Chapter 38: Birthday Song

The days that followed the massacre were like a bleak, hazy daydream.

The surviving illagers were left to lick their wounds while idling in the mansion's hallways and chambers, which felt increasingly bigger and emptier. For what it's worth, the fighting among them stopped completely. That was good. The last thing any of us needed was more casualties.

They had sorted out a system for distributing food to everyone. One person would reap the wheat that was growing in one of the private rooms on the first floor, and another would relocate it to one of the dining rooms, where rations of bread would be served.

It may not have been much, but honestly, that was some of the best bread most of us had ever tasted. We weren't in a position to properly enjoy it, though.

Alex wasn't quite over the vex incident, in spite of all my attempts to sooth her sorrow. She would oftentimes smile at me, as though to reassure me that she was holding up well. I appreciated it, but I knew that it was going to take a while for the sun to shine.

That isn't to say she was sitting around in apathy. She kept herself busy with comforting the four allays that survived, and would seldom read in one of the libraries. I wasn't certain what she was searching for, but I was too busy with a project of my own to pry. It was something I kept secret from everybody, since I didn't want to give them false hopes in case I failed.

I was trying to find a way to restore Sunbeam's ability to fly. On occasion, I'd pass by the allays' room, and see her sitting near a corner, alone. The three other allays would talk to her on occasion, some even going as far as to provide physical comfort in the form of hugs, but none actually succeeded in eliciting a reaction out of her.

Feeling emotionally capable, I undertook the task of creating a prosthetic wing for her. The poor thing couldn't even fly up one block before getting exhausted.

At first, I consulted the crafting table, and the recipe book. I searched every crafting recipe in every category, yet nothing seemed suitable. That meant I had to piece something together on my own.

One night, after stealthily slipping out of our bed, I crept over to where the allays were sleeping, and lifted Sunbeam's remaining wing in order to get a proper estimate of its weight and measurements, careful not to rouse her. As a side note, Sunbeam would sleep with us some nights, but usually preferred not to.

In any case, after a lot of trial and error, over the span of multiple days, I managed to pull together something I deemed worthwhile. A make-shift wing made of sticks, and oak leaves, all bound together with string.

I showed it to Alex one morning, during one of our usual lunches, and she was left speechless at first.

"When…did you make this?"

"I…had some time to spare."

For the first time in a long while, I saw an authentic smile reach her eyes. We wasted no time before presenting the wing to our saddened child.

I could practically see the inner calculations of her mind, as she realized what this was meant to serve as. Alex had trouble holding her down, while I was tying the substitute wing to the short stump that was left of her original wing. She was so excited at the prospect of flying again, I couldn't really blame her for not keeping still.

Once I made sure the prosthetic was well secured, I let her go, and took a step back. Meekly at first, Sunbeam flapped her wings once. Then, again. Soon enough, she was airborne! It was mesmerizing to see her soar through the air again.

It didn't last long.

A particularly sudden twirl became the reason for her ecstasy to shatter like a glass bottle. The wing's components burst apart, and landed in various places on the floor, leaving Sunbeam without support.

We both got so close to catching her, but she landed face-first on the carpet.

She wasn't moving.

We hurriedly turned her around, and a part of me broke seeing her barely able to hold back her tears, sniffling. She soon broke free of our grasp, and haphazardly ran to her room, not used to moving her legs.

That was a rough night. The worst part of this ordeal was that the plan worked at first, just enough to tease Sunbeam with a taste of what she lost. The wing's shape, weight and size were correct. There just had to be a way to make it sturdier.

Even though the end result ultimately worsened Sunbeam's already damaged morale, a part of me still had hope.

"You're irritated. I can lend you an ear if you need," Alex offered from her side of the bed.

"...Can you think of something that can hold this thing together, aside from string?"

She removed her hair tie before replying with uncertainty.

"Um, the only thing that could maybe work, is some honeycomb to wax all the pieces together with."

"Wait, is that even craftable? I never found it in the recipe book…"

"It's not craftable, no. To get it, one must shear a beehive, which is no easy task. Even so, I don't know if it'll even work; wax is heavy."

I pondered for a moment, but eventually reached the conclusion that it didn't matter if it sounded unlikely; we had to try everything we could. Sunbeam deserved at least that much. Hence why, I decided to go along with the plan, and retrieve some honeycomb.

"Hang on a moment, Steve. How about I go and get some tomorrow? I know how to do it safely. You can just focus on making the wing once I return."

I couldn't find a reason to argue with that suggestion. She could maybe use the expedition as a way to get her mind off of things, if even just for a short while. Not to mention, if she wanted to get involved with this, I wanted to support her. I could console Sunbeam until she'd come back.

"Alright. I'll hold the fort while you're away."

"Thank you. Sleep well…"

"You too."

The morning greeted me with an odd sense of coldness. Alex had already left, it seemed, so her spot was empty. I was surprised that I hadn't felt nor heard her leave, but maybe I was sleeping deeper than I thought.

She had left a note for me. All it wrote was, 'Good morning.'. It was simple, but it still somehow managed to warm my heart.

After swiftly going through my mundane morning routine, I decided to pay Sunbeam a visit, but when I found her still asleep, I chose not to disturb her.

I checked up on her quite a few times, but even though her position was slightly altered each time, that still didn't change the fact that she was not awake. The need to find something else to occupy myself with led my mind to the old wing design, and any potential improvements I could work on.

