Collaterals

What Wonders.

There are some things only wings could help you see.

For example, with wings, one could soar so high that one sees clouds for what they were: pockets of gas. With wings, one could soar from the base of mountains to their icy peaks, or run their feathered tips into cool water, sending disturbed ripples down an otherwise stagnant pond.

With Wings, one might have seen the artisans and dancers packing their instruments away as guests shuffled out the roof. Or seen then overturned chair at the center of a large table set squarely beneath a wide dome.

With wings, one might have seen a young prince, feet so quick across a paved courtyard that it seamed he floated above its expanse, a shoulder hunched as he looked behind it in only the way a fugitive would. One could see him then look ahead, and raise the hood of his cloak so that it swallowed his head whole, so that he could not be seen. With wings, one might know that the young Prince was seen. In fact, he'd been seen by another Prince, an older one, standing by a window, peering into night. It was only when the the hood was raised, when the Younger Prince seemed to mix into the night's darkness that the Older Prince stepped back, shut the window, and turned to face the princess waiting indignantly in his room.

With Wings, one might have flown between marble columns, and one might have seen a another cloaked figure, one with a blue hood and a muted mouth, waiting by the torch that lit a staircase.

With Wings, one might have soared so high they saw the King's bedchamber, and perched on the parapet of his balcony. One might have seen the King himself, tucked into bed, long since asleep. And one might have seen his eldest son sat at the tip of his bed, head— hung between hunched shoulder— so heavy against the weight of a phantom crown, creeping closer now to his head. One might have seen the Queen, settled into an armchair, staring at her son's hunched back.

With wings, one might have fled that doleful scene and followed a Princess, one with hair that fell almost to the ground and eyes that shone with a blue such that, in another time, it would be called electric. Now, though, it was called unnatural. And it was, unnatural, to see the girl walk in a daze, to see her descend into a cold dark hallway, and to see her claw at walls, utter words that could be heard only by deaf stone.

Oh, what wonders wings could let one see.