White wings make you fly

White wings make you fly Ch.5

Chapter 5: Following the Fairy Lights

When we landed the storm was over and Emilio looked extremely tired, almost ready to collapse. He landed in a very dense forest just beyond the hills, not far off was a house or cabin. I wasn't sure exactly what it was; I hadn't been around other places outside of the castle. "Here put these on." He said pulling out some brightly colored garments. They jingled in places but covered almost my whole body as I put them on over the plain cloths from the castle. Emilio put on an interesting colored tunic and patched up trousers.

I took of the jacket and shoved it in the large bag that I saw was filled full of foods that where dehydrated. "Where are we headed?"

"Just to the Inn near by, the folks are friendly there and have gypsy relatives. You'll find most people either love or hate gypsies."

"Why, what's wrong with them?"

"People believe they steal money or corrupt your judgment with sin."

"Sin?" I said not understanding. "What is sin?"

"Right no religion, ah it's like a sense or morality some people have. It's really complicated I'll explain it to you some day." He said slinging the pack over his shoulders.

"So when will my wings be as big as yours, and how do you put them away like that, their like molded to your back under your cloths. I can't see them at all!" I said trying to peek at his baggy tunic to see if I would be able to glimpse them from behind.

"It takes years of practice, some people never master it and have to rely on the special biscuits, but that can be dangerous."

"What if feather falls out?"

"Depending on where you are and how big it is it usually doesn't matter, there are plenty of birds and feather beds, and exotic quills."

"How are the biscuits dangerous if they make your wings disappear?"

"Well first off, you can't fly away. Your powers are limited to a mere Halflings powers like my own at full strength. Overall, while it's a good conservative tool, it does nothing when you're on the run, a bird is meant to fly and it's crippling if you can't. A lot of people would give their right leg to capture a winged one."

"Why?"

"They're always beautiful creatures, they heal fast, they bring good luck, and they're a symbol of status because of their power. Over all if you own one you're equal to the king in riches because their also very rare."

"But to damage one?" I asked finally realizing why I was so valuable.

"To damage one, and it's unable to repair is damaging your goods, some even say it can damage the luck because the body can get a magic blockage trying to constantly heal but unable to."

"But cutting off my wings didn't do this?"

"They where never fully developed, you never flew. Most people don't realize though if you don't fly five years after your wings begin to grow, a winged one dies. We where not meant to stay grounded, it is why we are such magical beings."

We continued walking until we finally found a dirt path that was very wide, wide enough for a wagon or a couple horsemen. "Do you know why I was sold Emilio? Or who my parents are?" I asked hesitantly.

"Do you really care to know after being a slave all these years?"

"Not really, but I'd like to know. I want to know how I got there, why no one came after me. If I'm so rare, I'd like to know if I'm a Halfling or a full blood. I'd like to know perhaps... if they cared."