They were stripping her feathers in a huge downpour of shimmering white.
The girl couldn’t have been much older than twelve turns old at the most. She was bound hand and foot with her face shoved against the wooden planked platform. Held pinned by the weight of the men’s booted feet, her cries were high-pitched and keening. Tears streamed from wide, child eyes, face shattered in remorse and terror.
On her back, a pair of downy white wings spread up towards the sky. The group of Apprentices was ripping feathers from her wings in fistfuls and tossing them into the eerie pool of energy that hovered before the dais. In the middle of it all, TsuYa’s gruff voice rose and fell in a timed intonation. The words were foreign and guttural - something that made the skin prickle. His hands were upraised, orchestrating the horrible scene. A sickly smile was spread across his face.
SoYa felt as if he was going to be ill. Face painted with absolute revulsion, he grasped the window sill with knuckles white from effort and rage.
He was shocked when they had brought the child forward and ripped away the heavy draped cloak to reveal the wings that grew from her back. The first sound that came from the audience was one of frightened astonishment. Even at a distance, the child’s gaze had gripped SoYa’s spirit. Something within both recoiled and sought to reach out. He wanted to embrace the sudden, mysterious call that rippled through his soul.
Then with a great proclamation, they had shoved the child face first against the platform.
SoYa finally turned his eyes away. Still, he could not escape the pitiful, pleading cries.
She’s just a girl, TsuYa! Just a girl! What are you doing?!
Finally, there were no more feathers left to wrench away. All that remained were bloody flaps of flesh pulled taunt by the limp strips of cartilage rising from her shoulders. The child’s sobs were unbearable.
“Look upon her, Apprentices! I call you to look upon the evil that has twisted this poor child’s body into such a hideous form! What repulsive power could have done something so unnatural to a child?” TsuYa’s voice echoed across the meeting, drowning out the soft weeping of the child. “She was just like you and I once! Until Baneful, mutating powers changed her into this!”
SoYa shook his head vehemently.
No… There is nothing evil about that girl… nothing evil about what she has become. If anything, it feels as if she is more true to what we should be than we are ourselves!
The crowd continued to watch in a hushed apprehension.
Do something! Why don’t any of you do something? There’s only a small group of them and a whole School of us! Is this what you want to let our teaching become? Just because he’s taken up the High Guide’s robes doesn’t mean he knows what is right!
A low moan escaped SoYa’s throat as he struggled to make sense of it.
Oh… Tsu… what have you done! Why… why…?
“And now to completely rid this afflicted child of her misery…”
TsuYa slowly lifted his hand. As he did, the child rose from the wooden platform, floating in mid air. The girl looked as if she had endured weeks of vile treatment. Her white hair had been cropped very short, sliced away as was the custom in handling prisoners from the old days. Only a loose-fitting, dingy white robe covered her malnourished frame. Blood ran freely from where the magnificent wings once grew, dripping into dark pools upon the dais.
“Look upon her and remember this evil well. It is only in death, in the dividing of spirit and body, that she may be purified…” TsuYa slowly stretched his hands away from his body.
The wilting child floated forward until she hovered directly above the swirling pool of white energy. A chilled hush fell over the watching students, all eyes stricken. No one was able to move.
“TsuYa… please… don’t do this…” the whisper shifted between SoYa’s lips, great anguish on his face.
TsuYa’s eyes were a frigid green, his face set in a lifeless expression. He slowly opened his palm as if to drop an object. One frightened whimper rippled from the child before she plummeted towards the gaping pool below, “Curan!”
SoYa found himself lurching forward and springing over the sill to the ground. His mouth opened in a bellow so tremendous that it was hard to think one so small could make such a sound. However, his call was drowned out by the sudden swelling of the earth under his feet.
A dazzling flash of white sliced through his vision, leaving SoYa momentarily stunned and frozen. A churning nebulous of pure light erupted from the center of the meeting, flowering out into a prismed pulse across the sky. SoYa stumbled back, one hand held up to shade his eyes from the blinding brilliance. A shimmer of star-fall rained down upon upturned faces, the warm radiance reflecting from hundreds of emerald eyes. As the emanation began to fade, a form appeared in the midst of the light.
SoYa squinted, blinking away the water in his eyes and forcing them to focus. As the light began to diminish, he could make out the shape of not one, but two people.
The Apprentice drew in a shivering breath, mouth dropping open.
The pool of white energy was gone. Not even a trace of it remained. Floating above the spot where it had once been was a woman.
Her hair billowed gracefully in every direction. Her face was lit by an internal light, features softened and youthful. Robes of silver and sky blue fluttered around her, trailing in streams through the air. A pair of silver-tinged wings spread from her back, folded outward in a motionless elegance to embrace the afternoon breeze.
Within her arms she cradled the weak and immobile body of the child.
Wha…? Who… who…?
SoYa’s eyes were bugged out of his head. He had never seen someone so beautiful, so serene… so perfectly harmonious. It almost hurt to look upon her. But he could not have pulled his gaze away even if he had wanted to.
