Winged

~~8~~

"No!" She cried, wrapping her arms around Cyrus, pulling him to his feet with all her strength. Her heart raced. "Come on, we need to get out of here!" She shouted against his ear.

Rage. Fury coursing through her heart. She would not let Cyrus be hurt anymore, especially by her past.

"I can't.... You go," he panted. "Silva, go. Fly."
"Not without you!" She stumbled, his shoulder against hers, trying to reach the tree line, but clods of exploding sand blinded them with every futile step they took.
Heat. Fire. Scalding her skin, daring her to turn around and face her demons square in the eye. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"Silva, stop," Cyrus pleaded, pushing her out of the way of another fiery missile. "You must go, now! I'll try to hold them out a bit longer."

"I will not go without you!" She glared at him with pure determination in the set of her jaw. Beyond his shoulder, she could see them, leaping into smaller vessels, pulling their way to the shore, closer...closer to the sand. Closer, bows and arrows in their hands, raising them to take aim. "I will never leave you behind."

She wrapped her arms tightly around his chest, her face pressed against his shoulder blades, her tears tracking down his scars.

Then she listened.
She listened to the insults. She listened to the mocking. To the sweet words her only friend had used to whisper. Silva listened to the angry shouts, but drowned them out with Cyrus' gentle encouragement.
You'll get stronger.
Just trust yourself.
Listen to your heart.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
The arrows whistled past her ears, the flaming stones brushed the tips of her feathers, and the screams of hatred echoed across the beach; but she was no longer listening to those things. She already had before, and was now channeling the anger and injustice into something new.

Something Changed.
Strength. Wings.

Beat. Swooosh. Beat. Swooosh. Beat. Swooosh.
Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

Cyrus' heart reverberated against her ear, whispering words of belief into her heavy and churning mind. She could do this. She could make it over the mountains.

Caaaw, caaaw!!
The shrieks startled her eyes open. Birds. Flying beside her. Black crows, their perfectly arched wings gliding through the air alongside her. Shiny black feathers. Beautiful wings.
Beat. Swoosh. Beat. Swooosh.

Hers matched the beat of her heart, the thump of tenacity, the whispers of love. She rose higher, holding onto Cyrus with everything she had, not daring to look down for fear of old feelings rushing up, their claws extended to snatch her out of the sky. She would not fall now. She'd fallen enough times in her life.

"Silva! We're nearly there!" Cyrus exclaimed over the whistling wind, the cry of the crows, and the hammering of her heart.

He was right. Like he always had been.
The choppy seas passed by beneath them and a new coastline transfigured through the white sheets of mist. Green rolling hills. Outstretched fertile plains. Sparkling blue seas that shimmered like polished gems in an emerald setting. Her eyes ached with the beauty of it all.

Her eyes ached, but not her heart. Her heart was exploding with joy and excitement and an emotion too wonderful to explain.

Her toes sank into softness as she landed them gently on the warm sand, her pulsing wings enveloping them both for a brief moment in a warm cocoon. She'd made it.

Cyrus turned around and embraced her in his strong arms, his body warming her weary and shaking frame, his lips brushing the top of her head. "We finally made it here. The Isle of Yahweh."

"Yahweh!?" Silva's eyes widened at the sound of the ancient name, and she stepped back, searching Cyrus' chiselled face. Her heart accelerated and vibrated all the way from her chest out to her fingertips. This could not be good, because within the space of one heartbeat everything turned from serene to shaky. "The chief Curer?"

"The Creator of Change," Cyrus corrected, a peaceful smile tugging on his lips.

Her breathing quickened, the scene shifting in front of her. "Why did you bring me here?" Why was she making this such a big deal?

He frowned, "Silvana, what's the matter? There's nothing to fear—He's safe."

She blinked her eyes, clearing the images in the front of her mind; images of talons and hate and cruelty and the throaty growls of monsters. He was responsible for those changes. "Are you sure?" she held up her arm, faint marks left by the hands of her tormentors.

Cyrus held it gently, pressing his lips to the scars. "We must all decide what to do with the heart He gives us."

She hung her head, the beat thumping in her chest slowing down, calming with the heat from Cyrus' soft kisses. Tingles ran up and down her skin, her scars the epicentre of the tiny earthquakes. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes from his lips.

"I always believed you could do what I could not," he lifted her chin. She was forced to meet his cerulean blue eyes, endless stretches of oceanic depths she suddenly wanted to explore and get lost in.

"You had no choice. They took your wings," her quiet voice barely carried in the calm fresh air. "Your Change means nothing."

"No. They didn't change my new heart. And they can't ever take that away from me."

She breathed deeply of the floral fragrances that floated around them, and sighed. "So what now?" For once, she was safe and hadn't the faintest idea what to do with herself. Blankness. No fear. No heartache. Just a white canvas on which to paint her next story, her dreams, her visions of what life could be like.

"I have a brother somewhere inland beyond the plains. I will go find him, maybe offer myself to the service of the Creator."

She nodded, a part of her praising and protesting his answer, his choice. "That's good," she gave him a glimmer of a smile. "I hope it goes well." She stepped away and turned, heading for the swaying branches of the seaside flora that sprouted from the life-giving soil.

"Silvana? Where are you going?"

"Oh, I'm just...I'll just find someplace to live. Something to do," she shrugged her shoulder, a thousand words swarming in her head but nothing sensical pushing their way to her lips.   Her smooth feathered wings hung neatly folded against her back, a testament to the control her contradicting heart and mind now had over her Changed abilities.

"You aren't coming with me?"

Did he want her to? "I...I don't want to be a bother anymore," she said hesitantly.

He couldn't mean he wanted her company, her presence as he journeyed to his new life. He was just being polite. She continued walking, leaving him standing by the crashing surf and shifting sands.

"You said you'd never leave me."
His steady and masculine voice called out over the coastal sounds, spearing their way into her heart with a poisoned tip of hope. She stopped dead still, paralysed by the potential meaning.