Wings and Steel

Chapter I - Mistakes

A/N: Hello and welcome to the first chapter of my first story. First of all, I thank you for checking out Wings and Steel and I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Just a small heads up, the story contains some violence/cruelty along the way, as well as some details which might be triggering for some of you. If you are okay with that, then allow me to once again wish you a happy reading and a lovely day!

Isn't it funny how one thing, one decision that you make, can completely turn your life upside down? How one choice you made having the best intentions can cost you more than you were ever willing to pay? I understand, for I've been there. I thought I was doing good, but I ended up completely sealing my fate...and maybe not just mine.

But I suppose I'd better explain.

My name is Amanita Leporino and I'm a Fairy. Yes, you heard that right, I am a Fairy. Well, maybe not the sort of Fairy you might imagine. I am not some tiny, fragile being, the size of a tulip, like most stories would have you believe. Fairies are, in fact, similar to humans in size. But we are not fragile. In fact, we used to fight alongside an ancient race of warriors, known as The Hjalmari, long before humans came to exist. The stories got one thing right, however. And that thing is our wings. Wings are a Fairy's most treasured possession. Without them, we essencially lose part of ourselves...without them, there's a void in our heart which we could never hope to fill.

We have lived in peace with humans for a long while. But peace is a temporary moment of joy. It is, sadly, never meant to last. Soon enough, the human population grew as the "fantasy creatures" – a generic name for every non-human – became fewer and fewer. The Hjalmari went almost extinct after a war with the humans over a hundred years ago. Now they live in secrecy, hiding like rats from the predatory eyes of a cat, as humans have been determined to wipe them out. They went so far as to declare any sort of possible interaction with them as high treason, punishable by death. All the Fairies who were bound by contract to a Hjalmari warrior at the end of the war were executed. The rest of us have been barely tolerated by humans since then. They give us low paying jobs only and treat us poorly. And to think they used to gaze in awe at the beauty and grace of our wings as we soared peacefully above the sky and write beautiful stories about us but a few centuries ago. Now we are not even allowed to fly anymore. Being caught flying means you instantly lose your wings. They even used to "ornate" certain parts of their towns with the wings they stole from us – a twisted, grim reminder of every Fairy's ultimate fate. A fate worse than death.

And all this happened because of a drug invented by humans. "Power juice" is the name they gave it. A disgusting concoction that briefly empowered humans with unnatural speed, strength and agility, all the while slowly rotting away their insides. This abomination they had created was their trump card in the war, the only reason they won. A lot of them were concerned with the side effects of this product. Others couldn't get enough. If only they used that power to do good, but instead they used it to enslave races they considered inferior – which is every other race they could possibly find. The Hjalmari started the war in hopes of stopping the humans, but they were already drunk with power and couldn't stop conquering.

Fortunately for me, I had not yet been born at the time of the massacre. In fact, my life had been pretty eventless up until a few months ago. I used to spend my free time doing research, studying history, old contracts between Fairies and Hjalmari and secretly training into the art of Enchantments – the main reason why our races worked together. I've always been intrigued by the relationship between us and the Hjalmari. The way we worked together and complemented each other on the battlefield. But that era has long since passed.

My life took an interesting turn about three months ago. I had been working as a bounty hunter for whomever paid more. It was the only job that licensed me to use magic – all except flying, naturally. One day, as I was delivering a bounty, a tall woman in a luxury suit approached me. The shirt underneath her coat was made of the finest silk, with delicate flower motifs. Seeing her pristine look made me slightly conscious of my – now dirty – cheap dress, one of the few pieces of clothing that I owned.