Winged

Chapter Zero: Frederick and the King

This chapter is dedicated to Rain who designed the awesome cover that probably got you to read this book. For all your cover-designing needs, check out her page: xoxocookiegirlxoxo

Frederick could already see the Sky Castle through the morning fog. The shops were beginning to open as he and his father headed to the gates. The warm aroma of freshly-baked bread covered the streets and enticed the few who were already up to grab a loaf, but Frederick was unaffected; his stomach hardly mattered at that moment. Though his father's legs were longer than his whole body, Frederick outpaced him through sheer excitement. He had wanted to go inside the castle for so long, but his father had never let him.

Frederick's father was the royal advisor. He went to the castle every day but never took his son with him. But that day was different. It was Frederick's eighth birthday, and his father had finally changed his mind. Now the two of them were walking through the city together, headed to the gigantic white building in its centre.

Frederick had seen the castle from the outside many times, at least once a day for as long as he could remember. He had spent countless hours admiring the majesty of its white walls as well as the multitude of towers, some of them so high the king might be the only one able to reach them. The ornate gates were always open to the people. He almost asked his father to stop, so he could properly take in the beauty of the garden, but he knew the king was waiting.

The pair passed through the gigantic front door and entered the throne room, following the path laid by a long red carpet. Frederick smiled; he felt very important walking across the carpet, especially considering he was the only one standing on it. Everyone else, guards and nobles, servants and commoners, flanked the carpet, curious to see the advisor's heir.

But the closer to the throne Frederick got, the less interested he was in his surroundings. One person commanded his full attention. Sitting on a gold, blue, and silver throne, dressed in a blue jacket and cape, was the king.

And even then, Frederick barely looked at the king himself. Only later did he notice the long brown beard, a rare feature for his kind, or the sharp black claws that protruded from his fingertips. No, from the moment he entered, the only things in the room that captured Frederick's attention were the wings.

Vast, snow-white, and slightly intimidating, the king's wings were possibly the most fascinating things Frederick had ever seen. Each was about a metre long and strong enough to allow a large man like King Ellius to soar through the sky. Frederick had heard of them before, but it was the first time he had seen a birdman.

The king stood up from his seat and calmly walked towards him, breaking Frederick's hypnotic trance. The king's arms were raised in front of him and there was a big, comforting smile on his face.

"Falbert!" he said, greeting his advisor. "Good to see you again! And I see you brought young Frederick with you."

Before the royal advisor could reply, the king turned to the stunned boy beside him. His Majesty offered his clawed hand for Frederick to shake. He hesitated; he had heard of the power of a birdman's talons. The baker once told him they were strong enough to rip through iron, while her husband said they could slice through diamonds. Frederick didn't know which version was true, but both materials were stronger than his skin. King Ellius noticed his hesitation and laughed, retracting his claws, revealing a normal, human hand.

"Hello, my boy," the king said, his smile broadening. "It's good to finally meet you. It's your birthday, is it not? Happy birthday!"

Frederick was too nervous to utter a single "thanks". This didn't faze the king at all, as he let out a thunderous growl of laughter at the lad's shyness. His father, however, didn't seem so pleased.