Aiden
The gilded cage had been my prison for far too long. I grew tired of the cooing and fluttering of the beings that came and went. The one who always remained provided the basic necessities of my existence. The one with the wicked smile. I did not understand when she squawked at me, but there were things I could not forget.
I am the bird of rebirth. A phoenix. No matter how long freedom eluded me, I knew that fact deep in my bones. I waited day after day for that rebirth. A day I feared would never come. But, if I could not continue the path I knew I was meant for in this place, I would seek it beyond the confines of this prison. Sometimes, the one would leave the cage open. Today was one such day.
I had grown tired of waiting. It was time now. I would not get another chance. With the one distracted, I stretched my wings and gave them a weak flap. They still worked. The air smelled of burning as my wings flapped, straining to catch a current to carry me free of this confinement. It had been so long since I could fly, it was a marvel I recall the actions necessary. Sky—open and endless—loomed just ahead of me and I beat my wings harder. I was so close.
Pain zipped through my small frame and the sky no longer lay ahead of me. Despite the effort of my wings, and feathers catching warm swells, I plummeted toward the ground. Some part of me, deep down and forgotten, begged for me to close my eyes so I did not witness my painful demise. That deep part of me did not want to see death.
No, it was not I who feared death. It was him. The other. The strange being out of nowhere who now fought for freedom. The ground continued to rush up to meet me, but it took on strange tones as the sharpness dimmed. Gone were the lights and darks of my existence. Now the grass and dirt were shaded in something else. ‘Color’ the other’s mind interjected.
Without warning, I felt the feathers that coated my body recede, replaced by something smooth. The pain that rippled through me as bones and cartilage stretched and expanded robbed me of breath and the stunning glimpses of color turned to blackness.
The jolt of my form connecting with the ground was shock enough to rouse me from the other pain. I blinked, colors flooding my eyes in an overwhelming kaleidoscope. They were still dimmed and dark. I opened my mouth—no longer a beak—to breathe and choked on vile, acrid air. I struggled to move on limbs that had not been used in far too long to support my weight. It was then I noticed the device clinging to my lower right extremity. It shot continual lances of pain through my body, but my relative size appeared to dull the effects. I slumped forward and clawed at the thing to no avail.
The more I labored to breathe, the less I liked my existence in this form. It was too cold and dark. I spat to free my lungs of the putrid tastes, but it did little good. I tried pulling off the thing on my leg—another word this form recalled—again and this time, the jolts jumped to my upper limbs.
“Argh.” Vocalization emitted from my mouth. It had been so long since this form had spoken.
Sounds—high pitched and frantic—called from the direction I had come. This form’s brain knew what they meant: danger and captivity. With every passing second, my brain regained control more and more. My feet remembered how to walk and then run. It was an inelegant manner of movement that propelled me forward and away from the oncoming danger. I gained speed as I crested a hill and I took a leap. For just a moment I felt like I could fly again. The thing on my leg snagged on some branches and I tumbled forward. A fresh smell hit my senses, this one metallic. I looked down to see the skin of this form marred by dark, oozing blood. The device had come loose. I clawed at it again, this time freeing myself from its confines.
The voices grew louder and I took off, running faster and more confident this time into the wild, rolling hills. My arms moved in coordination with my legs and my lungs grew used to the tainted air. This was freedom. My mind knew it and I needed to believe it.
My reflexes were not honed to alert me to the impending perils that lay ahead of me. My foot caught a rough branch and in moments I lay curled in a net suspended above the ground. The strands of the net bit into my flesh.
“Gotcha,” a high-pitched voice said.
“Let … out,” I managed. Language seemed to be the last thing to return.
With a sharp ‘snick’ something flashed above me and the confines dropped away, sending me tumbling back to the ground.
“What do we have here?”
I blinked up at a small creature with pointed ears. Dark smudges marred her flesh. But her eyes shone bright. How I knew it to be a she I could not say. In viewing the ‘she’ I glanced down at my form and realized a distinction. A new concept—or perhaps an ancient one I only just now recalled—overtook me and I covered myself as best I could.
The ‘she’ moved around me, examining me. She prodded the wounds to my flesh and studied the angry marks to my legs. “Damn, I never thought I’d see another one of you. You got a name?”
Her words took a long time to make sense in my mind. It took even longer to find the words to answer. “Aiden,” I said, my voice rough from lack of use.
“Mels.” She bent and put her hand in mine. “Come on. I can take you somewhere safe.”
