Why?
This is my fanfic. I do not own Daine... (that sounded etchi) and I do not own any other of Tamora Pierce-sama's characters, but I do own mine.
Steal them and the wolves of the Dutch house will eat you.
Domo!
The sky was looming, dark and ominous. Down on the main path that led from the castle in Corous to the forest, a small pale boy with large golden wings ran, his feet bare and blistered, his chest bare and scratched, and the remains of a long golden kilt around his waist tattered and torn. And still he ran.
He turned around, running as fast he could. He knew the horses were faster, but that didn't matter. He would try running, and when his feet gave out, the wings would help. He stumbled slightly, the gash the theives had given him aching in his side.
He growled. The soldiers shouldn't be chasing him! He had arrived, literally falling from the sky, spraining one of his wings and nearly breaking his legs. The horse theives he had landed near had thought him an attacker, and attacked first. They had stabbed him, and he had killed them all. Then the soldiers arrived. They did not ask him what had happened. They looked at the blood on his hands, the dead men, the broken sword on the ground, and the wings, and instantly insisted he relax and come closer to them.
He knew better than that. Whenever people, especially people different that he, asked him to relax and come closer, something bad happened afterwards. He shuddered in memory. The pitterings of rain woke him from his thoughts.
As he fled the men on horseback, he screamed in his mind. He tried to call his friends, but they were too far away...
"Stop running!" one of the men on one of the horses shouted. The boy stole another glance over his shoulder, and judged the distance between his placement on the well-worn path and the field ahead. The trees now above him were too close together... As he neared the field, his wings shot open, and he leapt into the air.
He could hear the soldiers swear as he soared above them. Laughter ripped from his throat as the giant golden wings beat furiously, carrying him far above the tiny men on their tiny horses, and the small castle he was approaching. He sensed power there...
A shrill laughter on his side made him spin, panicked, in the air. A thing, made of steel and flesh, floated beside him, with wings made of metal rather than soft feather. It screeched another laughter, and he recoiled in the air, the stench of sickness and death rolled off it.
"What's a little thing like you doing in these mean skies?" it cackled.
Without his knowledge, several other beasts flew in a sphere around him. When he realized, he gasped, dropping a few feet in the air. The monster beneath him zoomed up, scaring the winged boy back into his place.
"Y-you're Eaters!" the boy shouted, his voice tense. He was afraid. Even in his world, the Eaters existed and were feared, that is, until about four hundred years ago. It was around then that the Eaters vanished, and most people forgot about them.
Except the boy. His royal training, his training to be King of a people that ceased to exist, his training to be King of a country claimed by others, his training was useless. He choked back a sob. If he did not find his friends, and soon, he would be entirely alone. Alone and probably killed by the sky-greedy Eaters.
"We prefer Stormwings," the Eater that distracted him said.
"Stormwings?"
"We cause 'storms' with our 'wings'. Bright sort, aren't you?" the female beast sneered.
The boy shivered in the sky, remembering his aunt.
"Shouldn't you-" one of the other Eaters began.
A trio of electric globes soared in close to the flyers, one blue, one violet, one black with white sparks. The Eaters scattered, and the boy, sensing danger, flew higher into the air.
A tiny hawk flew closer to him, around him. Fearing sickness in the creature, he swatted at it, striking one wing. It screamed a cry that sounded vaguely human, and began to fall towards the ground.
O.o
Numair cursed fluently. The Stormwings were gone, but the strange immortal, the human with wings, had stayed, staring down at the castle. Daine had, as usual, insisted in being involved, so now she streaked towards the strange one in a perigrine falcon form. Alanna came near to him, resting one hand on his shoulder. "Relax. She'll be-"
The strange immortal had reached forward, attacking Daine as she circled him. Even from this distance, Numair's mage abilities told him Daine's wing was broken. He cursed, sending a protecting bubble that would carry her, safely, back to the castle roof.
