The night air was crisp, and the wisps of smoke from the small fire that Coriander had built outside her bedroom window wafted into the cold cottage in which she lived. It traveled up along the high walls, tracing along the natural flaws in the rafters. She sat on the windowsill, buried under a wool blanket, trying to absorb whatever heat the flames were exuding. Breathing, she saw the air from her lungs dance playfully in front of her, before fading into the dark. A gleam from above struck her eye. A falling star, she thought to herself, grinning ever so slightly.
They were rather common in the small, poverty stricken village that she and her mother resided in, that laid right out side of Avalar. With thatched rooftops, and shattered glass windows, there was no true place to call home. Especially not with the way they treated her. Coriander sighed, rubbing the thin leathery flesh on her wings between her rather human, alabaster fingers. The villagers were not aware of her past. All they knew was that she was strange, and all of those who exhibit differences are meant to be shunned.
"Coriander?" A gentle voice whispered from the other side of her bedroom door.
"Yes, mother?" She replied, instantly recognizing who it belonged to.
"You should get to bed."
There was a long silence before Coriander said "fine." She took put out the fire and climbed into her cot. The fabric scratched against her skin, yet she did not complain. She knew how lucky she was to have anything at all. There was only one thing she yearned for, though she never would admit it. At least, not out loud.
She soon drifted off into a barely existent sleep, wavering in and out of consciousness. The fragments of dreams that managed to surface were always of the same thing. A land spoken of in lore, where dragons and magic did exist. A land which her mother claimed to have went, and committed an all to human sin. These acres which were spoken of were the only place that she would have enjoyed existing. Where she would feel as if she had a place to call her own.
Her viridian eyes fluttered open to faint rays of sunlight spattered across her walls, and sheets. It reflected off of newly fallen particles of snow, and speckled her windowpane. It was a beautifully colorful display wake up to, but did not bring smile to the face of the weary girl.
She rolled herself out of bed, her cranium throbbing, and her heart feeling heavy. Without looking in the large vanity mirror across the room, she forced herself into the kitchen for proper nourishment.
The kitchen was a small room, with cold stone floors, and pine cabinets jutting out from the walls. There was no sink, but a basin upon the floor which all dirty dishes would be placed in, until somebody would be willing to take a walk to the well. A makeshift icebox sat next to it, filled to the top with ice, sawdust, and various products whose ages were starting to show. She reached into it and pulled out a meat product. It seemed enough like veal, she figured, and went outside to roast it.
The sun was still low in the sky, so many of the townspeople were still in bed. That was the only reason that she had the courage to step outside of her decrepit domain. The flames licked the meat, turning it golden in spots, and slowly drying it to perfection.
Upon seeing that it had reached a state of edibility, she sunk back into the shadows of the cottage, locking the door behind her. Eagerly, she dug her fangs into the tender, juicy meat, savoring it only for a moment, before taking yet another gouge out of her meal. Silently, and quickly she ate, gently licking every last bit of substance from the bone. Her stomach growled for more, but she knew she could not satisfy her hunger.
"Oh, good. You're awake." Her mother walked in, carrying a basket of berried. Her dainty feet were bare, and covered in mud, and her hands were marked from where thorns had torn her fragile flesh. As a woman, she was of a petite build, pale, and had rather dark features.
"Yeah…" Coriander gently clutched her stomach, trying to avoid hinting to her struggling mother just how starving she was.
"How did you sleep?"
"No better than usual." She watched as her mother placed the basket on the counter, and resisted the urge to go snatch one of those tempting treats.
There was a long pause while her mother stared at her. Coriander couldn't be sure what was going on, but the gears in the woman's head were turning.
With a sigh, the aging woman asked "You want to know the truth, don't you?" Taken aback by the statement, all Coriander could manage were a few jumbled sentences. "Sit." She pulled her daughter into a seat at the crooked table, and looked her directly in the eyes. "You have to promise tha tyou will not be upset by what I'm about to tell you."
"I won't be mother. I promise."
"Well then…" Her mother began, unsure of where to start. "Perhaps I should tell you what drew me out of Avalar in the first place… I was a curious, and having just reached adulthood, I assumed that I could take on the world. I left my home the day after my eighteenth birthday, with no more than the clothes on my back. I was off to visit the world that the legends spoke of. Where I could live through so many adventures, and I could be happy. And happiness is what I found. Happiness in the arms of somebody who I would soon call your father…" She licked her lips gently, searching for the next words. "Your father, as I'm sure you know, wasn't exactly… human…"
Coriander flicked her reptilian tail, and ran her fingers across the horns on her skull.
Her mother continued. " He was one of the elders. One of the so called elemental guardians. He and I fell madly in love almost instantly, and eventually that lead to you… But the love didn't last. I just didn't feel the same about your father after you were born, and I left to come home. Your grandparents wouldn't let us stay in their house. They frowned upon what I had done. Everybody did…. So, here we are."
Coriander gazed at her mother, unphased by what she said. There was one prying question at the back of her mind. Finally, after eighteen years of living, it fought its way to the tip of her tongue. "Who is my father?" Her mother's jaw hung open, harboring any possible answer she would give.
"I want you to go to the temple that I told you about when you were little. Say you were Zephyra's daughter. They'll know who you want to see."
With that, she left, leaving Coriander to walk up to her room alone. Coriander filled her bag with some spare clothes, some food, and some various items of importance. Specifically a necklace with a chain of the finest silver, and a synthetic gem made of glass. She took one last look in the elaborately decorated mirror above her bureau. With emerald eyes, and skin that could very well belong to a porcelain doll, she was stunning. That is, if one were to go without noticing the ivory horns atop her head, and graceful yet strong wings stemming from her back, and the flowing, elegant tail which dragged behind her.
Summoning whatever inner strength that remained from the years of emotional beating, she left the house, and ventured out into the unforgiving world.