Feathers From A Lost Kingdom

Chapter 1

                                                                                              Chapter 1
                                                                                               Llewelyn
UPDATED

"Llewelyn!"
My eyes open at the sound of my mother's voice. The sun has been up for hours already. I groan, opening my eyes. "Coming..." I pull myself out of bed and slip into the bathroom. My wings, barely noticeable, shimmer slightly in the mirror as I pass. In a few days my real wings will appear, but until then I'm stuck with these foggy things that have been clambering to my back since the day I was born.
I take a quick shower and get ready to meet with Eilam.
"Hey you!" mom calls from the kitchen.
"Yeah?" I turn around silently praying for this to be quick.
"Where are you going? You haven't even eaten anything yet."
I know I shouldn't tell her, but I can't lie. "I'm meeting up with some friends."
"Who?" she says without looking up from the cutting board.
"Uhm..Eilam, we're just going to-"
She cuts me off with a sigh and signals for me to go. I stay still for a moment. I thought, or more like hoped, that her dislike for Eilam had died away. Apparently It hadn't. I shoot her an apologetic smile and slip out the door before she changes her mind.

The city shines before me. The clean white stone buildings makes the day feel warmer. The cobblestone streets are filled with whitewings rushing on to finish various errands. Among them children are running around, filling the air with laughter and the sound of tiny footsteps. I've always loved Luminia. The symmetrical streets, the white stone against the green plants trailing along the house walls from all of the various gardens, the constant happiness in the air... Nothing could ever top that. I look up and admire the huge castle towering above the homes with the beautiful gardens. Being the oldest building in Luminia, it's not made out of the traditional white dolomite we use on our houses, but of marble. The building has delicate towers, great halls, and more rooms than I care to count. Even from here I can spot several Luminian flags blowing in the wind. I spot Eilam exiting the bakery across the street.
His blonde hair shines in the sun, bright against his piercing blue eyes. My friends had all been swooning over him back when we first met. That was before they found out how much of a nerd he was of course, with his sarcastic comments and terrible humor. Since then I had been his closest friend. His blue eyes meet mine and he walks across the road.
"Late as always," he says with a smile.

"Anything else would be disappointing," I answer, almost flattered that he knows me so well.

"If it was anyone else, I would disagree, but coming from the girl who was late to the first day of school I can't say that I'm surprised."

We start walking down the street eastward with our backs to the castle, towards the tailor.

"I still don't understand why I have to come, really wouldn't Alexi or Cyra kill to join you?" he whines, as he has ever since I convinced him to help me pick out a dress.

"I know you don't like this, but you're leaving tomorrow! I'm not going to see you for the next month, cut me some slack." I sigh. Ever since I heard about him being sent over to the blackwing capital I had been dreading the day. Being at the top of his class he had to go as a part of the peace treaty signed so many years ago. Everyone knew that we were at the brink of war, and that the real reason behind sending students was to spy on each other, rather than letting the other race know our secrets. Basically he was just going to check out their defences, their techniques, anything that might come in handy if - or rather when - this war broke out.

The tailor's shop stands before us. It's bustling with activity as everyone runs in and out with their clothes to get them fitted for the masquerade. We walk through the door, opening up a world of colors and fabrics of all kinds. Around us the shelves are filled to the brink with dresses in all colors and sizes. They seem to be organized in some kind of system beyond my understanding. Everything is as I remember it from the few times I've been here. Usually the noble born whitewings are the only ones in the shops like this. They're the only ones rich enough, and entitled enough, to buy dresses of this stature. To my left, behind a surprisingly neat spruce desk, stands the shop assistant.