The immortal had dove, catching Daine just as the bubble did. The bubble, true to the spell, expanded, carrying both back to the castle wall.
Now it was Alanna's turn to curse. She called to the others on the roof, mostly a mass of half-awake Trainees, to ready bows brought just for this purpose. As they readied arrows on longbows and crossbows, the bubble landed.
It popped, with a wet sound, and the contents were dumped on the cold stone.
A wet, naked Daine rolled out of the arms of the collapsed monster. As she stumbled to her feet, Numair reached forward, draping his cloak over his shoulders.
The thing moaned, pushing itself on to its knees. Daine slipped out of Numair's grip and knelt beside it.
"You alright?" she whispered as she brushed her soaked dark curls from her eyes.
The thing looked up, with squinting eyes. When it saw how close she was, it leapt up and back, flipping through the air. The archer's arrows followed it closely, and it landed on the wall smoothly.
It began to rain.
Daine stepped forward again, but this time, the King himself stopped her. He went towards the creature, but Alanna stopped him. Exasperated, Numair stomped forward.
The thing had its head down, panting harshly. As the mage reached forward, touching the drooping wings, it did not even move. As he touched the pale bare shoulder, it crumpled, falling backwards. The mage instantly shouted a word, and the creature was lifted from the air, floating beside the mage.
"You," he commanded, pointing at one of the trainees. The girl swallowed nervously, but nodded.
"Prepare the healers. We're bringing an unknown immortal down for healing. I want the best healers, along with a group of ten archers waiting for us. Go!"
The girl ran off, carrying her crossbow.
Daine stepped forward, frowning. "Numair, he's not an immortal."
The mage blinked, then frowned. "What?"
"He's just a boy with wings." She went to the boy's side, tossing some of his mud-dirty hair out of his eyes. "He's alone," she whispered, closing her eyes. Her eyes snapped open, and she immediately moved his arm off his side. Numair glanced at her hands as she lifted them for him to see.
They were covered in a sheet of thick red blood.
This is my fanfic. I do not own Daine... (that sounded etchi) and I do not own any other of Tamora Pierce-sama's characters, but I do own mine.
Steal them and the wolves of the Dutch house will eat you.
Domo!
The sky was looming, dark and ominous. Down on the main path that led from the castle in Corous to the forest, a small pale boy with large golden wings ran, his feet bare and blistered, his chest bare and scratched, and the remains of a long golden kilt around his waist tattered and torn. And still he ran.
He turned around, running as fast he could. He knew the horses were faster, but that didn't matter. He would try running, and when his feet gave out, the wings would help. He stumbled slightly, the gash the theives had given him aching in his side.
He growled. The soldiers shouldn't be chasing him! He had arrived, literally falling from the sky, spraining one of his wings and nearly breaking his legs. The horse theives he had landed near had thought him an attacker, and attacked first. They had stabbed him, and he had killed them all. Then the soldiers arrived. They did not ask him what had happened. They looked at the blood on his hands, the dead men, the broken sword on the ground, and the wings, and instantly insisted he relax and come closer to them.
He knew better than that. Whenever people, especially people different that he, asked him to relax and come closer, something bad happened afterwards. He shuddered in memory. The pitterings of rain woke him from his thoughts.
As he fled the men on horseback, he screamed in his mind. He tried to call his friends, but they were too far away...
"Stop running!" one of the men on one of the horses shouted. The boy stole another glance over his shoulder, and judged the distance between his placement on the well-worn path and the field ahead. The trees now above him were too close together... As he neared the field, his wings shot open, and he leapt into the air.
He could hear the soldiers swear as he soared above them. Laughter ripped from his throat as the giant golden wings beat furiously, carrying him far above the tiny men on their tiny horses, and the small castle he was approaching. He sensed power there...
A shrill laughter on his side made him spin, panicked, in the air. A thing, made of steel and flesh, floated beside him, with wings made of metal rather than soft feather. It screeched another laughter, and he recoiled in the air, the stench of sickness and death rolled off it.
