The Fickle Winds of Autumn

Kira strained her eyes out to the dim shadows around the corner at the exit of the cave; the stout bars held her in place, but the buffeting blasts of air teased her with their noisy freedom.

“Yes, I hear them too,” Harath blinked in at her, “the spirit-souls of Winter will arrive soon and settle on our mountain - it is an auspicious time for a new queen, and the Observance…”

“Do you have to keep mentioning that?” said Kira.

“Yes, sorry… I had always thought it would be a great honour to be the flesh of Graath… but now that I have spoken with you - now that we have talked so much - I see that you have a life of your own, a destiny, a future - something you must feel is more important than Graath and the aerie… Perhaps they all did… but how was I to know? None have ever broken the Gift before, none have awakened and spoken - you are the first, your soul carries a great strength.”

“But tomorrow evening I’ll be eaten, so what use will my spirit or soul be to me then? Or my friends?”

She nodded back towards the two lumpy outlines lying in the dark hush of the cell, their slow steady breathing counted out a soothing lullaby; Aldwyn occasionally snorted and snored, but he did not move.

“Yes, I shall miss you after the Observance; I feel you are a friend - you certainly seem to appreciate me more than the other Akkipter; I have never experienced this feeling - being a queen can become lonely at times - I have never really had a friend before.”

Kira’s mind swirled with agitated fragments - it had never occurred to her that a queen could ever be unhappy or lonely.

True, the rest of her subjects did intend to eat her flesh, but that wasn’t really Harath’s fault.

How had she managed all this time without even one friend to talk to?

What would her own miserable life have been without Amber?

“You’ve never had a friend?”

Harath looked down and scratched her claws on the cave floor.

“No, not really - at first they were all so frightened of me that they acted out of deference - they were courteous but never friendly, they never respected me, just my role as Queen. I did my duty proudly, but as I grew older, I saw their attitude change; lately some have sniggered at me when they thought I could not hear them, and when they realised that I was too weak to punish them, they became outwardly rude - especially when they were in groups together… well, you saw this some days ago, it is no use pretending, when Fyrttu, the captain of the aerie’s guardians, knocked me over.”

“But why did they start acting like this to you? You seem a very nice queen.”

“It’s because of my wings,” Harath lamented.

“Your wings?” said Kira. “I don’t understand.”

“When I was younger, my wings enjoyed the careless favours of the Winds - I was swift and daring, the mountain draughts were my playground - not even the fleet-footed mountain hare could escape the deadly embrace of my talons. But gradually, I felt my wings were not as subtle as they once were, they did not caress the currents, Skirnam no longer favoured me with grace and speed.”

Harath extended her long wings and gazed intently at them.

Kira had never expected them to be so large - much longer and broader than Harath’s own height - a huge span which nearly touched the rough sides of the cave.

“But not long ago, one of my landings was difficult and clumsy, not smooth and effortless as a queen’s should be, yes? News of this spread quickly through the aerie, and all now watch me, waiting to see if I can still fly or if I fail and humiliate myself, so that recently I have become too afraid even to try, and I have not left the nest for many days.”

Harath shook her head and folded her wings back into place.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Kira responded, “but you know it’s quite natural to grow older - my friend Aldwyn is old, but he is still a great healer.”

She pointed to his outline, resting in the slumbering shadows.

“No, it is not age that has stolen the sheen from my feathers - I have eaten the flesh of Graath, and it has transformed me more than I could know - I have become too human and not enough Akkipter, and you humans cannot fly…Perhaps that is why I find such comfort in your company, yes? And why I understand and sympathise with you so much - it is the spirit of the merchant within me, calling for his own kind.”

Harath hopped slowly from one leg to the other and ruffled her forlorn wings.

Her kind voice and actions were certainly more considerate and human than many others who did not have feathers.

Particularly some of those who wore the outward robes of a nun.

Her eyes blinked in the dull light; her head drooped.

“But I will not have to put up with the torments of the others for much longer, for when the new queen is confirmed, I shall be forced out of the aerie and abandoned to my own resources - without the warmth of the nest to sustain me against the winds, without the blessing of flight to hunt for food, death will swiftly hunt me down. Our cruel cliffs carry no waste and offer no warmth to the needy; they only provide for the strong - they are lean, and their spirits hunger for the souls of the dead. No, my fate has delivered me a lonely and cold ending - my one consolation is that I will not need to endure it for long.”

Harath scraped at the ground with her talon; her wings sagged limply by her sides.

A swirl of sympathetic fragments rushed through Kira’s thoughts.

Could it really be that a queen was so lonely, so badly treated by her own people?

Made to feel so worthless, even in her own nest?

And then, after such misery, just left to die?

Her mind prickled with anguished memories of the convent and the other girls.

Hadn’t they also teased and been cruel to her in that way?

Especially, as Harath had said, when they were in groups together?

Sometimes even Amber had not been able to drag her thoughts up from the deep, dark despond.

She was on one side of the cell bars, and Harath was on the other - but were they really so very different?

Weren’t they both alone and helpless and powerless?

“Courage!” said Kira, through the bars to her new friend.

“Courage?” Harath’s puzzled eyes blinked back.

“Yes - why let the others push you around? You said yourself they don’t even really know who you are - so why let them bully and define you like this? And aren’t you their queen? You are still a strong leader with much to give - you have gathered much wisdom and experience - you shouldn’t just let them push you around. Your talons are still powerful and sharp - find your courage and be a queen to them again.”

“But what has made you think like this?” asked Harath. “Where have you found such inspiring words?”

“I…I don’t know really - it’s what my friend Amber used to say to me when I was in the convent… in my nest, I mean, and I was bullied by the others.”

“You? You were also treated like this? Isolated and helpless?”

“Yes, I felt so alone sometimes - even my friend couldn’t cheer me up. I was clumsy - perhaps like your wings are now - nothing I did ever seemed to go right, and all my lessons went wrong - and it was all so unfair - and even if I tried to complain, the nuns, always took the other girls’ side in everything.”

“But how can this be?” asked Harath. “That one as strong as you could be intimidated by others? The great Gift of Skirnam does not lie - you have broken its power for a reason - you have shown me a new current of air to explore, one that has lifted me into the great, grey, careless skies again. And I sense it in you - I am sure that you are a strong queen, a warrior like me - even if your wings are hidden - your soul is a powerful one - I sense it in you - and I should know, for I myself am still a great queen, swift in flight and strong in claw.”

Harath pulled herself up to her full height and puffed out her chest feathers; they seemed to shine with a fresh and deeper lustre, even in the dim half-light.

Kira strained her eyes to follow Harath’s bold decisive strides as she disappeared around the corner into the darkness of the corridor.

The scratching footsteps faded into the murmuring silence of the unfeeling cave, and left her alone again, with only the dark shadows for company.

Her anxious mind tumbled and flushed with new doubts.

It was nice that she had been able to help someone - and Harath’s words were kind and well intentioned - but no-one else would ever think of her like that.

Certainly not the nuns or the other novicellae.

A powerful queen?

She was just a clumsy girl, who had brought trouble and danger to the only two people who had ever shown any kindness to her.

More likely, the drug just hadn’t been injected into her shoulders properly.

Aldwyn snored gently in the corner and twitched a restless foot in his dreams.

Even her new friends would laugh at Harath’s assessment.

And besides, what difference would it make?

Queen or no queen; powerful or not.

Tomorrow was the Observance.

Tomorrow she would die.