When wings set you free from that fractured mask

The same as before, when dawn met the village, the trio set foot to continue their travels. This time, the village gave them more to bring with them. A child offered his sword skills in service to which they promised him a better future if he cared for his village in their absence. And if he still wishes so, he can grow up to be an adventurer like them.

Koharu hops from one paw to the other, following the footsteps they left in the mud. Koharu looks back at the petals on its tail left, swishing left and right to create more of a beautiful mess that complemented the soil they walked on. Kagen couldn’t help but watch Rure’s soft smile as she watched Koharu discreetly. Neoru shifted his eyes from Rure towards Kagen, his best friend. He was watching Rure so closely as if a blink would make them disappear. Kagen felt himself being watched, Neoru caught his eye and with a smile and a nod, he felt warmer.

“Would you like to rest?” Koharu plopped down on Rure’s shoulders. “You are walking slower than usual.”

Kagen slows his steps. “Do you need anything?” Neoru moves to sit beside Rure’s figure, moving towards a stone to sit on. He falls on the grass, opening his travel bag. Kagen looks around for something nearby.

“We should rest for the day, night is close and the next village is far away.”

Kagen begins to set up a small tent for them under a big tree and away from the main path. Koharu helping him with stones and sticks from his bag. His satchel full of snacks, Koharu can’t help but sneak into it, growling when Koharu was pulled by the tail.

“Later.” Kagen murmured, wearing his satchel. Neoru watched as Rure leaned back against the tree, slowly falling asleep on the stone. He puts a palm over her forehead.

“Is she okay?” Kagen kneels beside them. Koharu jumping to nuzzle against Rure.

“She feels warm.” Kagen moves to carry Rure in his arms, asking Neoru to cook some food while the sun was still up for their dinner. He sets up a small campfire for them, asking Koharu to help catch fish from the nearby stream.

Rure felt herself being laid against a soft blanket, she felt sleepier than usual now that the sun was not against her face. She felt the sigil engraved on her hand warm up at the closeness of one of them. She sighed, falling deeper into her dreams.

Kagen watched her sleep for a while before covering her with a blanket to keep her warm now that he was leaving the tent to go to Neoru, bringing his warmth with him.

“I fried four.” He reached over to give him his fish, his sigil reflecting the ember from the fire, catching his eyes.

“We’re entwined now. A true circle.” Neoru says out loud, munching on his own meal. Koharu only nods from beside them.

“The beautiful colors represent your circle. Blue for Rure, red for Kagen, and brown for Neoru.” Koharu shares, licking her paws and cleaning herself like a cat.

“Where’s yours?” Kagen nods towards Koharu’s empty paw. Neoru investigates its tail, expecting it to show up there.

“I’m a spring spirit, I’m with Rure because our souls are intertwined already. Sigils are lower than my connection with her.” Koharu bullies them lightly. Kagen chuckles at the display of jealousy. Neoru smiles softly at Koharu, agreeing that their connection is a bit different than theirs.

A lingering silence fell upon them at the thought of the whites swirling around their sigils. Soon enough, sleep overtook them after they prepared to rest for the night with Rure between them to keep her warm. Koharu wrapped around Rure, offering her the feeling of being safe from its tight hold onto her. Rure fell into a deep sleep, wishing the warmth never would leave her alone ever again.

The Winged Village

The wind did not howl here. It felt more like a breath washing over the village in a false peace, but peaceful, nonetheless.

Rure woke first, she felt the wind move against her skin—she felt it go through her waking her up with a familiar chill. She sits up to find Kagen to her left, hugging Koharu while Neoru snored softly to her right. She leaves the tent, finding a small campfire darkened nearby, her gaze following the dancing leaves further past the trees. She moves closer, not too far from the others. She catches sight of a winged figure across from her, from where the leaves fall as it hits him.

“You should move past this village without entering. Ignore its existence.” The winged creature moves a step closer, calling the wind to wrap around her leg.

“Why?” Rure calls her power to reveal itself, feeling her palms tingle at the ask.

“It is not what you’re looking for. This village has no place for a shrine maiden.” He snarls, the wind hitting her a little more roughly this time.

The masked winged creature watched Rure’s form, calling the wind to hit back with the same force. He felt calm, she was not a danger to him. He felt it, and he knew she felt the same. He called the wind to retreat, letting her hair fall with waves over her shoulders and away from its tight constraints. His wind reaches down to cover her hand and show him the sigil that caught his eye.

“How many shrine maidens remain alive?” He asks her with a command. Her eyes shine at the thought that they somehow freed him from the winged order.

