Thick Thighs & High Tides | P6: Heart Shaped Arrows in the Nigidesh (FINALE)
With the tides as high as the sun, the times the nude lovers knew were long gone, replaced with strife and worry. But when the sun sets, it will always rise again.
The last in the series. All credit to the characters, as usual, goes to BassyBefuddle. You can take a look at his upload here:
https://www.sofurry.com/view/2138893
Please enjoy.
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Part 6
Heart Shaped Arrows in the Nigidesh
I walked.
I walked through ruin. Through wretch. I walked because there was nowhere else to go. Huge clouds made everything gray, like an endless gasping shadow. Where I thought I was going was nowhere I'd hoped. If anything, this was twice as desolate. Only a few thousand paces brought me to something tarnished and fucked. Sweat and smoke poisoned the air, a thick tar filling my throat. Every step crunched under my bare feet with the rubble of statues and homes, pieces of wood chips matted with blood. Giant black claws curling out of the ground for trees. What few avin were here cooped themselves inside makeshift bunkers and barriers. Some were hunched into deep trenches. Gripping their weapons like toys when a child goes to bed.
And all of them were looking at me.
I was frantic for something to wear—anything—I was beyond desperate. All I could find was a few tattered pieces of dusty curtains. Rubble rolled off as I picked them up. It was barely enough to fill the space between my legs. My nipples had nothing. The dread I felt was death itself in the stomach. A storm of roars over the hills and through the valleys reminded me I could be killed from a mere accident. I was back here again, somehow realer than before, tripping, falling, knee first, keep going, please keep going, don't tell me it's all about to end.
A hot whirlwind of stirring knives boiled in my stomach. It was the realization that this was why Gael freaked out in the cloud forest. He thought he was looking at the smoldering remains of Oanta. Too early to walk away, but too late to make excuses. He'd have to break down and explain every detail to me before confronting it like this. I shuddered. By impulse, I thought of asking him. I shuddered harder.
I needed him. I remembered his warmth and somehow felt colder. The soldiers saw me, stopped and stared. I could feel their eyes. A warhorn of stress charged through my veins and refused to stop. It's like I was being destroyed from the inside out. They hunched down behind their barricades and trenches, watching me, no words out their open mouths. I wanted to cry. I was an object. Swords and spears hit the soil. Arrows buffeted the ground by my feet, but nobody would flinch. Nobody except me. Was I an infiltration? Did they not see the ground? No. All they saw was me. And somehow, in a blur, they all looked like Gael.
I was broken, stressed out, dying of humiliation. My head was pounding. Hide. Hidehidehidehidehide! I need clothes! I was sprinting, my arms pumping! Help! HELP! SOMEBODY! SOMEBODY HELP ME!
My eye caught the remains of a crumbled home! A rectangle of sticks poked out of the ground before it. There, a gazebo was under its hanging rooftop, too dark to see inside. I swore the pen was littered with brown feathers. Underneath it looked like traps. Old ropes.
I sat down in the gazebo's shadow and opened my legs, facing the structure's other side. My head was raging. I'm so tired of being helpless. My hips pushed out until my back was against the seat. The wood creaked. Before I knew it, my hand was rapidly circling. It was so disgusting, but I didn't care. My pussy was all I had anymore. This cursed, always crying slit making every sensation a threat, confusing my emotions! That's all I was! Why hadn't the forest blessed me with wings? Where was Phyris? Where was the Oanta I was promised?! Why was Gael in every place I looked?! I felt impaled from the feet to the head! I felt—no—I was crippled and abominable, I was! Ugh! If anyone saw and killed me in disgust, it'd be relief! I didn't care! JUST TAKE ME! SAVE ME FROM THIS—
“Are you lost?"
The whisper from the other bench absolutely scared the feathers off me. Only one pink eye was visible, until my eyes adjusted to her leather top, leather bottoms, and flat, bare stomach. Her hands were on her thighs. That eye was full of unrest with the death around us. She was tired. And I had just masturbated in front of her.
I couldn't look. I covered my vagina in shame with both hands.
“Sorry," I managed. “I've been lost for…you don't want to know how long. M-my city-state, it—"
“Gira?" she asked. Her voice was somber, quiet and high pitched. “I was a captive in the airship that attacked it. I escaped, but there were other captives who escaped, too. So I looked for them. All I found was three. I thought I'd find more here, but..."
“So you put yourself in a warzone on purpose?"
She paused. “Yes."
“Breezes. You're so much stronger than me."
“Not enough. I got captured again not long after." She took a step forward and sat down in front of me, legs crossed, not bothered in the slightest by dirty plumage and indecent exposure. Her worried, off-focus waiver made it look like the words were about to pour out like a waterfall.
“This time they put me underground in a dark prison," she continued. “When I broke out, I found they were catacombs. They exist down here, you know. It's right below your feet. Breaking free was the easy part, it turned out. Some old geezers think a lock is when you get a metal circle and tighten it around your waist."
That's an unexpected way of wording it. “Strong." That's all I could say.
“I didn't find any safe havens no matter how hard I tried. I ran all over the place. I ran until I was scared to go anywhere, and then I kept running. I was freaking out day in, day out. And then I found something."
She stood back up. Interest pulled my eyes up.
“Would you like to see it?"
Stepping out gave a better view of her. She was taller by at least a couple heads, well-toned for someone so lanky, and while not as big as mine was currently, her barely covered chest was nothing short of admirable. I felt exposed seeing the white fluff underneath her tight garments. Her face was constantly skewed in confusion, which felt mutual. Or jealousy. When I explained the forest's magic, I noticed her struggle not to look at my boobs, as though the trail itself was more enticing.
I couldn't resent her. She had this energy to her that made me less embarrassed. Calm, light footed and talking nonstop. Even told me about a Siroonian dish I'd never heard about. Avin can always surprise you.
She led me to where the soil was gray. Hidden debris poked my talons. I think her pity for my nudity made her slow down, leaving less moments of silence. Little gestures like this healed me. At this point, I was probably going to be naked in public for the rest of my life, but being with a partner made me forget about that. It didn't even have to be Gael.
Taking glances at her made me realize she was nowhere near as clothed as I first thought. Her torn, single-strap bra left a wide view of her cleavage and a glimpse of the bottom of her breasts, and what hardly passed as her loincloth did little to conceal her butt cheeks, being only wide enough to hide the cleft between them and her vagina in the front. From what I could see, no underwear. A slight breeze, or simply a wrong step, is all it would take to expose herself to the world.
Yet she did not seem worried in the slightest. At that moment I figured, perhaps she understands? Or maybe she doesn't mind. Would she simply go around nude if she could? I didn't want to ask, but the thought put me closer to ease. Not enough to uncover my chest and pussy, but my grip loosened, at least. That was already further than I thought I'd get.
The soil transitioned into a lowland of green, ivylike pants blanketing the ground beneath the black spires. Purple, blooming stalks grew in between the vines carrying fruits stranger than the farmlands or the giant pyramid berries. Though my appetite was gone by then. Primma insisted I eat anyway—who was I to deny her? As I did, she blurted:
“You seemed like you were happy to see me when we first met," eyes full of wonder. “Well, not exactly happy, it's a broken place and we're both unarmed, but the flowers are pretty, right? That's what matters. The flowers."
“What matters is recovering what I've lost," I said. “Unfortunately, that's off the table. What you see is how I've been since Gira fell. My boyfriend promised paradise, and I got ruin. That's when I realized it's time to leave. What is there to say? No matter how far I go, or how much I conquer, all I get back is loss."
“Like what?"
“First my home, then my clothes, my power, my dignity, my boyfriend, my trust…I have nothing, Primma. The Kreeg, especially, they…"
My mind went blank, throat heavy.
