The Princess's Feathers

My name is Her Majesty Princess Asha Eloise Lordanou XIX, heir apparent of the Lilac Throne of the Holy Kingdom of Ellyntide. I am the 27th heir in our Kingdom’s long and storied history, a proud legacy that extends back centuries to ancient times. Someday I will ascend the throne as Monarch and preside over millions of souls.

SCRREEECHH!!

YI-YIP ROOARR!!

Presently, my chest feathers are being sprayed with blood from the ruptured coronary of a dying Litsha, a quadrupedal feral clad in thin tan fur that lives on the continent of Felra. As piercing screams fill the damp morning air, I continue my unyielding assault against my prey, aided by my hunting partner Frope, a young Lithan fledge who’s also learning how to hunt for the very first time. As she holds the prey’s forelegs steady, I rake bloody claws deeper into the feral’s chest, shredding it to pieces and causing still more blood to stain the forest floor. The air is heavy with the scents of fear and death — our prey is scared and knows its life is about to end. How wonderful. Prey tastes better when it dies afraid.

Oh, I almost forgot: I turn 24 years old next week!

…You don’t find this macabre sight befitting for a woman of my stature? Well, I respectfully disagree!

Since I began learning how to hunt, it’s become somewhat of a morning routine: Wake up, preen my feathers, get a drink from the river, murder ferals for breakfast. What else do you expect me to do? I can’t rely on a cadre of the Kingdom’s finest chefs to serve breakfast hot and ready the moment I step into our family’s dining room anymore. If I want something to eat out here, I have to kill it myself.

Up to now, this is how most of our hunts have gone. Kuro will scope out a potential area for prey, directing us where to go and how to approach it. Sometimes we stay hidden in the underbrush, waiting to ambush prey as it passes. Occasionally, we throw caution to the wind and chase headlong after it. Despite being a fweghing Dragon, I’m pretty quick on my talons! Once we have prey in our sights, Frope and I take turns. One of us will pin down the feral while the other moves to make the killing blow. It’s a nice system, making it easier to practice attacking the vulnerable points of prey while having to worry less about getting hurt ourselves.

Rrrgghhh…

Back in the moment, it seems my prey is giving up. Or death is simply taking hold. I smack a talon against its chest to stop it from twitching and lunge for the neck. The wailing stops, and the Litsha goes limp. Viscera flies as Frope and I waste no time getting to work on our prize.

Breakfast is served.

A few moments into the meal, I smell Kuro’s scent approaching on the breeze. Snarfing down another mouthful, I tilt my head to see her bounding around the corner of a giant sequoia. Her face brightens at witnessing the outcome of our hunt. “Well done, you two! You’ve become quite the formidable team.”

Without lifting my head, I dip my wings to signal appreciation, and Frope does the same. I have come to learn that Lithans never interrupt a meal to talk. They find it quite rude.

Kuro approaches and surveys our kill. As the fresh blood on her muzzle and chest feathers would indicate, she’s been out killing her own breakfast. “I think it’s time to advance your training. You’ve both proven yourselves ready to hunt for prey alone.”

I flutter my wings in excitement, quickly swallowing the last mouthful of meat. “Really?! Oh, that’s wonderful!”

Our training is progressing quickly, as me and Frope have only been allowed to hunt with each other as a team for the past week. At least, I think it’s been a week. I’ve been gone from ascendant society long enough that I’m no longer sure what day of the week it is or how many days have passed since I transformed. But that’s okay because being able to hunt alone is one of the critical skills I’ll need to rely on when I return to Ellyntide. If I can learn this as quickly as I learned to hunt with Frope, then it won’t be long before I’m flying across the strait to Sarlain territory.

Kuro looks down on me like mom used to when I was young. “Asha, We’ll start by teaching you the most important technique for hunting in the Farlands: Swooping.”

"Swooping?” What’s that?

Frope raises her head from the Litsha and licks her chops clean. “It’s when you dive out of the sky and snatch prey with your talons!”

“That’s right,” Kuro says. She beckons with her wings to follow and starts trotting back toward the clearing we landed in. I follow her as she explains, “Thanks to Asha, we now know Farlanders herd prey into large groups to farm them. This is an important source of prey for us as well.”

I see! So Lithans have a name for their technique to prey on our livestock. I feel bad knowing I’ll be stealing from some poor, innocent farmer, but it really is too enticing of an opportunity to pass up. A lot of livestock gets butchered for food anyways, right? Once it becomes known that I’m the Princess, I’m sure they’ll understand why it was necessary.

