(Posted January 23, 2018)

Indigo Feathers

In which the Summer of the Drifting Storm occurs, and Julius familiarises himself with his father's work

"Up and at 'em, pint-size! I wanna see ya skippin' like sunshine if you and I are gonna seize the day. You're goin' places, kid, where the walkways are lined with stars and you wade in the golden stuff up to your belt buckles! I'm talking clicks and els! I'm talking topiaries! I'm talking-"

"Bloody smoke," I muttered, nestling deeper between Mona and Ashley. "It will never be late enough in the morning for this."

The claw came poking at my shoulder again, even when I tucked my head beneath my shoulder. Although I'd made leaps and bounds in my reading abilities over the last several years, I hadn't yet stumbled upon any texts in the Castle library (nor the public one in Luna's Landing that Mona and I sometimes frequented with her parents) which took the time to explain the concepts of so-called "magic-touched" knives in words that an inexperienced magic user could understand and utilise. Even then, my magic was ofttimes shaky. I was thus far reluctant to use myself as the first target for anything involving a combination of magic and sharp blades.

And where did I intend to fly off to if I did free the rope from my wings, anyway? Ha. No, something nonphysical had kept me rooted firmly to the Castle grounds throughout my youth. The concern of leaving my friends' sides? The reluctance to disobey the camarilla court? Fear of the unknown future? I had nearly isolated the variable, but I still wasn't quite sure.

The prodding finger jabbed me a third time. "Hey there, up on your feet now, kiddo. The big leagues are about to pack their bags and head on down south without ya. You need to own it, you need to make your mark, you need to wow and bedazzle to sell yourself as the big, big investment I know you can be!"

"Arrgh," Caden complained from another branch. "If the scurvy dog keeps this up, we'll be left with no choice but casting 'im overboard."

If I let the man ramble on much longer, he'd wake my tired friends. Mona had already flattened her ears against her skull. I forced open my eyelids and tilted my head. Another anti-fairy, much taller than I was and outfitted in striped blue and white pyjamas, dangled from the branch across from mine, with all his long yellow fangs showing when he grinned. "Anti-Richard?" I mumbled.

He spread his wings and arms together. "You betcha bottom lagelyn, sonny! Boy, have I ever got big news for ya, kiddo- big news. The flashy stuff, the classy stuff." With that, he shoved a scroll into my hands. I fumbled to unravel it (quietly) while he bounced up and down where he roosted. "It costs you absolutely nothing, and you have yourself an infinite amount of valuable knowledge to gain. Think of the exposure! Think of the pizazz! Keep up the pace on this here block and you'll hit the charts and turn catch of the day before you can holler a good ol' 'Hallelujah!'"

"Shut up," Electro moaned.

"Wait," I managed when I was halfway down the page. "Is the source of this memo actually a reputable one?"

"Reputable?" Anti-Richard bellowed in my face with enough force to knock me backwards. I scrabbled with my claws for purchase while my friends groaned and rustled around me. Anti-Richard jabbed his finger three times at my chest. "Hey, hey, hey, that came straight from the desk of my counterpart himself, mister. That's right, I say Mr. Richard Lewscru Thimble himself."

I looked at him. I looked at the scroll in my hands, with my adult name printed across the top after the words 'Dear young'. Then I looked up and squeezed it until the parchment bunched. "I say, this is a mistake. Not only am I underage, but no Anti-Fairy has been permitted on Spellementary School premises since the Barrier went up. Why should the Fairies alter their policy now?"

Again, low squeaks and mutters chorused from the drowsy Anti-Fairies around me. With a sheepish grimace, I released the branch I roosted from, and Anti-Richard did the same. I dropped from branch to branch, bouncing carefully around toes and sleeping figures, until I reached the coating of plastic on the floor. Anti-Richard pursued me from the room by wing. Upon landing outside the roosting room's door, he fixed me with an even wider grin.

"Well, you've heard a' the Finella reflex, ain't ya, kid?" Anti-Richard cupped his hands over his knees and squatted closer to my level. "Think of all the stats, bucko! That's right, yep, you heard me savvy. Fix your peepers on the olden days and turn your tail around! Fairies and Anti-Fairies make for natural opposites who attract each other, but since the war - oh, the war! - why, the very thought of befriending us has made the Fairies so squeamish that they claim any feelings of friendship and attraction are actually a- a-"

"A powerful instinct telling them to kill the counterparts upon encountering them. Cold shoulder syndrome. Yes, I remember hearing tale of it." I started rolling the scroll up again, and shook my head. "Anti-Richard, I'm just not sure I can in good conscience accept any proposal made out to grant me entrance to the school purely based upon the expectations of who these people - who have never met me before - think I'm going to turn out, you know what I mean?"

His smile, along with the electric hum of the energy field around him, dimmed by a hair. I rolled my eyes.

"Anti-Richard, according to this parchment you brought me, it would appear I've been invited to Spellementary School because my counterpart Cosmo Prime has been professionally determined to be a blithering moron, and because at some point or another, his mother officially declared her intents to homeschool him for life and shut out the poofarazzi." Upturning my hands, I protested, "How could I possibly justify disrrregarding every way the Fairies have hurt us in the past, and choose to snap up this bait they've chosen to dangle now? Is 'blithering moron' actually a scientifically valid claim in Fairy World? It's rubbish, isn't it? Who would say such a damaging thing to an emotionally undeveloped individual? Who are these people to sweep in like I've forgiven them for it all? And in return for what? Higher test score averages? Grant money by networking with the High Count and Countess through me? Nay, I say!"

