Discovering Fae

Chapter Feathers



A little more poking and Dad was certain I was going to be budding wings soon, which had him as confused as I was. If I was going to be a fairy, I would have budded wings during my Awakening, with them breaking through by the time I woke up. But, according to him, it was impossible for me to be a fairy because of Mom. Her bloodline would always come forward over any other, a fact proven over centuries of records.

“I was noticing the shadows were moving and it wasn’t me doing it,” he said as we slowly walked back toward the town. “I think it’s best if, for now, we don’t tell anyone but your mother about this until I have a chance to look into this a little more.”

“What about Mal?” I asked.

“He’s about ready to have a stroke already as it is,” Dad snorted. “Imagine what he’d be like if he had to worry about you in the air as well as on the ground.”

“Valid point,” I nodded. “I don’t like keeping things from him, though.”

“I know. But the way those four are going, it’ll be at least a few days before they come up with any decent plan for Malokia,” Dad nodded. “Normally, I would take over and get it over with, but it might be better if we just let them fight it over while we hit the books.”

“We?” I asked.

“Unless you want to be in that nightmare,” he made a face. “I love your mother with every bit of my being, but she’s not the greatest at covert operations.”

We got back to the house and Mal was in a fit because I had left until Dad glowered over my head at him and asked if he was accusing him of being unable to protect his daughter. I had to hide my smile when he winked at me, proving he was only making a point.

Since going to sleep proved to be an adventure since the bed in my room was for a small child, not an adult, let alone two of them. Mal ended up throwing pillows and blankets on the floor for us while Ben and Blaine took over the couches downstairs. I slept horribly, but I was glad it wasn’t due to nightmares.

The morning came and Dad, being the clever man that he was, asked about the plan so far, which renewed the previous night’s debate. With a slight tilt of his head, he signaled for me to follow him, and we left the house.

“Your mother suggested meeting with a friend of ours by the name of Raiz,” he said, handing me a leather jacket. “He’s either going to tolerate you or he’ll hate the very ground you walk on, but he’s probably the only person in any realm that might be able to shed some light on why you seem to be manifesting two races.”

“Could it be possible that I’m a chimera?” I asked.

“That’s pretty rare,” he looked at me like I just grew a second head. “How do you about chimeras?”

“I met one not that long ago,” I said as he led me around the house to a paved area in the garden. “She was quite interesting.”

“Do you know which races manifested in her?”

“Siren, seer, and valkyrie,” I said, and he whistled.

“Lucky you lived through that encounter,” he commented. “Alright, little one, hold on tight.”

He wrapped his arms around my middle and in no time, we were in the air. Flying with my dad was different than flying with Mal. Dad’s wings were silent, thanks to the fine layer of felt, and he was much faster, being older and having more developed flight muscles. It was also obvious that he often flew with another person, since he knew just how to angle us so the wind didn’t feel like it was ripping my eyeballs out of my head.

Before long, I felt solid ground under my feet again and stepped away from my dad as he patted my hair back down. He smiled at me before looking over my head.

“Welcome to Phoenix Hollow,” he said lifting his chin to indicate the vastness behind me.

I turned and immediately tilted my head to the side in confusion. The soil was black and gray with ash and the trees were all scorched and some were still smoldering, however, there was vibrant green reclaiming the damage in grasses, ferns, and moss.

“I don’t get it,” I said, bending down to inspect the greenery. “All this damage and ash should set back growth at least a full cycle of the seasons. But that tree is still glowing with heat.”

“It’s the way the life cycles here,” Dad said, looking around the area like he was waiting for something. “Phoenix Hollow isn’t just a pretty name. When the phoenix rises from its nest of ash, so does the life here. When the phoenix burns out, it’s fire spreads through the whole region to begin again in the next life cycle of its guardian.”

“How long until the cycle begins again?” I asked.

“It depends on the one who holds dominion,” he shrugged. “Judging by that smoldering tree and how far along the new life is already, I would wager that the current guardian is the one we came here to see.”

“You would wager well, old friend,” a male's voice called out from above us.

Dad and I both looked up and I stood slowly as a man surrounded by fire descended, landing gently in the new grass in front of us. Even from fifty feet, I could still feel the near blistering heat coming from him. With him stationary, I could see that he had red and orange feathers in his hair, along the sides of his face, across his bare chest and arms and on the backs of his hands. His eyes looked like a bird of prey and were a bright yellow. He looked to be in his early twenties, maybe, but it was only a guess.

“Raiz,” Dad nodded to him.

“Quinn,” Raiz returned the gesture then eyeballed me like I was a bug he was debating on squishing or not. “Why isn’t Mary with you?”

“This is our daughter, Faella,” Dad put his hand on my shoulder.

“She has been found,” he nodded, sounding like he was commenting on the weather. “You know my allegiance ends with you and yours. Child or not, I will not follow her as I do you.”

“And why the hell would I want you to?” I asked with a too sweet tone. “The sulfur beds here are very pure. The purest, if I’m not mistaken. But it isn’t impossible to refine lower quality from other sources that don’t have a tool for a guardian.”

“Fae,” Dad said, giving my shoulder a hard squeeze.

“And the feathers you provide, on the obscenely rare occasion, don’t exactly make putting up with your resting vulture face worth it,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I would control your daughter if I were you, Quinn,” Raiz said darkly with a bright yellow and vibrant orange flame dancing along his arms from finger to elbow.

“Nice party trick, Feathers, but I can do that, too,” I said with a narrow glare and raised my hands, showing the fire that matched his own.

