Eyass

This was a bad idea. Bolero knew, as Indigo’s mouth turned down into a frown, that nobody had seen her leave. He was amazed that she had even been able to manage leaving the Kettle and Eyrie without anyone noticing. He would have been impressed if it didn’t possibly mean both of their lives could now be in danger. Something had magic strong enough to reach through the ancient wards, protective magic that had been in place for centuries. Magic specifically meant to keep Ancient magic-seeking beings in the forest from ever entering or influencing their home. Regardless of what happened once they entered the forest, none of this bode well for their people.

The two fell into an uncertain silence again, the heaviness of the fog weighing on them. Bolero studied the grotto before them, the long tunnel of ancient trees. He knew that these woods hid many secrets, dark, old creatures that the Eyrie had fought frequently in the beginning of their existence. The layers of fog seemed to swirl and dance on the slight breeze, as if being pulled into the forest. As if beckoning him.

Bolero…

Resigned, he motioned to her to take a step back. She had his father’s dagger, however it wouldn’t prove very useful for the creatures they were likely to run into here. He had to use whatever magic he could.

“Indigo. You will tell no one of this,” He spread out his hand, willing his flame to appear, to focus. A brilliant orange and gold blaze appeared from his palm. Slowly, it straightened and focused, folding in on itself until it formed a single tendril of flame. Reaching back, he plucked a shining copper feather from his nape. He gritted his teeth, placed the plume in his flame-and enfolded the feather with it until he held a solid sword. The blade itself was black as onyx, save for the dull glow of embers that occasionally flared brightly. His hand tightened on the jet-black hilt, shaking with the effort.

Al Saif nari, or the sword of fire, was a testament to his true mastery of fire-magic. Only the most elite of flameweavers could muster and focus their magic to forge a sword. As far as he knew, only Bolero and his family’s long line of fire-hawks had ever mastered this skill. If Altairi and the other leaders discovered how adept his magic truly was, he would likely be assigned to teach combat magic, or worse, be forced to become an Eagle Guard. He adored and respected Altairi and the eagles. They were, after all, the spiritual leaders and great protectors of the Eyrie.

However, Bolero didn’t belong trapped in a temple, or resigned to the Kettle. Or teaching eyasses how to make fire. He lived for the skies, and for the hunt. He could think of nothing worse than entrapment for the rest of his existence.

Indigo watched, her eyes wide, and her brows creasing.

“Bolero, why would you keep that a secret?” She asked, her voice hardly more than a gasp.

“The paths I tread should be my choice, and mine alone,” Saif in hand, he thrust his chin towards the forest. “It’s time to go.” He could almost smell Indigo’s fear. “This is your last chance,” He walked through the tunnel, enshrouded in impenetrable fog, shaded by the darkness of the canopy, “If you choose to follow me, there’s a chance you won’t come back to the Eyrie again. Ever.”

Whether from dying in the Nithra, or from banishment, he thought, but best not to tell her that.

Indigo hesitated behind him, then he heard her soft footfalls. The golden bell in his hair jingled softly as the two walked together, disappearing into the mist and an unknown future.

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“Bolero!” Indigo’s footsteps sped up once again to keep pace with him. He sighed.

“I’m not slowing down,” he said. “You can either keep up, or turn back.” They’d hardly made any progress so far. The Merlin’s inexperience was tenable. No one at home had ever taken her training seriously. Bolero regretted letting her accompany him.

“Again, I’m not turning back.”

“Suit yourself.”

A beat of silence. More rustling as Indigo shuffled forwards to catch up to him.

“So, Bolero,” Indigo panted beside him. “Why, exactly, don’t you want anyone to know about the…” She gestured towards his sword, still glowing and flickering, a torchlight in the foggy wooded paths. “Your…”

“Saif?”

“Yeah…shafe…”

Bolero snickered at her butchering of the pronunciation. “We can just call it a sword.”

“Ok, then, why do you insist on keeping your glowing fire sword a secret? You could earn your surname with that skill alone.”

“I already explained.”

Indigo, practically jogging to keep up with him at this point, rolled her eyes.