Anti-Richard made a rainbow motion with his hands. "'Anti-Fairy counterpart to a moron,' they say. 'Most brilliant mind we've seen for eons', they say. Kid, you've got the right stuff. It's all moxie in your blood, and you've really gotta pounce on it now while the wand is hot."

I folded my arms and snarked, "I'm not a shallow-minded, sap-headed commodity who can be easily ensnared to act as crown candy for their discriminating classrooms with a few pretty offers and strings of pearls and flattery!"

Pregnant pause.

"Do they rrreally call me the most brilliant budding mind in centuries?"

"Millennia," Anti-Richard corrected, folding in his wings. I frowned.

"Oh, don't talk tosh. There are a thousand Anti-Fairies just like me, and a thousand who are smarter. That's the end result of living among such a cultured people."

"But the Fairy crew don't know that," he wheedled.

"What precisely are you implying now?" I asked, trying to keep my temper steady. I kneaded my toes into the carpet, claws catching in its fuzz. "That I should waltz up to our enemies and attempt to take credit for something I haven't truly earned? Can't you imagine what they might do to me if they were to find out I were living a lie? Anti-Richard, I'm only a pup, and I'm no special prodigy. I've hardly done anything noteworthy in my life."

Anti-Richard leaned his hand near the torch on the wall. "Hey hey hey, kid. By my recollection, just a whoppin' smack two years ago, you went and invented a love potion, solidified the gas into powder, and poured all of it - yes siree, I said all of it - inside every table salt shaker in the great hall."

"Beg pardon?" I placed both hands over my chest. "No. I invented a like potion. I know the rules, and the concept defined as 'love' is presently under full jurisdiction and copyright of the Eros family line. And that powder took months of research to perfect, and another week more just to work up the courage to use it, so don't credit me wrong." I grimaced at the memory. "It only works between two individual subjects anyway, just once, so the results can't be mass-produced for permanent world peace. I suppose no one can say I didn't try. But in all fairness, anyone who visited the library in Luna's Landing now and again could have figured out how to do the exact same thing. Potioncraft isn't near as hard as it's been made out to be in modern day."

Anti-Richard waited a beat without saying anything, and I looked up at the ceiling.

"Why, a six-year-old Anti-Fairy is hardly a prodigy by our standards, and you and I both know it." Hearing those words leave my own mouth, I pressed my hand to my cheek. "Although, I suppose I could have finished that little side project of mine by the age of four had I gotten the idea sooner. And I suppose… that's really something your average Fairy couldn't say, isn't it? Those uncreative nectar junkies are hardly the brainiacs they constantly attempt to make themselves out to be. After all, they are the ones who decided their young require outside schooling."

And yet…

"For some reason, I can't help but find this offer you've brought here rather…" The knuckles on my cheek moved down to my lips. "Irresistible, from the proper angle. You say my counterpart is a blithering moron? Intriguing… I imagine that I could perhaps work this in my favour. You know, play it up for show." I chuckled. "I always knew I was no ordinary anti-fairy. Right, then. Well? Where's Augustus? He'll flip when he hears this."

"You're going places, kid?" Anti-Richard asked with a squeal in his voice. I pointed my fingers back at him and we said it together.

"You betcha bottom lagelyn, sonny!"

Anti-Richard grabbed my waist and spun me around over his head. "You's gonna be big, I tells ya- bigger than Tarrow, bigger than all a' his seven sons. Why, you might just end up t'be bigger than Rhoswen himself! We could sign you to a double - No, a triple! - deal with the interpretive dance subcommunity! And there it goes, your name in torchlight all across the Sunset Skies: Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly! Oh, can you see it now? We can do business, li'l mister comeback kid!"

"I highly doubt that," I said through my laugh, while again, my roostmates shifted and complained from the neighbouring room at the noise. Several of them sounded as though they were finally waking permanently for the day.

"Ahem."

Both Anti-Richard and I stopped (or rather, he gradually spun to a stop while still hoisting me in the air) at the sound of Anti-Buster clearing his throat. Anti-Richard plopped me down on the floor and shrank into the shadows. Anti-Buster folded his arms, his fists gripping his tunic fabric. I made a noble attempt to smooth down my hair.

"Ah, so sorry, Anti-Buster, old chap. H-how has your morning been so far?"

"It's been flawless, sir."

The scathing scrape of his voice made my ears droop. When he spun around, hands still thrust under his armpits and red cloak flashing behind him, I bid good-bye to Anti-Richard and chased after him on foot. "Oh Anti-Buster, what's gotten a twist in your threads now?"

He continued to glare forward as he stomped along the corridor. "No offense intended, sir, but small children are a constant nuisance. They're always messing up my structure."

Well, I never!

It was all he would say. We descended the Castle's rear staircase to the floor of the grand hall. Anti-Buster dumped me off at the door to Anti-Bryndin's office before storming away. "Oh," I realized as he turned past the gargoyle at the corner. Suddenly, the offer to attend Spellementary School left a bitter sting in my mouth. My gaze fell to the scroll clenched in my hand. How was it that a simple anti-fairy of average talents like myself had stumbled across an opportunity to represent our race on a global level? The first Anti-Fairy in three hundred thousand years to be granted access to the Spellementary School grounds? Inconceivable fortune, really.

