Olor
“When the bird of the heart begins to sing, too often will reason stop up her ears.” Hans Christian Andersen
* * *
“There’s Olor.” Kaede pointed to the large blue-green planet they were rapidly approaching.
It was beautiful, but she would’ve preferred to stay in their quarters as they made the final approach. What she wouldn’t give for a few more kisses, a last heated caress. Cygne focused on the broodmates’ reflections in the observation window, instead of the looming planet.
Kaede, Akiva, Tynan, Meir and Severin. She silently said their names, attempting to memorize the things she’d miss; encouraging words, compelling eyes, ever protective strength, warm welcoming smiles, gruff gentleness.
“Cygne, you’ve been quiet all morning. Are you feeling well?” Severin asked in concern.
“We didn’t hurt you, did we?” Tynan scowled as he ran a calloused hand over her cheek.
She couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. Try as she might to repress it, looking into Tynan’s usually serious face, now twisted in concern, made tears well up in her eyes.
“We did hurt you. We pushed you too soon into accepting us,” Tynan snarled angrily, casting an accusing glare at his broodmates.
“No.” Cygne gave them a wavering smile. “I’m worried about what’s going to happen when we land. I’ve enjoyed being here with you, and—” Her voice broke as she started to cry.
Tynan pulled Cygne into his lap and held her tight. “Shhh, shhh, shhh,” he whispered, sounding devastated.
“It’s going to be all right. You’ll love Olor,” Severin encouraged.
“It won’t be like Braccio, where you were mistreated,” Kaede promised.
“And everyone will adore you,” Akiva added.
But what about you? They were the only ones she cared about.
She curled up in Tynan’s strong arms and gripped him tight, desperately trying to hold onto the moment. But too soon they were heading toward the loading bay, and exiting the ship. Cygne pulled her emotions into herself, like she had her whole life. Except this time it was harder. She’d let her barrier down the last few days. Building it back up again was like tearing a piece of her heart out.
“Don’t pick at your feathers.” Cygne didn’t realize she was doing it, until Akiva said something.
She held her breath as the broad doors on the Sejle opened to reveal a massive hangar. Before the males surrounded her, she caught a glimpse of Kaede’s five fathers waiting on the landing pad. Cygne stood up straight, her wings held back, chin up, as they walked down the ramp.
“It’s good to see you, fathers,” Kaede greeted the five males.
“And it’s good to see you, sons.” The male with variegated blue wings hugged Kaede, wearing a proud smile. The instant the old male caught sight of her, his eyes widened. “I should’ve known, by the way you males exited the Sejle, that a female stood amidst your pinions.” The male studied her intently. She was inclined to look away, but didn’t.
“This is Cygne, Father. I understand you and the Matrons have probably already vetted countless—”
“It’s not so simple anymore,” the old male cut Kaede off.
“We’ve learned what your aunt and cousin have been up to since we talked last,” another red-winged male interjected. He too was surprised when he saw her.
“Velifico convinced the council of Legion Matrons that he should be permitted to compete for the right of Ascension.”
“I knew it,” Akiva muttered under his breath.
“Explain,” Kaede demanded.
“You know everything passes through the female line, since your mother bore only you before she passed on, there was no female heir.”
“Yes, I know this. But what is Velifico’s angle? My aunt never had any females either,” Kaede growled.
“They convinced the Matrons that because of this fact, you and your cousin stand on equal ground, and should compete for the position of Legion Drakes, as if you were courting the Gallina,” Kaede’s red-winged father replied.
“We were under the impression the Matrons were appeased, since they’re vetting suitable candidates for you and your broodmates. But apparently your aunt argued that the chosen female would be just as well suited for Velifico and his broodmates. Sadly, she has a point.” The blue-winged father shook his head.
“Their argument is valid, and we can see no way around it,” the other male agreed morosely.
“Except Velifico is a moron. He couldn’t lead a battalion of our warriors out of a grain sack.” Kaede ran a frustrated hand through his short, dark hair.
“And that, along with the competition, will work in your favor.”
“Tell Kaede the rest,” a rainbow-winged father urged.
The blue-winged father sighed in frustration, running his hand through his hair, much like Kaede did.
“What is it?” Kaede growled.
“Even if—no—when you all win the competition, the Legion Matrons demanded final veto power over the female candidate.”
“And since my aunt is one of the Matrons, I’m certain she’ll do her best to guarantee our voice is ignored, just to spite me.”
“But don’t forget, as the Drakes, we still have a vote and a strong voice with the council of Matrons,” Kaede’s father added.
“I need a moment,” Kaede rumbled.
“Don’t be long. We have a gathering you are expected to attend.”
“This changes everything,” Kaede snarled as he turned toward her and the broodmates. She could see his mind was working over the problem as he stared at her, then considered the other males.
“Fittich,” Tynan cursed.
Cygne stayed silent. She didn’t really understand what was going on. There was clearly a power struggle between Kaede and his cousin, and there would be a competition. But it also sounded like there was some sort of contest among females who were vying for the future leaders. A part of Cygne was soothed knowing the broodmates didn’t have a particular female waiting here on Olor.
