A Beginning

Wingless

It was, perhaps, an omen when the egg gave its first crack on the gloomiest day of the year. The eager, expectant parents crowded around the small product of their love even as thunder crashed about their home. The faint peeping coming from within the egg was nearly drowned out by the pounding of the rain on the roof.

I hope she looks like you, Xandria, whispered the father to his wife, nudging her gently with a wing.

Only if she has your eyes, Jasper, she replied, gazing into the bright green eyes of her husband.

The two Hissis returned their attention to the egg when, with another crack, a deep purple head poked through the shell. From her head rose four spines, webbed with a membrane just like her mother's, and her eyes were a brilliant green. The new parents smiled down at their daughter, entwining their tails in their delight.

Such a gorgeous little creature, cried the midwife as she entered, leaning over the partially-hatched Hissi cradled in the nest of blankets. Won't be long now before she--

Just then, with what could only be described as tremendous effort, the newborn burst free of her confines at last. All three of the adults gasped. Although the child seemed perfectly built and correctly proportioned, there was one major flaw in her design; the baby Hissi, looking with bright, expectant eyes at her parents, was wingless.

Xandria hid her face in her husband's shoulder. Jasper, for his part, gazed upon his child with horror. The poor child, grasping the wrongness of her parents' reactions, cringed back, hiding behind the remains of her shell. It was the midwife who finally took pity on the newborn, picking her up and cradling her.

What will you name her? the midwife asked.

What? Xandria looked up, gazing at the midwife in disbelief.

What will you name your daughter? she repeated.

That is not our daughter, Jasper hissed, showing his fangs. Do not ever refer to that thing as our daughter. We will provide for it, ensure it gets the proper care, but do not ever call it 'our daughter' again. The midwife flinched, disbelieving.

You cannot be serious, sir.

I have never been more serious. Jasper's voice was deadly. Now, go put that in the nursery, and call Alestra in here. There are a few things that need to be done. The midwife could only nod, and turned to leave. Jasper stopped her on the threshold. Oh, and if you anyone asks, the egg never hatched.

Alestra! Alestra, look! Jyakiia tugged on her surrogate mother's wing with her tail. The other Hissi chuckled.

What is it, child? Where's the fire? Turning to face the young one with a smile, Alestra's eyes widened at the sight of her. My goodness, dearest, what are those?

Strapped to Jyakiia's back were a pair of crudely made wings. They were little more than sticks and paper, but the young Hissi wore a grin broader than Alestra had ever seen.

They're wings, Alestra! Aren't they pretty? I made them myself! Jyakiia's green eyes sparkled with pride, and Alestra couldn't help but get caught up in her enthusiasm.

Why, of course they're pretty, the older Hissi affirmed, but why in the world would you need those silly things when you're gorgeous as you are? For the first time, Jyakiia's grin faltered, and she dropped her eyes to the floor.

I overheard Momma talking to Father, she murmured. She said 'If only she had wings'. So, I thought, maybe if I can make some, Momma will love me again. The grin returned. Do you think Momma will like them? Alestra could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and desperately tried to blink them away.

I'm sure your mother would love them, dearest, she lied. But come, now, let's get to your studies. How had it come to this, a child vying desperately for the love of her own mother?

Jasper had put Alestra, his most trustworthy servant, in complete charge of Jyakiia's upbringing. Alestra had been his personal secretary, and he had relied upon her for everything, most notably the dirty jobs he could not associate with as a public figure. Now he rarely spoke to her. And he never, after his initial instructions, mentioned Jyakiia, let alone checked on her.

Xandria, for her pat, was a little more present, but that was only because she could not seem to live without Alestra, who had been a close confidante. Her visits were always brief, and never seemed to contain more than the briefest of glimpses towards her daughter.

And yet, despite the fact that she was the child's mother for all intents and purposes, Alestra had made sure that Jyakiia knew who her real parents were. It was a decision that she made as soon as she became the child's surrogate, but it was a decision that, ultimately, made things worse. Because, this way, Jyakiia grew up knowing that her parents hated her existence, could hardly stand the sight of her. Being young, she did not understand why, and so she tried to make up for it. Of course, the rejection only became more potent with each effort. So Alestra had come to hate her decision to stick to the truth, to be the one to teach Jyakiia the terrible ruthlessness of the world. She regretted it every minute of every day, most especially when she ended up placing false hope in the child. Hope that could never, ever, come to fruition.

Alestra was pulled from her musings when Xandria entered.

Ah, there you are Alestra. I wanted to ask you a--What is that? Xandria froze halfway across the room, her gaze glued to the makeshift wings upon Jyakiia's back. The young Hissi looked up from her studies expectantly, but the eagerness in her eyes dimmed at the look on her mother's face.

They're wings, ma'am, Alestra explained slowly, hoping Xandria wouldn't make a scene with her daughter still within earshot. Jyakiia made them herself.

She...what? The words were little more than a hiss. Xandria reached out and ripped the offending objects from Jyakiia's back. Tears began to stream down the child's cheeks.

