34 Fly and sing

A girl was dejectedly sat in a small cell. She could not lean against the wall because her back hurt too much for it. She was clad in brand new green-colored clothes like the others locked up with her. They were all slaves.

She had never accepted her fate but after all her struggles, she was as far from home as she had ever been.

Her name was Celtine Estelli, she was supposed to be the next wind caller of the wing tribe. It was a position of great honor, comparable to the kings of the man tribes. The wind caller would sing for the skies to bring upon the tribe guidance and prosperity. Only the best voice could be recognized by the sky and be able to lead the tribe. Her parents had been so proud of her.

Like the name of the tribe would suggest, everyone had wings, long and powerful. When furled on her back, her own would reach the tip of her fingers if she stretched them above her head and the lowest feathers would tickle her heels. When open, their combined length spanned over three times her own height.

Like the rest of her tribe, her wings had the color of a mix between her hair and her skin. Her milky-white skin tinted her feathers pure white while her red hair gave the tips of her wings a fiery row of red feathers fading into pink. it was very unusual as most of the others had more earthy colors to them. This was why they had taken it as a sign she would be the next wind caller.

Every day, like it was usual for members of the wing tribe, she went flying around the territory surrounding their home. They had legs like most of the other tribes but mostly never used them. It was much more fulfilling to move with the wind and legs were too weak to give them speed.

Fly and sing, that was what she did, that was who she was.

She would circle around the woods, find a good place to rest her wings and practice her singing. There were many songs to remember but more importantly, she was not allowed to make a mistake. If a note was wrong, the message she sent the sky would be wrong as well, if the rhythm was wrong, she could fail to be heard entirely and if the tone was wrong, her intentions could be misinterpreted. The tribe would one day rely on her, she could not disappoint them.

To reach perfection, she sang every day, every time she was alone. Her life was filled by only two things, the flying she loved to do and the singing she loved just as much.

Then, one morning, she was flying above the trees like usual when a sudden powerful pain shot through her left wing. She screamed and looked over her shoulder to see. There was something stuck in it and she had a hard time moving. Then, a second spike of pain passed through the same wing and she lost her balance. Desperately flapping her right wing, she managed to slow down her fall and landed painfully on her knees at the only place she could find, in a small clearing.

Hissing through her teeth, she slowly moved her wing forward to have a better look. There were now two smooth and straight sticks poking out of her flesh, dyeing her feathers with blood. How did this happen? She reached her hand to remove them but before she could, she heard rustles around her and a large group of people from the man tribe appeared.

All of them were women, they wore beast leather and scale armor and most of them had crossbows. She understood then what had happened to her, she had been shot. Why though?

"Drats, I thought we had hit gold when I saw those huge wings but it's just a girl from those bird guys." Said one with braided blond hair.

"Even though they are weak, this one is pretty cute. I'm sure that if we bring her back we could get some money out of her as a slave." Proposed another one.

Back then, Celtine did not know the full extent of the man tribe cruelty.

"Please, let me go." She asked through her tears.

"No can do, we caught you we own you!" Said one of them.

"Are we really going to bring her back with us? We never dealt in slaves before." Said another.

"I guess it's kinda the same as usual, except we need to keep the target alive."

"Look, the poor thing is crying. I don't like it, we should just stick with the usual."

"Why not, it's not even human. It's a cursed-blood, that's no better than a beast."

"You're just angry at them because your hubby died in the thundering pass."

"But she is right though, if that girl-thing can earn us some silvers, we should just bring her."

The twenty women argued for a good while with each other, completely ignoring her own will. In the end, they decided to take her even though she asked to be released, they brought her with them even though she said she didn't want to go and made her walk even though she said it was painful.

She wasn't used to walking so her balance was bad and her wing could not close properly because of her wound so she got tangled up in branches along the way many time. Every time she did, she let out a pained noise but the women just ignored her and pushed at her back to force her to move.

They were no better than beasts. If they were not to let her go, she needed to escape instead. She couldn't stay with them after all, she had a duty to uphold. But how? If at least her wings worked properly, she would have a better chance. Right now, there were too many of them for her wounded self. She decided to wait for a better chance.

