Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

To the one who understands.

If you’re reading this, thank you for your support, and please enjoy!

Chapter Text

I’ll put it simply.

This is a story of my life.

And how I ruined it.

But mostly about people. And how hard they try to suffer.

How it’s all for nothing.

Chapter Text

My body feels light. I see myself sitting in a kitchen. The table worn and rustic, flowers etched into it. I lay my sunburnt hand on the other in my lap, I see him, sitting across from me.

Once I’d said, I wish I never let you know me. He said it was a cruel thing to say. I said he knew what I meant. He said how sometimes he wished I couldn’t speak. So that I’d stop hurting him. Saying that words are also a violence. I just told him that I knew he wished he never knew me either.

He said, I wish you were dead.

I said that it would let me get away from you.

We were both quiet that day.

He taps his fingers on the table softly. Looking at me, “You can put your strength down, you know.” My fists are tightly bound on my lap. It feels as if I let go now, that everything I’ve ever held onto will fall out of my hands and shatter. That I won’t be able to find it ever again. That I’ll fall apart on myself and not be able to pick up my pieces.

I’ll yell and I’ll let you rip down every wall I have only to build them around you instead.

I tell you I want to make you hate me and you say you don’t know how.

I rip pits out of fruits with my teeth, staining my skin with the sweetness.

I’ll bleed onto floors freshly mopped, coming home only to shut the door so hard the house shivers and hides.

But I am sorry. About the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine.

Instead, I lay my hands on the table.
I let go. Staining the wood with my blood.

My forearms dripping with it. Steeped in crimson like a teabag, ridden like a prune after you take a bath, every crack and line apparent and spreading. The sun shines through the flowing white curtains. The room is aromatic with the smell of iron and a stiffness found in the small distance between us. He doesn't look at my hands, keeping his gaze on mine. He looks so young as he closes his eyes. Birds chirp outside.

I still remember this.
I can still smell you on your shirt you gave to me last august. “Here,” He puts something in my hands as he stares at me. “Take it,”

He closes my hand onto it gently before I get a chance to see. “What is it?”

“It’s my heart,” he says. “Will you hold it for me?”

I don't open it. I feel its beat. “I’ll hold it for you.”

Alzir looks at my hands. “Tightly,”

I look down at my closed hands, and then I look at him. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m scared,” I whisper, trying to get my words out. “I’m scared I’ll break it.”

He blinks. “Don’t be scared.” he raises his now crimson hands from mine to my face, and holds me. “Promise me, promise me you’ll hold it for me.”

“How long do you want me to?” And there it goes. The dam breaks, and it all comes flowing out as I begin to cry. Like an idiot, I met him halfway.

“So, so long.” He smiles, but his eyes are glossy.

My heart beats faster. The edges around his silhouette become blurry. “But, how will I know when to give it back to you?”

“When I need it the most.”

I hold my hands closer to his chest. Imagining it. My mother asked me a question when I was young.

Is it an intimacy or a violence?
At what point can you not distinguish one from the other?

Is there an answer? My head could only conjure up this one question, out of everything.
And she would say that the answer can’t be found, told, researched, or passed on.

Only through experience.

So I decide to ask, “Why can’t you keep it?”

His eyelashes veil those lilac irises, and his light hair falls near his shoulders. There is a long silence between us. And it seemed to stretch out for miles. He finally speaks, “It’ll break.”

The thought hurts. “I-”

“But,” He pauses. Exhaling shakily from tears falling from the side of his cheeks. “Don’t let me break my own heart. That’s your job.” He tries to joke with me, but he's crying in a way which makes me only weep more. Laughing, but not being able to properly. A muffled one with small escapes of breaths in the sobbing. Your body begins to fight against your mind, trying to make you smile and make you laugh to make your words less piercing, trying to make it so you hurt the other a little less with your own pain. Even when you never mean to. In simple words: your body tries to prepare the other for grief.

My weeping only grows. “I can’t. I can’t.”

He holds my face, and through blurry eyes I can see clearly now how our blood flows from his hands down his arms. Dripping slowly onto the wooden floors.

I try so hard.

I tried so hard to not stain. Everyone I meet I just scorch. His grip tightens. “Promise me. Swear it.”

I take my other hand and hold his, pressing it against my cheek. Hold me close, don’t let go. Bruise me so I have proof you were here. Bruise me so I never forget this moment. I’ll forgive it, always. Scars remind us of pain. There is nothing to remind us of this. “If I do, I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

“You don’t have to.” he lets go. “You just have to do this.”

“Don’t. Please,” I whisper, shakily.

He brings his hand to my eye, and gently wipes the tear away from my skin. “It really is in our genes to hurt.”

I look down at my hands. Those hands of mine that somehow can pain anything they touch. They turn into birds and fly away from me, holding that heart.

I watch as they leave, through those curtains and that sun-stained window.

I miss him and I, even when it’s still him and I.

Chapter Text

My head spins and everything fades away.

A tightness in my chest, feeling as though I was underwater. I jolt up, knocking my head on something, and I hold the top of my head as I look to see. “What the..?-”

A branch. Since I’ve been sleeping on.. A tree. With the sudden thud, a butterfly flies off of my nose.

It’s always that dream. I have it so often. So often, that I have memorized each word he says to me. Each time I try to say something different, do something different, try to make it change.

It always ends the same. It always loops back to the same outcome. The only thing that does change is the pain after. That tightness in my heart, a gasp escaping from my throat. It got a little better. I don’t wake up crying anymore.

The sun is setting as the willow trees drooping leaves let light onto my face. I take a dagger out of my pocket and carve into the tree. The sound of someone's steps, turning my head to see, he smiles. He hooks Xia, my spear, taking the form of a scythe like weapon, onto the branch. He swings up to one right next to me.

Spinning it behind his back, he hands it to me. “You forgot this.”

I take it, laying it down on the bark beside me as it changed its form into a spear as it met my hold. “Thank you.”

He continues to smile softly as he leans a little closer, looking at what I’m etching. He blinked and his smile slightly grew wider. “Is that me?”

“Yeah.” I spin the dagger in my hand as I lay back. Does he like it? I find myself picking at my hands as I wait. His eyes linger on the etch, looking over each line carefully.

He examines it for a moment, dragging his hand gently on the dark red bark. “What’s this?” His hand stops.

I look from the side of my gaze. “It’s a.. Crown.”

