our emergency gathering has concluded. Warm currents... and Asha.” she pauses to smile at me. “Welcome to the flock.”

The elders dip their heads and mantle their wings. Meldi, Uma, and Khosa begin slowly pacing to the rear of the gathering stone, but Ashene remains still. Instead of rising, he angles his neck upwards and stares at the ceiling like he were expecting something to happen. After a silent moment, his chest feathers relax, and with a considerable effort he clambers to his talons to join the others, his tail swaying thoughtfully behind him.