Dark Wings - Chapter Two

Reaching her house, she threw the door open none-too-gently and slammed it closed behind her, leaning on it and sinking to the floor.

Wrapping her arms around her bent knees, Keira pressed her eyes against them, trying to calm herself and get her breathing to steady.

I don't know what's wrong with me. He touches me and I flee like a frightened rabbit. I used to pride myself on being strong, on not letting anyone or anything get to me, but I guess I'm not as strong as I perceived myself to be. I'm falling apart, and it scares me.

"Keira? Keira, what's wrong?" Her fathers worried voice startled her greatly, and she jumped and jerked her head up.

Their eyes met, and whatever he saw in hers propelled him to kneel before her and wrap her in a tight embrace. She remained still, gazing blankly over his shoulder at nothing in particular.

"What happened? What's wrong?" his voice was soft, gentle, and she felt questions she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answers to build up inside, needing to be heard.

"What really happened to mom?" Peiton instantly tensed. She waited patiently but still recieved no response.

"Is it true that she died of 'natural causes'?"

The brunette heard him take in a deep breath and release it rather shakily. Her face hardened.

"Tell me."

Turning his head away from her, he began hesitantly, "Well, it's...partially true..."

Keira pulled away from him, angry. Her voice was low, tight. "Then how."

Peiton sighed brokenly. "Let's sit on the sofa."

"No. Tell me right now. You're not getting out of this."

She saw his jaw set and eyes narrow before he sat with a grunt on the floor in front of her. He rested one elbow on his propped knee and dropped his forehead to his hand, chin-length brown locks obscuring his face.

"Your mother, she..."

A pause, and he gripped his hair.

"Jayci died shortly after giving birth to you."

All the blood rushed from Keira's face. She felt her eyes go impossibly wide and her mouth become slack. A loud rushing built in her ears, drowning everything out. She wasn't prepared for an answer like that. Not at all.

He continued, feeling the need to say more, "Her body wasn't fit for childbirth. I'm sure she realized it, but she never told me. This necklace," he paused to run a finger tenderly along the silver wings hanging from around his daughter's neck, "It protected her during her pregnancy, protected you, but it couldn't save her in the end."

As the tears built, so did her anger. "Why did you lie to me? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Keira, it's not like that-"

"Were you just gonna keep it from me forever? Let me believe a lie all my life?"

"Stop-"

"Well?!"

His eyes burned hard into Keira's, throwing her off, shining with unshed tears. "Do you really think it's easy for me to tell you this? I don't want to hurt you, Keira. I know how you work. You'll blame yourself when it's not your fault at all, and you'll torture yourself over it. I don't want that. I never want you to blame yourself, and neither did your mother."

Staring at her hands, she replied hollowly, "It's not my fault."

He let out a relieved breath. She didn't let his relief become too great. "It just confirms everyones claim of me being a monster."

Stunned silence, then, "Keira, no-"

She interrupted, "Why am I a monster, dad? I know I was born with black wings, but why does that make me evil? Why do people loathe me? Why," her voice cracked, trying to hold back tears, "Why did they cut my wings off?"

The anguish that filled her fathers eyes was too much and she had to look away. It must be hard for him to have me as a child. Me, the wicked one, evil, an abomination. I wonder what people say of him. That thought twisted her gut in remorse.

A hand tugged at Keira's arm and pulled her to her feet. All her energy spent, she sagged against her father's strong chest. A sky blue wing wrapped around her.

"Come. I'll help you to your room."

She tried to resist, not wanting him to leave her in her bed and walk away before she could glean answers from him, but her body wouldn't listen to her commands, and she went completely limp in his hold.

The next thing she felt was weightlessness and arms underneath her when her father picked her up and carried her up into her bedroom, laying her gently on her bed.

She grabbed his wrist before he could move away, her eyes pleading with his. "Please. I need to know. You can't keep it from me forever."

Peiton smiled, but it was thin and didn't reach his eyes. Sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed, he began to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

"What-"

"Just tell me everything. Don't leave anything out."

"You don't know what you ask for."

"I've lived long enough in the dark. I want to know."

He hesitated.

"Please," she pleaded, again begging him with her eyes.

When he ran his hand through his hair and sighed, she knew he had given in. "Alright."

After a long pause, he began, "Two hundred year ago, a black winged Kakarian was born. Those born with black wings possess great, unimaginable powers. Back then, they had no knowledge of that. That Kakarian, his name long forgotten, lived peacefully with our kind."

He questioned Keira, "Have you ever heard of a sorceress?"

Astounded already by the little information he gave her, she managed, "N-no."

"Sorceresses and sorcerers are beings who weild unrivaled magical powers. In some way they are connected to black winged Kakarians, for only a black winged ones powers can complete their power.

"A sorceress, Izel, came into being. She was corrupt and power-hungry. She found him through their connection, persuaded his weak mind and drained his powers."

Frantically, Keira interjected, "She's gone, right?"

"Just listen."

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Izel then set about destroying the Kakarian race, for Kakarians can also preform magic, and she wanted none to hinder her. Also, she didn't want to risk another dark one being born because they possess even greater power.

"Unbeknownst to Izel, a few survived, many of whom are in our Council. They fled and began to rebuild where we live now, on the Iba peninsula.

"Izel ruled mercilessly for many long years. It was a time of great darkness, now called The Shadow. A human by the name of Davion came upon a relic that could seal Izel away.