Frope kicks away a bone with her hind leg and catches up to Kuro and me. “All that easy prey! You don’t know how lucky you are, Asha.”

I ruffle my wings of some of the morning moisture built up around them. “Tomcat, under my authority as Princess, I hereby permit you to visit my den in the Farlands anytime you want. I will personally assure that our farmers bring out the easiest prey just for you!”

Tomcat growls in delight. “Heh-heh! I’ll hold you to that offer!”

Kuro looks over her wing with abject confusion. “Tomcat?”

“Heh-heh!” Tomcat straightens her neck and grins. ”That’s my Farlander nickname! Asha gave it to me!”

“Your nickname is Tomcat,” Kuro repeats herself like she was having trouble believing her ears. “Asha, what’s a Tomcat? And why did you give Frope a nickname?”

“Receiving a nickname from a Farlander Princess is a grand honor,” I lie. “And Tomcat reminds me of my pet cats, Bro and Pro. They’re feisty, sassy brothers that fight against each other one moment and then groom each other the next! It’s a very fitting nickname, I assure you.”

My explanation appears to have done nothing to clarify the situation to Kuro as she’s staring at me with her head tilted and her mouth slightly agape. She gazes down at Tomcat, deferring for help.

“Okay, so I was confused too,” she says. “But according to Asha, Farlanders keep prey in their dens and never eat them! Ever! Instead, they think of them as like, their friends, and they call them ‘pets.’ It’s really weird.”

Oh, that’s right. In Felra, the idea of keeping your dinner around as companionship is absurd. “I’ll have to explain it to you too, Kuro.”

We trample through a patch of juvenile pinaceae and find ourselves back in the clearing we landed at, one of the smaller ones we’ve come across during our travels. With barely enough room for all three of us to stand in it, me and Tomcat wait at the edge of the trees to allow Kuro to lead the way.

“Tonight,” she smiles, unfurling her soot-plumaged wings. The sun rises behind her, outlining her feathers in gold and casting a slight shadow in front of her. "I’d love to hear it. But I think you’d agree your training comes first?”

“Always,” I say. “Lead the way!”

“There. By those trees. They’re stepping out to graze.”

Kuro angles her ears forward, pointing the way toward a herd of spikehorn departing the safety of a copse of sequoia trees. The deer-like creatures bend their tawny heads towards the sky, showcasing an impressive display of antlers as they watch for predators like us.

“Can they see us?” I ask, crouched on a mighty branch next to Kuro and Tomcat.

“Not from this distance,” Kuro says. “Their vision is poor, so we’re safe to watch from here.”

After leaving the forests of the Great Valley, we rode the thermals over the mountains, stopped to mark a guiding tree, and landed at the edge of a vast, grassy plain on the border of the Flock’s territory with Loners. Until now, me and Tomcat have only been taught how to stalk and surprise prey in the underbrush of the forest. So it came as a surprise when Kuro flew us into the interior of a sizable elderus tree, settling down on a truly colossal branch near its base.

That’s right: A tree branch that can support the weight of three Dragons. It’s impossible to overstate just how big elderus trees are!

Once inside, we navigated around the tree trunk, passing from branch to branch until we came to another clearing in the foliage, a window to gaze at the plains and what prey might be lurking there. According to Kuro, Kin groom elderus trees in advantageous locations like this so they’ll have a window to watch prey from a distance without being seen.

“Heh-heh! Oh, man!” Tomcat licks her chops and fidgets in anticipation. “This is awesome! They’re just sitting there, waiting for us to prey on them!”

“Easy, fress,” Kuro brushes a wing against her. “Their vision may be poor, but there’s always one of them watching the skies. If you’re careless and approach them the wrong way, they’ll sound an alarm call and flee to safety.”

“What’s the correct way?” I ask.

“Wait for them to migrate away from the trees. Then, when they’re out in the open, approach fast and take them by surprise. Spikehorn are quick, but a diving Kin Sister is quickest,” Kuro grins. “Asha, I’d like you to try hunting them first.”

“Eh? You’re not gonna show us how to do it?” Until now, Kuro has consistently demonstrated new techniques before allowing us to perform them.

