Just a collection of various stories I began with no intention to finish, or answers to writing prompts. Enjoy! Please visit my author page on FB! Also note, some of these may be removed later if I feel the urge to expand on them!


5. Wings

         Most think they know them. But I know them better.
         Made of water? Not from where I come from.
         Here, clouds are solid. They remind me of soft grass of a summer day. Though not many know the feeling of grass anymore. The earth disappeared long ago.
         Now we live in the sky, among the clouds. Here we build homes and stables and plant trees in the clouds. Here we grow plants and raise children in the clouds.
         But this is not my story to tell. Let us meet the child.


         Sera blinked.
         “I don’t know.”
         “How can you not know? Are you stupid or something?”
         “Everyone knows how to summon their Wings by now, Sera. What’s with you?”
         “…I don’t know.”
         Nigel crossed his arms, sulking.
         “And I wanted to go hunt some monsters today. You can’t hunt monsters without Wings. Everyone knows that.”
         “…I’m sorry…”
         “You better be.”
         “I could try.”
         Nigel shrugged. “Why not? I guess it couldn’t hurt. Maybe hunting will help you get your Wings out.”
         Sera grinned.
         The sun was high over the hill when they reached the forest. This was Serafym and Nigel’s favorite place to go, though more and more monsters were appearing every day. It was as if something was drawing them out.
         The girl ran her fingers through her dark locks, glancing at the emerald sea before them. She was only twelve, but already she had mastered at least the use of a knife. One day she hoped to wield a sword, maybe as big as the one her father has used during the war. 
         Something shook the bushes to the left.
         “Get ready,” Nigel hissed, nocking an arrow.
         Much to her relief, a winged lizard screeched, flapping about frantically. This would be easy.
         With a twist of her hips, Sera leaped into the air, striking at the beast. It roared in pain, a gash on its wing.
         “Duck!” Nigel called, an arrow flying over Sera’s head. It caught the lizard right between the eyes. A flick of her wrist sent the head flying.
         “Nice,” Nigel grinned. 
         Suddenly, a roar echoed through the trees. At first Sera ignored it, though Nigel grabbed her arm.
         “Is that…the dragon?”
         He nodded. Without another word, the two fled the forest

         “It was so huge! Bigger than a house!”
         “I told you not to go searching for it!”
         “But Mom…!”
         Nigel’s mother was very strong willed. When something was decided, she stuck to it no matter what.
         “That’s enough, now sit down and eat.”
         Sera stood off to the side, almost waiting for instruction.
         “Sera, dearie, why don’t you head home? Nigel will be happy to go hunting again tomorrow after he finishes his chores.” She glared at her son, he frowned, looking dejected.
         “Thanks, Mrs. …Nigel’s mom.”
         “Please, call me ‘Liza,” she grinned.
         “Thank you…’Liza.”
         The way home wasn’t hard. The small village was so familiar to Sera she could walk it blindfolded. She had always felt out of place here, though, like she was meant to be somewhere else. She had always pushed the feeling aside, but it was getting harder now that she was the only one in her class not able to summon her Wings of the Heart.
         It is said that a person’s Wings reflect their inner self. For example, Nigel’s were dark brown and hawk-like, with a few flecks of black spatter over them. Many would say he would make a great hunter someday and possibly serve the country in the forces. Though she had only seen them once before, ‘Liza’s where tan and gray, reminding Serafym of an owl of sorts. She was very calm and quiet, but firm and fair in judgments.
         The girl was interrupted from her musings by the scent of something odd. Was it …something burning? She blinked, glancing around. No one was cooking outside this late. The light could attract monsters or other wild critters. The scent got stronger as she drew closer to her house. 
         Suddenly, it hit her.
         “Mom! Dad!” she screamed rushing to the door. She turned to corner, and stopped dead.
         The blaze had engulfed the entire house. People were already trying desperately to put it out, but to no avail.
         “Sera! It happened so fast!” her neighbor, Mr. Dunth dashed over, somewhat relived. “I’m glad you’re safe. A few brave people dashed inside to find your parents, but all of them returned empty handed.”
         Serafym stood in shock. She had no words.
         “Rikor, get this girl some water! You sit here, Sera. We’ll see what we can save.”
         Flames everywhere. She couldn’t breath.
         A corpse lay on the ground. It was unidentifiable. 
         “Yes, Serafym, yes. Now you know. Yes…yes…”
         “Who is that?”
         Serafym shot awake. She glanced around, finding herself in the sheep’s pen.
         “Oh, good. You’re awake.”
         “Where is this?”
         The old man smiled. His head was almost bald from his receding hairline.
         “You’re in my sheep’s pen, that’s where you are.”
         “Am I still in Lysinth?”
         “Oh no, I carted you out of there after you fainted. Everyone believes I’m your grandfather.”
         “You’re not? How can I get back?”
         “Why do you want to go back? Everyone has forgotten you already.”
         “…what? What about Nigel?”
         “To him, it is as if you have never existed.”
         “…Nigel…?” She felt tears well up in her eyes. How could her best friend already have forgotten her?
         “Child, let me explain something to you. What you have known before now was an illusion, simply something to keep you busy until this point. Now is when your real life begins.”
         “…illusion…?” The tears were coming freely now, leaving wet trails on her tan face.
         “I know it’s hard to grasp, but it’s true. You were not meant to be there.”
         “…who…am I then?”
         “You are Seraphim.”
         “No, it’s Serafym,” she gritted her teeth against more tears.
         “Child, you will understand one day.”
         “Where am I supposed to go?”
         “The high priestess will know the answers. She’s in Jikandor.”
         “…all the way over there?”
         “From here it isn’t far. A girl your age should have no trouble. How old are you anyway?”
         The old man put his finger in the air and grinned.
         “Wrong again.”
         “You are in fact...two…three…four hundred and twenty-seven years old.”
         “Again, you will understand someday. But for now, you are twelve.”
         “And my name is Serafym.”
         “But my name’s really Seraphim and I’m really 427.”
         “What the FAWK is goin’ on?!”
         “Calm down, child. Go to Jikandor. All will be explained later.”



