Chapter Text
These days, moments of being truly wide awake came few and far between with her plate being full of unfinished papers, dissertations, star charts, star logs, and the likes.
She missed the crisp frigid air ghosting over her skin, the soft touch of the clouds, and the ethereal moon and stars in close proximity where normal man can’t even hope to reach. Oh how Layla wished to just drop all items in her schedule and simply let her wings free–let some joints loose and some air between her feathers (which also needed preening). But alas–her wings were not something that she could simply let free when she felt like it; especially with the entire fiasco regarding the former Grand Sage’s collaboration with the Fatui and rumors of said evil organization attempting to contact the exiled sages.
No–Layla will not risk her safety if the Fatui was still within the Land of Wisdom. She knows what they’ve done and she refuses to be subjected into inhumane experiments that would explore her avian anatomy.
“Be careful, Layla. There are times people might become too curious. Only show your wings to people who you really trust.”
This was what her parents would always say to her when she was a child. Due to her non-human nature, her parents would always remind her to be safe and have taken every precaution to do so–scared to lose their lovely child. Her parents feared that Amurta scholars would try to play god, feared that Eremites would sell her to a black market, feared that the Fatui would take her to the North. They could only pray and hope that the protection they have provided was enough until Layla can stand with her own two feet.
Layla’s early years as a child were difficult. She already had trouble befriending kids her age in the first place, then when the first signs of a pair of lumps was suddenly growing from her scapula–her social skills just went south right after. And when those cartilaginous lumps turned into hard bones piercing her skin from the inside… She felt like her soul was taken out of her body back then.
Her memories after the first sprouting were hazy, as if trying to find her way through a dense fog. She barely remembered the specifics because everything was overshadowed by the excruciating pain of bone piercing flesh from the inside. It was horrible. About a week after (or maybe more–she couldn’t remember), she became lucid enough to register that she had grown a pair of beautiful iridescent blue wings–just the same color as her hair. As the lapis color traversed to the tips of her wings, lapis becomes indigo, eventually losing its saturation into a color of the night sky at its darkest hour. The underside of her wings possessed the same gradients, but with the colors being lighter.
Her parents didn’t know what to do, but they did their best to understand what her life would mean with a pair of wings. Layla remembered her mother discussing if her father had an avian lineage along with his elvish blood. They dug up their aged scrolls of family trees and journals, and no–neither side had such secrets. Her parents then took their time to search for tomes from the House of Daena for any research or history about their predicament. Again–nothing on record.
This was a secret that belonged only to their little family of three.
“Little Starlight, put on your cloak. It’s time for us to go watch the birds.”
Layla’s parents would always bring her with them to go birdwatching during the evening, when risks of being discovered were low. Despite the danger of being found still present, this became her favorite pastime with her family. She watched the nocturnal birds to learn and understand her own avian nature: how to preen, how to catch the air to fly, to glide, to dive–the realization that she could fly suddenly poured down on her like rapid rain during her first birdwatch; she could not physically contain her excitement at that time. After all, why deny a bird its freedom when it has wings for that very purpose? One should not cage a bird and refuse it its nature for flight.
And learning was what Layla did the following months.
“Layla, dear, as much I support you on learning how to fly with some minor injuries being inevitable; please dear, I don’t want to see you in my clinic one more time. I don’t think my heart can take it.”
Layla’s mother, previously Amurta scholar now a doctor, would often joke about how she might get cardiac arrest whenever she ends up with too many wounds, or worse, dislocated joints. Layla knew her mother jests, and Layla also knew that she’s doing her best to avoid getting hurt but she just did not expect that learning how to fly would be so difficult!
“Hmm… if we can find out what species you are, and watch that species teach their young how to fly–it could give us some pointers. The problem is, we still don’t know what species your wings belong to, my starlight.”