“I only know of two, me included.” She whispers, watching him move closer. His steps seem to slow down until he stands directly in front of her. Rure was an adventurer, but she was still a female. She appreciated how the three towered over her like a silent promise to keep her safe from their dangerous missions and from herself. Kagen was the tallest of them, this winged creature came in a close second, Neoru seemed about the same height. Rure had to look up to meet his eyes, he stared down at her.

“And how long do shrine maidens live?” He reaches up to grab the flower that fell on her hair when he asked the wind to make her hair flow.

“As long as the circle lives.” She whispers, at the affection he shows her. No different than their other circle members.

“How long do circles live?” He wonders. He was informed about circles, clans, and villages, but had no exposure to the outside world other than his own.

“As the shrine maidens continues to thrive.” Rure closed her eyes, wishing that the wind would begin to warm her, it was getting too chilly. Her insides tugged at the strings at the circle being complete, finally meeting the last member of her circle.

Soon enough, she felt her sigil warm up, the air around them became heated. She sighed in contempt before feeling herself pushed back with a strong wind and into a warm chest.

“Are you okay?” Kagen moves his head closer to Rure, scanning her body from any injury. “Is she okay?” As much as Neoru wanted to stay at her side, he moved in front of them and between the winged creature across from them hoping that they were not late. They woke up to find Rure had left their nest. Koharu was alarmed and had them follow the trail it left. They knew who the winged creature was, they felt it within them. A shift to completion left their insides satiated and comfortable. The feeling of being complete left them in a daze. Their circle was more powerful than ever, the power flowing through their veins felt by each member. A promise of carrying out their roles more plausible more than ever. Neoru looked back at the silence from Kagen to see that Rure was okay and standing beside him, watching them.

“There is no shrine here.” Rure already knew the answer, so she said this with a command that they would still enter his village.

“We have no use of one here.” He tells her, no emotion leaking from the information.

“But I will show you, my village.” He nods towards their tent, signaling for them to pack up. And they did.

Rure and Neoru asked him many questions about his village, who he was, and why he fought with the earth village the other day.

“I was under command, a control I could not bring myself to break until I saw your spirit.” Koharu’s ears perked up at being mentioned.

“I dreamt of this spirit for many days before the village was attacked.” He continued walking beside them, leading them towards his village.

Kagen remained vigilant, the heat from his palms cautious about the state they were entering a winged village. Circle or not, he was a danger, who he is now left his mind. He was more concerned about how he and Neoru could keep them safe, Koharu knew this too. The tension in the air was incredible, Rure could only offer a soft reassuring touch to their sigils, as if saying that everything will be fine. Neoru continues to listen but remain observant of their surroundings as they walk closer towards the village.

Rure couldn’t help but smile at the trust they had placed in her judgement. She only hopes that she does not make the wrong decisions from here. She grabs Koharu from Neoru’s arms and puts Koharu under her hair, hoping that in its smaller form, Koharu won’t be in danger. Safety first of course.

The village was closer to the cliff than she thought. No one other clan has ever been this close to a winged village in centuries. They would be the first few in a long time. Rure held in a gasp at the sight.

The village clung to the cliffs like something grown and natural rather than built, homes were carved into seemingly floating pale stones, bound by bridges of rope and wood that swayed gently with the wind. Clouds covered up the view from below, but the sounds of water falling gave them an idea if they fell. Wind chimes hung from eaves and wing bones polished shiny and with care, smoothen by time. The wind’s soft music replacing the clangor of bells Rure was used to.

No sigils burned into the ground, and no watchful guards demanding reverence. This was a sight that they welcomed wholeheartedly, wondering if this is how each village felt when peace and love were rampant.

Kagen noticed the absence immediately. His hand hovered near his side, restless fire crackling beneath his skin, he spread them out silently, searching for something to resist. Neoru walks over to him, slower than usual, eyes tracing the faces of every villager, no, winged men and women who watched them not with hostility but with a wary patience. He thought it coming from being outsiders, but their fourth sigil knew it came from being misunderstood too many times but not without reason.

They were not welcomed but neither were they chased away.

“This place isn’t under the Order.” Neoru whispered to the two but he could hear them.

Rure already knew but looked up to search the eyes of the winged man who brought them here. Why?

She felt it in the way the wind shifted when she stepped forward, towards the hanging bridge, curiosity hugging her form. She felt it in the quiet stares from the villagers, a different feeling from being an enforced quiet of obedience. It was a careful silence of people who learned that speaking too loudly invited erasure.

They were led higher, toward a natural platform overlooking the clouds that made them feel as if they were walking on clouds. Rure couldn’t help but want to hug it’s inviting comfort. Koharu laughed at Rure’s face before jumping into her arms.

