Young Flame

Now that I know the cause of destruction in the area has no intention of harming me, I feel more comfortable to stop where I am and actually try to become a bird as elder Enya did. The more I think about what it might be like to fly, the more excited I get. The usefulness of flying doesn’t even need to be stated.

It’s a bit of a dumb worry, but I’m a little scared that if I change my form, I might be unable to change back. Like, maybe I stuff up the transformation and get stuck in a weird half state between my current form and that of a bird. I know it’s stupid to even worry about that. I have far too much control over my body for that to ever be possible, but the subtle fear remains.

My legs curl up underneath me and I sit on the grass a distance away from the once gruesome carnage left behind by that giant’s massacre. I still don’t know his name. If only I’d had the courage to ask after he’d saved me.

Now in a comfortable position, I close my eyes and try to picture the bird that elder Enya became so long ago. My form flickers, scatters and moves under my will. I focus on the large wings that held Enya aloft, the bright undisguised flames constituting each feather. A weave of fire, rather than a single whole.

My arms morph, tugging and compressing at me. I direct the shape in line with my memory, feeling the strange, yet not unpleasant sensation of my limbs twisting away from anything close to familiar. It takes a while for them to fully form, but when they do, the oddness of not having fingers hits me harder than anything else.

I crack an eye open to peek at how different my arms look. In place of my arms are long, fiery feathered wings that look extremely out of place on my normal body. My arm… no, wing, moves and bends in places that feel extremely abnormal, like suddenly being able to move my elbow in the opposite direction it used to allow.

I’m not done yet. My eyes shut again and I focus on changing the rest of my body to match my new appendages. I try to change my chest to match that of elder Enya, but soon find it difficult to transform myself any further. I can’t push myself to grow any bigger. But a bird doesn’t need to be big. I don’t know why I didn’t think to become smaller when growing my wings, but they are far too large as is.

With the new direction in mind, I shrink my wings and much of my body while forming my chest, legs and head into the image of my elder.

Eventually, the reshaping of my body ends and I have the full, indisputable body of the bird from my memory.

I attempt to stand, but it is far different from what I’m used to. I struggle to even figure out how I should place these newly taloned feet underneath me. It feels like I’m a child learning to walk again.

I swing my arms wide, trying to keep my balance as I put my feet under me once again, but am surprised by how big these wings are. They easily touch the ground below me despite standing on my legs. I really shouldn’t be surprised; avian anatomy isn’t exactly familiar, after all.

I spread my wings wide and find that they far surpass my old height from tip to tip. My new height though, leaves me standing at about my old knee level.

I take a few hesitant steps with my wings pressed against the ground to help my balance. This is so strange, but I’ve done it. I’ve fully changed my form like Elder Enya. It took me a long time to do, but I’m proud to finally achieve one thing our tribe always considered an impressive feat.

Giddy with excitement to finally fly, I hop from foot to foot, trying to hurry myself to becoming comfortable with these legs. My balance still avoids me though, and even with a few stumbles, my patience is at its limit. I flap my wings like I’ve seen Enya do, like I’ve seen plenty of birds do, trying to will myself into the air.

Worse than being unable to get into the air, my flapping does nothing but send me off balance. My beak dives right into the soil before I can stop myself. I pull my head out with a squawk. Upon hearing myself, I let out a chirrup. I can’t speak. I distinctly remember Enya being able to, so why can’t I?

Disregarding that for now, I go back to trying to fly. It never seemed hard for the big birds to take off as long as there was some wind, and there’s plenty of breeze today. I spread my wingtips as far apart as I can, breathing in the air as it touches every scalding feather on my body.

I push myself off the ground with a little hop and bring my wings down with strength.

My talons dig back into the soil. I don’t rise even slightly. My wings cut through the air rather than pushing against it. Even now, with my wings held against the wind, I don’t feel the resistance from the air I expect.

A short chirp drags my beak to the roof of the shed. I surprise myself by twisting my neck far further than I’m used to. A small bird, nowhere near my size, watches me with what must be amusement. Does it think my troubles are funny?

The tiny bird chirps, as if confirming my thought.

I screech at the creature, terrifying both it and myself with how loud it is. The bird scampers off, pumping its wings with gusto.

Even its terrified flying still annoys me. It flies, while I’m stuck on the ground, unable to figure it out.

I glance over my burning feathers, admiring the pattern woven by the flames. Did elder Enya like hers as well? Is that why she never hid her flames while as a bird?

Wait…

I’m an idiot. Of course, I need to actually make my form physical before I can fly. Excitement returning with this new discovery, I try to return to physical and away from ethereal. My body resists me as I slowly force my bird form into physical flame, but it only takes a minute before I succeed. I try to push it further and control my flames to hide them as I was taught to do, but it’s far harder in the body of a bird.

