Two Years Prior

  I landed on the soft grass in the meadow, immediately folding my wings as I spotted Lillie laying on the blanket. I approached her quietly, realizing that she was asleep. Her chestnut brown hair was twirled around her face, and her eyelids slightly twitched as she breathed deeply. Beads of sweat formed on her gray skin, and I crouched near her head, blocking the sun from causing too much discomfort while Lillie slept. She appeared peaceful, and I observed her rise and fall with each breath, enjoying the moment while it lasted. Her shoes were still on, which was odd, and I had never seen her sleep before.

  I hope she is feeling well.

  After her eyes flickered opened and she realized I was beside her, she rolled to her side, rubbing her eyes and stretching her legs.

  “I guess I am extra tired today,” she said while picking at the fibers of the blanket. “I had a rough couple of weeks.”

  “How so?” I asked while observing her hands move along the blanket. Then, I looked at her face, and realized that tears were forming.

  “Oh,” she replied and I watched as a tear streaked down his cheek and settled upon her chin. “My—my father found my books.” She pushed herself into a sitting position and rubbed her chin with the back of her arm.

  “He took my books away,” she said with a trembling voice. “He told me that I can’t visit Historia in the library anymore.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Why would your father take something away that you love?”

  “He says he must toughen me up for the realities of life. I don’t know. I think he means well, but I wonder why life has to be so tough? And, why can’t I try to make it easier, you know? Why can’t I still enjoy the things that make me happy?”

  “I understand training your child to endure through the hardships that life holds, like the cold winters and natural ways of life and death. But I don’t understand why your father would purposefully deplete the joys in your life.” Lillie’s sorrowful eyes cast upon me, causing a wave of grief to pierce my heart. Her rosy cheeks glowed, and the cool summer breeze twirled her hair around her face.

  “I don’t understand either. He doesn’t explain himself well, but sometimes I see the hurt in his eyes. Maybe he is just trying to protect me by making me tough. Maybe he doesn’t know any other way.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Maybe it is his only knowledge of love. Maybe, because of the pain of his own life, he is just trying to protect me, you know?”

  “But, does protection and love have to hurt like this?”

  “I don’t know. But it seems the only way he and my mother know.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t have to hurt. Perhaps it hurts because it’s not love nor protection.”

  “Then what could it be?”

  ***

  As an old memory of Lillie’s narrative of her parents flooded my mind, I felt paralyzed while standing outside of her house. During that interaction two summers ago, I experienced sympathy for my friend, but nothing as aggressively painful as the anger began to rise in my chest after officially meeting the caregivers of Lillie. I felt so disgusted with a man I had just met, yet knew from a distant narrative.

  Launching myself from the wooden railing on the balcony, I jumped down. I landed with a firm thud, feeling numb and shocked by the irritating encounter, and I tightened my hands into fists at my side while anger suddenly shifted to fear.

  How am I ever going to find Lillie if her own parents won’t help me?

  My mind processed my interactions with Marie and Bene. I heard many stories about them through Lillie, but they seemed so distant, like ambiguous characters in a legend unrelated to my world. After facing them, they were real people in the present moment—in my present moment. The many complicated and unfortunate events they put Lillie through all began to make sense. Marie was warm and welcoming at first, but changed immediately when things did not appease her. She seemed interested in me after I had won her approval, but her demeanor drastically changed upon Bene’s arrival. Regardless of my useful resources, she betrayed me once Bene decided I was a threat to Lillie.

  But why was she crying?

  Bene seemed like a hard worker; age and time could be read from the lines on his forehead, the roughness on his hands, and the sternness in his voice. But he lacked consideration for Lillie’s interest. At least, that is what I assumed from this interaction and previous narratives made by Lillie.

  Perhaps he truly sees me as a threat, a distraction for Lillie, similar to books and other joys Lillie had. Maybe that is why she did not come to the meadow. Maybe her father told her not to visit me anymore. Perhaps it was his fault!

  My skin began to crawl, and my blood boiled. I felt angry—angry with the man I had just met. Regardless of her being his daughter, I couldn’t understand how he could be so dismissive of me—he had no right to treat me that way, no right to assume such things about me!