“Well explain better. I would want all of the Eyrie to see if I had an awesome glowy flame sword. I might even yell it out to the Sidhe—“

“Enough. Don’t you say their name in these woods.”

Bolero stopped in his tracks. Teeth clenched, he glowered at Indigo.

“I want to be absolutely certain that you know where you stand with me right now.”

She shrunk back from him. Eyes wide, she shook her head.

“I don’t think I want to know.” Her voice was soft, laced with melancholy.

Bolero’s temper flared within him. He pushed on.

“You are just something else to worry about right now. An extra burden, a liability with no magic, no fighting ability, and no—“

“I already knew all of that,” Indigo’s voice broke, “You don’t think I’m aware of how useless everyone at home thinks I am? You don’t think I hear the whispers as I pass by? They question my heritage, Bolero. I am the only falcon who can’t connect to my magic.”

“Yes, and none of that changes the truth. Which is that you shouldn’t be here. Especially without any actual training.” His gut churned at the tears falling down Indigo’s cheeks.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

The merlin sped up her pace, and passed him on the trail.

“Indigo! What are you doing?”

“I’ll never understand what Azura sees in you!” She yelled, and sprinted forwards and out of his sight.

That damned merlin. By the Eagle! I should just let her go.

It would certainly be less of a burden to shoulder.

Yet…he paused for a moment, pulse racing, and laid a hand on his chest. Empty. No matter how much fire lived within him, there were times when Bolero’s chest felt hollow. As if instead of a beating, living heart, there was nothing there but a void. He clenched his fists and took off sprinting after Indigo. If she ran off too far, she wouldn’t make it out of the Nithra alive.

It would be his fault. His failure would lead to her death.

I can’t let Azura lose her cousin. She would never forgive him.

Catching up to the merlin would be easy. He was faster than her; they both knew it. Years, now. Sometimes it felt as if they had played tag games just yesterday, even though it had been at least twenty years. Azura, Maeby, Indigo and Bolero –even Badru had spent hours chasing each other on the wing as children. Azura always won, of course. The Falcons usually won in flight.

But not on foot, Bolero reminded himself, and sped up his pace. Saplings and the lichen-covered older growth blurred by him as he ran, leaving the well-traveled game paths to enter the deeper brush. The forest fell silent as the older growth began to tower over him, the metallic scent of the mist becoming increasingly nausea-inducing.

He had to find Indigo, and he had to do it soon.

“Indigo!”

Silence was the only response, as was the sound of his own footsteps as he broke branches and young trees beneath his gait. He cringed at the sound.

If there’s a way to anger the spirits here- and the Sidhe, if they’re nearby…crushing young trees is certainly it.

“This isn’t funny, Indigo. This isn’t a game, we aren’t children anymore. You’re being dangerous, there are likely harbingers here!” Despite the steady buzzing of crickets and cicadas, the usual stir of wild game scattering from his presence, the old growth forest was eerily still.

Sunlight hardly cut through the canopy here, wreathing the underlayers in dappled darkness. Lush ferns filled the space in between the larger trees, dusty spores floating in the pillars of light scattered throughout. The further he traversed, the more he noticed that there were occasional remnants of stone walls, scattered signs of a civilization that had once blossomed here. Adrenaline laced his blood as he gently ran a finger down a mossy, weathered stone… or perhaps there was still civilization here, shielded by magic.

“Indigo!” If he did find her after all, perhaps he’d just kill her himself. “Indigo!” The cicadas buzzing swelled and increased in volume in a cadence that irked his every nerve. The incessant singing, the merlin’s insistence on accompanying him -he couldn’t be certain which was worse. Beneath the anger and the layers of annoyance at Indigo’s intrusion, however, was worry.

Concern for a friend.

Guilt, that his words, spoken out of anger, had run her off.

Something rustled in the nearby thickets, low-growing, thorny blackberries. He tensed, the feathers in his hair sparking with cinders. Whatever had led them here drew its magic from a different source than the Eyrie. He could almost taste it, a scent similar to age-old moss on a log. Like petrichor, or the cavern system hidden beneath the Eyrie Halls.

