Unforeseen Winter

Was it all his fault? Could he have really damned them all?

A cold winter breeze shuttered past Kor, his stark white feathers clasped against his shivering body. The soft tingle of ice nipped at his whitened beak, numbing snowflakes gently sprinkled along his small body. The bitter sharp pain of the cold dragged Kor from his dreams as each flake fell upon his feathers. Even though his wings shielded him from the morning chill, he wasn’t spared from the autumn winds.

Wait, autumn? Kor’s blood-red eyes fluttered open, his head jolting up. What he found left himself bewildered and frozen, not by the cold, but instead by stone cold fear. Everything was stark white, leaving solid ice and snow covering everything in sight. Crows were scattered throughout the trees, some flying overhead, cawing, alerting the others, while few laid in their nests, motionless and dead.

“Kor.” Kiron’s talons snapped onto a nearby branch, landing only inches away.

“What’s happening?" He asked his brother. “Winter shouldn't have come this soon.”

“It doesn’t matter, we must go south.” Kiron motioned his head toward the large flock of crows overhead. “We don’t have a choice, Firak’s orders, besides if we don’t, we die.”

Kor hesitated, gazing over the shivering bodies of his fellow crows. “What about the-”

“None of you will make it through this blizzard. They will only slow us down.” Kiron glanced away, avoiding Kor’s eyes. “I don’t want to leave anyone behind either, but I can't let you die.”

“But…” Kor’s words fell silent, Kiron’s grief-stricken eyes leaving a lump in his throat. “I understand.”

“Let's go,” Kiron said softly, taking off and joining the others.

Kor shuttered at the thought, his fellow crows dying due to their misfortune, unable to wake in time, the sudden storm swallowing their lives away. He had no right to care, yet he did. Kor was naive to think that any of them would’ve had even the slightest hesitation to save him. 

He flapped his wings, launching himself into the air, quickly swooping by branches and leaves alike, joining the circle of crows above. Kor glanced around the forest; the sight more horrifying with every snow-covered tree his eyes passed. Even the dense roost of crows of nearly two hundred was now no more than fifty or sixty.

“We leave now.” Firak bellowed, his voice easily heard by the entire flock. Kor felt a hint of anger surge, the thought of Firak leading them infuriated him. “There will be no place for you if you can’t keep up. If we lose you, then don’t bother coming back.”

Firak's black gaze narrowed on Kor for what seemed like only a second, rashly turning away to lead the group of crows south.

“Nice of you to join us,” Gamira said, a hint of reproach in her voice.

“You too,” he sneered.

“It’d be wise of you if you'd just fall behind and die like the rest, freak.”

Her hiss pierced through Kor, the hate in her voice leaving him speechless, only able to watch as the ageing crow drifted into formation. 

In the center of the flock Kor could spot Kiron flying next to Firak, a sense of dread washing over him. He couldn’t stop his mind from racing, questioning how the weather suddenly shifted, and what it all meant. Kor wanted to know whether he was the only one with these thoughts, or if there were others with similar worries. It was difficult to discern the flock’s concerns when all he saw was hatred directed toward him. In the end, Kor couldn’t avoid losing their trust again, his curse following him everywhere, only ever bringing misfortune.

Kor turned away from his old home and the dreadful remains of the roost, joining the large formation on their first migration. Something they should’ve never had to endure. 

Taboo & Betrayal 

How was it still so cold?

This wretched storm only seemed to worsen as the days went on. Zini could feel her wings aching with each flap of her obsidian feathers. The cold breeze slammed against her thinning body, making the treacherous journey far too difficult.

Zini was in the center of the formation, nearer to the south of the flock. Firak and Kiron strode confidently in the center, switching positions whenever one got exhausted. Their communication was flawless, something to be in awe of, Zini wanted nothing more than to be someone the others could look up to in these dark times.

She scanned the flock, ten fewer since they began their long journey. Ten had been taken by starvation and the cold. Ten, so many, yet their journey had still no signs of ending. How long would she be able to survive? Zini pushed the thought aside and mustered the strength she needed to press on.

To her right, the unmistakable, lean body of Kor caught her attention. Though shivering, along with the rest of them, his scarred body seemed to be unaffected and steadfast, easily comparable, or even more so than his elder brother and even Firak. Zini had never noticed how strong he was before, yet why would she have, he was an outcast. She never understood why, but the rest of the roost had always believed strange superstitions involving Kor. Believing that due to his white feathers and red eyes he was cursed. Though none of it made any sense to her, she always avoided him, for the sake of her stature in the roost.  

"You shouldn't be looking at that thing, you could be next,” Gamira said.

“If he’s such a nuisance, why not just abandon him, or kill him?” Zini asked. “Scared to get cursed? Or just scared of what Kiron would do? Kor isn't at fault for the laws of nature. Get a grip.”

“What?” Gamira snapped. “You should tread carefully how you speak of that freak, Zini, wouldn’t want your pretty face plucked. Besides, Firak will deal with the outcast, he’ll save us from this curse. With or without Kiron”

Zini wanted to protest, pry deeper into what she meant, but Gamira veered off, obviously finished with their conversation. What did Firak have planned? Zini felt the thought dig away at her, leaving her dreading what was to come. 