“I see,” he tilts his head. “Of flowers.”

“Flowers suit you more than gold and jewels, Alzir.” I laugh.

Alzir seems proud of this, “Really?” Birds sing in the background.

“Everything suits you,” I sigh, exasperated at my recent efforts. I can’t help but lay back, letting my arms fall from the sides of the wide branch. A butterfly lands in his hair. The air around him smells like daffodil tea. I close my eyes and let the clouds pass over me as time pushes them along. He rests his head on the bark next to the portrait, sitting down he lets his feet fall from the sides and the wind carries his loose fabrics in gentle hands.

We stay in silence for a moment, and his voice chimes. “Oh- Did I tell you? I’ve got a new song,” he pauses. “Well- I wrote a new song!-”

“Sure, let me hear.” I wave my hand.

He blinks. And then smiles as he closes his eyes, and now begins to sing. Throughout, he explains with hand gestures why something is there, or what it means. Really getting into it, clearly showing his passion. I can tell because his brows start to furrow in focus. He always says they don’t, though.

I listen, I watch. Songs in Zyros are beautiful. Alzirs voice has sung so many songs before to me. They have no language except notes. I think that’s why they’re so beautiful. Words hide lies, hurt people, kill them.

He sings-

I don’t know. Beautifully would be an understatement.

He sings like he himself is a song, I guess. As he finishes he sighs, opening his eyes and looking at me to find I share his gaze. “What do you think?”

It's- “I like it.”

He lays back on the branch next to mine the same way I am, letting his arm hang, he touches the feathers of my wings ever so slightly. I close my eyes as he speaks. “I don’t have a name for it yet.” Alzir pulls his hand back and lays it on his stomach, open as his white linen blouse fell by his sides slightly at his waist.

“Zephyr.” I speak without thinking, and I look at him from the side of my sight. He’s looking at me too.

“Zephyr?” He smiles crookedly.

I look off, “A gentle wind. That's.. That's what it means.”

He claps his hands together and closes his eyes. “Like the Goddess?” Opening them, he points at me.

I pause.

Thinking about it for a moment, it’s true. Zephyr is a Goddess’ name. She founded the Kingdom of Xiyan, its own nation farther in the north than Zyros, where we are now. Zyros has
Elves as its predominant people.

Example: Alzir.

Example 2: My mom.

Example 3: Half of me.

For example, Yi, the God of nature, had established Zyros as its nation during the Old War. He was definitely something. A bastard, in my opinion. But don’t ask me. Us winged know nothing here apparently. Yi was like an elf, I guess. He had long, long hair like golden silk, and wore white, with eyes of pure, icy, jade green.

And of course, a bastard will take.

So he took Zephyr’s heart, and she let him. You have to understand this: Zephyr was different. She was too kind for her own good. She would do anything to protect us, protect the land, love us, and never see herself as something separate from us. There were very few like her.

But then there was Rayer. Goddess of Magic, protector of Velaria, the land of the fayes over the sea. Sister of Yi. But she was heartbroken. Heartbroken, and she sacrificed herself into the land she protected. This in turn ensured their safety, but cost her both her divinity and life.

But Zephyr had to stop the corrupted use of the Old Tree, a magical tree connecting the lands to the upper court, and in turn to the magic which thrives through our roots, for the resurrection of Gods. One lies in every nations border, to connect them to the heavens and to their gods, and some even shared it.

Some like Xiyan and Zyros.

But she refused.

To allow Yi to use their shared tree to bring back his sister. But he couldn’t accept that. So he struck Zephyr down.

Now Xiyan is completely shut out from the rest of the world. Because with her death, Xiyan’s people had permanently set The Dark around its border. As Yi tried to use the tree, he corrupted the roots around it for a moment, and it embedded itself around Xiyan’s borders. A deadly fog encasing its sharp thorned forest. Barren, dead, and impossible to navigate. Sometimes, they say broken and lost souls of the winged will rest there, trapped themselves instead of being able to leave peacefully. So whenever someone enters it, they can’t help but be tormented and the very outlet of all that pain, all that grief. The air thick with fog, and stale with regret and sorrow. Nobody can get in, nobody can get out. Nobody, even me, who misses the life he’s never had, with the people who know him better than himself and he knows nothing of, people that could tell him something of his past, tell him who he's supposed to be, what he's supposed to be doing, tell him that he isn’t alone, but he can’t. I can’t.

The sun is almost completely gone now and yet he is still sitting there.

Moments pass, “Alzir?” I mutter.

A hum, “Yes?”

I look over. “How did you even know I was here?”

Pause.

Realization. I look at the butterfly not leaving his hair. It flies around him and off as he laughs at my face. “Sorry, sorry- I know. I know you-- Wanted to be alone. But I really wanted to see you. To make sure that you’re safe.”

I watch how his lips move with each syllable. Each vowel. How his jewelry flows in the wind. “It’s nothing. You’re an exception, afterall." I smile, shrugging.

Alzir tilts his head as he gets up, slowly standing up straight he’d stretch his arms as he extended a hand at me and pointed at me. “Nikan!”

“Yeah?”

“Are you hungry?”

I wasn’t, but sharing a meal is the quickest way to easing the heart. “Sure.”

He’d smile as he’d pick an orange off the tree, reaching his hand towards me again, open palmed. I take the dagger off my hip and carefully place the handle on his smooth skin as he takes it. Sitting down next to me now, he’d slowly peel it. I watched him as he split it in two and gave one half to me. I bite into it as the air becomes humid in the night.

“Sit up,” Alzir chimes. I sit up, and he now sits right behind me. He takes my dark blue hair into his olive skin, carefully separating a small section into 3 parts. Braiding it as his hands dance along. “You are very quiet sometimes.” Alzir's singy-songy tone stretched out the word.

“I’m sorry.”

He seemed to pause for a moment, and then continued braiding. “No need for apologies.”

I hold my golden mask in my hands. “Do you not like it?”

“Not like what?”

“The quiet.”

Alzir continues to braid, “It leaves a lot of room for interpretation. Whether it’s good or bad, you can’t know.”

I touch the amber crystal on my necklace slightly. Tightening my clutch on it, “Some things are better left unsaid.”