“It's okay, no need to say it. You're really not alone, you know, I've lost the lives I've known a dozen times, at least. Growing up in the Ruinlands, you get used to it. That's why I left. And when I thought it couldn't get worse, the Kreeg got me. Four times over."
I paused, my back to her, my body shaking. “Did they ever tie you to a pole?"
“Oh yes."
Deep breaths. “How were you…what were you…?"
“Yes, Amara. I know. I've decided it doesn't matter to me. What's important is that I never gave up. If it's paradise you're looking for, it must be under very specific conditions. Well, not in the conventional way. It either doesn't last or isn't what you thought it was. So I'll make do with what I've got, and be ready to kiss it goodbye."
Hearing Gael's voice, I cursed and looked back at her. “That sounds sad."
“It doesn't have to be if you don't want it to."
When she said that, I understood. There was an avin in there who was happy, carefree and bountiful. She was here before now. She could come back. This was just a temporary hump in a land of shit. And she wasn't even planning on being here for long. It's easy to believe her.
“Thank you," I said. “For all of this. Where should I go from here?"
“Down the hill, you'll find an opening, but be careful. Soldiers go in and out from time to time. It's not often, though. At least, I hope so."
“Can you go with me?"
She hesitated. “See I would, and maybe it'd help, but no, I don't belong here. I'd just get in the way. Not like I'd interfere, but you've got your own problems to deal with. I can't…" She stared in the entrance's direction. “I can't help you any more beyond this. I'm sorry. But it was nice to meet you! Good luck."
She turned the other way. Desperation filled me with her every step. I suddenly remembered she was usually a nudist who empathized with loss.
“Wait!" I put my hand out. “Can I have your clothes?"
I wanted to wipe my mouth with mud; Breezes, oh Breezes, those words were physically painful, but I wasn't in a place to control myself. The look she gave me was wracked with confusion—no doubt, the first time she'd ever been asked this. Such a dirty, pathetic feeling, those words. My hands clasped together.
“Please," I begged. “I haven't worn any in weeks. Months, maybe."
I wasn't even trying not to look pathetic. Though her guise softened. A sort of kindness swept over her face as she shrugged.
To my shock, she began shucking off her bottoms, flashing me with her pink pussy. Any sickness I felt was overlapped with relief when I slipped her garments on. I shivered with how safe it felt. Her breasts barely fit on her top already, so mine were a hassle, but to my shock, I made it work. The fabric was surprisingly stretchy. I realized Primma was now naked before me. She was beautiful.
“I don't know what to say," I breathed.
She shrugged. “Well, you're right. You need it more. I'll make my own way home. Besides," she smirked, “I could use the freedom for a while."
She walked off, but not before stopping and giving me one last glance. “Goodbye, now." The bright smile on her beak complimented her gorgeous nudity. “Do what you can to leave."
I felt fractured inside as I watched her go. Nobody I'd ever met had succeeded so much at what they'd promise in such a short time. I felt at peace. The only direction she'd failed to give was how I should feel right now. On my own, I chose thankfulness.
I doubted the cave's safety until warriors emerged from its depths, just as she said. I crouched low and reflected on my trust issues. Her clothes were mine, now, why did I still feel like I was being screwed? Breezes, she'd hate me if she heard this, but something was off. I had to move. The only way this could go worse is if I missed my chance.
Pitch black surrounded me. It was musky and smelling as though crushing rocks into dust was a pastime for the cave dwellers. It was hard to believe anyone lived there. I grabbed a torch off the wall and took matters into my own hands; if anyone sees me, I don't care, I'm dead either way. Multiple ominous groans filled the air. Amidst them, I thought I heard Apana. The torture keeps getting more unique. Apana was in every shadow and every corner of my thinking.
I sighed in relief as the torchlight's flicker opened up. Words could be heard; not pleasant ones. Each passage in these catacombs was occupied by something, whether it be supplies, crates, or food, some of which I took. I saw the “homes" inside were more just caverns for the sick and wounded. They'd masked the smell of blood with sweet smelling nectars from flat, brass bowls hanging by tiny chains above the individual rooms. Some had limericks. The patients themselves were all prostrate on cold tables, wrapped with gauze or special bandages, looking half-awake. Avin knelt beside them with concerned looks; one even joked with one, a wide smile over distraught, reddened eyes. I could never know what it's like.
If this was an infirmary, there must've been a barracks nearby. If I could find it, I'd get some armor and walk out better off. It was a completely insane idea, but I didn't have much else. I asked around, but nobody wanted to help. It's odd how selfish they were. As though they'd given up long ago.
Part of me wanted to make a speech and start an uprising. Who did this? Where are they? Apana's words said:
She must learn not to be a hero.
But I didn't care. It takes a hero's strength to survive as the victim. The last push was going to mean everything, and I could feel that, surrounded by all those fallen soldiers. My grip around the torch tightened, clenched, a piece of wood cracking. I felt strong in a way I hadn't seen since before I met Gael. Peering out into the darkness, the bodies that fell into my vision all had three things assigned to them in my head: a name, a target, and a purpose. The message was clear as it burned in my heart: I was here to protect every last one of them. Whatever lay on the other end of this tunnel would be the answer to both our problems.
A part of me had been reborn. So it's no surprise to me that before I found the exit, I found a spear rack. They placed it just outside the tighter passage. Waiting for a hero.
“This is the only thing I disagree with you on, Apana," I said aloud while I took one, jamming its end into the floor. Out of nowhere, it stiffened. Noticeably. I didn't want to move it. Not one bit. I let it go and it kept standing. I made my turn slow to let the torchlight breathe, before I inevitably looked into the eyes of an armored Draya, grimacing, her huge sword struggling against the notch it just made in the tip of my new spear, angled right above my shoulder.
“And this is where you choose to fight?" I asked her, my voice low.
She sneered, breathing hard. “I didn't want to."
“Guano. As always."
“You should try running, instead." Her devious smirk vibrated. “It suits you better."
Swinging it, the torch made orange curves across her armor and backed her up. I took my spear and ran, making myself as small as possible to nail the turns. Her armored boots stomping the cavern floor could've caused the whole thing to cave in. As the path split, I swiped the other wall in hopes she'd follow the diversion, but as the footsteps kept coming, my heart started racing.
The torch was dying to the wind of my run, all the lights getting dim. I wasn't sure if I'd make it. Squinting through the darkness, mere embers guided my way. A three way turn at the end, but the exit was clear, left, to the light, to the exit, I ran as fast as I possibly could, and right as the taste of Winds reached my breath, I tripped.
As I fell and rolled over, Draya clamored closely behind. A wind gust screamed death as her massive sword came down, my eyes snapping shut, spear clattered against the floor!
My eyelids were trembling. When they opened, I saw the blade inches before my forehead. A trickle of blood ran down. Yet, there were no fractures. Draya, herself, looked completely terrified. Her arms were shaking.
“What are you waiting for?!" I growled.
All she'd need to do is flick her wrists. As though the exit was closing, she panicked internally. You could hear her heartbeat through the thick metal armor. Her open beaked horror reminded me of Gael in the nest up high.
A gust of the Winds picked up around me. The ground itself felt as though it shook. In a grunt her huge sword lifted, her eyes darting for a target. Still no real movement. So I left her. She wouldn't stop staring at the ground.
The end was a blue line in the distance. Now was my only chance to move.
The ocean in sight, I sighed my black lungs in relief. Though a battle stained the nearby shoreline and cleaved the marshes. Puddles splashed red, feathers flying, each one distracting me further. A few towers stood, though, overlooking the oceans beginning after it.
