Feathers

A King Falls

Each Avian plucked a feather from their wings and held it high above their head, waiting until they felt the gust caress their hand before letting it slip out of their fingers.

"You are the wind that carries me," each murmured, watching as their feather joined all the others and floated away from the people out towards the cliffs to the west, twisting in the currents coming in from the ocean. The light of the sinking sun caught the multitude of colors, from the high class Psittacus Avians with their flamboyant displays of blues and scarlets, the yellows and oranges of the Chlorion, to the muddy browns and creams of the Wrens.

Bain pulled one of his longer feathers, wincing at the pain, and released it, his shoulders sagging as it spun away. He hoped it would follow the others, but it seemed to stay just on the edge and pull away, striking its own path west down the steep slope of the hills the city was nestled in toward the forest.

He turned his eyes upward and softly asked, "Why did you do this, Victor?"

Victor's wife, a Feral, had passed away not a year before, shot with an arrow by a mercenary. Her wounds had been fatal and her soul had been eager to fly back to the endless sky and beyond. Victor could not forgive himself for failing to protect her and the weight sat like a yoke upon his already burdened shoulders. He had gathered his most elite to avenge her death, his fury burning hot as they struck out into the Wildlands like dark comets all aflame with a determination to get their revenge. They not only succeeded in locating and killing her murderer, but continued to hunt down others of their kind. It was the only solace that Victor could find, the only thing that kept his mind away from his guilt.

But it soon became obvious that, without his beloved, he was actually searching for death, a way to be with her again if only in the afterlife. He went out on his own, in the night when no one would notice, searching for any rogue or villain that might plague his land or endanger anyone else he held dear. Madness drove him more than grief, a beast who would continue to fight because his mind covered the pain of a severed limb. He cut them down with abandon, a vigilante high on blood lust. Of course, word soon spread among the outcasts and they were not inclined to let any more of their kind fall to any single man.

Only last night, he had gone out once more and was ambushed by Eaters, a band of cannibalistic Avians, barbaric in nature, that consume the remains of their defeated enemies. Victor had been beaten to the point of death, his arm and leg broken with crushing spiked clubs. He had narrowly escaped only because his men had been out searching for him. They rushed him back to the castle, but the healer, Simon, was only able to buy him a bit of time. Bain could still see his face, sunken, when he had come out of the room into the hall where he had waited. That slow shake of the head had made Bain nauseous; his brother was dying, his wounds too traumatic and those were the ones that could be seen.

In a daze, Bain had pushed the door in, moving into the room dimly lit with candles and filled with the pungent odors of poultices and antiseptics. Victor lay upon the bed, his torso propped up with pillows, his extended wings slack and touching the floor, his feathers sticking out at wrong angles or broken. His leg was a pulp above the knee and his arm hung by a few strings of flesh and muscle, blood still running out of the open wound that was his chest and throat. Bain found his eyes, reddened by the pain, his skin yellow and drawn tight under a sheen of sweat.

"Bain," Victor said, though it was weak and raspy. "You will take care of Strix won't you, brother?" His eyes were desperate and pleading, barely able to focus on the figure before him.

"Yes," Bain said, but only his mouth moved.

"I'm dying."

He could not make himself lie and attempt to convince him otherwise, nor could he bear to say that he knew the statement was true. With his lips pressed firmly together, he clenched his jaw and barely tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"I'm so sorry." Victor's lips quivered and tears spilled over, running down his pale cheeks.

Bain stumbled to his side and fell to his knees, pressing his stomach against the bed as he took Victor's good hand in his. He knew that his brother was going to leave him soon, they both knew it, and the desperation on Victor's face was evident.

"I should never have gone out there, Bain. I wasn't thinking...I wasn't thinking about...I am so sorry, I can't...I don't..."

"Shh....It's alright, Victor," Bain whispered, staring at his shaking brother through the tears that welled up. He could not wipe them away for fear that in that moment, Victor would die.

"You are going to be the king now, Bain. You have to do what you feel is right, not what you think it is, what you feel. Don't do what I did. Don't be impulsive and selfish. Be strong...you are strong, Bain." Victor squeezed hard and his eyes drifted up toward the ceiling, his breath becoming ragged.

"Victor?"

"You are the king now," he bit out. "But I will be here."

Bain could only nod, fighting to keep his face from betraying the utter panic that had constricted around his heart and lungs. How could he lead so many people by himself? Victor had made it look so easy and now, he was going to leave Bain. There would be no big brother to watch over him, guiding him, and making sure he did not make mistakes.

The thought of being left completely alone, with no parents, no brother, terrified him. The room seemed to close in on him, crushing him with the weight of responsibility and it made him clutch Victor's hand tighter as if to pull him away from the reaching shadows.

Victor could not leave. Not now.

"No," Bain whispered, his voice trembling. "Don't go." He pled desperately.

There was a brief moment of pity in the king's eyes, more regret, before pain overcame him. Bain watched Victor gasp, hearing the blood in his lungs and saw his eyes turn glassy. The pressure Bain's hand alleviated and his brother's shoulders loosened and dropped. For a brief moment, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips and his brows rose as though he saw something far in the distance, beyond the room in the castle, and it gave him joy. Then his breath left his chest in a long sigh and Bain knew that he had gone to it.