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Vex’ahlia had practiced. She had practiced and practiced. Long after the other Elven girls had rushed off to other tasks or lessons. She practiced until her feet felt so sore she thought she would limp when she walked. She practiced harder than anyone, so that when the time came to pick the dancers for the Highsummer ceremony, she would be among the other highborn girls chosen.
Vex had told her brother, Vax, to ‘grow up’ when he tried to get her to come and climb trees. When he tried to show her something wriggly he had found, or some new cave that he’d discovered. He simply didn’t understand. They were not just children; they were children of a very important father. They needed to behave themselves to truly fit in with the society of the other highborn children. He didn’t see. But Vex did.
If she was chosen among the others to perform at the ceremony, then all the others would see; the ones that whispered. The ones that pitied. The ones that sniffed that their ears weren’t as long or as defined. The ones that quietly snorted ‘half-breeds’ when they thought the children couldn’t hear (or when they knew they could).
If Vex’ahlia was just good enough, then she would be accepted.
She practiced harder, with more dedication, and if, all things have their rights, was far better than any of the other girls her age, with all their ‘pure’ elven blood. She was absolutely perfect. And, of course, in the end, that hadn’t mattered. She was a half-elven bastard daughter; there was no way that she would be placed among the ‘true born’, true elf daughters in such an important ceremony.
She had run. To a place that only she and her brother knew. A forgotten tower that required climbing and other physical pursuits the Elven children found beneath them. Vax found her there, still in the dancing costume, with only a half-hearted effort to remove the elaborate braids in her hair.
He frowned and, without revealing himself, went away and came back with two wicker cages. He came back into the room with them under his cloak. “Hey, Stubby,” he said quietly.
Vex looked up, by now, the tears had made a mess of her eyes, and the hair out of her braids stuck to reddened cheeks. It spoke volumes of her fatigue and sadness that she didn’t prickle under the ‘undignified’ name her brother gave her. “What under the sun are you carrying there?” she asked with a sniffle.
He pulled out the cages and put them down, and took two feathers from a pocket. One was an iridescent blue. A gorgeous, luxurious thing. The other one was a simple brown feather. “Listen,” he said. From the cages, there was an annoying, gravelly squawk, indignant and annoyed. But from the other, a soft, sweet, beautiful sound, as lovely as any sunrise. “Which song goes with which feather?”
Vex rolled her eyes. “Obviously, the beautiful songbird,” she said, taking the blue feather in her hand delicately.
Vax chuckled, and opened one of the cages. The squawking bird, with it’s beautiful, iridescent blue feathers, puffed up and let out the most indignant, angry, discordant noise, before flying around the room and out the window.
“The feathers may be pretty, but they’re annoying little shits,” Vax said. Meanwhile, from the other cage, the soft, sweet sound continued.
He handed her the other cage. Vex opened it and a small bird with dappled brown feathers hopped out and on to her hand. It stayed there happily singing. And from the nearby trees, other birds joined the lovely song. A smile returned to Vex’ahlia’s lips. She put the bird down on the window ledge.
Taking both feathers, she pulled a thread from Vax’s cloak and wrapped the quills of both, braiding them into her hair, behind her ear. “Come on, Scrawny. I’ll race you to the woods. “