The sudden change of scenery was too-abrupt- the air hung heavily with that unfamiliar magic, rich with brilliant colors. He neared the thicket as it vibrated, for a moment wondering if Indigo had somehow managed to wedge herself into such a place. But no -the branches were too close together, and the thorns would be too much for her.

A shadow burst from the thicket in a blur, so fast that even his shifter eyesight could hardly comprehend the movement.

“Wait!” He yelled, running in the direction the strange shadow had fled.

And then there were no thick brambles, no lofty willows or birch trees.

Only an open clearing, and a crystalline pond. Blue flowers decorated its shores, their sweet aroma drifting to him. In the midst of them all stood Indigo, a flower held delicately in her grasp.

The air rushed out of Bolero’s lungs in a relieved sigh at the sight of her. Whole. Uninjured. He surveyed the glen as he moved to stand beside her-the azure flowers were a strange species, one he’d never noticed before while out hunting. The water was clear, pure. An insect landed on its surface, only to be snatched by a fish within seconds.

Indigo turned to him slowly, holding the flower out so he could see it better. A small orb flickered within the plant’s core before floating upwards and moving to hover over the rippling surface of the pond.

Wisps… His hackle feathers raised in alarm, as several more lights floated from the flowers and spun around Indigo. As if they were observing her. She glanced at him and smiled. They cast a brilliant light on her face, a chaotic mixture of vivid blues.

Sprites, known to mislead travelers in the Nithra, but only if they disliked them.

“They’re beautiful. I’d heard the stories, but I thought they only appeared to the fae blessed. They only appear to people they like.”

Bolero moved swiftly to bar her path with his arm. He shook his head at her with a scowl. Eyasses…

“Stop. Don’t.” The orbs continued to move, to pulsate with an energy he had never seen before. Something within his chest- a tightness in his heart-told him something was very wrong.

“They’re just wisps, Bolero.” She said, a smile in her voice. “Just light spirits.”

“They’re a species of fae, and there is no such thing as a fae blessed Eyrie shifter. They don’t like us. We are opposites. Our peoples cannot coincide.” Before he could stop her, she reached around him, and towards the sprites.

A wisp, noticeably smaller than the others, landed and nestled itself in her palm, like a contented songbird, rather than an ageless underling of the Sidhe tribe that inhabited this forest.

Strange. Seeing a wisp during hunting expeditions was rare enough, but for one to choose to land on a shifter? Bolero watched as the light spirit sat unmoving in the young merlin’s hand.

The Sidhe tribe abhorred the Eyrie, had warred with them before his parents’ lifetime. If legends were to be believed, they had assisted in the attack on the Temple so long ago. An attack that led to the creation of the Eyrie’s enemy, the Void falconers.

“Indigo, make it go away. You need to shoo it away.” Bolero’s gut churned. His nape feathers flared, small neonate fires sparking in his palms. His blood boiled, his muscles tensed.

All at once, the clearing began to change around them. Stone walls, moss-covered and ancient, came into view, mist-like before solidifying into their physical forms. Mounds- odd structures coated in diverse plant life, sprung up from the ground. The air again smelled like soil, moss, and the underbelly of the forest paths.

“Indigo!” Bolero’s eyes widened at their altered surroundings. “Indigo! Make it go away! Get the wisp out of your hand!”

The walls surrounded them, leaving a weathered archway of stone as the only visible way out. His eyes darted around. Had they somehow been transported to ….A village? A fae settlement?

Why?

Bringing Indigo along had been a mistake. One that might end with both of their deaths, or if they survived, with their banishment from the Eyrie. He could almost see Altairi’s sad smile, Nadine’s crimson gaze piercing through him as they told him to take flight and never come back. If they really wanted to, they could even seal him in his human form, ground him forever.

A sudden surge of magic-the ice, same as from the Kettle- chilled him. Bolero drew his saif, and pivoted to face the direction the strange cold had come from. There was a disturbance on the surface of the small crystalline pond. The small blue orbs scattered, as if out of fear.

A high-pitched kyaaaa, a saker falcon’s screech, familiar yet alien and strange, was his only forewarning before a large shadow dove at him from above, talons outstretched. Besides him, he heard a familiar scream-Indigo- and turned to see if she was still in one piece.