◭ ◭ ◭

Nightfall was all but inevitable, which Zini relished in. She followed the flock, landing on a snow-covered branch. They were quick to scavenge the foliage, traversing the trees and ground for any signs of food. It was the same thing every night, a scattered mess of birds searching blindly as if they’d never get a chance to eat again, which could undoubtedly come true.

In an instant, the black shadow of a crow perched himself next to Zini. “Relax for too long and you'll miss out on dinner, can't let that happen, now can we?” Kiron chuckled.

“I know, I know,” Her eyes darted away from him and briefly met Kor's, who quickly averted her gaze. The words of Gamira dwelled in her mind, even now it still bothered her. “You shouldn’t forget to eat either.”

Kiron glanced down at her, his watchful eyes pausing for a long moment before speaking again. “If anything's troubling you, please let me know… won’t you?”

“Of course,” The words that left her beak felt weighted, they might as well have been lies.

◭ ◭ ◭

Zini’s eyes jolted open to the sound of hushed voices. She lurched up, the calm night’s breeze unreal compared to the treacherous blizzards of late, though it was still far too cold for only being autumn. She shook her head, forcing away the grogginess of her sleep. 

Muffled noises, barely audible from where she stood caught her attention once again. Zini quietly snuck through the branches, remaining grounded. She peered around a dead tree, eavesdropping in on the commotion below. At the base of the trunk, Zini was able to make out five figures, Kiron, Firak, Gamira, and two others.

“Your brother must leave,” Gamira said. An outrageously blunt statement, even for her.

“What did you just say?” Kiron growled, his eyes narrowing on each member of the group. “I’ve told you all one too many times already to leave Kor alone. What more must I-”

A quick flick of Firak’s talon startled Zini. His sharp-clawed feet dug deep into Kiron’s face, the warm crimson blood running down his beak. As if on cue the two other crows launched into action, pinning Kiron down to the ground, each of their talons plunged into his wings and feet.

“Just shut up already,” Firak hissed. “I’ve heard enough from you as is, I’m sick of it. You're too blind to see the truth. This is all Kor’s fault, he is the reason why we are all dying, how have you not noticed by now? I didn't want it to come to this."

A shiver crawled down Zini’s spine. She knew Kiron was in danger, but yet she remained silent. Why? What was she going to do? She could’ve, no should’ve done something earlier, if Zini tried interfering now, she would only get herself killed. Even if she alerted every other sleeping crow and informed them what was happening, how many would agree to the treachery and side with Firak? There would be bloodshed, a civil war. There was only one thing she could do. 

Storm of Blood

A stern nudge forced Kor from his restless sleep. 

“Kor, get up. Kiron’s in danger.”

His heart pounding as the hushed words began to process in his mind. 

“What are you talking about?” Kor snarled, baring his talons toward the young crow. Her uniquely dark blue eyes softly meeting him, full of sincerity. 

Zini patted her wing against Kor’s beak. “Quiet, don’t wake anyone up and follow me. Quickly.” 

Was it some sort of sick prank intended to deceive him, or was Kiron truly in danger? He needed to be wary, nothing would shock him giving his statues with the others.

“Wait-” His half-hearted attempt to stop her fell short, she was already on the move. 

Kor hesitantly followed close behind Zini, keeping a watchful eye on her. The branches rustled with each step they took, his eyes darting to the others as if they’d wake at any moment.  

A cool breeze, much stronger than earlier in the night slammed against their bodies, suddenly lurching the trees, nearly offsetting their balance. The flapping of wings echoed around them and disappeared just as quickly. The growing fog made it all the more strenuous to spot anything that was even a few feet away. 

Zini stopped along the outer treeline. “Down at the trunk,” she whispered, her quivering voice breaking as the words escaped her beak. 

Kor squinted, trying his hardest to focus on the jumble of figures below. There seemed to have been some sort of struggle, Zini’s words repeating in his head. Kiron, where was he? 

“What are you saying?” It was his brother's voice, harsh and enraged, unlike anything Kor had heard before. 

“Let us kill him, and you’ll live. If not, we’ll be forced to kill you.''

Firak’s voice sent an unrivalled spark of rage throughout Kor’s body. His body acting before he could think, lunging toward the figures, his wings spread wide and talons bared. 

“Wait,” Zini shouted, a fruitless attempt to stop him, he was already committed. Kor couldn’t let his brother die. 

“You rat, release him,” Kor cawed. His voice echoed across the treetops and throughout the forest, the bellow making his presence known to the figures below.

Firak and the others materialized into sight. Him and two others stood above Kiron, pinning him to the snow-covered ground. Blood leaked through many open gashes on his wings and face. Firak was quick to react, launching his wings outward, throwing his goons off balance and rearing backward, shoving Kiron in front of the blow. 

