The Bird and The Wolf

by Raven Flanagan

  The Bird and The Wolf

  Raven Flanagan

  Copyright © 2020 Raven Flanagan

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: David Collins

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  This book is dedicated to all of my amazing friends and family who helped me and believed in me as I worked to bring this story to life. Without all of you this wouldn't have been possible

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  There was a brisk wind that was coming in fast. It whistled through the tree branches and carried away brown leaves no longer able to hold on as the green made its return. A few birds were chirping near a lone figure seated on a low arm of the tree. White hair shimmied loose from a braid due to the ministrations of the season’s breeze. Soundlessly, Freya pulled an arrow from the quiver at her back and notched it, sure she would strike true in a moment’s notice.

  A few more seconds and the plump rabbit would be within easy reach of the arrows sharp point. The simple creature was nibbling on choice grass in a small patch of forest floor not yet littered with spring’s new growth. The rabbit ducked its head under a clump of grass to get to the greener bits, white standing out amongst the dead leaves and foliage.

  Right before the arrow could stick into its intended target the hare flinched and bounced from its buffet of greens. The arrow struck damp earth and the would-be prey flitted away.

  Freya jumped from one branch to the next to follow her target. She made quick work of leaping to a tree further away. Palms gripped the bark and toned arms quietly lifted her body to a safe perch. Another whirlwind sent more leaves in a flurry to the ground below. She swiftly descended the next tree halfway down until her prey was once more in sight. Despite the cool gust, a line of perspiration was beginning to form on her brow. Again, she drew back the bowstring in preparation to fire.

  Her enhanced vision narrowed in on her target when suddenly raucous laughter from above the heights of the gargantuan treetops disturbed the rabbit a second time. This time the critter got away for good and the hunter’s gaze peered through the treetops.

  A group of soldiers were flying overhead. Only five of them to the current flock, but enough of a racket to scare away any prey within the near forest vicinity.

  Red rushed up Freya’s cheeks and the feathers on her neck rose up as she glared after the soldiers flying towards the colony. A rabbit wasn’t a huge loss, but it would have made a nice addition to mother’s vegetable stew.

  Freya dismounted the tree in a flurry of leaps and bounds. She had to find her lost arrow from her first attempt at catching the lost rabbit. Her boots padded over the leaves and vegetation on the forest floor as she traced her direction back.

  There was still plenty of time to get home before dark. Even if it was a poor day of hunting Freya enjoyed her time alone. You’re not as much of an outcast if you’re by yourself. The silence of nature was calming Freya as she dashed through the forest underbrush. The breeze of the incoming spring weather seemed to race her home as the afternoon chill began to set in.

  The foliage of the gargantuan treetops left only a haze of light as she neared home. As Freya got closer, she could begin to make out the sounds of Adaryn families settling for a cozy afternoon in their homes above. When Freya looked up, she mustered a small smile for the lovely homes constructed into the top branches of the largest sequoias. A few homes had wooden bridges connecting them to one another, although most Adaryn’s would prefer to fly from one place to the next.

  Freya saw an Adaryn soldier returning to his home landing on the stoop wrapping entirely around the tree’s girth to enter his home. Massive tawny wings came to rest against his back as soon as he was sure of foot on the wooden planks.

  Above, other soldiers began to fly in through the forest canopy and locate their own abodes to roost for the night. Freya couldn’t help but enviously admire the myriad of colored wings soaring into the tree homes on the outskirts of the Adaryn community. The ease with which they maneuvered the arms of the trees was impressive and a sigh escaped Freya. Not for the first time, she thought of what she was missing out on.

  She adjusted the strap of the quiver against her bare back. She was an Adaryn without wings. Very rare. Most born like her didn’t live long after being born, and that was on purpose. Freya was the only living Adaryn who couldn’t fly, and every day she was reminded of how different she was.

  A flash of white and red overhead distracted Freya from her melancholy. Excitement replaced the feelings of inadequacy as she heard the boots of a soldier land on the balcony of her home. Freya grabbed the knotted rope at the base of the tree and begin to climb up with ease. She might not have the ease of using her own wings, but by now she was a master of the ground and scaling the heights of the nearly impossible to climb trees her people made their homes in. The harder the climb the safer from their enemies. Freya’s home was the only one with a ladder.

  Freya reached the stoop and pulled herself onto the sturdy planks and before rushing for the door. The familiar scents of home reached her nose as she swung the door open to see her sister standing in the sitting room with their mother and father trying to stop her from devouring all the fresh bread still steaming.

  “Raga you put that down! The bread is for dinner!” The mother bickered.

  Raga, ignoring their mother, whipped around as she heard her younger sister enter. The tall and proud Valkyrie warrior was returning from her stint patrolling the borders. Her near white hair and wings had been freshly dyed red at the tips, as all Valkyrie did to stand apart from the other Adaryn soldiers. Bright blue eyes flashed in a smile as she leapt at Freya’s small frame. Raga swooped past the girl’s parents who were trying to bicker over the bread and engulfed her younger sister in a tight hug.

