i am a leaf on the wind

She knew better than to head down the rabbit hole. One step and she’d fallen in, the memories pulling her deeper and deeper. She’d had to climb out of all the things she had lost. They called to her, those lost things. Thoughts of her forest, of her title, her people and her kingdom, of her family, of her brother. Always, always her brother.

She’d taken to the sky to shake the memories. The warmer winds of Birdsong brought her back to her senses, helped her mind clear and her heart slow. Below, the dizzying Flats spread out before her. The sun slipped low in the sky, the colors of dying light a kaleidoscope across the still waters. She was about to veer to a new course when a reflection caught her eye. The sunlight danced off her ruby, scattering droplets of imaginary blood on the ground.

But in the shadows, the color disappeared. Swallowed whole like it never was. The shadows creep close to her feet as she lands, stealing the color and warmth from around her. Something in the distance splashes. She spins, searching, but the waters are placid. Only a patch of shadows, hovering just above the water, gives her any sign that something is amiss. 

The shadows draw her closer, feet splashing through the water. Another step, and she's falling. Not a physical fall, of course, but her thoughts pulled through the shadows and down that rabbit hole.

"Lyanna, you aren’t trying," Corbin called, voice both playful and reprimanding. He had that skill, to make you like him even when he was yelling at you. Good quality for a future King. 

Her brother sidestepped her kick with ease.

The sun was high and blinding, the heat miserable, and she wouldn’t be out here except today was the day he left. Not forever, just for his turn with the army, but it felt like forever. They were marching out to the border that afternoon. After that, perhaps into the neighboring kingdom, depending on how negotiations went. And Lyanna, having sat in far too many meetings on the subject, had a feeling they would not go well.

Which meant Corbin was leaving for war.

His buckskin coat darkened where sweat soaked his skin. Morham wasn’t well equipped with armor, but as Prince, he wore some; a silver breastplate and two curved plates covering the cannon bones on his front legs.  His wings were much like hers, brown fading to white to teal. His eyes mirrored her own, though his look were fierce and stern where hers were kind and sad. 

"My heart isn’t exactly in it," she mumbled, feet slamming down into the ground as she fell out of her rear. Yes, she can land softer. No, she doesn’t want to. Yes, she’s throwing a tantrum. She still has her parents, her sister, and her whole stupid court. But Corbin was the one that paid any mind to her. Corbin was the one that trained her, walked with her, laughed with her. She did not want to lose her brother.

"Again," he says. There’s no pity in his voice, no coddling. She sighs, throwing herself into a canter. She shifts her weight back into her hindquarters and lifts her front into a rear. Her black legs aim toward his neck. He ducks, but she’s angry now (They cannot take him. They cannot cannot cannot.), and her kick is quick and fierce. At the same time, a gust of winds blows from his right, forcing his head back into the line of her feet. Another gust towards his eyes force them closed, taking away his sight. He ducks again, but it’s too late. Her feet find their target, though not hard. Can’t send the Prince off to war already injured, after all.

She unfurls her wings, a breeze slowing her descent. When her feet touch the ground, she pulls her teal wings back to her side before looking at her brother. There’s a wild pride in his eyes, and it makes her beam. Because she is powerful, as he is powerful.

He grins, flames racing across the ground from his feet. The wind billows around them, a literal fan for the flames. "I should come with you," she says. They are not that much different in age. In a year, it will be her turn to go anyway. So why not now? They are stronger together than they are apart. 

"Because that’s not how this works, Lyanna. And you are not Adelene, so please stop acting like her."

Lyanna let the wind die. The flames quiet, though his powers keep them burning in small, writhing snakes in the grass. After a moment, the fires fade, leaving only scorched earth in their wake. His look says more than his words, as it almost always does. Her place is here. The Prince of Almora is here, and of course, he is here for Lyanna. Perhaps, if all works out well, Lyanna can win her kingdom an ally in the impending war. 

Lyanna may hate fighting, but she’d rather be a warrior than a pawn. But if being a pawn could help save her brother’s life...

A trumpet sounds in the distance. Both siblings instinctively turn their head in that direction. One trumpet means the army is leaving. Two means they are coming home. Three means all hell broke loose. But they both know there will be only one trumpet call this afternoon. 

"Give them hell, little sis," he says, reaching out to tap her muzzle once with his. Every inch of her screams to wrap him in a hug, to kick and scream and cry and never let go. But she doesn't. It wouldn’t work. She’d only be ruining their last moment together. Instead, she taps him back. "You too, brother."

She comes back to Helovia with the image of him before her still, walking away. His ghost seems to disappear into the place where the shadows converge. Only now, the shadows feel right, the way the world should be without Corbin. She wonders if the shadows will swallow her the way they did the light. In truth, she almost welcomes the idea.

Almost. But first, she promised Corbin she’d give them hell.

watch how i soar.

lyanna