Godless

Chapter 8

Life for me actually started to fall into something akin to normal after that. Ilia bullied Link into letting me return to the bed under the stairs at her house (for propriety's sake, she had said), and I promised him that I wouldn't leave the little village of Ordon under any circumstances.

Having my wings finally free, my weakness and fevers dissipated and my odd ability to heal quicker than humans made it so that, by the end of the day, my torn back had healed and I was able to offer myself up for services to Bo (the name of her horned mustached father), and Ilia. Ilia, who while feminine down to the bone and quite the good cook, hated housework, and happily handed it over to me. I soon became some sort of show for the few villagers, who found it the most remarkable thing in the world to see a winged girl doing their mayor's laundry and dishes. Now, I'm not going to brag, but I'm a queen when it comes to housework, so within a week I was doing everyone else's laundry, and happily so. There's nothing like the peace of listening to the breeze, smelling the air, and spreading out a wide white sheet across a line.

Now and then I'd feel little fingers poking into my feathers and I'd turn around to see one of the village children running for it as fast as they could. After the fifth time this happened, I whipped around with one of the dry blankets and threw it over the perpetrator like a net. The little boy screamed and begged for mercy, making me grin.

"You know, it's impolite to touch a lady without asking for permission." I said.

The blanket wriggled once before falling still.

"You're not going to eat me, are you?"

I laughed. "Eat you? Eww. I prefer cheese. Are you going to eat me?"

"Only if you taste like chicken."

This should have been offensive to me, seeing I had wings and all, but I only laughed and lifted up my blanket net. A frazzled, brown haired boy crouched at my feet, short eyebrows giving him a perpetually bemused expression, no matter how he moved his face.

"Now that's just rude." I said.

"I'm sorry."

I crouched down to his eye level and stretched out my fore-feathers to him. He blinked at my wing in confusion.

"Go on," I poked him with a feather. "You wanted to touch them, right?"

At first he was cautious, as though afraid I'd change my mind at any minute. But soon the softness of my wings set him at ease and he was running his fingers down with a look of awe. Two other children, the girl and the blond boy I had seen earlier, came out of hiding to watch in amazement, but they too came over to bury their hands into the softness. It actually felt kind of nice, although weird.

"I told them not to," said the girl, who looked to be just over the edge of starting puberty. "They can be so immature."

"Yeah right, Beth, you were the one who kept gawking at her like some freak show."

Her freckled cheeks flushed. "I was not!" And to hide her embarrassment she hid her face in my left wing, which she had to herself while the two boys had my right.

"What's your name?" asked the blond boy politely. I recognized the face of the woman who had rocked her baby on her porch in his features.

"Hanna." I said. "What's yours?"

"Collin."

"I'm Beth, as you've heard."

"I'm Talo! I have a brother, Malo, you've probably seen him, but he's back home with his fingers all over that stupid bead thingy of his."