It’s like I’m back to being a child and unable to control my flame again. Is it really so much harder to do when I’m not in my natural form?

I ignore that for now. I don’t think my flames need to be so physical that they can’t be seen for me to fly. My wings lift once again and the difference is immediate. The wind rolls around my wings and gives an incredible amount of push. I stumble under the heavy weight the breeze places on me, only barely keeping my feet.

A single push of my wings is enough to launch me off the earth. I beat my wings and try to catch as much wind as I can. My eyes are forced wide and aware, despite the temptation to brace for impact. I’m glad I don’t.

The ground passes below me.

I’m flying.

I let out an involuntary screech at the achievement, interrupting my rhythm and almost sending myself headfirst back to the ground. My wings steady, almost locking in place, and bring me into a steady glide.

I fly for hours. The feeling of it is just too good, too freeing. I fly until it becomes as natural as walking and my wings ache from effort. Trying to head up towards the sun had been unfortunately disappointing. If I could get closer to the Eternal Inferno, I would get warmer right? Apparently not. Before long, the temperature drops instead of rising and I couldn’t climb anymore.

I was also hoping it might have been possible to see my family in the Eternal Flame, even if that sounds stupid in hindsight.

After landing back at the shed, I return to my normal body. Surprisingly, it only takes a bit over ten minutes to change back. Is my binding actually greater than what Elder Enya’s was?

It doesn’t take me long to set up a place to sleep in the shed and I’m out.

❖❖❖

On my second time changing into a bird, I realise I don’t want to be the same type of bird that Enya became. I want to leave that as a memory of her and take on a form for myself.

The bird I decide on is smaller than the eagle Enya based her form. Instead of the bulky legs and stocky body, I settle with a much sleeker appearance. It looks rather innocuous despite also being a predator of the skies, which I think is perfect for me.

My version of the bird turns out bigger than its inspired source, but there’s only so much I can compress the flames of my body. Plus, I need to carry the huge jacket around with me, so a little extra wing size will help.

After wrapping my new talons around my things, I take to the sky. The breeze through my feathers is indescribable. How could elder Enya not have spoken of this feeling more often? I’ve never felt something so freeing before. No-one could cage me, trap me or lock me away while in the air. I’m as separate from everything as I can be.

My wings angle me north, towards the border between New Vetus and Zadok. At least this time I won’t have to travel through the Wailing Woodland, I can just go over.

It doesn’t take long in the air before I find the edges of the area Henosis invaded. There are ursu walking around, sifting through the damaged remains of the Empire’s weaponry and vehicles. I soon fly over a city, the largest one so far. An army of ursu flood the streets.

This is my first time actually seeing the ursu soldiers, I realise. Back in Morne, I’d seen the recruiters and official soldiers wearing full body uniforms covering every portion of their bodies except their beefy hands and face. The soldiers below all wear sleeveless vests, the uniformity of it alongside their cohesive conduct being clear indicators to me they are soldiers rather than normal civilians.

There is one thing I notice that tempts my curiosity. I swoop lower to get a better view of the ursu around. My appearance spooks some of the ursu and I note to myself how visible I am to those below. Only a rare few ursu hold any of the guns I’ve become so used to soldiers carrying. Both Zadok and Henosis had every albanic equipped with their own rifle, so it is strange to see the only guns held by ursu are pilfered. Even then, the weapons are deformed to allow their bulky fingers to reach the triggers.

Instead of guns, most ursu wield hefty weapons I am more familiar with; spears, axes, halberds, and even some huge hammers. All of their weapons would be incredibly unwieldy to anyone except those of their height and weight. Seriously, I doubt I’d even be able to lift the smallest of their spears.

Around the largest continae I’ve seen, even larger than the one within the Void Fog, is the heaviest congregation of ursu military. They swarm the open area like an aggravated ant nest. While most soldiers stand in orderly lines, there are many cheerful murmurs from the crowd as they talk amongst themselves.

The attitude between a few arguing men at the foot of the Continae is far more tense and distressed than the lax air of those surrounding them. It’s plainly obvious that these ursu are the ones in charge. The way they hold themselves is enough of an indication, even while arguing they exhume an unwavering confidence.

I’m tempted to go lower and hear what is being said, but there are already far too many eyes on me than I’m comfortable with. I don’t want the big guy to have any reason to come after me and the best way to do that is to avoid the ursu as much as I can.

Fortunately, that is easy when you can fly right over them.

Now that I have wings, my travel speed is almost a nonissue. While I can’t reach the speed that trains can manage, I’ll be able to move around at unthinkable speed. It shouldn’t take me more than a few days to reach the river border of Zadok.

Time I can use to get my voice to work in this form.