"Two x to the square hypotenuse of and isosceles triangle equals the
square root of...." the math teacher droned on. I really hated math
class, I don't know why. Maybe it was the teacher..."Mr. Franklin? Can I
go to the office? I have to call someone." Well, maybe that excuse would
work, I hadn't used that one before...
" Sure sure, go ahead" Mr. Franklin turned back to his class of daydreaming ninth graders.
"Thanks" I said to his turned, wool covered back as I walked out the door. I ran up the two flights of stairs, muscles in both my legs burning, begging me to slow down. I ignored their pleading, for what was the use of having legs if you didn't use them?
I stopped, on the landing on the third floor. This was my favorite spot in the whole school. I just loved to sit there, on the top step and gaze through the gigantic paned window, watching the world go by, everyone all caught up in their own, busy little lives. It started to snow.
As I watched the small white flecks, the essence of winter, drift down the clear panes of glass, only to land in a sea of it's own kind, I saw an incredible luminescent blue glow headed toward the window. The glow ran clean through the window and shot toward me at blinding speed.
'What is it?'
It enveloped me in light, and I began to float. My hair was pulled free of it's elastic. Reddish brown curls began to lift into the air. The beam hesitated, only for a moment, before starting to move, whisking me away along with it. The neon pillar shot towards the sky, unfortunately taking me with it. I was surrounded in an ocean of blue. I was flying, a prisoner of my own bright blue casing, but flying nonetheless.
Then, as soon as it began, the light vanished. I opened my eyes, and blinked for a few minutes, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the dimness.
'Where am I?'
I exhaled, trying to catch my breath. The stench of death and burning flooded my lungs.
I looked up, desperately searching for a breath of fresh air. A black shadow crossed over the moons. Probably just a raven or a crow…wait! Moons? Yes there were two, and one looked suspiciously like earth also. So far away. I reached my hand to my planet in longing. A few feet away from me, there was a painful thump, and then a groan.
'What was that?'
I glanced over. 'Well, at least it's human,' I thought. 'Well not quite, he did have those wings…Wings? Wow this is too weird.'
Though I could hardly see their outline, in the eerie red light that didn't seem to have a source, I could see the tattered feathery extensions jutting out from his back.
Puzzled, I ventured a little closer, until I could see his face. He was handsome, to say the least. His hair was the palest blue, standing up in spikes, but long at the back. He had a small tattoo, purple, and shaped like a teardrop, just under his right eye. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his toned muscles only added to his image. He wore a kind of skirt-thing, almost like a robe, but with no top to it. He had a scabbard fastened around his waist, the sword was missing. My eyes seemed to direct themselves toward his right arm. It seemed to be made out of some kind of metal. 'A mechanical arm?'
Curious, I crept towards the silent figure, avoiding the gunfire over head, Slowly but surly I made my way over to His side. He was more heavenly up close that I had thought. His face, though scarred from the fall, still shone with the radiance of life itself, so pure and concentrated that you'd never see the like of it on earth. And this stone- faced warrior was still alive, still breathing, one glorious breath after another, still fighting for life with his very last available strength.
I just lay there, listening to the soft even whoosh of his tired lungs, wishing that I could help this fallen soldier, that I could go on forever just lying here beside him, entranced in his beauty.
There were feathers scattered all around him. Now that I was nearer to him, I could see that his wings were dark, almost pitch. A small puddle of blood was forming around him. I felt like I was going to be sick.
"You must have been hurt pretty badly, whoever you are," I said to no one in particular. Searching his side, I found the wound. It looked like a small shard of metal had lodged itself between two ribs. I couldn't take the object out of him, so I ripped off my sleeve and made a makeshift bandage, then tied it around him with the hem from his robe. It was torn anyway. I sat down beside him, and waited for any sign of consciousness…
Whether it had been an hour or twenty minutes, It seemed like forever. I cursed myself for forgetting my watch at home. The unknown soldier was still unconscious. I wondered what his eyes looked like. I reached out to touch him, but when my hand had come within reach of him, he groaned. His eyes fluttered open; deep amber pools studied me with compassion and sorrow. He must have already known that he was going to die.
He spoke. " Come here, child, I wish to share my story with you, for I have never told anyone what has happened to me, and I won't have the chance again." His voice was soft, he reminded me of the snowflakes outside the window at school. Cold, but without meaning to be, like it just came naturally. I made my way over to his right side, the one with the metal arm. I knew he would get to that part of his life eventually, so I didn't ask about it. It was better to wait. I snuggled up to his chest, and he put the arm around me. I was surprised, the metal was soft, but that's not what surprised me; it was warm. He swallowed, and started his tale.
"My name is Folken Fanel de Lacour, and I was the eldest son of the king of Fanailia." He pronounced his name in almost a French accent, but not quite. The rolling "r" and unpronounced consonants seemed not to matter. He continued.