At the ports were two boats, neither built for combat, so perhaps I had some time. My head was pulsing. As long as they kept fighting, I could make it.
I ran as fast as I could. The battle cries of Oantans crushed my ears. They were bursting down doors and taking rams to the towers. As a shrill and heavy crack to my left sounded, I early tripped.
Out of nowhere, a voice screamed, “BABE, LOOK OUT!"
I gasped. Crumbling dust of a toppling building loomed above me, getting closer, the shadows cutting deeper. The shadow was blotting out all sun when my rib cage cricked with blunt force. Some violent yet familiar wave of Winds carried my dash forward, a shower of debris barely missing me. I looked behind me for a moment and saw Gael, his eyes glowing with gold, and around him flew the rage of another more terrifying figure.
Draya's armored shoulder bashed into me, drawing me away from the fall. As dust clouds picked up, the stone tower then smashed to pieces on the dying ground. If I was off by one step-length, I'd be dead. Gael ran and stopped a few wingspans away from me and stared. He was still naked and erect. The dust hadn't settled. Was she dead?
I looked for the spear, but it wasn't there. The tower had taken it.
A large shadow strolled through the clouds like a spire of rubble grew four limbs and dug itself out from the carnage. Draya's armor had been shredded to the flesh down her leg, both shoulder pads smashed to craters. Dirt and streaks of blood covered her face, but her stoic, angry grimace made it look like she did it all on purpose. Fury in her eyes, dragging the side of her blade along a downed stone to sharpen it further, I hadn't known whether to fight or defend. I just knew not to run.
“You're feisty, I'll give you that!" she said, swinging her blade. “I'll give you a medal when I tie you up again!"
“Leave us alone!" I yelled. “There's nothing to gain from chasing us! All you're doing is bringing them more strife! And for what? A couple prisoners? The avin here can barely stand their own actions! Let us go, and maybe they can rebuild what was lost!"
“Draya, please, stop it," Gael interjected, palm out. “This isn't good for any of us."
“To the Nigidesh with the Oantans. They'll destroy themselves eventually. I'm only here to talk." She turned to Gael, looking utterly destroyed. “Why, Gael?"
“It's not what I wanted to do," Gael spoke softly.
“What is it with you and going back on your promises?! We all have duties, why can't you stay true to yours?!"
“Draya, I don't hate you!"
“I SAID NOTHING ABOUT HATE! I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, but look how shitty things are with her around! You think Oanta will make it better?! Who's to say the southernmost islanders won't get sick of each other and start tearing themselves apart?"
“Stop talking like they're savages," I growled.
“And do you even know them yet? Do you even think they'd let you in? You're beaten to shit. War is all over your body. The moment they see it, they'll throw your ass back in the ocean. You're defeated either way, Amara!"
He told her my name?!
“No," I said. “We're only just beginning."
“Beginning what? All you're starting is another problem! What is paradise if not a shield against the conflict that built it?"
I lunged my torso, “You ruined my homeland, you fucking brute! You're scum and you have no legs to stand on! It doesn't surprise me you'd expect the same from those islanders! If you lay a hand on them or Gael, I'll tear you apart!"
“You have nothing to threaten me with," Draya said, maintaining bravado. “Gael. I think we've heard enough. I'll give you one last chance to come with me. Or I'm gonna have to do something horrible."
Gael shook his head wildly. “No, Draya, not here! Please!"
“Take my hand," she said, “or leave."
The ocean Breezes howled in Gael's feathers. “I can't," he said, all the energy lost.
Draya nodded slowly. “You slept with me in that tent."
And all the rage she expected boiled right to the top of my throat.
My talons twitched. No. All of me was shaking with anger. I turned to him.
“How long were you prepared to keep this from me?" I asked.
The stammer in his throat made it jitter. Either by some instinct or regret, he winced hard, his hands wrung in empty claw-grips with a miserable look on his shying-away-face. When he looked back, “Until the bitter end. I didn't want it to waste away."
The only sound was a heartbeat as my legs moved on their own. Gael fell to his knees.
“Please," he pleaded, “no, no, please, please, please, please, no, I'm sorry, it was the only—!"
“I know already."
Didn't even look. My emotions drowned in the redness of my sight. Thoughts, too; the only thing I wanted was blood. That scornful face. That sword that's way too big for her body. Her judgmental, idiotic scowl. I knew for a fact that Draya needed to be wiped off the face of Avia.
The Breezes hissed. She readied her blade. The angle of that swing. She was expecting a straight charge. If I jumped…
“RRRRAAAAAAAAHHH!!"
I sailed twenty feet above her, arms as far back as they could go, her frigid sword swinging below me. My claws swung at her soft throat, but I only hit metal, three more swings, same deal, darting left, darting right, sparks flying again and again until one wide swing put her cheek feathers in my claws. An armored boot smashed my stomach; she was ready to swing. I shot myself backwards just in time, two tit-feathers falling as I grabbed a rotting stone.
Every breath I took was a shrill yell of rage, lunging at her again, dodging, smashing the brick into her shoulder plate. It dented and punctured the skin underneath; I moved in while the bitch was still yelling. My claws swung against her cheek, missed, and she countered with a palm strike to the stomach, sending me backwards. My mobility was too much, but that blow left me shaking. I scooped sand up, aimed and threw it it right between her eyes.
As she screamed in pain, I latched my foot around her head, poking my talons at the fingers shielding her face. Too easy.
I raised my arm, screamed, and suddenly my torso was airborne, flying backwards into flat ground. Gael slowly lowered between me and Draya, arms in a C. But Draya wasn't listening. She shoved him aside, got her blade, and charged at me first. Seeing the chop, I got up and rolled to the side. Debris scattered. I charged and got a boot to the stomach, a fist to the tit. Couldn't approach her without expecting it. She swung horizontally, this time it hit my scalp, just barely, but enough to hurt.
Instead of yelling, I aimed for her wrists, hoping to disarm her. Bad move. She swung again. The blade stopped an inch before my skin, deflected by air, Gael coming in between us, clawing the ground and blowing us apart with a sphere of wind. He held his arms out as we got up.
“Stop! Please! Neither of you have to do this!"
But Draya bashed him aside.
Leaning my arm back, I aimed for the face that was approaching, until Winds knocked my arm away—the same air cutter that smashed into Draya's armor. We tumbled together.
“If you won't stop, I'll make you listen!" Gael yelled. “Are the Kreeg here, too?"
“I've ordered them not to attack."
“They won't listen. This place is going to be destroyed."
He was right. The smoke was pluming up in the distance. And the redness was fading away with the realization of the bruises I'd accumulated.
And I still wasn't done.
I was light on my feet. Without her noticing, I made a mad dash. Her turning pupil growing dark and wide was the last thing I saw of her. In mid air, my leg stuck out, smashed against her cheek, and knocked her against the ground. Looming above her, stone in hand, I saw her helmet and SMASHED it to its side! She let out a cry, but the helmet kept rattling. I couldn't imagine the state her ears were in. Her arm weakly reached for her blade, but it was too late. The stone rattled against her helmet and knocked her out cold.
“Bring her aboard," Gael said.
“What?!"
“We'll tie her up. She doesn't deserve to die."
As the Oantans closed into our place, we had no other choice. We left that port ducking under arrows, a single wind slice from Gael cutting the last rope to Avia.
Much later, I walked to the back of the ship, where Draya lay tied up and gagged in the dark.
She was in her underwear, if you could call it that. A single strip of bandage wrapped around her chest just enough to hold her modest breasts together and shield her nipples from chafing. Another one carefully tightened at her bottom did no effort to cover her cheeks, only her vulva and, I assumed, her tailhole.
