The Princess's Feathers

ROAARR!

Kuro launches herself toward the arrogant boy with talons splayed. Lunging to his left, he pivots his wing just in time, but not before Kuro can land an indirect blow that tears away more precious flight feathers. As he makes contact with the ground, he hesitates, flicking a glance at his wing. To lose a spar against Kuro would be embarrassing, but to lose the ability to fly would be catastrophic. His trepidation proves costly as Kuro bounces off her right hindleg and lands another glancing blow against his leg. Moss green feathers stain blue as blood spills from another fresh wound.

“Frida,” I ask quietly, sitting to my side in the crowd of spectators. “You’re her sister. Why is she like this?”

Without taking her eyes off the action, the gray Kin frowns and sighs longingly. “She’s just… always been this way. Quick to get into arguments and quick to fight back. It doesn’t help that the boys can’t stand losing to her.” After a moment’s silence, she adds, “There’s nothing wrong with a fiery personality, though.”

I recall my first encounter with Frida and how loudly she screamed at her Grandmother for refusing to summon the flock. Truly, these two are cut from the same cloth.

“Then what about me?” I ask over the sound of Kuro’s opponent yowling in anguish. “Everyone says she’s difficult to get along with, but she’s always been kind to me.”

For a moment, Frida is silent as she watches the fight draw closer to a conclusion. She turns to me with a reassuring glint and says, “I think you should personally ask her that question.”

I stare into her a moment, wondering why she’s acting coy. I’m certain Frida knows the truth — she has to. She’s Kuro’s sister! If anyone knows how that girl works, it’s her. So why deflect the question back at me? She wants to help Kuro, right? If someone asked me why Sofl is so timid all the time, I would totally tell them! Ugh!

“Yield…!!”

But before I get too upset, a meager voice signals the end of the spar. Kuro is pinning the boy into the ground with one foretalon against his head and the other on his shoulder — A closer fight than last time, but the outcome is the same. With the winner decided, the crowd begins to thin, and the boy, torn and bloodied, slowly clambers to his talons. Kuro watches him from afar, an ever-present reminder of who he lost to.

Our group watches as well, waiting for Kuro to finish her stare-down. But after a few moments, I grow impatient. Snatching the initiative, I step forward and call out, “Hey!”

Kuro snaps out of her vigil and turns to me dumbfounded. “Asha—!” she growls, her body language indicating she’s happy to see me, but her voice stuck in a menacing register. If not for our friendship, I would be adequately frightened.

“Blue skies, Kuro!” I bound to her side and rub my head into hers. She holds her head steady for a brief moment before pushing back against mine. I feel her warmth, and a wave of happiness washes over me.

“Warm currents,” she croons gently into my ear.

I pull my head back and nearly gasp at what I see. Small patches of feathers are missing from all over her body, and a sizable, bloodied gnash is bleeding out on her left foreleg. “Oh! Kuro, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she flatly dismisses, giving her chest a quick lick.

“She’s endured worse,” Nakino says, stepping forward with Frida to inspect Kuro’s wounds closer. “A few scratches are nothing Kuro can’t handle.”

It sounds like Nakino has treated far worse battle scars on Kuro, which means there’s someone in the flock who can match Kuro’s fighting prowess. I wonder who it is? Well, I’m not going to press the issue by asking her. Kuro’s eyes are narrowed, and she seems a bit agitated (More so than usual with Nakino around.) Meldi scolded her the last time she got into a fight, so she must feel self-conscious about getting into another.

While Nakino is strangely calm around Kuro, Frida’s a different story. Hackles raised, she’s visibly irritated by her sister’s behavior. “Kuro!” she snaps. “We were looking for you everywhere before the gathering started! Where in greenwing’s creche were you?”

Kuro flicks her eyes to the boy, now limping, and shakes her head. “Sorry. I got distracted.”

While I’m certain Kuro can handle her sister’s ‘fiery’ personality, I think now is the right time to intervene and ask her something important. I smile and quickly ask, “Hey, Kuro? Could we talk in private, please?”

At that utterance, the eyes of everyone present grow wide as sunflowers.

“H-huh?” Kuro stammers, dumbfounded by my impromptu request. “Y-yeah, of course we could, Asha.”

“Good,” I say, flicking my ears upward. “Let’s fly to one of the upper dens, okay?”