Birds chirp, and all I feel is too much all at once. “I guess you’re right.” He let go of my already shorter hair, the small braid near the nape of my neck. I touch the ribbon he’d tied it with. A light peach colour. I turn to look at him only to find him smiling anticipatedly. His hair is let down and down his back as loose strands fly into his face.

The butterfly lands on my nose again. Fluttering its wings against my skin. I close my eyes trying to not flinch at the tickling touch. He laughs and he laughs until he falls back. I quickly look over to see.

My eyes widen, I reach out but I grab thin air. He was nowhere to be seen. I turn back, and I find him sitting leisurely where I once was sitting. Biting over the same spot I had into the orange. He watches me as he does.

He’s right in front of me now, and is looking at me intently. I try to tilt my head so he won’t see the pink on my cheeks. “Stupid..” I look off.

Alzir tilts his head as he smiles at the name. Reaching out to grab me. I dodge swiftly and his eyes widen as he falls off the branch. I hear a thud as I look over only to see him lying on the ground.

His face unamused as he raised a brow. The outline of his body in the long grass. “You up there! Crow!”

“Yes?~” I lean back as I cross my arms, closing my eyes.

“You dare to push me off?!” He points up at me, finally getting up.

I put a finger to my chin, thinking. “I didn’t push you off.” I look down with a smile. “You threw yourself off."

“Huh?!” Alzir takes a step as he laughs annoyedly, but abruptly stops. His brows furrow, and a sharp inhale, a wince, as he looks down at the grass.

My eyes narrow as I see him now holding his ankle. I hop down and come to his side as I get on a knee and look at it. Turning to him, “What happened?”

“It just…” he pauses. And I realize as I turn to him quickly, “I got you!”

With an oof, I fall down onto the grass, finding him laying on top of me with all his weight. He’s honestly not so heavy, so I didn’t care that much. “Foul play!”

He raises his head slightly as he smiles. “I still win.” I watch his eyes as he thinks. “This means I get to have a wish.”

“What is it?” I ask, still under him.

“The lantern festival-“

“No.” His smile dropped instantly.

Alzir repeats, more bluntly. “It’s my wish.”

I sigh, “No..”

“Yes!”

“I won’t.”

“You will!”

“I won’t!” I realize that we are being very loud. The crack of a branch.

“You-!” I place my hand on his mouth. His eyes widen as he grumbles trying to take it off. I look around and he stops, looking where my gaze is. Lanterns begin to come over the hill as villagers speak to each other in the lit up path. I wrap my wings around him, the small space forcing his stomach to press against mine. The black feathers disappearing in the night. He keeps his cheek on my chest as I take off my hand.

In the silence, we hear them stop.

“I thought I heard something…” The unfamiliar voice, slurred of a man mumbles.

A woman snickered, “It’s nothing. You’ve just drunk too much.”

“I have not!”

Eventually, a few minutes passed of them loitering around, opposite of the tree as to where we were. I find myself holding my breath. As the voices fade, so do the footsteps.

"Release!" Alzir whispers. I let go of him and he rolls off of me. Laying next to me.

“Sorry.” I say.

“It’s cool,” I meet his gaze and our bodies are a few inches apart. I turn, facing him as my side rested on the grass, and my cheek laid on the back of my palm. He matches me.

I watch how the slight light from the moon colours his irises. Yes. He looks just like them. His fathers eyes, his mothers nose at which is straight and steady, yet his complexion is ivory and without any imperfections. Like a smooth porcelain doll.

Bitterness crawls under my skin and bubbles in my throat. I wish he didn’t look so much like his parents.

I wish that his last name wasn’t stained.

My mother was kind. A rare thing now.

And his father, the King. Killed her. And killed me, in turn.

I get up, brushing dust off my robes. Alzir follows next to me, matching my step. “Nikan.”

“Hm?”

“Take me somewhere.” He says. Determination in his look.

I look over. “Where?

“The lantern-”

“No!"

He pushes against me a little as we walk. “Why not?”

“You know why.” I mutter.

“I don’t,” He rolls his eyes. “Tell me!”

“It’s not safe!”

Alzir groans. Then he sighs. Staying silent for a moment before his voice is small, and fake. “Please.”

I hesitate for a second. Clenching my fists, “No.”

“Please!” he held onto my arm, pushing and tugging. “Please, please, please.” I pause. Looking at him with narrowed eyes. He lets go and smiles awkwardly at me. “Please?”

I look around. “Fine. Maybe.”

His eyes light up. “See, I knew you were a little nice!”

The corners of my lips slightly curve. “Well, there's still a while until it. So I can still change my mind!"

He laughs and I look up into the sky.
Somehow, I'm still scared. Scared that God will take away this one, true friend I had. The one who lets me call him a friend, the only one who expects nothing from me. I'm scared if I show my weakness, it'll happen. In Front of God. The weakness: I think I might forsake myself, and what I’ve worked all these years to build up to, just for him.

The pendant on my chest shines. He touches my forehead with the end of his fingertip. “What’s going on in there, I wonder.”

I laugh, “Yeah? Nobody knows.”

He tilts his head. “Do you?”

I pause. Without meaning to, I stay silent for a moment.

“Psh,” he pushes my head slightly with his finger before letting go. We continue to walk through the dark field, the only light coming from the moon and from his palms which glow with a soft, lilac magic.

Yet like always, the day sets too quick, and the night falls away.

Chapter Text

You’re probably wondering how we met.

Me and Alzir.

There’s a ring to it, I think. If not, then there is one for me. We met as kids. And we were just two incredibly, incredibly hurt kids, I guess. But the hurt find the hurt. And I think that’s important.

Going back, all those years ago, when all I knew was fear. Their words echo in my ears as silence fills the warm air around us, I remember everything. The left side of my face dripping with blood from my head. My gaze dazed.

“You want something.” his fingers slowly wrapping around my neck. “Something that feels meaningful.”

There is something comforting about being held by what you cannot escape from. The cicadas sing and crack as the fire burns bright. “Kiri..!” My clenched teeth strain my words. His hands bruise my skin.

An intimate act; to kill someone with your own hands.
An intimate act; not understanding whether it is mercy or old intention.

There is something here. That I’ve never understood. All my life, I’ve been searching for someone to tell me what to do. To tell me how to do it. So I can put the blame on something other than myself. So that I can have the net of safety. I always want to know. I always want.

“Everyone who loves you will have to understand me to understand you,” he looks down at me. A smile. “Do you like that?”

