Volume I: Forged

Chapter 32: I've Forgotten

The world exploded.

That's the only way Tina could describe it.

She slammed into the ground, cracking her head on the flooring. She saw stars, tasted blood, as the fire from the explosion roared behind her. Warmth flooded down her nose, and from the new throbbing ache in her face, she figured her nose was broken.

A shadow flew overhead.

Tina didn't notice that, but she did feel the sweeping cold that had followed it in. Wind pounded her in the face, making her brand new headache worse. She swallowed, nearly gagging on a mouthful of blood, and flinched back as something landed heavily in front of her.

She blinked blearily up, head spinning with the effort.

How hard had she hit her head?

A tall figure was standing in front of her, outlined by the fire that was swallowing her home. Part of his back extended, and it took Tina an embarrassing amount of time to realize they were wings.

Not like the flimsy, glossy material of her own—no, these were massive, black, stretching over to shield her from the heat.

"There you are—"

Tina startled at the sheer relief in the figure's voice. She couldn't help but flinch back as he knelt next to her, wings coming up and around her. With the cool, shiny feathers between her and the burning world—Tina could almost image she hadn't just watched her home be destroyed.

She was in her room with the retractable ceiling, watching the stars when she was supposed to be asleep. There were no screams, no flames, no explosions, no blood.

Hands on her sides, under her belly, turning her over. She whimpered as the movement made her stomach churn, vertigo kicking in.

"Easy, easy sweet," the voice said again, kind and gentle. A hand guided her head to a shoulder, an arm cradled her knees. The wings were still there, hiding her away. No bad things could get her here.

They were moving, the owner of the voice was taking her somewhere. Fear nibbled at the edges of Tina's mind, making the headache worse.

She whined, reached a hand up to her temple.

"Hey, no—let me get that." A hand in her hair, undoing the latch on the metal. "You're lucky this didn't cut you."

The pressure was relieved from around her skull, and Tina sighed in relief, snuggling down into the hold. She was safe here—she didn't know how, but she did.

The voice chuckled. "You're going to fit right in."

Tina didn't know what that meant, and she didn't want to know right now.

She wanted to sleep.

With nothing to stop her, and the gentle sway of the stranger's footsteps, she did.

...

"I almost didn't make it."

Kristin looked up from where she was tucking the child in. Phil stood in the doorway, arms crossed, face conflicted. He looked tired, worry lines carved into his face.

"Oh love—" Kristin guided him to a chair, pulling his head down to rest on her shoulder. Phil let her hold him, trying to force the tension he had been carrying for literal weeks to leave.

"It exploded before I found her—the main wing," Phil explained softly.

"You didn't even know she was real to begin with," Kristin said quietly. "Her parents hid her very well."