"He led her to an enchanted cave with the instruction from a wise seer and, with the relic, froze her in a tomb of crystalline ice, sealing her power and expelling the power of the black winged Kakarian.

"Ever since then, it has been law that any child born with black wings must have them cut off, rendering their power useless. Our relations with the humans have been very shaky."

He ended his story and turned to look at Keira, but she hardly noticed. Her head was spinning from his words, thoughts running uncontained and unbidden. I am evil. They're right. They have good reason to be weary of me, to hate me, to be scared of me. I'm even scared of me. I don't belong here. I never have.

"So the sorceress is sealed away." The statement was more of a reassurance for herself.

"Unless something has changed without us knowing, then yes," Peiton confirmed softly.

The brunette nodded absently, sifting through everything in her mind. Why did it have to be me?

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Her voice sounded tired. It mirrored the rest of her.

Pursing his lips, Peiton took his daughter's hand and played with her fingers. "I guess I was just waiting for the right time, when I felt you could best handle it. I feel my revealing things to you is...premature."

She ignored his last statement and stared distantly at their hands, mumbling, "I never asked before. Never really questioned anything, just accepted it."

The glow from the lamp on Keira's nightstand highlighted her fathers angular features and amplified the sadness carved into the lines of his face. His wings drooped dolefully. "Why did you ask? What made you question it now?"

"I traveled to the south. I came upon a faerie pond I haven't seen before."

"Ah, so that's where you were. Well, what happened?"

"I was awarded this stone," she said evasively.

Picking the stone off her chest, she let her father examine it. He said in a near whisper, "It's beautiful. I've never seen such a stone." He redirected his gaze to her eyes. "But you're still avoiding my question."

"The faerie spoke of evil and my fate."

"I see. What did she say?"

Keira closed her eyes briefly before responding, "She said something about there being no dominant evil in me and to use this magic wisely, though she didn't tell me what magic it is. Then she said it won't fail me when everything else does."

The look on her fathers face was frustratingly unreadable. "Say, how about I make you some hot cocoa. You've had a long night."

If only you knew. "No, dad, it's fine. I'm fine," she lied, forcing a smile.

"Are you sure? It wouldn't take long."

"Yeah dad, don't worry about it. I'm just going to go to sleep, alright?"

Peiton gave his daughter a level stare. "Alright. Good night." Placing a kiss on Keira's forehead, he went to stand but stopped and sat back down again, turning to her.

"Are you sure you're okay? You're acting like you're not disturbed by what I've told you. Do you want to talk more?"

Inwardly, she smiled at his concern, but she needed to be alone with her thoughts. "Maybe later. It is alot to swallow, but I'm so exhausted right now I can't even begin to think on it."

He looked away suddenly, afraid and tentative. "Are you...are you angry with me?"

She was confused as to why he would ask that for a moment before realization dawned. "No. I was mad, but I think I understand. It's a large burden to carry, and it's understandable why you waited so long to tell me. I'm not angry, just...startled. And a little scared."

The relief resonating from his eyes floored Keira, and she was struck by the realization of just how much her love and trust meant to him.

She glanced away from that look, busying herself with shifting pillows and pulling her covers down, mind on the verge of breakdown.

"Dad, I'm okay. Don't worry. I just need to get to sleep." Keira felt her father's eyes on her and then his hand squeezed hers, reassuring. She squeezed back.

"Good night, dad." Sliding under the covers, she pulled them up to her neck and turned to face away from him. He lingered for a few moments before she felt his weight shift off of the bed and heard footsteps pad away and stop at the door.

"Good night. I love you," came the bare whisper, only heard because of her sensitive hearing. Footsteps sounded once more as he walked away.

When she felt certain he was gone, she threw the covers off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The brunette got up and closed the door then moved silently to her window. She opened them wide and straddled the windowsill, resting her back on the frame with one leg dangling down and the other propped up.

Her mind was in a whirlwind, spinning wildly out of control. It was all too much, the faerie, her new stone, Chale, her mother's true death, learning of the history behind her wings. Myriad feelings ran through her, blending and mingling until she couldn't decipher between them. Soon her mind became blissfully blank from the overload, and she was left gazing vacantly at the endless night sky, a slight breeze flowing over her gently, calming. Lights were flickering off in the small, wooden houses of the town, people finally settling in for the night.

A slight pressure built behind Keira's eyes, and she groaned at the oncoming headache. I don't need this right now. Pain suddenly exploded through her head, almost toppling her over and out of the window. She cried out softly, clutching at her head. The pain and pressure was excrutiating. Keira clenched her eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners. Losing all control of her body, she crumbled to the floor of her bedroom.

Through the thick haze of pain, an image flickered to life in her mind. A woman with a pale face. Her features were blurry and distorted, but Keira could tell her eyes were closed.

Eyes suddenly snapped open and pierced straight through her, disturbingly clear against the blur of her face. The brunette struggled to breathe, finding the task near impossible. The woman's eyes were eerie, haunting, shaking Keira to the core: black pupils set in a sea of pure white.

The image faded and Keira drew in a great, gasping breath, air rushing into deprived lungs. Struggling to her hands and knees, she managed to drag herself to and onto her bed, head still throbbing in the aftermath of such agony.

With the fleeting thought that she was grateful of the direction her body chose to fall, she was drawn under into welcome nothingness.