They brought her to a place where some more women were waiting around a bunch of tents and two cart. The vehicles were large and unwieldy, the first was almost empty and the second was filled with corpses of beasts and creatures, or at least, bits of them.

Once there, yet another women was tasked to fix her wing. She wore gray robes covered with pockets. Celtine was made to sit on the side of the cart while that new girl was checking her wing.

"We will heal your wound now but if you dare try to escape, I will cut them off instead." Said one of the tall girl that had brought her here from the side.

She let them heal her wing without a fuss but she would definitely try to escape once her wings were good. She had to go back home or the tribe would worry.

The other girl painfully removed the two bolts and applied some brown paste on them. She then turned towards the other and asked.

"Do I waste some magic on her or not?"

"Will her wings go back to normal if you don't?"

"Should be, the bolts just went through muscles, it will fix itself after a while."

"Then don't, I don't want her to cost us more than she will bring back."

Then, they forced her to climb in the cart filled with half dismantled beast and had her watched by two women while the rest finished dismantling their camp. They had caught enough in that hunting trip and with a prisoner to watch, it was best to go back right away.

She had to wait all day, sat in the death-smelling cart. She was scared but needed to wait, attempting an escape now was foolish. She suppressed her fear and withstood the curious gaze of the women until night came and they all slept. All except a few guards of course.

This would probably be her best opportunity to leave. her wing still hurt a lot but she felt that with a little bit of effort, she would probably manage to flee far enough to lose those from the men tribe. Even if her wings were white, once she was far away, in the dark, they would not be able to keep up with her. Finally, she had a big advantage. Even thought she was not yet the wind caller of the tribe, her songs held power, the winds would help her escape.

Once the night was deep and no one was looking. She rose from the spot she pretended to sleep at and extended her wings silently. With a flap and a small jump, she reached two feet above the ground and with more efforts from her wings, she slowly rose above the tents.

"Hey! The bird is escaping!" Called the first guard who noticed her. "Come back here!"

Of course, she ignored such a silly order. Now that her escape was underway there was no way she was landing her feet on the ground again. Instead, she plucked one of her own feather and offered it to the sky. She started singing "Protection of the wind". There was no point in staying silent anymore since they knew already what she was doing. Her clear voice traveled in the air, and with it, the wind swirled around her.

A bolt flew at her but the wind blew it away and it fell harmlessly on the ground. "What?" the guard exclaimed while a few of her companions got out of their tents. She was steadily rising by flying circles in the small clearing. Now, Celtine was almost up to tree tops, she plucked another feather and switched her song to "Call of the storm" to disturb them. She knew of more powerful songs but she was afraid of missing a note because of the state her mind was in. She was scarred of failing her escape, her heart was beating fast and sweat was freezing her face in the wind.

Her call stirred the winds, its speed increased, its violence doubled.

"It's a fucking storm witch!" Screamed someone bellow.

The women all scrambled out of their tents, sometimes not in time before they collapsed under the wind. Her own voice rose with the power of the wind rescuing her and while her wings brought her ever higher, she swiped her feeble hands at those far below her.

From her swipe, a giant gust crashed towards the humans and threw them around mercilessly. Only a few managed to stay on their feet, the rest were thrown at nearby trees or sent rolling around the campsite.

With this, she was convinced she had made it. Now higher than the trees, she just had to glide away to escape them. She was just about to do so when her left wing started to feel oddly heavy. What was wrong with it now? It felt like it was going downward on its own. Her right wing had to struggle to keep up and the pain she felt this morning came back to haunt her.

Desperate, she sacrificed a third feather and changed her song once more, she sang the most simple of all the songs she knew, "upward". It was more of a practice song to learn as a base for more complex melodies than a true chant but the effects of it were just what she needed. As her voice and pitch grew stronger and higher, the winds pushed her from bellow and kept her afloat despite her wrong wing.

Unfortunately, it took her too long, Since she had changed song, the storm had ended and by the time she managed to stabilize herself, new bolts stabbed into her wings, both the left and right. Her pained scream put an end to her song and it took all her focus to not break her neck in the fall that ensued.

