Wings
Shana Boling
evening...
The stars were watching as she stood at the edge of the clearing, black trees masking the last fading streaks of daylight. Her head was bowed in silent thought as light pooled around her hands, spilling down to melt away in the grass. Distractedly, she pulled a thread of shimmering radiance out of the main light, coiling it around one wrist before allowing it to melt away. She was waiting.
He soared far above the ground, wings harnessing the cool air. He was a creature that defied the laws of the world, an earthbound thing that took flight. The stars winked in the purple sky, faint light tracing over his powerful muscles and glinting in his eyes.
The forest passed underneath him. He couldn’t resist diving low, almost scraping the trees as he pulled out of the exhilarating plummet. A stray brown leaf, pulled up by the wind of his passage, stuck in the snowy feathers of his right wing for a moment before the wind pulled it away again.
Starlight glinted up ahead, reflecting from the spring in the clearing he always came to drink at. He dipped more, slowing as it approached and was under him. He began to descend in lazy circles.
She hastily extinguished the light in her hands as she realized what time it was. He would be here soon, and she didn’t want to frighten him off.
Hardly thirty seconds had passed when the sound of wingbeats reached her ears, and he soared into view. Even though she had seen the sight many times before, she still drew in a breath at the sight of the magnificent winged horse that spiraled down from the sky, excitement sending shivers up her back. Many nights she had watched, many nights she had planned. Now she was as ready as she’d ever be.
There was barely a sound as Pegasus’ hooves touched the grass surrounding the spring. This close, barely twenty feet away, she could make out more details. His coat gleamed white in the dim light provided by the stars and the rising sliver of the second moon, and every perfect feather on his massive wings was edged with a trace of light.
He stood still for a moment, alert to the night around him, seeking for danger. She resisted the urge to move back farther and stayed stock still as his piercing eyes swept the trees. Finally, satisfied, Pegasus lowered his head to drink.
Standing behind him at the treeline, she raised trembling hands and begin to sketch the complex glyphs for holding, binding, and taming, combined with the secret glyph that she had learned from an ancient record: the name-glyph of Pegasus. It was how she had tracked him, discovered his habits, and found the spring that he drank from every night without fail. Faint light followed her fingers as she drew in the air, her glyphs coalescing into a single whole. She finished and scooped the softly glowing creation out of the air: a bridle of golden light. Nothing like it had been created for thousands of years.
The light was already dimming. She had to act fast if she wanted to keep its potency. This was the most dangerous part, and the one she had hesitated the longest over. But in the end, her childhood dreams and adult wishes had won, and she had decided to do it. Now, drawing a round object out of her pocket, she burst out of hiding and sprinted towards him.
He startled and turned, and she flung the object. It landed on the other side of the spring and burst into a brilliant fountain of light. Pegasus whirled at this new threat, and with a strength born from desperate desire, she flung herself on his back, half pinning one powerful wing, and yanked the bridle over his head.
The next moment, she was flying through the air. She landed hard on her side, agony flaring in her ribs and head. Dazed, she looked up blearily, afraid that he was charging over to trample her. But the bridle was doing its job.
Everything else was forgotten as he bucked and whirled. The glyphs of binding and holding kept the bridle on, fitting it to his proud head. Even so, if it were not for the power of his name-glyph, it wouldn’t have stayed on for more than a few seconds.
With a primal scream of rage and fear, he leaped into the air. Light blazed around him as he futilely fought the bridle, his power no match for its binding strength. He flipped, fell, crashed on the ground, wings askew. A moment later he plunged back into the air with that same terrible scream of betrayed fury.
Sitting up, she was vaguely aware of the tears that tracked down her cheeks. Horror filled her. She had no idea it would be like this. Yes, she knew he would fight it. But she had not understood the depth of his hatred for being bound, his desire and need to be free. He was fighting the bridle with all of his strength, all the power in him, all he knew, and he was still losing... and still he fought.
