Archive of Our Own

High above the chaotic crashing of the waves, perched elegantly on a jagged stone outcropping, a lone figure watched the commotion on the shore below with quiet amusement. He was a striking sight—long, midnight-black wings tucked neatly against his back, a sweeping dark coat snapping in the gale, and a pair of sharp, narrow eyes that missed absolutely nothing.

Just a moment ago, he had been miles away, leisurely patrolling a completely different sector of the island's airspace. His peaceful flight had been abruptly cut short when a scout rushed up to him, flying erratically and gasping breathlessly for air.

"Your Highness! Forgive the intrusion, but an intruder has breached the lower coves!" the scout had cried out, chest heiveness. "A Beorc! Our men... they are struggling to neutralize the target!"

The winged prince had merely shifted his gaze, his expression tightening with immediate annoyance. "An entire perimeter squad, struggling? Tell me, soldier—how many Beorc have managed to breach our shores? Is it a Begnion fleet? A Daein vanguard?"

The scout had looked down at his own talons, his face flushing with absolute, agonizing shame. "One, Your Highness. It... it is just one."

Amused by the sheer incompetence of his own men, he had flown over to see the disaster for himself. And now, looking down from his high perch, the sight on the gravel beach below was even more ridiculous than he could have imagined.

An entire squad of airborne Raven soldiers was diving at terrifying speeds, claws bared—yet they were completely hitting empty air. Down on the rocks, a single, flightless beorc boy with wild blue hair was frantically twisting, ducking, and sliding on his stomach. The child was weeping openly, throwing his hands up in absolute terror, yet his bizarre, gravity-defying reflexes allowed him to dodge every single lethal strike by mere inches.

To the observer on the cliff, the boy's clothes were the mystery. The white shirt was filthy and torn, but even from this height, his sharp eyes could tell the fabric was flawlessly smooth, woven with a microscopic perfection that no commoner in Tellius could ever afford. It looked like the luxury cloth of a wealthy foreign noble, yet it was being worn by a crying child who was currently bowing to a rock.

A slow, mocking smirk curled onto the young prince's lips. His annoyance had completely vanished, replaced by a deep, calculating curiosity.

With a silent, effortless tilt of his body, he stepped right off the cliff face. His massive black wings snapped open, catching the brisk sea breeze for a single, sweeping glide before he landed soundlessly on the gravel beach, directly between the frantic boy and a diving scout. His long dark coat swirled around his boots, casting a sudden, cold shadow over the shivering child.

"And here I thought a real threat had breached our land," he murmured, a smooth, mocking drawl cutting through the roar of the tide as he looked down at the shivering boy. "To think I flew all this way just to find a mere, crying beorc."

The diving scout aborted his trajectory mid-air with a panicked flare of his wings, desperate to avoid colliding with royalty. Down on the rocks, the sudden silence—broken only by the heavy snap of a long coat in the wind—made the shivering boy freeze.

Slowly, the boy lowered his arms from his face. His eyes, completely puffy and red from weeping, blinked up at the towering figure who had just descended from the heavens. Up close, this new bird man figure (?) was incredibly intimidating, looking down at him with narrow, calculating eyes that felt like they were peeling apart his thoughts. But because the blue-haired teenager was so completely unaccustomed to arguing or saying no, his automatic reflex when cornered by authority was just to explain himself as politely as possible.

"I-I'm really sorry for trespassing, sir!" the boy stammered, his voice cracking violently as he fell to his knees on the gray gravel, bowing his head toward the prince's boots. "I didn't mean to come here! I was just working in the freezer room of the fishing trawler—sorting the big tuna, you see—and then a strange, swirling portal just opened up right under my feet! I fell right through it and crashed right here onto these rocks, I swear!"

The prince stared down at the crown of the boy's messy blue hair, his expression unreadable. A freezer room? A fishing trawler? The terms were entirely foreign, sounding like gibberish.

"You expect my scouts to believe a story that ridiculous?" The young prince took a slow, deliberate step forward, tilting his head. "A foreign nation sending a trained spy would at least provide an airtight cover identity. They wouldn't instruct an infiltrator to babble about 'trawlers' and teleporting out of no where."