“I have an idea,” Kaede announced. “Shield Cygne from view.”
Tynan picked her up and wrapped her in his sheltering wings. She heard the broodmates’ murmured arguing, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Several moments later, she was passed from Tynan’s variegated wings into a pair of arms and wings she didn’t recognize. Cygne started to tremble as she heard the muffled voices of her broodmates get further away.
“Be at ease,” the strange voice crooned as he walked.
Cygne attempted to relax, but she didn’t know what was happening to her. She didn’t even have a chance to tell the broodmates goodbye, before she was whisked away.
Kaede’s colorful father eventually released Cygne. She looked around the ornately decorated corridor, but her males weren’t following.
“What is happening?” she stammered.
“I’m sorry, little one, but we don’t have much time to explain,” the blue-winged male spoke. “When you see Kaede and his broodmates again, you must act as if this is the first time you’ve met. But in everything else be honest and be yourself. Do you understand?”
Cygne didn’t, but she nodded anyway as they walked down the hall and turned a corner.
“Drakes.” A male wearing a dark uniform and an array of knives greeted Kaede’s fathers with a bow.
“Svane, please escort Cygne to the females’ quarters.”
The guard stared at her for a moment, then seemed to remember himself. “Yes, of course, Drakes. This way.”
She watched Kaede’s fathers walk away, feeling doubly lost.
“Come along,” Svane urged.
Cygne followed the guard through a maze of halls and up several levels. She was entirely turned around by the time he stopped in front of a large wooden door.
“Here are the females’ quarters, where you’ll stay. If you need anything, Anitra can assist you.” Svane knocked on the door.
A y
oung female with lovely sunny yellow wings and long flaxen hair answered the door.
“Greetings.” The female smiled shyly.
“Anitra, this is Cygne,” Svane began.
“Not another candidate!” someone groused inside.
Cygne looked past Anitra into the cavernous lounge occupied by a dozen Olor females. The pale-winged speaker stood with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. The females standing beside her didn’t look any more impressed.
“Come in, I was just told to expect you,” Anitra said shyly. “Thank you, Svane.”
“Good luck,” Svane muttered, before leaving.
Cygne followed Anitra into the ornate lounge.
“I need to find you something appropriate to wear for your meeting with the Matrons,” Anitra fretted. “Um, maybe you can meet the others.”
“Wait, she’s going to meet the Matrons? Now? I thought they were at a family gathering with the Drakes,” the same pale female asked.
“Yes, Cygne wasn’t able to arrive till now. Her presence was requested by the Drakes.” Anitra nervously glanced at the females then back at Cygne, before hustling out of the room.
“I’m Cygne,” she introduced herself.
“Yes, we heard,” the pale female snapped.
Cygne studied the surly female. She had wings nearly as white as Cygne’s, but they were shot with a bit of green near her shoulders. In fact, all the females in the room were nearly colorless. Anitra was the most colorful among them, and even her pinions were a paler shade of yellow than the Braccio females Cygne was familiar with. The broodmates were right, Olor females were dull, although they used much kinder words.
“What are your names?” Cygne asked the others, ignoring the cranky one.
“I’m Tristis,” the pale female huffed. “Roso, Addolo, and Deprime.” Tristis waved to the females closest to her. “I really don’t remember who these others are, but they don’t matter, because they’ll be out of the running soon enough.”
Roso, Addolo and Deprime started laughing, while the other females just scowled at the group. She now understood why Svane said good luck. This was a nest of vipers.
“So, she gets to meet the broodmates before the rest of us?” Deprime asked. Deprime looked similar to Tristis, but her pale wavy hair had strands of fiery red running through it.
“That’s unfair!” Addolo declared, the blue tips of her wings vibrating.
“I once saw Akiva. He’s the sexiest broodmate,” Roso trilled.
“You think everyone is sexy,” Tristis snarked. “Now, you want to talk about sexy, that big strapping Tynan is the one. I saw vids of when he used to fight professionally.”
The females’ eyes swiveled toward Cygne, and she realized she was growling, like a saber-toothed rigellor. She didn’t like the way they spoke about the broodmates, not at all.
“What? Do you think you have a chance?” Tristis stepped toward Cygne.
“Um, everything is ready,” Anitra interrupted, before things got ugly. “Follow me, please.”
“Great. It feels like I’m back at the tavern already,” she muttered as she followed Anitra into a large dressing room.
“They’re just jealous. Before you arrived, they believed they were the lead candidates. I’m sorry, I couldn’t find anything nicer for you to wear on such short notice.” Anitra looked terribly ashamed for some reason. “We’ll just fix you up a bit. Sit here, please.”
“I like this gown. It should be fine.” Cygne paused as something Anitra said struck her. “Wait. I’m one of the candidates?”
“Yes. Why else do you think you’re here?” Anitra urged her into a chair.
“I was just brought here. I didn’t realize,” Cygne murmured as Anitra started brushing her hair.
“Oh. That seems strange.”
Was this what Kaede planned? She nearly teared up. Maybe there is a chance for us. But her hopes quickly fell as Cygne realized she now had to compete for the males she felt were already hers.
“Anitra, this is a competition, right?” Cygne asked nervously.
