'I have a problem.'

Fledge clutched the quill as tightly as possible as he carefully wrote out the words. Not that it mattered how tightly he held it. His hand always shook so badly that his handwriting came out as a spidery scrawl. He held his tongue between his teeth and furrowed his brow in concentration, trying to make his writing somewhat legible. He didn't want to cause Pipit any more trouble by straining his eyesight.

Drat. He blotched the 'm' in problem. He watched helplessly as the ink ran over the page, blurring the other letters and forming a little spider shape. He sighed and tossed the sheet in the full wastepaper basket. Okay. Fresh sheet. Just start again.

'I have a'

No. He couldn't do this. What could Pipit do? How could anyone possibly help him? He should just give up. Fledge threw down the quill and stood up.

But then Groose's dull laughter forced its way into his mind, and he quickly sat down again.

'I have a problem.'

He sighed. Groose had been showing up a lot lately. Not just in real life. In Fledge's thoughts, his dreams - his very existence was starting to revolve around Groose. And Cawlin, and Strich.

His stomach rumbled. He moaned a little. He hadn't eaten a proper meal in ages. Henna had been kind enough to save him some leftovers each night, but she could never save much thanks to Groose and co. See? Again, it came back to Groose. Everything that was going wrong in his life was his fault. Not that he'd ever dare say it to anyone. It'd probably somehow find its way back to Groose, and Fledge really did not want that. That being said, he was now about to say it on paper and submit it to a public box where anyone could read it. Food for thought. Anyway, back to writing.

'For the past'

For the past... what? Three years? Five years? To be honest, he wasn't sure when it started. At this point, it seemed like he had spent most of his life constantly terrified of the three boys. They filled up most of his memories. On his first day of school, Groose took him aside and gleefully told him that he hoped they would be seeing a lot more of each other. Fledge stupidly thought this was an offer of friendship. Groose wasn't trying to be subtle, he didn't even know what subtlety was, but young, stupid Fledge got all excited over making a friend on the first day.

Needless to say, that excitement soon faded.

'For the past couple of years, I've been having some trouble with Cawlin, Strich and'

He could hardly bring himself to write the name.

'Groose.'

The bruise on his thigh throbbed.

He had put up with a lot over the years. He always coped with it, though. It wasn't too bad. Well, it was bad, but managable, at least. The constant beatings and tauntings he could take. But the final straw was when they hurt Sephir. Fledge's precious Loftwing. Sephir, with his calm temperament, always comforted him after a rough day, and one day, about three days previous, it had indeed been a pretty rough day.

The morning had started off with Cawlin locking Fledge in the bathroom, and Commander Eagus had had to let him out. He emerged to find his homework for Professor Owlan's class gone. Owlan was pretty lax on most things, but not on homework. He took no excuses. Fledge spent the morning standing outside the classroom. Groose 'accidentally' shoved him into a wall on the way out. He spent his lunchtime on the Academy roof, as usual, and then went down to the kitchen when he was sure Groose was gone. Henna gave him a couple of jobs to do. He was grateful for that. It meant he could put off having to see Groose for about half an hour. After lunch was the dreaded defense training class with Commander Eagus. He came out of that with a couple of fresh bruises. He headed back to his dorm room to change, only to be jumped by the trio. What ensued was what Groose liked to call one of their 'sessions'. After they left, Fledge, battered and bruised, dragged himself into bed and cried for a good half hour. He wanted to see Sephir.

He had made his way up to the Goddess Statue. Sephir always loved to perch on the outcrop just behind the statue with the other Loftwings. Fledge liked to think he was having little conversations with his friends. He hated to interrupt, but Sephir was always happy to see him. Going to visit Sephir was the highlight of his day, and he could already feel his spirits lifting as he dragged himself up the steps. They plummetted when he saw Groose, Cawlin and Strich walking under the arch towards him. Groose smirked at him as he passed, and Cawlin and Strich sniggered. Fledge fixed his eyes firmly on the ground. He was so glad that they had left him alone that the thought that there was something wrong didn't cross his mind. He made his way to the back of the statue, wondering if they were just in a good mood that day, when he saw Sephir and realized why they didn't bother him. They didn't need to do anything to him there because they had already hurt him in the worst way they knew how.

Sephir lay on the ground, cawing weakly. His pale purple feathers were ruffled and matted with dirt, and the word 'WEAKLING' was scrawled along his left wing in green paint. That wasn't even the worst part. The part that made tears spring to Fledge's eyes and his throat close up was the way Sephir's leg was bent in an unnatural direction. It flopped by the Loftwing's side uselessly. He looked to be in huge pain, but also somewhat ashamed, as if he didn't want Fledge to see him in such a state. Fledge ran to him and buried his face in his dirty feathers and howled. Did they do this just to hurt him? No. He didn't think so. They were too stupid to do something so vindictive. Then, could it be... they wanted him out of the Wing Ceremony? They did this just so he couldn't take part in the Wing Ceremony? He didn't care about the stupid thing. If they wanted him out, they could have asked. He didn't care. Why did they have to do this?

"Why didn't you fight back?" he whispered through his sobs.

Sephir's yellow eyes gazed back at him, unblinking.

In the end, he had scrubbed the paint off of Sephir's wings and brought Orielle to him. He had made the excuse that he had gotten into a flying accident. Orielle was furious, and called him stupid and careless for letting it happen. Fledge nodded, poker-faced, through her lecture, but had to look away when she said he didn't deserve Sephir. She was right. He didn't deserve him. If Sephir had never come to him, he would have been spared all this.

'You idiot! How could you let this happen to him?'

Fledge sighed and got up from his chair for a stretch.

Anyway, Sephir would be out of action for a few months. He had gone to visit him at Orielle's sanctuary every day since then. Surprisingly, Sephir didn't resent him, and greeted him with a happy caw every time he saw him.

He sat down again and took up his quill.

'They've been hitting me and calling me names every day. I have the bruises to prove it. They also broke my Loftwing's leg.'

He felt like a disgusting little tell-tale. What if they didn't even know they were doing it? What if all of this was just a misunderstanding? Then, he thought back to the look in Sephir's eyes. How could that have been a misunderstanding?

'I need help. I'm sorry to bother you, but could you speak to them?'

He sighed again and folded up the letter. Then, he remembered he had forgotten to sign it. He opened it up again and scrawled his name at the bottom of the letter. Well, that was that done. Next came the test of willpower. The Leap of Faith.

He glanced at his calendar on the way out. The 5th. Only two days away from the Wing Ceremony. Well, he wouldn't be taking part, anyway. He shut the door to his room and walked a few steps along the corridor. There it was, next to the stairwell at the bottom of the corridor. Pipit's Problem Box, painted in bright yellow by Pipit himself. Fledge inhaled, held for a couple of seconds, and exhaled. It was time. Without hesitating, he slipped the letter into the box, then turned away and walked back to his room as quickly as possible.