Little Miss Wingless
Chapter 2: The Wish

The mysterious darkness morphed into a clear blue sky as Melanie continued to fall. The journal dislodged itself away from her grip and Melanie squeezed her eyes shut. She continued to scream as she felt the frigid wind rush around her, until she roughly fell atop something and was instantly drenched.

She immediately sat up and let out an exaggerated gasp as her body reacted startlingly to the frosty water. Melanie was sitting in a beautiful fountain the sculpted soft grey stone had intricate details of patterning along the basin. The centre of the water feature had three-tiered bowls delicately shaped so that the water draped down out of them. Flakes of ice being to form bobbled and swirled around her in the water.

What had broken her fall was not something, but someone. It was a boy. He looked likely to be around her age and was dressed in multiple layers of winter-appropriate clothing. He had a large bandanna around his neck that matched the colour of his eyes, which was a striking bold red. His jet-black hair was beautifully long and flowing, held up together in the back by a high pony tail, but also had many lengths of shorter hair sculpting his face. Two little black nubs, the starting growth of horns, peeked out from his hair. But what got Melanie’s attention most of all was the sleek black wings that protruded from his back. His clothing was designed to keep them back neatly, but they had dislodged and the straps were dangling loose.

For a long while, neither of them moved. They just stared, stunned at each other.

A shift in the wind caused Melanie to shiver, little bumps appearing on her skin, and snapping her back to reality. She stood up and pointed at the boy, a twinkling gleam in her eye.

“An angel!” She exclaimed.

The boy flinched at her finger and responded in a soft voice. “No.”

“No?” Melanie repeated, sounding disappointed. “Aw...”

The boy’s facial expression went through a fitfulness of confusion and wonder. As he shifted to stand up, Melanie offered outstretched hands to help him. The face he was making remained the same as he tentatively accepted her motion and she pulled him up to his feet. She then tried her best to correct the askew of his dishevelled clothing.

“Sorry I fell on you. Are you okay?” Melanie asked while she tried to smack water out of her skirt. “Why were you in here anyway?”

The boy did not answer her but asked his own question.

“Are you here because of my wish?”

The boy was a tad smaller than Melanie and he gazed up at her with adorable anticipation.

Melanie paused wringing water out of her light brown piggy tails.

“Your wish?” She glanced, confused, at the mini waterfalls pouring from the giant sculpted artwork.

“Oh! Is this a wishing fountain?” She asked excited by her own assumption. “What did you wish for?”

The boy stiffened by the question and his cheeks turned red.

“For a friend,” He answered shyly.

Melanie beamed a big smile.“Oh! We can be friends!” she giggled happily. “I’m Melanie. But because we’re friends, you can call me Mel. What is your name?”

“Prince Kyro!” A voice called out loudly from the distance.

Both the children turned towards the voice and Melanie took in her surroundings for the first time. The fountain was placed in the centre of what looked like an archaic town square. Dotted around the water feature were carts and stalls that formed a little market. Not all of them appeared open for business, but the few that were displayed clothing, handmade goods, and various other things. There was a whispering scent of smoke stoked from multiple small fires, along with a comforting smell of warm food. Beyond the market, were many solid housing and business structures of stone and wood. The buildings were two or three stories high and a thin layer of ice was beginning to form on many of the structural protrusions. Pieces of fabric and signs hung about the town, advertising in symbols Melanie didn’t understand. Further beyond that Melanie could see a huge building that looked just like the magical castles from her favourite fairy tales.

People were scatted everywhere around the town square. Strange tall people. All of them with shades of soft greys or white hair and wings that matched in colour. They were all dressed snugly for the weather in thick layers similar to the style the little boy in the fountain wore. Most of them went about their business, but those close enough to notice were staring straight at the two children. Whispers, looks of concern, or shocked expressions plastered across their faces.

