The Princess's Feathers

“Did Enyll really mean that? Does he think I’m inferior?”

Left to ourselves at the fire, me and Kuro sit next to each other by the flame of the ember root, keeping our feathers warm against the chilly autumn night. The air has an uncharacteristic edge for autumn, and I suspect winter arrives early in Felra.

“I don’t know. Enyll’s a bit of an idiot most of the time,” she chitters to herself, shaking her head. “But it’s true that Keuvra teaches us we’re the most powerful predators on the moon.”

“Do you believe that?”

“Of course I do. But, I don’t think you’re inferior, Asha. If Keuvra didn’t want a prey species to have the body of a proud Lithan, he would have stopped you from taking it. There has to be a reason you became one.”

A purpose to why I became a Lithan…?

“I’ve never thought of it quite that way,” I whisper. “My purpose in life was to lead Ellyntide as Queen. Why would I be pulled off that course and given this body?”

I’ve only considered turning into a Lithan to be a terrible curse. What use would a Princess turned Lithan even have? I can’t be understood by any of the animals I used to know, and I’m a burden to the Dragons I can now communicate with. I don’t know why she thinks Keuvra could have stopped my change from occurring, either. The deities are strictly forbidden from interfering in our world, and even the information they share during communion is filtered.

I stare into the fire and release a sigh. It seems the more I learn about myself and Felra, the more questions arise.

“Keuvra will have the answers,” Kuro speaks in a reassuring tone. We gaze into the fire as the sounds of the forest grow around us, insects chittering strange noises long into the night, feeling warmth in front of me and next to me. It feels like I’m not alone for the first time in days.

“Kuro,” I ask abruptly. “Why did you trust me?”

She turns an eye. “Hmm?”

“You had no reason to offer me kindness today. Something anchored you to listen to me even when the others flew away.”

Her gaze swivels to the fire and the trees beyond. “Well, you were right,” she says, rising to her talons. She signals with a wing to follow, and I stand to join her. We walk into the clearing, away from the light of the fire to see Maki rising above the treetops. Kuro gazes up and greets the planet, her forefeathers turned ghostly pale in its glow.

“I’ve been fascinated with the Farlands ever since I was a fledgling,” she says. “My mother used to take me to the top of Flat Rock and tell me stories... the one about the Farlands was my favorite. I loved hearing about the land where strange prey walked on two legs and got eaten by airship-prey. When I got older and ca—“

“Teehee.”

Kuro’s reverie is cut short by a laugh I failed to contain. “What’s so funny?” she demands, puffing her feathers up in agitation.

“Oh Goddess,” I pant, desperately trying to stifle the inane mental image of an airship with a toothy maw chewing on a hapless Rabbit. “I’m so sorry, Kuro. But, um, airships don’t eat us. That’s preposterous.”

She stares at me in disbelief before her face draws into a gentle smile. “You’ll have to explain the truth to me, sometime.”

“Of course,” I smiled back. “I can tell you everything you’ve ever wanted to know about the Farlands.”

“I’d like that.”

I look up and our faces meet. It feels good knowing my intuition about her curiosity was correct.

We resume walking through the grass, side by side under the planetlight. “But, um, that didn’t answer my question. Why trust a Farlander?”

Kuro turns her head to me and gives me a look. It seems she wasn’t expecting me to push the question. “Well, I’m not really sure. But even before we smelled the Farlands on your feathers, we knew there was something unusual about you.”

“Unusual? In what way?”

She smirks and looks down my back. “It’s your feathers. Bright blue, like the color of warm summer skies. I’ve never seen a plumage like yours before.”

I ruffle in surprise. “Really?!” I look different from a normal Lithan?

She chitters to herself at my reaction. “Bright feathers are for the birds, Asha. Kin were given dull feathers by Keuvra so we would blend in better with the environment. Sometimes boys have bright colors, but never girls.”

I stay silent for a moment, surprise holding back my voice. “When I was a Lemur, my hair was the same shade of blue. That can’t possibly be a coincidence.”

“Your hair?” Kuro asks. “That’s the fur that grows on Farlander’s heads, right?”

“Tee-hee, basically.” Hair isn’t the same thing as fur, but I’m surprised she knows about it at all.

Ever since I saw my reflection back in the weald, I’ve wondered why my feathers are the same shade of blue as my hair. In a way it makes sense — blue was the brightest color on my old body. As Kuro pointed out, if you were trying to create a plumage that was well-suited for blending into the sky on a sunny day, I’d have it.

But black was the dominant color on my old body, not blue. If dull colors are the most common for Lithan plumage, then shouldn’t I be mostly black?

A chill breeze blows across the field. “After we killed the False-Kin and got a better look at you, I was convinced you were a boy. But when I heard you coughing and realized you were a girl…” she trails off and looks back up at Maki. “I don’t know. It was like something told me I could trust you. That probably makes no sense…”

“No, no. I get it,” I say, looking up at Kuro. “I’ve had some strange intuitions before, too.”

Planetlight glistens off Kuro’s eyes as her gentle gaze slides to meet mine. We stare into each other a moment, neither of us moving, neither of us speaking. My cheeks flush and I murmur, “I’m, um, glad yours turned out to be true as well.”

Small prey racing through the grass steals our attention. Reacting on instinct I flinch like I were about to pounce but pull myself back when I sense Kuro hasn’t moved. I turn to see her stiff as a snake plant, watching the furtive feral skitter to the safety of the forest.

“Too small?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she replies, her voice cool. “If I were hungry and desperate I would chase after prey like that. But, not tonight.”