“Well, yes, sort of.”
“What kind of competition?”
“Those candidates think it’s all about whose the most beautiful or fashionable, but it’s not. Although you certainly have them beat in that department.”
“Thank you.” Cygne smiled nervously.
“But the Matrons will want to know all about you. Since you aren’t the natural born heir, they want to assure you’ll make a suitable Gallina.”
“Gallina?”
“Yes, the prime ruler of the Legion.” Anitra, who’d refused to make eye contact up till now, looked at Cygne strange.
“Ah, yes, of course. I’m from very far away,” she quietly added.
Cygne recalled the Drakes mentioning leadership passed through the female line, but she didn’t realize the Gallina was the chief ruler alongside the Drakes. There was no way she could compete for such a position. She knew nothing of the Olor, or the Legion they ruled.
“What is wrong, Cygne?” Anitra asked when she started to hyperventilate.
“I don’t think I can do this. The only thing I have going for me is my looks.” It sounded ludicrous to say out loud. “This is so crazy. What am I going to do?”
“Don’t say that. I’m sure you will do fine. You can’t do any worse than that brood in there. Besides, it’s not the end of the world if you don’t mate a bunch of broodmates you’ve never met. You probably have a legion of males chasing you,” Anitra encouraged her with a kind smile.
“You don’t understand.” Cygne’s chin quivered.
“Please don’t cry. You’ll do fine. You’re already so much nicer than those females.”
Cygne nodded and blinked back her tears.
You can do this. You have to. This was her only chance to be with her broodmates.
13
The Inquisition
“How little do the wisest among us know of that which is so important to us all.” Hans Christian Andersen
* * *
“Thank you for helping me calm down, and doing my hair and face, Anitra,” Cygne said as they walked down a long hall.
Besides the broodmates, no one had ever pampered her like that. It was very relaxing.
“I can’t believe you never played with coloring your lips and eyes as a fledgling.” Anitra shook her head in disbelief.
“I had a weird upbringing.” That was the only simple explanation.
They reached a set of doors flanked by a pair of dark-uniformed guards and Cygne stiffened up.
“Don’t worry,” Anitra whispered as the guards opened the doors.
That’s easier said than done.
“Greetings.” Cygne nodded and cast the guards the bravest smile she could muster as she stepped into the room.
The chatter of voices instantly ceased. Cygne panned the quiet crowd then stopped when she saw Kaede’s approaching fathers. Beyond them stood her broodmates. Her heart leapt, then instantly remembered she was supposed to pretend they didn’t know each other.
“Who is this, Nicht?” inquired a female with pale brown hair and streaks of yellow snaking through her pinions.
“We had a candidate arrive late, Calesse,” Kaede’s blue-winged father replied. “May I introduce Cygne.”
“This is rather unorthodox, considering the Courting Ceremonies begin in the morning.” Calesse frowned.
“I think we can make an exception,” commented a young iridescent-winged male, flanked by equally colorful friends.
The way they looked her up and down made Cygne take a step back.
“Hush, Velifico. You know you’re not supposed to meet the candidates before tomorrow. Go stand with your cousin and his broodmates.”
“Of course, Mother.”
So, this is the aunt and cousin I heard about.
Velifico, walked away with his broodmates. They didn’t join Kaede, but Calesse seemed appeased.
“I realize it’s l
ate, but I have it on good authority this female is an exceptional candidate.”
Cygne glanced at Nicht in surprise, then smiled. The broodmates must have shared that. It sounded like something they’d say.
“She is rather stunning when she smiles and stops looking like a lost fledgling. I’ll allow it.” Calesse waved imperiously and walked toward a gathering of older females.
“It is a pleasure to formally meet you, Cygne. I am Nicht, however, you must remember to refer to me as Drake in public.”
“I am Ehren,” Kaede’s red-winged father introduced himself. “That’s Lagois and Flanke.” Ehren gestured to the males over his shoulder, who nodded. “We’ve been briefly apprised of your unique situation, but please understand, as much as we’d like to circumvent this process, we are honor bound to abide by our traditions.”
“I understand and appreciate your help.” Cygne nodded. Kaede’s fathers were kind enough to manipulate circumstances, so she was included as one of the candidates, but that was all the help they could offer.
“I’m Regen,” the rainbow-winged father added, as they approached the group of females. “And this is the council of Legion Matrons.”
“Greetings.” Cygne bowed.
“That is an unconventional bow, with the way you crossed your wings,” one female noted.
So, the critique begins. This was her worst nightmare come to life.
“And your accent is unusual.”
Really? Cygne didn’t realize she had an accent. Braccio was outside Legion territory, but they still spoke the same universal language. Don’t be nervous. Just speak to them. Although having something as simple as the way she spoke criticized from the start, made opening her mouth daunting. And it didn’t bode well for the rest of the evening. Don’t just stand here. Say something!
“I am from rather far away,” Cygne replied.
“I am Belni. Have a seat.” A much older, all white female pointed to a chair, and Cygne sat. “This is Jovana, and Lori.” Belni introduced the other Matrons.
“Where exactly are you from?” old Lori questioned with a wave of her gnarled fingers.
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