“You know,” My head spins as it gets harder to breathe. “I’m jealous of how you feel so little.” I smile agitatedly and blood stains my teeth. “Are you jealous of me, for feeling so much?”

His choke tightens and I cough out. The world sways beneath me. He presses harder. “Knowing how much this will hurt,” he leans forward with his hands still on my neck. His knees on each side of my hips, his chest resting on mine as his lips graze the side of my cheek and my ear. “I’d say your luck is rotten.”

“Why are you doing..!-” Kiri’s hands tighten and I can’t help but cough out. “..This!”

“We’ve gotten too close. I can’t have something to lose.” His smile makes my eyes widen as I try and keep my gaze unblurred. Focused. So I never forget his face. Never forget this lesson.
So I know who to look for.

His dark, dark black hair falls on the nape of his neck, and down the sides of his face.But those violet eyes have a look in them. Different from all those years we spent hand in hand.

I do not know these eyes.

He raises his hand, and the daggers blade shines in the sun as it blinds my view. My eyes widened. He follows through. Everything goes quiet as my mind goes blank. My ears ring and I’m blinded with pain. I throw him off of me and he laughs as his back hits a tree. I get up, stumbling back, salt filling my mouth. This can’t be. It can’t. I-

I?

I spread my wings out without looking, the dark midnight feathers fluttering despite the blood. I fly off, looking for somewhere. Looking for something. But something is wrong. I look back and he mouths something from the ground.

But my eyes become heavy with the tears I wanted to shed.

And I fell.

In the morning I wept. I guess, I wept for myself, and for anyone like this at the same time. I just used it as an excuse to finally cry like I wanted to. Unforgiving. Now that I had a reason. I was so angry at the world, it felt like the next living thing I saw, I’d just kill it.

That night, I realized something as I collapsed on the snow. The sun setting on me as the golden hues met my skin. A shimmer of warmth which felt like it was colder than the white I laid on. Here it is. I say. Here’s the day I’ve been waiting for: It seems that everyone really does seem to step back when the puddle of blood from even the one they love most meets their feet. That morning, I’d crawled out into a field of freshly fallen snow to die.

“I’m ready, God!” I shout out, with the remaining strength I have. “Just do it, you’ve been waiting!” I was laughing, and the blood only ran down my lips faster which each twitch and shake of my chest. A bright smile on my face as I throw my arms out by my side and let them rest on the cool snow.

Then it fell. And oh. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget it. The shimmering glitter of white from the heavens above. Resting on my skin, and not melting away as they met my body. I sigh, and I realize a number of things.

Firstly, This is the first time I’ve ever seen snowflakes.

Secondly, it really is as beautiful as they all say.

I close my eyes. I know I’m dying. I know. I know I should be scared. But this is the only time I’ve really been promised something, too. Can’t people understand that? Can’t you let me have that? For once? Promised something, without having to give something in return. What an odd feeling. I don’t know how people ever get sick of this. Mourning doves all around. Probably watching me.

Wondering, why is he just laying there?

Just get up.
Just get up, me.

But a muffled yelling makes its way through the songs, through the wind. I open my eyes slowly, and someone meets my gaze. A blurry face looking over me as they held me. Resting their hand on my cheek as they pushed the strands of hair out of my face.

Is it you, God?

I tilt my head in confusion.

A boy.

Young, my age, he looked a little younger even. Ivory skin, and hair light as the sky itself. Ash painted the sky around him and he even seemed to glow around it all. Is this an angel? His eyes widened at the realization of us holding a silent eye contact. And that’s when I noticed his striking lilac eyes. An exhale of his breath led to a brilliant fog of his warmth. My cheeks stained with tears, sticky and frozen to my skin. And so I use my last remaining strength. I put my hands over my face.

An angel doesn’t have to witness this. Doesn’t have to, doesn’t need to.

But these types of people are..

is one of them. The type of person I have always wanted to take far away from this place, spare them from it. Even now, I know he is different. But these.. Monsters. They'll take it away. This softness.

These are the type of people you have to scar to teach. So he never forgets. Never forgets to not touch that which is poisonous.

I raise my hand.

He does not flinch.

I blink.

He comes closer. Waiting. Reaching a hand to me only for me to flinch as my eyes flutter. He slowly, incredibly carefully, holds me as he goes on his knees too. Like I can break at any second. Any moment. I’d already broken. He was just holding the pieces together as they cut him. "I know it hurts.” His voice is small. “I know it does.”

“Who..?” I whisper. Just tell me your name. Tell me, and I'll find you one day.

I will find out why you’re doing this now. The reason. Because there must be. I’ll pay you back. I won’t owe you anything. I finally won’t owe anyone anything.

That’s my promise anyways.

The one I made a long, long time ago. That when I’m finally 18, I’ll have to make my dues with everyone I've ever known. Then I’ll finally be ready to get out of this place. Knowing that I wouldn’t look back. It wasn’t my idea. It came up when I was with Kiri, actually, at the time. The effort, the struggle that I’d have to fulfill every promise, pay every debt, return every favor, forgive everyone I had a grudge towards, and lastly, be forgiven by the people who I had done something to. The last one didn’t make much sense to me, I guess. But it's good for morality. Considering my character, and my unapologetic reputation with others.

The boy blinks, and it’s clear how his eyes were glossy now. “Alzir..!" He quickly replied, almost fumbling over his words. Then he smiled worriedly, the slight gap of his front two teeth showing as he repeated softly this time. "My name’s Alzir.” I can’t help but want to laugh at it. This innocence. So clear, fresh. His brows furrow in worry. His complexion is sweet, and too soft to really respect. With wide eyes, the colour of the lilac fields, and a bruise on his cheek. Clearly from a hit. He places his hands on my wing gently. I turn my head, looking at them. His palms slightly glow.

I cough in surprise, blood in my throat. He pauses, instantly retracting his hands, a flinch of fear on his face. My brows furrow as I watch his expression.

His eyes betray him. I grab his wrist this time.

I find that in that moment, I was so afraid. Afraid that he would rip off my wings and call it a crown. Hang them up after washing the blood out.

I’ll always remember this day.
When I lost someone, I then found someone.

And he'd never let go.

Chapter Text

As I lay my head on the sun warmed grass next to his lap, I let my wing rest on him. He gently takes it into his hands as he keeps them there. A warm touch. The feeling of the magic is something I can never get used to, somehow.

