Work Text:
The wind picked up as the bird flew through the air, cutting through the clouds. It soars and flies and lives without fear. Its light blue wings flap freely as it dives down, picking itself back up into the air just as it reaches the top of the trees below. The land, oh, the beautiful land, is as peaceful as the bird has ever seen it.
The bird lands smoothly, ruffling its own feathers and picking out loose feathers that are close to falling out. It laughs and giggles and thrives as it builds a home of its own. It sees other animals, other beings that live just as it does. Wild sheep, deer, rabbits, many other creatures that truly enjoy just being alive.
Along the ground, the bird picks up sticks and rocks, marking its territory with a smile. The leaves start to turn yellow and orange and brown, and the bird chortles as it tears bright leaves and mends them together. It wears its creation that it's so proud of on its head for everyone to see.
The bird is happy. The bird is happy now that it has things of its own. The bird laughs more and caws out to the land, yelling. “I am king! I am king,” the bird yells out, “I am king of my kingdom!”
Later on, far into the future, when the bird is tired and can no longer fly, the bird is quiet. The wind no longer blows and the dark cage it finds itself in is cramped and uncomfortable.
The bird, as unique as it used to be, sits on the floor of the cage. The bird says to itself. “I am king, I am king..” it weeps to the empty space, “I am king of no kingdom.”
When the stench of fungus comes back, the bird weeps again. “I am king of nothing.”