“Clouds are unhuggable, but I am!” Koharu cuddled against her, ruffling up her fur to seem more cloud-like. Rure’s face burned red when she saw the others watching her. Kagen admired how adorable she looked as if a child getting caught stealing sweets. Neoru appreciated that she felt a little embarrassed to show this side of her.

“You fit here.” The winged man bows towards Rure, deepening the burning flame in her cheeks. He walked further away from them, asking them to wait so he could clear the path for them. That was where she saw him again.

He stood with his back to them, wings folded unevenly—one in pristine condition, the other laced with a binding and measures of old repairs. Her heart strings tugged at her sigil. Kagen saw what she did and Neoru felt it even more. Her breath pushing a comforting wind in their direction.

He still wore his mask, but as fractured as before when Rure made it so, a visible crack running through its center like a fault line. When he turned, the wind caught the edge of it, and Rure’s breath stilled.

She remembered how he was in that moment, in the earth village.
The brief fracture.
The scar she saw running down his neck.

She saw that too, in the fire village. She remembered. He was with her when she was dreaming. He was there, following her sleeping form leave the hut she stayed in. He was there.

He knew she figured it out with the way her steps seemed to grow stronger as she walked towards him. Up close, his scar was worse—and more human than she had imagined. Why did she think he would be inhuman? She slowly reached up, removing the thing from his face gentle not to hurt him. The mark ran beneath his left eye, sharp and deliberate, down to the length of his neck where it disappeared beneath the loose rough sleeves he wore.

They realized then that it was not the mark of a disobedient follower. Neither was it a mark of war. It was the mark of refusal.

“You came,” he said, voice steady, unbowed.

Kagen stiffened, “You.” He could recall seeing him when they were children like everything the Mother Spring willed for them to separate and come back to each other with age. His fire recognized him before memory did.

Rure took a step forward before she realized she had moved. “So, this is where you’re from.” Neoru interjects, realizing another childhood friend has come back to meet them. Oh mother Spring, what have you planned.

He nodded once, “what remains of it.”

Slowly he reached up to follow the mark his King left him.

The wind seemed to pause at their reunion. They were all so young, younger than the weight they carried could have suggested. Ther expressions were not as gentle as Rure’s eyes were. But they were honest. There was no reverence with the way they took in the other, they assessed each other as if they were deciding whether truth was worth the cost of being spoken or of what they were about to do. But they were chosen even before their births, so it was only right for them to follow what they were destined for, fighting for freedom and peace.

Another man caught in the order, Rure felt the fracture again, not in the village or masks but between them.

Kagen’s jaw tightened, “You wear their wings but not their loyalty.”

“I wear wings because I was born with them,” he replied. “The Order only taught you to mistake them for allegiance.” Neoru glanced around the village, slowly believing his words knowing that Rure had already fallen for the truth.

That was when an elder appeared behind them. “You were taught to fear us,” she faced Rure, reaching out to touch her hand with the sigil. “Just as we were taught to fear what wings became.”

Rure swallowed, the truth of it all sat heavy in her chest. Their mothers, who must have not known the truth, told them lies. Lies that spread the land, they too were not in the right.

Fire had sacrificed itself to protect the future and lend its energy to bring back the dead. Earth had preserved itself until the future suffocated, releasing only when others could. And the Winged Order—

They had chosen an eternity without consent, a life not their own to live.

Later, when dusk painted the clouds gold and ash, the winged man stood beside Rure who sat admiring the sight at what felt like the cliff’s edge but was really the winged man’s home he welcomed them into. He grew somewhat nervous at the sight of the balcony.

“My name is Aerael,” he said into the quiet comfort. He felt Kagen and Neoru were not far from them. “I was called the king’s certainty once.”

“Were you loyal?” she asked him, watching a napping Koharu on her lap.

Below them, Kagen and Neoru argued in low voices—fire and earth straining against one another, both unsettled by the presence of someone who they once knew fitting neatly but causing confusion into their understanding of the world.

“If you walk with us,” Rure said, “the order will hunt you, your village.”

Aerael’s mouth curved like something he wanted resolved, was finally met.

“They already do.”

She looked at him then as someone who had chosen fracture over false peace. And for the first time, since the journey they began, Rure understood something. That their path was no longer about restoring balance. It was about deciding what balance was worth breaking for.

Aerael wished this moment of peace stayed with them longer but in the land of silence who could be bought, he was angry he let himself forget that people were still scared of the king.

The Fracture of the Winged Order

The attack did not come with warning. He felt betrayed by his skills.

