Wings Of The Foretold

Departure

Stepping out of the bedroom was a hard thing to do. Slowly I walked down the ornate hallways towards the throne room where my father would be waiting. The walls were old, framed photos and paintings of our lineage lined the walls with the occasional armored guard posted along the halls. A sad smile lit my face as I passed a framed painting of myself as a newly born with my mother. I wanted to remember the castle as it was.

Suddenly as I drew closer to the throne room relization began to set in. Just a few yards ahead my father waited to inform me of my departure to his patrons mannor. With my headache far behind me and Rowan's Mana flowing through my body I felt invigorated and far less hopeless about my current situation at hand. I tried to think of it as more of a learning experience than a death sentence.

The castle seemed empty of life which was strange for this time of day but I welcomed it. I needed time to mentally prepare myself for the worst so that hopefully when it all happened I could say it wasn't as bad as I thought, which seemed like a good plan. More so when I started, but going over all the worst possible scenarios in my head was driving my anxiety through the roof. I took in a deep breath, my hands shaking as I reached for the old oak doors to the throne room. Without a second thought I pushed the doors open, convincing myself I was ready to face my father and my inevitable future away from everyone and everything I've ever known.

I hadent even been able to place one step into the throne room before my father was briskly escorting me by the arm, rather roughly at that, back down the hallway I had just come from.

"Another minute longer and I would have walked down to your rooms to get you myself. What on Earth kept you so long?" He demanded, tightening his grip on my arm, causing me to cringe before opening my mouth to respond but was cut off before I could take a breath.

"Nevermind, that's not important," he huffed. "Leroy's private jet has been here 30 minutes already and his staff have long since grown impatient waiting on you. I'd suggest we get down there as quickly as possible so you can apologize profusely and then be on your way."

"Yes dearest father, I shall miss you terribly as well.” I said with as much malice and sarcasm as I could muster, wrenching my arm from his grip and rubbing the place where his fingers had dug in above the elbow.

"Oh quit acting like a child.” Father ground out. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at that.

"In case you have forgotten, I am a child." I stated icily. “Last I checked 16 years old was not an adult." My father actually rolled his eyes at that one.

I could tell he was nervous by the way he kept trailing his finger across his ring. From what I understood it was his father's, a relic from the days before the colonization, when all our people were all pure bloods. They had lived in peace among one another in our own lands. The ring was a royal heirloom that had been passed down from father to son for generations stretching farther back then our own colonisation to these lands.

I had to mentally chide myself for acting like a spoiled brat. Of course my father would miss me, I was his only son after all, the sole successor to the last line of royalty the fatu people had. Sure he had plenty of daughters before he was arranged with my mother and had me then later my younger sister. But for a long time he had no one to pass down that heirloom to, and it must have worried him for years as he was getting older that maybe he would never have a son and that our lineage would die with him. He used to tell me all the time the story of how he found out my mother had given birth to a son, after their arrangement by his and her Anukah. How overjoyed and nervous he was knowing that he would soon have a baby to take care of. A son. Someone to pass down his knowledge to.

I couldn’t imagine not being his son. Life would be much different if I was a female. Female fatu are traditionally raised with their mothers and son's are sent to their fathers. Because of this I've only ever met my sister and mother on few occasions. Seeing them more often was something I was quite set on. I was hopeful that my patron, whoever it ended up being, would be willing to let me see them.

Stoping my thoughts and tuning back into reality, I quickened my pace to walk shoulder to shoulder with father. As we approached the massive castle doors my anxiety set in. I couldn’t stop my mind from racing, and my palms began to sweat. I glanced at my father, taking in his stony expression and suddenly wishing that I had Rowen with me instead of him. A small pang of guilt hit me at the thought but I didn’t care enough to dwell on it.

Rowen was honestly more of a father than my own had been. At least he shows me emotion. I thought. Unlike you.

It wasn’t long now. Two guards along with some of my fathers servants and the maid who entered my rooms pushed open the doors for us to pass through. I met their eyes as I passed, nodding politely, and they in turn went down into small bowes and curtsies. All except the young maid who was in my rooms earlier, she gave me an expression that I could only describe as pure hatered. I almost tripped on my way out the doors in my shock, what had I done to deserve that look? I hadn't even touched her. I mentally shook myself, if she wanted to hate me, fine. What was the hatred of one mousie haired maid anyway. She didn't know me, and after today would never have to see me again.

Outside of the air-conditioned palace walls the mid July heat was oppressive, and the bright rays of the mid day sun burned my eyes. I lifted my hand to block them out, and took one last look of the home I would be leaving behind. Large fir trees lined the paved rounded driveway that circled around a marble fountain that matched the white stone statues of fatu women in flowing dresses with their wings spread wide in an almost protective and maternal gesture. I had only ever seen my mother's wings once when I was 8 years old. There was something extraordinarily breathtaking about it, I’d never be able to forget the image of the silken feathers.

Was she thinking of me, wishing to see me? I didn’t know, I couldn’t know unless I am able to get in contact with her once my Patron has me in their grasp. I gasped, my foot kicking a rock and throwing me off balance for a moment. My father turned his cold look to me, placing his hand at my elbow and straightening me. He quickly escorted me across the grounds leading toward the flight hanger. I was still rather small compared to him, something I knew disappointed him, but along with everything else about me that disappointed him, my size was something I could care less what he thought of.

As we approached Leroy's private jet I found myself wanting desperately to beg and plead for my father to reconsider, to not send me today, to make an excuse about anything, just dont send me away. The only thing keeping from trying was knowing that my pleads would fall on deaf ears. I would only succeeded in solidifying his view of me as meek, pitiful and helpless. Besides that, even if he did care enough to try and stop it from happening, it was something that was out of his control.

We are fatu, we have no control over our own lives, no more control than the humans have over theirs. With that somber thought permeating through my conscience I took one last look at my home and my fathers cold expressionless face. Maybe when all this is over, I thought. You will have a son you can be proud of. And with that I turned without even a goodbye, and boarded the jet.