Winged (Aetharian Narratives)

by Sofia Vargas

  “So, let’s go back to the whole military thing,” I said. “If you guys don’t like what they have planned why did you agree to take part in all of this?”

  “I’m obligated,” said Professor Elias. “I’m one of the royal tutors, so you, as a part of the royal family, must be taught by me.”

  “But I’m not. Don’t you need Butterfly wings to be considered royalty?”

  “Technically, you’re right,” he said. “But you are still the daughter of the king. Although, you are not a future queen, your bloodline is still that of royalty and will be until another bloodline takes its place.”

  I looked at Ms. Riley. “Are you obligated, too?”

  “I have no obligation to this process,” she said. “I could merely sit back and wait for you to be ready to take my place. But I didn’t wish to do that. As we said, when we heard what they were planning for you we decided to step in and do something. I am of the generations who have believed that the Dragonfly is supposed to take military action. Although, I no longer believe it myself I was made to do so when it was my time. While I did what I had to, it didn’t feel right. I knew something was wrong.”

  “Celeste and I have been researching Dragonflies over the past years,” said Professor Elias. “It was always a passion of mine to study legends and myths so she came to me and asked why the so called Enlightened One felt like she did not do the right thing. That is why she started to study Dragonfly folklore with me.”

  “One group of stories struck me,” Ms. Riley said. “In the Main Aetherian Library there are published accounts of stories told about Dragonflies spanning an unimaginable amount of years. These particular stories focused on the Dragonflies’ wingspan in particular. Do you remember how long I told you your wings were?”

  “You said they were six feet, right?” I said.

  “Yes,” she said. “Six feet is not bad for a beginner. My record wing span is ten feet.”

  “Wow,” I said, impressed.

  Ms. Riley smiled. “According to everything we read ten feet would be laughable to the ancient Dragonflies.”

  “Oh,” I said. “How big did they used to be?”

  “We have readings that center around the enormity of a Dragonfly’s wings,” said Professor Elias. “They don’t give exact measurements, but they talk of the shadow they cast over the land when the Dragonfly was in flight. They say that the Dragonfly can lift up the nation on his or her wings. Now we know that a lot of the writing is most likely hyperbolized as most stories of old are, but to spur the descriptions that these ancient wings did, they still must have been an impressive sight to see.”

  “I doubt my wings are anywhere near impressive,” I mumbled. “My six footers would probably send the ancient Dragonflies into fits of hysteria.”

  “But your six footers were your second attempt,” said Ms. Riley, pulling something out of her pocket. “Your first attempt seems to have been much more impressive.”

  She held up the scale from the first wings I had summoned while sleeping.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Professor Elias said, grabbing hold of the scale. “This is from your first set? What is all this talk about six-foot wings? This did not come from six-foot wings.”

  “The wings that this came from were summoned while I was dreaming,” I said.

  “Unconscious summoning,” Ms. Riley said.

  “This is not too short of your record, Celeste,” he said. “They had to have been close to eight feet long.”

  “Yes,” she said with a nod. “And…?”

  Professor Elias’ eyes widened as he looked at the scale again. “They’re … green,” he said.

  They both slowly turned to look at me.

  “What?”

  “Although there have not been very many Dragonflies through our years of existence, there is no documentation of one of them having green wings,” Professor Elias said. He put the scale in the middle of my desk. “Quite a few colors have already repeated but never have they documented green wings.”

  “Okay, so what does that mean?” I said again. “What does green mean?”

  “That’s something I’m sure you have learned in your literature classes,” Ms. Riley said.

  “The first thing most people associate green with is envy because that is the most widely known translation,” Professor Elias said. “However in literature, religion, myth, etcetera, green is more commonly connected with spring.”

  I looked at him. I still didn’t understand. “English is not one of my best subjects.”

  He smiled. “It represents rebirth, you see? Renewal, regeneration … change.”

  “Change,” I said. “Change in what exactly?”

  “I think it means a change is finally coming in our way of thinking,” said Ms. Riley.

  “The thinking that Dragonflies have a military status in your, um, I mean our society?” I said.

  Professor Elias nodded. “Exactly.”

  * * *

  “Okay, so what are you guys thinking we do about it?” I said. “What’s the plan? Are we going to storm the military and tell them they’re wrong? Are we going to appeal to the king? What are we going to do to stop military involvement?”

  “We really can’t do any of those things you just suggested,” said Ms. Riley. “No one will listen. War is the only answer for these people.”

  “Why? Why war? What’s it going to accomplish that tea and compromise can’t?”

  “Well, in a perfect world compromise would always be the answer. But compromise would mean each side would only get part of what they want,” said Professor Elias.

  “So?” I said.

  “So, if a war is fought the losing side would get nothing while the winning side gets everything.”

  “What if we lose?” I said.

  Professor Elias smiled. “That always seems to be a chance worth taking.”

