Verana was almost kidnapped as a child, but the only reason she wasn't taken was that of a little human boy. . . a little boy she's all but forgotten.
Now, being the Volucris princess that she is, Verana has duties to care for and expectations to me...
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Music is Cavendish Lab from The Theory of Everything. Play it!
Her skin was damp with sweat and her throat was parched. It felt like she couldn't breathe anymore, and perhaps that was why she woke up.
Verana's eyes shot open and before she could comprehend anything, she screamed, her legs forcing themselves under her. Her eyes frantically searched the darkness before her as she quickly backed up. A shockwave went through her mind, working to figure out what her eyes were seeing. She stepped onto her dress and one of her knees gave out, causing her to fall.
Her face hit the floor and she groaned, clamping her eyes shut. Planting her palms down on the cold and dirty surface, she rose into a sitting position. She dragged her fingers across her cheek so as to remove the grime but only succeeded in rubbing more dirt onto her greasy face.
She flapped her wings and suddenly cried out, curling in on herself. She groaned as her fingers shook. Verana wanted to flex her wing; she wanted to believe that the pain was just a cramp. But it hurt too much.
They had broken her wing. She wouldn't be able to get home. Warm tears slid down her cheeks, soft sobs falling from her lips. She attempted to move, but every little movement sent lightning strikes of pain through her wing.
Inhaling sharply, something got caught in her throat and she coughed. Water. Her body needed water.
Slowing rising to her feet on wobbling legs, she gritted her teeth as her head throbbed. She realized that she couldn't even hold the wing, all strength seeming to have disappeared.
Verana wrapped her hands around her left wing, holding it in her arms so that she could move freely. It still hurt, but she didn't make any sudden movements so as to keep the pain bearable.
She positioned her free hand in front of her, lighting them with her power. The room around her was indeed filthy, like her face, and straw littered the floor. Black, metal bars met her eyes from across the room and she carefully walked towards it, reaching her hand outside of her prison.
Her shock increased as her light brightened the cells around her. They were all filled with. . . humans. Her eyes widened and her fingers lost all strength as the people inside reached out for her, clawing at the air as if they could take her power. "You shouldn't have let yourself get captured, little volucris," they said and she screamed, backing away from the bars and allowing her power to diminish.
Verana pushed her nails into her scalp, the exhaustion she didn't know had been slowing creeping up on her since the moment she woke up finally catching her off guard. She resisted the urge to scream once again; to cry in vain; to curl up and block out the world. But that wouldn't get her anywhere, she would still be in the same place. That could not happen.
