* IRA EMERSON ELYSIAN *

"Ma, I was wondering if you would like to see the spar I'm about to have? I can wield a sword now!"

It was just a mere request but it had taken me two nights to practise those words over and over again, thinking she would reject my request. I clutched the hem of my shirt firmly, waiting for her response as she went through her wooden cupboard while I pressed my toes against the floor, my heart hammering against my chest.

'Say yes, say yes, please.' I'd chanted again and again.

"Ma," I called again when I didn't get an answer from her.

"Yes, Ira?" She didn't hear anything I was saying.

I swallowed. "I was wondering if you would like to see me wielding a sword? I'm about to have my first formal spar," my voice was quiet and my grip against the hem of my shirt became more tight as I bit my lip.

She turned around, facing me and then gave me the same look of pity that I resented. She stepped towards me, crouched down, both of us having the same height now.

She took my little hand and just like that, I let go of the hem of my shirt, as if letting go the last straw of hope I had.

"Your brother Ember is having trouble with disguising himself. Your father is coming soon to take him and make an appearance to everyone. I have to help him," she brushed the back of my palm using her finger pads while I bobbed my head, looking down, feeling awful.

She let go of my hands and ran a hand through my chin-length hair, brushing away locks of hair that was covering my eyes. I wanted them to hide my eyes, so she couldn't see the tears that was brimming.

"Look at your hair -- all grown and covering your eyes," she chuckled as she tucked the lock of hair behind my ear and cupped my cheek gently.

"Edric used to have the same haircut. You look so much like him," it was the first time I'd seen her being so close to me, smiling at me and for a moment I forgot all the grudges that I'd been holding because of her.

"I will give you a haircut next time you have a spar," she smiled, patting my hair. "And I will be there too."

Her next time never came.

Despite being in meadow for the first time, it still reminded me of mother.

I sat in the middle of the bright meadow, my knees close to my chest, my crossed arms on my knees, my face resting on my arms and my bare back facing the Ezèrian who still hadn't spoken a word after seeing my condition.

"Your Highness. . ." Terror. That's what I could sense in her voice.

I hummed in a response, my voice muffled and too tired to form words.

"Your back is in a critical condition! How long has it been?"

"Ten months I think,"

I heard a small gasp escaping her lips.

"Your wings. . ." She pondered and I could imagine her sharp eyes scrutinising my wings and it didn't take her a while to realise the truth. "They are forcefully attached,"

And here we go.

"Your Highness, by any chance, do you have transferred renèi Possession?"

I closed my eyes, thinking what I should say next.

Don't tell her the truth. Tell her to mind her own business.

"Yes, I do,"

Amazing. Just amazing.

"And judging by the condition of your wings, your body wasn't compatible with the transmission?"

I shook my head in response, feeling vulnerable. I no longer felt the need to lie about it - it felt tiring and for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to lie to her either.

"But renèi transmission is forbidden if both of the bodies are not compatible with the reception and transmission," she pointed out.

"There are many things forbidden but we still do it to survive," I managed to say. "I did it to be something instead of being a Naught,"

"Your Highness. . ." I wanted to see her and I also didn't want to see because of the disappointment I'd see. "You. . . you're a Naught. You're not a White Wing Possessor," I could feel her going away from me.

I'm sorry.

"Then, who is it? Who is the real White Wing Possessor?" It seemed like she was asking herself as her voice went quiet and I could sense the disappointment as well.

My heart felt heavy.

"My father."

She didn't speak anything for the next one minute and I remained quiet too.

"Then why-"

"Begin the procedure - heal me," I said, not wanting to hear anything else. "That's what you're here for."

"Pardon my impertinence towards you - I was too surprised to notice my behaviour," She said, maybe she even bowed a little.

I buried my face further into my arms, closing my eyes, afraid of what's about to come next.

"It is going to hurt a little at first, but you'll adapt," she warned me, her voice quiet, gentle and somehow assuring.

"I don't think it can hurt more than it already does," I said, wondering if my words even reached her because of my muffled voice.

And then it began.

Her finger, index finger specifically, was grazing the part of my back where my wings were attached. My back felt warm at first, then it burned and I flinched upon her touch. She pressed two fingers against my wings, this time with more force and my whole body was on fire - my back burned in pain, itched when the feathers were moved and my shoulders weren't slumped anymore, they were rigid, alarmed.

The Ezèrian even murmured a few words in old Elysian language but I was too occupied with the pain in my back.

I raised my head from my knees, frowning and trying to move my back by rolling my shoulders. "Miss Echethier, are you plucking out my feathers?" I asked when I felt another feather being pulled out gently.

"Only the ones that are no longer useful,"

"Aren't every feathers like that?"

"No, Your Highness. It seems like only a specific amount of feathers are no longer wanting to stay in an incompatible body, making them fall one by one and because they were stuck forcibly with too much force, they are having trouble with falling," she explained, her finger sliding in my back, and for a moment, I didn't feel any pain.

"And the feathers which are still intact are being affected by the ones that are trying to fall and as a result, they are also trying to fall off," she said, brushing her thumb against my back, pulling feathers out.

"If I somehow pull out all the feathers that are trying to fall off, maybe the intact ones will remain useful and won't try to fall off," I heard her saying as she now used two hands, two of her thumbs brushing against my scars.

"My healing will reduce the pain, Your Highness -- but it will not stop the feather from falling," her voice went quiet, dreadful.

"How long until all my feathers fall off?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"Depends on how much you release your renèi - if you keep releasing it time to time, all the fine feathers is mostly to fall as well - just like the ones that are trying to fall now,"

I thought for a moment before speaking, "Start practising intense healing - I might need that," I said and then realised something. "It's not going to cost your life or anything, is it?" I turned my head impulsively, not being able to see her face.

