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Sol turned on the television. They were going to have a happy outlook today, despite everything going on at the moment. But as soon as they turned on the television, the news station popped up.
“Breaking news: Our King has decided that it’s not enough hunting out the Winged Ones that we know of: anyone suspected of being a Winged One will be investigated and, if these suspicions are found to be true, arrested.”
Sol shivered as their stomach turned over. They were a Winged One themself, and they had been lucky enough to stay hidden from the new king who had taken over and promised to cleanse the realm of everyone who wasn’t a human. They closed their eyes, frightened, but decided they would still face the day like any other.
They stepped out of the house—and had only been walking for a few minutes when chaos broke out. The mysterious armored “guards” of the land were on another spree, it seemed.
Sol tried to run, but ran right into one of the guards. A weapon was raised over their head, and everything went black.
Sol woke up with their head spinning and a chill in their body. They were in an upright position somehow. And they wore a yellow tank top, despite having had a grey jacket over it earlier that day. When they opened their eyes, blinking in the darkness, they realized how they were standing—despite the dim lighting, they could see the chains attached at their wrists, holding their arms to the wall above their head, and the same thing on their ankles.
Their heartbeat quickened as they remembered the announcement they’d heard, and their capture not long after. They glanced over at the door—was that a whip leaning against the wall?
Almost immediately, the door opened. Into the room stepped a man with black hair, blue eyes that were a shade darker than Sol’s own, not to mention a lot colder, and a small goatee. He wore an admittedly classy suit, and his badge identified him as working for the king. Sol’s breath caught as they recognized him. Vincent, the king’s most brutal enforcer.
Vincent stepped forward, picking up the object that stood near the door. So it was a whip!
Sol tried to hide their shaking as Vincent approached them. He smiled cruelly.
“So, are you a Winged One, my friend?”
Sol’s heart pounded, they had always dreaded this question.
“No, I’m just a human.”
They somehow managed to steady their voice and not stammer despite their fear.
“Are you sure about that? The gleam in your eyes, it matches the description we were given. For that matter, all of your features seem… unique to the Winged Ones. Human, sure, but… enhanced.”
Coming from anyone else, Sol would take that as a serious compliment, but here, that was the quickest way to put them in danger—oh, who were they kidding, they were already in danger!
Vincent leaned forward and grabbed their blonde hair roughly, snarling, “Show me your wings!”
Sol shivered harder, knowing that if they showed their wings it would be the death sentence, but also knowing that they weren’t going to be let off easy until they did. There was no winning this one.
When Sol stayed silent, Vincent stood up again, smirking.
“I see you’re already trembling. Would you like to get this over with? Or end it early?”
Sol just stared in terror as Vincent played with the whip he held.
“You’d like to begin, then?”
Sol closed their eyes, biting their lip to prevent themself from screaming as their midsection felt like someone had ran a knife through it. They looked down and winced as they saw the long, angry cut, already soaking the front of their shirt with blood.
Something inside them felt furious, too, furious that they and the other Winged Ones had to be put through this.
That was the reason they refused to let their pain show, they were representing the Winged Ones now, and the Winged Ones would not back down.
They closed their eyes as the whip cracked again and again, ignoring the pain even though it felt worse than anything they’d ever experienced before.
Finally, finally, Vincent took a step back.
“Are you going to show your wings? Or do we need further persuasion?”
Sol was weak and shaking, and their clothes were badly tattered, not to mention covered with blood, as the front of their body, plus some of their arms and legs, looked like they had been slashed multiple times over. They desperately wanted this to end, but they knew they couldn’t do what they were asked.
Vincent walked away for a moment, soon returning with a torch. He held it up to his prisoner, who trembled despite the intense heat.
No. Please not this…
It already burned, and the flames hadn’t even touched them.
Vincent smirked.
“Would you like to tell me now?”
Sol froze.
They shouldn’t… but the other option didn’t look so good either…
With a sigh, they nodded.
Vincent released them and they fell to the ground, gasping as their wounds flared up. They closed their eyes, letting their deep purple wings unfurl.
It felt good.
When a Winged One kept their wings hidden for too long, they began to feel…unwell. No particular symptoms, just… general malaise.
Vincent was no doubt doing that cruel smirk of his, but Sol was too frightened and too ashamed to look.
Vincent pushed them back against the wall, snarling, “I will be back, and it’ll be the last thing you’ll ever see!”
Sol hung their head, dejected and terrified.
They knew what fate awaited them…
Sol had drifted into a stressed sleep out of pure exhaustion when the door opened again.
They were put in handcuffs and two guards led them outside, where they pointed their rifles at their prisoner…
Sol squeezed their eyes shut—they knew this was it, but they couldn’t help shaking in fear.
After an agonizing several seconds, nothing had happened.
They suddenly heard a voice whisper in their ear: “Run. When we tell you to, run.”
Sol gasped and opened their eyes. The two guards were looking at them sympathetically.