  “Just in time to eat, sister! I flew home as soon as they dismissed us for the next rotation to take up their post. Knowing Mother’s stew would be ready and waiting for me, well, us of course I’ll share. A warrior’s appetite is never satiated if you ask the Captain.” Raga smiled down at the much shorter Freya before turning back to look at their parents.

  Mother’s blue eyes reflected the light in Raga’s and Freya’s as she beamed in delight having her two nestlings’ home and her family all together. Freya could see the pride in their father’s eyes as he looked at the magnificence that was his firstborn. The great beauty and warrior Raga who brought great honor to the family as one of the few Adaryn to join the elite squad of soldiers that made up the Valkyrie.

  Freya looked away from her family and in the direction of the steaming stew to hide her shame of being ins
ufficient. She didn’t want the joy she felt at seeing her sister to be ruined by something she couldn’t change.

  “Please, Raga, sit and tell us about what’s been going on at the border. The other ladies at the market say-” Mother began but Raga’s laugh cut her off.

  “Are you worrying about me again? You think a few cur sightings at the border bother me? Not at all. I’d like to see one of those mongrels even try to enter Adaryn lands. The Valkyrie would make easy work of those wild beasts,” The older sister stated clutching her fist and raising it as though she was ready for a fight at any moment. Raga’s confidence was effective at calming Mother, but Father still had a glimmer of doubt in his eyes.

  “Don’t listen to the clucking of hens at the market, Mother.” Raga affirmed.

  “She’s right, Gwylan. You know how the other mothers constantly worry after the children they have on patrol, yourself included,” Father was telling her. “Raga has been doing marvelous with the Valkyrie for several seasons, like we knew she would. There’s no need to worry about a few sightings at the borders. If the beasts get any closer to the crops the Council and Royal family won’t hesitate to send reinforcements. Nothing like the sight of wings to send their tails tucked and running.”

  Father had a gleam in his eye like he usually did when remembering his own time wearing the armor of his people. He had served for many seasons, until Freya was born and the attention, she had needed called him home permanently.

  “I’m glad you’re home, Raga. Although, if you snore, I’ll serve you up to the mutts in the mountains myself.” Freya chirped up at her sister with a devious smile.

  “I don’t doubt you would, Freya! The fiercest of us all and my inspiration every day.” Raga wrapped an armored arm around her much smaller sister’s shoulders and steered them both in the direction of the delicious smells of supper where vegetable stew was wafting the smell of herbs into the air.

  “Wait, Raga, let me serve you!” Mother started towards the cupboards for bowls, before stopping in her tracks. “Both of you!” her finger pointed at her daughters, “You both smell of the woods and sweat. I don’t want your day’s filth stinking up our first meal together in a moon’s cycle.” She followed up by waving her hands to shoo the girls away from the kitchen.

  After a stern nod from their Father and a smirk shared between Freya and Raga, they quickly set off up the curved stairway in the center of their home that was built into the gargantuan tree.

  “Freya help me with my armor and I’ll re-braid your hair.” Raga told Freya as they got to their shared room at the top of the stairs. Raga started to take off her greaves and then the belt her weapons were attached to. Freya went to help undo the armor patch fastened between Raga’s wings, taking her time to admire the smooth feathers.

  “How long will you be home before they send you out again?” Freya asked her sister after getting a washcloth for Raga to wipe the grime off her skin.

  Raga let out a deep and tired sigh. She didn’t respond as she placed her armor and weapons in the chest at the foot of her bed. Raga’s shoulders slumped, and her wings dropped low. She placed a hand on her forehead and after another sigh Raga pushed her short white and red tipped hair back out of her face.

  “Too soon. Come here,” Raga gestured for Freya to sit on the stool on front of the wash basin. Freya sat down and Raga got to work on brushing out and neatly braiding Freya’s long platinum locks. “The rumors Mother has been hearing are true. Vargar are coming in too close. And there are more and more of them coming.

  "I didn't want to tell Mother and Father just yet, but I won't be here for long. The Council has decided to send a large force to guard the boarders as a show of strength. They don't want to make the first move, hoping that a threatening enough force will lead to the mutts backing off. Yet, they want enough soldiers there just in case anything goes in a more brutal direction." Raga looked stricken as she saw the morose look in Freya's eyes.

  "Freya, don't worry. I've trained for seasons to fight the mongrels, and this isn't even a call to arms for war. Just extra precautions at the boarders."

  "Sister, I have faith in you. I just don't want to be alone again."

  Raga pulled Freya into a hug to comfort her and quietly stated "You are never alone, Freya. Mother and Father love you and just worry about you. There is no other Adaryn like you. That makes you unique, and your physical strength and climbing prowess is nothing to mock. You are truly incredible, and I want you to know how strong you are, to see yourself like we do." Raga made sure Freya's hair was secure in the long braid down her back.