Several men, including the one that had yelled out, were running toward Melanie. They were all dressed in uniforms, a mix of the colours red, black and gold trim accents. Tough, darkly tanned leather-like fabric over their clothing. Arrays of belts and buckles, some holding down blades or side bags, others grasped around their midriffs, legs, hips and held back wings. Like the other town residents, these soldiers had snowy hair and curved established horns of different lengths. Each of them had yellow eyes, and they towered over Melanie like giants.

Melanie was swiftly surrounded and was yanked out of the water and onto the cold hard ground. She could feel her cheek burn against the icy chill of the stone bricks as someone’s boot pinned her in place.

“Let me go! I didn’t do anything!” She yelled. The fear and confusion was ripe in her tone.

The men surrounding her were physically taken aback at the sound of her speak. They began yelling at each other in flustered tones.

“It spoke!”

“No wings and strange attire. A cursed child?!”

“The colour of her hair and eyes! How very peculiar.”

“Did Prince Kyro bring her here?”

“Everyone stay alert. Do not directly touch her!”

The little boy, Kyro, was still sitting in the water. No one approached him or helped him step over the small wall that kept the water contained. As he tried to make his way over to Melanie he slipped over, and thumped against the hard stonework. All eyes watched him as he hissed in pain and slowly sat up, rubbing the grazes now on his palms. His eyes were welling up with tears.

“What is going on?!” Perhaps the scariest man of all suddenly appeared, his voice deep and smokey.

He also seemed startled and concerned with Melanie’s presence. This man was dressed far more extravagantly than the others. His ivory horns pulled back from his head, twisted, and then kinked downwards towards the sides of his face. They were decorated in golden embossed cuff jewellery that clamped over them tightly. His white hair was up and plaited into fancy twists and knots. And he had a regal and intimidating face, exaggerated by his thick eyebrows and sharply groomed sideburns.

“What did you do, Kyro?”

Kyro averted his gaze and said nothing. He tucked his sore hands into the long lengths of his sleeves.

“Explain to me what my son will not.” He demanded of the group.

“Of course, King Kerbahn.” One man voluntarily stood forward from the band. He tilted his head respectfully as he spoke. “We just got here and found Prince Kyro and that other strange child in the fountain-.”

“I found this, sir.” Another man cut in and handed over the strange journal Melanie had been grasping earlier. It appeared to have missed a soggy fate in the water.

King Kerbahn flipped through the pages, raising an eyebrow in recognition, before he slammed it shut and sighed. He nestled the journal in between some of the layers of his intricate garments. Then hauled his silent son up under the crook of his arm. Kyro dangled there like a sad, wet ragdoll.

“I recognise the writing. Prepare our messenger seers to contact the king of Sameer. I want Tancred here. Immediately.”

The men’s gazes shuffled nervously amongst each other.

“What should we do with the girl?” One of them inquired.

Melanie was grasping and hitting at the boot that still had her pinned to the ground.

“First you will remove her from under your foot. If my own groundsmen cannot restrain a child without excessive force, perhaps I should rethink your positions?”

The man in question looked ashamed, but dared to snidely ask; “Are you sure that is safe, my King?”

“Really now, Alveeha. It’s a little girl. Not a crazed wurbear.”

Melanie was relieved when Alveeha backed down, and she did not fight when the king scooped her up too with his other free arm. The rest of the men sniggered at the comment and Melanie stuck her tongue out at the embarrassed man.

“Yeah, Alfalfa! You’re not scared of me, are you?” Melanie taunted.

“But if she is cursed-” Alveeha began to argue, looking a Melanie with distaste.

“-You mean cursed like my son?” Kerbahn snapped back aggressively.

Alveeha’s expression dropped to fearful and he backed off, holding his tongue.

“If I catch wind of any of my men dribbling nonsense about foolish superstitious curses again, your jobs will be the least of your worries.”

Melanie protested as King Kerbahn passed her over to another of his men. He was obviously uncomfortable having to hold her, but obediently did so anyway.

“Put her in one of the cells for now,” Kerbahn instructed. “And keep a close eye on her until I return.”