The Omen- Winged

Comission done by Hybrid

• Like an omen 
  No matter what everyone said, being twelve wasn’t easy, Teryn knew that much. Stuck in an 
  age range where she wasn’t exactly a little birdie anymore, but she wasn’t an adult just yet, she 
  was struggling in between the two worlds with no way out but waiting. That’s fine, she thought 
  anyway, because her parents and older siblings couldn’t force her to stay in the nest forever. Her 
  little room had become too small for her wings, and Teryn was eager to explore the skies just 
  like older Avarian people did. 
  “Teryn, could you go gather my fruit order in the village? It should be ready by now” Her father 
  called from the kitchen, “Or are you still pouting at us?” 
  Teryn didn't reply at first; she knew that they were throwing her a bone, asking her to go to the 
  village  alone,  but  the  little  city  wasn’t  enough  for  her  anymore.  She  wanted  to  explore  the 
  mountains,  the  valleys,  the  curves  of  the  river  on  the  hill  down  in  the  southern  region.  She 
  wanted to meet new people, new friends, discover new species of plants and insects so high on 
  tree branches that only an Avarian could reach. 
  “I’ll go, alright,” she conceded in the end, exiting her room but not dropping the pout yet. “But 
  when will you guys learn that I can take care of myself just fine?” She asked, crossing her arms 
  on her chest while her feathers ruffled in distress. 
  Her mother rolled her eyes. “Honey, I know how frustrating it is, okay? I’ve been there too with 
  my parents, and so has your father. But there’s a time for everything, and flying alone far away 
  from the village is too risky. We stick together, us Avarians.” 
  Teryn didn't reply to her, meeting her brother’s amused gaze before grabbing an empty basket. 
  She stuck her tongue out before jumping out of the kitchen window and soaring through the sky 
  so smoothly it felt like walking. This is what she loved the most: the sense of freedom that came 
  when the wind supported her wings, inviting her to swirl left and right, caressing her feathers 
  like they belonged in the sky. 
  Life in the village was easy. With only a few hundred Avarians sheltered there, everyone knew 
  everyone,  and  when  Teryn’s  wings  folded  on  her  back  and  her  feet  landed  on  the  ground, 
  several warm eyes recognized her and greeted her quietly. 
  “Good morning, Skur,” she waved her hand at the old hybrid on the threshold of his store. Skur 
  had known her since  she  was  still stumbling on her wings, barely  able  to  flap them properly, 
  and he’d watch her go from a little naive birdie to the Avarian she was growing up to be. “Do 
  you have my father’s order?” 
  The old Avarian grinned and pointed at a selection of his best harvest. “Been waiting for you, 
  kid,” he said, placing the colorful fruits in her ready basket. Teryn’s eyes wandered through the 
  other boxes of vegetables and supplies, not finding as many as she usually did. 
  “What happened to the rest of the harvest? Has it been a busy day?” She asked. 
  Skur’s expression darkened. “Nah, kid, it’s because of these damn storms.” 
  1
• She frowned. “Storms?” 
  “The  storms,  yeah.  It’s  been  hard  to  harvest  a  full  field  without  finding  more  than  half  of  it 
  ruined by rain and hail. Even snow, sometimes. I don’t know what’s happening to these skies, 
  but it can’t be good.” 
  Almost  like  an  omen,  the  sky  rumbled  somewhere  north  in  the  distance  and Teryn  tilted  her 
  head. “I’m sorry  to hear that,  but let me  know if I  can help somehow!  I could even come by 
  your field early in the morning and help you harvest what can be saved.” 
  Skur  smiled  warmly  and  patted  her  head.  “Don’t  you  worry,  kid.  It’s  not  the  first  storm  I’ve 
  seen, it won’t be the last. Business is still pretty good, so you just fly back home and enjoy these 
  peaches, alright?” 
  Teryn wasn’t fully convinced yet, but she spread her wings again, nodded at him and jumped in 
  the air. It wasn’t as easy to fly with the heavy basket in her hands, but she managed to reach her 
  house without faltering once in the air, which only proved to her that she was actually becoming 
  an even more expert flier. “Here it is!” She offered the basket to her father, who grabbed it with 
  satisfaction. 
  “Skur is always a safe bet, isn’t he, darling?” 
  Teryn’s mom turned to him and grabbed one delicious looking apple. “He truly is. We should 
  save him some of these waffles,” she said, scooping a pile of freshly baked goods aside from 
  the others. 
  Teryn’s earlier bad mood had melted away in the meanwhile. Nobody surrounded by so much 
  love and good energy could keep a bad mood for too long, especially in front of the royal dinner 
  his parents had prepared for the family. “Let’s eat, then!” 
  After a well deserved and exquisite meal, Teryn withdrew to her room. It had been so nice to fly 
  again,  earlier  today,  and  she  so  wished  her  parents  allowed  her  to  go  out  more  often 
  unsupervised. But the rules were clear  and  especially  strict for the night. No leaving the  nest 
  alone. How could a kid like her improve in her flight if she wasn’t allowed to get out and try? 
  She  was  entitled  to  her  own  failures,  because  it  was  only  through  them  that  Teryn  could 
  understand what needed to be fixed,  changed,  improved.  How could she explore the world  if 
