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A human slave finds himself purchased by an enigmatic avian. Contains: M/M, Avians, Hawks and Transformation.

Written for the lovely :iconAnawyn: Another TF writer I highly recommend!

**** Prologue ****

My name is James Villers, and I am a slave.

There aren't many prisons in Amyr; years ago the corporate council all but abolished imprisonment as a punishment and replaced it with slavery. All but the most feeble or sick are made to work, paying off their debt to society or their creditors. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable, perfectly just system... until I found myself a part of it.

My family lost all its considerable wealth (and then some) in the market crash six years ago, and ever since we had been debt-slaves. We had paid off about a quarter of our total debt in that time, but rising interest rates had really begun to eat away at our progress. So you can understand why I was so excited when a rich foreigner came from out of the blue and offered the bank a huge sum of money to lease me. But still, it was very unusual for someone to travel so far just to buy one slave...

I first knew that something was amiss when the slavemaster's sky barge docked with my new residence. It was one of the biggest zeppelins I had ever seen; as if gravity had forgotten about a small island and let it drift upward, unfettered. But it had no personal aircraft on it. As the slavemaster's guards led me on, I noticed that not one emergency glider was attached to the side of the great craft; not a single parachute could be found anywhere in it's richly appointed halls. There were only two types of creatures that lived in the skies yet dispensed with such precautions: the very poor, and those who had wings. Judging by the oil paintings and antiques lining the rosewood walls of the docking port- not to mention the expense of a prime slave such as myself- my new master was almost certainly not one of the former...

When the guards led me into the study where the business transaction was being conducted, my worst suspicions were confirmed. The zeppelin's owner was an avian; a hawk person! I should have recognized the Venian architecture!

When I first saw him, I immediately disliked him. He looked more predator than patron; more beast than human being. He was well over two meters in height when standing up tall, his figure a study in contrasts. His arms and legs looked lithe and sinewy, but the wings folded against his back were enormous. Fine, straight feathers covered his body, but his beak, claws and talons were sharp and curved. The creature's clothing was beautifully tailored silk, yet it looked unwashed and torn in places, worn down through casual neglect. His eyes were sharp as swordpoints, yet they never seemed to focus properly. Was it age or alcohol? Loss, hate, fear, or contentment? When they settled upon me, he looked guilty, sad and happy at the same time.

I had been a slave for six horrible years by this time; I'd served ten other masters already. You pick up on subtle clues of behavior quite quickly when your continued well-being depends on pleasing someone, believe me. So when I say that I looked upon this strange avian and couldn't understand who he was or what he wanted, you have to understand why it made me so afraid. Being forced to serve someone who wasn't even human was bad enough; it was going to be even worse if my new master proved to be some sort of crazy bird-person.

He paced back and forth nervously as he negotiated with the slave trader; it was sort of hypnotic to watch. When he spread out his talons he could walk on the surface of the carpeting without sinking into it, but when he drew them in tight his sharp digits pushed through the dense fibers as if they were made of water.

The bartering seemed to drag on forever. The bank's slavemaster was a short, bald man possessed of nearly-limitless cupidity; though he treated us all quite well it was only out of a desire to keep us healthy and complacent. Good merchandise sells better than poor stock; even a cattle-raiser or chicken breeder could understand the principle. I never bore him much ill will... nor good. It was just so predictably typical of him to try and squeeze a few more gold dollars out of the avian purchasing me right at the point of sale.

Eventually, the two came to an agreement on my price. The guards unshackled me and gave me a small push forward, as the slave-trader took a handwritten, personal check from the hawk. The number on it made my heart soar! Even taking the bank's commission and fees into account, it was a significant percentage of my family's debt! This was going to be a very, very long assignment, but by the end of it we would be that much closer to freedom.

Human fingers met avian claws in an awkward handshake, and the deal was done. The slave-trader and his guards left looking rich and happy, and I was alone with my new master.

**** Chapter I ****

"What is your name?" my new master asked. It was the first time I heard him speak; his voice was higher than I expected from such a weathered-looking bird, but there was roughness to it. Did he smoke? Breathe in too much noxious city air?

"My name is James, sir." I said, trying to sound as complaisant as possible.

He gave me a half-smile, his beak remaining fixed while his face and eyes made the expression themselves. "It is good to meet you, James. My name is Tirian; Tirian Zavant."

He then walked forward, extending one of his scaled, white claws toward me. He... wanted to shake my hand?

This was weird; slave social protocol stated that you never interacted with your master in any way that showed equality. But the very first line in a slave contract stated unequivocally: the master is always right. I took his white, scaled claw in my hand and shook it carefully, not returning any the force that he put into it. I tried not to stare at the strange, avian hand, but it was hard not to. At least I managed not to shudder.

"Uhm... what would you like for me to do, master?" I asked, uncomfortably.