Layla’s father, an elf and a humble merchant, often mused as to what the species of her avian side was. He’s already deduced that his daughter does not belong to the side of predatory birds. Her wings were short and round, giving him an idea that Layla may be from the side of small birds. Her wings were mostly a plain blue, with no visible patterns or markings to specify a species. Unfortunately, these musings only stopped there as Layla’s father was no expert in the field of zoology. His vast knowledge was only limited to the trade, but that did not deter him no–he made it his goal to purchase any tomes regarding birds.
During the day, her parents would always find their daughter’s nose buried in these books; her determination deeply rooted between the furrow in her brows. Then when the night comes, she would take down notes on her handy notebook filled with drawings and diagrams and observations about the nocturnal birds she sees in their birdwatch. Once satisfied with her notetaking, she’d drag her parents to help in her practice for flight. It was all so endearing to find their baby girl persevere despite the unknowns of her avian side.
Eventually, the night finally came when Layla undeniably flew after a leap of faith being rewarded. Oh how she could still remember that night with all the vivid memories and specifics. She remembered the rush of cold wind enveloping her and her feathers. The hard swift beats of her wings to gain altitude. The rapid shrinking of the world below her as she flew higher and higher. Layla remembered the feeling of true freedom–no thoughts, head empty. Just that pure feeling of naivety, bliss, and ignorance.
And when faced with the shine of a thousand gazes from the heavens, moon, and stars…
She was in this state of mind-numbing silent eureka–a catharsis–as she stayed simply suspended under the vast evening sky of her namesake.
Layla was always interested in the celestial bodies above them. But to see this divine sight closer and clearer? She kept this memory close to her heart.
When the last traces of quiet bliss wore down, they were replaced by childish joy and excitement. Layla flew around some more above Avidya Forest, relishing in the fact that what she has was special–that she is special. To be able to fly and touch the celestials that no man could ever do–that only her alone–
Sadness immediately washed away the previous rush of joy and excitement. The young Layla, a child of solitude unwanted, realized that this will further form an invisible wall between her and her peers. Not just her peers. More like–between her and the rest of humanity; making her even more isolated than ever. She was already shy and introverted to start with, so that’s one nail driving the wall further into the metaphorical earth. It's already established that she couldn’t tell anyone that she was a half-blood, so that’s the second nail separating her from everyone. In the event that she does tell someone, and will actually genuinely keep her secret, and Layla relays her stories to those would-be friends… In the end none of them could actually relate to her because only she can experience what she can experience.
The skies and the clouds and stars and the moon–all readily available to her should she wish to fly.
This was the third nail driven into this unseeable wall, making it even more sturdy and more difficult to remove. An enduring wedge between her and society.
So, imagine her surprise when she saw a preening (!) Acting Grand Sage of the Akademiya sitting atop the tallest mountain of the Ashavan Realm with a pair of large wings, black as the night sky, resting on his back.
And imagine Alhaitham’s surprise that someone managed to sneak up on him despite his enhanced hearing. He was about to swiftly fold his wings onto his back and will them to disappear (and to explain that the wings were just a prototype glider–a foolish excuse–he knows), but the lady before him immediately showed her wings with her eyes wide open–a tinge of desperation showing itself through those golden orbs. A desperation for the truth that she was not alone in this secret that she’s hidden all her life.
The two half-birds did not know what to do in this situation for three separate reasons: the first reason applied for the both of them, neither knew that another like them–a halfling–existed. The second reason being Layla’s lack of social skills and third, Alhaitham’s sheer cluelessness on what to do, which was rare. But there was this amusement hidden in his mind about how the lady was struggling to wrap the situation into her head and find the right words to say.
“I c-can help you preen your feathers!”
The moment those words left her mouth, the color red just straight out flushed through her cheeks to her ears and Alhaitham knew why. For birds, preening was a form of bonding between family members or romantic partners. In a more humane context, it’s like offering a bath and scrubbing his back when they barely knew each other. The point is–you allow someone to preen you if you trust that person. The man released an amused huff.