"What's a little thing like you doing in these mean skies?" it cackled.
Without his knowledge, several other beasts flew in a sphere around him. When he realized, he gasped, dropping a few feet in the air. The monster beneath him zoomed up, scaring the winged boy back into his place.
"Y-you're Eaters!" the boy shouted, his voice tense. He was afraid. Even in his world, the Eaters existed and were feared, that is, until about four hundred years ago. It was around then that the Eaters vanished, and most people forgot about them.
Except the boy. His royal training, his training to be King of a people that ceased to exist, his training to be King of a country claimed by others, his training was useless. He choked back a sob. If he did not find his friends, and soon, he would be entirely alone. Alone and probably killed by the sky-greedy Eaters.
"We prefer Stormwings," the Eater that distracted him said.
"Stormwings?"
"We cause 'storms' with our 'wings'. Bright sort, aren't you?" the female beast sneered.
The boy shivered in the sky, remembering his aunt.
"Shouldn't you-" one of the other Eaters began.
A trio of electric globes soared in close to the flyers, one blue, one violet, one black with white sparks. The Eaters scattered, and the boy, sensing danger, flew higher into the air.
A tiny hawk flew closer to him, around him. Fearing sickness in the creature, he swatted at it, striking one wing. It screamed a cry that sounded vaguely human, and began to fall towards the ground.
O.o
Numair cursed fluently. The Stormwings were gone, but the strange immortal, the human with wings, had stayed, staring down at the castle. Daine had, as usual, insisted in being involved, so now she streaked towards the strange one in a perigrine falcon form. Alanna came near to him, resting one hand on his shoulder. "Relax. She'll be-"
The strange immortal had reached forward, attacking Daine as she circled him. Even from this distance, Numair's mage abilities told him Daine's wing was broken. He cursed, sending a protecting bubble that would carry her, safely, back to the castle roof.
The immortal had dove, catching Daine just as the bubble did. The bubble, true to the spell, expanded, carrying both back to the castle wall.
Now it was Alanna's turn to curse. She called to the others on the roof, mostly a mass of half-awake Trainees, to ready bows brought just for this purpose. As they readied arrows on longbows and crossbows, the bubble landed.
It popped, with a wet sound, and the contents were dumped on the cold stone.
A wet, naked Daine rolled out of the arms of the collapsed monster. As she stumbled to her feet, Numair reached forward, draping his cloak over his shoulders.
The thing moaned, pushing itself on to its knees. Daine slipped out of Numair's grip and knelt beside it.
"You alright?" she whispered as she brushed her soaked dark curls from her eyes.
The thing looked up, with squinting eyes. When it saw how close she was, it leapt up and back, flipping through the air. The archer's arrows followed it closely, and it landed on the wall smoothly.
It began to rain.
Daine stepped forward again, but this time, the King himself stopped her. He went towards the creature, but Alanna stopped him. Exasperated, Numair stomped forward.
The thing had its head down, panting harshly. As the mage reached forward, touching the drooping wings, it did not even move. As he touched the pale bare shoulder, it crumpled, falling backwards. The mage instantly shouted a word, and the creature was lifted from the air, floating beside the mage.
"You," he commanded, pointing at one of the trainees. The girl swallowed nervously, but nodded.
"Prepare the healers. We're bringing an unknown immortal down for healing. I want the best healers, along with a group of ten archers waiting for us. Go!"
The girl ran off, carrying her crossbow.
Daine stepped forward, frowning. "Numair, he's not an immortal."
The mage blinked, then frowned. "What?"
"He's just a boy with wings." She went to the boy's side, tossing some of his mud-dirty hair out of his eyes. "He's alone," she whispered, closing her eyes. Her eyes snapped open, and she immediately moved his arm off his side. Numair glanced at her hands as she lifted them for him to see.
They were covered in a sheet of thick red blood.