This storm was one of rain, but no wind.
Not that it mattered.
Sitting on a small stump, I just… listened to the rain all around . I listened to it falling into puddles. Hitting the shoddy tent above . hitting the bucket nearby, and the other bucket that was turned upside down not far from it. I heard it hitting the field, the trees… the leaves and branches…
I heard it all, and didn't care at all.
If anything I only hoped it'd just… keep raining. Forever. And just wash away.
Not like I'd be able to escape such a flood anymore, anyway.
Leaning back, I rested against the huge tree… in a way I'd never done before.
I had no wings to get in the way anymore, so I had found it easier to sit and lay down lately. It was a weird solace to abide in, but it was sothing.
And sothing was better than nothing.
Right?
Closing my eyes, I felt the drops of rain that fell past the tent covering fall upon my face. A few were heavy, too heavy even for this storm. I knew if I opened my eyes and looked up, I'd see that the tent had started to rip and tear. It'd not be long until it just… fell apart, likely. In fact if the storm ever gathered up enough strength to form winds and gusts, it'd likely not last the night.
Also sothing that didn't matter anymore.
I knew if I was still with Tosh and the rest I'd be getting yelled at. That I was still too weak to risk this. That if I wasn't careful I'd get sick, or worse.
But who cared? Who cares?
I was now grounded. Stuck on the ground. I may as well be sick, always, now.
Without my wings, without being able to fly… I was basically sick as it was. Deford. Broken.
What use was a bird without her wings…? What use at all?
"Lilly of the Skies," I scoffed the na everyone had given throughout the wars. Though I'd not heard it lately. Not since losing my wings.
Was it them trying to be nice, or was it their way of taunting ?
I heard the sounds first. Opening my eyes, I turned just in ti to watch a gust of wind hit . I flinched, and instinctively went to raise a wing to cover myself and shield from its onslaught… but of course, such a thing didn't work. Instead the world beca noisy as I heard sothing snap, and then monts later I was being rained upon in full.
My tent had just flown off.
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I followed it in the air for a mont, and then watched it land a few dozen wing beats away. It rolled a bit until it clumped up and stopped in a bundle of a ss.
"Figures," I said.
Looking upward, I glared at the bottom of my ho. The red and black wood and paint looked almost like it was mocking .
It looked tiny from down here. Even though I knew it was huge. Too big for just myself.
Too big for a single person.
I glared at it for a long mont before I looked back down at my hands. The bloody blotches along my palms, and one of my missing fingernails, infuriated . And not just because the wounds hurt.
I couldn't even get inside my own ho.
To think I used to call myself strong! To think I used to look down on all the others, thinking them weak!
I couldn't even climb a tree without my wings. I was no better, no stronger, than any of them. Just as incapable… just as feeble.
"Gods…" I groaned as I clenched my fists, which only hurt even more. I focused on the pain as I scrunched up… all while the rain continued to fall.
Weakness bothered . But it wasn't being weak that truly upset . It was being weak of the mind that infuriated . Of the soul. To cower in the face of danger, especially when there was no danger at all. Like when people fled at the re sight of . Or wouldn't look in the eye. Or when they'd pass out at the re hint of violence. Such things told how spineless they were. That they may as well be sheep, not people. If you couldn't even face your own death and fears, how were you any better than the cattle we ate? How were you any better than the bugs we crushed under foot?
It was one's willingness to stand up and face what feared them that separated us from the normal. I had no problem with people being scared… I just didn't like it when they allowed that fear to control them.
Which was exactly what I was doing right now.
I was too scared to try again.
Too scared to climb the tree once more. What if I slipped again? Especially during this storm? And this ti what if I didn't just fall and bruise a few limbs? What if I climbed just to my house before falling?
A fall from that height, from my house, might not kill … but it'd break everything. It'd break things enough that I'd die afterward, for sure. It'd lead to my death, at least. Because I was alone. And I'd have no one to help . I'd wither away… either starving to death, or dying from the injuries that kept here.
And that fact scared . Terrified . Enough to keep down here… wallowing in the rain.
Which made weak.
But I wasn't just weak… I was broken.
Maybe this was all on purpose. Like how Celine and the rest speak of their gods, saying everything had a grand purpose. That everything was by design.
Maybe I losing my wings was my penance. My price. For looking down all this ti on everyone else, not just from the skies… but in life.
Or maybe I was just as weak as everyone else, and it took being stuck on the ground to realize it.
This was what I got for turning Windle down, wasn't it?
I had spurned his affection. I had pushed him away. Found him unworthy.
And yet now it was I who was unworthy. No… I had always been the one who wasn't worth anything.
Not that it mattered. There was no chance any of them would choose now, without my wings. Who would?
I wouldn't have chosen anyone who had lost theirs, after all…
Then, without warning, the rain stopped.
Or at least, it stopped falling upon .
Confused a little, since I still heard and felt the storm all around … I glanced up and before I even fully realized who was standing above , holding out his cloak as to shield from the storm, I began to weep.
"Co, Lilly of the Skies. Let's get you ho," Vim said gently.
Standing up, I stepped right up and into him. I wrapped Vim in a hug, and clung to him as I cried.
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