She shakes her head. “It won’t always be like this — easy prey on a warm day from the vantage of an old tree. Asha, you’re going to be alone in the Farlands right as prey is becoming scarce and frostwing’s settling in. I’ll give you some advice this time, but being able to improvise in a difficult situation is critical.”

I nod thoughtfully and keep quiet. Roosting on the disputed island this winter is going to be tough. I don’t know much about that island and what I’ll find there. It could be teeming with prey, or there could be none at all. Most floating islands aren’t big enough to support a stable population of ferals, and some don’t even have water sources. If I have to return to the mainland to drink and hunt for prey, it’ll be far more challenging to execute my plan of being a big, scary Lithan.

Kuro continues, “Approach them from a high altitude and fall into a dive, pulling up at the last moment. If you time everything right, you’ll have plenty of time to grab a spikehorn and carry it away. Asha, You’re naturally adept at flying, so I think you’ll have no trouble pulling this off.”

Well! I’m glad somebody around here has confidence in me because I sure don’t. I think I’m pretty good at flying, but falling into a steep dive straight toward the ground is something I’ve never done before. But for all the risk it entails, there sure is a nice payoff at the end. After spending the past few days rummaging in the dirt for prey, being able to fly down and scoop it up like a potted plant sounds lovely.

“Well, alright then,” I say, ruffling my feathers in anticipation. “I’ll try my best!”

I hop to the front of the branch and allow myself to see as clearly as possible. Roughly fifteen spikehorn are scattered about in front of the copse, slowly grazing their way farther from safety. Just as Kuro predicted, one of them has their head on a swivel, scanning the skies back and forth for someone like me to show up. How should I approach without them spotting me?

I could stay here and watch them for a time, waiting to see any openings in the lookout’s movements. But another predator could swoop in and prey on the spikehorn before I even have a chance to take off. Not only do I need to time my descent correctly, but also my approach. Hey, Tomcat! Why did you act like this was going to be easy? It’s a lot harder than it looks!

As I study my prey and its surroundings, I notice a route over the landscape that will conceal my approach. But to successfully snag a spikehorn, I’ll have to perform two dangerous flight maneuvers I’ve never attempted before. It’s a risky gambit, but If I’m successful, my prey won’t stand a chance.

My stomach rumbles, and my heart quickens. For all my training thus far, me and Tomcat have split the prey we catch. Small meals — nothing of the sort that’s satiated me like those first few days in Felra when Kuro offered me whole carcasses. Armed with hunger and the fervent desire to make my mentor proud, I push aside fear and leap through the canopy, taking flight and exiting into the open sky.

I drop low enough to obscure myself below a tall ridge separating us. I bank right and skim the tops of trees, riding the hill for a time before making my way up and over the top to the other side. My placement is good — I spot the spikehorn to my left, roughly a mile away. I fly low and silent, low enough that my wings nearly clip the tops of trees on down strokes. When I reach a certain point, I wait for the telltale sensation of warm wind ruffling my chest feathers.

…

There!

I pivot the tips of my flight feathers and soar upwards, riding a sun-driven thermal in a steep climb toward the clouds. I pump my wings hard, gaining altitude as fast as possible. I cast a glance past my left wing and spot the copse behind me. I see the spikehorn, oblivious to the danger rising above them, but not their lookout. For the lookout has made a critical mistake, standing too close to the edge of the copse. In allowing themselves a broad view of the plain in front of them, they have sacrificed a crucial blind spot behind them.

When it feels like I’ve reached the right altitude, I settle into a glide and bank to my left. If the lookout happened to spot me leaving the tree, they didn’t consider me enough of a threat to alert the others. So far, so good! But now I have to perform the most dangerous move yet: A steep dive over the trees, coming in at just the right angle to pick off one of the spikehorn on the far edge of the group. As I study the landscape, a feeling of familiarity overcomes me.

The skies over Rhl; The night everything changed.

After the searchlights found me, I fell into a dive towards the ground, pulling up at the very last moment to glide over the treetops and onward towards the airship hangars. Despite having only learned to fly a few hours prior, I executed this incredibly dangerous maneuver on the first try. How the hell did I do that?! Maybe everybody here is right, and I really am kinda good at flying.

I can do this. I just have to believe in myself!

