White Wings

Chapter 9

"Are you ready?"

"Give me a minute. I think mom ripped my shirt wrong. My wings feel weird around the edges of the slits," I told my dad while adjusting my shirt.

I gave up after a few more useless attempts to fix it. My parents were ready for me so I got in stance and waited.

"Since you just received the healing gift, getting injured won't be too much of a problem," my dad said.

I grinned and gave a small head shake.

"It'll just hurt," I added.

My dad smiled at me and rolled his eyes, knowing I was just saying that to tease him.

"I'm ready!"

We were twenty feet apart from each other. Today's training would be focused on my ability to block. We usually started with simple things and slowly escalated the intensity of the training. My parents agreed that the more pressure I had, the better I would respond.

Lesson of the day: Avoiding attack.

After receiving my healing gift, my parents became intent in making me comfortable with it. Any cuts, gashes, and slashes I had purposely done, had healed in seconds.

To test out just how fast I was at the moment, we were practicing with three objects. If by any chance I got hit, my parents knew I would heal from the blow.

The first object was wooden stakes. They held a dangerous appearance, but I knew they were completely innocent.

Sharp-tipped arrows were the second weapon, which my mom volunteered to shoot. My mom was an expert with bows, something I had to practice with as well. She and my dad agreed that archery was something practical and very useful.

Blades were the third and final weapon. The blades we owned were absolutely beautiful. Before receiving my healing gift, the blades were used in a more cautious manner and simply for practice.

I had to run through the obstacle course my dad and I had created, while I was being attacked by one of the three objects. My dad was hopeful that in a month or two I would be able to handle all three attacks at once.

"Go!" My dad yelled.

I ran through the first maze of obstacles in our backyard. In the first ten feet, the first stake was flying by me, barely missing my wing. I moved out of the way just as another one was shot in my direction.

The rule was that there could be no flying until I reached the woods. Having the stakes shot in my direction only added to the thrill and excitement.

One of my wings took a hit after trying to swerve away from it. The wing ignited in white light where the stake touched it, but the light slowly faded away once the contact was lost.

It usually happened when my wings came into contact with anything. They would glow in the area that was touched and then the light would dim away.

Since it didn't really hurt and hadn't injured my wing, I kept up my speed.

After running the man-made maze one way and back, getting hit a total of four times, one which landed in my head; I finally made it to the woods.

As soon as I entered the woods, my dad started a timer to see how much time it took me to fly. It was a one mile going and one mile coming route, to make it a total of two miles. I was to fly the path and back in eight minutes or less. No one lived near our home for miles, but just to be on the safe side, I flew high enough to blend in and become invisible.

There was a light coat of fog in the air. Small droplets of water touched my skin and coated my wings. The sky was cloudy and the fresh morning air was caressing my skin, so I didn't feel any exhaustion while flying the two miles.