Any other avin would be spelling their indignity out the world - I would know. But to my surprise, she did not protest nor struggle. No signs of humiliation in her expression. She simply stared at the wooden floor quietly.
When I took the gag off, I waited, unsure of what would come out of her beak.
“I'm sorry."
It was like being doused with the coldest bucket of water known to Avia.
“You…you're what?" I asked.
She looked sunken. Silent for a long, long time. “I just didn't want Gael to get hurt. I didn't know who you were."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I didn't. I think we were both glad neither of us followed up to that.
I let her be. I wasn't going to give her any trouble. It's clear she wouldn't cause me any, either, my gut told me.
“Nobody in war wants to get hurt. That doesn't mean we lack responsibility. We've thrown your armor off the edge, by the way." I said just to shut down any hopes she'd have of getting dressed any time soon.
Her throat moved. Sobbing, perhaps. Quietly and defeated.
“Thank you," she said to me.
I stood in place, half-pouting in confusion. Until Primma's words from earlier rang back to me: “I could use the freedom for a while."
Leaning over the boat, my reflection wriggled in the water. My tits dangled. I thought of Apana. The bandages on my scalp and side…I was shocked I could move at all, let alone keep balance. The currents were nice for a change; I could hear my thoughts again. Until Gael came outside to greet me in the nude. I was still clothed with Primma's. If that made him feel lesser, he needed to say it.
“Are you feeling any better?" he asked, no acknowledgement.
“Better than a dead avin," I shrugged, looking up. “I shouldn't be dismayed. After all's been said and done, we did it. We shouldn't even be alive right now. But there's a body in the back, and—"
“She's alive."
“I know, that's not what I meant, I—"
“But you tried it. I know." He met me by the railing. “That wasn't nice."
A tap in the softest part of my heart. Pace yourself. Just say:
“I know. I don't know if I can talk about it."
“When do you want to?"
“Sometime. I guess."
“Next week?"
“I'll pick a time! Just…"
Amara. Pace yourself.
“I just can't let go of what happened," I said. “I know it's unfair, but I want to start with what you did.
A lowered brow, disappointed. “Okay…"
“First, what would you have done if she ended up taking me?"
“Broke you out, obviously. Avin are always chasing me, anyway." He paused. “Okay, to be honest, I wasn't thinking about it. I just knew we'd find a way, because…well, you'd already done it."
“Me?"
“I was going to say 'we', but that was the first time it'd all been up to me. I don't solve puzzles. I survive, in any way I can. And for the first time that night, I was living. It was…tantalizing."
I hated the silence. “What happened?"
“We got close. She started telling me how much she regrets what she did to you."
“That absolves her."
“Right. She was upset about a lot of things, but it always came back to how much she appreciated me. And I believe her. And she got me naked pretty quickly. That armor was only holding back the obvious. She played right into that. Pushed all my buttons. Ones I didn't even know still existed."
“Still?"
Dolefully, he nodded. “I thought I had moved on from that god-squawking Havarda. That place is a land of spite, as far as I'm concerned. But then I saw her, and she…she had that spite, she was carrying it, but she wasn't part of it. None of the soldiers took me seriously with my dick all over the place. Except her. That was the only avin I could trust. Everybody else was watching my every move. It hurt, babe, I mean it, but all I could do was wait for nightfall. By that point, I couldn't react. I'm sorry. It was the only way to get her to bed."
My deep breath released as the words, “It's okay." I paused to collect myself. “Do you think I don't take you seriously?" When he took too long to respond, I said, “You know, we've been through a lot. If I hadn't thought we were a real team, I wouldn't have bothered. I hope it doesn't hurt to hear now that everything's happened. I'm too stubborn for my own good, go ahead and say it. But not one time have I had sex with you and felt any less than thankful beyond words. You're my other half, after all. Though sometimes…" Now, I was taking too long to speak. “Sometimes there's this voice in the back of my head...that…"
“That what?"
I looked out to the sea. “I was worried when Draya came along, you wouldn't know how to turn away. They were promising resources, shelter, and company. Things I couldn't provide. So the voice that tells me I'm not good enough got stronger. It started melding with other thoughts. And when Draya came back, I couldn't lose you. But I get it. It's hard to turn away from someone like that. You were overwhelmed. I think it was more like that for you. Am I right?"
“Overwhelmed. Yeah. Didn't feel like I deserved it, either. Could barely keep the armor on."
“Couldn't what?"
“Nothing. It's nothing."
No it wasn't. “You had to return the armor first thing, didn't you?"
“I…"
His beak quivered, and my heart sank, drawing my eyes to the waters.
“Fucking…." I couldn't even react. I was too tired.
I let us linger on that. Until he spoke up, doleful as always.
“I'm sorry."
I said nothing.
He said, “Who am I kidding? Nothing will ever excuse what I did. I can't go one day without thinking there's only one way to solve a problem in this world, and usually it's with violence. I'm sorry I couldn't be your savior. I took the stupid path out. Obviously I'm a hypocrite for the cause."
“Tell me, then," I said. “What's one way you would've solved it, instead?"
“Knocked her out." Immediately, he winced. “I mean…"
I was getting frustrated. “There had to be better ways, Gael, your emotions got the better of you."
“So did yours."
“Gael, did you see what she did to me?"
“Yes, she tried to kill you, but—"
“She tried killing both of us, Gael! Breezes, you spent so much time being scared of the Kreeg, and now you wanna go back because of a girl who liked you?"
“Amara, please…."
“You were one accidental nap away from letting me die at the hands of your own father! Doesn't that mean anything to you?! I've had sex with you more times than I could count, and I would've been glad to do it again! You know damn well you didn't need to betray me like that! Now, what's so joyful about saving a mindless husk that it allows you to throw everything we have in the dirt and leave it to rot?!"
“You call this rotting?" he snapped. “I'm with you right now for a reason! It was you who left in the first place! I did some stupid things to get us here, but at least we survived!"
“And none of it matters to you anymore, does it?"
“ALL of it matters. You can't just say that it doesn't because it made you feel bad. And frankly? If I wanted to go back to the Kreeg, I would have no problem shoving you out of my way. It feels like you're ignoring all the effort I've put in to keep us together on purpose in order to make sense of this. And I can see why you would after finding this out. But it's brutal. I promise, this was never about her. I made a mistake."
“Why don't you go tell that to her, instead?"
He clutched his head. “I can't stand this! Are you going to yell at her, too? You're not a pacifist! She's tied up in her underwear in the back of the boat, and you still want to kick her while she's down."
“Oh, please! As if the way I treat that worthless skank is anything like the way I treat y—"
My gaze fixed upon the claw mark at his chest. Quickly he noticed where I was looking. Three very visible scars, and the blades that made them were always at the tip of fingers. Scars that I gave him.
I felt the tension flush out, leaving nothing but the guilt. I barely knew who I was. The Guard and the survivor in me were taking a knee, for a change.
“I'm sorry," I said softly.
“I know, Amara," he said. Not quite forgiving, but not quite resentful, either.
And that name. Amara. He called me 'Amara.' Not 'babe.'
We both looked away. Silence.
“It's nothing I can't move on from," he shrugged.
Those words sparked a tinge of happiness, or relief. “Yeah, and there'll be nothing stopping us from doing that now."
“Huh?" His eyes lit up as he tasted the current. “Oh, you mean-!"
“Yeah!" I gestured towards the mainland shore, slowly fading into the horizon. “We don't ever have to see Avia again if we don't want to."
“Do we?"
I closed my eyes. “As long as I can see Apana again. Make sure he's alright. Personally, I think he is. I feel it in my gut."
Gael eased into his sentence: “You sure?"
“I keep getting all these weird dreams about him lately where we're just talking. Every time, it feels like I'm really there, but I'm not. It's nice, but it's not enough, and too many things have been like that lately."