The sheer, trembling honesty of the boy's panic pointed heavily toward a shipwreck. Kilvas was surrounded by treacherous, hidden reefs, and with the storm rolling in from the horizon, it was entirely much more possible a bizarre foreign merchant vessel had smashed against the outer rocks, washing this oddly dressed brat into the narrow cove.

Yet, as a prince knowing the deeper, ancient histories of Tellius, he didn't entirely discard the impossible. In a world shaped by the whims of a creator goddess, where ancient magic and chaotic events could warp reality, there was always a fraction of a fraction of a chance that something truly unnatural had dropped this child onto his shores. 

"A fishing boat," the prince repeated slowly, a mocking smile returning to his face as he turned his back to the boy. "Well, little boy, your story is either far too stupid to be a manufactured lie, or the goddess has a very strange sense of humor. But either way, it leaves me wondering what else the tide brought in today."

He gestured sharply to the rigid line of scouts waiting on the gravel, his dark coat snapping in the brisk sea breeze.

"If this 'fishing trawler' of yours carried any cargo worth a damn, Kilvas will be claiming it as a toll for your little intrusion." He glanced back over his shoulder, a sharp, calculating glint in his dark eyes as they locked onto the trembling teenager one last time. "Now, let's see how well your story holds up once we present you to the King."

The word hit the boy like a physical blow. His frantic mind instantly painted a terrifying picture of a giant, monstrous bird king waiting to execute him on the spot. But true to his nature, he didn't fight back. He simply complied, allowing the two massive raven soldiers to step forward and firmly secure his wrists.

As they began to guide him away from the shoreline toward a narrow path winding up the steep cliff face, the boy looked over his shoulder at the elegant leader walking alongside them. He swallowed hard, trying to soothe the lump of panic in his throat, and cleared his throat weakly.

"U-Umm... excuse me, sir..." the boy stammered, his wide eyes shifting nervously between the man's sweeping dark coat and his massive black wings. "I-I mean, my lord? Or... or Mister Bird-Gentleman? Forgive me, I... I just want to make sure I am addressing you properly, and I don't want to be rude when we—"

The young leader paused in his stride, tilting his head back just enough to look down his nose at the captive. A thin, sharp smirk played on his lips, clearly amused by how the beorc was tying his own tongue into knots just trying to be excessively polite.

"You can stop babbling," he interrupted smoothly, his dark wings giving a brief, authoritative rustle against his back. "You may call me Naesala. Prince of Kilvas."

The boy blinked, repeating the foreign name silently in his head before nodding respectfully, a small wave of relief washing over him despite the restraints binding his wrists.

"Th-Thank you, Prince Naesala," the boy murmured, offering a tiny, fragile smile of pure gratitude just for getting a straight answer. "...I'm Iruma. Suzuki Iruma. Nice to meet you. Umm... I promise I won't be any trouble..."

Naesala only offered a sharp, mocking smirk in response to the Iruma’s desperate politeness. He turned his back on the teenager, giving a final dismissive jerk of his chin to the elite soldiers waiting by the shore.

The guards grunted in affirmation, moving forward to hoist Iruma roughly to his feet. As they hauled him across the gravel, Iruma stared blankly at the sheer, vertical cliff face directly ahead.

There were no stairs, no paths, and no ropes leading up into the jagged peaks of the island. It was an environment built strictly for creatures with wings, leaving a flightless human completely stranded on the rocky beach.

"U-Umm, excuse me..." Iruma whispered, his wide, blue eyes darting from the flat stone wall to the two massive guards holding his wrists. "How are we supposed to get up there?"

Instead of an answer, the guard on his left stepped forward.

Iruma gasped, stumbling backward as a sudden, intense glow of green energy erupted around the soldier's body. The light flared violently, blinding the boy for a second, and when it cleared, the human guard was completely gone. In his place stood a massive, predatory raven—easily twice the size of any normal bird, with sharp talons that could slice through armor and dark, intelligent eyes that stared down at him.

Iruma shrieked, his knees nearly giving out. Aside from the terrifying, sudden vertigo of teleporting through a portal onto this beach, he had never seen anything magical or unnatural in his entire life. Watching a living person literally turn into a giant monster bird right in front of his eyes was an entirely new level of horror.

