My mother flew us at sunrise. I couldn't help the self-pity that devoured me as she did so. What was I if not able to fly? I still had my wings out, but they did nothing. The feeling of them waving helplessly in the wind was excruciating. I was nothing. A failure, damaged.
"We need to walk," my mother panted, dropping us down into the trees again. My knees felt far too weak as she set me down. I'd slept and then was carried off in her arms, my muscles too cold from lack of movement.
Our trudge through the snow and trees was silent. The only sound was the crunch at our boots and the wind dancing high in the thick trees. I felt so angry. We could've been several villages away by now, but I was useless. My mother hardly strained her muscles in the past decades, there was no possibility that she could carry me again today. I could see it in the way she tucked her arms beneath her cloak, gloved fingers working the muscles.
My boot caught on a snow-buried root, making me stumble forward. My hands flew out, catching myself on the rough bark of the pine in front of me. I shoved back, grunting out my frustration.
I'd slept in a world of positivity. I think it had to be seeing Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand the day before. I dreamt of being in Azriel's arms, his lips on my skin. I dreamt of my mother, brother, and Azriel and Cassian all at a table together, sharing drinks and meals as we laughed. It was of another world that I could not yet feel. Then I awoke to the reality of running from who I was meant to be. Dreaming of that and then walking through a cold forest with my mother was feeding into my already building anger.
"We need sustenance. We should only be about half a day from the next village on foot. We will get ourselves a meal there and continue on," my mother spoke softly from my right. I nodded, tucking my chin into the neck of my coat. With the now cut fabric, the chill was reaching my skin easier. Only half a day. We'd already be there if I could fly.
The walk was torturous. My lack of nutrients from the past weeks had me needing to lean against trees to catch my breath. I'd drop to my knees and place snow on my tongue. My mother, despite her own frail form, was not breathing heavy nor needing to stop to cool her burning muscles. It was yet another reason I felt weak.
The sun was above our heads by the time I smelled chimney smoke. My mother and I shared a look as we walked through a clearing of trees, met with a slanted field of cows. I tried to remember which village it was, which one was of more farming than training, but I could hardly remember which direction we walked in.
My body ached, thighs numb as we walked past the cows and towards a large barn. A winged male was forking hay and throwing it into a wheeled barrel, eyeing us suspiciously.
"What you up here for?" His rasped voice called. I looked to my mother, proud of the way she lifted her chin and folded her hands in front of her.
"My daughter and I are looking for a place to rest and eat a meal. How far is the village?"
The male leaned against the pitchfork, jaw working as he looked us over. I was sure we were a mess. I could tell my hair had fallen from the braid my mother had put it in earlier in the morning.
"Village is down those rocks and past the bend. Where'd you come from?" His eyes moved to me as he gestured to his right.
My mother stiffened, snow creaking beneath her boots.
"My daughter and I are meeting family over East. Her wings have been clipped so we are walking most of our journey," my mother answered tightly. I didn't like how much information she was giving him. He could use it against us. I was powerless while he could do just about anything to us.
"Have a safe journey," the male huffed out, giving us both one last look over before turning back to his stack of hay.
I could hear my mother's shaking sigh as she reached for my arm and tugged me. My eyes stayed on the male as I stumbled along with her, hay and snow sticking to the laces of my boots. His wings tucked tight, he looked over his shoulder at me. My heart was pounding.
There was a warning in his eyes, I swore it. The way his brows tugged together, his lips pursing as he stabbed the stack of hay. There was disappointment there... Or perhaps pity. I didn't turn away from him until my mother hauled me around a bend.
"He was strange, wasn't he?" Mama asked, slowing her steps as we met a cleared road.
"He was," I answered softly, unable to shake the chill beneath my skin. I looked beyond the bend in the trees and road, seeing the chimney smoke I smelled. It was a small village- larger than the last but not quite as big as Windhaven. There weren't warriors here, but the elder generation that could no longer fight and chose to farm, or those who decided they didn't want to fight at all.
Mama tucked her arm in mine and practically hauled me to the cut road that lowered us into the small valley. Log homes and businesses were scattered through thinned trees, pine needles coating the mud and snow. I hadn't noticed us lower in the mountains, but it was warmer here. Illyrians moved throughout the streets, hardly casting us a glance. I let out a slow breath and tugged the coat tighter at my front, turning my eyes down.
Through the low hum of distant voices and boots crunching, my ears perked at the sound of water trickling. I turned my head to the left, realizing we were at the village that sat at the mouth of the Sidra. The river stretched from our mountains and fed throughout the court. It was the longest river in Prythian; and we were at the start of it. My pulse picked up, excitement thrumming at the thought of being so close to something I knew to be in Velaris.
"Here we go," my mother muttered softly. I looked up as she turned us, seeing a small cafe snuggled between two markets. My stomach twisted with hunger at the very thought of food. Warmth spread over our skin as we walked in; a roaring fireplace to the far left, mostly empty tables throughout. A few patrons lifted their heads from soups and sandwiches, giving a nod before returning to their meal or conversation.