  "Your strength to always keep going is what motivates me during my long hours training and guarding with the Valkyrie. I regal them with stories of the mighty Freya and how nothing would keep her down. When everyone else was learning to fly you learned to climb and reached for the sky all the same. Don't feel alone with our parents, you should be showing them the strength I see."

  Freya let out a breath hearing her sister speak. Raga always knew what to say to make her feel better. Yet, the threat of their enemies getting closer was still looming over their heads. Despite her sister easing the isolation she felt there was no doubting the bad feeling settling in her gut like a heavy stone.

  "Thank you, Raga. I always miss talking to you when you're gone. I'll admit I'm heavily disappointed you're leaving sooner this time. How soon exactly?"

  "The day after next. I must return to the Valkyrie Nest by midday and strategize our defenses. Just let me be the one to tell Mother," Raga nearly pleaded as if Freya was one to gossip. She placed a hand over her mouth and raised her eyebrows at Raga to signal her lips were sealed. After a nod and a few seconds of silence Raga stood and took Freya's arm to head down the stairs to the tempting smells of dinner assaulting their noses.

  Freya tried not to grip onto her sister’s arm as they descended, as if to keep her sister from disappearing. Her one true friend in this world and she was going to be departing far too soon. At least Raga would have the company of her fellow Valkyrie when she left. Her sister would have the convocation of the soldiers sleeping out under the stars together and keeping watch over the border.

  Yet, this wouldn’t be the same as the other deployments Raga had been sent on Freya thought. This one seemed to have more threat behind it just by the way Raga had talked about it, and the way they were being rushed back out.

  It wasn’t unusual for Vargar to be spotted testing their limits at the borders. Every so often they would even manage to steal a few bundles from the Adaryn crops under the cover of night. The savage people that the Adaryn had warred against for hundreds of years had been relatively out of sight for most of Freya’s life. She only knew of a few smaller skirmishes to have taken place. One of them was after she was born, and one of the reasons her father left his station. The first reason being to help her mother with their too small and frail nestling.

  Freya wondered at why the Vargar could be pushing their limits at the border now. Winter would be here in a few moons and she couldn’t imagine either side having the energy to fight in the cold. However, the Vargar lived deep in the snowy mountains. They’re probably much better suited to it than the Adaryn, who sleep and rest far longer in the colder seasons.

  She’d never seen a Vargar, just drawings of them from old books. They were depicted as large four-legged beasts covered in fur, like a wolf but much larger and with the ability to stand on their hind legs. Perhaps their fur kept them warm in the mountains, Freya thought to herself.

  At the family dining nook Freya sat close with her loved ones, listening to Raga tell of everything that’s happened to her since she was home last. She’d beaten her Commander, Alvyna, at sparring practice. Her flock of Valkyrie had found a large bush of wild berries and made their own berry-wine at the soldiers Rookery on the border. Mentioning the berry-wine she leapt from the table and rushed to retrieve a water skin from the bag she’d left in the doorway.

  “I managed to save some to bri
ng home. Which was hard to do as this batch was phenomenal!” Raga took a swig from the skin and passed it to their father who took a hesitant sniff first.

  “Smells strong! Is this what our mighty warriors do these days? A few swigs of this and the Vargar curs would be under our noses before the sun came up!” He jested before taking an appreciative swallow of wine and proceeding to pass it to Mother. Without a word she took the bag and a few large gulps before passing the skin full of wine on to Freya.

  “Could be stronger,” she stated. Father looked at his mate with his eyes wide and a cheeky half-grin, almost in mock surprise.

  “What are you looking at, Lonan? The other ladies like to share wine whenever we meet. I’ve tasted the strong stuff they share with the Council.” She chuckled and her cheeks slightly flushed pink.

  “Well, Mother, I suppose I’ll have to bring back more if we find another batch of these berries. It’s very good stuff that got us through those long boring nights, that wine,” Raga handed the bag to Freya.

  “I’m not sure if I should, Raga. I’ve only tried a little before and wasn’t a huge fan.” Yet, she still accepted the skin of wine peering one eye in to see the swirling crimson liquid inside. The wild berry scent filled her nostrils and she had to admit it did appeal to her senses. But, after a small sip, Freya wrinkled her nose at the bitter taste and shoved the drink back to Raga. “No, I still don’t like it.”

  Her family chuckled at her distaste and continued to pass the skin around the table in between bowls of hearty vegetable stew. The sound of their talk and laughter was a comfort to Freya and she relaxed back into her seat. She was full of wine and warmth, happily seated next to her sister. When a hush fell over the table Freya realized she must have been dozing off and missed something in the conversation.

  “Raga, why?” their mother sounded distressed.