A trickle of relief touched spread through him as the winged woman drifted to land on top of a nearby outcropping of stone, far away from the platform from which the Apprentices stared. As her feet touched down and the warmth of the light faded from around her, a sudden shocking familiarity rose in her features.
What?!
SoYa did everything he could not to cry out.
Aunt SaRa!
He felt his breath catch in his lungs as he gawked, eyes tracing over the small motherly woman that had raised him from his younger years. Somehow she seemed different… different from the strong but caring face he had grown to love… different in a terrible sort of way.
Illusion shattered before him.
SoYa could feel his whole world tipping and breaking away. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
TsuYa was also staring, a blank darkness deep within his eyes.
Aunt SaRa met his gaze with unwavering challenge.
Condemnation. Shame. Loathing.
Their eyes battled in unspoken rage.
SoYa trembled. He had never seen his aunt look truly angry before. And he certainly didn’t like to see it now.
A snarl broke over TsuYa’s face. Then with one hand he thrust his finger straight at Aunt SaRa, his voice shaking the entire meeting from their dazed trance, “Fiends! Take them down! Both of them!”
SoYa didn’t realize he was running until he found himself dodging over and around bits of tree roots and stones along the slope of the ground. No plan. No thought. Nothing in his mind except for the reeling impossibility of it all.
Has the world gone mad!?
The group of Apprentices at TsuYa’s back did not hesitate. It seemed to mean nothing to them that the woman that stood before them was a beloved mother to the School community. That her works and love had reached out to every child that had ever passed through the gates.
When you cut yourself, even the slightest of scratches, Aunt SaRa was there to bandage you and give the wound a kiss.
When you found yourself lost and straying too far from the town’s edge, Aunt SaRa would be the one to find you and bring you back… with not so much as a word to those who would punish you for it.
When you were sick, she’d bring you soup. When you were crying, she always had a cookie and a big glass of chilled mastak. She told stories at bedtime if you were afraid of the dark. She patiently scrubbed your face if you had come back dirty and battered from a fist-fight in the streets.
That was the Aunt SaRa that he remembered…
But is she still the same?
SoYa faltered at the base of a stone, catching his breath. He glanced up just in time to see the group of approaching Apprentices raise their hands. A cold light trickled down from their fingers in a threatening pulsing glow.
No… this is not what our power was given to us to do! TsuYa! How could you order this?
The winged woman stood motionless. Her green eyes fixed unblinking upon the men — especially upon the one robed in midnight blue. Her arms held fast to the cradled form of the girl. Blood ran in sorrowful streams down the front of her silver robes.
Aunt SaRa! Aren’t you going to do something? You’re not just going to stand there and let them…
As flame erupted from the Apprentices’ palms, she did not even flinch.
SoYa felt a scream bubble up from his throat as he flung himself forward, bounding atop the rock next to the winged figure. Teeth bared, eyes narrowed, his power leapt from him unbidden. The flame died instantly as the group of Apprentices reeled back under the tremendous force of the will that unexpectedly descended upon them. Their eyes fell devoid of thought or control, mouths growing slack-jawed as they wavered, barely retaining their footing.
He could feel it. The desperate flutter of their minds as his own closed in — like tiny bugs fighting a useless battle for freedom from within his palm. A sick sensation gripped him as he felt their spirits choke at his touch. Their bodies lurched backwards as if under a tremendous weight. SoYa knew he held them within his terrible, absolute control.
TsuYa’s face grew ashen as his eyes lifted to meet SoYa’s.
There was little doubt that if no one else understood what was happening, his brother could. TsuYa’s voice seemed to travel the distance between them, sounding as if it were right next to him, “SoYa… have you done this? How..?”
SoYa’s hands trembled as he fought to retain his concentration. Never before had he released his power over anyone else, much less let even a trickle be shown beyond the knowledge of himself and his father. Something about it felt terribly dirty… terribly wrong…
Am I just as awful as those who would try to burn someone with flame?
The Apprentice staggered back under the condemning stare of his brother and the hundreds of gaping, fearful eyes that fell upon him. The men on the platform collapsed as his power released them. They remained lying puddled and will-less upon the wooden floor.
“Athrylith…” TsuYa’s accusation shattered his heart.
SoYa felt himself choke on the unshed tears.
A soft hand alighted upon his shoulder. At the feeling of the touch, the world shifted, focused and cleared. Suddenly the hurt and fear drew away, leaving him both dull and alert. SoYa lifted his eyes to meet the gaze of the winged woman above.
“Do you plan on remaining here?” she asked.
It was a simple question. Yet, in the answer, he knew, his life would be completely altered. Hesitation froze him. It was as if she was asking the same question as the sparrow at the Host Gate did.
~Young SoYa… do you think you are ready to know the Truth?~
He lifted his hand to her. And she took it.
“I have no choice now,” his voice was cracked with anguish.
“Then let’s not linger.”
SoYa nodded and helped her down from the top of the stone. His eyes turned towards the silent watching crowds. Those nearest to him flinched back as if by sight alone he might harm them. No one dared to move. Not even TsuYa stirred from beneath his father’s robes.
Taking the weight of the broken child from SaRa’s arms, SoYa lead the three of them at a dead run out of the Meeting Grounds.
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