Beauty is an affront to an exceptionally ugly world- One that she must fight to save for fear of history repeating itself.
~~~
Cloak draped around her in just a way that it sagged and exposed the rounded tips of her crimson wings, she walked back home in a daze. Running away had been an impulse and now she'd have to pay the consequences. It took two hours, maybe three at most, but she didn't know the exact time. The sun was setting; and that itself was a clear indicator that she should return to her safe abode where agony awaited her.
Two miserable hours passed just pondering what her mother had in store for her. Rejecting an offer, when she was positive she'd never be given the chance, was stupid. So foolish, in fact, that she was sure the suitor would no longer be waiting for her when she returned.
She squeezed her eyes tight when remembering the words that caused her to flee.
•••
"Eledorah!" Her mother's sing-song chipper voice worried her more so than the strange man sitting at the table with her. "Auroran, this is my daughter Ele that I told you about. She comes of age in just a few days."
The man stood from where he sat, vibrant red wings peeking out from behind his warrior arms that could likely crush a man's skull. He circled the petite girl, making her feel like a stranger in her own kitchen, sinking her into the tile with only a glare.
"I'll mate her, despite her broken voice. Only to continue the redwings." He sounded self-assured in his declaration. As if doing a charity deed.
•••
Those words, and her mother's thrilled expression, are what made her instantaneously turn heel and bolt for the door. Neither were fast enough with words nor actions to stop her. With her being much younger, she managed to sprint out of sight before they could even make it outside to see which direction she went. They knew it would be a waiting game until she came crawling back, accepting his offer.
Now that the streets were dark, these people that fed on the sun were retreating indoors. Dim lights hung outside scattered homes were the only thing offering guidance. These streets were mapped in her mind without a flaw, however. She knew every shortcut and darkened alley, navigating it practically blind.
Something felt out of place. Her wings twitched as her breath caught in her lungs. Intruders. Their scent stood out and scorched her nostrils with a putrid scent- Alcohol. A tainted beverage that few faenixes consumed in fear it'd send them into a stupor that would leave them defenseless.
The chatter of men echoed down the alley she found herself in. She had to hide quickly before they turned the corner and discovered her. Whatever beings they may be, their eyesight was likely better than hers since no full moon illuminated the sky.
So she backed up until she felt the edging of a garbage bin. There was no time to waste fitting inside the thing- It'd make too much noise and it was filled to the brim anyway.
Instead, she ducked behind it and lingered there, crouching uncomfortably with her wings scraping the stone siding of the building behind her. Their footsteps grew louder, as did their voices. Apparently, they were not concerned with remaining hidden. That crossed a few species off her list of suspects.
Who, or what, would be dull enough to stumble drunk into a powerful city crawling with faenixes?
The answer became obvious when the footsteps she heard sounded more like a trot. Satyroids. And ones with strong lineage, if they still had their hooves. Decades of cross breeding had weaved out that trait amongst many.
Here they were, gallivanting the streets of Sol Pago, without the fear of encountering a faenix. They better be able-bodied or else they had a death wish.
"Wait." One of them gruffed.
Just as she thought they had passed based on the sound of their slow trot, she peered out from behind the bin to check. Except her timing was impeccably awful. As it turned out, they had just been passing the head of the cross alley where she hid. The sound of their voices ricocheting off the interlocking stone walls of the back streets made it difficult to pinpoint their exact location and had been detrimental to her calculations.
Eledorah snapped her head back against the wall and tried to mold her body into the stone, wishing to disappear.
"There. Right there... Am I crazy or do you see it too?"
Trying to control her panicked breathing, she pinched her nose to steady her nerves. Then she noticed what he must have- A few stray feathers at the bottom of her left wing were sticking out beyond the metal bin. Moving them now would certainly give away her position, so she remained motionless in hopes they would brush it off as molted feathers.
"That's literally nothing, you fool. Now you gotta listen to us, Oxin, don't get distracted. You up to this?"
Misfit satyroids, that's all they were. Drunk blokes with nothing better to do than cause mayhem.
"Mm, yeah. I'm good to-" He stopped. "No, I swear that's..."
The ground trembled as he neared the place where she cowered. What little light the moon provided made it so his shadow cast an unruly beast onto the cobble alleyway. His curled horns could be clearly depicted as well, making her wonder how far back his bloodline went.
The shadow halted. It lowered to the ground, mimicking that of a person crouching to her groveling level.
He made a noise similar to that of a person calling for their horse by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "Come here little one, we won't hurt you."
The way he made his voice sound soothing, coaxing her from the darkness... She obeyed.
He sucked in a hiss when she lifted herself to her feet. Glorious red wings fell at her side, no matter how much she tried to shield them from their sight. Raven waves cascaded behind her shoulders and ended at her tailbone, providing a stark contrast to her wings.
Two more stood a few yards behind him. Well, not quite stood. They leaned against a building for support like pathetic drunks.
"See that, brothers? I knew my senses hadn't failed me as they have you." They didn't find his mocking amusing in the slightest. The older pair picked themselves off the wall and sauntered over, each crushing the can in their hand containing the liquid poison.
