"Flame-Kissed Wings"
A/N: This is a story that takes place in the future of Gold Crown City, which can sometimes be referred to GCC or just Crown City, so don't get confused. The original characters will have mentions from stories and such, but no appearances. This is a modern tale.
This story also draws heavily on the elements of Stravinsky's The Firebird.
Summary: A city is plagued with an epidemic - an epidemic of magic. But no one knows where it comes from. The arrival of a strange group of women and their sole male companion seems to be initially coincidental, though is eventually apparent that the two are connected. Melrose, the arrogant, so-called "prince" of Gold Crown City's acclaimed dance academy, falls in love with one of the new girls, but has no idea how dangerous she is. His new companion, Dusk, must help him realize his mistake before it's too late. But even she holds her own secret, one that could put Mel in potential mortal danger. Can Mel, blinded by infatuation, find his grip on reality or will he fall victim to her like so many others?
Act I
Scene I
"Introduction"
This city used to be alive. It used to pulse with energy, dirty, and dangerous. And now, it's something else.
On the outside, it looks exactly the same as it was, but underneath all the glamour and the grit, Gold Crown City has changed.
We used to not have much to do at night around the city but dance—we knew nothing of the lives of others our age living in other cities with far more modern and vivacious ways of living, even though our city was pretty advanced for the time as it were. Other teenagers like us, ones who frittered away their lives and money just as easily as we gave our time to practice, were outsiders to us. We had no idea of their existence or any desire to know of them.
That is, until they came into town.
Thirteen girls, one guy. I'm still not sure of their relationship, but…
Anyway, they're the reason we're in this mess. Our teachers warned us not to, told us to stay in the dorms and practice. But even they had no idea of what one man and a baker's dozen of girls were capable of in such a short time.
What, you ask?
What, indeed.
See, there was this club—The Edge—that no one could stay away from. We'd even run into a fair number of teachers there, the ones that warned us to stay away, ones who told us they couldn't help us practice because they had their own work to attend to. Work, my ass.
So, it was here at The Edge that it all began. This is where my troubles started, where Misfortune stole me away from Fate and began tightening her grip on my—wait.
…No. This isn't right.
This is not where it started. No. My tale begins far from The Edge. Well, not too far, in reality, but at the same time, I could hardly believe I was still inside the city the whole time it happened. I remember, to this day, the very instant I met her, the day I first laid eyes on such a wondrous creature in that old, familiar warehouse just after dusk. It was Fate that drew us together, Fate that entwined our strings together so we could not attempt to run from our destiny in case we should falter. I saw her—her and her dusky-gold eyes and her fiery-blond hair—and knew immediately that my life as I knew it was gone.
I remember exactly what happened next: she held out her hand after a moment of hesitation. She seemed to struggle against her actions, against her decisions. It was as if she had no will, as if she was acting on someone else's part, pulled along by invisible threads.
"Would…will…you dance with me?" she asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. The words had risen to her throat unwillingly, it seemed. I could feel it. But I was still taken aback by her appearance, her fiery beauty outshining many of the lead dancers at the academy. It was unnatural: that much, I expected. I'd guessed by then that she was no ordinary human. I mean, really—there was no way a girl like her had business in such a place in which I found her, an old, abandoned warehouse that used to make our costumes for us before a fire ruined much of the interior and exterior, forcing the workers to move elsewhere. Fading sunlight feebly shone through the gaps in the roof, quickly fading shortly after I met her.
I'd been drawn to the warehouse, I think, just as she was compelled to speak to me. Neither of us was acting on our own, drawn toward each other forcefully as if our lives depended on it. I had ended up in the warehouse purely by chance, returning from a visit to my sisters' apartment, suddenly realizing I had no idea where I was until I saw the old signs warning against being on the property informing us that the structures were weak and could collapse at any minute. I had met her in such a precarious situation, one that could kill us both so easily. We were gambling with Fate by staying there, each minute ticking away increasing the chance we could have both been killed.
Her arm, still outstretched, was trembling. I looked at it only a moment more before taking it.
And so we danced. At first, I struggled to keep up, her grace and skill overpowering for me, even as a senior, her power surprising for someone so strange as her. I had assumed her movements would be like her words, hesitant, restrained, afraid. Instead, they were purely natural, purely of her own accord and will, of her own doing.
At last, just when I felt like I was about to break, we had danced so long, she pulled away gently, the music I had begun to hear keep rhythm with us fading softly into oblivion. She curtsied to me, gracefully, and looked up into my eyes.
"Yes. You are worthy. You have proven yourself to me."
She brought her arms down gracefully in a circle, hands cupped as a light began to shine gently between her palms, growing into a feather-shaped form. When it finished growing, I drew back, startled: the feather was smoldering in her hold, though did not seem to burn the girl at all. Her eyes questioned me, arms extending further to offer me the mysterious, flaming feather.
I reached out slowly, hesitation before realizing that it was not hot at all, not even warm.
"I pledge myself to you, Melrose. You may do as you wish with me." She curtsied again, almost out of obligation, though it did not seem to me that she knew what she was saying or doing. I stared at the girl, still clutching the flaming feather, unsure of what to say.
'But…How does she know my name?'
And so our destinies had crossed and intertwined…and at a most inconvenient time, might I add.
