First Flight

Chapter1

She opened the door and let the cool night air hit her face. The crescent moon enveloped the garden in a gentle glow that reflected off the dew drops. That was a sight that Layla couldn’t bear to miss.

She glanced at the small clock on the other side of the room.

“4:15, perfect” she muttered to herself.

Although she was bare footed and rather cold, she needed to do this tonight. As she dragged her way to the pond, she tripped over twice and almost crushed one of the vegetable patches. There were so many different fruits and vegetables growing in that garden that if they wanted to, they could live off it. Even some of the flowers were of the edible kinds.

As Layla stood, peering into her reflection, she considered jumping in briefly, but then sat down as she reconsidered the thought. The coolness of the grass sent a tingle up her spine. She glanced around her, at the marigolds, at the koi in the pond, at the windows then back to the marigolds. As soon as she assured herself she was safe, she eased her nightie over her back and let her wings spring free. It was as if she had been released from prison. She flapped them, as if she would take off there and then, to a place where she really belonged: her true home.

By that time, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. She could see the purple of her eyes reflected in the clear water, though the koi rippled her image. They were there along with her wings to reminder of who she truly was. She wasn’t a human; she wasn’t a plant but instead in the middle: a faery. To prevent people from delving too deep into her identity, she tied down her wings to her body and wore contact lenses. Day in, day out. She hated it; if she was where she belonged then it would be the absence of wings that was strange, not their presence. If anyone saw them they’d be poked and prodded for the next 200 years as ‘science’ would repeatedly try to answer questions on their existence. Part of it was science but being a faery, it was mostly down to something supernatural. On her wrist laid a bracelet with small glass flowers. The roots of it had practically embedded themselves into her skin. She knew nothing about it apart from that she shouldn’t take it off.

The door creaked behind her as her older sister approached sleepily. She swayed from side to side as if she was a zombie.

‘Layla, why are you up so early?’ she called out. She also had brown hair, but with hazel eyes, nothing out of the ordinary for humans.

That was what Layla called ‘the generic question’. No matter who saw her sitting outside during sunrise or sunset, the same question was asked.

‘I’m a lunar, Sal, had you forgotten already?’

Being a lunar faery meat she was stronger and more invigorated when the moon was up, rather than in the sun. Unlike the rest of her family, they were all solar so night wasn’t really their thing. Sal wrapped her arm around her sister, watching the stars that shone above them.

‘Sal...when do you think we’ll go back to Plantae, to Empy-‘

She butted in.

‘I don’t know Layla. I want to go back to but we can’t go back until-‘

‘Until when?’ Layla interrupted: a tactic against her sister. ‘10, 50, 100 years?! When?!’

‘Calm down...you’re only like 17 years old; you still have over way over 100 years ahead of you’

Layla brushed a hair off her forehead, a sign of defeat. Sadness and disappointment washed over her like a wave. Her family, especially her mother, seemed adamant of keeping things to do with faeries away from Layla. She knew one day they would go back: the human world just isn’t right for a faery. The question as always was when.