  “Okay, so what do we do?” I said, whirling my finger between the three of us.

  “We,” Ms. Riley said, flipping her finger between her and Professor Elias, “help you and you in turn help everyone else.”

  “Just me?” I said. “All by myself? You want me to take on everyone else?”

  “That’s really all we can do,” said Professor Elias. “The two of us can’t do any more for this world. It’s you and everyone else in your generation that must start taking over now.”

  “But I can’t do all of this on my own,” I said. “I need help. If everything you two just said is true, no one will listen to me. If they think they’re doing the right thing, why would they?”

  “We have to hope that they can change,” said Ms. Riley. “People can change. They need the right trigger. When change is truly out of the question and absolutely impossible, that is when there isn’t hope for anyone.”

  “Those that can’t change will take those that can down with them,” said Professor Elias. “We can’t think that change will never occur because then we will all be undoubtedly doomed. And that is one thing I refuse to believe and allow to take place.”

  I lowered my eyes to the floor. “This place really isn’t different at all, is it?”

  “We are all people,” Professor Elias said. “And we are all flawed.”

  “Great,” I said. “Okay, so exactly why are the North and South fighting right now?”

  “There is something you have to understand before we get into that,” he said. “There are quite a few things that make your world and our world very much the same. People are born with certain aptitudes, and most likely that is the path they will follow in life. If they have a political mind they will go into politics. If they like to protect and help people they will go into law enforcement. If they find it easy to understand and read people they might go into psychology and so forth. Even though the abilities the people of your world have are not as blatant as the abilities the people of this world, they are still there and they will most likely want to pursue a life in that field.”

  “Right,” I said
. “I understand that.”

  “Well, because a person’s talent is so obvious in this world it is pretty much set in stone how their life will be lived. Your ability is what you will do and who you will be in life, without question.”

  “Wait, hold it,” I said, putting my hands up. “That’s not true. Let’s say a person can move things with their mind. I haven’t been here long, but I have seen that ability used in a lot of different ways. People are cooking with it, they are moving heavy boxes for people that can’t, they are even playing instruments and becoming a one-person band. All those different jobs and lives aren’t the same road.”

  “But they are, Emma,” Ms. Riley said. “All those jobs branch off the working class road. A person with telekinesis will never be able to become king, or a law enforcer, or a general in the army. They will be stuck working with all the other common people. The best they can hope for is to try out for the Infiltration Squad if they hope to get into the military. At the most only five or so will actually be accepted for that position.”

  “So everyone’s lives are pretty much planned out for them from birth.”

  Professor Elias nodded. “And that is exactly what started this war. An Elementist has surfaced in South Aetheria. The North Aetherian government has put in a summons for her to report to Elementist training facilities to start preparing for the rest of her life.”

  “Hold on, Elementist?” I said, starting to feel a bit overwhelmed. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a rare ability,” Ms. Riley said. “An Elementist can control, create, and even, with enough training mind you, become a part of the element they are linked to.”

  “Are these ‘elements’ the same four elements I know?” I said. “Fire, water, earth, and wind?”

  “Yes,” said Professor Elias.

  The feeling of being overwhelmed lifted slightly.

  “But…” he continued, “that is only half of them. We have eight elements here.”

  “Eight? You guys have eight elements?”

  The feeling came roaring back.

  “Yes,” he said. “Fire, water, earth, and wind are still elements but we also consider metal, body, mind, and space to be the last four. The girl in question is a Fire Elementist. She is the first Aetherian from the South to have such a high priority ability.”

  “Are you telling me that all South Aetherians are normally born with common abilities?” I said. “That’s kind of racist, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not like we’re the ones controlling who gets what ability,” said Ms. Riley. “That is something out of our power.”

  “Plus it’s not really thought to be racism considering we’re all the same race,” said Professor Elias. “I mean, the only difference between Northerners and Southerners evolved over time. The dark skin developed to protect them from the vast amount of sun they receive in the South. We don’t really have that problem up here.”

  “Okay, fine… well, it’s still colorist or something,” I said. “All right, so what’s the big deal about a Southern Elementist being born?”

  “She’s the first one!” Ms. Riley yelled into my ear.

  “Yeah, I got that,” I said, rubbing my ear and glaring at her. “So? Congratulate her. Shake her hand. Put her in the World Book of Records. I still don’t understand why everyone is so wound up about it.”

  “Miss Larnex, think about it,” Professor Elias said. “Imagine if you were a part of a society that was given only common work all its generations while another part of that society got privileges that yours never did.

  “How would you feel if someone just like you was finally granted one of those abilities that people like you have always been denied?”

  “I’d—” I thought about it for a second. “I’d be proud.”

  “Yes, you probably would,” he said. “Now, what if you were a member of the family or a friend of that girl, who is ten years old by the way, and you found out her parents were sent a government notice saying they must bring her to another part of the country where she must live the remainder of her life.”