Dad backed away with a heavy sigh as Raiz sneered and took a step forward. Then another. When he stood less than three feet away, he stopped, looking at me like I was a too bold mouse he was about to snatch up and devour.

“To what do I owe this... pleasant visit?” he asked, his voice sounding like the gentle crackling of a campfire.

“I would choose a very different adjective, Feathers, but whatever you want to call it,” I shrugged.

“It’s actually about her Awakening,” Dad said, and Raiz flicked his eyes to him.

“She has reached her majority,” Raiz commented. “She’s alive, obviously, so how could her Awakening be an issue?”

“There’s been a minor development,” Dad grimaced.

I scoffed, earning the joys of Raiz’s eyes on me. Gods above, he was unsettling.

“And what is this development?” he asked.

“I’m suddenly growing wings,” I shrugged. “It’s not supposed to be possible and for some reason, my parents thought it would be best to come see you, though I’m beginning to question the wisdom in that decision.”

“You have a sharp tongue, lost princess,” he said. “Pity you only make pretty lights and nothing with any real bite to them.”

“And it’s a shame all you know is bite, like a rabid dog in need of the Old Yeller treatment,” I replied. “Are you going to be of any help or are we just wasting our time?”

“Do you have more pressing matters to see to, lost princess?” he asked.

“Other than being subjected to your bad manners and worse attitude? Literally anything would be better,” I nodded.

I heard another loud sigh from Dad as he backed up some more and Raiz tilted his head sideways, his pupils going from large to small and back again.

“How are you doing this?” he asked after a moment.

“Doing what, exactly?” I asked.

“Fae,” Dad called, and I turned to look at him, finding him a fair distance away and sweating. “Look around you.”

The grass that was once a vibrant green, was now wilted and smoldering around Raiz and me. The world was warped in the waves of heat that came from the man in front of me, yet I felt no warmer than I was when he first touched the ground in front of us.

“I guess I’m not that easily impressed,” I shrugged, taking a guess.

Raiz growled and grabbed my shoulders, roughly spinning me around and slapping his hand on my spine between my shoulder blades. I shrieked as pain exploded in my back. It was like electricity and fire and ice and every kind of pain imaginable all at once. I was convinced my skin was being peeled off my body one excruciating millimeter at a time.

After what felt like an eternity, the pain left and I fell to my knees, panting and sweating as if I had just run like Forrest Gump. I couldn’t help feeling a little mad that I felt that way and didn’t have at least the legs to show for it.

“Fae!” Dad shouted, his wings vibrating behind him.

I shot to my feet and turned around, swinging a fist right for Raiz, catching him in the jaw and sending him reeling back a few steps.

“Try something like that again, Feathers, and I swear, you won’t get the chance to be reborn,” I growled.

He rubbed his jaw with a look of shock on his face before he righted himself and inclined his head at me.

“Apologies,” he said. “You are indeed budding wings, young princess, but it’s not what you think.”

“How do you mean?” Dad asked coming closer now that Raiz had cooled himself off. “Mary’s bloodline always dominates the other race. There’s no way she should be budding anything, let alone wings.”

“That is true,” Raiz nodded. “Come. There’s something you need to see.”

-----

Grim

*I licked my lips and wrinkled my nose in disgusted satisfaction as I got out of the bed. The body next to me was nearly unrecognizable now. The night before, she had resembled the one I truly wanted, but not enough and I grew angry at her shortcomings. She didn’t smell right and, when I forced myself past the disgusting smell and licked along her neck, like I had craved to do, she tasted wrong.

I had beat her until she stopped whimpering and crying, something the real woman would never do. I threw her around the room until she couldn’t move anymore, then I laid her in the bed and slept beside her, hoping I would forget that she was the wrong one in my sleep. But, as the heat from her body cooled, I was again disappointed. The real one wouldn’t have given up so easily.

“Get rid of it,” I growled to the servant that stood shaking in the corner.

She was young, too young, but she also resembled the one I really wanted. Maybe, if she saw what I wanted, she might serve me better, so she was always to be here, seeing the nightly carnage my disappointment produced. She would know when it was her time.

She jumped to do as she was told, opening the door and motioning in someone else to carry the body from my presence. She was scared, which irritated me.

“The bed, too,” I sneered at the bright red blood stains that now stained the sheets.

I went to the bathroom and took a shower, the water running red, then pink, then clear as the previous night's violence was washed away. I needed her. The real one. And when I had her, the violence would end. She loved me and would be too grateful that I had saved her. She would make everything better. I just had to find her.

I dried off and walked into the bedroom, not caring that I had no clothes on.

“Come,” I said to the servant as I sat on a chair.

She did as she was told, though she was visibly shaking as she did. I pulled her down to sit on my lap as I held on to her. Out of all of the others, she had the closest resemblance, making it easier for me to believe that this was real.

The constant trembling angered me, though, and I growled as I grabbed a handful of her hair and bent her neck, so it was bare to me. I licked her rapid pulse and bit down enough to hurt but not draw blood. She would bleed before I was finished, but not there. That would be too much.

The taste was like as rancid as her scent, and I slammed her to the ground before my fist met her face over and over again. She would heal quickly enough, as I was going easy on her. After a while, I stopped hitting her and held her chin in my hand, keeping her still as I licked the bleeding lip, growling at the wrongness of it again.

“You know what to do,” I growled at her as I stood up.

She pushed herself to her knees, head down and hands in her lap.

“Forgive me my failures,” she said softly. Even her voice was wrong.*

Before I could make her regret her shortcomings even more, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

“What?” I snapped.

“We found her,” the worthless cur said through the wood. “We’re sure of it. She’s here. They all are.”

Finally. It was time to rescue her.


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