You don't like them, Momma? Alestra said you would... Her voice wavered and died as Xandria bared her fangs, turning to face the servant.

You told her...that I would like these monstrosities? You encouraged this? Alestra shrank away from the hostility radiating from Xandria. She's Flightless! A cripple! A freak! Are these supposed to change that, somehow? I've warned Jasper, told him that he ought to have given you stricter guidelines, but he refuses to get his wings dirty, can't stand anything to do with her. So I guess it's up to me. She took a deep breath, pausing in her tirade. Neither she nor Alestra noticed that Jyakiia was no longer beside them.

You are fired. You are to leave and never come back. And you are to take Jyakiia-- the name sounded like a curse on her tongue --with you. Alestra nodded numbly, strangely relieved. Maybe now, she could finally do right by Jyakiia. But when she turned to collect her, the young Hissi was not there.

Jyakiia? Alestra raced from the room and throughout all of the child's favorite haunts. Jyakiia? But it was no use. She was gone.

Jyakiia

The Ghost of the Caves

Jyakiia gazed into the mouth of the cave, squinting her green eyes in an effort to see deeper into the darkness. It was useless, of course. The sun had set hours ago, during her trek up the mountain, and the light she did have--a flickering torch--was dismal at best. She couldn't see more than a few feet in front of her.

Briefly, she considered waiting until morning, but she had promised her clients a quick job.

Half now, half after you clear the cave, the chief had said, carefully averting his eyes from her form. And remember, the ghost only appears at night.

Jyakiia had to suppress a snort. Most of her jobs amounted to little more than the results of overactive imaginations. Still, it was money, and her clients obviously believed in their claims if they were frightened enough to hire the likes of her.

So she had taken the job--and the money--and made her careful way to her current position halfway up the nearby mountain. It should be an easy job. The townspeople had all reported a suspicious noise coming from the cave, and their superstitious minds had jumped to the conclusion that there must be a ghost residing within it. All Jyakiia had to do was find the source of the noise--probably a gap in the cave letting in the wind--and block it.

But even as Jyakiia told herself this, she hesitated. Something about the cave set her on edge. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one with which she was not comfortable. Never before had a job made her uneasy.

Growling, she shook it off. If there was anything in the cave, it would be in for a surprise if it threatened her. She had enough venom in her fangs to make life extremely unpleasant for any would-be attacker.

Resolve renewed, she slithered forward.

Jyakiia had been in the cave for about an hour when she first heard the sound. She was picking her way down a steep, narrow incline when a soft, melodic voice drifted to her. After going so long in the silence, the sudden sound startled her, and she lost her balance.

Her torch fell out of her grasp as she slid down the sharp rocks headfirst. Not for the first time, she wished she had wings. Anything so that she might slow her fall. As it was, even though she struggled to turn sideways to brake, her speed only seemed to increase until her fall stopped--quite abruptly--when she rammed into a boulder at the base of the incline.

Her breath rushed out of her with a whoosh as her body wrapped around the impediment to its descent. She thought she heard a crack as several of her ribs broke, but that could have been the sound of her head slamming into the wall.

A few small rocks continued to tumble down after her as she lay there, trying to focus her vision on the dimming torch, which had somehow landed only a few feet from her. Even though her vision swam, she could tell that the encroaching darkness was not entirely due to her throbbing head. She watched in dismay as the flames dwindled to embers and, finally, went out.

Jyakiia struggled to fight rising panic as the darkness settled around her. It was difficult enough to breathe if she wasn't hyperventilating from terror. Her fear of the dark was something she hid on most occasions, but in her current situation, injured and alone in an unfamiliar place, it was overwhelming. Despite her efforts to keep calm, her breaths came sharper and faster, sending waves of pain through her battered body.

She was alone. She was miles away from the nearest civilization. More than that, though, no one would come looking for her. She was an outcast--a cripple, a freak. No one cared whether she lived or died. The only one who might look for her was the chief, since she had taken his money and had not fixed his 'problem'.

Jyakiia's thoughts took darker and darker turns as she began to grow lightheaded. Her imagination drew horrifying pictures in the darkness, mixing nightmares with real dangers as she lost her wavering grip on consciousness. The last thing she remembered was the voice that had caused her to fall, growing louder and more distinct in the darkness.

Jyakiia woke slowly. The first thing she was aware of was warmth, which was both odd and comforting, because she remembered being so cold before. She was also aware of a soft, almost ambient, glow that further roused her from slumber. Then the memories returned, one by one, drifting through her mind with the same pace as cold molasses. Remembering her fall, she briefly wondered if she was dead, since she felt so safe and warm, but that idea proved false when she stirred and a sharp twang raced up her spine. You weren't supposed to feel pain when you were dead. Tentatively, Jyakiia opened her eyes.

Ah, you are awake. The voice came from just behind her to her right, and she turned her head accordingly, hissing as another jolt of pain raced through her, this time originating from her skull and following her spine to the tip of her tail. I would not move too much if I were you. You took quite a crack to the head.