         And so, the child set out on her journey.
         Soon she would know the truth.
         Soon she would know what was real.
         Soon the day would come, that she would save us all.


         The wind ran through her blonde hair, making it ripple and flow like a golden river. She held her coat closer to protect herself from the cold. The wind got bad here on the ridge.
         She glanced down at the ravine path, the water sparkling like crystals. Then she noticed something different – a dark spot.
         With elven grace, she leaped down from rock to rock, landing silently next to the sleeping girl. She walked around her a few times, wondering what such a young human was doing in this part of the woods. She didn’t seem distressed, just napping.
         The human groaned, and her stomach echoed. She was waking up.
         She wasn’t expecting the elf to be standing right next to her.
         “…oh MY GOD!”
         The elf giggled.
         “I won’t hurt you.”
         “That’s what they all say…”
         The elf called up her Wings. They were white and yellow, much like a large canary.
         “See? My wings show I have no evil intentions.”
         “Let me see your wings.”
         “…I don’t have any.”
         “Oh yes you do,” the elf grinned. “You just haven’t learned to summon them yet.”
         “I think. That’s what the priestess said.” The elf replied, putting a hand on her chin thoughtfully. 
         “You know where I can find the priestess?” Serafym lit up hopefully.
         “Not sure. I only saw her once. And that was when I was small.”
         “How old are you really?”
         “I’m young for an elf – 25.”
         “You look like you’re 15…” Serafym was becoming a little frustrated, but she stayed calm.
         “Why thank you!” the elf giggled. “What’s your name?”
         “…you first.”
         “A little distrusting, are we? Ah, well. I’m Mitri.”
         “That’s…a really pretty name.”
         “And you are?”
         “Sarah? That’s pretty, too!”
         Serafym had decided that revealing her full name might not be a good idea at this point, though she hated lying.
         “Buck up, Sarah. I want to see a smile.”
         “Because frowning puts more wrinkles on your face.”
         The elf bounded ahead, Serafym dragging her heels. 
         Why did this have to happen? I just want to go home. I want to see Mom and Dad and Nigel again… She felt hot tears coming, though she gritted her teeth against them. Her tan skin was a violent contrast to the elf’s fair skin, and it made her feel even more out of place.
         I hate this. I don’t want to be Seraphim. I want to be Sera at home.

         “What’s wrong?”
         Serafym hadn’t noticed the elf looking at her with concern-filled eyes.
         “Now, come on. I’m not going to bite your head off. Tell Mitri what’s bothering you.”
         “Referring to yourself in third person is the first sign of insanity,” the raven-haired girl spat.
         “So it is. Now talk.”
         She was persistent. Serafym was too upset to care. She spilled everything: Nigel, her lack of Wings, the fire, the old man, Seraphim, even how old she really was, all of it through massive rivers of tears and piles of tissues and hankies that Mitri somehow managed to hide in her pockets. After it was all done, she sat there in silence.
         “…wow. That’s a lot on your shoulders, Seri.”
         “It’s Sera.”
         “…so what now?”
         “That’s easy! I’ll come with you!”
         “Just what I said. I’ll help you get your Wings. I may look young, but I’m really mature…sometimes.” She giggled.
         Serafym smiled. “…alright.”
         “Now cheer up, frowny-face. I’ll make us some tea and cake at my place.”

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