A Flight of Broken Wings: Aeriel Trilogy #1

Chapter 101

Ruban let himself into the flat, making for the kitchen to put the pastries away before he ran into Hiya. Before he could get anywhere near the refrigerator, though, a bright yellow paper-plane zipped past inches from his nose, followed by a larger one in fluorescent pink which landed rather gracefully on one of the blades of the rusty old ceiling fan. A high-pitched squeal filled the air, drawing his attention to the bedroom.

Hiya sprinted round and round the tiny single-bed, her outstretched fingers grabbing at the multicoloured planes that flew around the room like oversized confetti. Sitting with his back against the headboard, Ashwin added the last few flourishes to his latest creation – a magenta monstrosity resembling a Zainian fighter-jet from the last century – before releasing it into the air to cruise the bedroom with its mates. With a shrill whoop, Hiya jumped after the new arrival, tumbling over the bed in a dubious attempt to cross the room faster.

For a moment, Ruban thought he had travelled back in time. Ashwin looked nothing like the creature he had encountered in Zikyang and everything like the young man he had met at the IAW on Emancipation Day, all those months ago. His hair was back in its usual braid, falling over one shoulder like an intricately woven ceremonial drape. And his eyes were back to being midnight-black – as Zainian as they came – no hint of the alien white remaining in their charcoal depths. Ruban closed his eyes, trying to take it all in without driving himself mad. He almost wished he could go back to believing that illusion of normalcy. It would certainly make his life easier.

But Dawad's craggy voice rang in his ears, forcing him to tear himself from that pleasant reverie. Not everything that seems apparent is really so.

It would be so easy to turn away now – to hold on to the comfort of old prejudices that had driven him for so long, had given him strength and purpose.

Easy, and cowardly. Ruban sighed. He supposed he couldn't allow the damned Aeriel the satisfaction of seeing him run away. Ruban Kinoh was a lot of things, some of them not very nice. But he was not, had never been a coward. And he refused to let some goddamn princeling – whether from Zaini or Vaan – make him feel like one.

He cleared his throat.

"Baaaaaaaaaan!" a bundle of uncontained exuberance flew into his arms, forcing him to stagger back a few steps to try and keep his balance. "You brought cake!"

"I always bring cake."

"You're the bestest, Baan! Is it chocolate? It's chocolate!" Throwing her arms around his neck, Hiya pulled herself up to give him an excited peck on the cheek. Then she hopped down, snatched the bag of pastries from his hand and ran out of the room, flying into the kitchen presumably for extra icing. Well, so much for a healthy lunch.

"I thought I told you to call me the moment he woke up," Ruban called after her, catching the magenta fighter-jet between his fingers as it soared into his vicinity.

"I texted," Hiya shouted back with a put-upon huff. "Not my fault you don't check your messages, Baan."

Ruban rolled his eyes. He remembered his father often saying: kids these days, with a sagacious shake of the head. At the time he had thought the man was being melodramatic. At the ripe old age of twenty-six, he could totally relate.

A/N: If you're enjoying the story, please do leave a like, review, or comment. It really does help me a lot! TIA!! :D