  Lillie was my best friend—my greatest of friends; I deserved to hear the truth from her, not an assumption from him. They assumed my only interest was in trading with Lillie, but was I so far into that lie that I could not recover any information? What if I returned and told them the truth? Would they even accept that their daughter is friends with me? Was it worth the risk? What if they don’t know about the meadow? What if Lillie kept that secret from them, like she hid her books? Bene took Lillie’s books away, and he told her she was not allowed to continue reading lessons from her friend.

  Wait, that friend—Historia. What if I look for her?

  No—Lillie was forbidden from seeing Historia. How would I even find her? I can’t even find Lillie!

  What if Lillie was also on the cusp of being forbidden from seeing me? But—why was Marie crying? Did Bene hurt her? Did something happen to Lillie?

  Why didn’t she come home like Marie said she would?

  Memories of Lillie’s stories flooded my mind. She talked a lot about her life, and I listened, but I rarely paid attention to the important details. That information could have easily given me clues to my particular situation, just like talking about fish since Lillie had given away her fish I had previously given her. I felt like a terrible friend to Lillie. She complained so many times, often annoying me. Yet, here I was, enduring the very same behavior she lived with on a daily basis, and I selfishly did not pay closer attention!

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  A group of children suddenly rushed past me, sneering as they kicked a round object back and forth, and I looked around.

  This was Lillie’s neighborhood. All these houses were homes and shops of the people who knew her best.

  Maybe I could ask them?

  I began knocking on each door on the first level. If a door opened, it was quickly slammed shut. The city dwellers shrieked, they sneered, and their tones were of utter distress or disgust upon seeing me. I ventured to the second layer of buildings in the neighborhood, but someone shouted for me to leave the area as the night was drawing to a close. Each shout caused my heart to ache. Each jeer evoked further fear.

  I noticed the fires of the blacksmith had gone out, and there were no more children running down the streets. People shouted from above, telling me to leave, and I called out for help. But, no one was willing. Young, old, little, and tall—no one gave me any positive responses. As the night drew on, there were fewer people in the public area. I was mentally exhausted from pushing my comfort limits. I felt distraught at how stubborn the people were when it came to disclosing any type of useful information.

  Does no one care to help me find Lillie?

  I trudged further through the buildings, looking for a place to rest as the city lanterns were beginning to fade and exhaustion was overcoming my body. I noticed a large opening with protruding broken glass from an overhead tower. I ascended above the ground, and carefully glided through the broken opening, and entered the obviously abandoned room. It was almost empty, except for a few crates and broken tools. There was a closed trap door on the wooden floor. The surface was dirty, cobwebs hung from the corners, and it smelled murky with a hint of rusted iron.

  Feeling hopeless, I began pacing around the small area. I placed my hands on my head and pushed hard against my temples. I could not believe such a place existed with so many unkind people. Lillie was so different from the people I had met. The way the other women in the busy square talked with judgment about Lillie—the look from Lillie’s father and the anger in his voice. Marie being so kind—giving me heaps of food, letting me rest—then coldly casting me out of her house. The glaring eyes, the pointing fingers, the pushing around in the busy square, and the doors slamming in my face.

  Calling me a savage—a demon.

  Oh, Lillie, I’m so sorry. I had no idea this was your world.

  Yet, I realized that Lillie did tell me about her world. She so often told me stories about her parents’ treatment, the struggle of making trades with others, and trying to learn without her parents meddling with her affairs. She did tell me all these things, but I was so apathetic and so naive. I was selfish, only concerning myself with my own life and what I wanted. I was a terrible friend! I didn’t even know anything about her job, where she worked, or how to find out.

  You fool!

  Tears rolled down my face. I cried harder than I ever thought I was capable of. I was alone—truly alone—in a foreign place that terrified me. I was alone with my overwhelming thoughts and memories of Lillie’s harsh life flooding my mind. The overshadowing trees and dense buildings, the glaring looks and spiteful treatment from the people—the unmistakable pit in my heart of true fear. I had never experienced this type of loneliness nor this type of fear. As memories of Lillie’s life filled my mind, my past experiences enmeshed in my head.