My confidence restored, I draw a breath and pull my wings back to fall like a stone. I angle my approach to conceal my descent as long as possible until it’s far too late for my prey to escape. The ground approaches fast, just as it did in Rhl. But I know what to expect! When the trees get uncomfortably close, I tilt my flight feathers, heaving my body upwards to even out just over the copse. As the spikehorn come into view, a caterwaul erupts, yelling and cavorting as they turn on their hooves to escape to the safety of the trees. But it’s too late. I drop altitude and hook my foretalons around the flank of a calf.

GR-RAR!!

It convulses, writhing in pain as claws tear through supple flesh. I reach to wrap my hind talons around it, an— ah! OW!!

SKREAK!!

Hot, stabbing pain sears the bottom of my left hind talon as I realize I’ve hooked it on the antlers of the spikehorn. It flails its head, piercing into the side of my talon and inflicting even more pain. Agh, I have to get it off me somehow!! Abort, abort!!

I give my wings a quick pump and fold them inwards to shield myself from the full force of what’s about to occur: an intentional crash landing! My body smacks into the moon, scattering a cloud of dirt and debris across the field. The spikehorn hits the ground with me, the force of the impact dislodging its razor-sharp antlers from my talon.

As I have some prior experience with suddenly returning to Jade, I knew to give myself a quick flap to even out my descent. Instead of cratering into the ground, I slide across it and use the momentum to flip myself back onto my talons and face my prey before it has a chance to recover.

ROOARR?!

Kuro’s worried cry rings through the chaos of the fight. I pay it no mind — I’m fine. The only thing I’m focused on is making sure she sees prey in my jaws when the dust settles!! I lunge through the cloud and find the spikehorn wobbling to its hooves, its intricate antlers snapped to pieces like icicles broken from the roof of a building. It stands to roughly a quarter my height, making it a formidable enemy with the remains of its razor-sharp headgear. Though not as dangerous as before, I can’t afford to be careless.

SCREECH!!

Don’t you dare try and run away, witless prey feral! To my surprise, it doesn’t, and instead lowers itself into a headlong charge directly toward me! Its speed takes me by surprise as I attempt to snap onto its flank while deftly avoiding its piercing horns. At the last moment, my prey veers away, and my jaws latch onto nothing but clean air. As it reels around and hones in for another attack, my hindleg suddenly buckles under searing pain. I shriek as the wound on my talon reopens, upsetting the momentum of my counter-attack. The spikehorn instantly capitalizes, moving with lightning speed toward the injured leg. It knows that’s where I’m vulnerable!

I push off my good leg and flap my wings to afford an additional boost away from the charging feral. The spikehorn is quick, but not quick enough — I hold my breath as its horns miss my leg by mere feet. If I hadn’t broken its antlers during the crash, I’d be in a world of hurt right now. As I drift away, It wails in frustration and tries to pivot and catch me in a compromising position. Instead, its hooves slip on the grass beneath it, causing it to tumble sideways and nearly topple over.

Another critical mistake. This time it’s fatal!

With my strength nearly depleted, I bound off my good foreleg and sail toward the spikehorn with open jaws. At the last moment, it realizes what’s occurring and tries to dodge with one final push in the opposite direction. While It’s good enough to avoid the reach of my fangs, the spikehorn fails to account for my wing directly overhead. The claw on my wing flies down and tears its flesh asunder from shoulder to hip — a deadly trick I learned from the Redaga! My prey stumbles forward, tipping over its hooves and trying to stay upright with the last of its strength. But it’s no use. For a breathless moment, I watch as the spikehorn raises its foreleg in one final act of defiance, one last whimper of pain before collapsing to the ground with an inglorious thud.

The dust clears, revealing an empty field of dry grass, bushy shrubs, and a long patch of loose dirt. The rest of the herd are long gone, retreated to the safety of the forest beyond the copse. It’s just me and my prey — my very first solo kill.

SCREEEEECHHHH!!!

I let out a gallant cry — I did it! I can’t believe it, my plan actually worked! I’ve hunted prey by myself!

ROOARR!

RAAARGH!

I whirl around and spot the elderus in the distance. Though it’s too far away to see them, I know Kuro and Tomcat are ecstatic. I wish they could be here to celebrate with me. They’ve wanted me to succeed just as much as I have. I jump towards the victim of the hunt and begin tearing it to delicious bloody shreds. Of all the ferals I’ve preyed on so far, I’ll savor this one the most.

My name is Asha, Daughter-Of-Kelani. I’m just a visitor, someone passing through on their long journey home. But at the conclusion of my first successful hunt, home feels a lot closer.