As I recalled, my friend Caden was Anti-Buster's son. I certainly understood where his disgruntled attitude was coming from, then. The camarilla must have been up for most of the night discussing the mail before Anti-Richard had arrived to deliver it. How much had it hurt parents to pass over their own children to grant me this sort of opportunity? And what about me? How many of my friends might I hurt or otherwise alienate were I to accept the school's proposal? Could I really consider leaving them behind while I moved on to the world of academia? Mona? Ashley? Electro…

… And whyever not? After all… when it came to spreading bad luck on the field, they'd moved on without me! Not one word of apology from any of them. Nay, nothing but praise from Mona and jealous accusations from Electro when I confessed the true purpose of my retesting my first bad luck assessment all those years ago, and Anti-Elina's encouragement for me to train as an architect. Hmph. Although I hadn't yet been shipped off against my will to train for years with the other budding architects at one of the zodiac Temples, Anti-Elina always did heap the pressure on me. Following Ambrosine's visit, my Friday the 13th duties were relegated to special artistic and architecture-related studies taught by Mona's mum, Anti-Penny. I couldn't say I truly loved the work, but what was I meant to do? Up and completely rebel against the authority figures? Oh, wouldn't that be the day.

Once Anti-Buster had gone, and I had worked up my courage, I pulled down the handle to Anti-Bryndin's office and eased open the door. I had been in there just once, some years ago… and not all that much had changed. The carpet was brown, still fluffy from decades of people mostly flying over it instead of trampling across it. On either side of me, cubbyholes like honeycomb lined the walls. Nearly half of them bulged with scrolls, while the rest contained smaller items or were empty altogether. A space of bare wall on the left was actually a hidden sliding door which, if opened, would lead me directly into the High Countess office where Anti-Elina did her work. I'd been in and out of there more frequently.

Across the small room, Anti-Bryndin leaned against his big black desk, his hand braced behind him and a purr across his face. The yellow curtains behind him were parted, showing off the morning stars outside. With the other hand, he played with one end of his scarf. He said, "Next time you come here, Julius, I ask you knock before you open my door. Is this okay?"

"Oh, um… S-sorry, High Count." I pressed my ears down, but didn't duck my head in shame. Something about the High Count's posture made it difficult to take my eyes off him. I tapped my chin. "Hmm. Why, Anti-Bryndin- you're positively glowing."

Humming, he pulled himself onto his desk and crossed one leg over the other. "Oh, that. I have now become aware of interesting news. News which will be important to broadcast across all the cloudlands in total at the time we choose for its reveal."

I paused for a moment to take in his words, then threw my hands into the air. The scroll from Anti-Richard flew somewhere behind me. "You're expecting? And this young? I say, you don't sound a day over 290,000."

Anti-Bryndin placed his fingertips modestly on his chest. "I have become readable even to puppies now?"

"It isn't an accident I'm being sent to Spellementary School for my brains, I suppose." I crossed the room and settled beside him, though on the floor rather than the desk. "Good smoke, and to think that years ago, I used to fit inside a pouch like yours. Anti-Bryndin, that's smashing news. Are you and Anti-Elina having a prince or a princess?"

My question made him hesitate. Anti-Bryndin looked down and traced his thumb over his pouch area. "Yes. My pup does not belong to Anti-Elina."

"Oh," I said. "So I imagine… your second wife, Anti-Zoe, is the mother, then." While I hadn't encountered Anti-Zoe myself, my mum ranted about her often. She herself was Anti-Bryndin's third wife, after all. Jealous rivalry was only to be expected.

"As is the way of things," Anti-Bryndin lamented, brushing what I suppose was an imaginary tear from his eye. "My counterpart selects Fairy-Zoe for his mate even if I have Anti-Elina for my High Countess. This is politics and culture for Anti-Fairies."

"Will we here at the Castle ever get to meet Anti-Zoe? No? Well, it's still exciting. A young prince or princess in the Castle! Oh, there will have to be parties, and people, and games, and of course, I'll get to grow up alongside the pup, and perhaps we can become good friends."

"Ambitious child," Anti-Bryndin mused. I nodded.

"And of course, I'd be honoured to teach him all I know of potioncraft, and anything Anti-Penny permits me to tell of architecture. Only…" My smile tugged downwards at the end. "Oh. I just remembered that as a member of the fairy subspecies, Cosmo will have had his fallopian tubes stopped up, so I'm in turn equally forbidden from bearing offspring of my own. Fathering my own child isn't something I'll ever be able to experience."

The pause between us was awkward, and didn't lighten up when I squeezed my eyes shut and balled my fists. To have the experience of someday brooding a pup in my pouch for two weeks before passing it along to its mother… all of that ripped away from me by stupid Fairy rules back when I was merely two years old…

I shook the thought away and turned my eyes on the ceiling, which had been painted a soft red. The beauty of fate was, there was no telling yet what the future might bring. Quite possibly, Mona might end up carrying a child someday, fathered by a drake from an Anti-Fairy subspecies still permitted to reproduce. Such was the way of our kind, to reflect our counterparts. And since I was to be married to her, those pups would be rightfully mine as much as hers. They would become my children. She was counting on my support, and really, that's what marriage is all about.

"Julius," Anti-Bryndin said, forcing my attention back to the present. He leaned further back on his desk, resting one hand on his pouch. "If you have come to my office, I wonder if you are thinking you will indeed go to Spellementary School soon. Is this okay?"

