The Unwanted Princess

I listen to the wind of my soul

The wind was calm by the lookout on top of the fortress cliffs. Usually it howled through the sharp spires and in winter the lookouts worked only two-hour shifts huddled in their shelters. Avery's eyes scanned the horizon but the mountains blocked the view. The winter sun was blindingly bright as it reflected off the snowy peaks. Perhaps there were trees just over the next ridge, she couldn't tell.

"What do you look for every morning?" a scout asked, pulling Avery from her thoughts. "The view is always the same, but every morning you look out as though you'll find something different. Twice, this morning."

Every morning Avery woke before dawn and ran the stairs. In the dark she imagined it was Corinth and she was climbing up to Roedin's apartment. He would be waiting for her at the top. She would knock on his door and would wake him. It was ridiculous since he was always awake before her, only sleeping for a few hours at night. But in her dream he would answer the door groggily, wearing only his undershorts, because no one ever popped by the mountain apartments. She could easily picture him half-dressed; she had cared for his broken body for so many months.

He would be surprised to see her and then embarrassed at the state of the apartment, but he would invite her in regardless because he didn't like her standing on the landing with no railing. She would laugh and hand him the coffee she had carried up the stairs, the weight making her arms sore.

Her arms were sore now. But not from carrying coffees, from carrying iron handcuffs strapped to her wrists. Her arms were sore but her muscles were strong from the added weight in her workouts. She had long ago passed their 'fitness test', though after the demonstration of her skills against Pike and Hazel the trainers had waved the requirement. She made the climb every morning regardless, anxious to look out over the mountain ramparts that hid the human city from prying eyes. The scout thought she was looking at the landscape but she had easily memorised all the peaks and valleys already. No, she was looking at the sky, holding out some vain hope that a winged warrior might be flying by.

A nightmare had woken her early today and she had arrived at the summit before dawn. She descended and made the climb again so on her second climb the sun was already above the peaks lighting up the mountains.

"Temperature inversion," she said to the sky, but she was answering the scout. "Warm air rises, cold air sinks. On calm days the sun heats the air in the valley bottom and it moves up the slope so it's actually warmer higher up."

"There's warmth in the sun again then," the scout responded, tilting his face to the light as though he were a flower who could soak it up.

"Yes. Spring will be here soon."

She turned and started making her way down the stairs again. The thought of spring was both heartening and saddening. They were still only just past mid-winter. There had been a solstice celebration where they stayed up all through the longest night, sang songs and drank spiced wine. The elders told stories, legends of past, of how the earth was formed, how the humans loved the earth, and how the sapiens had tainted it with their magic. Avery had listened politely, always keen to hear a good story, but was increasingly frustrated by how they painted all sapiens as monsters. Faunids were rarely even in the stories; like they weren't 'people' enough to be include as more than livestock.

Avery caught herself grinning as she picked her way down the slick stairs, moisture falling out of the warm air at the summit. She was thinking of how much Arctos loved pumpkin-spiced coffee and the way he became a gentle giant around younglings. Livestock, indeed.

Her foot slipped off a step and she went down hard, landing on her bottom and sliding a few more steps before catching herself on the rough rock wall. She groaned and lay on the steps for a moment guessing which part of her body would bruise first.