Author's Notes: 1,389 words. My precious borbs. ;-;
For someone with keen hearing, a grudge, and the
ability to fly at a moment's notice, Aquila was surprisingly easy to find - it
only took about an hour for Iasquam to finally spot him, lurking in the form of
an eagle in a small patch of shrubbery.
Given Aquila's size, Iasquam found it almost funny; he would've laughed
if he didn't feel so bitter.
Aquila shifted to
half-form and hid among the bushes, scowling.
"Have you come to say goodbye?"
"The lady wants
you," Iasquam said, crossing his wings.
He had not been looking forward to this conversation, and had spent his
past hour conceiving what were first ways to demand an apology, then ways to
beat Aquila in a fight. Admittedly,
considering how small and ineffectual Aquila looked, Iasquam felt that wouldn't
be nearly as much a challenge as he’d imagined.
As long as Aquila didn't fly, it would be easy to trap him and force him
to abandon his little petty feud.
"She couldn't talk
to me herself?" Aquila said, standing up.
"But she sent you?"
"I was
available," Iasquam said. "You
should try to be."
Giving out a cry that
sounded like derision, Aquila took a few steps forward. "I've tried, but she knows how bad I am,
because she picked you."
When he’d left Eremia
eralier, Iasquam had heard something about emotional common ground. Now that he could see Aquila in front of him,
feathers ruffled and eyes drooping, the comment made more sense. Still, that wasn't an excuse for Aquila's
paranoia; it was childish and petty, and beyond Iasquam's respect. "I'm her swordsman. Was that your job?" he said, his fury making it sound biting
instead of curious.
"No," Aquila said,
pouting and looking away. "But you
can do everything I can and more."
About to make a comment
of disapproval, Iasquam decided it would be better to keep his little secret
under wraps for the time being. The last
thing he wanted was for Aquila to have ammunition, or something else to work
himself up over. "What do you
do?" he finally said, trying to soften his voice.
In return, Aquila
exploded into a fit of rage. "I'm
the messenger!" he shouted, sprinting towards Iasquam. "Just like you're trying to be!"
At least that planning
wouldn't go to waste, Iasquam figured as he easily sidestepped Aquila and
raised a leg. Moving too fast to correct
himself, Aquila tripped and faceplanted in the earth. By now, a small crowd of bystanders had
gathered, watching intently. Somebody
ran off, shouting some call for help.
"What is wrong with
you?" Iasquam shouted in the hawk’s old language, placing a clawed foot on
Aquila's back. "I never meant you
any harm!"
Aquila lashed out with
his claws, scratching Iasquam's leg.
"Since the moment you saw her you have," he spat in the eagle’s
language, glaring up at Iasquam.
"She probably told you about me and you decided to fix the threat,
didn't you?"
Seeing the blood
beginning to coat his feathers, Iasquam dug his foot down deeper, knocking the
air out of Aquila's lungs. "I never
even knew you existed," Iasquam said, clenching his clawed hands together
to keep them from strangling Aquila’s scrawny neck. "If you were always this mad, then
perhaps I should take your place."
"I knew it!"
Aquila gasped, shoving his hands into the earth. He flung himself up with surprising speed,
sending Iasquam falling onto the hard ground.
Reaching back to check for any wounds in his back, Aquila showed his
bloody claws. "You played her, and
you're trying to play me, and too many people have tried to do that to me." He soared up before Iasquam could grab at
him. "Fight me!"
A few deep breaths. Iasquam pulled a sword from its scabbard on
his back, pointing it at Aquila.
"No! You're a frightened
child, and I will not play your little game."
"You'd better,"
Aquila screeched, diving down to lash at Iasquam. "Because I'm going to end it. Get up here!"
That secret started to
worm its way up Iasquam's throat; he buried it, dodging Aquila's attack and
scratching a leg with his sword. Drops
of blood spilled onto the ground, leading some of the onlookers to shout. One man ran up and grabbed Iasquam, who
allowed the man to pull him away while he still watched Aquila's
movements. He was tired of this fight,
and it appeared that Aquila had done a good amount of damage to his own
reputation. It was what the child
deserved, Iasquam figured.
Now Aquila appeared more
desperate, as he lunged for yet another strike.
He was forced back at the last minute by somebody casting a net, leading
him to squawk in irritation. "Face
me!" he said pleadingly as he soared up into the sky. "I - I won't stop!"
"I can’t fly!"
shouted Iasquam, now in the crowd. To
his right, he could hear a conversation about a healer coming. Scattered bits of dialogue bounced around in
his head: Jonathan was running over, somebody had notified Eremia, Madeleine
was already preparing a couple of hospital beds. He felt that it'd be more necessary for
Aquila than himself, since his leg barely hurt.
As for the emotional scars, Iasquam suspected that it would take far
longer for Aquila to burn through his fears.
But, since the secret had almost escaped Iasquam's lips, he guessed that
he’d be struggling too.
"And why not?" said
Aquila, faint voice cracking as he looked around and saw the ever-growing
audience. He seemed to shrink, both as
he pushed his legs into his chest and as he soared upwards. "What’s stopping
you from finishing the job?"
Well, it was endlessly
embarrassing, but Iasquam thought that it might provide just enough leverage to
stop him. "I'm afraid of
heights!"
Aquila
stopped, hovering in the sky.
"Wait, really?" he shouted, though it sounded like a whisper
at that distance. "Are you
serious?"
Looking
around, Iasquam feared that everyone focused on him, and that every expression
was a mocking smile. He felt much
smaller. "Yes!" he shouted
up. To his right, a woman in a white
dress pulled at his hand. Amidst the
growing din of the crowd, sneaking past the beating of his own heart, she asked
him if he had any injuries. Nodding, he
gestured to his leg and sat down, extending the leg out.
"That
can't be true," Aquila said, lowering ever so slightly. "But you didn't follow me, so that means
- that means - what does that mean?"
Not
sure what else to say, Iasquam watched as the woman placed a hand over his
bleeding leg. He winced as he saw a
bright flash, white energy seeping into the injury. The pain subsided as the woman pulled out a
gauze bandage from the folds of her dress, wrapping it around the damaged
area. She said something that he could distantly
hear about it being minor, and that he should wash off any blood left on the
wound.
Trapped
in the prison of his mind, fears bounced around Iasquam and weakened his
senses. Everyone knew now that he
couldn't fly - that he was afraid to fly - and that showed his weakness. As a hawk, he should be able to fly; all the
friends in his old home had, the hawks that had gone with him to southern
Walenty for gold and glory had, and his sister had been the best at it. She’d been the best at everything. But he had been afraid of it since he was a
small child, as he had been afraid of falling and smashing to pieces against
the weight of the earth. Not to mention
she’d died in the air.
The
malevolent thoughts ate at him. He
barely noticed that Aquila had shouted something and flown off in a random
direction, and that the crowd had followed him, nets and healers at the
ready. Even the woman in white patting
his back and trying to soothe him by telling him he was okay proved
insignificant to his mind. When he
looked up again, she was gone, and so was everyone else.
He
had hoped so much that he wouldn't be in pain anymore, now that he was free
from his home. What a cruel world this
was.
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