He has been getting better. It has been our routine.

But it’s been years since the incident.

“You’re getting good, you know.” My cheeks are kissed with the sun, “At being a healer.”

Alzir looks off, mumbling, “I’m not a healer.”

I turn my head, and look up at him. He looks different now. Now that I think about it. We’re young. Of course.

But there's something about being 18. I don’t know whether we’re kids anymore. I look at him as I lay my hands on my stomach, gazing up at the sky. “You are.” He looks back down at me, watching my eyes. Searching for something.

Alzirs voice is gentle. “No.” No hint of anger. More reassurance.

I close my eyes. My hair spreads onto the grass, forming rivers of dark navy. “You’re healing me.”

“You are the lone exception.” He points up as he exaggerates his words sillily.

I look off as I open my eyes halfway. “Think I’ll fly again?”

A pause. He drops his hand and his face isn’t in that stupid position anymore. “Yeah,”

I don’t open my eyes. I could tell he said it with his hands slightly clenched. It was so slight. So minuscule. He’d thought I wouldn’t notice.I always did. “Can’t wait..” I mumble.

“You know, people tend to hold pain so close to their hearts.” I watch him. His eyes wandering. “You definitely do.”
I smile, “You mean, I’m haunted.”

He tilts his head as he looks over me, his hair falls near my face. His voice is soft as he shook his head gently and smiled. “That is not what I meant.”

“You wanted to say it,” I snicker.

Alzir raises a brow, then his lines become a thin line. “I never say what I don’t mean.”

I think for a moment, then I confess, “It’s true.” I think of the fact that my greatest wishes have consisted of me being able to talk. I think if I was brave, I would tell him. I would tell him and he would know and I would know. But I’m not. And I won’t. And I think he already knows.

“Can I ask you something then?” Alzir mumbles.

I tilt my head to match the angle of his. “Sure.” His light blonde hair shines in the sun, and around the edges it casts a beautiful silhouette.

“What do you want?” he pauses. “I mean, to be happy,”

I smile. “I think I just one this one thing. Or two..”

Alzir seems genuinely curious. “What is it?” And then he rests his cheek on his fist, propped up on his thigh as he looks over me. I shake my head, covering my mouth.
He raises a brow. “Come on! Tell me.” he pauses. “Women? Money? Swords? Clothing? Fortune?-“ I close my eyes, his babbling fading away. I want so many things. I want to end his golden lineage, a string of ribbon dipped in crimson. To destroy his family.

Royalty.

Zyro’s royal hands drenched in the blood of my mother. My creator.

My nation.

Even worse; I want him to forgive me after. I will have the opportunity to strike him once. Once, and for all.
But I won't.
Spill my blood. Just don’t look away.

“None of those.” Alzir opens his mouth to continue his list, I interrupt as I turn to him. “What do you want?”

He pauses. Looking at me as he smiles. “I want to see the lights.”

“Is that all?” I ask.

“All I want.”

I sigh, “That’s a good one.” I was preparing myself for him to ask me for something I couldn’t give.
Something I could never give.

I think of what I could be if he asked me to. I thought at that moment how he could never know how cruel I could be. I now realize that I’ve always been waiting for him to ask. Just ask. Give me the chance. Let me see if you’ll flinch. I don’t say this, however. Because, unlike him, I never say what I mean. “Excited?” I ask.

“For?” He pauses. “The party? Yeah. Yeah- I am. I’m finally turning 19.”

“Exciting things,” I add. “What flavour cake is your favourite?”

“Lemon.”

“Lemons it is then.” He smiles, but the sound of someone's footsteps knocking on the floor quickly brings us back to reality. I sit up, raising my head from Alzir’s lap as I make my distance and scoot over.

A guard.

They bring their armored knee down, covered in white metal as they bow their head. “My prince,” Then, at me. “Prince's companion.”

Prince’s companion. I blink at the call. But I try not to show my surprise too much as I look back at Alzir and see him watching them intently. “What is it?”

“His majesty wishes for you to come back and get to the meeting..” The guard doesn’t lift their head. But I was guessing it was a woman considering their voice. It is soft. And they are kind.

Alzir looks at me. I shrug, he speaks, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be riight to it!” He sings, and he laughs as he falls back and I catch him under his arms as he looks up at me. The guard nods, and then waits for him by the side of the hill. I look down at him as he remains limp in my hold. “Earth to Niri-”

“Huh?” I'm snapped back into reality by his voice, and now stare right at him.

A blink. Alzir smiles, “Hey! I said, I forgot to tell you that.. Uh. There’s a dance. For my ‘pre-birthday’ celebration. Wanna come? No pressure.. I just want to step on your shoes, of course.”

I smile too, shaking my head. “A lose-lose situation. Count me in!”

Alzir nods, pointing. “Better learn to dance, sweetheart. I’m not gonna fall out of step for you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Chapter Text

“I want to be loved by what I fear. Can I be forgiven for which I do not regret?”

I shut the book hard on those words. This character really was a fool. They have everything. But once an outlaw saved her from wolves, she fell in love with her, despite knowing that she was a vampire. One who killed the ones she loved in her village.

She has everything, and throws it away for nothing. Just because someone loves you, doesn’t mean you have to love them back.

I throw the book gently on the drawer and lay back on the bed, letting my body outline the dark silk.

I still remember that one passage. She said,
“I love you.”

“Don’t,” The outlaw said. Her gun shining in the light of the moon they sat under. “I’ll only bring you pain.”

“I don’t care. They can burn me at the stake. Kill me and hang me up as an example! As long as you don’t look away, then I’d smile even with my blood on my teeth.”

Though she made no sense at times, it was still a good book. Just showed the lengths at which someone would go for love. Even if it meant she’d die, she still spoke it out loud. Better than me.

I push away the covers and sit up straight. I look over at my bedside table, and the blade of Kia, my spear, stares right back at me. Me, looking at myself, and yet I cannot even hold my own amber gaze.

My entire existence is an act of revenge. I've been preparing myself to accept this for a long time. Despite this fact, I still find myself becoming attached to the littler things in life. Selfishness is etched into my psyche, and it runs through my blood too often than I hoped.

Something terrible has happened here. It's in the wind, the air we breathe, the dirt and the roots which we step on. It’s growing, and growing, and won’t stop.

It all started with my mother.

I still remember. Of course I do. I never forget what hurts me. And I always forgive.