She fell back down into the camp with disorderly flaps of her wounded wings and collapsed face first into the mud. She had failed, her heart was about to explode but she did not give up, she needed another song. The strongest she could muster, "Gouge the earth". She used her arms to painstakingly rise above the mud and tried to spit out the dirt invading her mouth in a fit of coughing. She had never tasted dirt before and it wasn't to her liking.

Before she could restore her voice, one of her arms was kicked away from under her with a 'Na ha' and she fell once more into the mud. She flapped her wings to move the attacker away but it just got tangled instead. After a quick struggle, the knees of someone landed on her back bellow her wings and on her neck to stop her from rising her head.

"No more song for you girl." Came the voice between her wings.

Celtine could not see but she felt like her wing was stuck in between the arms of the girl and her thighs.

"Your voice and songs sounds pretty I admit but I can't let you do it again, sorry."

She didn't sound sorry at all. Why would they not just let her go? She tried to hit her with her heel but did not reach.

"Good thing we had a convenient spell ready or you would have managed to escape."

More hands wrapped themselves around her wings and arms as she struggled to breathe through the mud. Finally, she managed to turn her head to the side and after a week breath, she saw her wing. Parts of it were covered by a layer of rock. The paste they had used as medicine had been turned to stone. This was the reason her escape failed. "Why?" she croaked through her crushed throat. Why must it be like so?

"What do you mean why? You belong to us, was I not clear enough before. You're just a cursed-blood you don't have the right to judge. Speaking of judging, it's time for your punishment. I told you I would cut them off if you tried to escape."

She wouldn't really do that would she? That would be like killing her. No one could possibly be that cruel.

"Wait, are you really going to do it?" Asked another girl. "I thought that was just to scare her."

"Well she clearly wasn't scarred enough now was she?"

"Could we not just tie her up with something instead? I mean, wouldn't it be like cutting off her arms?"

"Those aren't arms, they're wings. She already have two perfectly workings arms right there, why the fuck would she need wings as a slave anyway?"

Her wings tensed up from the way the talk went.

"I don't know, for scouting maybe?"

"You would trust that with scouting, she would just flee at the first occasion."

"I'm not a slaver, I don't know, maybe they have some sort of trick."

"Also," Intervened the spell caster. "If we do that, it's gonna cost us a lot of money to keep her from bleeding out. Those two limbs make up for more than half her body after all. I'm not an expert in cursed-bloods but there are probably some huge veins going through there like in a leg or an arm."

"Maybe you're right..." Grumbled the first one to the relief of Celtine.

At that moment, another girl arrived running to them from further in the camp.

"Hey guys, I hum... I don't know how to say this... I just... Noey's dead... She hit her head on a rock because of the wind and she's not breathing anymore. I think she bled out while we were busy."

Everyone fell silent.

It was her fault if that girl Noey was dead, wasn't it? But she didn't mean for it to happen, she just wanted to leave. Sadness filled the air until one's anger broke the silence.

"Fucking witch, you're paying for Noey that's for damn sure. I'm cutting them off."

She moved her legs to adjust her position on top of Celtine, letting her breath more easily, and unsheathed a large knife. Dread filled her mind and she blurted out apologies as best as she could.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

The knife kept moving.

"I really am sorry, please! I promise, I won't do it again!!"

The knife kept going. Celtine was more screaming than apologizing at that point, only fear remained in her head.

"No don't! Anything else, not my wings!! Take my arms! Take my arms instead, not my wings!! You can't!"

The others, unable to watch that, let go of their grip on her and all either walked further away or averted their eyes.

All her limbs started flailing about to escape. It did not matter if it hurt badly when she moved, it didn't matter if her nails were to fall off as she tried to scratch at the women on her back, she had to save her wings! Her fist punched the mud and her fingers clawed at the woman's coat. Her legs beating the ground relentlessly and her caught wing desperately struggling to escape or push back the woman. All the while she pleaded and screamed more and more incoherently.

"Nononono. I, please, you, no, stop, don't, my wings, monster! DEMON!! STOARGHHHH!"