"Calm down," Naesala murmured from the side, completely unbothered by the captive's panic. He didn't transform himself; instead, he casually watched the boy's terrified reaction with a small, mocking smile. "You are looking at a Laguz. Unlike you Beorc, who rely on cold iron and silly weapons, our bodies are our weapons. We hold the spirits of the beasts within us. When we choose, we shift into our true forms."

Before the blue-haired teenager could even process the explanation, the giant transformed Raven stepped behind him. With a sudden, powerful swoop, the bird's heavy talons clamped firmly around Iruma's shoulders, locking onto his used to be a clean white shirt.

With a deafening crack of feathers, the giant bird launched itself directly into the sky.

"H-Hiiiiiieeeeee!" A strangled, breathless scream tore from Iruma's throat as his feet instantly lost contact with the solid earth. The sudden, violent tug of gravity completely stole his breath away, his heart hammering against his ribs as the rocky beach shrank below him in a matter of seconds, turning into a tiny strip of gray gravel. He closed his eyes tight, paralyzed by the dizzying height.

Flying right beside them was the prince. He hadn't transformed, yet his own massive, midnight-black wings beat against the gale with absolute, effortless perfection. He glided smoothly through the violent sea air, keeping his sharp, narrow eyes locked onto his captive.

Even while hanging hundreds of feet in the air by a monster's claws, the boy's bizarre personality didn't change. Instead of cursing or fighting back, Iruma squinted his eyes open, looking over at the giant bird carrying him with a face flushing red with extreme embarrassment.

"I-I'm so sorry!" Iruma yelled over the roaring wind, tears flying from the corners of his eyes. "Am I too heavy? I had a really big lunch before the portal appeared! If I'm straining your back, I am so deeply sorry for the trouble!"

Naesala let out a short, sharp chuckle. It was a smooth, melodic sound that held absolutely no warmth. He is apologizing for his weight? To a guard who is carrying him to a potential execution?

The prince's calculating mind shifted, dissecting the anomaly before him. It wasn't just the boy's absurdly submissive personality that was strange—it was his utter lack of common sense. Any Beorc commoner in Tellius knew what a Laguz was, and a wealthy noble with a proper education should have known the histories of the beast tribes inside out. To look at a changing Raven with total, unscripted shock implied something far more baffling: this boy genuinely had no idea that their entire race even existed. No nation, not even Begnion, would send an infiltrator who lacked the basic education of a child.

"Don't flatter yourself.” Naesala called out, his voice cutting through the gale effortlessly. "A Raven of Kilvas can carry much heavier cargo than a scrawny brat. Though, if you keep wriggling, he might just drop you. And if you fall and smash against the rocks, you won't have to worry about your explanation. You will simply become dinner for the gulls at the bottom of these cliffs."

Iruma instantly froze, clamping his jaw shut and going completely pale as the casual threat echoed in his ears.

The giant bird suddenly crested the top of the mountain, tilting its wings to slow down. They descended rapidly toward a massive, wind-swept stone plaza built directly into the highest peaks. Towering spires of dark rock rose toward the cloud-heavy sky, connected by high, arched stone bridges that defied gravity. Perched along the ledges were hundreds of Raven laguz, all turning their sharp, avian gazes down toward the human intruder as the guard landed soundlessly, dropping Iruma onto his feet.

The moment his shoes made contact with the solid, unyielding stone, Iruma let out a massive, trembling sigh of relief. His knees shook violently, but the simple comfort of having gravity working normally again allowed him to finally release the breath he had been holding.

The guard shifted back into his human form with another flash of green light, while the prince glided down gracefully beside them. He gestured toward a set of massive, iron-gilded doors guarded by elite warriors holding wicked, curved spears.

The young prince looked down his nose at the trembling teenager, his dark eyes flashing with a dangerous, expectant curiosity.

"You had better prepare yourself," he murmured smoothly, his midnight wings flaring just slightly behind him in a subtle, silent threat. "Let's see if that story of yours can keep your head attached to your shoulders."