  I shook my head. “I couldn’t imagine.”

  “Well, that is the situation we are in right now,” he said. “There are no more than two Elementists of the same element in existence at one time and they are trained to be a part of a special defense team by the military. That is the life laid out before everyone born with that rare ability. The family doesn’t want to part with their little girl nor leave the life they have worked so hard at building for themselves in the South. The South knows how exceedingly important she is to the government but also sees her as exceedingly important to them so they too do not want to let her go. This is what has started the war.”

  “So the North is going to invade and forcibly take her away?” I said. “That’s the plan they have set up here? Kidnapping a child?”

  “That was the plan they had,” he said. “That plan has actually already been executed. And failed.”

  “Wait,” I said. “How can the military fail against a part of its own country that doesn’t have its own military?”

  “That’s just the thing. We thought that without the help of our military they’d have nothing,” Ms. Riley said. “But the mission failed because that is, in fact, not true.”

  “The South has developed their own military?” I said, trying very hard to keep the glee out of my voice. “Without the consent of the Northern government? And they beat the real military?”

  Professor Elias smiled and nodded. “With ‘common people’ no less.”

  “So,” I said, “I’m thinking it’s safe to assume that this was not good news to the military.”

  “The military took quite a blow from the defeat,” he said. “It was not taken lightheartedly.”

  “Is that why everyone’s so high strung right now?”

  “Yes,” Professor Elias said. “The government had no idea the South had formed its own military. They panicked and now aren’t sure what else they might have developed on their own. So they moved everyone out of the castle and put them in the outside military base where they figured they’d be safer until they get a feel for everything the South has planned.”

  “In my opinion the South doesn’t have anything planned,” said Ms. Riley. “They probably formed their military as a precaution thinking that one day they might need it.”

  Professor Elias looked out the window. “We should start wrapping up for today. It’s getting late and Dresden will be arriving soon to take Emma back to camp.”

  “Yes,” Ms. Riley said. “We can’t have him overhearing too much.”

  “Celeste, why don’t you take her on a quick tour of the castle until he comes back,” Professor Elias said.

  “Yes,” she said. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  * * *

  “So this is where I’d be living if I had grown up here,” I said, gazing around the stone walls of the entrance hall. “If I wasn’t, you know, forced to lead a normal life in another universe and all.”

  Ms. Riley smiled. “Yes. Bittersweet, isn’t it?”

  “Extremely,” I said.

  I walked over to the closest wall and put my hand on a stone that looked different from the others surrounding it.

  “Why are some of the stones different?”

  “Does it look familiar?” she said. “It’s Star Stone.”

  I looked at her.

  “The stone on your necklace.”

  “Oh,” I said, pulling my necklace out from under my shirt.

  I held it up to the stone in front of me. The stone in the wall was a much more brilliant blue. The stone on my necklace looked so pale in comparison.

  “It doesn’t look the same.”

  “I imagine yours is dying,” she said, walking toward the staircase on the other side of the room.

  I followed her while still examining my stone. “It’s dying?” I said, concerned. “Why? What did I do to it?”

  “You didn’t do anything,” she sa
id. “Such a small piece of the stone simply cannot survive on its own. Star Stone is communal and needs to be kept in large chunks in order to keep its brilliance.”

  “Oh,” I said again. “It’s still a little sad.”

  “Don’t be too sad,” Ms. Riley said, now walking up the stairs. She kept a hand on the intricately carved wooden rail running up the side. “It’s still alive and doing pretty well for having been on its own so long.” She looked over at me. “Probably because of you.”

  I smiled and tucked the necklace back under my shirt.

  “Being back in this world probably isn’t hurting it, either.”

  We walked along the long hallways taking in the empty castle. There were large unoccupied bedrooms and big vases that once had held beautiful flowers I probably had never seen before. Ms. Riley’s voice echoed while she pointed out tapestries and paintings, and facts and stories. I frowned at the dust covered drapes and unmopped floors, trying to imagine the fancy parties and balls Ms. Riley told me about. I looked out the windows over the unkempt lawns and tried to see the tournaments and polo matches played on them. Without the people, dresses, or laughing the building was almost eerie.

  I stopped when an archway caught my eye. I ran a hand over it and tried to remember why I was struck with such a sense of déjà vu.

  “It’s funny that you stopped at this room,” Ms. Riley said. “It would have been yours if you had lived in the castle.”

  “This is my room?”

  There were vines with flowers carved into the wood. I ran my finger over a butterfly perched on a bud. “It looks … familiar.”

  “Does it?” she said, watching me.

  I opened the door and looked inside. There was a huge, wooden, canopy bed draped in fabric. Very little other furniture was present: a dressing table, a couple of chairs, and an armoire, all covered in fabric to protect them from dust. I looked from the bed to the arch I was standing under and it hit me. I whipped my head out of the room and looked down the hall toward the balcony and stairs.