"I worked out my thoughts with Anti-Richard, High Count," I said, sitting down on the carpet. "I'll admit that while I was conflicted at first, I decided that if I were given this opportunity, there must be a reason for it, and I don't intend to let it pass me by."

Anti-Bryndin nodded in a slow and thoughtful sort of way. "There were concerns? From you?"

"Well… As a matter of fact, yes." I adjusted the hem of my tunic over my knees. "Anti-Richard brought me a scroll that had supposedly come from his counterpart, who teaches assorted classes at Spellementary. However, the timing of this message strikes me as odd. It appears so random. Anti-Bryndin!" I threw my hands into the air. "I'm only eight years old! Children aren't intended to go to Spellementary School until around the age of fifty with the rest of their cohort! What? What?"

"Fairy students wait," he pointed out. "Anti-Fairies are famed for big brains. Yours is big, so you can go."

"But- but-" I gestured again at empty space. "How did this Fairy-Richard fellow even find out about me to begin with? I've done nothing really noteworthy that should thrust me into the spotlight. My magic is known to sputter out at the worst of times for reasons that have yet to be explained. So far, I've turned down official training as an architect. I'm no heir to a High seat like your pup will be."

Anti-Bryndin leaned forward with his eyes shut and teeth set in a smile. "I went to recommend your going with Fairy-Richard. Is this okay?"

I blinked. "You? Whatever for?"

Anti-Bryndin considered me, still pressing his hand over his pouch. "Julius, Anti-Elina and I have talked. We think it will be noble and good of you to test the education system and the people to see if young Anti-Fairies can be welcome there yet. Then, other Anti-Fairies can go after you."

"I suppose…" My eyes slid away, over to the closet door beside his desk. "But, what if the Fairy children tease me? I anticipate receiving some silent treatment from being there, or if not silent treatment, then targeted forms of abuse."

"Ah, this is why we choose to send you," Anti-Bryndin answered easily. "You are a strong pup who will manage despite pains. Your counterpart is said to be dumb. He created fear in Fairies with his strong powers, and so we must strike now. We will show Fairies we Anti-Fairies are less scary than their own kind. We will prove that we deserve Spellementary School and, someday, the Barrier may be lowered. This can allow travel across long borders to Fairy World. I trust in your hard work. Is this okay?"

I supposed it was. Anti-Bryndin nodded and slid behind his desk. He had the paperwork already filled out, and bound the scroll (after showing me what it said, of course) with a yellow ribbon. This, he said, he would deliver to the Anti-Fairy Council personally.

"Are you well, Julius?"

I stared at my toes. "I… I'm just not sure I'm the right Anti-Fairy to send. I'm hardly the smartest pup we have around, and there are others much closer than I am to the age of school attendance encouraged by the social clock. I just worry that in testing the waters of the school, I'll be tearing a rift between myself and my peers here at the Castle. Why send me, out of everyone?"

Anti-Bryndin shrugged his wings and finished tying the ribbon into a bow. "Every month past the time your father became smoke, an anonymous donor made many sums of contribution towards having you attend school. That helps to choose you."

I jerked up my head. "After my father went to what?"

Anti-Bryndin set the bound scroll to one side of his desk, and tucked the remaining spiral of ribbon into a drawer. "Oh? Were you not told? Your dad is dead. It's very sorry."

"I- Oh. Rhoswen's chisel, I- Oh. Did… did you ever know my father, High Count?"

My nameless, faceless sire had never been a presence in my life, and so I had invented excuses and occupations for him over the years. I always figured he must be a guard at the Barrier to keep nasty Fairies from sneaking over to pick on us. Or a hunter who made his living by catching and selling small animals and insects at fair prices to nobles too pompous to catch their own. Or, and I had entertained this one especially in recent years, perhaps he was an architect who studied at a Zodiac Temple far away and couldn't properly make time for visits. Or perhaps he held a position on the Anti-Fairy Council, and my birth had been a secret he loyally kept for political reasons. Or, he lived on a nearby moon.

Wherever he was, I imagined he wrote my mother loving letters even from afar, requesting details about his two sons here at the Castle, and enclosing pretty jewels bought from Fairy World or shells stolen from the Earth seashores themselves.

Anti-Bryndin nodded. "Ah, Anti-Robin. He worked in kitchens and food things. Head of the servants who cooked. He is dead I think six years now." The High Count tapped one claw against his cheek while I reeled back my head and struggled to absorb this unsettling information. "We do have some of the Anti-Robin things still here, and I did think to clean them out. We have kept them many years, but I wish to convert the storage location as I keep more room in the Castle for my heir. I am looking for people who will go through his many things and decide what to do. Your brother will look. I will start him today. Maybe you want to look too? Is this okay?"

All I could do was stare at him. On some level I heard and processed his words, but only one thought pulsed at the forefront of my mind: Father. Father. Father. And then, Dead. Dead. Dead.

Anti-Robin was my father. Hearing it sickened me to my core. I rested my hand against my forehead. "My father was Anti-Robin, head servant of the Blue Castle, and for two years he and I actually lived together underneath the same roof. If I'd only known…"

Why hadn't I ever pressed Mum for details on my father? So many of the others in my cohort didn't know their fathers that it was sort of a taboo subject to dwell on, and thus it had never really come up. But I could have asked. She might have told. Mum might snap at and threaten to hit me sometimes, or drag me around the Castle by my foot while I lay on my back, but she still knew a great deal and never withheld information when I asked for it, and I respected her immensely for that.