One whispered, “My son is a Winged One.”
The second whispered, “He’s my brother,” gesturing to the other guard.
Sol nodded, tears springing to their eyes.
“Thank you so much…”
With that, they turned and ran for the woods. They made it out without a fuss, and once they were far enough away, they collapsed.
Sol’s head and back hurt from dehydration, their wounds ached horribly, and they were shivering with the cold and dampness that had set in a few moments ago.
They closed their eyes again, knowing they had to get up and get going, but they were just so exhausted…
Suddenly they heard footsteps. Their heartbeat quickened, but they made no attempt to move. Down the path came a tall woman who appeared to be of Asian descent, with black hair down to the middle of her back and dark brown eyes. She wore a lavender raincoat, and looked to be in a hurry.
Sol didn’t know what to do, but they decided to take a chance—night was falling, it was beginning to rain, and they knew they wouldn’t last out there.
They raised a hand and whispered, “Hey…”
The woman stopped and looked around, eventually noticing Sol.
Her eyes widened and she ran over to them.
“Who are you?”
Sol’s lips were numb and shaking from the cold, but they managed to stammer out, “I’m Sol. I… I r-really need a place to st-stay tonight… could… could you…?”
They weren’t even sure what they were asking for, but the woman immediately nodded, stating that she had a home nearby and would get them all patched up.
She helped Sol to their feet and guided them towards a warm, cozy-looking cabin.
A few minutes later, Sol reluctantly allowed the woman, who had introduced herself as Amber, to clean and dress their wounds after they had washed their hair. Amber also provided them with a fresh change of clothing, a yellow shirt and blue sweatpants that fit surprisingly well.
They lay on the couch, drifting off slightly, when the smell of warm home cooking hit them.
They slowly got up despite their injuries and headed into the kitchen where a pot of pasta was boiling, and Amber was mixing together what looked to be pesto sauce. Sol’s stomach growled, they hadn’t eaten since that morning.
Amber saw them and smiled.
“Hungry?”
Sol nodded.
Amber went to guide them to a chair, but they shook their head and made their way over by themself. They didn’t want to be fussed over—okay, maybe they did, but it was still embarrassing.
Amber got them a plate, and they sat down to eat.
Conversation went surprisingly well—Amber didn’t ask too many personal questions, even though she was obviously curious, as one would be after finding a horribly injured person randomly lying around.
After dinner, Sol decided they were going to go right to bed.
They were extremely tired, but they still didn’t want to be alone with their thoughts… yet their pride kept them from calling for Amber, even as silent tears ran down their cheeks as they lie in bed, processing the emotions of the day.
Somehow, Sol was back in the clutches of Vincent, and he was whipping them again—their punishment for escaping was an even more agonizing death, one of a thousand cuts. As the whip cracked again and again, Sol let out a scream—and opened their eyes to Amber’s ceiling.
They sat up and glanced around, still shaking, yet beginning to realize that it had only been a dream.
Great. They were having nightmares now.
They hoped they hadn’t woken Amber—but as soon as they thought that, the door opened and Amber ran in.
“Are you okay? I heard you yelling…”
“I’m… I’m okay.”
Amber took a look at Sol, making Sol want to hide—they didn’t want to be thought of as weak…
“You’re trembling. Did something happen?”
“No… just a bad dream.”
Amber tilted her head sympathetically.
“Do you want me to stay?”
Sol should refuse… but they couldn’t bring themself to.
Amber sat down on the bed next to Sol, who didn’t react.
“Is it okay if I hold your hand?”
Sol nodded reluctantly.
Amber put her hand on Sol’s and her eyes widened.
“Your hand is so cold…”
Sol nodded again.
“I d-don’t know how… but my hands and feet are c-cold… t-the rest of me is w-warm… probably from stress…”
Amber rubbed Sol’s hand, and Sol had to fight not to lean against Amber’s shoulder. They desperately wanted the comfort, but their pride still got in the way.
Eventually Amber spoke up.
“I have some fluffy socks, would you like them to keep your feet warm?”
Sol nodded hesitantly.
Amber got up and returned with the socks, then handed them to Sol. Sol just sat there, wondering how they could put them on when their whole body still hurt whenever they moved too much.
Amber seemed to notice this, as she bent down without a word and put the socks onto Sol’s feet.
That one gesture of kindness, despite being so simple, melted away all of Sol’s stress, and when Amber went to embrace them, they leaned into the show of affection.
After a few moments of just staying like that, cozy and warm in each other’s arms, Amber whispered, “Are you ready to go back to sleep?”
Sol sat up instantly.
“O-of course. I’m sorry. I woke you up, and now I’m probably keeping you—”
Amber held up a hand.
“You’re not causing any trouble for me. I’m happy to stay with you for however long you need.”
Sol hesitated, considering this.
“Could… you please stay with me while I sleep? In… in case I have another nightmare?”
Amber nodded.