I look away from the blade. My mother’s name was Quera. It means Comfort. That’s almost funny, considering that anything connected to her has always caused me pain. I resent her for that, I guess.

But I also loved her. I loved her a lot.

As a kid, I had her, and she had me. So many days I would find her crying. Nights spent between sorrow and cotton sheets she hid under. Trying to get away from the world around her, and in turn, away from me. I asked her why she felt so sad. She told me that there are people in this world who kill the ones you love because they don’t have anyone to.

And I slowly began to understand. That she’s always prepared me for this. And I ignore it. And I ended up loving someone who wanted to kill me. I guess it really is in our genes to hurt.

I get up from the bed I sat upon, walking towards the window as I slowly rested the side of my head on. The drops of frost melting away on the outside and leaving streaks of clarity on its fogged glass. And I look at my wings. And I reach my hand out to the dark feathers. My hand balls into a fist and I tear away.

A flash of pain as I instantly let go and they dance in the air until pathetically laying on the ground. God, it never changes, this feeling. I shut my eyes hard and let myself slowly fall with the support of the glass I rested upon, coming down until I sat with my shoulder pushing harshly against the wood and my wing aching.

I open my eyes and my brows furrow as I yell. “Fuck!” I throw a punch at the window and it cracks at my touch.

I huff.

Blood stains, flowing through each shiver of break. Shards of glass cutting into my knuckles as I stare at my fist. Slowly letting it loosen, and feeling the pain set it. No, it wasn’t a quick shot, a glass taken in one big gulp anymore. It just felt painful now. Not like it had any meaning. Except that it was just pathetic.

I wish I was as colourful on the outside as I was on the inside.

But all that blue would never let itself out. Right now I just felt red, red, red.

A knock on the door, and I look over. The door slowly creaked open and a break of light hit my face as I looked at the figure. Her brows furrow and she came over quickly, kneeling beside me as she took my hand into hers and looked at the blood. “What happened?”

Her voice was soft, but stern. Cold and warm. “Nothing,” I whisper.

“Clearly, ‘nothing’ is not what happened.” She mumbles. Taking a deep breath, she takes a roll of bandage out of her pocket and slowly removes the shards of glass carefully. I hissed with each touch and shot of burning pain.

A few minutes passed in the silence of her tending to the wound, and she now was on her knees, her eyes focused as her brows furrow in focus. “Zara..” I whisper.

Zara. The name means grief. I know because I read about it once. In a book of names. A book I absolutely adored the first time I had found it. I would spend hours, just searching through peoples names. Trying to find their roots. Trying to find some incomprehensible meaning, and in my mind, my taking of the time to go to this length made me feel as though I had a special part of them with me that no one else did. I find the first thing I wonder about someone is what their name means.

My mother named me Nakoa.
But Zara calls me Nikan now.

You can say, Zara was the closest thing to a mother I have ever known. She was closest to my mom all those years ago.

After her death, nearly a century has she protected me. Yet she has known her since their beginnings. Known my father. Because my mother and Zara were soulmates. And she has never let her go, nor me.

Zara looks up at me, the scar on her eye shining lightly from the rising sun outside of the now cracked mosaic. “Yes?’

“What was she like? Really like.”

Her actions pause for a moment. “Quera?” I nod. Her lip slightly purses, and she then continues to wrap. “She was kind.”

“Really,” I mumble, sarcastically. Her elven ears twitch.

She raises a brow. “She was, different.” A pause. “Quera was beautiful. Inside and out. She was never afraid to shine.”

I think about it. About her. I smile slightly. I only have few photos. Zara tries to get rid of them, to not let me see. She says it’ll just make me upset. She’s right, but I still remember her face. A look in her eyes in every photo, like she makes it alive. A shine that doesn’t leave. A dark, dark blue hair. And a long, white streak treading like a river in her hair, all the way down to her knees. Zaras gaze lingers on me, and then she looks away. “But they,” Zyros. “Hated us. And she loved them. So I was the one who held the grudge for both of us.”

“But why?” I whisper.

“Because we were different.” Zara’s voice is icy, as if she's getting bitter. “She never let others control her. When they told her, that she’d die, just because of loving him, it did nothing. And she just loved him twice as hard.”

“Why didn’t you stop her?” I look away, pressing my cheek hard against the cold wall.
Her eyes soften. Remembrance in her gaze. “How could I?” Looking at me, she gently touched her hand to my face and I closed my eyes as she brushed it along. “She was so happy. So happy when she had you. How could I?”

“You should’ve,” I mumble. And the tears finally fall, a weight off my eyes.

A slight smile on her lips as I look over. “When Ikon killed her,” Her voice is soft. As gentle as I’ve ever heard it. “He looked me straight in the eye. I could only break through to you. Seperated from Quera by those blades, by the cheers of that disgusting crowd,” Our eyes meet and my nose is pink while my eyes are glossy and the edges around her blur. “I was so scared. Scared of what he would do. To you, just a babe. On that stage you climbed onto. Even as I held you, I couldn’t bring myself to look back at her. To see her face. To see that sword in his hand come down. You were so small,” A pain fills her eyes, and her voice only becomes more strained. “I knew I couldn’t get to her in time. So I turned my back, curled on you like broken floors, and hid you away from the violence for so many years. I was too late for her. I’m sorry. I’m always sorry for that.”

My brows furrow as I listen. I’ve never seen Zara cry. And she didn't. Even now. But her eyes were heavy, heavy with the burden of my mothers death.

I reach for her. And I hug her with my weakened strength. And I try to hug tightly. Her hands pause behind my back. And then she wraps around me carefully.

Quera is my mom. Was my mom.

She died when I was young. When I was around 8 years old. And it’s been 10 years since then, 10 springs since it happened.

My father was from Xiyan, a nation which was destroyed all that time ago, at the hands of Zyros. The land I now weep on. “Nikan,” Zara whispers. “Zyros has forsaken me.” My brows furrow. Her white hair makes her strike out. In a crowd of Elves, the lightest hair belongs to those with the soft pastels, or the lightest of blondes. Like Alzir. But nothing compared to Zara’s pure snow. The luckiest.

But it was cut short, and cut apologetically to the nape of her neck.

A bad omen.