Why hadn't I asked? My throat constricted, eyes burning behind my clenched lids. Why hadn't I even asked? It would have been so easy to, and then I could have grown up familiar with him. And to think of all those weeks just after I was born when I had slunk about the kitchens searching for a magic-touched knife I could use to slit the bindings on my young wings. To think I had wasted so much time believing that if he were to hunt me down, he'd turn me into a fly on the spot. To think, all those days, weeks, and months Augustus had spent in the kitchens, helping our father cook for-

…

I clenched my hands into fists. Even an hour later when I flung open the door to the storage room that contained what was left of Anti-Robin's things and found my brother kneeling among the battered crates and scrolls, I didn't loosen my fingers.

"Augustus!"

When he looked up, all the sound drained from the energy field around him. Instantly he flashed to his feet, canetis rings clinking at his ears. His green eyes darted left, then right. "Julius? W-what are you d-d-doing in this r-room? Th-these things b-b-belong to an o-old s-servant, and there's n-n-nothing in here th-that would int-t-terest-"

"You knew!" I finally did unclench my fingers so I could jab one claw into his midsection- the highest point on his body I could reach. "Bloody smoke, so that's why you spent so much time with him! And my idiotic two-year-old brain didn't connect the dots. You knew Anti-Robin was our father, and yet you never told me! What is that?" My arms went out to either side. "I'm your baby brrrother! We tell each other everything! I've spent countless nights bundling with you, whispering secrets in your ears that I wouldn't even tell Mona. I've kept my lip buttoned when I've seen you sneak out to perform charity work for orphans or the elderly and I've done everything you've ever asked of me, but yet you couldn't be bothered to tell me Anti-Robin was my secret father?"

"I- I- I- I-" Augustus fidgeted with the crate behind him, looking in every corner where his gaze didn't cross paths with mine. I rubbed my eyes with the hand that was still in a fist.

"Why didn't you ever introduce me, Augustus?"

Augustus squeezed his eyes shut. His teeth pinched his tongue. The rings in his drooping ears twinkled with every twitch he made, which was a sufficient amount of them. I put my foot down and tried again.

"Why didn't you tell me our father lived here in the Castle, and that I could have met him while he was alive?"

"I d-d-didn't know."

"Oh, don't bloody give me that." I folded my arms. "You knew full well. Good smoke, your adult name is Anti-Robin. I even knew that. You're actually named after him. I should have put two and two together. I blame the fact that I am one of three Anti-Cosmo's in the Castle. It is a pretty common name."

"I d-didn't know h-he w-would l-l-leave us," Augustus whimpered, shrinking back in a crouch.

"But why did you hide him from me? He never approached me either. Did you hide me from him, too? Augustus Anti-Robin Anti-Lunifly, I daresay you are a mighty-"

"My s-s-surname isn't Anti-L-Lunifly," Augustus said, with the coldest tone of voice I'd ever heard leave his lips. I looked up, my bravado rapidly splintering. He stood. Then he brushed past me and lifted the lid off a crate on my right as though he hadn't said anything. I bristled with indignation at having been blown off like a fruit fly, but I forced myself to speak, even if it was through clenched teeth.

"Augustus? What was Father's family name?"

"A-Anti-Cosma."

"Anti-Cosma." I tasted the name a few times in my mouth: "Julius Anti-Cosmo Anti-Cosma." It sounded a little funny, didn't it? "And what's the honoured animal of the Anti-Cosma family?"

"The r-rat."

The Anti-Lunifly line honoured the fox. In accordance with Anti-Fairy tradition, it was expected that once I began practicing shapeshifting, I would take only ever the form of the animal that had been associated with my family for generations. Now that I had discovered my father's family, it would be socially acceptable for me to switch over if I chose to, so long as I left my previous form behind. In my mind's eye, I pulled up the image of a dirty grey rat and placed it beside a beautiful russet fox. The fox won out.

Augustus rummaged around inside the crate, and his wings drooped. "W-what Papa and I h-had was s-s-special, J-Julius… a-and in my p-pride, I d-didn't w-want you to t-take that away f-from me. H-he's the only one w-who was ever n-nice to me." He sighed. "Papa knew he h-had another p-pup, but he d-didn't know if it was a d-d-drake or a d-damsel."

"Observant, was he?" I drawled, imagining my mother dragging me down the hall and shouting at me. Augustus shot me an injured look.

"H-he was busy. N-not only did he w-w-work in the k-kitchens, but h-he wanted t-to invent th-things t-to help others. He was o-out around the t-towns a lot. I th-think he always s-suspected his p-pup was y-you, but he d-didn't know you were h-his. I thought m-maybe when you were o-older, I c-could introd-duce you p-p-properly-"

I laughed, bitterly and harsh. "Well, and that plan worked out splendidly, didn't it? He's dead now. Gone to smoke. Reincarnated. You're the reason I'll never know what he was like. That was terribly unsporting of you, Augustus. You were very bad."

He lowered his head, not into the crate again, but into his hands. "I know. You d-deserved Papa's a-attention j-just as much as I d-did, but I k-kept it for m-myself. I d-didn't want you to f-find out this way. I t-told myself it was okay… i-if I was s-selfish j-just once about one th-thing… b-because I was s-still doing so many g-good th-things for p-people. But now…"

Augustus never let me see him cry, even though I always knew when he did. Abruptly he straightened up. Despite my protests, he swept from the storage room without another stuttering word. I remained alone.