The minutes passed, and at last his bucking and flailing started to slow, his wingbeats staccato and his steps staggering. Exhaustion weighed him down, and still he fought, with less and less strength. Foam streaked his coat and frothed at his lips, and his eyes were wild with pain and terror and anger.
It could not have been more than half an hour that he fought there in the starlight clearing, but to her it seemed like an eternity of remorse and shocked horror. Since she was tiny, she had dreamed of taming the Pegasus... but not like this. Never like this...
He was standing, but barely. He had fought so hard that he nearly couldn’t stay upright. His magnificent wings drooped to the ground, his proud head bowed in utter exhaustion, his beautiful eyes dull and dim. The bridle glowed with energy, but his wings were dark.
She rose, trembling almost as badly as he, her face wet. Never had she imagined this nightmarish scene. And yet should she not have? In her naivete she had thought that he would submit without too much of a struggle. And then they would fly...
She approached, and somehow he found the strength to lift his head, and defiance glimmered deep in his eyes. You caught me. You have beaten me. But I will never go willingly, they said.
When she was within a yard of him, he lurched forward at her, something rumbling in his chest. She stumbled back in shock, and he collapsed, unable to summon the strength to rise again.
Something inside of her broke, and she sank down next to him. He was too weary to even make any aggressive motion towards her, all his energy spent and absorbed by the bridle... that hateful bridle that shone on his face. She sobbed, more tears coming where she thought there were none, shame curdling in her as she saw what she had done to this beautiful proud king of the skies.
Finally, she stumbled to her feet and moved to the spring, where she stripped off her sweater. Shivering a little in the cooling air, she dipped the sweater in the clear water and carried it over to where Pegasus had fallen, kneeling by his head.
“Drink, you crazy beautiful thing,” she whispered, forcing back the tears and rubbing the soaked material against his mouth, trying to avoid the strands of golden radiance. At first, she wasn’t even sure if he was conscious, but then his tongue pulled at the water, sucking it out. Four trips back and forth from the spring, and she stopped to see how he was doing.
He looked a little better, but not much. One wing was crumpled under him where he had fallen onto it. His sides heaved, streaked with sweat and lather, dark in the dim light. His eyes were closed.
She reached out and brushed the velvet skin of Pegasus’ muzzle, wet from the water. Tingles ran through her hand, and a wave of memories flooded her... a bridle like this, bucking and fighting, a young man standing to the side... a hand caressing his muzzle... a weight on his back as he flew over burned wasteland... a warm bond with the man... and then loneliness...
Shocked, she jerked her hand back. His eyes were open now, looking at her. The pain of all those lonely years washed over her again, and she understood at last.
“Never again,” she murmured. “You said never again...”
And, as if in a dream, she reached out and tugged at the bridle. The glyphs unraveled easily in her hands, and there was a blinding flash as all the energy flowed back, freed from its golden prison. Leaping to her feet, she ran for the trees as Pegasus surged up, his energy returned to him, new strength flooding through his limbs.
He stood for a moment, as if shocked that he was freed. Then he turned, and there was a terrible light of fury that shone in his eyes as he looked at her. She shrank back but couldn’t run, frozen as he moved towards her. Muscles rippled under his coat, still darkly soaked with sweat, and he was standing over her.
She tried to form the glyphs for protection and defense, but her hands were shaking and she could hardly move. Pegasus loomed above her, and light gathered around his wingtips and blazed at the edges of his hooves.
He reared up, those hooves pawing the sky for a moment. She wanted to close her eyes but could only stare in paralyzed terror as he came down. But the pain she’d anticipated never came, as his hooves landed to either side of her.
She looked up, and into his eyes, and knew.
And then he wheeled around and cantered out to the spring. He took a long, deep draught of the cool liquid, and then spread his shining wings and took flight once more, free.
She watched with glistening eyes, and knew that he was a better creature than she. She had learned, and now she knew. And as she started the long, chilly walk back to her camp, carrying the sopping sweater and with her heart still thumping harder than usual, she could see her life would never be the same again.
