A Very Simple Story (A VOCALOID Fanfic)

Who are you?

In a land far away and deep in the past, two tribes existed.

The first were called the Faeji. They were mysterious and beautiful, heavenly beings. Their dark wings allowed them to soar across the sky with the simple effort of inhaling the wind.

The second were called the Juhmí. They were ugly and pale, cursed to be forever bound to the earth, and looked upon the Faeji and their wings with jealousy and spite.

It would be natural to assume they had nothing to do with one another.

But, if only that were true.

If a Juhmí could slay a Faeji, the victor would earn the power of flight. And every Juhmí coveted that power more than anything, even their own lives.

So, until the Juhmí would stop trying to break their bonds to the earth and take to the sky with stolen wings, the would be no end to the war between tribes.

=•=•=

Of all the Faeji, he was the most foolish.

With hair the color of blood and wings as dark as ebony, he was a paragon of how a Faeji should appear. However, his spirit was marred with a morbid curiosity. The other Faeji ignored the song drifting from the Shifting Forest with steadfast determination. He alone paid heed.

The song, haunting and beautiful, could always be heard as the sun sank in the sky, falling behind the trees. It was sung without words, a lullaby that swelled with the forest's deepening slumber.

Tonight he would find the singer.

It could be a trap, his tribe warned him. A Juhmí could be waiting in the darkness for a chance at stealing his wings. It was better to wait for the flighty hopeful to come to him. They all did, eventually. The Juhmí were much too fickle to stick to one place or plan for long.

Besides, no one entered the Shifting Forest. There were too many places to be trapped, to be ambushed, to have the wings ripped from one's back. And the forest constantly shifted, as its name implied. One day the forest could be deciduous, and the next, petrified.

The night he entered the forest, tall black pines stretched up from the earth, casting sharp shadows on withered grass.

He strode through the trees, the pines dwarfing him in stature like sentinels guarding the gates of heaven. A chill snaked its way through the underbrush and around his ankles.

The forest only shifted only in his peripheral vision. A thorny branch in the bushes transformed into a vine with violet blossoms. To his left, the bark on a tree twisted into a face, then to an eye, then to simple wood once again. He refused to let the shifts steal his attention and continued to walk with his wings tucked close behind his back. 

It started off slow and low in the distance, a gentle lullaby sung without words, deceptively warm and familiar.

He continued to walk. Never stopping, never slowing, until he was well into the dark forest. Soon the voice was directly above him, floating down from a distant treetop. Or so he thought.

He spoke as confidently as possible, projecting his words upwards with the utmost conviction.

"Who are you?"

The voice disappeared.

A force struck him like an arrow in the chest so fast and strong it toppled him over and caused him to roll several times over the grass until a strange body prevailed, pinning him down with terrifying ease.

He gasped as a cold blade pressed against his throat. 

This was the last moment of his life, he knew.

But maybe...

Maybe there would be something in his attacker's face, some semblance of a righteousness that deserved wings more than he.

Fukase opened his eyes.

But there was only the face of a boy of Juhmí hideousness above him, tears streaming from yellowed eyes, down pallid cheeks, and dripping onto Fukase's forehead.

This creature was

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familiar?

"Oli—-"

The knife stole his breath away.