“Yeah…” Kuro nods, still surprised but looking relieved.

Frida steps forward and inserts her head between Kuro and me, the look on her face menacing. In an almost pleasant voice, she inquires, “Asha?”

“I didn’t mean to tear Kuro away from you so quickly. I just wanted to ask her a few questions!” I smile. “I hope that’s okay.”

Slowly, the passive-aggressiveness fades from her face as she recalls our conversation a few moments ago. “Oh!” she chitters, the malice in her voice dissolved. “Yeah, that’s just fine!”

It better be, because I’m not wasting any time! I’m going to find out once and for all why Kuro’s acted so nice around me!

“This has been an incredible adventure full of memories I’ll cherish forever...” I drift off, momentarily caught up in my thoughts. “…But I’m ready to go home. My family has to know I’m safe. And I’m ready to change back to normal and return to my old life as a Princess.”

After departing Frida and Nakino, I led Kuro to one of the upper dens of the aerie where we could have some space to ourselves, away from the jubilant activity of the gathering. I intended to ask why she’s acted so nice to me, but somehow our conversation drifted back to me and my time in Felra.

Perched on the rocks outside the den, we have a birds-eye view of everything below us— stories being told, songs being sung, races through the air… even a fight or two. After living among them these past few weeks, I feel connected to their flock in a way I would never have thought possible. Given enough time, I might even think I belong here.

But this is not my world. My role is that of a Princess, leading a mundane existence until she can rule her Kingdom from a throne of lilac. For everyone I’ve ever known and all those who would look to me as their Monarch, I owe them my unyielding commitment to return home.

Laying at my side, Kuro is silent for a time, watching the Kin below with a sedate, if not stern, expression. Finally, she asks, “What will you do when you become a Lemur again?”

Oh, that’s easy. “The first thing I’ll do is take my role as Princess much more seriously.”

Kuro looks at me, a tinge surprised. “You didn’t before?”

I wince and look away, guilt raking my chest. “Not as much as I should have. On the day everything happened, I forced my mother to let me leave the safety of our den. I was convinced I would be safe and nothing bad could happen. I was such an idiot….”

Admittedly, nobody could have predicted the insanity of what happened in the weald that day. But if I had just played it safe and stayed home, I’d still be Lemur. It’s my fault, and I have nobody to blame but myself.

“Were you and your mother close?” Kuro asks after another pause.

I frown and shake my head. “We got along better when I was young, but our relationship soured the past few years. I’m afraid it would be difficult to explain why.”

“Oh yeah?” she boasts. “Try me.”

She really wants to know, huh? Well, I’m not sure how much I want to tell her. I’m far too embarrassed to admit that mom thought I was unfit for the throne... that particular revelation still haunts me.

“Maybe I’m overthinking things. She thought I wasn’t taking my role as Princess seriously enough, and I felt like I couldn’t because we disagreed on so many things.”

I pause mid-thought to gaze into the aerie. A group of adults have gathered by the warmth of an ember root fire, engaged in the act of mutual grooming. Ten or so Kin, all huddled close enough to be nearly on top of each other, taking the time to preen the feathers of all those around them. Are they friends? What if they’re strangers? They have so much trust in one another, yet I couldn’t trust my own mother.

I exhale sharply and pry my gaze away. “Perhaps our disagreements are something I should have tolerated.”

“Well,” Kuro says, stretching her foretalons out in front of her. “You shouldn’t allow your mother to push you around.”

I smirk a little. That’s about the most ‘Kuro’ response imaginable.

“But for your family, I think sacrifices are necessary. They’re the only family you’ve got, you know?”

Yeah, they were the only family I had.

I turn away, trying not to show the emotion on my face. Working in Nakino’s den and discussing botany with him has made me terribly homesick. The past few nights have been especially difficult to get through. I miss everyone dearly… none of them deserve the pain of believing they’ve lost me.

“But hey, it’s okay!” Kuro chirps, trying to sound upbeat. “Everyone’s going to be so happy when you return home!”

“Yeah…” I trail off. “Even though I….”

…

“Asha?”

“Kuro…” I murmur, keeping my face turned away. “I’ve never mentioned this before, but… back at home, I was not well-liked.”

She inches closer and asks in a solicitous voice, “You weren’t?”