“Your peers often describe you as shy and introverted, but it seems like you can be bold at times.”
Layla couldn’t help it! The first thing she registered when she saw him were his wings and him preening said wings! And by the looks of it, the feathers at the base of those wings were in need of preening because many of them were a bit out of place. Layla couldn’t blame him though. She knew through experience that preening the basal feathers usually requires some help as these feathers were hard to reach given their location.
“A-Apologies, Acting Grand-“
“Just Alhaitham is fine. I won’t be Acting Grand Sage for so long.”
Layla tilted her head at the revelation. Strange… Every scholar coveted the position with a passion, but to see this man seemingly excited to throw the title away was… something.
“Uh–alright… Apologies again. I was a bit too… forward. But seriously… your feathers at the base could use some fixing though.”
The man ran an inspecting gaze throughout her form. What he’s trying to find in her, Layla has no idea. All she could think of was about her hopes that he doesn’t see her as some strange lunatic offering to scrub his back out of the blue. Thinking about it… this was the first time they’ve officially met… and her hopes for leaving a good first impression was quickly going down the drain.
On the other hand, Alhaitham’s mind was running through his options or a lack there-of. Logically, he should accept her offer because it has actually been quite a long time since his base feathers were preened. Rejecting her offer would mean more dreadful nights of aggravating itches. He was already annoyed by his roommate’s hammering during the ungodly hours of the night–Alhaitham did not want to add these itches into his list of nightly annoyances.
With a shrug, Alhaitham finalized his decision. He grabbed the bottle of oil just waiting by his side and offered it to Layla.
“It’s considered rude to reject an offer,” he stated with an outstretched arm and the bottle in hand, “I hope you find my feathers not too troublesome to work with. It’s been a long time since they were preened properly.”
Layla released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. For some unknown reason, she felt relief at his acceptance. It felt like the beginnings of a strange yet hopeful bond where she didn’t feel so lonely anymore after years of emotional separation unnoticed by her peers. A bond where she could finally share her avian self.
But there was also this tension in the air–as if one wrong move and everything will immediately go wrong. Layla surmised that it’s because there’s a thousand questions to be asked between the two of them. Questions that would most probably make them stay here for a few days and nights should they decide to let the floodgates of questions open.
The lady settled down behind the man, making herself comfortable in preparation for the long minutes of preening. Layla observed him–all relaxed and calm despite her being in his blindspot. Did he trust her that much already? Again, all she could feel was the aforementioned tension and there was also some sort of wariness emanating from him. Was he worried that she might hurt him? Was he surprised at the fact that he’s not the only half-half here? Layla didn’t want to lose the only chance she has (a chance for what–she doesn’t know), so she quickly decided that some small talk would be nice to diffuse the uneasiness (or maybe she’s just overthinking things). After settling on a course of action, she took the bottle of oil.
Curious, she took a whiff. She guessed that this might make for a good conversation starter.
“Sand grease pupa?” She asked as she dipped her fingers into the bottle.
“Correct.” (Layla cheered inwardly!) “I’m surprised you figured it out since the pupa’s only local to the desert. Do you use pupa too?”
Despite Alhaitham unable to see her now, Layla shook her head as she spread the oil on the rough feathers of his right wing while tentatively aligning said feathers. “No, I don’t. I use nilotpala seeds. It took a lot of trial and errors for me to make my own preening oil, but I find them efficient in terms of oil yield. The smell is pleasant too, so that’s a bonus.”
“You harvest the seeds from the flowers?” Alhaitham asked with a levelled curiosity. “Seems like a hassle–wading through water and all.”
The elf behind him chuckled as her hands traversed the expanse of his basal feathers, stopping momentarily to gently massage any pin feathers out of their dry sheaths and carefully avoiding the vascular ones.
“I think… going to the desert for pupas is more of a hassle than getting wet...”
