Young Writers Society

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.