A small girl about ten years old lay in a back alley. Her legs were crushed beyond repair. Her mother had been a Kim-Un-Kur slave, and her father was a Sailand noble. They couldn't help her now; they didn't even know where she was. She looked up at the sky and her eyes fixed on a single dove flying above her. Slowly, painfully, she lifted her hands to the sky, as though begging for its help.
Four years later, a slave market bustled with noise. A fourteen-year-old girl sat in a large cage. She had no clothes on, only a layer of feathers covering her torso and abdomen. Huge, pure white wings protruded from her back. Many people stopped to look at her, but none of them had nearly enough money to buy her. A man walked past, his clothes and his purse heavy with wealth. He stopped in front of her. "Is she a +anima?" he asked the shopkeeper. He nodded. "How much?" asked the rich man. "Nine thousand Gillah," the keeper replied. The man peered at her. "She's not really worth all that much, is she?" he remarked. The girl lowered her head, attempting to hide herself behind her wings. He turned back to the shopkeep. "I'll give you eight thousand," he offered. "Done!"
He kept her in a cage in his house. One day, when she was fifteen, she awoke to see the noble's son opening the door to her cage. He smiled. "C'mere," he said, beckoning with his hand. She cocked her head to the side, taking in the situation, and slowly, cautiously moved towards him. As soon as she was within arms' reach, he grabbed her and kissed her on the lips. She was surprised, and she panicked and bit him. He cried out in pain and jumped back. He put his hand to his mouth and tasted blood. "Why, you little…" He leaped towards her and pinned her arms down with one hand and started to punch her with the other. His hands ripped at her hair and feathers. She tried to scream, but when he opened her mouth, his fist hit it. Gasping and coughing, her wings seemed to collapse, and the feathers fell off her body. She screamed a piercing, mind-numbing, awful scream. He hit her a few more times, then stood up and left her broken, beaten, battered, bruised and bloody body behind.
Kazana silently landed in the courtyard and walked toward the cage that stood off to the side. A sixteen-year-old girl stared back at him with a hollow expression. "I'm gonna get you out of here," he whispered. He walked around to the side and fiddled with the lock until it popped open. He stuck his hand in and beckoned to her. "Come on," he said. She sat there for a moment, then crawled towards him. He pulled her out of the cage and wrapped a blanket around her. "Let's go." He took her hand and started walking, but she stopped, looking around. "What's wrong?" he said. She broke away from him and ran across the courtyard, stopping at a heavy wooden door. "You want to go through there?" he asked. He opened the door and she ran through. Kazana followed her, opening the doors for her, until finally she came to a bedroom. The room was darkened, yet she easily navigated her way to the bed and crawled onto it so she was sitting on top of its occupant. Her wings almost glowed in the darkness. She poked the boy in the throat, and he woke up. "You—!" he exclaimed, "What are you doing here?" Realization dawned on him, and he panicked. "Oh god," he said, "please don't hurt me, I didn't mean it, I swear I didn't mean it, don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" He tried to shield his face with his arms, but she pinned them down. He struggled, but he couldn't get free, and started to cry. Silently, she lifted her wings into the air, bent down… and gently kissed him. He was startled, and froze for a minute. When he could finally move, he dashed out into the courtyard, only to find that they were gone. He collapsed on his knees and screamed out in despair.