The voice, smooth and deep, reminded Jyakiia of chocolate, and perfectly suited the grey and red Hissi before her. His body was long and muscular, and the one wing she could see was finely boned, the translucent membrane membrane shining in the light. His obvious beauty shamed Jyakiia and she closed her eyes again, wishing she could curl into a ball.

She heard the other Hissi slither closer. There was a faint clinking sound, then Jyakiia felt something press against her lips.

Here, drink. Unable to deny the chocolate voice, Jyakiia obediently took a few sips from the glass. The cool liquid soothed her parched throat, and she risked opening her eyes once again.

Thank you, she said. She wanted to say more, but she was caught up in his beauty again. But as she looked up at him, she noticed something odd about his posture. His body and head were turned slightly away from her, his head tiled slightly to the right. It was almost as if he were hiding his right side. Before she could think on it further, however, she felt herself slipping once more into unconsciousness. She tried in vain to keep her eyes open.

Don't resist it, said the chocolate voice. Sleep. And she did.

The next time Jyakiia awoke, she was alone. She twisted her head to look for the Hissi, remembering too late that she wasn't supposed to move. Surprisingly, the pain she expected wasn't there. She rose up, lifting each rib slowly, hardly daring to breath lest the pain return, but it didn't. It was as if nothing had happened.

It was not a dream. Jyakiia jumped--it was as if he had read her thoughts. She had just been about to ask herself that question. She searched the small cavern--it must have been his home, with all the furnishings--but didn't see him. And, suddenly, he was just beside her. Blinking, Jyakiia jerked back.

How did you...? she sputtered, but he cut her off with a smirk.

Stealth is necessary when the local townspeople would kill you on sight. But he obligingly backed away, somehow maintaining the odd posture that kept only half of him in view. Tilting her head in confusion, she stared at him for a moment before shaking it off.

Anyway, she said, I suppose I should thank you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't found me.

You would have been found in another hour or so, he replied matter-of-factly. The townspeople were afraid you would run off with their money without doing anything about the 'ghost'. But then they would have just taken what was theirs and left you for dead. He snorted. So you are welcome.

Wait..what? Jyakiia shook her head, unable to process this information. Just who are you? The Hissi smiled and gave a regal bow.

I am Valdearg, the 'ghost of the caves'. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Miss...?

Jyakiia.

Miss Jyakiia. Her name rolled expertly off of his tongue, his chocolate voice seeming to caress the syllables. Jyakiia couldn't help but lean in towards him as he said it. Well, Jyakiia, I suppose you will want to leave, now that you are healed. She was shaking her head before her mind registered what Valdearg had said.

No. I'd like to stay longer, if you don't mind. His voice was so smooth and comforting, and he didn't look at her like she was a freak. Surely it couldn't hurt to stay a little longer?

Of course, that is fine. Valdearg held out his wing. But first, I must show you something. Let us sit somewhere more comfortable. He led her from the stone couch on which she sat to two velvet chaise lounges. Now, please do not be frightened.

Slowly, he shifted his weight, altering the strange posture he had so carefully held so that he was facing Jyakiia. She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her at the sight of the half Valdearg had hidden.

The entire right side of his face was...gone. There was nothing there but bone. An eye socket empty of a bright yellow eye gaped at her. His right wing, too, was nothing but ivory and ligaments.

Jyakiia backed away with a hiss. A kind of betrayal raced through her. No, he was perfect, her mind cried, unable to match her impression of him with the vision before her. With a look of dismay on his face, Valdearg began to follow her, only to stop in his tracks when she bared her fangs.

Don't come near me! she hissed. The words flew like venom from her lips. The betrayal burned hot in her heart, and she lashed out. What are you? Valdearg flinched as if she had bitten him. A great sadness passed across his features before transforming into anger. A low growl rumbled in his throat.

I am Valdearg, the ghost of the caves, the cursed one. I am cursed because I am Different. He pointed at her with his wing of bone. Not unlike you. He moved, and before she could react, she was up against the cold stone wall, her face mere inches from his hideous snout. I am a freak. No one can stand the sight of me, he hissed, air wheezing through his exposed teeth. I thought, perhaps, I might find some understanding in someone like myself, someone who is Different, but, apparently, you are a hypocrite, just as judgmental as everyone else.

Valdearg backed away as suddenly as he had charged her, leaving Jyakiia to sink slowly to the floor, hurt and confused. His back to her, his head hanging, Valdearg pointed with his good wing towards one end of the cavern. For the first time, Jyakiia noticed a pathway, lit by numerous small torches.

Get out. Valdearg's voice sounded hoarse, more like coarse gravel than smooth chocolate. The path is lit. Leave and never come back.

Still stunned, Jyakiia simply looked from the path, to the other Hissi, and back. Her mind struggled to catch up with what had happened. Was he right? Was she a hypocrite?

Get. Out. Valdearg's voice took on an edge, and Jyakiia obeyed without thinking. She looked back only once, to memorize the vision of the cursed Hissi in the dim light of the torches.

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