'Maybe feathers instead of oak leaves could work. Perhaps even a combination of the two has potential…'

I didn't get much time to experiment with the idea, before Alex came back. I was surprised to see her back so quickly; it was around noon still.

"Ah, welcome back. How did the search go?"

"Well enough. I found two beehives relatively close to each other, which helped. How's Sunbeam?"

"Last I checked, she was sleeping."

That perplexed her, and rightfully so.

"Still?"

"I found it strange, too, but figured she needed the rest."

"Fair enough, I suppose… Here's the honeycomb."

She handed me six pieces of the sticky material, which I estimated to be a sufficient amount.

"Nicely done! Say, I was wondering; do we have any chicken feathers lying around?"

"I believe there may be some in one of the storage rooms."

"In that case, could you bring me some? I'll be in the office."

"You've got it."

While working on the upgraded version of the wing, a part of me couldn't help but worry. What if the wing would still fall apart, even with the waxing? How would Sunbeam react to such a scenario? I didn't even want to think about it…

After some meticulous work, the new model was finished. It was of an identical shape, and similar enough weight to the old one. The primary differences were that the sticks were held together by both string and wax from the honeycomb, and the feathers were added along the leaves for aerodynamics' sake. It wasn't the prettiest design around, but practicality had to come first.

I put it under a stress test by gently bending it at first, and shaking it wildly afterwards. If it couldn't handle that, there was no way it would last. If Sunbeam wouldn't be able to twirl around as she willed, then this would be useless.

Thankfully, it held on impressively well.

Satisfied, I made my way over to the allays' room once more. Alex was standing outside. By peering in, I noticed that Sunbeam had woken up, and was sitting facing towards a corner, much like how she had been doing days prior.

We both stepped inside, and I walked up to her.

"Sunbeam, we made you a new wing."

No reaction.

"It's sturdier than the last one. Want to try it on?"

After an unsettlingly long pause, she shook her head negatively, which caught both of us off-guard.

"Why not?" Alex asked.

Again, no reaction. I didn't know what to make of this. She was so eager last time… Had I really betrayed her trust that much?

…

That had to be it. The real question now was, 'How do I make it up to her?'

"I'm sorry about last time. I would have never given the old wing to you if I had known it was unsafe."

Still nothing. Alex had admired my way with words before; I couldn't let that be in vain. After a short sigh, I kneeled behind her.

"I'm going to be absolutely honest with you, Sunbeam. If you try this wing on, you still might never fly again. However, if you don't give it a chance, with the way things are now, you will definitely never fly again."

"..."

"No matter what you choose, though, I want you to know that I love you. We both do. And we always will, regardless of whether you can fly or not. We will both stand by you, and be there for you every step of the way. Isn't that right, Alex?"

She sat next to me, and placed a hand on Sunbeam's shoulder.

"That's right. We will move heaven and earth to offer you the best life we can. Make whichever choice feels right, sweety."

"..."

There was no response…at first. Subtly, her remaining wing was starting to flap. Even the stump was moving in tandem. We both took that as a sign to proceed. We attached the new prosthetic, and coated it with wax on the stump.

As an additional protective measure we also tied it using multiple strands of string, which we also loosely wrapped around her slim torso. It almost looked like a bandage.

"Okay. Give it a try," Alex urged her.

She did, even if the movement was anemic at first. The feathers and the leaves rustled softly. Hesitantly, she stood up, barely reaching our hips, and faced us. I couldn't quite decipher what the look she was giving us meant, which in a way, kind of reminded me of her mother. It was like a strange mix between sadness and determination.

For the first time that day, she made an honest attempt to fly.

Gradually, she lifted herself off the floor. Her movements were deliberate and hesitant, a noticeable departure from last time. She kept testing the waters. She maneuvered upwards, downwards, forwards and backwards, all successfully.

"Try twirling when you're ready," I suggested.

"Don't be afraid. We will catch you if we have to."

This was the ultimate test, and it was going to show whether our work would pay off or not. Bracing herself, Sunbeam got into position, and…twirled.

We all remained silent for a moment, just to let that sink in. Sunbeam broke it first, as she wiped those tears of joy that had swelled in her eyes. Suddenly, she zoomed up to my face and kissed me on the cheek, and wasted no time before giving Alex the same reward.

We both hugged her tightly, savoring that moment of love. I felt the fatigue that had been building up inside of me those last few days wear off. We stood there in the middle of the room, none of us saying anything.

That isn't to say it was quiet though; sniffles and laughs of relief were plentiful. Even though it was as if time had frozen, the hug did eventually end, and when it did, Sunbeam and her remaining allay pals left the room and started flying about in the hall.

Alex and I stared at the spectacle before us, until our eyes met. She gave me a sweet smile, which I returned wholeheartedly. She took my hands in hers.

"Thank you," she said.

"..."

"...I just…don't know where I'd be without you right now. I don't think Sunbeam would have ever been able to fly again if it weren't for you."

"And I don't think I would have ever been able to make that wing without you. Your contribution was just as vital."

"..."

"..."

"We're free now, you know? We're free to live the life we want, Alex."

She nodded happily.

"That's right. There's still…one thing left for me to do, though," she admitted.

"Which is?" I asked, before remembering immediately after.

"I'll get rid of these powers. You were right; they don't reflect who I am anymore, and I want nothing to do with them."

The addition of yet another obstacle of sorts bummed me out, but I knew this was important to her.

"Okay… Do you know how you're going to do that?"

"I…may be onto something."

"Well, you have my support."

"I know… Thank you."