The knife plunged at the base of her wing, ripping through muscles all the way to the bone. All the air in her lungs was expelled at once in a ghastly screech. Blood flowed out of the wound like a river and drenched her back and the pants of the woman.

"Where's the articulation in that thing?" Asked the woman, frustrated.

Celtine could not register her words, her mind was filled with nothing but pain and fear. There was no more begging coming out of her, only formless wails of agony. The knife was rummaging through the delicate flesh of her back, sending jolts after jolts of pain to torment her mind.

Unable to find the juncture with the tip of her knife, she decided to saw through the bone instead. All the muscles in her body tensed up at once and Celtine fainted halfway through another gargled screech.

The sweet relief of unconsciousness did not last long though as she was awoken by the same pain repeated for her other wing. The first thought she had was a powerful and simple 'no' that bloated her mind until it burst into incoherent, overwhelming agony once more. Her mouth opened again to scream but instead, she emptied her stomach in the mud nestling her head and passed out again.

She woke up into the corpse cart. She had not opened her eyes yet to see it but she could smell it easily. It was not the first thing that crossed her mind though. The first thing was an incoherent jumble of the tree words: painful, no and wrong.

First of all, she was lying on her side, her back was screaming pain incessantly at her mind and her arms were bound behind her back. It was probably to stop her from removing the gag they had shoved in her mouth. She had no idea what it was but it tasted horrible.

She tried to adjust her position by moving her wings\Wrong, this was wrong, it felt wrong, something wasn't as it should. Wrong, wrong, wrong! She started to panic, that pain, it couldn't possibly be true could it? She shivered and was instantly covered in sweat. She could not feel her feathers brushing against her skin... The simplest of thing, where was their warmth? This was what was wrong, it felt so impossibly wrong, it couldn't be true. She didn't dare open her eyes, she was deathly afraid of looking at her wings, she couldn't. But she had to!

Her chest rose and fell in rhythm with her running heart. She could still feel them, she could feel the pain running throughout their impressive span. They had to be there, they had too! They were just bound somehow. That was why they were hurting, they were stuck somewhere, maybe one of those demons was sat on them. This had to be it.

She took a long and deep breath made of dozens of panicked hiccups, and opened her eyes. The sun was blinding, she moved her wings to shield her eyes\ Wrong! Painful. Horribly painful. She looked behind her by twisting her neck and instantly closed them again. She had not seen them. Tears escaped her eyes. This wasn't possible, this had to be a nightmare. Maybe she had seen wrong, she hadn't looked hard enough, after all, she had closed her eyes instantly. She could feel them, feel them like her legs, they had to be there!

She gulped and forced her eyes to open again. They weren't there. They weren't there! There was nothing! She moved them, she could feel them, their pain, they felt like they were there, why were they not! She was swept by a torrent of sorrow and sobbing.

She struggled to get on her belly and moved her arms as best she could within her bonds to feel her back. They weren't there, where were they? What had they done to her wings! She could not feel them, they weren't there. Why! What had they done? She screamed of horror but through the gag, it only came out as a moan.

"She woke up, what do we do?"

"Nothing. Let her wail. What do you expect us to do anyway."

Celtine buried her face deep in the disgusting corpses of equally disgusting creatures to escape her reality. However disgusting they were, they would never be half as revolting as the demon that had taken her wings. Some pointy bits of the remains poked at her eyes from bellow but she didn't care at all. All she cared about were her wings. Without them, she was just as dead as the dismantled carcasses she lied upon.

Fly and sing, fly and sing, that was what she did, all the time every day. Fly and sing, that was who she was.

Without her wings, what was she to do? She couldn't go back home, couldn't flee, couldn't move. How did those crawlies even live without flight? Without wings, she couldn't be the wind caller, who would follow a wingless wind caller? What feathers would she even entrust to the sky when she wanted to be heard? She screamed and screamed, but every last one of them devolved into pained sobs.

Who would love the wingless her? She had the prettiest of feathers but with them gone, she had nothing left. Why did they not take her legs instead, or her arms, or even both? As long as she had her wings, the tribe would help with the small things, she wouldn't be that much of a burden. But, without them, she was nothing. It was just the same as killing her!

