Lost

I : The Gathering of Songbirds

It happened only once every year, the giant mass of bright blue hues and creamy yellows that gathered in a cloud so thick it seemed black as it swooped low, close enough for the gathered crowds to see the magnificent birds within the dark cloud, twisting and turning in a winded dance.

This was the first time she had seen them in her life, the birds bringing forth a sort of childish joy expected from a young girl, not a women embracing her twentieth year as she looked to be. Being average height and holding a pretty face, she was able to stand within the crowd, face upturned like the rest, eyes wide as the birds performed their dance in tittered chirps and despite her shambled dress - more or less mutely coloured rags held together by a woven leather belt cinched at her waist creating a type of coat over her torn trousers- she was able to go unnoticed.

"Mama, Mama! I want one! I want my very own songbird" the squeal of a fair haired boy stuck out at the woman, causing the surreal vision of the birds unearthly dance to fade as she looked around at the unified crowd.

A mix of princes and paupers all mingled together in the biggest show that cost no coin from any. A soft sigh and a small smile before she slipped to the edges of the crowd and finally escaped it, her hands folding in and out of the expensive silks as she slipped by as quick as mice before returning to the dirtied folds of her own tattered cloak.

Once out of the loop and in the safety of an alley some way away, the woman in tatters took pause and stared back at the group, her eyes instinctively seeking out that of the young fair haired boy who wished for his very own songbird. He was dressed properly, shirt of silk tucked into the breeches coloured like the sky and although his vest was crinkled, it too sported an elegant sheen that screamed money.

Yet as she looked over the small child, she almost missed the smaller shadow behind him. Face streaked with dirt, matted hair covering unusually bright eyes that teared with sadness as they looked between the Mother and her tantrum throwing child.

She huffed, paused, went to turn but froze as those unusually bright eyes met her own.

It felt like a tidal, thrashing her against the stone wall behind her as her breath halted. Her body slumped, each movement jerky as she struggled to stand.

"Pretty little birdie, soft and small
Follow through the gales, do not fall
Pretty little birdie, frail but strong
take to the skies where you belong"

A chorus of children's voices, rising with each line of the song before it crashed over the woman so violently she fell into the alley, her hands sneaking through her tresses and gripping at her ears as her mouth opened in a silent echo of a scream.

"Miss?" A real voice, or a childlike torment, the woman couldn't tell, all she did know was that she had to get away, had to hide.

Her arms reached out, blindly, fingers stretching as she grasped and gripped at the stones jutting out from either the ground or the wall next to her. Fingers turning white as she pushed away from the image of gathered children, each dirtied and small, all with the unusual bright eyes she had seen.

"Pretty little birdie, soft and small
Follow through the gales, do not fall
Pretty little birdie, frail but strong
take to the skies where you belong"

"Miss! Calm down, you'll hurt yourself!" The voice was persistent, firm. Not like the airy breaths of the children gathered before her.

The woman paused at the corner of the alley, her breathing ragged, her nails trailing blood as the vision faded, the demonic singing weakening as the firm shake of the shoulders cleared her sight.

Emerald eyes, deep and firm held her as the owner let slip her shoulders. The man seemed rugged, hair long and falling in his eyes and a feint scar, barely there it almost wasn't, stretching from the top of his forehead through his left eye and resting through his cheek to just below his chin.

"Little birdies" The woman whispered studying his face as he studied hers.

"Yes, the Songbirds out in the Squares" He replied softly, pulling back and standing.

She looked up at him and stood, clutching at her cloak and wiping off the gathered dirt before looking to the man. He dwarfed her in size, having to duck beneath a back ways awning as he leaned, staring at her. Fine leather suited him, seen in the bracers on his arm and the leather breeches bare of any holes or rips.

"Thank you, Sir" The woman whispered meekly, catlike eyes hidden beneath a frame of hair.

"You should really work on where you decide to run your business, harlots aren't necessarily accepted so close to the palace grounds" The man sneered, his mouth twisting in a cruel smirk as his eyes continued to travel over her body.

The woman stood stock still, her mind reeling at the sudden turn of conversation and tone.

"However, if you're around Markers Crest after Dusk, I'll be sure to make your time worthwhile" She didn't think his smirk could twist any crueler but was soon eating her words as it did.

He stepped forward, she stepped back, each continuing until she found herself backed into the opposite wall, his body covering hers in a risque manner left only to the alleys.

"I would love to make it worth your while" his breath fanned over her face but she didn't see his face, or his eyes, but the eyes of another.

She began trembling once more, alerting the man of another attack before he stepped back himself, a gasp, a quick fist and a stamp on the foot was all it took for the man to curl in, fall back and curse before she was off, scampering like the mouse she was and leaving the man gasping and confused.

However, he wasn't the only one wondering how on earth she could do that.