I cut mine, too. Trying to get rid of the memory of the hands which brushed it, trying to rebel however I can. To get back at them. I still remember, Zara carefully cutting it for me so long ago. Elves had a longstanding grudge against Xiyan’s people for centuries. All that time ago, during the first lights, our Gods fought and one of them fell to the other. Yi, God of Nature, the one who loves. Zephyr, Goddess of the skies, the one with wings.

Elves killed my Xiyan father, and they killed my Elven mother. Even when she was one of them, just her loving of the one they could not support, was enough to kill her too.

It’s funny considering Zara always told me Xiyan’s version of this story. That Zephyr and Yi fell in love. But Yi’s sister died. Rayer, the Goddess of Magic. And so Yi got greedy with the idea of using the Old Tree in Elysia. To use its magic, to bring her back. Zephyr fought with him in order to stop him from using the old tree in order to bring back Rayer. Shouting that it would disrupt the order. Forsake the magic.

And yet, Yi had struck her down, and that’s when the first snow fell. An accident.
And he grieved. Weeped, for centuries. Because his cruelty, dug its way into Xiyan’s roots and the people she protected, and it was all because of him. Our Old Tree was taken by Zyros, and it now lies in their kingdoms borders. Despite it being rightfully ours to care for.

The Zyros story of this is one of glory.

Ours is one of pain.

I guess it is fitting. Considering that now all of us feel it.

I sigh, and even now, I still think of Alzir. A few days ago, he told me about the dance. But I’m nothing like these people, you know.

They’re lavenders and peony.
I’m just weeds and ferns.

A moment passes, and Zara slowly lets go of me as she scolds. “Don’t forget to re-bandage,” and then she smiles as she pinches my nose gently and I hiss at her tease. “And don’t linger on the subject, okay? Too many tears isn’t good for the soul.”

“Uh-huh..!” I push away her pinching touch.

“I’m being serious, Nikan. Don’t beat yourself up. And please, don’t tear at yourself again.” She looks at my wing, and then my fists. I just nod. Usually, I would try and speak back. But right now, I was more worried about whether I’d have to wear a suit or not.

She gets up from our shared embrace, and then helps me up as I reach my hand out to her, and she takes it despite the blood on my knuckles. Brushing herself off, she grabs her bow off the table, and looks back at me. “I’ll be back, okay?”

“Where to?” I ask as I grab some things off the nightstand and toss them back in my drawer, tidying.

“Just to.” She smiles. I roll my eyes, but she gives me a pat on the back as she walks past me and opens the door. But she looks back over her shoulder, and with a icier voice, reminds me. “Be careful.”

I look back at her voice, but the door closes behind her gently and so the light spilling onto me fades off.

I look out the window.

Option 1: Jailbars.
Option 2: Staircase.

I remember Alzir watching as I drew. How he asked me how I saw something new in something so mundane.

I don’t know, I said. I told him that sometimes I imagined new worlds in little scenes to make them seem bigger than what they were.

Like if a pond was a blue carpet in a Prince’s bedroom, and how the blue spread into the sky and then into the birds.

Or if a blowing flag was a dancer's arms, and how the wind was each burst of applause onto that stage. That the opera singers were the sounds of the store bells, each chime a different play. A big red sign the cheek of makeup a soprano paints on her skin.

You’re too creative for your own good.

You always find something to create meaning for.

Chapter Text

Looking around, I find this familiar place makes me oddly nauseous at times. The walls reach to the skies, and the roses caught on the fencing continue to warp their thorns around it.
Walking into the palace grounds was simple enough. The shadows hugged me tight, and wrapping my feathers around me blocked me from views in most halls. As I continued to walk, the sound of a pompous tone sounded from the corner. Footsteps, and heels about to turn the corner.

Quickly I hug my back to the cold pillar. I hold my breath.

“Haha!” They all seemed to laugh. One of the men's white mustaches contrasting with his dark monocle. The court lady next to him continued to clack her heels loudly on the marble floor.
“I still cannot believe it. The Prince has grown out of his roots. He's forgetting himself more and more with that backtalk of his.” My brows furrow as I listen in.

However, a new voice. One of a young man. Soft, but rich with education and grace in a way, “Punishment will teach him.”

Punishment?

I falter.

I blink as I realize my wing knocked the side of a hallway table, causing the vase to clatter. I take in a quick breath and hold it again. They all pause.

The mustached man spoke again, “What was that?”

“It came from there..” I shut my eyes hard. I'm done for!

“Hey guys!”

I blink, looking to the energetic voice as they walked quickly past me and out into the open. Alzir threw his arms out as I remained hidden behind the pillar beside him, he slightly leaned on it. He did a lazy, sloppy bow as he crossed a leg and looked up. The woman shook her head, her silver jewelry clinking.

“My Prince.” The young man greeted, taking a step forward as he bowed with his hand on his heart. Alzir went closer. I’m guessing in an effort to keep him from approaching my direction.

“Kio,” Alzir said singy-songy back.

I look over my shoulder past the pillar to their area. Kio was his tutor. That’s what he told me, at least. He seemed quite young to be in such a high power of profession. As the personal tutor of the crown prince, I mean. Long, silk like orange hair. Contrasting with his tanned skin.

And a familiar scar right along his neck.
I catch myself staring.

His eyes raise in my direction. My heart stops for a moment, and I quickly retract my head. After a moment of clenched fists, they just kept talking.

I can’t help but let out a soft breath of exhale.

“Alzir,” Kio said softly. Alzir raised a brow. He pauses for a moment. “You should get some rest today.”

"Alright.." Alzir muttered, whistling in awkwardness as he looked around. "I heard there's something going on in the ballroom. Go check it out.. You..!"

The old man shook his head too and the lady faceplamed.

Alzir laughed awkwardly as he scratched his head and they walked past him.

Standing there for a while got tiring. Eventually, the sound of Alzirs skipping boots came closer to me as he spun around the pillar and collided into me as we both stumbled back into the garden. I fall down with an ooph onto my butt as he catches himself above me.

He snickers, and I laugh too.

“Niri!”

I smile as I look up at him. “Yes?”

He examines my expression. Trying to see through it.
It’s no use.

The sun hits my sun kissed face as I watch the sky above me. The clouds form and they fade and they come back in the same day. The sun hits his face softly, the edges of his silhouette a fuzzy soft yellow.

He pushes my hair out of my face.
Bruise me so I never forget this moment.

