The Princess's Feathers

You should keep your tail in the air as long as you’re around Kuro. Do you understand?

Fra’s warning has rattled around my head since we left Flat Rock. Could Kuro really be as difficult to get along with Enyll? Am I putting myself in harm’s way by being around her? It’s all so difficult to believe. She told me I could trust her, but…

What if Kuro isn’t being forthright about why she’s helping me?

Being a Lordanou, I know what it’s like to have animals with selfish desires constantly trying to court your favor. Everyone always wants something — ‘just a small favor!’ — from a member of the most powerful family in the Kingdom. When I was a teenager, the daughters of nobles swarmed like fruit flies to be my friends, only to disappear the moment I refused to buy them desirable clothing and jewelry.

Of course, I’m no longer in Ellyntide and no longer powerful. Quite the opposite, actually. But I’m all too familiar with the feeling of someone cozying up to get something from me, and… I get that from Kuro. What could a Kin want from a Farlander who’s utterly useless as a Lithan? I don’t know, but Fra’s warning about Kuro’s true nature was enough to trigger my defenses about her.

Flying to my left, I scrutinize her face as the wind whips her facial feathers. Could there be hostile intent lurking behind those eyes that I’ve yet to uncover? If so, will she reveal her true self while we’re at White Mountain?

…

I turn away and sigh, guilt raking my consciousness. But she’s been so accommodating and supportive of me, just like a real friend. I wish I weren’t so suspicious of everyone I meet, but I’ve been hurt so many times…

“Asha, is something wrong?”

Whoops.

I loosen a smile. “It’s nothing. I was just…” desperate to change the subject, I spot a bird flying over Kuro’s shoulder. “…Kuro, have you ever seen a glowing red bird before?”

Shock fills her face. She whips her head around to where I was looking, then turns back with a more measured expression. “A glowing bird?”

“Y-yeah!!” I stumble, suddenly anxious that it wasn’t familiar as I’d hoped. “When I first landed in Felra, I came across a strange, glowing bird. It began tweeting my name and led me to the den where the False-Kin was.”

I’m still upset about that damn bird. I would’ve died If Kuro and Enyll hadn’t been nearby and heard the fight!

Kuro thinks for a moment, and her face relaxes. “That’s very strange, Asha. I’ve never seen a bird like that before. When we get to White Mountain, we can try asking an elder. They might know more about it.”

I nod and wing into a gentle glide, pushed along by a thermal rising from a moonbound ridge. “Sounds like a plan. How much longer until we get there?”

Kuro scans the horizon. White Mountain has grown bigger since we left but still seems quite a flight away. For whatever reason, we’ve been flying considerably slower than we did on our way to Flat Rock. She glances at the horizon and says, “About a claw’s mark on the sun.”

A what?

I stare at the sky to try and figure out what she’s talking about, temporarily blind myself, then quickly turn away.

Kuro chitters, “Right, right! You wouldn’t know what that means. It won’t be much longer, Asha.”

Ow. If I had to guess, she’s referring to the distance the sun travels in the sky. So, if I were to hold up one of my claws directly under the sun, it would reach the base of my claw in… 45 minutes? Maybe? If I’m welcomed into their flock, I’ll have to be taught all the words they use for measuring time and distance.

As we fly, the scenery below us slowly changes. The forests grow denser with more giant trees and fewer clearings, and at some point, we flew into a valley with gently sloping ridges flanking us on both sides. They seem pretty far away from us now but eventually come together and converge at a point on the horizon: White Mountain.

It makes sense that Lithans chose it as a gathering site. Besides the topographically prominent mountain, the ridges on either side point straight to White Mountain. Even for Kin who are bad at directions, White Mountain is a cinch to fly to.

With the clouds parted, I can see other Lithans flying around us. A pair is circling one of the ridges to our right, while another is flying low above the trees to our left. “Are all these Dragons Kin?” I ask.

“Yup. We’re flying through the Great Valley of Felra, which the Flock has claimed for generations. Most Kin live in dens scattered throughout this valley.”

“And not at places like Flat Rock?”

She shakes her head. “Flat Rock is where our young are raised. Once they come of age and find a mate, most come to live in this valley.”