  she couldn’t even explore the nearby forest on her own? 
  She wasn’t proud of it, but she decided to wait for the last light in the house to be turned off; 
  then, when a regular  snoring came from her parents  bedroom, she opened the window  of her 
  room, took a deep breath and jumped outside.   
  The cold air of the night ruffled her  feathers, but Teryn took a deep breath,  inhaling deep the 
  sense  of  freedom.  Her  wings  spread  in  the  dark  sky,  soaring  over  the  village  and  the 
  surrounding area. When she looked up to stare at the starry sky, though, she found nothing but a 
  gray  veil  of  clouds  towering  over  her  head;  the  storm  that  Skur  had  predicted  was  about  to 
  2
• happen.  Flashes  of  lighting  in  the  long  distance  brightened  the  clouds,  followed  by  weak 
  thunder. Teryn swirled in the air, unashamed to admit that she enjoyed the loneliness of the sky 
  at night, even if cloudy, even if empty. She could hear the voice of her mother at the back of her 
  head, We stick together, us Avarians, and of her father, No flying in bad weather, kid! but that 
  didn't stop her from moving further down the valley, following the sound of hidden waterfalls 
  and the purring of sleeping animals. 
  Just when she was about to push herself lower down the valley, it started raining, and it didn't 
  start slow. It wasn’t the kind of rain you could ignore because it could barely wet your clothes 
  and feathers; this was the kind rain you sought refuge from, because it stuck to your feathers, 
  weighted you down and prevented you from soaring high. Teryn had never flown through this 
  kind of rain and despite her initial nervousness, the curiosity of finding out how that felt had the 
  best of her. Instead of finding shelter like she’d been taught all life, she jumped higher, closing 
  her wings for just a moment so that the rain wouldn't catch them, only to spread them as wide as 
  she could to float in the air. The sight from up there was majestic: the flashing lighting in the 
  sky popped right and left while thunder followed like music, the water drops fell mercilessly but 
  so regular that Teryn couldn’t help but stand still, just staring, mesmerized. 
  It was when the wind started blowing that she actually lost control of the situation. No matter 
  how  hard  she  tried  to  instruct  her  wings  in  one  direction,  no  matter  how  hard  her  muscles 
  clenched  to  resist  the  air  stream, Teryn was tossed  around  like  a  dry  leaf,  unable  to  fight  the 
  power of the wind. The rain got in her eyes, slid inside her clothes, and when the wind pushed 
  her upside down, making her lose grip on the air underneath her wings, Teryn screamed in fear. 
  Shivering terribly and gasping in panic, she was pushed against the bark of a high, steady tree. 
  A good sign from the sky, the only one. She climbed over the thickest branch she could find, 
  holding on for  dear  life  and  wiping her eyes  from  unshed  tears  and rain. She  had  to  go  back 
  home, she shouldn’t have come out here. 
  The lights in her house had just turned on, she could spot them in the dark mist; Teryn shook the 
  water off her wings and took a deep breath and gathered the strength to fly again, just a quick 
  spin to reach  the nest, but as she spread her wings  again, the lighting  struck again. Only, this 
  time, right on her home. 
  “NO—!”  She  shouted,  covering  her  mouth  in  horror  as  light  smoke  arose  from  the  rooftop, 
  where the first bits of fire were born. She had to reach them, she had to save them before— 
  The  flame  grew  in  width  and  height  despite  the  heavy  rain,  spreading  easily  through  the 
  chambers of her house; windows broke from the inside, spitting out pieces of glass and fabric of 
  the curtains. Teryn was too far away to hear voices, but even just imagining them was tearing 
  her up. She jumped down the branch, flying clumsily towards the village as fast as she could, 
  but thunder rumbled right above her head, causing her to falter and stumble on the ground. “I 
  have  to  save  them,”  she  muttered,  starting  to  run,  since  flying  wasn’t  an  option  anymore. 
  Another flash brightened the sky above her for a second, before a web of lighting came crashing 
  on  the  village,  from  the  suburbs  to  the  core  of  the  city,  from  empty  alleys  to  inhabited 
  neighborhoods, the storm  didn't show mercy on the Avarians.  Every house, every shop, every 
  square  had  been  hit  by lighting  so  powerful  it  started flames,  and  the  sight  of her  birthplace 
  being destroyed so relentlessly, so cruelly, tore a sob out of her. 
  3
• With one last spark of hope, she started sprinting towards the entrance of the village. Her house 
  was  placed  slightly  higher  than  the  rest  of  the  village,  so  maybe  there  was  still a chance her 
  parents and siblings were alive— 
  “Wait!” A  voice  came  from  behind  her  before  something,  someone,  grabbed  her  arm.  Teryn 
  flinched  in  terror  and  surprise,  staring  wide-eyed  at  the  lady  in  front  of  her. A woman,  not  a 
  hybrid like Teryn, although her leg wasn’t completely human, stood behind her. “You can’t go 
  there, it’s too dangerous,” she said. She didn't seem injured, just drenched in rain and covered 
  with dark spots of black dust here and there. 
  “My family’s still there, I have to help them!” Teryn shouted over the noise of the storm and the 