She let out a chuckle. "It will just tire me out, that's all," For some reason, I wasn't able to believe her. If simple healing already makes her tired then wouldn't intense healing cost more?

I bobbed my head, feeling unwanted yet again.

Half an hour had passed and the silence was killing me. I couldn't shake off the thoughts of her judging me while healing me, I couldn't stop thinking about what she might be thinking of me. She must be thinking I was a liar, a traitor and a weakling. Not only I had transferred renèi because I was weak, I couldn't even protect it. She must be wondering how could I have the audacity to hate the Ezèrian while I was a weakling myself.

"Your parents - what happened to them?" Look at me, being so shameless, still wanting despite being a nothing, still wanting to talk despite being a liar.

She was quiet for the next moment, her fingers grazing the skin of my back soothingly, curing it, healing me.

"Father was killed for being an Ezèrian. Mother killed herself for being an Ezèrian,"

I remained quiet and nodded - this was normal. Ezèrian simply killing themselves because they hated themselves for their ancestors' sins or them being killed by renèi Possessors because they were loathing creatures who used to massacre innocents years ago.

"Who raised you after their deaths?" I asked.

"No one particularly. My cousin and I raised ourselves by pickpocketing, stealing and using our powers," she said begrudgingly. "It was hard at first because we were simply two kids who didn't know how the world worked - our world,"

She was just a kid.

I imagined the little version of the Ezérian, lost, fragile and innocent - not knowing anything about the world. She didn't get anything she deserved - parents, home or protection -- nothing. She got nothing.

There are still others like her.

"I learned that I had to hide myself to survive -- so I did so," her voice went quiet, her fingers still ever so gently going through my scars. "I've been surviving ever since I was a kid,"

And after she said that, I realised something: the world was cruel - to me and to her.

"Do you miss them? Your parents?" The question came out faster than I'd expected.

She let out a scoff. "I hate them. Both of them were cowards. My father was a normal Ezèrian but he was an Air Manipulator. He could have saved himself from the mere renèi Possessors by simply taking air out of their lungs. But he didn't - he let them kill him. Hell, he even begged for death,"

The burden of their ancestors' sins.

"My mother was a bigger coward. When I was begging her to save father from being killed, she denied despite being a Gifted Ezèrian. She was a healer like me - she could have healed my father who was being stoned to death," she paused, plucking out a feather from my back.

"She didn't - she said it was for the best and the next thing I knew, she grabbed the nearest blade she could find and cut her throat. That was it - no goodbye, no last words." With that being said, her fingers left my back, all the warmth I was feeling temporarily was gone as well.

I stayed where I was, not moving albeit the healing was done.

"What happened?" It was odd - me suddenly so interested in someone's life, an Ezèrian at that.

"I went to my uncle's house, only to find he had met the same fate as my father and his wife was also dead - both of them stoned to death. I looked for my cousin and found him shaking under a table," she paused and continued.

"We figured out that the place we had been using to hide was found by anti-Ezèrian organisation and they didn't hesitate to kill anyone. Since we hid ourselves during the invasion, we survived," she stood up.

"We disguised ourselves, left our parents there and left Ezèria without looking back."

Ezèria was a province in Elysia - decades ago, it was build by the Ezèrian (hence the name) and was mostly habitant for the Ezèrian. In fact, I even heard tales about it that the Ezèrian had started their reign from that very province. That was, until my father took the usurped throne and demolished the Ezèrian from there.

I'd visited there - Ezèria - it was now full of renèi Possessors. But maybe there are some Ezèrian as well, hiding and surviving.

I grabbed my poet shirt that was laying beside me, among the wildflowers and put it on. Standing up, my back no longer felt heavy, the pain wasn't fully gone, but it was bearable, I could walk without wincing and twitching my back after every one minute. I rolled my shoulders without fear and felt relieved.

I turned around and saw the Ezèrian bending down and picking up the feathers that were mostly smeared in my crimson blood. I looked away from them, it reminded me of my father for some reason.

"Throw them away," I ordered, walking away. "Disgraceful things like that don't suit in a meadow."

****

"You don't have anything to ask me?" I hated how badly I wanted to converse with her.

"What if I sound impertinent? I was quite rude when I asked you about the wings,"

"Ask away. I'm fine," I realised we were walking in the same pace and were making our way out of the glade.

"Did you became a renèi Possessor to be a something or you became one for someone?" she asked, her voice holding uncertainty and fear.

"I did it for my mother," was my answer as memories came flashing down. "I thought she would accept me as her son if I became something like my brothers instead of being a Naught,"

"Did she see it? Your renèi Possession? Your wings?"

The wind blew around us, leaves from the willow tree raining on us, the lake that the Ezèrian had created seemed like it was glistening under the rays of the sun, sparkling, enchanting, just like her. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear while turning my head, facing her as she waited for an answer.

Leaves fell on her cheeks, some on her ruffled hair and some didn't even touch her. She held a confused expression on her face, her head tilted in a side, the sudden blow of wind not bothering her despite the hair spreading over her face. My fingers twitched upwards, the urge to tuck the strand of hair behind her ears strong and suddenly, all those memories that I was trying to subside came to a halt when I locked my eyes with hers.

With the sun rays falling onto her cheeks, illuminating them, I felt my own world colliding with hers, unable to pull out, or maybe I didn't want to be pulled out. I wanted to go - wherever she was going to take me.

At that time, with my heart pounding hard, I realised something: she was beautiful.

"She didn't," I said, getting lost - where, I didn't know but I wanted to - as long as she was there with me as well. "She died the day I released my renèi Possession for the first time."

***

with the ugly memories about to consume ira, he saw something beautiful.

***