The stars were watching as she stood at the edge of the clearing, black trees masking the last fading streaks of daylight. Her head was bowed in silent thought as light pooled around her hands, spilling down to melt away in the grass. Distractedly, she pulled a thread of shimmering radiance out of the main light, coiling it around one wrist before allowing it to melt away. She was waiting.
He soared far above the ground, wings harnessing the cool air. He was a creature that defied the laws of the world, an earthbound thing that took flight. The stars winked in the purple sky, faint light tracing over his powerful muscles and glinting in his eyes.
The forest passed underneath him. He couldn’t resist diving low, almost scraping the trees as he pulled out of the exhilarating plummet. A stray brown leaf, pulled up by the wind of his passage, stuck in the snowy feathers of his right wing for a moment before the wind pulled it away again.
Starlight glinted up ahead, reflecting from the spring in the clearing he always came to drink at. He dipped more, slowing as it approached and was under him. He began to descend in lazy circles.
She hastily extinguished the light in her hands as she realized what time it was. He would be here soon, and she didn’t want to frighten him off.
Hardly thirty seconds had passed when the sound of wingbeats reached her ears, and he soared into view. Even though she had seen the sight many times before, she still drew in a breath at the sight of the magnificent winged horse that spiraled down from the sky, excitement sending shivers up her back. Many nights she had watched, many nights she had planned. Now she was as ready as she’d ever be.
There was barely a sound as Pegasus’ hooves touched the grass surrounding the spring. This close, barely twenty feet away, she could make out more details. His coat gleamed white in the dim light provided by the stars and the rising sliver of the second moon, and every perfect feather on his massive wings was edged with a trace of light.
He stood still for a moment, alert to the night around him, seeking for danger. She resisted the urge to move back farther and stayed stock still as his piercing eyes swept the trees. Finally, satisfied, Pegasus lowered his head to drink.
Standing behind him at the treeline, she raised trembling hands and begin to sketch the complex glyphs for holding, binding, and taming, combined with the secret glyph that she had learned from an ancient record: the name-glyph of Pegasus. It was how she had tracked him, discovered his habits, and found the spring that he drank from every night without fail. Faint light followed her fingers as she drew in the air, her glyphs coalescing into a single whole. She finished and scooped the softly glowing creation out of the air: a bridle of golden light. Nothing like it had been created for thousands of years.
The light was already dimming. She had to act fast if she wanted to keep its potency. This was the most dangerous part, and the one she had hesitated the longest over. But in the end, her childhood dreams and adult wishes had won, and she had decided to do it. Now, drawing a round object out of her pocket, she burst out of hiding and sprinted towards him.
He startled and turned, and she flung the object. It landed on the other side of the spring and burst into a brilliant fountain of light. Pegasus whirled at this new threat, and with a strength born from desperate desire, she flung herself on his back, half pinning one powerful wing, and yanked the bridle over his head.
The next moment, she was flying through the air. She landed hard on her side, agony flaring in her ribs and head. Dazed, she looked up blearily, afraid that he was charging over to trample her. But the bridle was doing its job.
Everything else was forgotten as he bucked and whirled. The glyphs of binding and holding kept the bridle on, fitting it to his proud head. Even so, if it were not for the power of his name-glyph, it wouldn’t have stayed on for more than a few seconds.
With a primal scream of rage and fear, he leaped into the air. Light blazed around him as he futilely fought the bridle, his power no match for its binding strength. He flipped, fell, crashed on the ground, wings askew. A moment later he plunged back into the air with that same terrible scream of betrayed fury.
Sitting up, she was vaguely aware of the tears that tracked down her cheeks. Horror filled her. She had no idea it would be like this. Yes, she knew he would fight it. But she had not understood the depth of his hatred for being bound, his desire and need to be free. He was fighting the bridle with all of his strength, all the power in him, all he knew, and he was still losing... and still he fought.