Well. I supposed I may as well get started sorting through my late father's old things. The storage room wasn't particularly expansive. I wandered between the crates, picking up scrolls by the bundle. Few of them were tied, and several were falling apart. I unrolled one of the thicker scrolls and smoothed it out on the floor. But the words I read, and the flaking pictures beside them painted on in colourful ink, made me crease my forehead.

"What in smoke? I didn't know Anti-Robin wrote fiction. What's all this nonsense about a green anti-fairy?"

Along with most Anti-Fairies, I'd discovered that moving my claw beneath a word on a page helped my poor eyes keep track of it. From the sound of things, this fantasy concept of drastically tinted fur colour was actually real. Evidently, Anti-Robin had written about a single anti-fairy drake born with green fur instead of blue, and with bright yellow hair on his head. A black stripe underlined each of his eyes, and another patch of black grew in a scruffy way along his square chin. According to Anti-Robin's calculations, the green anti-fairy was enormous. He towered over most Anti-Fairies, and his wingspan stretched wider than anyone had ever seen. The wings came, Father insisted, from the great fruit bat with whom he shared his brown wings and a third of his genetics. But that couldn't be right. The patron bat species for the common anti-fairy was the Elrulian free-tailed bat. An insect-chaser. How should a fruit bat have gotten mixed up in there?

My father's notes were intricate. I found them crossing over between scrolls, showered in curious excitement and hopeful forays into the realm of science and wonder. It appeared that Anti-Robin first took his research to the Grand Archive Building, a place that I myself had become familiar with when I'd invented my "like potion" two years prior (and tried, unsuccessfully, to discover how to create a magic-touched blade). It was easily the tallest building in our pleasant capital city of Luna's Landing, and possibly in all of Anti-Fairy World except perhaps a Zodiac Temple or two. The lower two floors of the building were open to the public as a grand library. The third and fourth floors contained census records and other valued documents and archives. The three Robes who sat on the Anti-Fairy Council - the Navy of the High South Region, the Teal of the Lower East Region, and the Maroon Robe of Far West Region - met on the fifth floor, at the top.

This was where my father's work became interesting. According to his notes, he observed that historically, the three Robes who sat upon our Council always underwent a fur colour change upon taking their position. The Navy Robe had darker fur, the Teal Robe lighter, and most curious of all, the Maroon Robe had, well, maroon fur. But only for as long as they held their Council positions. Upon stepping down, their colours returned to whatever they had been prior to their ascension.

The answer lay at the feet of the Fairy Elder. She was a lady shrouded in mystery, allegedly impartial on matters of Fairy, Anti-Fairy, and Fairy Refract concern, though admittedly I held some doubts. Considered empress of all the cloudlands, she dressed in exquisite yellow robes at all times, and her residence was called the Pink Castle in Fairy World. Anti-Robin referred to her as something of a deity, with the power to bestow her powers on members of both the Fairy and Anti-Fairy Councils for as long as they held their position. This in turn brought about curious side effects. In our case, a fur colour change.

But Anti-Fairies did not have political claim to the Lower West Region, represented by the Green Robe. Arbitrary borders placed that region in Fairy World. The Navy, Teal, and Maroon Robes lost their colours upon resigning from their positions should they not come up victorious following the Council Robe elections. So why the green fur for a drake with no present ties to political office? And why did he have yellow hair? Out of respect for our esteemed and impartial Fairy Elder, there was no such thing as a Yellow Robe, and none of the seven recognised Regions in the cloudlands were known by that colour, either. Why?

And too, I had picked up myself that Anti-Fairy fur changed colours when exposed to the same hormones and magic that triggered our honey-lock instinct, prompting us to abandon whatever task we were involved in at the time and seek out the counterpart of whomever our own hosting counterpart had chosen for a mate. But not even that explained such a permanent fur change as this one. Nor did it explain that curious yellow hair.

I immersed myself in Anti-Robin's work. The more scrolls I unrolled, the more artistic representations I discovered concerning this strange green drake, varying between quick scribbles of his face to full-body portraits in expensive inks. Finally, following decades of research, Anti-Robin proposed a bold claim. The curious anti-fairy's colour, he proclaimed, had resulted from a presently-unknown mutation in his genetics. I accepted this explanation, although the sheer amount of paintings I stumbled across suggested "mutation" was never the first word which popped into Anti-Robin's head when he had the chance to study his muse. Now, fascinating, incredible, or gorgeous, maybe.

"If so, that would certainly explain why he wasn't close to my mother," I muttered into my hand, reaching for another scroll. "Why, look at him. He was absolutely obsessed with another man, drawing and studying him constantly this way. Mostly unclothed, it seems. Here he describes that he first learned to create food to help feed his new friend. And here he mentions illegally crossing the border to Fairy World to obtain building supplies so he could assist this outcast anti-fairy in constructing a home on the outskirts of the acid pools on Plane 4. No one can be that tenderhearted without expecting to call the shots as to what they want in return. Oh, Father, so you were a bad boy after all. I knew even a known goody-goody such as yourself must have had it in you somewhere."

In fact…

"Wait a moment…"

I crossed my left hand over to my right and fingered my blue betrothal ring. Anti-Robin had certainly spent a lot of time with this green anti-fairy. A lot of time. Their connection certainly appeared to be one of strength and closeness. Might he and this green anti-fairy have become more than mere friends? Imagine, if you would: Anti-Robin pouring out his energy for a fellow he held no attraction to whatsoever? Why, the very thought lay at odds with everything I knew of friendship and caring!

