It was a rare thing to see a dark silhouette framed by stars standing on a cliff high beyond normal heights. This spot was usually perched on by her eagle, but tonight he was elsewhere, he had only dropped her off so she could stargaze. Mostly what she did was lay on her back gazing up into the black starry expanse of sky, the sound of the wind her only company. She enjoyed her solitude, when Ashta came back for her it would be because he wanted rest, but he, like her, had things he liked to do away from her company, even if the rest of the time they spent near one another. She had the sneaking suspicion it was because he thought she’d appreciate his glorious presence more with time apart, it was also probably true too, not that she’d tell him that. The bird was vain enough, if she told him that his head would swell and he’d never be able to get off the ground to fly. She loved him though, which was more than anyone else could say in regards to anything she had towards them.
People. Noisy, neglectful, idiotic and untrustworthy beings that in her eighteen years of life had never shown her one redeeming quality. Perhaps her opinion was colored by the fact that until she was twelve she had been the lowest of rank, with no hope for anything better. Mistreated, neglected, abused, near starved, ignored, but never shown something so basic and precious as kindness, save by two beings. At ten she caught the attention of someone extraordinary, the god of birds, Eywaat. He had been gentle, kind, soothing in that moment when her heart lay in pieces over the discovery of the corpse of a raven that she had been trying to raise so he could fly. The mark on her left ear, the strange little protrusions that lined the top edge of her ear that felt like stiff feathers, was proof of his interest in her. He had promised her those eight years ago that he’d visit her again when she had ‘reached the sky’. Not two years later she had bonded with Ashta and had gained that ability, but the deity had not appeared to her again.
Six years had passed, because of her promotion in rank she had been allowed to learn more than what she’d have been able as a Dek. She could read and write, she had food aplenty, a home, a beloved friend, she could hunt, track, trap, play a flute, but above all she had true freedom. She needed no one else in her life and save for her duties she could do as she wished and no one would question her. She was content, something that she cherished beyond anything else and if someone dared to try taking that away she’d probably kill them just to keep it. People selfishly took for granted their freedoms, abused it and others, just because they can. The reason she had been where she had been was because of one, small, defect. She couldn’t utter a sound. She figured that was why even the woman who had borne her, though she had never seen her, had never even slipped by her to tell her who she was.
She was an Endal, one of the highest rank of her people, she had risen so high, yet her mother never surfaced. Perhaps she was dead, her mother had been a Dek too, it was highly probable. She’d never know for sure, but sometimes she hoped the woman was just too ashamed of the fact she never tried to tell her who she was that she watched from afar. Most days she didn’t put any thought to such things, but tonight she was feeling a shade melancholy, by tomorrow it would probably be gone. At least she hoped so.
People. Noisy, neglectful, idiotic and untrustworthy beings that in her eighteen years of life had never shown her one redeeming quality. Perhaps her opinion was colored by the fact that until she was twelve she had been the lowest of rank, with no hope for anything better. Mistreated, neglected, abused, near starved, ignored, but never shown something so basic and precious as kindness, save by two beings. At ten she caught the attention of someone extraordinary, the god of birds, Eywaat. He had been gentle, kind, soothing in that moment when her heart lay in pieces over the discovery of the corpse of a raven that she had been trying to raise so he could fly. The mark on her left ear, the strange little protrusions that lined the top edge of her ear that felt like stiff feathers, was proof of his interest in her. He had promised her those eight years ago that he’d visit her again when she had ‘reached the sky’. Not two years later she had bonded with Ashta and had gained that ability, but the deity had not appeared to her again.
Six years had passed, because of her promotion in rank she had been allowed to learn more than what she’d have been able as a Dek. She could read and write, she had food aplenty, a home, a beloved friend, she could hunt, track, trap, play a flute, but above all she had true freedom. She needed no one else in her life and save for her duties she could do as she wished and no one would question her. She was content, something that she cherished beyond anything else and if someone dared to try taking that away she’d probably kill them just to keep it. People selfishly took for granted their freedoms, abused it and others, just because they can. The reason she had been where she had been was because of one, small, defect. She couldn’t utter a sound. She figured that was why even the woman who had borne her, though she had never seen her, had never even slipped by her to tell her who she was.
She was an Endal, one of the highest rank of her people, she had risen so high, yet her mother never surfaced. Perhaps she was dead, her mother had been a Dek too, it was highly probable. She’d never know for sure, but sometimes she hoped the woman was just too ashamed of the fact she never tried to tell her who she was that she watched from afar. Most days she didn’t put any thought to such things, but tonight she was feeling a shade melancholy, by tomorrow it would probably be gone. At least she hoped so.
