Wings of Fate

6. Concerns

Kalian sat on a fallen tree, a short distance beyond the camp. A cool spring breeze ruffled his hair, and he leaned his head back, breathing deeply. The musty scent of the Vetiti wafted towards him, but he caught a hint of freshly fallen dew besides. A wave of homesickness washed over him and Kalian's wings slumped to the ground as his shoulders sagged.

Nights like these had once been cherished. Yara was always eager to fly. She had often begged him and Calandra to carry her through the sky so that she could pretend she was flying. Kalian's heart twisted, recalling how Yara would grip his arms and urge him to fly higher. Faster. Farther. She would've been a powerful flyer when she was older. How he had longed for the day when he could see her spread her wings and soar alone.

Kalian unsheathed his dagger and rubbed his thumb over the polished stone. This night marked the fourth night he'd been with the Ironblades. He hadn't gone out for a flight since he arrived. It was too risky. A scout could see him. But...he needed to clear his head. He couldn't be distracted when he tried to implement his plan in the morning.

Kalian slipped the dagger back into its sheath and stood. He stretched his wings as he walked farther away from the camp. He would take off close to the Vetiti. If a scout saw him, hopefully he'd be mistaken for one of the creatures that lurked within the forest. Kalian spread his wings and leaped into the air.

Instantly, the wind snatched him up, carrying him above the treetops. Kalian leveled out, closing his eyes briefly to relish the cool wind on his face. He allowed his glamour to fade and the ice blue swirls in his wings flashed as his magic settled. Kalian looped above the Vetiti, listening for any unusual sounds. He heard nothing and continued to lose himself in the music of wingbeats and a rustling breeze.

Kalian let his eyes close again. He dredged up memories of Calandra and Yara, and the nights they'd spent flying together. A smile ghosted across his lips as he recalled the way moonlight had shone on Calandra's chestnut tresses, which she always wore in a braid. Her blue eyes, far brighter than his own, had always sparkled with glee, and Yara's were a mirror image.

"Let's race," Calandra would say. "The breeze is light enough that it won't interfere."

And Yara would laugh, gripping Kalian's forearms tightly as she bobbed her dark head in agreement. Her little wings were always folded close to her back and pressed up against his chest, while his arms were wrapped securely around her.

"We'll beat you!" Yara always teased. The race would begin and Yara would take up her incessant chanting of, "Faster, Daddy! Faster!"

To which he replied, "Any faster, Butterfly, and my wings will fall off."

They won every time. Calandra let them win. She was the fastest flyer Kalian had ever known, but she always slowed down for them. She had always done whatever it took to see Yara happy, just as he had.

Kalian swallowed hard and blinked back the stinging in his eyes. He circled back towards the edge of the Vetiti and drew his wings up to land. Kalian cast a shield over himself and dropped beside his fallen tree. He pulled his knees up to his chest, tucking his wings tight around his shoulders. Kalian ran his fingers through his hair while drawing deep steadying breaths.

"I'll find him soon, and they will be avenged," he whispered. "But our people have to come first right now. They're..." Kalian gave a heavy sigh. "They're still alive. I can help save them. I will help save them."

He cast a glamour over himself and allowed his shield to vanish. Kalian pushed himself onto his feet, ready to return to camp. He was almost to the perimeter when footsteps crunched behind him. Kalian paused, his hand moving behind his head to grasp the hilt of his sword.