On War-Charred Wings

Part 1

A flutterous host wafts through the air here at the edge of the world. The ground is broken and shattered, nigh uninhabitable to most beings that call the earth home. One exception to this rough terrain has seen it fit even raise a rule over these lands. They are the Heraldians, or, outside of their own Kingsland, Heralds. They are winged creatures similar to humans and also close relatives of sirens, which are commonly known for their sweet songs and ravenous mannerisms. In addition to being able to conquer the skies, Heraldian descendants have also acquired the talent of their less than savory ancestors. They are renown throughout the land as singers, musicians, and poets. But do not take them for gentle birds of song. Indeed, they war and whore just as well as their slightly more tolerable human relations.
King Cerelian rules the Everreach with just laws and sometimes unconventional methods. He's known for his stubbornness, but also loves his people and holds them in high esteem.
Horns burst with joyous noise as a watchman signals the return of Prince Cerelian. However, He does not meet his armed escort as expected, but instead soars high overhead and straight into Princess Casper Cerelian's chambers. His sight meets that of his sister and the two embrace for the first time in a long while. As she pulls away he notices her blood staining his garment. "What has that old fool done to you?" The Prince replied, his anger welling.
"I will not speak ill of father. He did what he thought was right."
"I've seen his knowledge of right and it is incredibly lacking. Tell me, before I am forced to extract it from him."
"He pushed me from this tower expecting my wings to catch my fall."
"They are barely grown. It is normal for women to develop their wings slowly, for they are more focussed on beauty. Had he not been set on selling you to House Vathkan for their allegiance, he wouldn't have risked your life so hastily!"
Harken smashed his sisters table and spiraled out of the window in a tremendous fury. The door burst open and guards rushed in, along with the kings primary advisor, Kelligor Whitemane.
"Did your brother harm you princess?"
"I'm not the one you should be concerned about. Get to my father's side. My brother's wrath is nothing to underestimate."
The gates to the Kings chamber cave open as the Prince marched to the foot of his father's throne.
"I have half a mind to gather an army and raze the keep of Vathkan to the ground!"
"You dare approach your king in this state? Ser Arrion, detain the Prince!"
"Arrion, if you get in my way I swear on whatever gods you serve I will cut you down. I'm ordering you to leave me and my father to settle this."
Ser Arrion positioned himself between Harken and his father. His sword drawn and his golden armor gleaming. "I take orders from my king, Prince Harken. I beg you to reconsider your approach."
Harken drew his blade and spread his wings. Ser Arrion lunged toward Prince Harken, white steel brandishing. Harken attempted to parry, however Arrion was too accustomed to the prince's way of fighting. The blade made contact with the prince's gauntlet, but merely glanced off. Arrion was close now. The Prince pulled the sword to his chest and struck Arrion face with his elbow. Arrion staggered back but for a moment before cutting at the prince's left wing. The blade went in between the feathers, leaving the Prince unharmed. Harken threw his right wing into Arrion, slamming him against the stone wall of the throne room. There he laid, breathing but unconscious.
Prince Harken sheathed his blade and approached the king once more.
"My sister now rests in her tower covered in bloodied wounds. Is that how you would have her suitor see her?"
"Do not pester me about Casper's injuries for they are far from life threatening and would in fact be non-existent had she simply..."
"Simply what father? Put a dagger through your heart? What other choice was she given? Hellish Abandon, she's still your daughter first before any other man!"
"What choice do I have, Harken? After your absence, the people damn near rioted about your refusal to marry Lady Drescott! The supply lines were cut! Damn it, boy, your the reason your sister now rests in that tower."
"Don't you pin your cowardice on me, father. You refuse the idea of war in favor of trading off your own children!"
"The people come before me! Before any of the royal family. Without the people, what am I, Harken? I did what your selfishness put me in a position to do."
"I don't care how my selfishness drove you to push my sister out of the tower, but if you so much as speak another word to her about this wedding, I'll kill her suitor myself."
Harken folded his wings and walked towards the exit. "Curious to see how you fare when I drive you to open war with the Dresscotts."
"I'll hang you in the streets should I hear of such treason!"
A moment of tense silence followed as the king breathed angrily and eventually returned to the seat of his throne. Ser Arrion rose and knelt before his king.
"Ser Arrion, I hereby see you as unfit to protect your king." The king said with a grim face. "Today, in front of the sky throne and all my kingdom, I release you from my service."
    "Y...yes, your grace."
"However, If you do wish to retain the title of ser, I may ask a favor of you."
"I will do as you command, Lord."
"Keep watch over my son. I know not where his allegiance lies, but it is not with the wellness of my kingdom nor it's people. He is not to leave the city. Should he betray my decree, return him to me at once."
"It will be done, my King. I shall be with him as a shadow to a light."
Taverns are a common sight in the realm. They offer a release of the mind for common folk and entertainment in the form of drinking, competitions, and gambling. Harken walked through the door of one such tavern; one he had visited many times in his youth, often without the knowledge of his mother and father. The young prince was no stranger to drunken brawls or a grueling game of vestoc. In fact, it was often because the vestoc proved so grueling that the brawls often followed. As he grabbed a mug of Ale, his mind drifted to the world outside of his father's realm. The people there knew nothing of travelling through the sky as he did. They mounted beasts with sacks of leather and trampled the ground at great speeds rivaling his own. Their armor ranged from thick plate and broad shields to cured leather and wooden bucklers. Some feared him, while others revered him. Heralds were a rare sight to the east, and many mistook him for a delorian or a servant of the gods. It was different and somewhat pleasant even for the prince to experience a world where the skies were empty and the earth flowing with life. However, the skies there did harbor occasional dangers he was not accustomed too. Griffins and drakes were a common sight. Most kept to themselves, but one decided that a possible meal in his territory was worth losing a head to. Harken reached into his pocket and pulled feathers of green, red, and yellow from it. A trophy from a griffin that ventured a little too close. He tore a string of cloth from his garment and tied the feathers together and fastened them to his right wing. His wings were but a dismal grey, almost black. As were the color of his father's and his father before him and so on. The colored feathers were obviously not his own, and looked rather out of place, but he left them tied anyway. Perhaps they would prevent another encounter with a beast somewhere along the way. Suddenly, Harken felt a solid slap on his shoulder that shook him from his daydreams.
"Your father didn't enjoy the performance we put on for him." Ser Arrion pulled a nearby stool up and sat next to the prince.
"I wasn't aware I had the pleasure of being in a play."
"Ease off it. I know you would never put a sword to your father, as stubborn and reckless as you both are."
"What did he say after I left?"
"Well...he grumbled angrily to himself as I lay there on the ground, potentially passing, sat down and ordered servants fetch him the strongest drink in the land."
"Was he furious when you finally 'came to'?"
"He simply told me that if I could not protect him from his own son, he would find someone who could."
"I don't wish to put you in that position, Arrion. You are a good friend and have been very good to my father. I also imagine that should there be a next time, you would not be so forgiving in combat."
Arrion let out a feint laugh. "How is Casper fareing?"
Harken paused and took another swig of ale. "She's bloody and bruised, but will not raise a fuss with our father. 'Father knows what he's doing' and so on. She's always been quick to dismiss him and his antics. Very much like our mother, gods rest her soul."
"Casper is a gentle soul, maybe too gentle for her own good at times." Arrion grabbed Harken's ale and swilled the rest. "Now come..." Arrion said as he stood, "the city wishes to celebrate the return of their prince!"