"Oh... yes, sorry. I suppose that I should give you a list or something..." He said, walking over to his desk. The hawk-man picked up a silver pen and began writing a piece of white paper; it was the same pen he had used to sign the check. I looked around the study as I waited. It was lined with wooden bookcases and wood cabinets like the halls; it must have taken a small forest to furnish this ship.

"This should do." he said, handing me a list of chores and duties. It was written in curt, neat penstrokes, as precise and clear as a computer printout. Most of it was a series of instructions on how to clean different parts of the airship, but it also mentioned cooking and... gardening?

"What does this mean?" I asked, pointing to the line where 'gardening' was written.

"It means, tending to and harvesting from the gardens." he said, with seemingly infinite patience.

"Gardens?" I repeated.

I had caught a glimpse of the behemoth airship from the outside, but apparently missed this feature. The top of the zeppelin was blindingly bright from the sunlight that reflected off its photovoltaic skin.

"Oh, I'm sorry again. I forget myself; I haven't given you the tour yet." he said, embarrassed. A master, apologizing to a slave twice in the same conversation? I almost bit my tongue in shock.

He walked out of the study and beckoned for me to follow, his mood quickly brightening as he began the tour. His enthusiasm for his home-ship was most certainly genuine, I could tell. He led me from his study down past the library to the great observation deck, past the kitchen and dining room, the huge store-rooms and the pool, the impressive bedrooms and bathrooms. He pointed out works of art that he was particularly fond of and told short but interesting anecdotes about the memorabilia that lined the halls. One thing that I noticed fairly quickly was the utter absence of servants, guards, other slaves or family members as he led me though the huge ship. Every vital system was either ran by a computer or perpetually renewed by ritual magic; he and I were the only living things on board save for a small flock of crows.

"Sometimes, when we're far out over the ocean we even get an albatross or two." Tirian said, smiling. "Beautiful creatures; they live most of their lives in the air. Like me."

I took the time during the tour to surreptitiously familiarize myself with my master. His hands and talons were gray-white, although the claws themselves were black. His great, feathered wings were coal black mixed with lighter patches of gray, brown and white on the undeside. His front was soft and white, although it was speckled with bits of brown and gray near the top of his throat where it disappeared into his shirt. The most noticeable feature of his face aside from his sharp eyes and black beak was the mask of black down that ran from his eyes to the sides of his head. I'm told that avian-people can tell one another apart from a kilometer away by the faint patterns made by these colors, but to me it all seemed to blend into one haphazard mess of pigmentation. I still couldn't even begin to fathom what he wanted out of me. He certainly didn't want just a slave, that much I was sure of.

Eventually, he led me to the gardens. There were two of them, one on each side of the fat, stubby wings of the airship. Automated machinery let in sunshine and rain water from the outside, but all of the crops were tilled and gathered by hand. My master was smiling broadly, as he continued showing off his zeppelin. There was an energy, a certainty in his voice that had been noticeably absent when I first met him.

"This ship need never land. It had almost no moving parts, it can suck in water from the ambient moisture and save it from rain. It can distill helium and oxygen right from the air. Most of the energy is produced from the solar panels on the topside, and most of the food can be grown here. These crops here will be your main job, James. We can grow year-round by following the climate as it cycles from summer to summer."

"Yes master; it is extraordinary." I responded with complete sincerity. I'd never seen an avian homeship firsthand before; it was quite a sight.

"Well, I know it is not quite as impressive as the floating island-cities, but then again I can steer this home! Moreover, you can never really trust magic, can you?" he said, cracking another avian half-smile at me as if he had shared some inside joke.

He had bought my life less than an hour ago, and he was treating me like a long-lost friend? It was more disconcerting than the casual neglect or smug superiority that most masters had treated me with before. In my experience, when a master treats a slave with undue familiarity or compassion, it is to assuage their guilt about something terrible they had done... or were about to do. Then again, it wasn't like he had to do anything to ensure my obedience. We were thousands of feet in the air and there wasn't any way to get down that didn't involve either having wings or reaching terminal velocity. That was why he had paid a premium for a young but well-trained and experienced slave like me, wasn't it? He needed someone who was young and athletic but already well disciplined. It made perfect sense, I hoped.

We moved on, toward the engines and the storage compartments, the large utility room and the unused hangar. I was told not to go on the outside catwalk; it was designed for the birdfolk and had no railing. If I slipped off, it would be a very long fall.

We ended the tour at the kitchen, which led into the dining room. A huge window dominated the wall of the dining room, giving a portside view of the endless sky outside. The sun had nearly set below the horizon; we must have been travelling northward. I was going to ask what he wanted me to cook for dinner, when I noticed that something delicious was already simmering on the stove.

"It should be ready by now; I've been slow-cooking it since this afternoon." my master said.

Without being bidden, I set the table for my master and then got some food for myself. It was a thick clam chowder mixed with pungent spices and prawns; the smell alone was enough to make my mouth water with hunger. I poured a full bowl and started to eat it, sitting down in a corner of the kitchen. I hadn't eaten since being roused from my cot and loaded onto the airship earlier this morning; my hunger was a palpable force. It was still a little too hot, but I was so hungry I brought a big spoonful of the hearty soup up to my mouth anyway...