He studied me. “You miss him, don't you?"
“More than Gira itself."
“I could go and find him for you, one day. Let him know you're okay."
“Thanks, but I couldn't do that to you."
“You'd be doing nothing to me, Amara. Both of you deserve that peace of mind. And the closure." He put his hand on my shoulder. I let him. “And when I come back," he smirked, “we'll fuck on the beach first thing. Sound good? I figure we'll be doing a lot of that, anyway."
I smiled. “Definitely."
He always had a way of making me wet. Even when it hurts. Even when everything seems on a knife's edge. Where we had nothing, we had each other. And we'd always make amends even when it was rocky. Love couldn't work without stability—long, hard stability, like his dick in the morning, me smiling on his chest, holding it all up with him. Only, this took days. Months. Blink and it'll be years. What would happen if I left? I hadn't considered it: all this talk was about him leaving. What about me?
I studied him back. There was a pensiveness to him. Underneath the empathy, and the aggression, even, was an un-storied form of a Windborn who'd lost it all. And suddenly I realized why he'd been so distracted.
“You gave up on Phyris but not Oanta, huh?" I asked. “Random question, I know."
A long sigh. “Yeah. One's real. The other's just a myth."
“Did you always think that?"
Gael hesitated. I knew he would.
“No," he said. “As a matter of fact, I kept having dreams about it, too. All these temples in the skies and the passing clouds. It feels so real, like you said. The forest did something to my head, and those dreams stacked on the realism. It's stressful. Been like that for a while. Though I've made peace with it, recently."
“Hm?"
“I've got a theory. Phyris isn't this one place you can go to. It's a constantly moving habitat. So maybe we fell into them at some point, but they were gone before we saw them."
“That sounds a bit sad."
“It isn't. I'm happy for them."
“Really?"
“Yeah. I've been having dreams about my father, too. Those aren't pleasant. One of them was about Draya. Another was about you. But he was always there, in some way. Wrapping me up in chains when I try to have you.
“Wait, that sounds vaguely hot."
“No further details. Point is, I escaped from my family just to be let back in. That's the same problem I had with Draya. She'd always go back to the Kreeg no matter how evil I told her they were. The same thing was always going to happen. The fact that you never did was always enough. You're your own woman. You're smart and strong. And I still kind of hate you for that javelin throw."
“Wait, which one?"
“'Which one?' What do you mean 'which one?'"
“I did it twice."
“You reckless little avin, you."
“Oh, you sexy, heartless bastard. Come here…"
We hugged close and traded tongues, looking away when it was over. I remembered I had a hand on my vagina. How embarrassing.
Was that the right thing to do?
“Was that the right thing to do?" Gael asked.
It startled me. “I just," sighing, “I just want to make you feel good. Make us feel good."
“You can always do that."
“Tsch. No I can't. I'm not built like you."
“Wait, what? Do you mean sex? I love having sex with you."
“I can't make you cum.
“What? Yes you can."
“Barely. Not like you do to me. I keep wanting to give back, but there's something in the way. You're too stressed."
“I'm stressed?"
“Yeah, you kept talking about being chased. I couldn't imagine what that was doing to you."
“Amara, your home burned to the ground."
“Gael!“
“I know, just, why would you put my stress over yours after that?"
“Because we're a team! And you deserve to feel safe."
“Safe? You mean when we ran through all of Siroonian forest naked living off berries and sex before getting captured by the Kreeg, escaping and streaking through the nearest Oantan town, breaking into someone's hut, getting arrested, breaking out and running through a battlefield to find a single boat inches away from a roaring fire?"
I stopped. I hadn't thought it out word for word like that. So many things I'd said felt immediately stupid. I cringed thinking about it. When I turned, though, he was chuckling. How long had it been?
“You can be a bit silly sometimes," he smiled.
I laughed at myself a bit. “Yeah…"
“Look, I'm not proud often, but I'm proud of that. You should be, too. You've got no choice. Sex aside, it showed me I can live off of foraging," he took a deep breath, “mostly because I know what not to do. Listen. I hate putting it this bluntly. But the way you act sometimes endangers yourself and others. Like throwing the javelin, or running for the kill instead of clawing for the boat. You're thinking about the weapon instead of the tower. Defense always comes first, even if you're covered in protection—in Havarda, especially, if you don't know this, you'll die pretty quickly. I always thought the forest was the same. And sometimes it's not even about fighting, sometimes it's eating the wrong berries."
He mentioned the berries last. It felt cold. Why did it feel so cold?
“I do get reckless sometimes," I admitted. “I hope it never felt that way about love."
“Can I be honest?" Gael asked. “You, uh…scare me. A lot. I don't know what you're going to do next. You keep acknowledging the danger but then letting more of it come our way. Like after we snuck around naked through the village—we could've used that night to plan a course. Instead, we had sex in public. Again and again. And I know, I lost myself, too, but it got us imprisoned, and I don't want think we should take risks like that."
“You sure?"
“Okay, maybe a little bit."
“I was about to say, why are you even interested in Oanta? You were the one who brought it up."
“I, uh…did mention it, first, I guess. Again, I'm sorry I lied to you, but it was the only way."
The only way. That phrase kept coming up. I was so sick of it. It made me realize Gael tends to see the worst in everything. When it's bad, it's terrible, and when it's terrible, it's unstoppable—but when it's good, it's great, and when it's great, it's terrific. Wait. Of course it was. That's what our relationship was to begin with, but I never questioned it. Why would I? When had I stopped seeing this? What moment was there…?
“You lie a lot, you know," I blurted inevitably. “I'm sorry, let me try this again. The more you lie, the more I see it without saying anything. You can always find a way to be more honest, and that's on you. Even if the lie feels better, please just assume that it's not. It always creates problems. It'll hurt in the moment, but I'd have that over a nightmare in the making."
“If I would, I'd…"
“...tell me that you love Draya, instead?"
I could see the feathers on his spine raise. “No. No, no, no, not at all."
“Right."
“Amara, that's not what this is about."
“How is it not? You're sharing things I could never give you in a lifetime."
“That doesn't matter."
“What doesn't matter?!"
“I wasn't talking about love! Please, I still love you, I mean it! I'm saying there are little things you've done that get under my feathers! I don't know how to respond to the recklessness, okay? Especially not when blood is shed, and I'm thinking about how I can't go on if you slip up once. I wish we could slow down, but nothing has allowed us to. The way I see it, patience and holding your tongue was the only way to make it through, and I don't know what to say when I can't trust your next decision. It's all the little things, Amara. They add up."
The little things. Okay, then think smaller. What had he kept bringing up?
“The Kreeg," I said. “And the carvings I made. You said it'd lead them to us."
“What carvings?"
“No, remember? When we first escaped, I made carvings leading back to Gira, but they found us when I ate those berries and fainted. The white berries, remember?"
“Yeah, I…" He thought hard. “You said they found us?"
I paused, shook my head. “You don't remember? The fire went out and they--they---"
“Amara, nobody was there."
I didn't understand why he said that. “What about when you jumped on top of me?"
“I wasn't jumping."
Then I thought a little smaller.
…
Oh Breezes.
…
No. It's not possible.
“Gael?" I mused, my eyes slowly widening. “Wait. Gael? Did something happen to me when I ate those berries?"
He paused for a moment. I saw his throat jitter. He clutched the railing and sighed off the edge. Shook his head.
“Gael? Gael, what happened when I ate the white berries?!"
He spoke with slow, grave intent. I could tell it was the last thing he ever wanted to say to me.
“You passed out." He paused. Braced himself. “You were going to die."
