Silver Wings

The first time Brazen told her, “I hate you,” Sylvia burst into tears.

They weren’t the gentle kind of tears that flow down rosy cheeks like waterfalls in thin creeks. No, these were ugly, big, and loud, much like Sylvia herself. They collapsed from her eyes like boulders, heading an avalanche of salt water that Brazen flitted away from immediately upon seeing them.

“I love you too, Brazen,” Sylvia chuckled, swinging one of the boulders to the side with a velvet gloved hand. Brazen turned so red that he could have hidden amongst the fibers if he wanted to. Nothing but his angry mutterings would have revealed his secret home.

When she first met the fey, Sylvia would have never dreamed that he would come to care for her. He had been so angry then. Hurt, too. The thought of Brazen trusting any human again, even the one that saved him from those wing snatchers, would have been laughable.

“You’re beautiful when you think,” Brazen muttered, floating up with his half-grown wings and poking her in the cheek. Sylvia scowled and swatting at him, rolling her eyes at the high-pitched giggles that bounced off the snow.

“Shut up. If you’re not careful then everyone will think you actually like me,” Sylvia said. Now it was Brazen’s turn to roll his eyes. He even crossed his arms for good measure, the drama-queen.

“What do you mean? There are always people around here. Besides, if they’re smart enough to believe feys lie, then that’s our fault,” Brazen said as he flew around, circling like his sentence as Sylvia translated it in her head.

There are never people around here. If they’re dumb enough to believe that feys tell the truth, then that’s their fault.

“That’s true I guess,” Sylvia said after untangling the lingual web. Brazen rolled his eyes again and the two kept walking along the stone path to the market. After a few moments, Sylvia saw a tree and sat down at its base, rubbing some blood back into her legs.

“Why do you always walk that far? Aren’t you tired and slow?” Brazen asked, his miniscule mouth twisting at the questions. Sylvia appreciated the thought and appreciated his species more for it. Humans acted like they were superior and virtuous than the foot tall butterflies, but they could lie anytime they wished. Feys only limited themselves to statements.

“The people don’t like me much. I’d rather be here with carefree neighbors than there with their judgmental eyes,” Sylvia whispered, as if they could hear her even there.

“That’s intelligent. You should always let others control your life,” Brazen said, shaking his head. Sylvia laughed, light and free, before standing up once more and continuing.

Eventually, they reached the makeshift bridge that Sylvia had been running across for years. The once proud and mighty oak was now limp with holes dotting its surface. Snow lightly dusted the grey wood as every sniff of the wind threatened to destroy it. There were various other means to cross the deep ravine that separated her from civilization, but the old tree had always been Sylvia’s favorite.

“That looks safe,” Brazen deadpanned. Sylvia shrugged and kept moving. It had lasted her this long, hadn’t it?

Despite her inner confidence, Sylvia was as careful as she could be as she took the first step on the trunk. The wood moaned and railed as it was forced to support her weight, but it quieted down after her foot settled.

“You’re an intelligent person,” Brazen said, circling her head with a red face.

“And you worry too much,” Sylvia giggled. The trunk protested with every step she took, and at one point she thought the breeze would throw her into the frozen river below, but it held firm as she crossed most of the trunk.

She turned back to gloat at Brazen, but instead her eyes locked onto a single snowflake. She did not know why she was drawn to it; it was no more special than the dozens of others, but her eyes traced it as it landed on the fallen tree.

A deep shudder rocked underneath Sylvia’s feet as the weight finally proved to be too much.

“Stay!” Brazen commanded. Sylvia did not wait to untangle the command and instead leapt forward as far as her legs could take her as the trunk began to fall. Half her body slammed into the side of the ravine while the other half floundered for a grip to keep it from following the lost bridge.

“There’s a root to your right!” Brazen screamed, flying through the air in zig zags. Sylvia reached for her left and found the root, gripping it tightly with both hands. Her legs swayed as the wind kissed her from the side, as if congratulating her on her survival.

“Can you pull yourself up?” Brazen asked, darting to the root to check its sturdiness. Sylvia could feel sweat build on her face and her arms burn from wrestling with gravity, but she tried to pull herself up anyway. Little used muscles shook with the attempt and she gave up after a few seconds of futility.

“No, I can’t. You’re going to have to get some help. Do you remember where the village is?” Sylvia asked, wincing as the first snowflakes assaulted her hands.

“No, I can’t remember,” Brazen said with a sharp nod. Before Sylvia could ask for more, Brazen sped towards the north where they both knew the village to be. Sylvia narrowed her eyes at her fogging breath and cursed the trunk for choosing to fall in winter.

She just had to last long enough for Brazen to return. That’s all she had to do. The wind embraced her, undoubtedly trying to boost her confidence, but Sylvia only felt cold.

-

After an eternity, Sylvia saw Brazen flying above her, his red hair carrying in the wind as he floated down onto her shoulder.

“Did you get help, Brazen?” Sylvia asked.

“They believed me,” Brazen whispered next to her ear, his voice clogged with water and despair. “Every single one of them trusted me. Help is coming. I saved you.”

“It’s alright, Brazen, don’t cry,” Sylvia whispered back. “We’ll find a way out of this, trust me.”

She felt Brazen nod against her skin and smiled slightly, ignoring the tears running down her face. Her hands felt numb as snowflakes caressed her fingertips. She imagined them laughing at her for daring to hope. As if they knew the truth all along and were entertained by her ignorance.

Unfortunately, Sylvia was no longer ignorant. She knew the truth now. No help would be coming and Brazen and Sylvia were all alone; just two liars hanging off the side of the world.