Wasteland

13

Weight of the Wing

You truly are the figure in everything.
The reason for just about anything.
And the motivation for all things.

But only all of this is true if you wish to become nothing in return.
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The cool breeze flew over a sandy hill top, the dying smoke of a fire lightly wafted in the air.

A few broken pieces of some circular wooden instrument scattered at the scene. Light shrubbery dotted around sevral massive boulders lightly forming a circle.

But these were little details, insignificant in comparison to what most saw first.

5 maybe 6 bodies morbidly disfigured to the point of unrecognition. Neither Identify nor race could be determined.

Torn clothing thrown aside in a crude pile covered in dark red-brown stains.

The Foragers who had discovered this, had almost fainted at the sight. These foragers consisted of a female and two young male gelfling.

If you had told them what she had seen was the work of a small female gelfling of Grot having a midnight snack with her comrades, she would have called you a liar.

And said gelfling at the moment limply buzzed through the horizon, allowing the sun's rays to sear into her

Thin bug-like wings, pointed, and off white, carried her. It was more like gliding but whatever.

Her green skin, littered with browned spots near her mouth and hands. Silky tangled white hair was thin and falling out.
And worst of all, pulsating, thick purple viens littered her physique.

A crude unrecognizable creature. She had now looked more like a failled immatation of a gelfling.

In other areas, Brea is loosing her witts.  She struggles under the pressure, what does she do? Vapra was falling apart. Chaos engulfed the entire kingdom.

Brea felt worthless. Now more then ever. A rambunctious knock was heard from Brea's door. She tucked her hair behind her ears before muttering a composed "Enter."

The visitor timidly opened the door. Not timid from anxiety, but from pure shock. "U-h u-ummm..." The elderly man sharply Inhaled. "P-Princess, I know there is much on your mind but...there is an issue.."

Brea swiftly stood from her wooden chair in the library. So swiftly infact her ankles tingle. "What? What's happened?" Despite her sternly serious tone, Brea's face showed seldom fear.

The man turned his head. Apparently whispering toward a cluster of Gelfling. Brea hears several agonizing groans and wails omitting from behind the ornate door.

With sudden haste, the man widened the opening of the door. Brea's expression drastically whitened when she sees the young of a landstrider squirming wildly. It'd been chained to a board, latched in place. It's limbs contorted unnaturally on the thick acacia plank.

It's eyes a dark purple and it's squeals withered Brea's senses.

The room instantly tensed as Brea's tears welled before they were blinked from existence by her fury.

How could she sit here and wallow in self pity like a spoiled child? How could she think her problems were the most heart wrenching things happening now? It was not fair to her people. Unfair to all of Thra.

If she couldn't take charge and govern her people with the strength of a true leader, how could Brea end the Skeksis and there tierny?

Brea swalloed hard. "W-we have to...let it go." Brea stutters at first but she repeats herself, a more demanding tone this time. "Let him go, far far away from here."

The man, along with the aforementioned group of gelfling,  nodded and carried the landstrider away as she instructed. Brea followed, "Let it live its last final days free." She'd said.

Unfortunately, the kindness Brea had shown the creature had not been returned because as soon as it was free from it's chains, it wreaked havoc.

Brea was an inexperienced governor. So she'd used what knowledge she'd harbored from her mother, sister, and stories she'd read to guide her.