Chapter Text
His mind was at a chaos of worry and sorrow as he patrolled the village, his heart was heavy with concern for his youngest brother. Despite his best effort to focus on his duty of protecting the village, his thoughts were continuously drawn back to Wemmbu. The realization that his brother was missing a wing, a part of him that he could only assume was recent, perhaps only a month or three, was hard blow to his heart. HIs head throbbed with the weight of the situation, and disbelief had now washed over him. He could remember the joy on Wemmbu’s face the day his wings grew in, a memory that was now bittersweet and painful.
All of the brothers had risen for the day, except for Wemmbu. He laid in the nest, while his body was burning with a fever, a sight that only caused an ache in Parrot’s heart. With that, Parrot had decided to let him rest, hoping that the warmth of their nest would soothe him. Flame and Parrot had taken turns going up to check on Wemmbu, offering him words of comfort and making sure he had everything he needed. Meanwhile, the young demonic avian was upstairs, while the three brothers spent most of their day downstairs, their laughs filling the room as they shared silly stories and engaged in simple activities together.
Parrot was lost in the pages of a new book he had gotten recently. Flame thoroughly sharpened his sword and Spoke, with his heart full of love, was drawing a get well soon card for Wemmbu. He hoped that the card would bring a smile to his brother’s face, lifting his spirits and maybe even speeding up his recovery. The afternoon was peaceful, the sun was casting a beautiful golden glow, until a loud gut-wrenching scream that echoed through their shared room upstairs. It was Wemmbu. The brothers all exchanged terrified glances, their faces were full of worry. Flame’s grip tightened around his sword, fearing that an intruder had made their way into their home. While Parrot was taken over by a protective instinct, he dashed upstairs. His heart was racing, worried for his younger brother. He flung the door open, and the other two brothers followed closely, their eyes wide with fear. They found Wemmbu curled into a tight ball, his face twisted with pain. Flame’s tension eased slightly, relief now washing over him as he realized it wasn’t an intruder after all, but his concern still remained. Tears had sparkled on Wemmbu’s cheeks, each drop was a sign of his suffering. Parrot, with one look, quickly assessed the situation. Spoke and Flame, though still overly confused, trusted Parrot’s judgement and stepped aside, awaiting his instructions. The avian hybrid approached Wemmbu with tender care, “Shh.. it’s going to be okay, Starling. Your wings are just coming in. You’re going to feel a bit of pain, but I promise it’ll be over soon. Flame and Spoke, can you grab me healing potions and warm, damp towels, please?” With the urgency in his voice, the two boys hurried to gather what Parrot requested, leaving him and Wemmbu in a shell of comfort. Parrot gently brushed Wemmbu’s hair away from his sweaty forehead, his touch was a comfort to his brother’s distress. Wemmbu melted into his touch, a small smile appearing through his tears, making Parrot smile with relief.
After Wemmbu’s fever had finally eased, his appearance had changed. His once semi-ordinary appearance was now decorated with beautiful, dark, vibrant purple wings that perfectly completed his demonic features. Although his wings were still drenched in a layer of mucus, Parrot tenderly cleaned them, thoroughly arranging the feathers to ensure that their alignment was flawless. This gentle care brought immense joy to the young demonic avian, who was just happy that his wings had finally emerged. Over the next few days, Wemmbu’s condition had improved significantly. He could often be seen with Parrot, who always preened his wings for him, admiring his wings’ beauty with a sense of awe. They had become his pride and joy, a symbol of his unique breed. On that day, he made a vow to himself, promising that he would never let anything harm them.
Flame was suddenly jolted back to reality, his nostalgic journey through memory lane suddenly stopped by the clamor of voices and the obvious tension in the air. As he quickened his pace, he could see a mob of people circling around another group. He could see their expressions were mixed with anger and fear. The air was thick with suspicion, and Flame seemed to question if these newcomers might be hunters from a different village, which left him feeling uneasy. His duty as the guard on duty pushed him forward. He was determined to quell the brewing chaos and protect the citizens of the village.
As he made his way through the crowd, his mind began to race with questions. What could these hunters have possibly done to provoke such anger among the usually peaceful villagers? The anger was noticeable, and it was directed towards the hunters. “You guys are a disgrace to humankind. Who hunts hybrids for a living?” one villager shouted, his voice dripping with loathing.
Hybrid hunters? The words sent a chill straight down Flame’s spine, worsening his anxiety. He started to recall the stories Parrot had told him when he was younger, tales of hybrid hunters that he had dismissed as mere myths. The idea of people hunting hybrids was disgusting to him, especially since he and his siblings were hybrids themselves. The crowd’s anger was escalating, and they began to hurl objects at the hunters, their shouts of insults growing louder and more aggressive every second. The hunters, feeling trapped and threatened, tightened their grip on their weapons, their eyes looking around nervously.
Flame knew he had to intervene. His presence alone already commanded respect, and as he stepped forward, the hunters began to hesitate, their brave act faltering. He approached one of them, locking eyes with an unwavering determination that tolerated no defiance. The thought of these men harming other hybrids pissed him off. He was on the brink of violence, ready to end the hunter’s life right there and then, but he forced himself to hold back. The rules were clear, and he had a sworn to uphold them. “What do you guys do?” Flame demanded, his voice sounding like it was cutting through the noise like a knife. The hunters exchanged nervous glances, their silence deafening. Finally, one of them had decided to speak, his voice was trembling slightly. “Well, we hunt hybrids with big bounties. My buddy the other day caught a young avian— he seemed to be mixed with some kind of demon. I gotta say, he had some beautif—“ his words were abruptly cut off as a powerful hand struck him in the face, sending him straight to the ground. The crowd erupted in cheers, while the hunter laid there, pleading for someone to help. But no one dared to move, not when Flame’s anger was so noticeable, no one would be stopping him anytime soon.
Flame’s mind was consumed by a single, overwhelming thought. These people were the reason for his starlings missing wing, and that just fueled his rage. He lunged at the hunter, his fists flying with a violence that left no room for any mercy. Each punch was a sign of his agony, a desire to make the hunter suffer just as his youngest brother had. He was about to draw his sword, ready to deliver the final blow, when another guard finally intervened, pulling him away.
As he was dragged back, the hunter just laid there, a bloody mess, and Flame’s heart was still racing with anger. But amidst the chaos, a single, unwavering thought had emerged from his storm of emotions. He had to find a way to disband these so-called bounty hunters, and the only person who could help him was PrinceZam.