Wings of Destruction and Duty

03 || Orion

Orion never thought the sun could be disapproving, but the way the sun glared at him from high up in the sky seemed to suggest otherwise. Its unrelenting light bore into his skin, almost as if it hated what he was about to do.

Orion pushed away any feeling of guilt before slamming the door shut, the old wood shuddered for a second, but he was too busy gazing out beyond the line of trees to notice. Just moments ago, he could have sworn that there was someone standing on the edge of the forest. Travellers weren't too common but watching the person sway had unnerved him.

Perhaps last night's storm had something do with the sudden disturbance. His aunts had even declared that they needed to make a quick journey into town. The shadow in their eyes suggested otherwise, but Orion knew better than to push. He felt for the knife in his pocket and relief swept over him as his hand closed around the cold handle.

He began to make his way down the worn wooden steps that hugged the massive oak tree, for as long as he could remember the tree had been his home. The winding rooms that wove their way through the branches often offered surprises, but he'd learned to appreciate the vantage point that it offered.

He glanced up and eyed the swirling birds hidden among the clouds, their shadows danced across the leaves and he strained to make out the top of the tree. Once he had tried climbing the very top, his aunt Niamh had laughed, and a day of endless climbing and many splinters soon ended that journey.

The countless trinkets that hung suspended from its twisting branches chimed in the breeze, each one was a memory from many years ago and he'd always liked adding things on his birthdays.

"I'll be back." His voice sounded oddly hollow among the thick leaves and while he wasn't sure who he was speaking to, the lilt at the end suggested a streak of nervousness. Orion gritted his teeth and stilled his breath, failing a small task was a weak thing to do, and what was so frightening about a forest that he didn't want to step foot inside it alone.

As he descended, he passed the few rooms that had been hollowed into the trunk and he peered inside the windows hoping to catch sight of Niamh's creations, it was empty, and the dust seemed to mock him. So he quickened his pace and raced towards the ground.

The winding path leading up to the forest was long and peppered with small broken stones, remnants of failed experiments and half attempted spells. Still, a few did flash when he walked past, and prickles danced across his skull. Doubt nudged his mind; travellers were rare, and several were curious enough to venture close to their home. Perhaps this journey wasn't necessary at all and if anything did happen maybe he should wait for his aunts to return. He paused and gazed at the shadows thrown on the ground. His aunts would be back by nightfall, a few hours were more than enough for a quick journey and there was no need to tell them about it.

The dense forest that surrounded their home offered little comfort. The leaves on each tree were hard and coarse, those who came into contact with them were often left with deep scratches. Once he had even found a rabbit skewered on branches of a particularly mottled pine.

But all the warnings about hidden dangers and threats flew out of his head the minute he passed through the towering trees and into a hidden world. Here the air was cool and laden with the thick smell of damp leaves and fresh rain. The dirt path faded under old leaves and toadstools. Orion scanned the ground for footprints but found nothing. He frowned and continued deeper into the trees.

Suddenly something rustled behind his shoulder, he tensed and drew the knife from his pocket but when he whirled around, he was faced with a small ball of feathers tucked within a short stubby bush. It wobbled before a head appeared from behind a wing.