A heavy female stepped out from a doorway, wiping her hands with a cloth.
"Have a seat. We have a few options. Pine nut soup or a beef stew. We also have a beef and cabbage sandwich," she called from the counter. My mother hauled me to a vacant table and urged me to sit.
"We'd both want the stew. Could we also have a warm tea?"
The female hummed before turning back into the room she'd come from. I tapped my fingers on the table, glancing around the small room. It lacked decor, a hand drawn mountain hung near the door and a dull painting of cattle near the kitchen. My eyes turned to the steamy window, heart lurching when I saw the male from the farm walking past. Had he followed us? Three cloaked figures followed not-so closely behind him. They lacked wings, which wouldn't be strange despite the fact that we were in the heart of the Illyrian mountains.
"Here you go, dears. Where you from? Never seen two pretties like you in here."
My head spun as I looked up at the female. She was grinning, looking between my mother and I. A mug of steaming tea sat in front of me. I busied myself by taking it into my hands and testing it's warmth.
"We are just traveling to meet family," my mother said sweetly, taking a spoon to stir honey into her tea.
"You look exhausted. Are you traveling far?"
My mother briefly met my eyes before shaking her head. "No, no. We decided to take a slower journey to enjoy the mountains. It's been a long while since either of us have been out."
"Well, enjoy the tea and I will bring your stew."
I sipped the herbal tea, focusing my eyes back on the window. The cloaked figures were gone, as well as the farmer. I couldn't help but feel like they were dangerous. Something felt incredibly wrong.
Soon enough, the female brought us bowls of stew. I blew softly on the spoon before bringing it to my mouth, eyes fluttering at the roast on my tongue. I felt better with each broth-filled bite. As I soaked the final drops of broth with a toasted roll, belly full and skin warm, I thought perhaps my hunger had bled into fruitless anxiety.
My mother remained quiet as she ate and drank, eyes scanning the room. As we both leaned back, cloak and coat pulled open to rest our hands on swollen bellies, the female returned to our table.
"How was it?" She asked with a bright smile.
"Delicious," my mother cooed as she pulled coin from the satchel hidden beneath her cloak. She laid it on the table before leaning forward.
"I'm glad to hear. Will you be staying in the village a while or continuing your journey?"
"We will be continuing. Do you have a shop that sells skins? We lost ours a ways back and I heard the creek running not far out. It'd be nice to get water," my mother asked.
I tuned them out, focusing on my heavy breaths. The jumping in my nerves returned, drew sour in my stomach. Something felt so wrong.
"Let's go, my girl."
I nodded slowly, rising from my seat. My mother took my arm and called her goodbye to the owner. As she planned, we went to the shop down the street and purchased skins to fill at the creek.
My boots slid on the melting snow as we walked to the forest edge to where the creek grew larger. Ice gleamed in the sunlight along the bank as I lowered to fill my skin. The hide stretched but held strong. My mother tucked hers beside me, telling me she needed to relieve herself in the trees before turning and walking off. I tucked my skin in the satchel at my shoulder before beginning to fill my mother's. There was a moment of peace, the river mouth trickling softly, birds calling from high in the trees.
I should've known better than to grow comfortable.
"Freyja! Run!"
My mother's terrified scream had me dropping the skin with a shuddering gasp and turning. Horror seized me as I saw one of the cloaked figures from earlier gripping my mother's hair. Terror in her eyes, her mouth opened to scream at me again, but... Oh, Gods, the cloaked figure took a blade to her throat. The sheer force as he slit her throat cut her to the bone, head snapping from her shoulders.
I heard a scream. I heard my scream. Bloodied knife dripping, their hand shoved the cloak back. Aled. The other two came out from behind him. Aled grinned at me as he pulled my mother's head back and threw it at me. Another scream tore from me as I stumbled backward, ass aching as I fell into the creek. My mother's head splashed beside me, her open mouth filling with water as she began to float down to the larger river.
The other two began to run. My body didn't listen to my mind as I scrambled to my feet, slipping on the snow as I tried to run past the bank. It was happening too fast. I just needed a chance, I needed to get my footing.
Snow and icy water burned my hands as I began to run to the trees. I wasn't sure if it was my tears or the creek water that burned my cheeks. Panting sobs left me with each step. I didn't make it far, though. Another scream tore from me when a hand gripped my hair, yanking my head back so hard I swore my scalp tore. My knees hit the ground, chest heaving as I cried.
Emyr's face appeared above me, a wide grin on his face. It was something so horrid, I feared the thought would follow me into death.
"Say hello to your mother for me," he sneered.
I screamed- I thought I did. What I felt was a sharp pain at the left of my throat. I couldn't breathe. I could've sworn I felt the cold darkness, but it may have been a trick of a dead mind. What I knew was that it was an unfortunate thing to taste freedom, to taste love and hope, and never see it come to bloom. That cold comfort was an ode to my efforts, a small blessing that it was over. A fight I would've never won, though I wished for the chance to love fully, to know a true family.
Such a beautiful thing to live with love; such a sad existence without it.