The minutes passed, and at last his bucking and flailing started to slow, his wingbeats staccato and his steps staggering. Exhaustion weighed him down, and still he fought, with less and less strength. Foam streaked his coat and frothed at his lips, and his eyes were wild with pain and terror and anger.
It could not have been more than half an hour that he fought there in the starlight clearing, but to her it seemed like an eternity of remorse and shocked horror. Since she was tiny, she had dreamed of taming the Pegasus... but not like this. Never like this...
He was standing, but barely. He had fought so hard that he nearly couldn’t stay upright. His magnificent wings drooped to the ground, his proud head bowed in utter exhaustion, his beautiful eyes dull and dim. The bridle glowed with energy, but his wings were dark.
She rose, trembling almost as badly as he, her face wet. Never had she imagined this nightmarish scene. And yet should she not have? In her naivete she had thought that he would submit without too much of a struggle. And then they would fly...
She approached, and somehow he found the strength to lift his head, and defiance glimmered deep in his eyes. You caught me. You have beaten me. But I will never go willingly, they said.
When she was within a yard of him, he lurched forward at her, something rumbling in his chest. She stumbled back in shock, and he collapsed, unable to summon the strength to rise again.
Something inside of her broke, and she sank down next to him. He was too weary to even make any aggressive motion towards her, all his energy spent and absorbed by the bridle... that hateful bridle that shone on his face. She sobbed, more tears coming where she thought there were none, shame curdling in her as she saw what she had done to this beautiful proud king of the skies.
Finally, she stumbled to her feet and moved to the spring, where she stripped off her sweater. Shivering a little in the cooling air, she dipped the sweater in the clear water and carried it over to where Pegasus had fallen, kneeling by his head.
“Drink, you crazy beautiful thing,” she whispered, forcing back the tears and rubbing the soaked material against his mouth, trying to avoid the strands of golden radiance. At first, she wasn’t even sure if he was conscious, but then his tongue pulled at the water, sucking it out. Four trips back and forth from the spring, and she stopped to see how he was doing.
He looked a little better, but not much. One wing was crumpled under him where he had fallen onto it. His sides heaved, streaked with sweat and lather, dark in the dim light. His eyes were closed.
She reached out and brushed the velvet skin of Pegasus’ muzzle, wet from the water. Tingles ran through her hand, and a wave of memories flooded her... a bridle like this, bucking and fighting, a young man standing to the side... a hand caressing his muzzle... a weight on his back as he flew over burned wasteland... a warm bond with the man... and then loneliness...
Shocked, she jerked her hand back. His eyes were open now, looking at her. The pain of all those lonely years washed over her again, and she understood at last.
“Never again,” she murmured. “You said never again...”
And, as if in a dream, she reached out and tugged at the bridle. The glyphs unraveled easily in her hands, and there was a blinding flash as all the energy flowed back, freed from its golden prison. Leaping to her feet, she ran for the trees as Pegasus surged up, his energy returned to him, new strength flooding through his limbs.
He stood for a moment, as if shocked that he was freed. Then he turned, and there was a terrible light of fury that shone in his eyes as he looked at her. She shrank back but couldn’t run, frozen as he moved towards her. Muscles rippled under his coat, still darkly soaked with sweat, and he was standing over her.
She tried to form the glyphs for protection and defense, but her hands were shaking and she could hardly move. Pegasus loomed above her, and light gathered around his wingtips and blazed at the edges of his hooves.
He reared up, those hooves pawing the sky for a moment. She wanted to close her eyes but could only stare in paralyzed terror as he came down. But the pain she’d anticipated never came, as his hooves landed to either side of her.
She looked up, and into his eyes, and knew.
And then he wheeled around and cantered out to the spring. He took a long, deep draught of the cool liquid, and then spread his shining wings and took flight once more, free.
She watched with glistening eyes, and knew that he was a better creature than she. She had learned, and now she knew. And as she started the long, chilly walk back to her camp, carrying the sopping sweater and with her heart still thumping harder than usual, she could see her life would never be the same again.