"I had a young brother, Van. My life was wonderful, full of adventure, love, and mystery. I had decades ahead of me. But that all changed the day my father was killed." He scrunched up his eyebrows, and closed his eyes against the flood of memories that must have surfaced after that statement. He regained his composture, and, a little shakily, started again.
"I was only fourteen, but that also made me eligible to rule Fanailia. To become king, I had to prove my worth in a test of skill and power. I had to slay a dragon. For two years I trained, relentlessly trying to master the sword techniques and adapt to the life of a warrior. It wasn't enough." He paused to take a breath. "The demon lizard devoured my arm and left me for dead." Folken sighed. "When I came to, I was in some kind of medical facility. The technology was far more advanced than I had ever seen before. When I reached out to touch the equipment that rested on a trolley beside my bed, I was greeted with this hideous monster." He lifted the metal arm that was around my waist.
" I learned that the people who had saved my life were working on a 'fate altering machine' and it could predict the future. It had told them that I would be useful to their cause. My new residence was called 'The Floating Fortress'. They experimented on abducted little children. I can still hear the screams, they never stop. He shut his eyes, as if to block out the noise.
"My saviors trained my in the art of combat and sorcery. At the age of eighteen, my wings grew in, almost four years too late! But that's not the worst of it, their colour was wrong, gray instead of white. They gradually darkened to the pitch colour they are now." He fluttered a wing for effect. "I soon discovered that they tested me with the fate machine while I was unconscious, knocking decades off of my life span! They told me I wouldn't live past thirty at best!" He took a deep breath, calming himself down. " I turned twenty-six last month. Looks like I won't even get to thirty."
He blinked rapidly, holding back tears. I hugged him gently, trying to give him comfort without hurting him. I wonder who it pained more to hear his story. I was almost in tears myself.
He started talking again. "The first phase in testing the fate machine was to test it on my own birthplace, the kingdom of Fanailia. The very day after my brother, Van, was crowned king. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, looking into the cold, unforgiving eyes of my brother. Maybe it was better that he thought me dead. I helped him escape the clutches of the Zaibach empire, though I could do nothing for my…his people.
" I was not caught for helping free my brother, fortunately. What the Zaibach does to traitors…you do not want to know. One day, The Floating Fortress was destroyed. I used my wings to save myself, and no one else survived the blast. My first thought was to find my brother, for I had lost all of the best years brothers have together. I searched every town, every village I could find. At last I found him. I asked for sanctuary with him, and agreed to tell him all information about the Zaibach Empire.
"Last week, my brother mysteriously disappeared. The Zaibach Empire took advantage of this, and waged war against what was left of Fanailia, and all loyal to her. Van has not returned, and I fear the worst. I'll never be able to see him again." A sob racked through his body; his shoulders shook.
"Please." He said. "Help me sit up, I don't want to die like this. I rolled off of Folken, and managed to get the man to sit. To prevent him from falling, I leaned against his back, between the two fluffy, yet somewhat tattered wings. Delicate feathers surrounded me.
"I'm glad I had a chance to share my story with you, I only wish my brother were here. All I want is to be remembered, and forgiven in his eyes. I've left him so…much… responsibility.
Folken's body went limp, he slouched forward.
"Folken?" 'Oh no!'
I stood up, my knees shaking from the effort. I lowered him gently to the ground, so he could face the sky. It was, after all, where he belonged. Carefully, I stretched out his wings, and fluffed the feathers. I picked up the mechanical arm and folded it on his chest, then found the other, and clasped them together. He looked so peaceful, just like he was asleep. I looked up at the distant earth, wishing that I could go back, away from this madness and blood shed. A tear found it's way down my cheek, and more followed it.
I felt the glow surround me, but I didn't care. All I wanted to do was grieve for Folken, for the poor soldier who had wasted his life away, what little of it he had. I started being lifted into the tube, but still my eyes remained closed. I wanted to shut out the entire scene.
Thump! I was back; cold linoleum, scratched and scuffed by more feet than I could count, greeted my hands. The window was gray and boring, I'd never thought of it that way before. Even the falling snowflakes didn't draw my attention anymore. I inspected my clothes. They were just as they had been before I left, no torn sleeve or blood stains anywhere. My hair was still up in the ponytail, which had been ripped out by the blue light.
'Was it all just a dream?'
No it was too real to be a dream. It had to be real, it just had to…
A small black feather floated down in front of me. I snatched it out of the air, making sure it was real and clutching to it as if my whole sanity depended on it. Well, it really does, I guess. I stared at the feather, twirling it in my fingers. I wonder how much time had passed.
'I had better get to class before Mr. Franklin has a fit!'
On the landing I turned and looked out the window again.