I blink. What am I thinking? For a moment in the soft silence of the singing birds of dusk and the heavy air of august, in that split moment between seconds, everything around me stopped.
Alzir’s voice is soft as it chimes above me. “Are you okay?”

I pause.

Alzirs fingertips grazed the black feathers of my wing as it rested softly on the grass. His knee on the grass between my legs. “I know. You’re not okay. But, you’ve gotten better.”

“Mhm.” I breathe him in as the wind blows.

“That’s good,” he takes his hands off slowly. “Sit up.” As I do he sits right behind me and takes my hair in his hands. I can’t help but click under my tongue a tsk.
He smiles proudly at that. I shake my head. Key point:

Braiding someone's hair is a gesture traditionally for married couples in Zyros.

Alzir braids and I let the breeze kiss my collar bones and cheeks. He tilts his head, his brows furrowing in focus as he continues, “I heard of something. Magic.”

“What is it?” I absentmindedly ask, poking the jade tassels on his belt as they clung softly.

“Weaving-"

“You won’t perform this.” There emerged a bad feeling in my gut just at hearing the word, and my tone was undoubtedly harsh.

“What?” Alzir pauses. “Why!-“

“It’s a no!” I snap.

I sit up suddenly in my frustration and he loses his balance, “Woah-”

He falls back onto the grass off his knee. He quickly sits up, about to curse me for it. I cut him off quickly, “It’s forbidden.!” There is more of a pleading sense in my tone rather than the authority I intended initially.

He snaps back, “You can not tell me what to do like this!”

I snapped harder, “No!”

He’s about to say something. He holds his tongue. Calm down, I remind myself.

Inhale.
Exhale.

There are five omens.

Omens are individuals who deny life. And they accept pain. They harm, because they were. Pretty much, Omen’s take on a path of revenge. And in obtaining such a signature power to themselves, they in turn lose everything to get to their goal.

One, Death.
Two, Blood.
Three, Weaving.
Four, Tongue.
And five, Illusion.

I hold onto his shoulder carefully, yet sternly as he edges back at the touch, I ignore this discomfort. Even when it hurts me too. “Whoever acts it.. Takes part in weaving..- It- it will harm themselves in the process. Okay? It’s the act of taking another's pain at the cost of yours.”

Weaving. I never met them. It's hard to catch us Omens together.

If caught at all. There’s something about it. The magic. I’ve never known how the revenge paths came to be. Except for fables with bare mention of something dark and wet. Disgustingly sticky, blood. Ice cream stuck in teeth like skin and all the bad types of love. Sweltering in a desert. Frostbite in the snowfall. Suffocation in an ocean tide. A feeling of uneasiness and insecurity.
He suddenly continues to braid, faster, and in turn, less focused and sloppy. “It’ll work.”

“Barely any have been able to do it, Alzir!” My hands tighten. “It’s too much!”

“Barely! Meaning; someone has.” His brows furrow.

“Two people..” I whisper. I try to get him to understand how terrifying it is. Don’t. Please.

Alzir snaps out, “Who then?”

“The Omen..!” Just speaking it out loud made my stomach queasy. “And my.. My.. My mom..”

He ties the braid and stays quiet. There is clear regret in his eyes at his sudden compliance with me.

I turn to face him as I sit, knees touching. He mumbles something. I ignore it. “She studied there.” Xiyan. “Alone, and unknown.” I sigh. “She learned it, and one day, coming across my dad, she healed him. Her sacrifice was this; freedom. The ability to be unknown. To not be loved.”

“What happened to your dad?”

I look away. “Shot down with an Elven spear. The Asui.” He watches my eyes.

Asui is the queen’s spear given to her when she was young. She was a warrior, afterall. I think any would know her stories. “Sorry.”

“No need.”

“Still.”

I smile softly and then continue, “His wing was damaged.. Badly.. Beyond healing.”

“So she.. Used weaving..?”

“She fixed him. And she died for it eventually. That was the cost.”

He whispers. “As in?”

“To change another's fate, is to change yours into theirs.” Alzir’s gaze meets mine. A look in them. Like he knows. My brows furrow as I try to understand. Something is..
Off.

As I am about to speak, his blank expression blinks and he turns guilty instantly. “Sorry. I knew it was too good to be true.”

I pause. I decide it is a question for another day. I carefully take his wrist into my hands. Turning his hand over and he lets his palm face the sky. As I place the tip of my pointer finger gently on it, he looks at me. “This is enough.” I say.

“My hands?”

“You.”

He blinks. A warm smile, “We have to leave here, you know?” A sigh and he falls back as he lays his head down.

There will be nothing to leave. “I know.”

“Gotta get out of here.”

What will be left? “I know.”

------------------------------------

Eventually, we went back to his room. Better yet, his personal garden. Only he goes there, anyway.

I touch the nape of his neck as he lays facing away from my body on the grass. The willow trees covered in flowers almost touched our sides as they covered the sky above us. It was our tree. Markings and murals all over it etched by my hands. Painted by mine. His body slightly flinches and I pull back.

But they’re all inspired by him.

Tender, he sighs in his sleep.
Tender, the setting sun falls on his face as he turns his body.

He clenches his hands. Eyes shut.
Even in his dreams he fights.

I touch a cut on his cheek from the thorn of a razor flower. My palm on my mouth. The taste of his blood in my mouth. To get so close to another; it makes me sick. This is simple; I love him and I want to be like him. I thought that if he had blood, him, the sun, a gift, to have him, would some of that be inside me too?

There is a deep, ugly possessiveness which came with us. I find the urge to sabotage the relations he has with others. An urge to keep him away from everything in an effort to both protect him and be the only one he will truly be understood by. Fantasies dreamt late at night and felt all throughout my bones. My heart wrinkles with jealousy, pruning like a date with every second.

Is it an intimacy, or a violence? At what point can you not distinguish the two?

Could you save me?

The taste of his blood in my mouth.

Do you know?

A deep, porous jealousy seeping under my skin when I see him with others. Teeth showing the longer I clench, sharpening with each grind, everyday feeling as though I was slowly metamorphosing into something less than human. Sometimes I want to grab him and take him away to a world where it is only us. But we would never be happy.

Do you know me?

He wouldn’t be happy.

The taste of his blood in my mouth.

Even if I was.

Which of us will survive?
Which of us will survive the other?

A feeling thick as blood in my throat.
I turn my body and throw up.