  thunder. 
  The woman shook her head, not loosening the grip on her arm in the least. “It’s too late, honey, 
  and  it’s  dangerous  for  us  to  linger  around  here.  We  have  to  find  shelter  before  the  lighting 
  strikes again.” 
  “I can’t leave them here, I won’t!” Teryn yelled back, trying to free herself from the grasp of the 
  stranger. 
  The woman wrapped her arms around her torso, trying to trap her on the spot and successfully 
  preventing  her  from  flying  away.  Teryn  hit  her  arm,  her  ribs  and  her  metallic  leg  without 
  success. She was too young and too small compared to the other to manage to hold her ground 
  against her, but the powerful bite she inflicted on the woman’s arm managed to give herself one 
  second of break 
  The  woman  frowned,  letting  go  of  her  for  just  a  moment,  probably  wanting  to  resolve  the 
  conflict  more  peacefully,  but  Teryn  jumped  away  from  her  and  started  sprinting  towards  the 
  village. Her wings were of no use in that rain; on the other hand, it was difficult to carry them 
  on  her  back,  heavy  and  drenched  as  they  were,  while  she  was  trying  to  move  as  swiftly  as 
  possible. 
  “Come back! Everything’s on fire, you can’t go there! Kid!” The woman shouted, running after 
  Teryn with her arm shielding her face from the smoke. 
  “I have to reach them— my family,” Teryn muttered under her breath, coughing from the stench 
  in  the  air  and  blinking  through  tears.  “My  family’s  still  there,”  she  whispered,  one  moment 
  before the side of the mountain was hit by lightning and wind at once. 
  Rocks and trees started rolling downhill, and while the woman screamed at her to move away, 
  Teryn could only stare in horror as the mountain debris ran over the entirety of the village like 
  an unstoppable avalanche, covering houses and rooftops, crushing them within the last hint of 
  hope of Teryn. 
  “I—“ she gasped, collapsing on her knees as her breath was cut off by the realization that, even 
  if  they’d  survived  the  fire,  the Avarians  couldn’t  have  survived  the  mountain  crushing  upon 
  them. “Mother, father,” she weeped, covering her face in shame, regret, despair. 
  4
• “Come, let’s get away from this place,” the woman spurred, grabbing Teryn by her shoulders 
  and pulling them up. She didn't try to coddle Teryn, she didn't try to stop her cries and shouts, 
  she didn't even try to stop her from hitting her and escaping. The only thing she did was lift her 
  up despite the weight of wet wings and carry her out of the village, away from the fire and the 
  danger. 
  Teryn didn't know how long they’d walked for when they reached the cave the woman stopped 
  in front of. She looked  around  as  if to check they were alone,  then  guided Teryn  inside of it. 
  There was a fireplace brightening the inside of the cave, a makeshift bed of leaves and a bowl 
  of water left on the floor. 
  “I came here right when the storm started,” the woman explained, following her gaze. “I didn't 
  know how long it would last, so I prepared for the worst.” She sat beside Teryn on the floor as 
  they both watched the rain fall outside of the cave. “I heard shouts coming from the village, so I 
  hurried there, thinking there was still someone alive, but it was only you.” 
  “I—“  Teryn  started,  trying  to  swallow  the  sense  of  guilt  pooling  in  her  chest,  “I  snuck  out 
  earlier tonight. I wanted to fly, I wanted to—“ she sobbed, letting the woman pull her closer to 
  cry on her shoulder. “My parents and my siblings were still there, and I saw the lighting— I saw 
  it  hit  the  nest.  I  tried  to  fly  there,  but  the  rain  was  too  strong…I  should  have  never  left  the 
  house, just like they’d said. We-we stick together, us Avarians.” 
  “You  poor  thing,”  the  woman  hushed  her,  caressing  through  her  wet  feathers.  “It’s  not  your 
  fault, do you hear me? None of this is your fault.” She cupped Teryn’s cheek, wiping away the 
  small tears still mixed with rain. “You saved yourself tonight. If you hadn’t left the house, you 
  would  have  died  in  that  fire,  or  in  under  that  avalanche.  You  saved  yourself,”  she  repeated, 
  staring right into Teryn’s eyes with a tenderness the kid felt like she didn't deserve. 
  In fact, she shook her head as another wave of guilt flooded through her. “I shouldn’t have left, 
  so  I’d  still  be  with  them  right  now,”  she  sobbed,  “My  family,  the  village…everything’s  lost 
  now.” 
  “You’re not lost,” the woman said, “I found you.” She held Teryn close to her chest as if she 
  could break if she’d let go. Teryn swallowed with difficulty, feeling empty of everything else 
  but guilt. The woman smiled, although weakly, and pushed a wet lock of hair behind  her ear. 
  “Listen to me, kid,” she said, tapping Teryn’s hand to get her attention, “Your parents would be 
  rejoicing to know that their little girl is safe now, to know that you survived, that you’re alive.” 
  Teryn’s  lower  lip  trembled  as  she  tried  not  to  cry  again,  but  without  succeeding.  The  tears 
  erupted again, flowing freely like the rain outside, but the woman cuddled her even closer, and 
  her warmth rubbed off on her somehow, because, despite the pain and the guilt, she felt calmer 
  now. 
  “What’s your name, little bird?” The woman asked. 
  “…Teryn,” she murmured, looking up at her. 
  5

