Echoes of Forgotten Wings

Chapter 16: The Last Flight

The cave had become a nightmarish enclosure that pressed down, repriving even the shadows. The air in it hung thick, as if forced upon it were unbearable conjectures that had to be made. The storm outside had reached an apex, the distant thunder of an angry god seemingly echoed, and possessed winds, savage enough to rip one's base of exploitation from right under their feet, howled. In the inside, the now useless light from torches threw spindly darkness below and above the walls, widely, and flickering as though the cave was in a state of alert and was simply waiting, no, watching for Ivo to decide upon the choice. In the middle of the ritual circle, bent 

Kael, his wings spread out behind him, the torn feathers blowing slightly in the draft that reached even the innermost part of the cave. He appeared smaller, more withered than previously, body skeletal after exhausting years within prison walls yet in his eyes there remained a spark of life—a will more powerful than the oncoming tempest outside. The once mighty warrior of the Skyborn clan lifted his eyes towards Ivo who was looking back at him filled with strange mixture of longing and dread.

"You have to finish it," Kael said in a strained voice, as if trying to whisper above the sound of the wind. "The ritual. It's the only way." 

Standing at the circle, Ivo found himself squeezed between two vertices—his attachment to the village with all its tribulations and particularly to his mother who was being held captive at the time and the peculiar desire that was so resolute with Kael. He could barely move his hands as if defeated by the illusion of the weight of the feather within his pocket. The artifacts that were around Kael were still alive, their hearts beating weakly but steadily in cadence with the passing time, however, Ivo could not proceed. He was at the crossroads of two destinies and to his utter bafflement, he could not fathom how to decide without obliterating something precious to him.

"Should I take the risk and complete the ritual," Ivo hesitated, breaking emotionally as he explained, "what will happen to the village? My people? If I lose my mother, I might as well be braindead." He looked at the villagers and they seemed frightened. "They believe that this storm I created."

Kael's eyes shifted, and his hard expression betrayed anger. "They are in fear of many things, of you being the least of them." He winced as he attempted to sit up, his wings lying behind him uselessly. "The storm — it is the wrath of the Skyborn. Centuries of its build-up imprisoned within, even before we were thrown down to this earth and deceived. It is not because of you, Ivo. It is because of your forefathers."

"But they believe I am the reason for the village's ruination," Ivo said, his voice low as guilt seemed to go broader than its shores. "They think if I halt the ritual, which is a relative impossibility, the storm will cease."

Kael lowered his head. A mirthless chuckle escaped the thin line of his lips. "The storm will not abate, no matter what you do. It's already out of the bottle. The only thing that can tame it... the only way that can stop it... is to carry on with what we started." He lowered his voice, and for the first time since Ivo had met him, he looked vulnerable for a second. The shadow of Kael's eyes softened, dispelling the bark of a moments ago. "Ivo, the plains are a begging enemy of the skies. For liberty. You don't know what it means for one to have wings and not know flight. To be forced to stay on the ground when your very spirit was intended to rise. I've lived in this cage for over a hundred years and all I have seen was my race get killed and cursed. All we have yearned for is to live in the upper world once more."

Ivo forced his throat to swallow the words that swept through him in waves; the heavy downpour had arrived, and there was nothing he could personally do. His eyes had witnessed the hurt in Kael's eyes; the pain of having to live restricted to the soil when one was, in reality, meant for the skies. He had also sensed the Skyborn magic; the intimacy forged in the bonds of their intertwining fates and the puzzling knowledge that freeing Kael from the shackles of the earth was something connected to his path in a way. But the price—the cost—was too expensive.