Myonna

THE SOUND OF A CRACKLING fire wakes me up from sleep. The first thing I feel is the dirt under my back, second are the bruises scattered across my arms and face. I try to move one of my arms, but its still broken. Pain rushes up my arm and I drop it against the wet leaves. Did it rain? Where am I? 

I try to stand, but a voice startles me back to the ground. 

“You’re not yet healed. Don’t try to stand.” 

Looking to my left, I see a person bent over by a crackling flame. Above the fire, a pig is being roasted. Her hair is long and silvery, her skin—from what I can see—paler than snow. However, it’s the pair of silver-white feathery wings stretching from her back that catch my eye. Is she? Oh gods. 

“Are you—Are you a kathaldra?” 

She turns, and I finally get a full view of her face. Its illuminated by the glow of the fire, and she looks almost god like, like her face was carved from the purest marble. Her eyes are upturned like a cat, her pupils large and green. Her nose is thin and slightly arched, and on her neck is a tattoo in a language I don’t understand. I know of kathaldra, I’ve read on them, but by the gods I didn’t expect to ever see one. Talks were they’d gone extinct. 

“Yes.” She nods, crossing her legs and sitting opposite me. “I found you—bleeding out. I wanted to help.” 

“Thanks—thanks for that.” I gulp. “Its just—wow. I never thought I’d see a kathaldra. A real one, not the ones in the books.” 

She laughs. “There are books about us here?” 

“Well, they don’t exactly picture you in the best light. Not like…not like this.” My voice trails off. She cocks her head, the faintest ghost of a smile playing on her lips. 

I break the silence. “I’m Myonna.” 

“I’m Neanda.” She replies. “Its Kathaldra for change.” 

“That’s beautiful.” I say. “My name means nothing.” 

She doesn’t reply, turning around and checking on the roasting pig. It still looks undone, so she turns back and stares at me. Silence lingers in the air. Many thoughts run through my head. How long have I been unconscious? What must my parents think? Ah, shit. They’re probably worried sick. 

After a few more minutes Neanda stands, taking the pig off the spit and placing it on two large leaves. It smells good. She digs her nails into it and cuts the meat in half. She hands one to me. 

“Thanks.” I say. 

“No problem.” She smiles. “I was hungry too, after all.” She digs in, and I do the same. There’s no way I’m staying here another day. My mother must be worried sick. Not to talk about Penny, or even my dad. 

“You’re thinking.” She breaks me from my thoughts. “What about?” 

I look down at my food. “I want to go home. I can’t keep my family worrying about me.” 

She nods. “I understand.” 

More silence lingers, but this time I decide to make conversation. I move closer to her, ignoring the pain. “So where do you live? I haven’t seen a kathaldra in so long. I thought they were extinct.” 

She laughs, picking meat from between her teeth. “We live far off. The beach is pink, the clouds are silver. In the camp I live, we number thousands.” 

“Wow. Where is this place.” 

“I can’t tell you.” She deadpans. “You’re human.” 

“I’m Jiakka.” I narrow my eyes.

“Same difference.”

 “Are you seriously not going to tell me where you live because I’m a Jiakka?” I ask. 

“Yes.” She says, taking another full bite. “You should understand.” 

“I don’t.” I say. I can’t help but to feel offended. I haven’t done anything to her personally, so why is she acting like this? “Can you explain it to me?” 

Neanda sighs, shaking her head. “Do you really not know?” 

I nod, and she sighs again, placing her greasy meat on her laps and licking her lips. “Years ago, before I was born, kathaldra were killed for our wings. Both human and Jiakka would hunt us down to the far ends of our forests, cutting off our wings and maiming us. My ma said they put our wings in bottles of cider and sold them as medicine, and that they also hung them on their walls like toys. There were so few of us then, all living in one village in Vaegon, and then thy came with their worst attack yet. Thousands of us. Burnt. Killed. Stripped of the only things that made us kathaldra.” 

Her voice begins to shake. I want to tell her to stop, but I cant bring myself to. She continues talking, her eyes glassed over like she’s reliving a memory. 

“They burnt our homes, and we burnt theirs too. Kathaldra were vastly outnumbered, so we retreated into the pink beaches. Over time, we were forgotten.” 

I place my hand on hers, trying to still her. She looks like she’s about to cry. “I’m so sorry. Did you have to live through that?” 

She nods. “I was three when we retreated to the pink beaches. I lost my uncle and grandmother in battle. Its strange that something so devastating for us barely even made it into local news for your people.” 

“I…I don’t know what to say.” I look up at her. “I feel terrible.” 

“Don’t.” She says. “Its not your fault. But you understand now why I can’t just tell anyone where we are. It must remain a secret.” 

I nod. “Of course. Are you going back?” 

A few seconds pass before she shakes her head. “I can’t go back.” 

I know by now not to press her for answers. If she feels like telling me, then she will. 

“Um…” I take another bite of the pig and chews. “You can come home with me.” 

Her eyes light up. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Sure. We can start going now.” 

Neanda smiles, bringing out her satchel and keeping her cut of meat inside. I notice blood splatters on the leather handle of the satchel, but I don’t ask any questions. Maybe she just hurt herself or something. 

“Can you fly?” I ask. 

“Yeah.” She nods. “However I can’t fly now. I’ve used my wings for a few hours too long. I need to let them rest.” 

“So which way are we going?” I ask.

“Well,” She stands, pulling me up to my feet and looking up at the steep cliff. “There’s no way we’re climbing.” 

I follow her eyes and look up. 

No way in hell.