One more thing...

Lovino pulsed his wings and floated backwards. The breeze parted his brother's ruddy bangs. They couldn't be up here forever. The sun was rising higher and higher. Their wings would get too hot and dry up, or at least secrete way too much oily fairy dust and stain their clothes. Then Feliciano would learn the pain of scrubbing a white shirt until it was absolutely glitter-free — and that was impossible. Lovino knew. He'd been teased for his glitter spots at school.

"What's your idea? I haven't got all morning. If you want to spend time with me, we can make breakfast together, too."

"Yay! Okay, so I thought I'd make it a little windy since you always complained about the sea breeze up at school. I'll use the spell I learned from Grandpa a long time ago."

"No. No wind. Balancing in still air is hard enough."

"You don't have to balance. You just have to fly with the wind. Just a little for practice. I can do it, too! We can do it together!"

"But you're already better at it."

"Not always. Wind is a challenge."

"Felice—"

But Feliciano ignored the warning and placed his hands so that the tips of his longest fingers rested upon his throat. His lips parted, and he began to sing. Lovino was already descending, but something held him in place. That voice. There was no escaping it. It was annoying in speech, but captivating in song. It flowed like silken sunshine woven with joy — so soft upon the skin and like balm for the ailing mind.

"Windy, windy, windy, windy!"

Lovino felt a disturbance among the plants. The leaves shivered at the sudden changes in pressure and temperature. The shadows upon the grass deepened and darkened as the clouds above rolled in faster and heavier. The vines gave off a prickly, electric sensation that ran up and down Lovino's spine.

Rain? Wind means rain?

"No, it doesn't mean rain, you dumb, leafy aah!"

For one second, Lovino saw the curled tips of his top wings bent in front of him. He made out the tiniest veins running beneath the coating of fairy dust and the tough, permanent cartilage. It took his brain another second to figure out why that was wrong, and by that time, he was hurtling forward through the air, and bent wings were the least of his problems.

Feliciano hadn't conjured a little wind. With zero effort as usual, he'd conjured a swirling gale that was worsening by the second. Lovino saw his bootless feet again and again. He strained his wings, but they had already ceased fluttering and now flapped uselessly on his back. The air was a grayish-whitish-greenish miasma of confusion before him. The plants roiled and reveled in their nature-given dance, but soon their voices were lost in Lovino's terrified distraction.

He pushed his hands out to the sides and spread his wings, whizzing them as fast as he could. His body righted, then was forced backwards. Everything flew away from him. The vineyard disappeared into a greenish speck, and the villa was soon consumed by the jarring vibration of it all. Then the current swept him sideways and he saw everything rushing past again.

SLAM!

His right wings throbbed, and his shoulder burned. He'd met a tree from behind, and he was startled into a howling and screeching fury. Still the magically-charged air whipped his hair back from his face and tore at the seams of his clothing. A branch slammed into his back. He scraped his heel on the arboreal ramp he'd created earlier.

"Felice! Stop this now!"

Feliciano could not hear him over the roar of the storm. Lovino couldn't even see his brother up where he once floated. Idiot. He must have entered the gale himself to make the challenge equal. Because Feliciano always assumed he was equal to others.

Lovino's back was beginning to ache now. The strong muscles connecting his wings to the insides of his shoulder blades were spraining as he pushed them harder and harder. If he didn't keep flapping and fluttering, he'd tumble head over heels again and slam into the mud or the trees or right into the wall of the villa.

Feliciano, you idiot.

Lovino flipped himself. Then, using that same twist at the waist he'd practiced, righted himself so he was flying horizontally with the wind. His body wobbled terribly to and fro. His arms and legs jiggled uselessly beneath him, but he angled his wings so the wind pushed him forward, then flapped and flapped and flapped! Yes, he was ascending! Ascending right into…

He cursed. Something had clipped his wing again. It had looked like a freaking shingle. A few more were headed in his direction, and he rolled awkwardly out of their way. Every muscle was twitching to right and balance him. His shoulders tensed backwards. His neck raised. He threw his arms out in front of him, then pushed them back to his sides. His legs flutter-kicked through the air behind, steely calves coiled for strength. There was a way out of this. He would not crash again! Just the thought of crashing made him even colder, and like his late papà, he hated being cold!

He saw the arboreal ramp again. With all his might, he propelled his body upward and over it. The current tugged him right, and he fought to go left. His wings were a part of him. They worked for him, not against him. He just needed the feel of balance and control. The wind was like his energy. He weaved and flowed upon its dangerous waves like a spark of thought. He'd been caught off guard, but now, with so much on the line…

"Eehhh! Lovi! Help me!"

"Dang it, Felice, where did you — oof!"

He felt his brother's body slam into his back, and he was knocked far off kilter again. He twisted, then splayed his legs and caught Feliciano around his waist. Feliciano wriggled and squealed, terrified. His wings beat furiously at Lovino's face and sides. The wind had burned his face a bit, and his wrinkled cloud of a shirt was stained with mud. He swiped at nothing until he found one of Lovino's legs and clung to it like a frightened child.

Which he was, of course.

"All right, this is over. Now," Lovino grunted. He squeezed Feliciano tighter and tighter as he fought against the current he was a part of. He could do this!

Twist!

Kick!

Balance!

Lovino shot sideways through the air, deftly dodging the ramp one last time before hurtling out of the dissipating whirlwind and toward the ground. He bent his knees and whizzed his wings as fast as he could to slow himself down. Body trembling, yet perfectly level, he set his feet on blessed earth, and the grass tickled his toes to greet him.

~N~

Buon Compleanno~! The conclusion will be out March 19th. Remember to vote and keep up with Hetafata: The Snarled Circle Chronicles!

Published by Syntax-N 17 March, 2020. Reposters will be cursed.