With that, Sol lied back down, Amber right next to them, and Sol curled up against Amber, feeling truly safe for the first time that day.
The next day, Sol awoke to Amber stroking their hair affectionately.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Sol smiled to themself, sitting up and stretching their arms and wings—wings? Had they really brought out their wings in their sleep?
They froze and glanced behind them.
There were the familiar purple-feathered limbs—the same wings they had mentally vowed never to show to anyone when the new king had taken the throne. That was twice in 24 hours they’d broken that vow.
They quickly hid their wings away, glancing back at Amber in terror—would she report them to the authorities?
Instead, Amber simply unfurled her own wings, resembling those of a butterfly, with pastel shades of pink, blue, white, purple, and yellow seemingly flowing across them.
Sol sighed in relief, realizing Amber was an ally. Amber smiled.
“You’re not alone.”
She paused.
“In fact… would you like to meet a bunch of other Winged Ones? People who would like the new king out of here?”
One car ride later, Amber and Sol arrived at an unassuming-looking building. Amber opened the door and they entered.
Several people of all backgrounds, shapes and sizes, stood around staring. It was a little unsettling, but then Amber stepped forward with that warm smile of hers.
“This is Sol. They’re a friend.”
With that, several people stepped forward and unfurled their wings, prompting Sol and Amber to do the same, followed by the rest of the room.
The next few minutes were a blur of introductions and conversations.
There were so many Winged Ones here!
They ranged from Rouge, a ten-year-old boy whose human father had joined Amber’s crew to protect his son, to Annabelle, a 70-year-old artist who had just had a wing-growing spell cast on her.
There was Sophie, a young novelist who’d run away from home as a teenager to practice her flight freely.
There was Baxter, a middle-aged actor who played a Winged One in a movie alongside being one in real life.
There was Sammie, a musician who had grown wings when they were thirteen.
But the most interesting of all was Amber’s story, as the daughter of the king’s advisor, who had been disowned when her wings had appeared, and now worked to protect her fellow Winged Ones.
Sol immediately felt at home there.
That afternoon, another knock sounded on the door. Amber quickly commanded everyone to sheath their wings before opening the door. On the other side was a muscular woman with brown eyes and golden hair, her gray wings stretching out nearly to the ground.
Sol was instantly impressed with her for showing her wings like that.
Amber smiled warmly.
“Linda! How nice to see you.”
Linda smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She turned to someone who stood off to the side.
“Here are the Winged Ones.”
Sol’s eyes widened as Vincent stepped into view.
He nodded at Linda.
“Thank you, Miss, for your service.”
Sol glanced behind themself at their fellow Winged Ones, whose expressions ranged from anger to terror—exactly how Sol felt.
They stepped forward, making an impulse decision.
“If…if I go with you, then will you leave the others alone?”
Vincent nodded, that cruel smile slowly spreading across his face, sending shivers down Sol’s spine.
In an instant, Vincent had flung them over his shoulder.
Sol wanted to yell, to scream, but the sound froze in their throat as the memories of what Vincent had done to them flooded their mind.
They barely noticed Amber and Baxter confronting Linda for betraying her teammates, telling her that the king would betray her in turn for her powers, then all of a sudden they were being whisked away.
The second they got their senses back, they started screaming and kicking—they never said they’d go out without a fight—forcing Vincent to put them down and punch them in the stomach.
Right where their wounds were.
They doubled over, gasping in pain.
Vincent scoffed.
“That’s what you get.” Sol’s eyes widened in horror as they remembered their nightmare.
Surely Vincent wouldn’t do something like that?
Vincent kicked them, again aggravating their injuries.
They suppressed a scream, glaring up at him, silently fighting back for the mistreatment they had been through.
For Amber, who’d lost her family.
For Baxter, who was making a statement in the best way possible.
For Sophie, and all the times she’d had to fight for herself unexpectedly.
For Sammie, whose world had been turned upside down when they were young.
For Rouge, whose family had to go the extra mile to keep him safe.
For Annabelle, and all the sudden changes to her life.
And for all the Winged Ones by Amber’s side.
And even the ones who weren’t.
They gasped and turned away as Vincent pulled out the club Sol had been knocked out with the previous morning.
But the blow never came.
Because their fellow Winged Ones were attacking Vincent with all their might.
Wings out, using that advantage to keep out of Vincent’s way and attack from the air.
Sol let out a sigh as a beaten and bruised Vincent took a step back, then turned and ran.
Sophie landed, sheathing her wings, and turned to Amber.
“He’ll be back, likely with reinforcements. We should relocate.”
Amber nodded.
“If you could go begin the moving process, I will join you soon.”
As the other Winged Ones left, Amber approached Sol.
Sol didn’t hesitate to fall into Amber’s arms. Amber held them tightly.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re safe now.”
Sol nodded. They were warm and safe in Amber’s embrace. And despite the looming danger, they felt more hopeful than they had in months.