It all happened too quickly, Kor couldn’t stop himself. Sharp talons pierced feather and flesh, warm blood seeped and soaked his feet. Screams of agony left Kiron’s lungs; the cries of pain tore Kor apart. His brother's dark brown eyes, cold and empty, stared through him. 

In a quick flash, Kor was slung into a tree, one of Firak’s talons embedded into his feathers and flesh, blood dripping from the wounds and onto the snow. 

“How could you kill your own brother,” Firak snarled. “You all saw it,” He shouted, looking up in the trees, Kor followed his gaze, meeting all the remaining crows, all awake, all glaring down at them. “He killed his own brother. He killed our beloved Kiron, we should have gotten rid of him long ago.” 

“Kill the freak.” 

“Rip his throat out, Firak.”  

“Damn you,” Kor shouted, slicing his talons across Firak’s beak, just barely scraping the hard keratin as he quickly stepped back, releasing the tight grip in Kor’s wing. “I’ll kill you.” 

“Tear him apart-” 

“How are you all so blind? It was clearly Firak, he got Kiron killed,” Zini screamed, cutting through the commotion. “Firak's the one to blame, he's the one who should die.” 

Kor glanced down at the still corpse of his brother. The flapping of wings and screeching of crows all became numb to him. Arguments, which quickly shifted into fighting seemed to ensue all around him, two sides fighting against each other, deceit and manipulation, the core of it all. One fighting for Firak’s lies and the other for Kiron’s justice. 

Blood poured onto the ground and bodies slammed into the soft snow below, but all Kor cared about was revenge. 

“You ruined everything,” Gamira growled, scraping Kor’s face, Blood clouding half his vision, the attack catching him off guard. 

Swiftly without a sound, Kor spun around, grappling her neck with one of his talons. He mustered all the strength he could to force himself into the air with his one wing before slamming down his weight onto her throat. The sound of heavy gagging and choking was the noise that left her beak. 

“Your brother was an idiot,” Fiark said, rushing forward. 

They grappled onto each other, clawing, pecking, and throwing each other all across the snow-covered ground. Even with one active wing, Kor was able to keep up with Firak’s speed, which was fortunate, or he’d be dead long ago. Blood poured from newly opened gashes, slowly trickling down their bodies. The violence encircling them was numb and distant. 

“Just stay put,” Firak shouted, soaring toward Kor with sharp talons. 

Kor, nearly too slow, avoided the attack, slamming his wing into the leader's face and grappling his chest. In a moment he found himself perching over the exhausted, panting body of Firak. 

“You damned rat-” Kor began, his sentence cut short as he was struck in the head by something hard and cold, shattering on contact. 

Everything was a blur, but he could vividly make out the sound of pained chuckling, “seems we are both dying here tonight,” Firak said, almost blissfully. “At least I was able to see you die with my own eyes, Kor.” His voice violently twisting as he spoke the name.

Kor squinted through heavy eyes, noticing dark storm clouds above, engulfing the forest in snow and fog. Was this really the end? 

“Kor.” A frantic shout jolted through him. “Kor, stay with me.”

It was Zini, she appeared into vision, her features still a blur but clearly bleeding from the side. Kor felt her talons as she grabbed hold of his wings. The next moment he opened his eyes, he was shielded inside a tree trunk, soft wings covering his wounded body. He was only able to spot Zini sleeping over him before everything went dark. 

Last Winds of Autumn

Zini brushed her beak against Kor's head, "how are you feeling?" 

The white crow murmured softly, slowly opening his eyes. His bloodied body smeared red over a white canvas of feathers. Small tattered plumages lay messily in the wood and bark foliage, Kor in the center of it all. 

He lifted his head, struggling through heavy breaths to open his beak. “What hap-happened? Where is Kiron. . . why-why even save me?” 

“I-I don’t know. Everything happened too quickly.” Zini turned away, glancing outside at the passing storm, small rays of light shining through. “I just couldn't allow you to die.” 

Kor shifted, slowly struggling to get up. He grunted loudly, tumbling over once again, his body trembling.

Zini rushed to his side, brushing her wings around his cold body. “Just stay put, please. The storm will pass soon, I’ll find leaves and food aft-”

“Shut up” Kor shouted, pushing her away. “I didn’t ask for you help, I-” He fell to the ground once again, sobbing softly, his red eyes drifting along with the snow below. “I don’t have anything left.” 

Zini gently embraced Kor, his soft feathers weaving rhythmically with each sob. “You do. You lived. We lived. You and I both know that Kiron would want you to continue to do so. Don't lose hope.”

Kor glanced up, locking eyes with her. “Lived? What are we to do now? We can’t survive in this weather. What are we going to do, we don’t even have a flock anymore? Where is this hope?” 

“We’ll find another flock if we need to. We'll survive by any means possible, if that's what it takes,” Zini said softly. “if we can't stay here, we'll just go south, south until there is no cold left.” She lightly grazed her feathers across his, “let’s survive, together. 

Kor wiped his face across Zini’s feathers, washing his tears away, gazing into her eyes with determination. “Alright, I believe you, I'll trust you. Let’s live. Let’s get through this hell together.”