Wings of Destruction and Duty

02 || Aurnia

The forest groaned as a cold clammy wind swept across the trees, their branches strained against its iron grip before cracking and tumbling towards the ground. Aurnia braced herself as another wave of anger rolled through her, she listened as the trees creaked and whispered in the howling wind. And the tiny cottage window did nothing to hide the sight of pus filled boils erupting on their bark. Purple sap flew through the air and bubbled when it hit the ground.

She had watched in despair as the moon flicked before going dark. Her crumbling home was sheltered from the worst of the wind but every passing second only deepened her worries and ate at her nerves. Guilt danced inside her head and dug its thick claws into her tender skull.

She was too late.

A few more months was all she needed to break the spells that bound Lily to that wretched prison, and while each visit to the cursed place had been to soothe her sister's pain, Aurnia always took the chance to steal her sister's anger. She gazed at cracked floorboards underneath her feet and traced the holes bored into the planks by generations of termites. A chipped mirror lay forgotten in the corner and the thoughts of looking into its gleaming surface sent shudders down her spine.

Wood creaked as she crossed the rotting floorboards and walked towards her bed, she cringed when she heard something warm and furry squeak beneath her feet. A faded blue blanket lay neatly folded at the foot of the bed and when she bent down she could just make out the messy embroidery bordering the cloth. Handicrafts had never been a talent of hers.

Tiny legs scampered across the back of her hand as Aurnia pulled a bag out from underneath the battered bed frame. She growled, shaking off cobwebs and watchful spiders. Suddenly the window rattled and her nose was instantly filled with the heavy scent of sweat and iron.

One mistake had sent the king's thugs running after her, she just hadn't expected them to catch up so quickly. Aurnia hissed a command and listened for their footsteps in the distance. The ground shivered and she could just make out the snort of weary horses and the thud of leather boots.

She crammed the blanket into the bag along with a small container of food. Her eyes roamed the barren room and landed on the mirror. She'd always hated that thing. It was no bigger than a book but its corners gleamed with sheen only given by the spilling of blood. Rudimentary carvings had been hacked into its frame and once there were a few precious stones studded in its wooden skeleton, but she'd either sold or lost them along the way. Her hand hovered over the grimy glass and she hesitated before shoving it into the bag.

The little house seemed to sway with the world's fury and Aurnia did not care, she paused as the wind ripped another clump of thatching away and sent it dancing in the dusty air. Her battered home had served its purpose, perhaps it was time to lay it to rest. She grinned and scratched the protective glyph off the door. A cool wave of energy washed over her and the air crackled with anticipation, for once in a long time her mind felt clear.

The short burst of relief that was quickly destroyed when the trees started screaming.

Like a bitter choir their screams sent her mind spinning in all directions, she felt the world tilt as the smell of decay and despair filled her head. Countless shrieks wove their way through the wind, the highs and lows melding together to create a dissonant song not unlike the praise the people delivered to their king each day in his citadel.

Aurnia flicked her tongue and shut the door behind her. Sparks flew as she muttered an old spell with a hand on the door, the ancient wood crackled and blackened under her palm. Her eyes gleamed as flames began to dance and race up the door, the thatching popped and Aurnia felt a twinge of concern when the sparks drifted towards the trees. Then it vanished, apologies could come later.