Verdeyan sat in the sunlight, stretching her wings, admiring the glint of light off her shining silver feathers. With a graceful twist of her body, she leapt off the branch and sailed downwards, the cool wind filling her feathers, sending sparks if joy through her mind, at peace with the world, everything perfect as the sky swallowed all pain—then a dark shape overshadowed her—hard wings, cruelly pinioning arms—took her in their grasp, and then she began to fall—
Her scream echoed in the branches, blood covering her body, pain overtaking her senses—
Verdeyan jerked convulsively, her eyes snapping open. She saw the boards of a ceiling above her, heard the din of frogs, felt the burning pain in her wings as she rolled onto her back. The nightmare faded, grim reality replacing its terror.
“No,” she wept, bitter tears creeping down her face. “No!”
…
A knock on the door pierced the midmorning quiet of Asabet’s snoring and the clatter of dishes in the washbasin. Verdeyan snapped to attention, looking from the door to Asabet before hastening to answer it.
The wooden panel swung back on its hinges to reveal a thickly built man whose orange eyes gleamed as he spoke. “Ah, may I ask if Jonalla is at home?” he drawled, tossing his deep brown curls.
Verdeyan shrank back into the doorway, beginning to shut the door, murmuring “I-I must ask, and, who-who are you?”
“Tell Jonalla it’s Lesu,” he replied, winking at Verdeyan.
She winced, her eyes narrowing in contempt, as she disappeared inside the house, shutting the door before he had time to speak again.
Inside, she tromped up the stairway, pausing to knock at the entrance to Jonalla’s room.
“Yes, wench? Are you already finished with the breakfast dishes? Well?”
Verdeyan sighed, replying meekly “There is a man at the door who says he is Lesu. He told me to fetch you.”
Jonalla immediately looked up from her sewing, dropping it to the floor, as she rushed by Verdeyan and hurried down the stairs.
Verdeyan simply sat on the step, waiting.
Downstairs, she heard the door creak open, and the rise and fall of voices.
Above the drone of conversation, her mind began to play the familiar tunes her father had so often strummed on his lyre, phantom notes of light music filling her mind, giving her a moment of bittersweet longing…
As she sat, she noticed the heavy coating of dust which clung to the wall, licking a finger to rub away some of the grime. As her finger slid over the dirty surface, the line it left formed a curve, which resembled the hieroglyphic character for ‘lost’.
Drawing in a breath, she finished the character, rubbing into the dust beside it another glyph, this one familiar as any sight she’d ever seen; her name.
“Mother? Father? If you can hear me….” She whispered, placing her open palm over the words scrawled in the grime. When she removed her hand, the figures were gone, obscured by a smudged palm-print into the background of dirty wood.
“Wench! Come here!” Jonalla’s shout shattered her melancholy trance, as she stumbled down the stairs to see what the woman wanted.
“Girl! Put on some tea! Don’t just stand there, move!” Jonalla gave her a moderate shove to the shoulder, which caused her to lose her balance for a moment, teetering mid-step.
The girl fell, dropping to the floor near Lesu’s feet.
The smiling man bent down, concern tingeing his countenance.
“Are you alright? I’m sure it was an accident, Jonalla…” He gave the dark-haired woman at his right a sharp look as he said this.
Jonalla smiled, embarrassed, as she raised her shoulders as if to say ‘whatever do you mean’. Lesu now frowned, stepping uncomfortably away from Verdeyan, who was just now untangling herself.
“I’m sorry, Jonalla, I just don’t know, if I’m ready to, eh, decide on this,” he smiled apologetically, backing away and out the door, which shut quietly behind him.
Jonalla’s face turned crimson, here arms shaking as she muttered, her voice hard,
“Oh, you clumsy girl. Don’t worry about this fall. I will push you again, sometime, when no one else is watching.”
With that, Jonalla turned away, stalking up the stairs to her bedroom, where the door slammed, a loud sound followed by more silence, as Asabet’s snores ceased, replaced by wheezing breaths as she awoke.
“Child? What is the matter?” The old woman called, seeing Verdeyan still sitting on the floor, motionless. The girl did not reply, only standing after a period of minutes, and returned to her chore, washing the dishes.
Fear burned its way deep into her heart, an intense feeling of terror and helplessness she’d felt only once before, in the moments before Gattlin had snatched her from the sky.
…
Reviews are much appreciated.
~Voxina