“No…” I say, feeling my throat clench. Painful memories tempered with guilt begin flooding back to me. “My mother and I fought all the time. I was intentionally rude to all the nobles, and I had a reputation for being a spoiled brat who screamed until she got her way. Quite frankly, I deserved it.”

“Asha…”

“I remember on the day I left home, I was in public, and some woman mocked me for the clothes I was wearing. I became furious and started screaming at her in the middle of public, and…” my voice fizzles as a grave realization draws over me like a storm cloud blocking the sun. I turn back to Kuro with a horrified expression. “Is that my legacy? Will I be remembered as the spoiled Princess who screamed at a woman over something as petty as her outfit?”

She looks at me, forlorn and glum, but offers no answers.

I stare into the ground and curl my talons so tight it feels like I could crush stone. “By now, my brother has become the new heir to the throne. He’s timid but well-tempered and obedient. I’m sure the nobles will be happy I’m gone now that—“

“Asha, stop.”

Taken by surprise, my head jolts up with tears streaming down. “Huh?”

“I don’t care how much you were disliked or how much you fought your mother. Nobody wanted to see you dead.”

My neck jolts back in shock. The way Kuro emphasized ‘dead’… for some reason, it took my breath away. I try to talk back, but no sound is produced.

“Everyones makes mistakes and has regrets. But your family loved you, Asha. And despite your imperfections, they would do anything to bring you home. So please, don’t say hateful things about yourself. It’s not true, and… it makes me unhappy to see you this way.”

…

Is... is that why…?

But… Kuro would know all this far better than I would, wouldn’t she? After all, she’s actually lost her mother and father. I haven’t. There’s still a chance for me to reunite with them and return to my old life. Realizing this makes me feel awfully stupid — stupid enough to call myself an idiot. But Kuro told me not to say hateful things about myself. And she’s right.

“Um... I’ll try not to,” I murmur. “Thank you, Kuro. Sincerely.”

Kuro smiles, and I feel a weight lifted. It seems I can always count on her to raise my spirits. I asked to be alone with Kuro to find out why she was so kind to me. But the truth is, I don’t need to ask. I already know the answer. Simply put, she cares about me as a dear friend would—a real friend. I couldn’t recognize it because I’d never had someone like her in my life before.

I rub my head against Kuro’s, and she returns the favor, lending me warmth and kindness. She’s a very important Dragon to me.

And I’m going to miss her.

Sharp talons scrape over cold hard stone, sending a chill across my spine for the first time since my arrival in Felra. I lay against the boulder and shiver, feeling a light dusting of snow beneath my already icy feathers. The frosty alpine air belies what should be a late autumn day. Perhaps it’s simply the shadow cast by Maki, chilling the slopes of White Mountain to a typical winter’s day as the planet trundles along, taking the better part of a day and a half to transition the entire length of the sun. Darkmoons, rarely enjoyable in Ellyntide, are downright execrable in the winter.

But soon, the air warms. A kindred soul joins me on the boulder and lays beside me, spreading her soot-plumaged wing over top of me.

“Here,” she smiles. “I’ll keep you warm.”

To accomplish that, the wing isn’t necessary. But I appreciate the sentiment.

In contrast to the apathy of Farlanders, The Snowfell Flock views this routine celestial occurrence with great reverence. When Maki eclipses the sun, it represents the death of the individual soul on Jade. And when the sun reappears a day and a half later, it is the rebirth in the afterlife on Maki: Islands like Felra, innumerable and vast, floating gently above the clouds, filled with enough prey to satisfy every member of the flock that’s ever come before us. They say that when the sun reappears, the souls on Maki watch us down below on Jade. And so, after the Darkmoon gatherings, the flock departs the warmth of the aerie to wait on the mountainside, ready to greet them.

Just then, I notice something off in the distance. “Look!” I call out. “Here comes the sun!”

I angle my wing forward to point across the cliff face, over the valley, up the ridges surrounding White Mountain, and onward towards Maki. The faint glow of sunlight surrounding the pale green planet begins to change, and the horizon starts to brighten. Across Felra, I watch the transition from night to day occur instantly, speeding fast across the landscape as the moon itself draws closer and closer to the planet’s edge. As it approaches the home of Kin, the eyes of the flock are drawn skyward.

The mountain is bathed in the benediction of light.