Oh! So that’s why there were so many kits and fledges in Flat Rock! I thought there would be many places like Flat Rock, but it sounds like their flock is pretty decentralized.

I exhale, feeling a bit overwhelmed with just how much I’ve learned about Kuro’s flock and how much there’s still to discover. And to think, I thought I could pretend to be some lost, amnesic little Lithan in the hope Kuro would show pity and take me to Flat Rock. I was so naive!

I’m still unsure what her intentions are… but maybe it doesn’t matter. Perhaps the thing that’s important right now is just how thankful I am that she’s helping me. I could have never done any of this without her.

We lower ourselves from the sky for a landing in the middle of an alpine meadow nestled against the flank of White Mountain. Kuro told me the gathering site was located some distance below the snow line. Despite being nearly as high as the ridges surrounding the mountain, it seems we’re merely at the base of this enormous mountain that eclipses in scale anything else located on the moon.

Before we found ourselves here, we had to quickly stop in the valley below to dig up ember root. Kuro explained it was customary to bring offerings of the flammable root to White Mountain, and the Elders would undoubtedly think less of us if we hadn’t. When I asked why they wanted ember root specifically, she said it would make sense once we arrived. But now that we have, I’m struggling to find its logic.

The meadow is long and wide, filled with late-season tall grass, surrounded by evergreens on both sides, the mountain in front of us, and a rocky cliff to our backs. The most impressive feature in this scene is a tall pillar made of stone, seemingly carved away from a moss-covered rock wall. Don’t get me wrong, the scenery here is stunning, as gorgeous as anything I’ve ever seen in nature. But I’m not finding the sense in bringing the ember root with us. Or any of the Kin that is supposed to live here.

“Where is everyone?” I ask with ember root rattling between my fangs.

“We haven’t arrived yet,” Kuro says.

“I thought you said it was located here?” As I speak, traces of wood ash enter my nose, too faint to tell where it’s coming from. Is the flock located in the trees?

She turns with a wry grin growing across her face. “We’re almost there. It’s better to see White Mountain than be told about it.”

Kuro signals with a wing to follow, and we make our way over rolling hills towards the rock wall where the stone pillar stands. I glance up, taking in the incredible scale of the snow-covered mountain that seems to stretch upward forever. If I were a lesser creature without wings, I’d surely believe I could reach all the way to Maki from that great height.

We reach the top of an incline and I begin to make out the entrance to a den near the stone pillar. At least, I believe it to be a den until we get closer, at which point I realize it’s far too large to be the entrance to just a den. The hole in the rock is wide enough that I could easily fly through it.

“It’s a cave in the mountain?”

Kuro acknowledges with a smile.

The ground by the entrance is scoured down to patches of dirt and bedrock. How many Kin visit here? And just how big is this cave? A gust of air ruffles my feathers as we walk through the entrance, overwhelming my nose with the scents of Kin and wood ash. The path meanders through the rocks before opening up on the other side.

That’s when I get my first look at it. Not so much a cave, but a cathedral.

Easing through the rock for seeming miles, it towers above me like the domes of the great churches of Ellyntide. Stone pillars extend from the ground to just below the ceiling where great fires burn, illuminating the interior by the light of flame. The air is cool and crisp, filled with kin gliding around the complex, some as pairs, some alone, some calling greetings to those resting on the ground. The far walls of the cathedral are scalloped like the rock walls of Flat Rock, and I can make out the entrances to innumerable dens.

Closer to the ground, great stacks of interlocking stone rise from the floor, increasing in density until culminating at an enormous stone structure that’s plainly visible even from this great distance. It’s clear to me that this is some altar or stage where the elders, or maybe even Keuvra himself, must gather when addressing members of the flock. If the entire flock were to gather here, then this space must become entirely filled by Dragon. What a sight that would be!

“Asha,” Kuro interrupts my slack-jawed awe. “Welcome to the White Mountain Aerie. The ancestral home of Keuvra’s Kin: the Snowfell Flock.”

I pry myself away from gawking and need a moment to locate my voice. “O-Oh, Kuro. It’s… incredible. I’ve never seen anything like this in the Farlands.”

Kuro grins, satisfied by my reaction. “Come on, let’s offer our ember root. Then we’ll go find my grandmother.” Realizing we’re still in the entrance, I bound to her with a bit of skip, playfully lashing my tail behind me, feeling elation for being the very first ascendant animal to discover this indelible space.