After all, outside of family ties, romance was the ideal pinnacle of any close relationship; everyone knew that. As I saw it, there was no point in giving services such as time and energy without receiving a little reward, and the green drake must have fulfilled particular emotional needs in Anti-Robin that he hadn't been able to pry out of Anti-Florensa. Ohhh, could you imagine it? Anti-Robin slipping out from the Blue Castle on a daring mission. He'd descend four planes of existence from the city of Luna's Landing to the acid-ridden mountains of the Barrenglades far below. Travelling (Dare I mention it?) alone rather than in the protective company of a colony. All this, just to find his patient lover, who ever welcomed him with open arms and soft kisses on the cheek.

My dear, poor father, involved in a happy relationship with someone not so cruel and nasty as my mother? I couldn't resist kicking my legs in a sort of flutter at the thought. Even if they hadn't been betrothed in a Tarrow celebration at the turn of the zodiac cycle, anyone could see Anti-Robin and his beloved muse were the soulmates meant for each other. Yes, that must be it! Secret lovers, so captivated with one another that not even distance could tear them apart. It was the most beautiful love story in my family line, and I had an aunt who'd taken a manticore mauling for my uncle back when they were juveniles.

Anti-Robin and the green anti-fairy must have held numerous discussions over the decades they knew one another, so the subject of Anti-Robin's children simply must have come up at some point. Augustus claimed that Anti-Robin didn't recognise me as his own. But surely he knew there was another child, and surely he'd always intended to rescue me from my mum's violent clutches. Would he have swept me away, then, to live with him and this green anti-fairy? Of course! The answer stared me in the face as clear as lantern light. Ohh, what a beautiful, peaceful life that should be, living in a rural home with two fathers who adored me and spoiled me rotten to my core.

And speaking of children, why-! Might I also have cousins adopted by the green anti-fairy? Distant family members who knew Anti-Robin intimately and could share with me all the stories regarding what he had been like in life? Family who might accept me into their own flock? My wings strained against the rope that bound them, begging to soar down to Plane 4 at once.

One of these days. Not today, but one of these days. The day following my canetis. That's when I would do it. Suddenly, the age of forty-eight seemed so very far away. In fact, I'd have to live my current lifespan another five times. Cruel fate, I say.

I read multiple mentions of Augustus joining Anti-Robin on these visits to the green anti-fairy in later years. Goody-goody Augustus, showing up dirty but happy with clothing and food for the needy, right alongside our father. Or as he apparently saw it, his father. My claws pierced the old parchment when I tightened my fingers. But I swallowed my woeful pride and managed to move past that. And after a dozen scrolls, I finally reached the point where Anti-Robin mentioned the object of his apparent obsession by name. I switched my ears forward.

"'Anti-Fergusius Alexander Anti-Whimsifinado'."

That was his name. The green anti-fairy. That was his name. I wondered if Anti-Robin had had any cute nicknames for him. Had they first met back before Anti-Fergusius turned 150,000, and he had answered to the name Alexander?

"'Firstborn son of Anti-Ambrosine Alexander Anti-Whimsifinado and Anti-Solara Lavender Anti-Posy. Hmm." I drummed my claws against the floor, listening to the way they clicked against stone. "Anti-Posy. Anti-Posy. Where do I know that name from? Oh, it's right there on the tip of my tongue…"

How curious. As I understood it, the Whimsifinado family were praised among the most noble of Fairy families. And here, the Anti-Whimsifinados appeared to have faded nearly into obscurity. That much was clear in the way Anti-Solara hadn't taken on her mate's name herself, although apparently she had chosen to pass it along to her son. Anti-Fergusius alone stood out to me as interesting, and even then, he was considered an outcast in our society. However, hundreds of thousands of years prior my sentience, there had been a year on our calendar named the Year of the Green Bat. Might that perhaps be connected to his birth?

"Anti-Robin says here that the man lives down in the Barrenglades on Plane 4, a place most Anti-Fairies have no interest in visiting. If this information remains accurate, he currently resides at the base of Dragondrool Mountain. I swear I've heard Augustus mention that name on multiple occasions before slipping out of the Castle. Hmm…"

The sound of footsteps and canetis rings brought me pause. Still lying on my stomach, I twisted back towards the open storeroom door to observe my brother stroll in, hauling a red-brown case by its handle. "Good smoke," I said, "what is that? Augustus, we're supposed to be ridding this room of old junk, not carting more of it in here."

"I kn-know. But, th-this was Papa's p-prayer box. H-he gave it to me b-before he d-died, but I d-don't think I d-deserve it anymore." Augustus kept his eyes on the floor. "I want you t-to have it."

I stared at the tarnished hinges on the box. Slowly, I pushed myself up to a sitting position. "This doesn't fix things, you know. You knowingly denied me access to my true father. You took a part of my family away from me. I shan't forgive you easily for that."

"Y-yes, I know that t-too. I'm s-sorry. I was s-s-selfish and wr-wrong, and- and I want to sh-show you this." Augustus sat on the floor beside me and placed the box on my lap. It was half as big as I was, with sharp edges that dug into my skin even through my tunic and fur. I sighed, but unclicked the old latches and lifted the lid. The inside was lined with rosy felt. Seven simple animals either carved of coloured stones or formed from magic, each one small enough to rest in my palm, stared up at me: An amethyst hummingbird, a ruby lizard, a turquoise turtle, a sapphire albatross, a citrine donkey, a beryl leopard, and a jade rooster.

