Chey-Ara strolled the streets of Gotham in broad daylight. It was different, walking in public without wings. She felt lighter. She had more energy. But…she wouldn't trade her wings for anything in the cosmos. Not everyone from Lower Thanagar were gifted with replicas of the ruling family's wings. And on Thanagar, she wore those wings with pride. No one would dare spit at someone so high-ranking as she. With her wings, she was able to walk the streets of Thanagar in peace. Soldiers, Thanagarians, who considered her "breed" to be "a mistake made by the gods" had to show her respect. Authorities no longer made comments about her dark skin and accused her of crimes she didn't commit. Chey-Ara silently wished they continued flinging insults. It would be well within her rights to retaliate, and nothing would bring her greater joy.

Chey-Ara arrived at her destination, a street corner store. She couldn't believe that this small shop was the only place in Gotham that carried triple stuffed Chocos. Feeling her mood brighten, Chey-Ara nearly skipped into the store, still unaware that she was being followed.


Carter sat on a bench across the street, watching the young Hawk. She had visited this particular store every day for the last three weeks. At first, Carter thought the corner store was a clandestine destination chosen by the Hawk's handler. It wasn't until last week when the dark Thanagarian exited the store holding a box of Chocos, that he realized this Thanagarian had a sweet tooth bordering on addiction.

After that incident, Carter questioned whether she was an actual spy. Thanagarian spies weren't known for their indulgence. He followed her that same night. It was his first and last time following her, she seemed to be looking for something. And he did recognize the officer in her hologram meeting. But seeing her now…she was way too lax. She should have made Carter by now, but she never once looked his way. Of course, there was a chance that she knew she was being followed and was leading Carter to believe otherwise. However, …

He furrowed his brow. He would wait to tell the Justice League. If she really did come in peace, the last thing he wanted was her on the League's radar for two reasons. First, the female had to be no older than 19 Earth years. And the founding members of the Justice League were…well…they didn't seem to like young people with a lot of power who came from questionable backgrounds. (He knew about that female from Azarath. It wasn't as big of a secret the big three liked to pretend it was.)

Secondly, getting on the League's radar certifies that you will never have another day of peace for at least 5 years.

In conclusion, Carter would keep a closer eye on her. She was eating her weight in Chocos. That wasn't suspicious, it was disgusting.


Shayera stared pitifully at the birds flying in the sky. They were happy and free and chirping loudly. She hated them. She didn't want to look at them. Why was she able to see them? Why were the curtains open? Why did Alfred feel the need to open the curtains in Bruce's room every morning? Also, why did Bruce have floor to ceiling balcony doors made of glass? The sun neither rose nor set on this side of the manor. What was the point of these ginormous doors? Everything about this place pissed her off! And everything smelled like cedarwood, and mint with a hint of lavender. And the color blue – she hated the color blue. What was blue's deal? Judging her with his handsome face, playing dark knight in shining armor? Did blue eyes automatically mean gorgeousness?

And why were the birds chirping so loudly? Why were they happy? There was nothing to be happy about! There was no need for celebration! Those birds are so disrespectful, Shayera thought indignantly. Here she was, lying in a comfortable bed, wingless while the birds flew through the trees mocking her! That's what they were doing. They were mocking her! How dare they – Shayera immediately closed her eyes and inhaled as she turned her head away from the doors. She needed to take a breath.

Shayera laughed bitterly. Was she really sitting in this huge bed, blaming a family of chickadees and hummingbirds for her messed up life? How pathetic. She was losing it mentally. And did she just mentally vent about the color blue? Shayera released a bitter moan. She once read about the stages of grief humans went through. She didn't remember all of them, but she was pretty sure psychotic break wasn't one of them. What was her life becoming?

Shayera's gaze returned to the sky. Her frown only grew when she saw an eagle soar through the clouds at an incredible speed. Oh no, she thought as she felt a tingle in her brain. A memory was slowly squeezing its way through her emotional walls. "Please, no," Shayera muttered. She scoffed. Fighting her mind's attempt to relive the past would only make everything worse. She was going to have to let this memory play out.

Shayera sighed deeply, letting the flashback run its course.

"That's it! That's it!" her father encouraged while her mother clapped enthusiastically. She continued flapping her wings. This time, she was going to get halfway to the ceiling. "You got it! You got it! And…good job!" her father beamed as she landed in his arms. "You did great today, sweetie," her father cooed as her mother stroked her hair lovingly. "You are getting stronger and stronger."

"I am?" three-year-old Shayera asked as her parents' pride filled her with joy.

"Of course," her mother smiled. "Soon, you'll be able to touch the ceiling. And one day, you'll have wings as big as mine."

Shayera's eyes only widened in excitement. She couldn't wait for that day!

(two years later)

"It was necessary for your wing development," her father said. Five-year-old Shayera sat opposite her parents; her face was wrought with confusion. "Your wings are now strong enough to begin your training."

Shayera's tilted her head. She didn't understand what was happening. Her parents didn't want to be nice to her anymore?

"It seems harsh now," her mother spoke, not a single emotion on her face. "But this is for the good of Thanagar and your family."

"Your mother will give birth to another female in one week's time," Shayera's father continued. "As the eldest, you are my successor. You must be prepared for everything."

Shayera continued to stare at these strangers wearing the faces of her parents. She had no idea what they were talking about. Last night, they were laughing with her and tucking her into bed. But this afternoon, when her mother returned from the doctor, her parents were no longer smiling or laughing. And now her father wanted her to rule? Shayera didn't want to do that at all.

"Your training will begin tomorrow," her father concluded, "you are dismissed."

Shayera stared blankly at her parents. She didn't know what dismissed meant, but judging from her parents expressions – or lack thereof – she had no desire to ask. This environment was stifling. Her parents' faces were emotionless, and they wanted her to do something she didn't know how to do. So, Shayera did what felt right. She stood from the table and returned to her room.

Maybe this was all a dream, and her parents would return to their fun, loving selves.

Twelve hours later, Shayera now understood. The first four years of her life had been a dream. This, her present, was her new reality. And she was going to hate it.

Shayera gasped as she returned to the present. Silent tears were running down her face, and she didn't understand why. She shouldn't be crying over her childhood. She was a full-grown Thanagarian for Ar Rheon'ssake. But the tears wouldn't stop flowing. She desperately wanted them to stop, Shayera had no idea how to make them disappear.

With a sigh, Shayera allowed the tears to flow. Settling deeper into Bruce's enormous bed, she watched the birds soar until finally succumbing to sleep.