The Council began stripping feathers from the little girl’s wings in a downpour of shimmering white. The child couldn’t have been much older than twelve turns old at the most, her wrists bound and face shoved against the wooden planked platform.
The men held her pinned down under the weight their booted feet as they ripped away feathers in fistfuls and cast them into the pool of energy. TsuYa’s gruff voice rose and fell in a timed intonation, words foreign and guttural. His hands were upraised, orchestrating it all with a twisted, uncharacteristic smile.
SoYa felt sick. Face painted with absolute revulsion, he grasped the balcony rail, knuckles white from rage.
TsuYa! Why are you doing this?
Finally, all that remained of her wings were bloody flaps of flesh a limp sticks of cartilage rising from her shoulders. The child’s sobs were unbearable.
“Look at her! Look at the evil that has twisted this child’s body into this unnatural form!” TsuYa’s voice echoed across the hall, drowning out the soft weeping of the child. “She was just like you and I once, until the Baneful powers changed her into this!”
SoYa shook his head vehemently.
No! There is nothing evil about that girl!
The crowd continued to watch with hushed apprehension.
Why don’t any of you do something? Just because he’s wearing the High Guide’s robes doesn’t mean he’s right!
“We will completely purge this afflicted child,” TsuYa slowly lifted his hand. As he did, the girl rose from the wooden platform, floating in mid air.
Her white hair was 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 slender frame. Blood ran freely from where the magnificent wings once grew, dripping into dark pools upon the dais.
“It is only in dividing 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 room, all eyes stricken. No one was able to move.
“TsuYa, please… don’t do this…” the whisper shifted between SoYa’s lips.
TsuYa’s eyes were a dark, frigid green, his face set in a lifeless expression. He slowly opened his palm as if to drop an object from his hand. A frightened whimper rose from the child before she plummeted towards the gaping pool below.
SoYa found himself running back down the stairs, taking them in leaps and bounds. As he raced for the dais, his mouth opened in a tremendous bellow. However, his call was drowned out by the sudden rocking ground under his feet.
A dazzling flash of white blinded his vision as a churning nebulous of pure light erupted from the center of the hall. SoYa stumbled back, one hand held up to shade his eyes from the brilliance. A shimmer of star-fall rained down on upturned faces, the warm radiance reflecting from the Council’s emerald eyes. There, in the center of the light, a person appeared.
SoYa squinted, blinking away the water in his eyes. As the light diminished, he could make out not one, but two, people.
The pool of white energy was gone. Floating above the spot where it had once been was a woman. Her hair billowed gracefully in every direction. Her face glowed with an internal light, features softened and ageless. 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.
Within her arms she cradled the motionless body of the little girl.
Relief spread through SoYa’s chest as the winged woman landed on top of a table, far away from the platform from where the Council members stared. As her feet touched down and the warmth of the light faded from around her, a shocking familiarity appeared on her features.
What? Aunt SaRa!
SoYa felt his breath catch 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 frightening sort of way. As the illusion shattered before him, SoYa could feel his whole world tipping and breaking away.
TsuYa was also staring, a blank darkness deep within his eyes. Aunt SaRa met his gaze with unwavering challenge. SoYa shivered. 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 he thrust one finger straight at Aunt SaRa, his voice shaking the entire meeting from their dazed trance, “Take them! Both of them!”
SoYa didn’t realize he was running until he was dodging around toppled chairs and long wooden tables. No plan. No thought. Nothing in his mind except for the reeling impossibility of it all.
The group of Council members at TsuYa’s back did not hesitate. It seemed to mean nothing to them that the woman was a beloved mother to the School community. That her works of kindness had reached out to every child that had ever passed through the gates.
But is she still the same?
SoYa faltered, catching his breath. He glanced up just in time to see the group of men approaching with raised hands. A cold light trickled from their fingers in a threatening, pulsing glow.
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.
As flame erupted from the Apprentices’ palms, she did not even flinch.
SoYa felt a scream bubble up in his throat. He flung himself forward, bounding on the table next to Aunt SaRa. Teeth bared, eyes narrowed, his own power leapt from him.
The flame died instantly as the men reeled back under the tremendous force of his mind-will. Their eyes fell devoid of thought, 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 around them. Their bodies lurched backwards as if under a tremendous weight. SoYa knew he held them within his absolute control.
TsuYa’s face grew ashen as his eyes lifted to meet his brother’s. His voice traveled the distance between them, sounding like it was 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. Something about it felt terribly dirty… terribly wrong…
Am I just as evil as those who would burn someone with flame?
The Apprentice staggered back under the condemning stare of his brother and the gaping, fearful eyes that fell upon him. The men on the platform collapsed as he released them. They remained lying, puddled and will-less on the wooden floor.
“Athrylith,” TsuYa’s hissed accusation shattered his heart.
A soft hand dropped on his shoulder. At the touch, his world shifted, focused, and cleared. SoYa lifted his eyes to meet the gaze of the winged woman.
“Do you plan on staying here?” Aunt SaRa asked.
It was a simple question. Yet, in the answer, he knew, his life would be completely changed. Hesitation froze him. He realized she was asking the same question that the sparrow at the Host Gate had.
~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 cracked.
“Then let’s not linger.”
SoYa nodded and helped her down from the top of the table. His eyes turned towards the silent watching Council members. Those nearest to him flinched back as if he might hurt them by sight alone. No one dared to move. Not even TsuYa stirred from beneath his father’s robes.
Taking the weight of the broken child from Aunt SaRa’s arms, SoYa lead the three of them at a dead run out of the Meeting Hall.