The wind was felt shifting, too sharp and measured. Rure felt it pull against her breath, as if the air inside her was being pulled out to make her suffer. The tug at her body felt deeper.

Aerael moved instantly. “Down,” he said, already turning. The first arrow shattered against stone where Rure’s head had been in a heartbeat earlier. Kagen looks up, his fire igniting a flare of instinct, heat ripples through as winged figures descended from the clouds—masked, uniformed, and controlled. The Winged Order did not charge blindly, but they were fast. They formed ranks midair, sigils burning along their wings like branded scriptures controlled by a mind manipulator.

“They followed you,” Neoru breathed, standing next Aerael after throwing a few blows to the winged soldiers who only moved away but not attacking. Aerael’s jaw tightened in discomfort. They always do. But then he hesitated.

One of the winged soldiers faltered when they landed in front of the certainty. Just one. Their blade did not rise immediately, their gaze flickering from Aerael, to the village behind him. To the children watching from the cliffside. And to the elders who did not run, awaiting their next move. The cloud seemed to be pushed back, and they were at the center of all eyes.

A crack.

“You were told this place was purged,” the soldier said, voice distorted by the hoarseness of battle and mask.

“It was,” came the response from above. “In history, not in truth.”

That was when the fracture spread.

Another winged figure watched the scene of the village, whose home carried a softer environment. One by one the winged figures lowered their weapons. Then another. Their wings trembled with the sigil that kept them fighting. The doubt that had been waiting for years for permission to exist erasing.

But then a voice cut through the air like iron, blade against blade.

“Certainty is treason.”

Aerael stepped forward after watching his circle of companions ready to fight with him.

“No,” he said calmly. “Certainty is choice.”

The commander roared, he struck first.

Fire met wind in a violent clash Kagen leapt forward, flames spiraling into the sky. His fire burned, cutting precise and furious towards the commander, causing him to back midair in attack.

Neoru followed, hands glowing with his earthen light. He slammed his palms into the stone walls of the land. The ground surged upward to form barriers and moving villagers before they could be struck. The effort stole the color from his face, but he did not stop, he needed to do this.

Rure stood between them, shrine bells ringing softly at her waist. It was not a summoning, but she felt the wind bend around her, reluctant to harm her and for a moment the battle slowed as she thought the world was listening. She began to manipulate the wind to move the winged soldiers away from attacking the village.

A winged soldier lunged for her, but Aerael intercepted. His blade did not hesitate. It was not the strike he pulled that shocked Rure, it was what followed.

Instead of finishing the blow, Aerael twisted his wrist, knocking the weapon from the soldier’s grasp and pinning them to the ground without killing the solider. He placed a weighted knee on his back and pulled the soldier’s mask away.

A young face stared back—terrified, relieved, and at the sight of younger winged villagers facing him, he felt ashamed.

“We were told you were monsters,” the soldier whispered with pain.

Aerael’s voice softened, he saw himself many years ago. “They were told the same about you.” Knowing that he only recently went against orders.

That was when the Order truly broke.

With a last swish of wind from Rure, she saw the winged soldiers stare at each other.

Half retreated.
Some turned on their commander and stayed to protect the village.
Others fled, their world now in confusion that could no longer be silenced by whatever means.

The commander vanished into the clouds with those who retreated, wounded but alive.

The silence afterward was heavier than the battle and the villagers stayed looking on.

Kagen extinguished his fire slowly, chest heaving. Neoru sank to one knee with trembling hands. The earth’s magic still humming beneath his skin. Rure rushed towards them.

“You pushed a little too far,” she whispered in front of him.

Neoru smiled faintly, the color in his cheeks slowly coming back. “I stopped before it took everything.”

Aerael watched them, a feeling of longing met his silence.

“You could have killed them,” Kagen said sharply, approaching him from behind.

“You didn’t.”

Aerael met his gaze without flinching, letting go of the young soldier in his hold. “Fire destroys. Earth preserves. Wings decide who falls.” Spoken like a true king.

Kagen said nothing, yet he did not argue.

Later, as dawn came over the cliffs, blessing them with a new day. The village gathered. The elder spoke first.

“The Order no longer speaks for all wings.”

Rure felt the weight of it settle into their history.

Aerael knelt in alignment to the elder’s vision for their winged futures.

“I will walk with you,” he said. “Not as a leader, not as an absolution. But certainty that calls for change.”

Rure extends her hand.
Kagen watched.
Neoru hesitated.
Koharu just yawned, stretching her paws.
Then both nodded.

The path forward was no longer balanced.

It was chosen. They will choose. And somewhere beyond the cliffs, the earth waited with a heaviness of memory being held on to tightly, refusing to be released.