The whole world around me froze. I could hardly breathe. “How? I—I don't under–"
“A Windborn can heal an avin on the brink of death, but it's dangerous - it can kill them as well if they're not careful. I knew there was a problem when my wing didn't grow back in a couple weeks. I'd drained a lot of force by doing it. Or, whatever I did. It's not a one-way show. There's always some sort of consequence."
Consequence?
“Wait, is that…?" I looked at the mark on my breast. “Did…?"
Wait. Don't be stupid, Amara. That mark has been there your whole life.
“You're half right," Gael said, shocking me. “That mark reads 'Auren'. It was my mother's. You had to have gotten it while you were still in your egg."
I could hardly speak. “That means…I've…"
I've been saved from certain death…twice?!
I panicked. My heartbeat was soaring and my stomach plummeted. Gael's hand was quickly on my shoulder.
“Oh…oh no. Oh no. I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you."
I felt myself getting lower. The world was going dark…
“Amara?"
Darker…
“Babe?"
……..
A cold splash of seawater to my face brought me back. I lay on the floor for a three-tier lookdown at me starting with the white haze-turning-clouds, Gael's concerned face, and his fat glans pointed similarly. To be fair, the angle helped wake me up.
“Sorry," he stammered.
“How long was I out?" I asked.
“Not long."
I was too tired to joke about pulling myself up with his dick. His concern was killing me. Time. That's what I needed. I needed a bit more water to calm down, and I sat down a lot, trying to learn that I'd experienced death and failing again and again. It didn't make sense. It wouldn't for a long, long time. When you're confused about things you don't understand, you start seeing the same from others. That's why my next sentence was a change of subject.
“Hey," I muttered.
“Yeah?"
“I'm sorry, too."
Gael looked at me, wide-eyed. “For what?"
“I attacked you," I said. “I leapt at you and her like the same animal. I was so caught up in anger that I let go of everything we had. I wish I thought of you, instead. I'm sorry."
He nodded slowly and said, “I know what it's like to throw your anger at everything and then it's gone. It hurts. But you don't hurt. You're amazing. You're the best girl I've ever met."
Something was off. I thought it was the Breezes. No, it didn't feel as real this time. We've been a team for so long, but putting it all together left me feeling like a burden. Why was that? It's not as though this was another lie; he'd have left after I healed him in the first place. Okay, what next? Where to start? Listening to him. I kept thinking back to all the little things. Advice on how to hide. Hugs that avoided the scars, conversations where he listened as best he could, resting in the sun, fingertips on my nipple. The sex we had in the fields. I realized that in love, there's no such thing as pure, unadulterated truth. The moments in the present are what counts. It was Gael who told me that. And I can't imagine where I'd be without him. I was just who he needed to survive.
Who I wasn't, though, was the best girl he'd ever met.
Sadness crept in. I was rejecting it. Tension built in my stomach, and he could see it in me, too.
We didn't say anything. We just looked, and we both knew.
I stood up. Met his eyes.
And when I threw my arms around him, he threw his back at me.
And I muttered the one thing I knew would break me altogether:
“We're not meant for each other, are we?"
A pause made the tension explode with the sulking crane of his neck. I felt the warmth drain away, down through my feet.
“No," he resigned. “We're not."
I held on to him tight until his wings disappeared from my touch. I held him tighter, pulling him in, like he'd absorb right into me. Maybe then he'd see inside instead of through me. I felt that rib cage on my belly. Beneath it was a heart I just ripped to pieces. But it was still a heart. One day it would heal and shine brighter each day. And though I waited for it to happen in the forest, I realized that I had no idea what I was waiting for. Phyris, perhaps.
There was shock and relief. The pit in my stomach was upheld by a rising force that said, “you did it." In the back of my mind, it was waiting, hiding from the Breezes. Now it's lost in them, going off to the south with the both of us. I wanted to melt in with them. At the same time, I never wanted him to let go.
I felt like I made a mistake. As his feathers sifted, I felt him disappearing like sand. Those claws in my back need to dig in deeper. Deeper; Breezes, I dug him back just to show him how it's done. I held him tighter, pulling him in. I held him so I wouldn't face the truth—that there would be a time I'd back up. Either he or I would do it. And all those distant futures with him by me fade away.
Then I remembered all the times we argued. All the fun times and the jealousy; how they all seemed to wrap into one. There was fun in getting angry. I ended up smiling as a tear found the groove in my jaw. And at some point, I stopped holding on.
An early horizon. Back cold from hardwood as I watched clouds pass in the purple sky. My body was wide asleep on the cold on the floor. I waited for rain. I waited for famine. I waited for everything that hurt me to come lurching back. But nothing ever came.
When the boat lurched, and the water sloshed, my body felt nothing. The cold floorboards creaked. I saw Gael walk around me, so I got up.
The sand underfoot made me shiver. Dawn was just upon us and took our breath away. We could hear music in the distance. No one should be up at this hour but the farmers. The difference was staggering, and it made my skin feel light. My stomach is rough and tight in my throat. We made it. For real, this time. We actually made it.
Gael took his place on the shoreline and looked out to the horizon. He froze there, for a while, not knowing what to do. I saw his muscles relaxed from the shoulders down, one by one, all except for one.
Elsewhere Draya made her own way off the boat, wrist marks red and disheveled. I got cold seeing the wetness in her eyes. Gael on the other hand had lost himself in the Breezes. A confused eyebrow raise slowly turned to realization that this was happening. I could watch his senses awake the harder his cock throbbed, begging for the attention of its own.
Gael was wincing at the sight of it. Pre was spilling out of it like a leak in a dam. Ruminations of guilt ran clear through his eyes until they blanked to nothing. His wings were twitching, now, too. Only then did his hands slowly reach between his legs.
I don't know what exactly he was thinking at that moment. He took a seat on the cold sand, sighed, spread his legs, and began jerking himself off. No words spoken; a clear burst of emotion in a way that words couldn't describe. Like the beach itself had broken into him. Trust me, I tried—nothing would get to him. He was hypnotized.
It was hardly any time at all before he came. I flinched in memory of his jerkoff session in the misty forest. All this time, he must've been holding this back—this insatiable lust. This was his body letting him have it. And if I needed any confirmation, he was orgasming again by the time I was finished with this block of thought.
I lay by his side, took my clothes off and leaned on his shoulder. I felt solace knowing that I taught him this. The details were overlooking the most important part. Gael was pleasuring himself, and looked as though he'd already ejaculated three times, his face in pure relieved elation. He was happy.
“Oh, Breezes…."
Breezes. He never said that. Draya and I had the same looks. Huge, white ropes launched into the sky, over and over again from his trembling body. His dick was releasing every bit of stress he'd held up to this point. It was all building up to this condition. I lay beside him and stroked his chest, pressing all his buttons.
Draya snuck up beside us, just watching. I noticed but didn't mind it. She crept a hand nearby to his thigh, a little different than where I'd put it. The smell of semen intoxicated me away from questioning.
The lust was getting to us, both. I couldn't blame her for what she did next. Her hands crept up towards his shaft, and she started stroking him with me. I didn't mind her helping. I tended not to look at her, but sometimes, I couldn't help it. These things don't happen every day.
We let her do whatever she wanted. I have no idea why I did it but it felt right. Our hands stroked and pleasured him as cum lit up the dark sky, until Gael was finally soft and we all were a complete and utter mess. It was like relief the way it washed us all away in all directions. We both cuddled him as we fell asleep. Thank you, Gael. Thank you for splitting us apart.
The nearby infirmary treated me. It was about three blocks off of the beach's shore. I was bandaged up and told not to move for a week. For the treatment they suggested I keep my clothes off, but I wanted some just to feel it again. The comfort was strange. Itchy, even. Oantans were not good at hospital clothing, to say the least.
