A Court of Wings and Fate

1. Ambitious Goals

    Of course, it was only early summer and the Rite was months away. Still, she wanted to know that she'd be allowed to join it. She'd been working her entire life to prove herself ready for the Rite. Over the past century, she'd trained nearly every day with her brother and cousins. None of them had been allowed to join the Rite yet. Devlon always said it was because they weren't ready. Well, she'd prove herself ready, at least.

    Estelle rushed at Nyx but he caught her blow. He sidestepped and opened a wing in time to stop her own. They began trading blows rapidly, mixing in wings and limbs in addition to their weapons. Estelle's breath came in short gasps and her arms and legs shook with exertion. Nyx was also winded, although slightly less so.

    From the sidelines of the ring, Corbin and Lysander hollered encouragement to Nyx. Estelle shot them dark looks and the shadows posed menacingly above her shoulders. They fell silent at once.

    "Come on, Essie. Why don't you just yield?" Nyx jeered. Sweat beaded along his brow.

    "Why don't you?" She snapped. "Come on, Nyxie. Yield."

    "Don't call me that."

    "Don't call me Essie." She slipped beneath Nyx's arm but he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back.

    "Why don't I have a nickname?" Corbin hollered from the fence.

    "Well," Nyx huffed as Estelle rammed her elbow into his gut. "We could call you Cor."

    "Or Corbs," Estelle added.

    "Or Bin," Lysander laughed.

    "Like a garbage bin?" Estelle called. She grunted as Nyx managed to land a blow between her wings.

    "Focus, Essie."

    She rolled beneath his next attack and popped up. Nyx rounded on her. Estelle flared her wings out and shadows sprang to action around her. They shrouded the planes of her face in darkness and poised to strike atop her wings and shoulders.

    Nyx faltered, taking half a step back. "Cheater. I said no shadows," he grumbled.

    "They haven't done anything," Estelle replied.

    "They're trying to make you look intimidating."

    "Is it working?"

    Nyx lowered his gaze briefly. "Yes."

    She grinned. "Good." Estelle moved towards him, but Devlon landed in between them.

    "That's enough for today," he said. "Get yourselves cleaned up and go home."

    "But we don't know who won," Estelle protested.

    "Neither of you won." Devlon fixed his harsh hazel eyes on Nyx. "You are the future High Lord. You do not balk or cower in the face of danger. You can't let your fear get the best of you." Nyx's cheeks heated with embarrassment.

    Devlon faced Estelle once more. "And you seem to have trouble abiding by the rules. They are there for a reason, especially in training. I expect you to learn to restrain yourself."

    Lysander and Corbin were already running from the training ring. "And you two need to learn not to give up so easily!" Jorah hollered after them.

    Estelle crossed her arms with a sigh. "I'll work on it," she promised. "Have you given any more thought to my request?"

    "No, you won't be participating in the Blood Rite this spring," Devlon answered shortly. "You aren't ready."

    "But I am! I know I am! I've managed to best every opponent you've given me! I know how to analyze a battle and organize troops to give us the best outcome. I know how to fight and follow orders."

    "You're too impulsive, hotheaded, and easily distracted," Devlon snapped. "If I let you enter the Rite now, the odds of you surviving are very slim."

    "But I wouldn't die! I want to become a Carynthian!" Estelle glanced at Jorah. "Like you, my aunts and uncles, and my father."

    "And someday you will become one," Jorah promised, "but not until you're ready."

    "I've been training for over one hundred years for this!" Estelle protested once more. "My Aunt Nesta and her friends only trained for a year before they participated in the Rite."

    "They were brought into the Rite without my consent," Devlon replied. "And they're lucky they made it out alive. The Rite was rigged, weapons were hidden around the base of Ramiel, and Nesta was able to access her magic somehow."

    "If they made it, so can I."

    "No. My answer is final."

    Estelle met Devlon's dark gaze, feeding anger into her own. At last, she shouldered past him. Her brother and cousins were already out of sight. Jorah followed Estelle at a healthy distance.

    "You'll get your chance," she said gently. "I remember how eager I was to earn my place with our warriors."

    "Devlon just doesn't want to see me succeed," Estelle spat.

    "No, he doesn't want to see you fail. He doesn't want to see any of you fail."

    "Well, the longer he holds us back, the more our confidence weakens." Estelle leaped into the air before Jorah could say anything more. She flew away from the war camp, then let the shadows carry her to a place of refuge.

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    Mikael bent over his book, locks of brown hair falling across his eyes. The library was silent, save for the occasional rustle of wind through an open window. Mikael shifted his feathered wings into a more comfortable position and resumed reading.

    He was studying a new text that told about the War with Koschei. He'd heard all about the war from his fathers, of course, but this book gave the accounts of numerous different people. Some of the accounts were even from Humans who had been turned into creatures by the Cauldron.

    He was always trying to understand things from the perspective of someone else. You could never hear one account and have the full story. He knew all too well what could happen because no one bothered to learn the truth.

    His own people judged him based on a one sided account. Mikael was the son of Thesan, High Lord of the Dawn Court, and a Peregryn female, Samanya Anik. Supposedly at the time of his conception, his fathers had separated for a short while. Mikael was born shortly after the War with Koschei, when Thesan and Ameer had already repaired their relationship.

    His mother died during the birth and Mikael was given to his father. Thesan accepted him as his son and heir, and Ameer accepted him as well. Mikael didn't know if his arrival had caused any issues for his fathers. They never mentioned it and he never brought it up.

    Despite his parents' acceptance however, the denizens of the Dawn Court were hesitant to acknowledge Mikael. They saw him as a bastard and a halfbreed. Someone like him had never been the High Lord of Dawn before. Mikael was doing his best to prove his worth to his people, but his best never seemed enough.

    The library doors creaked open, drawing him out of his thoughts. Ameer gave him a small smile and jerked his head towards the door. "You'll be late for training if you read any longer."

    Mikael inclined his head and closed his book. Ameer waited for him in the doorway. Mikael joined him and the two of them headed towards the nearest balcony. They spread their large white wings and leaped into the air, flying towards the Peregryn training grounds.