The Legacy of Dirty Birds

In Which Sacrifices are Willing and Selfish

"You're a deadwing?" Calum reeled as the memory faded. "You're...you're a deadwing."

"I," Idris Opaling shook where she kneeled, "will not allow this to happen."

She slammed her palms into the ground and cracks spread throughout the invisible surface. Calum's wings snapped out as he fell to the ground, pain ripped through his shoulder. The scenery flashed before him at a rapid rate. He was pushed aside as trees sprouted from the ground and rocketed through adolescence. What he thought were clouds or fog, he realized were people moving so fast he couldn't see them. Light and dark flickered like candlelight in the breeze as years passes in mere seconds. The air was filled with a dull roar, he was hearing the stars scrape across the sky.

"You're a deadwing." Calum said above the roar. "You're a traitor to your own kind."

"How dare you say that to me," she growled, her blonde strands fell in front of her eyes. "My own kind?"

A figure flickered in the distance, a man. Then it was night. Calum and Idris were on a white tiled floor just like the one in the room she'd brought him too. Calum might have thought they'd returned to the present if the moon hadn't been full and shining and a young, blonde, Idris Opaling wasn't standing in an archway a few feet away. Loose threads of Calum's breath caught on the back of his throat. Dragging against the floor behind her were two pure white wings, glistening in the moonlight.

Young Idris turned at the sound of footsteps. The man was there. He was her age, and wore the same ceremonial robe.

"You can still come with me, Idris."

The young welven woman pursed her lips and the possibility of escape flashed before her eyes one last time. The flame was immediately snuffed out by cold breeze that rolled in with her clenched fists.

"I can't just leave, I'm the only one who can save us, idiot."

"Idris," his eyes were dark, and soft, "you've never believed what the High Welf told you our whole lives. They'll be no one left for you when we go, no friends, no happiness. I can't understand what happened. Why now?"

Her lip trembled, she bit down on it. "I thought you meant it when you promised you wouldn't leave me alone. I thought making friends here would be different once I tried to be nicer."

"We're still your friends, nothing's changed."

"That's the thing." Idris's hands fell to her sides. "Nothing changed when I came here from the territories, I thought it would be different. It wasn't. I still have-I'm still allowed to play the game in order to survive, and I don't want things to change. It's not like this is the only life I've known. I tried it your way, I was nice to your friends, I didn't report their treason for reward."

"But you changed." The man stated. "It's your treason too."

"I suppressed my true nature," the feathers along her spine rose and ripples like hackles on a stray dog.

His brow curled in frustration. "Why don't you want to do the right thing? Why don't you want to go where deadwings and welves can live in peace?"

"Because they deserve it."

He was taken aback. "They?"

"I'm not one of them," she panted, "you wouldn't understand, I've wanted this my whole life. I owe it all to the High Welf. I owe her everything."

"Idris..." He took a few steps back. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

Young Idris snapped her fingers and light flooded the tower. The High Welf materialized from the air with her hands outstretched. The man screamed as his body flailed uncontrollably. He struggled until he was brought to his knees, the tower guards surrounding him.