Often I'd look out the window at the hanging trees swaying in the Breezes. Coconuts hung down, brown as his feathers. Dammit. His face was everywhere. The pain it lingered had to be separated from the rest of the wounds. And even though he hadn't left, in a way, it's like he had, and I was constantly watching him sail off into the clouds. I still don't know what he'd say if he knew what dreams I've had. What ways my head had moved on before the rest of me. One afternoon, the doctor asked me if it's hard to sleep. I didn't know what to say.
My wounds were bad. The doctor said I may have bone issues for the rest of my life in my right arm. Either the fall I took off the tree had done it, or the hard swing I gave to Draya's helmet, I suspected. My left leg wasn't looking good, either. That was the statue. They also said my vagina was too easily stimulated after they shifted the blanket and almost made me cum instantly. I suddenly wanted to go back to wounds. Still, I told them it was simply the Siroonian forest's magic—the same one that inflated my tits, as well. These were permanent changes, yet they all gave me the same looks, not convinced. They gave some helpful waxes and pastes saying it'll heal in time if I do it right. The doctor's right, and I can't deny it. Yet a part of me wanted to stay exactly as I was. It's the life I'd earned, after all.
The doctors worked with swiftness. Having healed up so fast, I was proud of my body, and wanted to use it again. In a week, they said, I could leave, and join the sunset.
It wasn't that I was interested in, though. There were so many avin I hadn't met. Oanta was nothing more than a hospital to me, so far—one that was already demanding money out of a butt naked outcast. That window I looked out of grew lonely. I hardly knew where to turn. The pain of Gael's exit was still there, like a ball fuming in my stomach, but on the days it hadn't stunned me, it was beautiful. Like all wounds, it stitched another patch in itself every day, until it was demoted to a background sting.
A week later, I left. I didn't own any clothes yet, so I walked into downtown stark naked. Yeah…that was my entrance. I wasn't sure at first---would it have been more “correct" to cover up as a first timer? Maybe. Some thoughts left me frozen once or twice—all those, better left buried. Overall, though, I don't think anybody minded. The first pang of embarrassment fled the moment I saw a couple nudists in the rush. When the hesitance fully passed, I never felt so exhilarated; so full of life, surrounded by all these new sights, smells and feelings down those winding roads. Was it all for real? For once, I couldn't stop smiling!
There, I was enjoying life. The heat, lifestyles and culture on display replaced the endless green sludge spires, the mid-morning bustle thriving in wooden creaks and chatter. The constant, nutty aroma swept around kicked sand, body heat and massive, hanging berries grew stronger the further in I travelled. Pottery telling stories of casual avin I never knew lined the windows, some could be seen working on new ones inside.
I struck up conversations, learning a little more about the island each time. The kindness of each local was so refreshing. You could tell by their clothes who was enjoying the heat and who wanted to work; who wanted to play, let loose, and be in the moment. Complete nudity was a blank slate, I learned; and to everybody's surprise, it was the perfect conversation starter.
Instead of gawks, I got stares of wonder. My scars were tattoos that brought out the adventures I'd gone through. The ones on my back, from a ferocious feral beast, my legs cut from climbing a tree to the clouds. That mark on me? Few were brave enough to ask. The maelstrom of attention got my heart racing, my tail feathers lifting on their own giving an obstacle to watch for.
There I stood, naked, aroused, telling my story to all. I think I made six friends then and there, compliments springing from nowhere pulsing excitement through my glowing pussy! My whole body was going insane. I intended to stay casual, but if I so much as brushed a finger across my vulva, I could've burst a dam in front of everyone! Weak-kneed, I took the chair a fellow offered with open arms, the cauldron of spicy stew sizzling like the hot wood against my butt warming my vulva. I was offered a bowl; it tasted amazing! Though it was no use. Mid sentence, I came right in front of about five avin, two of them men. I apologized immediately! Yet somehow, even then, they had funnier stories.
I made my first few coins by toting bamboo and bought myself a skirt with them. That little bit of coverage primed a change in me. I was one of them. I was being somebody again.
By the time I was done, all my confidence had come back. I felt free, independent, comfortable and sexy, my arousal in plain sight for that long. Standing tall, I let the skirt flutter. Next time, should I masturbate for them? I stopped. It was then when I realized—and I'd never, ever tell him this—that in a way, I had felt like a body with Gael. My impulses were to fix the stress, not as much to love. The days after I'd realized this were longing and confusing, and I don't think I've fully recovered even now. Was it really just stress? It couldn't be…no, I decided, I really, really shouldn't tell him this.
One afternoon, a fruit cart came by, tilted and knocked a wheel off. When I caught it, another pair of hands matched mine. It was a manly avin with ocean blue feathers and green eyes. A bit shorter than Gael, but just as muscular, wearing a grass skirt and a sash with a wet pouch. I'd seen him around. We looked at each other and smiled. We stood there for a long time. I'm not even sure why. He was cute.
Sometimes I go outside the hut at night and just listen. Somewhere out there was the avin I'm looking for. I still can't close my eyes without seeing flames. Time had granted me silence and let the panic set in, bit by bit. It's easy to handle by comparison. I just eat a couple berries, put on my skirt and go for a walk on the beach.
One of those nights, I heard a knock on the walls. There he was outside my door, asking me for a walk on the beach. I shouldn't have trusted him. He was lucid-eyed and still nude, his neediness getting to me. The crimson in his eyes burned brighter that night.
I held his hand. I let him tell me about his day. One thing I didn't do, though, was leave the skirt off. And when it ended, we both felt like it was cut short. This'd be the thing we'd learn, day by day. Slow and steady does it before reality sets in, which sums up the sight of him striding off alone after the day was done. I asked if he wanted to come inside, but he ignored me.
Remember the flames? There's a silhouette in front of them now. And I could only put so many bodies in that frame. Whoever landed would be the one to cool it down.
I caught him halfway.
“We can still be friends, right?"
I could feel him thinking. When the pain passed, he smiled. Nodded.
That night, I let him in. He joked about not having ocean currents on his balls. I stared at them and felt empty in two ways, which left a one-way hole I could see out of. Strange times we're in. Though somehow, they make sense in the end.
It had been a few months. Not a lot to say. It's easier for me to smile these days. Waking up, I get a full taste of morning. My clothes stacked up in the corner, though I looked forward to going naked on weekends, as well as some fiestas. Longer walks, longer outings, no trouble getting home. Everything's okay in those days.
And in an ocean's tide, it comes back. Today, I couldn't leave our hut. The realization Gael hadn't visited in a month hit me hard. I lay on my straw cot, arm dangling. Out of nowhere, Draya came around the corner, knocked and rested her arm in the doorframe.
“Hey," she muttered with vocal fry. “Good to see you. I saw you hadn't come out in a while, thought…"
Didn't move. Didn't say a thing.
She said, “A-anyway, I was wondering. Are you still mad at me?"
I turned my eyes. “For trying to kill me? Yes."
“That one was obvious. Let's just say the feeling is mutual. It's hard not to think of you with Gael around."
“Yeah? You should've made the ropes a little tighter."
She rolled her eyes. “I just wanted to tell you. I don't want to go back anymore. I'm going M.I.A."
My eyes widened. “Won't they come looking for you?"
“Yeah? So? Fuck 'em. The Kreeg have no obligation to go where I end up. They can get lost. And so can I."
“So you're just…staying?"
She stammered like a kid. “Yeah, I guess."
I turned the rest of my body. She may have sounded undecided, but she was damn sure about appearing at my doorstep completely naked. That was, at least, some intention of staying. In a place like this, where acts like that aren't only allowed, but embraced, she'd do just fine. Her actions already spoke in volumes, like the shadows in her curves.