Out of nowhere, Layla shuddered with goosebumps awakening throughout her person.
“Just the thought of sand between my feathers is enough to make me physically cringe… Please don’t tell me you fly to the desert…”
The man’s lips pulled up in a small smile, finding amusement in her despair. He felt that shudder; how can a person shudder so hard on just pure imagination?
“Yes, I do fly to the desert. Through sandstorms sometimes.”
Layla groaned, shuddering again.
A comfortable silence draped over the two, the previous tension washing away knowing that this secret they have was safe–and by extension making them safe.
Layla continued preening, massaging, and cleaning more of Alhaitham’s feathers on his right wing before proceeding to the left. The moon was still rising, along with a multitude of stars gracing them with their company. The cold winds were blowing lightly, making an ideal situation for a gentle glide above the forests. This was her initial plan when Layla visited the mountain top, but of course, that plan was thrown aside by the surprise given to her in the form of another half-half.
The thought of flight made her wonder. How does the Acting Gr- err… How does Alhaitham take flight?
She made a quick gross examination of his wings. His wings have the color of a black void with no patterns or markings to adorn them. However, against the shine of the moon, a dark sacramento green appeared at the edges of his feathers in a gradient. His wings were hanging limply from his back, so she couldn’t exactly tell the shape and length of his wings, but she can deduce that this man’s avian side belongs to predatory birds, equipped for prolonged flight.
“By any chance…” Layla quietly voiced, gaining his attention from his book, “Do you know what species your other half is?”
“Black vultures,” was his immediate response with eyes returning to his read, “You?”
“A blue nightingale.”
A nightingale. No wonder her voice sounds… nice, Alhaitham thought to himself hesitantly. And no wonder he’s starting to feel a bit drowsy. The gentle caress of her hands on his feathers combined with her gentle lulling voice and the lovely weather–they’re all grounds for a decent nap honestly. However, this opportunity for sleep was now gone because soon enough, Layla’s hands left his feathers with a silent ‘Done,’ and now she was looking at him with a face of hesitancy and worry and curiosity.
Right. The imminent metaphorical floodgates of questions regarding their situation.
Alhaitham did the honors of holding the lever for the gates.
“Do you wish for us to talk now about the situation we are in?”
As usual, straight to the point. No beating around the bush. Despite the yawn emerging from Layla, she still replied affirmative. The yawn almost made Alhaitham postpone this talk, but the sleepy determination in her eyes told him otherwise. So they talked; with wings dismissed, both sitting across each other with a respectable distance between; the moon, stars, flowers, grass, and the wind being their witness of this exchange.
They asked and answered the basics: When did their wings start sprouting? Did they have any avian lineages? How did they hide? What were their reasons for hiding? How did they learn how to fly? To preen? How did they know their specie?
And the most important question of them all: Do they know anyone else who was also a half-half? Were they the only ones? Were they the only ones together in this secret of being a half-half?
All of these questions, Layla answered honestly. Her wings started sprouting when she was 6, and fully emerged around a week after. None of her parents’ family trees indicate any records of a half-half. She used to hide her wings by using a cloak and mostly staying indoors during the day, but when she figured out how to make her wings disappear and summon them at will again, Layla had an easier time hiding them. Additionally, she avoided wearing her Akasha terminal whenever she let her wings out. Her parents feared that she might be taken, sold, and experimented on, hence the precautions. She learned to fly by birdwatching and reading books. She learned to preen herself by again, birdwatching. And finally, she learned her specie through the discovery of her own constellation upon receiving her Vision, the Luscinia.
All of these questions, Alhaitham answered curtly. His wings started sprouting when he was 8, and fully emerged around a week later. According to his late grandmother, none of his parents’ lineage has anything about his situation (lie). He mostly stayed indoors and the gardens of his parents’ home were lined with high walls, so there was no reason for him to hide his wings. Whenever he goes out, his grandmother wanted him to hide his wings for safety reasons. Reasons he did not share, but he heeded his grandmother’s worries nonetheless. If anything, Alhaitham mainly hid his wings because he has no reason to show them and he didn’t want to be bothered by the curious. He learned how to fly and preen through instinct. And finally, he learned his specie by reading tomes of avian anatomy.