Why not kill her then? Why must she suffer like so? What had she done to the sky to be so punished? Her wings were so painful, why must they be so painful if they weren't there? Just make it stop. Please, end it, someone kill her.

After an hour more of incoherent thoughts and tears, she wished nothing more than for someone to knock her out. Anything to escape this painful nightmare. Sadly relief never came.

At some point in her endless wails, they dragged her out of the cart. They tried to make her stand up but she didn't put any strength in her legs, she didn't even make the effort of opening her eyes again. Grabbing her by her armpits, they dragged her some distance away from the cart and sat her down somewhere. They untied her arms, undid her gag and placed her hands around something round and warm they left on her knees.

"Here's your food, you should eat it."

What for? She thought. This would just prolong her torment. What was the point? She did not even feel hungry, she just felt pain.

"If she doesn't want it than too bad for her, just let someone else have it."

Her eyes opened in a flash, she turned her head to look at the source of the voice. She knew that voice, she was the one who took her wings. She glared at her, her whole soul was burning with hatred.

"Even if you look at me like that, you're not scary at all with all the snot dripping down your face."

It wasn't said in a mocking tone, nor in a condescending one, not even hatefully, she was just stating a fact. Celtine used her wings to wipe her face clean. Wrong! Wrong, wrong, WRONG! She had no wings and it was all her fault! The bowl she held flew out of her hand and right at the woman's face. Celtine went right after it, darting from her seat like a bolt. Her fangs were made to pierce the skin of hard shelled fruits, surely they were strong enough to rip her soft throat open.

Alas, she did not reach her. Without her wings, she did not have any sort of grasp over her own balance and just fell flat on her face midway between their seats. All her will escaped her with her fall and she started crying once more from the grassy ground. She didn't even attempt to get back up.

She did not know if her bowl had hit its intended target or even what was in it. All she knew is that it was pointless.

Many pair of feet gathered around her while she cried. "My wings." she whined in between sobs. "Give me back my wings."

"Even if we did, there's no way we can place them back where they were." One of them said.

"It's already a miracle I was able to keep you alive." Said the voice of the magician.

This was not a miracle, they were the ones to blame for this to begin with. This was just torture. The demon rose from her seat and crouched next to her head. She knew it was her even without raising her head.

"Look, I know this isn't really helping, even less since it's me but, at least you still have all the main bits. You still have your arms and legs, you can have a normal life still. You could even pass as human now, isn't that a good thing?" (1)

"But they hurt!" She complained. "My wings hurt."

"What does she mean her wings hurt?" Asked someone on the left. "Does she mean the stumps? Did you mess up your heal somehow?"

"No, the wound is fine. I think she's feeling a phantom limb."

"What is that?" Asked another.

"Sometimes, when someone lose a limb, they continue to feel them as if they were there."

"Ho yeah, I know a guy who spend all his time in a pub. He says that sometimes, the sole of his foot itches even though he lost it thirty years ago."

"Why are you even familiar with a one legged guy that's twice your age?"

"More importantly, how is this even possible and how do you fix this, she's been crying since she woke up."

"My master said that most mages think it's because the soul refuses to retract into what is left of the body and part of it stays were the limb should be. Since it's not supposed to be outside of your flesh, it mostly just feels pain. I don't know of any way to fix this, no one does. Either it's going to fix itself or it won't, there is nothing I can do to fix a wound that isn't even there."

"That's horrible. Tacey, you may have sentenced her to a life of pain."

"Wow, thanks guys, you really know how to lift the mood." Said the demon, Tacey. "You know what, I'm not hungry anymore either."

Just like that, she left the vicinity.

"Come on, I didn't mean it like that! I meant to pity her not judge you."

Celtine continued to cry for days after that. They would put her gag on and off to give her food but it took her three days before she touched any of it. She did not want to eat it but she didn't have the strength to ignore her hunger any longer. She didn't really know what she wanted.