I laugh to myself, remembering how desperate I’ve been the past few days. “No wonder I flinched and you didn’t. Can you believe I haven’t even killed live prey yet?”

Kuro stops and looks at me funny. “You’ve never killed prey? I thought you said you killed the Farlanders that attacked you?”

“Well, yeah, but they—“

My voice locks up and I stare blankly at Kuro, lost for words with a pit forming in my stomach. Her expression paints unspoken words that say, ‘Yes, that counts.’

“…I suppose you're right,” my head lowers, weighted by conflicting emotions. “I’ve lived my entire life seeing ascendant animals as my family and friends. Even though I’m a Lithan, it’s… difficult to think of them as food.”

“That’s too bad, Farlanders are satisfying prey,” She chitters and licks her chops like she was remembering a particularly satisfying encounter with an unlucky ascendant. To think, the kind girl in front of me could be capable of such barbarity against people I’ve known my entire life.

…As if I’m any better, now. Back in the hollow, I was ecstatic to get another taste of Starla’s flesh. I so much as thought of her as a snack.

Perhaps sensing the dissonance in my head, Kuro opens her wings and announces, “I’ve got an idea. Wait here a few minutes, okay?”

Eh!? “Kuro!? W-Where are you going?”

“Trust me” she growls in delight. “I wanna get you something. You’re gonna love it.” She turns and bounds to the forest on the opposite side of the clearing, becoming invisible after stepping away from the glow of Maki. Kuro’s scent slowly drifts from me and I find myself alone for the first time since the fight with the Redaga.

I settle into the grass, preening my chest and letting my mind wander, thinking about mom and how much I wish I could share with her all the incredible things I’ve discovered today. In just a few short hours I’ve learned more about Dragons than any ascendant animal has in centuries! I’m the first Lemur to talk to a Lithan and learn about their customs and culture! There’s so much I still need to do in Felra, but all I can think about is what I’m going to do when I return home and see my family again. Oh, what stories I’ll be able to tell!

A shriek and a rustling of the trees interrupts me, followed a minute later by Kuro emerging into the planetlight with a small feral scruffed between her front fangs. Covered in fur with tufts sticking out of long ears, the creature kicks and screeches from being held, but can’t break free of Kuro’s grasp. “Here,” she says, gingerly placing it onto the grass in front of me before smacking it down with one of her foretalons. “You think you haven’t killed live prey before? Well, here’s your chance: your very first prey-kill.”

The feral stares up at me with discs for eyes.

It looks… awfully like a Rabbit, this creature. And it’s probably not far off in size, either. How many rabbits have I known that could pass for this feral?

It’s strange. Killing ferals to survive is what I’ve been begging Kuro to teach me all day. But now that I’ve been presented with the chance to actually do that, I’m hesitating. Why did she have to bring me the one feral that looks like people I knew back home?

“It can be difficult for fledglings to make their first kill,” Kuro’s voice resonates as I stare deep into helpless eyes. “But this, a jimbal, is one of my favorite prey animals. Do you remember how the Farlanders tasted? I promise it’s just as good.”

Memories of the fight return to me. The fear-scent I smelled as Starla tried to escape. The taste as I bit into her neck. The satisfaction I felt finishing her off.

My ears fold and a deep growl escapes me. The fear scent of the jimbal has rekindled the predator instincts festering inside me, the ones I felt so unsettled by. My prey yelps and squirms, sensing that its life is in mortal danger. It has good reason to be afraid.

My head lunges. It takes only a second to finish the act.

Kuro releases her grip and leaves me to my reward: my very first prey-kill. I lay in the grass and waste no time indulging myself, ripping apart the jimbal like I was tearing the wrapping paper from birthday presents.

“So you can kill prey,” she chitters with an almost cat-like purr. “Do you like it?”

Unwilling to stop and give her a satisfactory answer, I simply growl in response. It really is just as good as Starla was. And to think, once I’m able to hunt I’ll be able to eat this prey whenever I like!

Kuro fluffs her wings in satisfaction. “I knew you would, I’ve used that prey to entice countless fledglings. Everyone changes their mind for a chance to eat more jimbal.”

It doesn’t take me long to finish the rest of my prey, leaving behind only a few disparate bones. Ready to move on, I struggle to rise to my talons, overcome by sudden sleepiness. I can’t help but exhale a large, toothy yawn.

“We should retire to the den for the night,” Kuro offers.

I nod drowsily. “Yes, please. This has been a long and tiring day.”

I stare across the field fully bathed in Maki’s glow, scarcely able to make out the fire at the far end. Kuro folds her wings and we begin walking back. “So, How do you feel about killing prey now?”

“I won’t have trouble in the future,” I quickly reply. “I only hesitated because the prey you caught looked familiar to me.”

“Good,” she says. “Felra won’t be like your home in Ellyntide. You’ll be expected to kill your prey, here.”

“Kill my prey…?’” I mumble to myself, trying to figure out what she could possibly mean by that remark. Then it hits me: She thinks I’ve had other animals hunt prey for me my entire life, and that’s why I struggled to kill the Jimbal.

Well, that’s not even remotely true. “Kuro, I need to explain to you how food works in the Farlands.”

I’m not as helpless as you think I am.

“It’s different?”

“Very!! Most Farlanders couldn’t imagine hurting a prey animal, much less killing one.”

“That sounds absurd. How can you eat if you don’t hunt prey?”

“Well! You see, there are these animals called ‘farmers’, and what they do is….”