Introductions (Prequel)

3A

Tadita

Leucism. That's what they said it was. The reason most of my feathers were stained ivory. Said it went right along with the vitiligo. Said it was most likely what had affected my wing and feather growth. Said it would most likely affect my bone growth as well, and that they would have to monitor it to truly see if I could fly.

I had never been concerned about my skin. It was something I thought was normal. Maybe it is. My parents, however, have always worried about it. Wondered how I could have such pale feathers when neither of them had the genes for feathers the color of teeth and bone.

I had always looked in the mirror and thought, 'I'm special'. I had always looked at my wings with anticipation, with love.

Never had I looked at myself like something was wrong.

My parents think I don't understand. They think that I'm happily oblivious to my situation. But they're wrong. I know. My blank face had always had a smile attached. I go through the motions monotonously. I follow their instructions, answer their dull questions; "Does anything hurt at rest? When stretched out?" "How do you sleep?" "Have you started Flight Practices yet?" "Were you born with the vitiligo or was it onset later on?" "Have you personally noticed any differences between yours and others' wings?" All of which are met with short answers.

And if they stick me with one more needle, that blank face might drop.

"Mak, can we go home?"

"Not yet, sayang, they're going to do one more test, and then we can head home." She says, rubbing my arms.

I sigh, standing up straighter. They keep saying the better posture I have, the better my wings will grow, but I'm not so sure. The doctor comes back, his own raven-like wings and tail feathers trailing behind him.

"Alright, Tadita, are you ready for one more test?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Alright, good. I want you to stretch your wings out as far as possible, and flap them as hard as you can."

I sigh, doing so. I don't have enough feathers or muscle to even come close to lifting myself off the ground, but everyone can feel the movement in the air.

The doctor writes something on his clipboard, gives a quipped 'thank you', and leaves the room.

"Don't worry baby, we can leave as soon as they have their results. Semuanya akan baik-baik saja."

It's an hour before anyone returns to the room. Mak is rubbing at the tendons in my wings to keep us both occupied. It feels amazing.

The doctor walks in with a couple of papers. "Ok. So far, there hasn't been anything of great importance. Only that he's slightly dehydrated, but other than that he should be perfectly fine at the moment. We will need you to bring in a monthly analysis of how his wings are growing and when he starts practicing. Other than that, you're free to go." He nods his head and exits the room, leaving the door open.

We can finally head home!

Since the doctors' office is on an incline, it is much easier to get home. Living in the mountains is great for flyers like us, but not so much for late-blooming teenagers who still need their parents' help getting down. It can be difficult with varying weights.

Once at home, I immediately head for my room, crawling in my hammock. It's not even that late, yet I feel exhausted. Which, if I plan on falling asleep, I really should get dressed and crawl in bed, but I'm already so comfortable.

Maybe I could just nap for a few minutes?

vī - til - Ī - go, not  vi - TIL - i - go  like I thought

I'm working on a map that I may be able to show you when it's finished. Maybe, though. I'll have to see. The story will make more sense once it's finished.