"Goodbye, my fallen angel," I whispered to the wavering, snow covered trees outside, knowing that he couldn't hear me. I didn't care.
" Sure sure, go ahead" Mr. Franklin turned back to his class of daydreaming ninth graders.
"Thanks" I said to his turned, wool covered back as I walked out the door. I ran up the two flights of stairs, muscles in both my legs burning, begging me to slow down. I ignored their pleading, for what was the use of having legs if you didn't use them?
I stopped, on the landing on the third floor. This was my favorite spot in the whole school. I just loved to sit there, on the top step and gaze through the gigantic paned window, watching the world go by, everyone all caught up in their own, busy little lives. It started to snow.
As I watched the small white flecks, the essence of winter, drift down the clear panes of glass, only to land in a sea of it's own kind, I saw an incredible luminescent blue glow headed toward the window. The glow ran clean through the window and shot toward me at blinding speed.
'What is it?'
It enveloped me in light, and I began to float. My hair was pulled free of it's elastic. Reddish brown curls began to lift into the air. The beam hesitated, only for a moment, before starting to move, whisking me away along with it. The neon pillar shot towards the sky, unfortunately taking me with it. I was surrounded in an ocean of blue. I was flying, a prisoner of my own bright blue casing, but flying nonetheless.
Then, as soon as it began, the light vanished. I opened my eyes, and blinked for a few minutes, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the dimness.
'Where am I?'
I exhaled, trying to catch my breath. The stench of death and burning flooded my lungs.
I looked up, desperately searching for a breath of fresh air. A black shadow crossed over the moons. Probably just a raven or a crow…wait! Moons? Yes there were two, and one looked suspiciously like earth also. So far away. I reached my hand to my planet in longing. A few feet away from me, there was a painful thump, and then a groan.
'What was that?'
I glanced over. 'Well, at least it's human,' I thought. 'Well not quite, he did have those wings…Wings? Wow this is too weird.'
Though I could hardly see their outline, in the eerie red light that didn't seem to have a source, I could see the tattered feathery extensions jutting out from his back.
Puzzled, I ventured a little closer, until I could see his face. He was handsome, to say the least. His hair was the palest blue, standing up in spikes, but long at the back. He had a small tattoo, purple, and shaped like a teardrop, just under his right eye. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his toned muscles only added to his image. He wore a kind of skirt-thing, almost like a robe, but with no top to it. He had a scabbard fastened around his waist, the sword was missing. My eyes seemed to direct themselves toward his right arm. It seemed to be made out of some kind of metal. 'A mechanical arm?'
Curious, I crept towards the silent figure, avoiding the gunfire over head, Slowly but surly I made my way over to His side. He was more heavenly up close that I had thought. His face, though scarred from the fall, still shone with the radiance of life itself, so pure and concentrated that you'd never see the like of it on earth. And this stone- faced warrior was still alive, still breathing, one glorious breath after another, still fighting for life with his very last available strength.
I just lay there, listening to the soft even whoosh of his tired lungs, wishing that I could help this fallen soldier, that I could go on forever just lying here beside him, entranced in his beauty.
There were feathers scattered all around him. Now that I was nearer to him, I could see that his wings were dark, almost pitch. A small puddle of blood was forming around him. I felt like I was going to be sick.
"You must have been hurt pretty badly, whoever you are," I said to no one in particular. Searching his side, I found the wound. It looked like a small shard of metal had lodged itself between two ribs. I couldn't take the object out of him, so I ripped off my sleeve and made a makeshift bandage, then tied it around him with the hem from his robe. It was torn anyway. I sat down beside him, and waited for any sign of consciousness…
Whether it had been an hour or twenty minutes, It seemed like forever. I cursed myself for forgetting my watch at home. The unknown soldier was still unconscious. I wondered what his eyes looked like. I reached out to touch him, but when my hand had come within reach of him, he groaned. His eyes fluttered open; deep amber pools studied me with compassion and sorrow. He must have already known that he was going to die.
He spoke. " Come here, child, I wish to share my story with you, for I have never told anyone what has happened to me, and I won't have the chance again." His voice was soft, he reminded me of the snowflakes outside the window at school. Cold, but without meaning to be, like it just came naturally. I made my way over to his right side, the one with the metal arm. I knew he would get to that part of his life eventually, so I didn't ask about it. It was better to wait. I snuggled up to his chest, and he put the arm around me. I was surprised, the metal was soft, but that's not what surprised me; it was warm. He swallowed, and started his tale.
"My name is Folken Fanel de Lacour, and I was the eldest son of the king of Fanailia." He pronounced his name in almost a French accent, but not quite. The rolling "r" and unpronounced consonants seemed not to matter. He continued.
