I took in the sights of the vast azure sky around me, softly inhaling and exhaling as I soared lower, approaching the small hut I had built in the crooked branches of a hollow oak tree years ago when I first arrived in these woods, among these strange trees.
I blinked, imagination wandering, and tried once again to grasp for something long lost. As I reached out for it, I could feel the soft and delicate touch of my name, but when I tried to hold on to the feeling, it vanished like a breeze in the evening air, as usual. It grew weaker each time, and I fear that one day, it might disappear forever, abandoning me with no trace of it left behind...
Sighing, I shook myself, extended my legs and tipped my flight feathers, landing on the wooden platform in front of my house with a soft thump. I pushed the door open, wings folding behind me without so much as a thought, dropping the rotten carcass of a small mouse on the table next to the old cabbages I had found earlier today.
Turning my gaze to the corner of the room, I caught a glimpse of the small white shape resting atop a pile of blankets. The egg that would never hatch. After staring at it for a few seconds, I closed my eyes and looked away, gaze falling upon the ornate mirror hanging on the wall.
The bald head of a vulture looked back at me, long neck curved forward, sitting atop humanoid shoulders, wings neatly folded at her sides and partially covering her feathered arms. I frowned, glaring at myself with an intensity I would never dare express in front of any other. God, I look awful.
Grabbing an empty bucket from the bathroom, I flew out again towards the river, pausing midair to examine a smell seemingly brought on by the evening breeze. It was the sweetness of a flower, the softness of petals, the powdery scent of... Of what? I tried to catch it again, but it seemed to have vanished, leaving no trace behind.
I sighed, landing near the river next to a small dirt path. Closing my eyes, I listen to the quiet flow of the water over the round pebbles as I scooped up some water. I stood there for a few minutes, eyes still closed, contemplating the life among these trees until I heard something coming from the well farther down the path. Leaving my bucket by the river, I followed it until I reached a small well, just in time to hear a few muffled words coming from it.
"To walk them, please," the voice said.
Frowning, I backed off and extended my wings, flying up to a steady branch in a nearby tree. As I watched, the dark brown hair of a female adult came up the well, seeming to have climbed up a ladder. She emerged into the forest, glancing around, and followed the dirt path further into the forest.
Shaking myself, I spread my wings once again and flew past the figure, noting the strange smell of flowers as I passed her, heading for where I had left my bucket.
When I returned to the river, I grabbed said bucket and, not even taking the time to land properly, took flight again, heading back to my hut. I carefully placed it down on the floor, closed the door behind me and fell to the ground in a pile of feathers, breathing heavily for a reason that I could not name.
I snapped my head towards the corner of the room as I heard a sound that I hadn't heard in years, maybe decades. The perfect, round egg was cracking, pieces falling to reveal the rotten and dried up inside as well as the stench that came with it. Normally, this wouldn't disturb me, but for whatever reason I felt the urge to throw it away.
So I did.
I flew out the door and dumped it down onto the forest floor, determined to never see it again, when a small yelp sounded among the trunks. Puzzled, I pressed my wings close to my sides, reopening them when I arrived into the open, and landed next to... a small dirt path.
And next to a young human with a backpack, wearing a lab coat emblazoned with a circular symbol, who seemed to have been examining the remains of a rotten egg. A young human who seemed startled by my landing. A young human who smelled of flowers, of nostalgia, of family... A young human who bowed and saluted me in a cordial tone of voice.
"Good evening."
"Hello, traveler," I responded in a similar way. "I haven't seen you around before, may I inquire as to your origins?"
"Certainly," she answered. "I came from the small brick well at the end of the path I currently walk. What about you?"
"I've been here ever since I could remember. I do not know what happened before, though I have heard news from a few good friends. They say it was not pleasant."
She bowed, then continued: "I apologize for prying. I shouldn't have asked."
"It's alright," I told her, trying to sound soothing. "But now I'd like to ask you a question."
"By all means, go ahead."
"Do you know your name?"
She paused, glancing down nervously. "Yes, I do."
I slowly nodded. "Thanks."
She snapped her head up at me, seemingly alarmed. "You're not going to ask me what it is?" She seemed to realize something and bowed before adding: "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."
"Again," I muttered, "it's fine. No, I won't ask, the knowledge of knowing you remember is enough. It's good to know that there are people out there who still have a grasp on their name, as mine has started to fade away. Speaking of which, mine has felt soft lately. I still wonder what it is."
She nodded understandingly. "Well I hope that someday you find it again." She bowed yet again. "But now I must take my leave."
"Before you go, I have one last question. What's that perfume?"
"The smell is reminiscent of that of violets. Actually, that's my-" she trailed off, then bowed yet again. "I am extremely sorry, but I must now go."
Violets. I stood there, blinking slowly, as I watched her turn and walk back towards the well she climbed out of. Violets. I tried yet again to grasp for my name, only to find nothing no matter where I looked. Violets.
YOU ARE READING
The Gyps Series
Historia CortaA series of short SCP-4000 stories, originally meant to be a one-shot, I decided to expand on it. Go read the SCP wiki article before this story! http://www.scpwiki.com/taboo But hey, I can't know if you have, so go ahead at your own risk. Also, co...