I stood up and got in her face. “Do you just want to show off to me?"
“No," instantly.
Words failed. I looked at her and couldn't think of a single insult. It was probably the light. It had to be.
I backed up, my jaw still open. “Do you even have a home?"
“Working on it. These guys don't make paradise easy, turns out. If I work my tail off, I can earn a decent living down in the north. That's a few hundred acres that way, by the way. Gael's been talking about traveling, too. I tell him we'll get a place together, but he won't listen. Not yet, anyway—it's complicated. Can't even get the guy to wear pants. The point is that we're all about to get some time away. But when we don't…" She looked at her talons before skipping a few lines: “I have this unrelenting feeling we'll all be seeing each other again. I wanted to ask. Do you want me to stay out of your way? Because you know what that's gonna mean for Gael."
“Draya…" I sighed. For squawking out loud.
“What is it?"
“I don't give a damn where he wants to put his dick. This isn't about you. If he's going to fly off again, it's not because he's cheating on you, or doesn't love you, it's because that's what he does. And it doesn't mean he's leaving you for good, either. Not everything revolves around you and your selfishness."
“Huh?"
“What is it?"
“You just gave me advice."
Words failed me, again. “Listen, you need to go."
There's a lot I need to let out. Don't let me do it in front of you.
“I already told you I'm going, Amara. Pay attention. I merely want to know what to expect. I thought you'd—"
He was confusing her already, wasn't he?
“I don't know anything, dammit! He's a Windborn! How am I supposed to explain that to you?" Though mid-sentence I remembered everything I'd learned and added, “I can't. He's just an avin with wings, scared of the world like all the rest of us are. You want advice? You two are hopeless together unless you treat him like one, and I know damn well you won't! Now take him somewhere else and get the fuck out of my face!"
“Ughh—for squawking out loud, I wasn't talking about him, either! Do you want me to avoid you in the future or not?"
She wasn't? I felt embarrassed. And just like that, it all clicked. She wanted forgiveness, didn't she? My heart fell. That was all she wanted, wasn't it? I felt pins and needles. Her two questions. They were exactly the same. All she wanted was to leave the pain behind, and I couldn't bring myself to—
“Maybe I should go," she sighed, turning. “The sun is getting—"
“I forgive you," I blurted.
Her eyebrow raised, not sure what to do, the sun behind her slowly peeking over a cloud. The ocean Breezes felt like they were miming her breath; slow, unknowing. I took a deep breath.
“I do," I said. “And I'm sorry."
My honesty hit her like a hurricane. Her eyes were mesmerized. I forgot who I was, for a moment—I think we both did.
“I'm sorry, too."
If beauty was blinding, the next morning was ten sunrises.
A raft washed up on the shore. Huffing, the messenger came sprinting in. He skipped everyone in town, ran straight my way, and told me something that made me sob in the middle of the street.
Apana. He was okay.
Somewhere out there, he was fine, and he was looking for me! I told him, when you get the chance, I'm here in Oanta. Being safe. Living life again, like you always wanted your Nuni to.
I never told him about the forest.
My skirt fluttered as the horizon called my name. It was in Apana's voice. Gael's real voice, not so far away. Both held a place in my heart I couldn't forget.
The clouds passed, and I thought of them both. Apana's waiting out there somewhere for me, but Gael didn't need to. He surprised me that afternoon, and chatted with me over a picnic. A real talk---that's what it takes to remember an avin, sometimes. He was having similar struggles. To him, finding a new relationship was like spending weeks making a bow before fletching a single arrow. And so it felt natural to take what you could get, enjoy what you already had, even if his grip on it grew weaker each day.
I couldn't go back, but that doesn't mean I forgot who he was. It never felt like we ended this properly. And I could tell through the pain in his words, he was as right as I was. We held that bond with pride knowing it could never truly work.
In the present, I looked out to the skies and touched my vagina. All the times he fucked this were leading up to this moment. It never owned us. It was just a key. Or a lock, I guess. This time, I really felt it for what it was: a connection. Like the forest, no matter how much I changed, some part of me was still there, yearning to go back. Or bargain, that was the other thing; if Oanta had a jungle, I don't think I would hesitate visiting. I'm not impulsive, I'm just being honest. There's much more to learn from this, but that connection is why we stayed alive. And I'm grateful for every single moment.
That picnic, I told him I needed it one more time. On the beach. At sunset. Don't even think about bringing clothes. This is what we promised it would lead to, wasn't it? This is what we worked for! Things like that tend to slip out my beak, slower every time. He said I made myself as clear as always. Then he agreed, and I remember how he said this: only because he'd leave the next morning. For that, he got the biggest hug of his life.
The day was done like that. I watched the sky turn colors like melting portraits, the short moment you'd see the wrathful Winds surrounding us. I saw old versions of all of us, there. Just like that, it was gone, like heart shaped arrows in the Nigidesh, weaving in and out the clouds looking for saviors to strike down. They'd have to keep searching. I was done with mine. Hey, Apana. I did it. I'm not a hero anymore. I found peace.
I saw Gael. His hand was out.
“You ready?"
I was.
My hands were on his shoulders, his on my hips, the sun between us.
“Gael, before we do this. I must know…"
“Yes?"
“The other mark, the one you gave me after the berries incident…it must be somewhere…where is it?"
He groped my right butt cheek, hard, until his touch did the talking.
And for the rest of the evening, so would mine.
One last sunset.
I loved the waves breaking on the golden-brown sands. The way we held hands when he pounded me. My legs bent, knees to the air. I loved being full of him while he's full of himself, and the beak prints I left on his neck to get him back. The constant smacking of our pelvises, my insides feeling like rolling, steaming hot waves squishing and frothing inside me—my tits, too, bouncing with sweat drips that rolled off his body. I could feel a gape forming as big as the sun. Secretly, I hope he never covers that cock; I'll be missing it for a long, long time! And when he shot his waves in the sand and rolled by my side, I still felt smothered by his manliness. His feathers always looked so beautiful in the sunset. Somehow, though, I was staring somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away.
“Came a long way, haven't we?" I asked, still leaking.
“Yeah. The whole trip." Gael grinned and looked out to the horizon with me. “Now what?"
I thought for a long while. Apana's on the list. Best not tell him that. It felt like I'd seen all of Avia while I'd barely trekked a third. Plans? The longer I stay here, the better. And the less we think about each other getting in trouble, the easier this'll be. If that's even a thing.
“I'm not sure," was all I ended up saying. “Let's just have this moment, instead."
Gael's smile was soft. “Whatever you say, Amara."
We lost ourselves in a sky stretching beyond anything we knew. Legs open, Breezes on our naked bodies, watching the sun that seemed to drown itself. His warm hand in mine while the other lay in the sand, yet both were still resting on the same page: there was so much out there to love.
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Thank you all so, so, so, so, so much for reading. If you read this from front to back, you are the realest one I've ever seen, and I mean that. I was not under any circumstance expecting this to be as long as it was. Thick Thighs & High Tides started out as a short concept for a novella and continuously developed over a year to be 67,000 words long. In essence, I accidentally made a novel, lol.
Personally, I think it was a fascinating writing endeavor, and having BassyBefuddle to bounce off of/have as a proofreader was super exciting and unique in its own way. Seriously, hats off to that guy. Writing an erotic fanfiction with the original artist is something very, very few writers get to do, and I think I'm gonna cherish this for a long, long time.
All comments are welcome. I highly value all of your feedback, constructive criticism, thoughts and reactions. Honestly, I'm so happy to have this all out there, and I really hope you enjoyed it. Go check out Windborn, too!