"I had a young brother, Van. My life was wonderful, full of adventure, love, and mystery. I had decades ahead of me. But that all changed the day my father was killed." He scrunched up his eyebrows, and closed his eyes against the flood of memories that must have surfaced after that statement. He regained his composture, and, a little shakily, started again.
"I was only fourteen, but that also made me eligible to rule Fanailia. To become king, I had to prove my worth in a test of skill and power. I had to slay a dragon. For two years I trained, relentlessly trying to master the sword techniques and adapt to the life of a warrior. It wasn't enough." He paused to take a breath. "The demon lizard devoured my arm and left me for dead." Folken sighed. "When I came to, I was in some kind of medical facility. The technology was far more advanced than I had ever seen before. When I reached out to touch the equipment that rested on a trolley beside my bed, I was greeted with this hideous monster." He lifted the metal arm that was around my waist.
" I learned that the people who had saved my life were working on a 'fate altering machine' and it could predict the future. It had told them that I would be useful to their cause. My new residence was called 'The Floating Fortress'. They experimented on abducted little children. I can still hear the screams, they never stop. He shut his eyes, as if to block out the noise.
"My saviors trained my in the art of combat and sorcery. At the age of eighteen, my wings grew in, almost four years too late! But that's not the worst of it, their colour was wrong, gray instead of white. They gradually darkened to the pitch colour they are now." He fluttered a wing for effect. "I soon discovered that they tested me with the fate machine while I was unconscious, knocking decades off of my life span! They told me I wouldn't live past thirty at best!" He took a deep breath, calming himself down. " I turned twenty-six last month. Looks like I won't even get to thirty."
He blinked rapidly, holding back tears. I hugged him gently, trying to give him comfort without hurting him. I wonder who it pained more to hear his story. I was almost in tears myself.
He started talking again. "The first phase in testing the fate machine was to test it on my own birthplace, the kingdom of Fanailia. The very day after my brother, Van, was crowned king. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, looking into the cold, unforgiving eyes of my brother. Maybe it was better that he thought me dead. I helped him escape the clutches of the Zaibach empire, though I could do nothing for my…his people.
" I was not caught for helping free my brother, fortunately. What the Zaibach does to traitors…you do not want to know. One day, The Floating Fortress was destroyed. I used my wings to save myself, and no one else survived the blast. My first thought was to find my brother, for I had lost all of the best years brothers have together. I searched every town, every village I could find. At last I found him. I asked for sanctuary with him, and agreed to tell him all information about the Zaibach Empire.
"Last week, my brother mysteriously disappeared. The Zaibach Empire took advantage of this, and waged war against what was left of Fanailia, and all loyal to her. Van has not returned, and I fear the worst. I'll never be able to see him again." A sob racked through his body; his shoulders shook.
"Please." He said. "Help me sit up, I don't want to die like this. I rolled off of Folken, and managed to get the man to sit. To prevent him from falling, I leaned against his back, between the two fluffy, yet somewhat tattered wings. Delicate feathers surrounded me.
"I'm glad I had a chance to share my story with you, I only wish my brother were here. All I want is to be remembered, and forgiven in his eyes. I've left him so…much… responsibility.
Folken's body went limp, he slouched forward.
"Folken?" 'Oh no!'
I stood up, my knees shaking from the effort. I lowered him gently to the ground, so he could face the sky. It was, after all, where he belonged. Carefully, I stretched out his wings, and fluffed the feathers. I picked up the mechanical arm and folded it on his chest, then found the other, and clasped them together. He looked so peaceful, just like he was asleep. I looked up at the distant earth, wishing that I could go back, away from this madness and blood shed. A tear found it's way down my cheek, and more followed it.
I felt the glow surround me, but I didn't care. All I wanted to do was grieve for Folken, for the poor soldier who had wasted his life away, what little of it he had. I started being lifted into the tube, but still my eyes remained closed. I wanted to shut out the entire scene.
Thump! I was back; cold linoleum, scratched and scuffed by more feet than I could count, greeted my hands. The window was gray and boring, I'd never thought of it that way before. Even the falling snowflakes didn't draw my attention anymore. I inspected my clothes. They were just as they had been before I left, no torn sleeve or blood stains anywhere. My hair was still up in the ponytail, which had been ripped out by the blue light.
'Was it all just a dream?'
No it was too real to be a dream. It had to be real, it just had to…
A small black feather floated down in front of me. I snatched it out of the air, making sure it was real and clutching to it as if my whole sanity depended on it. Well, it really does, I guess. I stared at the feather, twirling it in my fingers. I wonder how much time had passed.
'I had better get to class before Mr. Franklin has a fit!'
On the landing I turned and looked out the window again.
"Goodbye, my fallen angel," I whispered to the wavering, snow covered trees outside, knowing that he couldn't hear me. I didn't care.