Destiny Awaiting

Chapter 1

She'd left it too late to pull out of the dive. Aioffe's gaze squinted against the blinding white snow, which splattered up in icy clumps from the branches, dislodged as her body collided with the trunk. Forward momentum halted,, she tried to steady herself inside the tree by holding her wings wide. Her frozen fingers grasped at the dark green tufts, then tore at the fir as her body tumbled, unable to bear its own weight with wings immobile. The spiky branch fingers shredded the thin, translucent panes of her appendages into tatters as she fell.

Finally latching onto a branch with one hand, Aioffe froze, dangling. Before she could reach up to grab another hold, the supple wood bent, then cracked as it lowered further.

Her numb fingers lost their grip.

"Oowww." Her bare foot broke the thin, icy layer of snow, twisting against the frozen earth beneath as her body weight followed.

Having deposited its cargo in an ungainly heap at the roots, the branch pinged back with a whoosh,.

Aioffe opened her eyes. A clump of snow plopped onto her head, a final insult.

Her quarry, a lone squirrel which had been sitting atop the tallest fir in the copse in an otherwise desolate land, now leant onto its haunches a few feet away. For a moment, its russet fur quivered as it examined her with curious eyes. In the silence which followed as they eyed each other, it tilted a neat head at her, before hopping off.

"Next time." Aioffe sighed as she caught sight of her battered, numb wings.

She needed to feed. The squirrels' Lifeforce would have been sufficient sustenance to return home with, but injured, she would need something larger to heal herself. Her wings twitched, the sea breeze whistled through the holes, tickling as sensation returned. There would be no flying back with them so shredded. Her ankle throbbed in protest at the prospect of walking, not that one could walk across the sea.

She swallowed, hearing her mother's voice in her head, 'One such as you should never leave. If you must, then never travel alone. And never be seen.'

And never find out anything, Aioffe always mentally added. Never be free. Never discover. Never live a different life than the one her mother and the rest of the fae demanded of her.

Following the squirrel's tracks across the white landscape, her heart sank when no other prey hopped or flew into sight. Aioffe turned on the ground, peering through the cluster of trunks, and squinted against the sunset. Twilight would soon fall, and a night spent outside in the cold did not appeal.

Where the land dipped into the horizon to the west, a stone cross peaked into the orange sky. A slate roof hugged into the curve of the coast, its adornment jutting up like a beacon towards the water. From the air, this small island had appeared uninhabited, but this intriguing, whitewashed building was worth considering as shelter against the long winter night ahead. At the very least, it had a roof.

She gazed across the expanse of field to where a tall, square tower was set atop a ridge. Rising half as high as the trees in Naturae, the lone tower with a mound at its base cast a long, dark shadow towards the coastline. The Vikings, invaders, and destroyers from even further North, had proclaimed their dominion over these islands with castles and brochs. Some were still used by those who ruled these islands, even now perhaps. These stone constructs were so different to the treetop dwellings of her kind. The prospect of exploring them tantalised.

"Perhaps don't stray too close," she told herself. Entanglement with people would likely get her in even more trouble.

With hawk-like eyes, Aioffe stared at the tower, the low building, then the tower again for a few minutes. From several miles away, she couldn't spot any movement or candlelight inside the small windows of either building. A chill spring breeze from the sea whipped a loose strand of hair across her cheek. She needed to move, and now, before darkness fell.