It was a play to be intimidating, and it worked wonders. Her knees quivered while attempting to take a faulty step backwards that would only land her on her butt. The ache of the fall shot up her spine and made her whimper.
"Well, now you've gone and made her cry. Who's the fool now?" The younger one timidly raised his hands and approached her. "Don't scream now, you got that little one?"
"Little?" One scoffed. "She's a woman."
"No, she might pass for one but... Her scent." He inhaled deep. "She's still not of age. Those wings might say otherwise. How beautiful..." He outstretched a hand, which only ignited her panic and made her scoot backwards, using her hands to drag herself back.
Eyes wide and inquisitive; she assessed her situation and the men before her. Their horns were twisted and intricate in design, signifying their abilities as warriors. All three bore a resemblance and confirmed they were not only brothers in combat, but also in blood. Her eyes ventured down their bodies to where their lower half resembled a satyr most. Broad thighs, covered in coarse, black fur were supported by narrow calves and dirty hooves that could stomp someone's face in.
She feared that, even in their drunken state, they could easily dispose of her and no one would ever find her body. Faenixes and their cocky personalities hardly meshed with that of satyroids and how ill-tempered they were; quick to get offended.
He looked over her meager frame likewise, "Hmm... Why aren't you crying for help? Most do by now."
She gulped. Most?
Careful not to move too quickly, though they hardly had concern for her fighting back, she brought her hand to her throat and patted it. Then opened her mouth to speak, only for it to come out as a gargled groan.
The one closest, remaining eye level with her, tilted his head before looking back at his brothers.
"It means she can't speak. Who's the fool now?" Seemingly the oldest one of the bunch mocked his brother's earlier mockery of them. Then the goading stopped for him to near her too. "And what of screaming, can you still emit that sound?"
"Oxin, Claymore." The one remaining distant snapped. "Let's get back to the mission. You wouldn't want to disappoint father again, right?"
"I'll make this quick. It will be another gift for father's prize wall, agreed? He should be given the opportunity of seeing these wings too." Oxin crept his hand behind his back to unsheathe a longsword from its holster strapped around him. Then he handed it to the brother beside him, eyes never leaving the girl. "Heat this up."
From his pocket, Claymore took out a hefty lighter that made her believe they were gluttons for arson. He began searing the metal of the blade meticulously, preparing it for what was to come.
"Don't worry, Davient, she's far too frightened to scream. Want to do the honors?" The younger one, Oxin, is the one she had to blame for spotting her feathers and for orchestrating this terrible idea. Alas, he was the one who stood to take a firm position behind her, solidifying his intentions.
She would not be escaping.
Deep within Eledorah rested a fighting spirit. One that would stand ground for others in danger but seldom for herself. She picked herself up from the ground and feebly attempted to reason with them without a voice to speak her plea.
Odd gestures came from her; words spoken silently by incorporating her hands and body. A dead language, as so many told her. That didn't stop her from hoping they could comprehend it. All it did was cause them to laugh.
"What the hell was that? An invisible puppet show?" Oxin chuckled. He then took her hands in his and drew them behind her back. "Whatever. Is it almost hot enough, Clay? I want to be done with her and get those wings sealed before continuing the night's fun."
Davient came forward now to join their games, seeing no way of steering them back to the mission. Better to get this over with quickly before they were seen.
Now that he neared, she could stare into his eyes and see that years made him wiser. Though he was shorter in stature than his counterparts, he was the leader of their undersized assault on Sol Pago. That was why, when he passed by, his brother handed him the sword and mumbled to Oxin to hold her steady.
At first, she thrashed against his hold and kicked with all her might, a sudden rush of adrenaline prompting her to break free. Something in her mind convinced her that she had a chance. It was short-lived. The wishful thinking, erratic thrashing... All of it ceased from a single noise. It started as a low growl and caught her focus when there was still an ounce of fight left in her, then it turned to a guttural roar from deep within the belly of the beast.
Just as soon as she became motionless, he swung the tempered sword down in a clean sweep down her back, searing the skin it came in contact with. In her broken way, a muffled cry escaped her lips, and she struggled to breathe through the excruciating pain while knowing what just happened. Someone caught her wings before they graced the dirty ground, not wanting to soil their prize.
A hand reached up to poke where her wings had hung proudly. "It cauterized wonderfully. Good job, brother."
Davient dropped the fiery blade, the metal of the hilt agitating his hands, and nonchalantly shrugged. "I never miss what I set my sights on." He flexed his sore hands and glanced about the alley. "Someone must have heard that. Perhaps they're trying to avoid a confrontation like the weaklings they are. We must head back and await our opportunity. Plus, I need another drink."
The men laughed darkly in unison, leaving the girl on her knees where darkness crept up her spine and invaded her soul. Her wings... What was she now without her wings?
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A/N: Thank you for reading the first chapter! Happy to have you along for Eledorah's journey full of deceit, glimmers of hope, but mostly a deliciously tempting Prince that may have her abandon all her morals.