  I remembered the first time I learned to fly. I had to jump from my mountain home. I was terrified of falling, yet my mother and father were next to me, encouraging me to take that first jump. When I saw the bears for the first time with my father, fear struck my young heart as I watched their aggressive behavior. My father calmed me, teaching me how to stay safe in the trees. His presence and wisdom subsided my fears. I remembered my earliest tattoos. My mother let me sit close to her, holding my hand through the pain. I was only a youngling, yet with her presence, I knew that I was safe. Even the Sage performing the ritual was kind and soft-spoken. Then, despite the fear I felt upon entering the great cedar forest for the first time with Lillie, gathering firewood, Lillie was there, and she helped me overcome my worries.

  When I faced terror and fearful situations, I was not alone. No—someone was always there with me, easing the pain, and reminding me that there was nothing to fear and I had the power to overcome any apprehension I faced. I lived my life with this confidence. I never feared being out of control of what I wanted. Even when faced with uncertain, unforeseeable future outcomes, I never felt incapable of overcoming them and finding solutions. I always found my strength. I always found the courage to face adversity.

  Why? Because I was trained to be self-sufficient as a survivalist. My entire life of training was to give me the strength and the courage to face anything and know that I would be capable of overcoming any obstacle. Deep within my heart, I knew fear was temporary, only an instinctual alarm to help me recognize the danger ahead and adjust my plan of action accordingly. I knew, no matter what, that I was capable of overcoming any hindrance that stood in my way. When given the time, I could think of ways, search my surroundings, and create a plan of action to get what I wanted. In every situation, I always conquered my apprehension. But at that present moment?

  I looked around the dusty area. I could not think of anything. I looked outside through the dismantled opening; the sharp edges of broken glass glistened from the light of a city lantern. I did not feel courageous nor capable. I could not think of solutions, and I could not resolve to find answers. Everything I tried failed. Everyone was turning against me. Every time I tried thinking of new ways, a door would shut in my face. I needed guidance in wake of this new world. All my years of training of how to survive suddenly vanished from my mind.

  Is this why the Sage was to return to me for instructions in spring? Was my training as a Teragane only partially complete?

  I was alone, crying in an abandoned tower in the middle of the night in a foreign city. I was in a city full of people who did not want to help. Who could I seek out for guidance here?

  I did not know how to find Lillie. She was obviously well known, but no one thought to help me find her. Why? Why were these people so against helping me find Lillie? Why were they so apathetic? How could they not care about her friends?

  None of my instinctual ideas were working. I did not know if I would ever see Lillie again. The buried worries of losing Lillie—the fear that her parents would keep her from me or, worse, she wanted to rid herself of me—came exploding from the depths of my soul.

  Fear—no—utter despair and anguish filled my heart. I was distraught, I was alone, I was terrified, and I was paralyzed by all these new revelations overtaking my mind and body.

  Tears ran down my face, my sharp teeth clenched, and my hands gripped my hair. I stopped pacing and slumped to my knees, causing my stiff body to quiver. I pulled my hair in anguish, ignoring the sharp pain in my knees and scalp. My wings went limp, faltering onto the floor in a disoriented form.

  What am I even doing? Who do I think I am? Nothing! I am only a fool! A naive savage from the mountain who doesn’t belong here!

  I—I do not belong in Lillie’s world! I am only the lone Teragane from the mountain.

  My heart dropped. I gasped at this thought, my jaw unlocked, and my teeth unclenched. I grabbed my heart and gasped for air. I fell forward, catching myself with one hand on the floor, the other still grasping at my heart. I panted heavily as the tears fell onto the dirty wooden floor. My hair dangled in front of me, and my eyes burned from the dusty air and salt of my unending tears.

  I—I do not belong with Lillie.

  My eyes widened, and the burning sensation grew stronger. I let go of my chest, both hands clamped on the ground. My hands balled into fists; a shockwave ran down my spine as the onset of torture ensued in my body. I let out a cry, a scream of despair, and anguish. I fell over onto my side, crushing my limp wing, and my body curled into a fetal position. My wings were disoriented, limp, and crushed from my apathetic faltering, but I continued to ignore all decency of concern for myself. I lay there, paralyzed, feeling empty and cold. The darkness of the night cast a cold air, but I was already numb from desolation and the unbearable, horrible thoughts encircling my mind.