For the last question, while there was no conclusive evidence, both Layla and Alhaitham agreed that, for now, they were the only ones with this kind of secret within the Land of Wisdom–both forest and desert.
All that mattered next was how the two of them would proceed.
For Alhaitham, it’s simple. Keep their secret safe and establish a form of contact if ever one of them gets in trouble. He’s aware that the Fatui was trying to contact the exiled sages for whatever plans they have in their sleeves, therefore abduction is possible should they discover their hidden natures. While Alhaitham knew he could defend himself, he had doubts for Layla. Sure, he’s never seen her fight and she has a Vision, so he couldn’t say for sure her true combat prowess, but… she looked like a measly gust of wind could topple her at any moment. How could she fly with that kind of physical health? He’s heard of the Sleepwalking Eccentric numerous times. Bbut now that he’s seeing her in person. Yeah… Alhaitham has doubts if she could defend herself against the Fatui…
He thought about it for a moment and concluded that it wouldn’t hurt to ensure the safety of someone else like him. As unusual as it sounds, Alhaitham wasn’t emotionless. When the man saw her summon her wings out of the blue, he felt surprise followed by relief.
Relief.
Afterwards, he felt this uncertainty if he was seeing things right–because there was someone like him? A winged halfling? Behold, his emotional constipation within a minute after meeting Layla.
But the relief? That was undeniable. It was reassurance he never asked nor sought but he was taking it.
“Always remember that being different is a gift.”
These were the words of his late grandmother and of course, he kept them close to his heart. He never minded that he was different amongst his peers. In fact, he relished in the fact that he was different. However, after this revelation in the form of a blue nightingale, there was this weight suddenly lifted from his shoulders. Alhaitham didn’t even know about this weight holding him down this entire time. When that weight was lifted, he only realised then how lonely he actually was because no one knew what he was truly experiencing as a halfling.
He relished and listened to Layla’s brief stories of her experiences from their exchange. He listened to her words and compared them to his. He listened to her words and kept them in his memories.
Maybe, not being different was okay once in a while.
When Alhaitham shared his plans of establishing contact in case of an emergency, Layla agreed right away while in the middle of stifling a yawn. They exchanged ideas here and there and managed to finalize a form of contact within a few minutes of brainstorming. They also agreed that they could meet here in the same spot at the same time at the same day of the week to unearth the secrets behind their blood. After their agreements of schedules and whatnot–another yawn escaped from the sleepwalker.
“You could use some sleep.” Alhaitham commented as he watched Layla observe the stars above.
“I will… after I fly a bit. I miss it very much.”
At that statement, the elf stood up and removed any dust from her clothes. Alhaitham stayed silent but a brow was raised. Layla saw this and simply gave him a sheepish smile as she summoned her lapis wings. A sight to behold.
As the elf stretched in preparation for flight, Alhaitham took the opportunity to observe her wings. To say the least, her wings were really beautiful with their calming blue pigmentation. Blue as the evening sky, with the occasional shimmer like the stars when faced with the moonlight. But the continuous shimmer stopped every now and then by a feather out of place, and somehow, the sight felt wrong. It was wrong. A definite fact. But Alhaitham couldn’t identify why it felt wrong.
“Can I preen your feathers?”
Another surprise that caught the both of them off guard for the night. They just won’t stop coming don’t they? No, because again–much to Alhaitham’s further surprise–Layla accepted his offer in a gentle voice.
“I… hope you don’t mind. Thank you for offering.”
He nodded. A polite gesture he didn’t have to do but was doing nonetheless.
“Don’t mention it. Think of it as thanks from a while ago.”