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Teryn. You can call me Val,” the other replied, smiling wider now, 

as if she wanted to give Teryn more hope, a silver lining in that dark night. 

The loud rumbling of close thunder interrupted the moment and Teryn flinched, shaking on the 

spot and pulling her knees against her chest. Not even the soothing hand on her back helped 

quieting  the  terror  in  her  wings.  “What  will  happen  to  me?  I’ve  got  nowhere  to  go,”  she 

muttered, desperately searching for answers on Val’s kind face. 

Val tilted her head, thinking in silence. “You could…you could stay with me,” she said in the 

end.  The  lines  of  doubts  that  had  initially  twisted  her  expression  disappeared  as  a  resolute 

determination took their place. “I’ll take care of you from now on, if you’d like to stick around 

a mere mortal like me,” she winked. 

Teryn  gaped  at  her.  How  could  she  find  so  much  energy  in  a  moment  like  that,  so  much 

confidence and hope? Teryn swallowed, looking down at her hands as she nodded weakly. “I’d 

like to stick with you, Val. If you’ll have me.” 

They didn't speak much after that, that night. Waiting out the storm and the rain while sitting in 

front of  the  fireplace,  broken  up  by the  loss  of  her  family  and home, Teryn’s trembling heart 

could only find refuge in the ready, welcoming arms of Val.