She wanted for the pain to stop and she wanted her wings back but the second was impossible she knew and the first could possibly only be solved by death. She didn't mind dying but since somehow she wasn't able to stop herself from eating, maybe there was a reason for her to be still alive.

None of the things she planned to do in her life were possible anymore but, she could still sing. Sing and fly, sing and fly, that was what she did, that was who she was. If she could control the pain in both her wings and her heart, she would be able to sing again. She would not be able to sing for the sky again but she could sing for herself. Yes, just singing, that was all she needed. She would sing the pain away, sing to make her heart fly free. The dead could not sing so she needed to live.

In their long trip back to the man tribes, after she found the will to live, she tried to stand up many times when they were bringing her out of the cart but she just couldn't. She was always falling forward, how did the no wings even do it? The human women thought she was acting dumb at first but after days of struggle without any improvement, they changed their minds.

She also continued to cry a lot, it was the only thing to do. The pain in her wings was stopping her from sleeping unless she tired herself out and since she was bound and stuck in a cart of corpses, the only way to tire herself was to cry. She could have tried to sing as well but they would not remove her gag for anything else than to let her eat or drink. They did not seem to know that without her feathers, she could not call on the winds and they were scared she would take revenge on them.

She really did want to take revenge on them, more accurately, revenge on Tacey. She wanted to call lightning on her but she couldn't, she wanted to rip her apart with her fangs and nails but was too weak to do so. There was nothing she could do against her.

"You know, about Tacey." The driver of her cart told her one day. "I don't think it will make you feel any better but she feels really bad about what she did to you, we can all see it."

"Why are you even telling her that?" Asked the girl sitting beside the driver. "We fucked up her whole life and we're about to sell her off to some merchant. She not going to forgive us. Why waste our words on that cursed-blood."

"I just feel like at least she should know why it all ended up like that. Even if not for her, I feel like this is going to haunt me forever if I don't say it."

"Fine then, whatever."

Celtine listened to her words in silence

"So, Tacey. She can be a little aggressive sometimes but usually, she can be reasoned with. She had to become a death seeker after her husband got killed in a battle against other cursed-bloods, she had a daughter to take care of after all.

She joined out team and everything went well until now. since there was no one to take care of her daughter, she always brought her with us while we went hunting. That girl was some kind of charm to us you see, we all raised her together. She was really good with a crossbow as well, Noey's the one who hit you with a bolt first that day."

Noey was a name she recognized. She was the one who died. If she was the one who hit her first, then she was the girl with the braided hair, and, she was the daughter of the demon.

"I don't know if you remember that but she died when you tried to escape. You said you didn't mean to and I believe it. it was just a stupid accident, everyone knows this. I know it, you know it, the other girls all know it too, even Tacey knew. Aside from her, the worst we had from your wind was some scratches. It's just bad luck really, it just happens sometimes.

But Tacey, she couldn't take it, for the cursed-bloods to take both her husband and daughter she treasured, right in front of her nose at that. I think she just snapped. At first, the plan was just to scare you senseless, we never thought that you were a witch and that Noey would die. Since we were talking about cutting off your wings, even if we never really meant it before... I don't know, maybe it made sense for her. I don't know for the others but I couldn't watch so I left.

I wanted to stop her too but, what was I gonna say? Don't cut the wings, she is more valuable with them? What kind of mother would listen to that with the killer of their child right at their mercy? I would like to say I would be able to hold off but I really don't know.

Now it's done, there is nothing more we can do. We can't bring Noey back and we can't bring your wings back either. All we can do now is try to make some coins out of this mess and try to forget it all. It's not any kind of excuse but, at least now you know."

"There, do you feel better now?" Asked the other girl.

"Yeah, thanks."

The driver was right, Celtine could not forgive them. None of this would have happened if Noey hadn't shot her in the first place. The pair had destroyed her, she would never forgive them.

(1: She seems ridiculously insensitive but, it's just that for a normal human being, if they were to grow wings all of a sudden and someone asked them if they would rather lose the wings or the arms, I'm sure they would all agree that losing the wings is better since they were living perfectly fine without them. One would even say that they are unwieldy and in the way.)