"Th-they're blessing t-tokens," Augustus explained. He picked up the turtle - Sunnie's sacred animal - and flipped it over so it rested on its back in his hand. "Each of the z-zodiac s-spirits has a d-different mastery, and you c-c-call on different s-spirits to receive d-different b-blessings. D-Dayfry is the patient l-leader, Saturn is the p-passionate warrior, S-Sunnie is the quiet scholar, Munn i-is the playful t-traveller, Twis is the f-farmer and the m-merchant, Winni is the t-teacher and healer, and Thurmondo is the sh-shy inventor. The best w-way to pray is to visit their temples and make o-o-offerings to them. But s-sometimes, when you're at home, i-it's nice to t-talk to the t-tokens and hope the s-s-spirits can h-hear you. Y-you flip the animals on their b-backs when you're c-calling on the s-spirit. Th-things like that."

He smiled, in a sad way. "They l-like to be out of the b-box and st-standing in a row. S-sometimes, in the k-kitchen, I would t-take them out. I do it where m-most other Anti-Fairies my age don't s-see, because I thought they m-might tease me, or maybe b-break them. I hope you're very c-careful with these, Julius. P-Papa made them."

"Of course," I said, though I had no idea how I would even get the solid box off my lap, let alone haul it around to some private place every time I wanted to peek underneath the lid.

"They l-like to s-stand up, but they're all m-made so they can b-balance on their b-b-backs with their b-bellies up. Th-that's how you c-call on them when you p-pray. It's like a f-funnel." Augustus tilted his head. "But, Papa always s-said it was very i-important that you only c-call upon one spirit at a t-time. They get awfully j-jealous if they send blessings y-your way and meet another of the s-spirits in the p-process. You have to keep them s-standing straight up unless it's r-really, really important th-that you need their h-help. You don't want them t-to think you're s-selfish."

I frowned at the tiny water-blue turtle in his hand. Its shell was sculpted into a spiral. Little carved eyes gazed blankly back at me. "Why are you giving me this?"

Augustus replaced Sunnie's turtle in the snug, moulded place in the felt. "I went to p-pray. I don't think the s-spirits are happy about what I d-did. If you have the ch-chance to call down their b-blessings, I don't want to d-deprive you of that too."

I fingered the lower corners of the box, my hands still mostly pinned down by its weight in my lap. I shifted my legs. "Augustus? Do you think I'll pass my canetis when it's my cohort's fiftieth year?"

"Of course," he said in alarm. "Why w-w-wouldn't you?"

"You didn't," I said, glancing up. "That's why Papa made these for you, isn't it? Because you can't fly to the Temples, and you're not allowed to carry a wand."

Augustus still wouldn't meet my gaze. Not that that was anything new. He stood again. "I want you to h-have them, Julius. I did s-something wrong in k-keeping you from meeting P-Papa while he l-lived, and I d-don't deserve b-blessings until I can f-forgive myself. And I don't p-plan to ever forgive myself."

Again, I called after him, but he left anyway. I shook my head and returned my attention to the tokens in the box. Oh, Augustus. Quite the pitiful noble. I could see why no one much liked him. It was all too easy to become frustrated with a self-deprecating goody-goody like him.

It took almost an entire minute to slide the heavy box off my lap and onto the ground beside me, and I groaned when I was done. It was a very pretty old box, but so difficult for an undersized eight-year-old like me to heft around. Not to mention that Mum was sure to find it were I to keep it with me. Augustus usually did a good job of staying out of her way. I tended to be less fortunate. The camarilla couldn't catch her scathing words and smacking staff every time.

I studied the little carvings sitting in the felt. They weren't very big. No, not at all. Carefully, one by one, I pried each of them out of their places in the box. After checking to be sure that no one was watching, just to be sure of it, I unbuckled the belt on my tunic, lifted it up, and slid the carvings through the vertical slit on my stomach and into my inner pouch. They were cold. Mostly smooth, though ridged here and there. The donkey's ears sunk into my side. It was the only way I could think to carry them, and maybe that would be okay, for now. It wasn't as though I'd be getting a lot of use out of that pouch for its intended purpose.

I spent the rest of the morning clearing things up in the storage room, sorting everything into "keep" and "toss" heaps- one of which was considerably larger than the other. Mona found me eventually and offered her help, but I didn't let her see Anti-Robin's scrolls. No one was allowed to see those scrolls. I had my own personal laundry drawer in the Water crevice of the creche roosting room, and I kept as much of his life's work as would fit hidden away in there.

The drawer was stuffed, as were the lonesome punctures in my soul. I dreamt of springtime.

A/N - *Weeps with the hope of never having to say this again* - Anti-pixies appeared in the FOP video game, "Clash With the Anti-World". They have green bodies and yellow hair, and wear yellow jackets with red spots on them. They will fight you with party blowers. While the events of the game aren't canon in my works, I did choose to incorporate the green anti-pixies into my fanfics instead of just making them boring ol' blue.

About the title of this chapter, "Indigo Feathers". According to Wikipedia, Chinese Catholic bishops would wear violet hats instead of wearing green hats. This stems from green being associated with infidelity in Chinese culture. Wearing indigo feathers in these violet hats was a way to further indicate disdain for the color green. It was neat.