Kuro leads me inside to a small pile of the flammable root against a wall just by the entrance. To light a space this big, it’s no wonder offerings of ember root are customary. While adding to the pile, A black plumaged Kin flying from the direction of the edifice lands a short distance away. He calls to us, “Blue skies, Daughter-Of-Mecali. Have you come to visit your grandmother?”

“Warm currents,” replies Kuro. “And, I have. Please inform her that her granddaughter has urgent matters to discuss.”

The Kin’s expression remains steady as he flicks his eyes towards me and then back to Kuro. “Very well. Presently she is with Keuvra, so I will call on Uma to find her.”

My heart quickens at hearing the deity’s name mentioned. Truly, he’s here in the aerie? If the elders permit me, will I be able to speak to him without initiating communion?

Kuro acknowledges, and the black one returns to the air. “I thought we were going to talk to the elders?” I ask.

“We are,” she says with a smirk. “My grandmother is one of them.”

Oh!

Well, that certainly makes things convenient!

Kuro asks me to walk with her, and we begin a leisurely trot through the aerie. “The four oldest Kin in the flock retire to White Mountain to be our elders. When Keuvra isn’t present, they’re in charge and get to make decisions for the flock.”

“When Keuvra isn’t present?” I echo Kuro. “If he’s not always in the mountain, then where does he go? Hunting?”

“Well,” she says, taking a measured breath. “He’s still here. But Keuvra only appears to address the flock during the darkmoon gatherings. Otherwise, only the elders are allowed to speak with him.”

Darkmoon is the period occurring every month and a half when Jade is eclipsed by the planet Maki. The moon is enveloped in total darkness for thirty-four hours, lit only by prophets unobscured by cloud. In ascendant society, darkmoons are a tumultuous time marred in history by crime, assassinations, and the start of wars. That their deity appears simultaneously makes me curious about the flock’s traditions on those dark days.

This is a problem, however. If I remember the lunar calendar correctly, the next darkmoon won’t be for a few weeks. “So, what does that mean for me?” I ask hesitantly. “What am I supposed to do if I can’t be trained to hunt until after the next darkmoon?”

Kuro looks at me with a worried expression, then quickly turns away. “I don’t know. Nobody’s been allowed to join the flock without Keuvra being present,” she exhales and murmurs, “It rests on the elder’s wings.”

A lump forms in my throat. Even though the Elders make decisions in Keuvra’s absence, the rules of their flock seem pretty cut and dry. I can’t be trained until Keuvra is present, but Keuvra won’t see the flock until the next darkmoon.

“There’s one other possibility,” she says while bounding a boulder in a single stride, turning to face me on the other side. “Keuvra can be asked to address the flock at any time if there’s an emergency. It’s unusual, but…”

I smirk a little. “Does a Farlander appearing in the body of a Lithan count as an emergency?” It wouldn’t be the first one I’ve caused in the past few days.

Kuro flashes a smirk of her own but turns and resumes walking without answering my question. I take her silence to indicate once more, ‘the elders will decide.’

So, everything comes down to the elders. But if one of them is Kuro’s grandmother, that’s a good sign, right? Kuro seems to like me, and surely she can do some convincing to get her grandmother to understand my plight. That might get one of them on my side, but what about the other three?

‘Certain things will be expected of you if Keuvra accepts you as his Kin. I know you’re anxious to return to your family, but…’

On thinking of Kuro and the elders, a memory from the night prior is stirred. Just what was Kuro talking about? And didn’t she say we would talk about it once we got to White Mountain?

“Kuro,” I say, catching up to be by her side. “Last night at the fire, you said we would tal—‘

SCREECH!

A Lithan’s call pierces our conversation and a heartbeat later a steely-colored drakon dives in for a surprise landing in front of us. Kuro reacts like lightning, splaying her wings and unleashing a fierce snarl at the sudden intruder. The Kin hits the ground and matches Kuro with a snarl of his own, blocking our path forward. Everything happens so fast that all I can do is recoil in shock behind Kuro’s outstretched wings.

“Daughter-Of-Mecali!” the boy announces, flexing his talons. “Just what have you dragged into White Mountain?