"What are you doing?" the master asked, stopping me cold. Had I taken from the dish meant only for him? I should have known better! Stupid, stupid amateur mistake!

"Master, please forgive me! I'm terribly sorry; I'll return your dinner immediately." I said, panicking.

"What?" he asked, confused. "No, the chowder is for you, too. I meant why aren't you going to eat with me?"

"O-oh..." I stammered. He wanted to *eat* with his slave?

I followed him back into the dining room, sitting across the huge table from him. I tried to eat as properly and slowly as I could while still trying to look extremely grateful in the process. I really wished that he would just leave me alone and let me eat in peace. It was hard just to meet his intense, black-patched eyes without getting a creepy feeling. I couldn't help but stare at his beak, or his white claws.

However, as dinner went on, I started to get more comfortable. My new master seemed more interested in conversation than anything else.

"So... James... do you like the soup?" he asked, taking a careful bite from his spoon. The utensils were high quality but oddly-shaped tools, designed for claws and beaks.

"Yes!" I was never slow to praise a master... or good cooking, "It is fantastic, master! Is this your own recipe?"

"Yes, it's an old family recipe; I wanted to make something special for your first day." he said.

"Th-thank you; this whole day has been quite special, I assure you!" I responded, nearly stumbling over my words to show proper appreciation.

"Well, I'm glad you like my home. I hope that your accommodations prove satisfactory." he said, smiling at me again. He was so friendly it was unnerving.

"Yes sir, I'm sure that they will." I said.

I took a bread roll from the bowl and started to eat some more, before asking another question to break the awkward silence. "How did you acquire this ship, anyway? Who built this for you?" I asked.

"Actually... that's an interesting story." the osprey said, dabbing his beak with a napkin. "My great-grandfather started an aeroplane company a long time ago; I'm not sure if you've heard of Allied Aviation, but they do a lot of work in Venia for the government. They build everything from passenger zeppelins to fighter jets. But anyway, his daughter- my grandmother- had it built for the family when she took over as CEO. She loved this homeship so much, she ended up marrying the engineer who built it!"

"Your grandfather built this? That is quite amazing!" I said.

"Yes; he designed everything onboard save for the engines. They used to run on jet fuel, but now they use renewable power. The power output is much lower, but the ship can stay aloft indefinitely." My master said. He looked out the windows at the darkening sky slowly floating past us. "I don't know if you could see the writing on the hull, but she's named The Pride of the Clouds."

It felt like a pretty apt name for such an airship. It might not have the sleek, deadly design of a jet fighter, but the old ship had a certain regal splendor, an elegance to it that seemed almost anachronistic. It was hard to believe that any machine could remain in such good condition for so many years of constant use; it said a lot about the quality of avian engineering.

"So, do you run the company now?" I asked the osprey.

"No, one of my sisters does. She took over the business when our parents retired, but let me keep the airship. I went into... another field. Retired, now."

I wasn't sure exactly how old my new master was, but he seemed awfully young to be retired. The way he ended his sentence made it plain he didn't want to discuss his own career... or lack thereof. In my experience, fat inheritances create lazy dilettantes anyway. I quickly switched the subject. "That is nice, master. Are were going to be flying back to your home, then?"

"Yes, eventually. But first, I wanted to tour the coast for a while, follow the summer." He explained patiently, as he took a sip from his oddly-curved wine glass. The crystal looked so delicate when he drank from it with his sharp, hooked beak...

I tried to remain attentive and responsive as we talked, but it was hard not to stare. I had never been this close to one of the itinerant avian-people. Everything about him was alien in some way, from his behavior and mannerisms to his movements and speech. Still though, the food was incredibly good and being able to talk with someone like a normal person instead of a slave was refreshing beyond words. It might have only been idle conversation, but that was far more than I was used to.

When dinner was over, I did the dishes and put everything away as my master read the paper from his laptop. By the time all the cleaning was done, I was ready to go to sleep. My master quickly picked up on this from my yawning, and offered to show me to my quarters.

The room wasn't far down the hall from his own bedchambers. He wished me goodnight and gave me a quick, friendly pat on the shoulder outside the door, then went to go finish his reading. Not sure what to expect, I cracked open the door. The room was dark inside; it took me a second to find the light switch.

What I saw in there floored me. It wasn't some dusty servant's quarters or converted closet; it was a full bedroom as opulent and beautiful as the rest of the old ship's rooms. My own room! A real room! It was a taste of my old, forgotten life.

The bed in front of me was more impressive than that of my former owner; it was stacked with layer upon soft layer of blankets and comforters, accompanied by real pillows of every shape and size imaginable. I threw off my shoes and jumped onto the huge, puffy bed, letting myself sink into it like a stone thrown into water. It was a far cry from the hospital surplus cots that I was used to.

I ran from corner to corner of the room- my room!- giddy with excitement, noting my new furniture with glee. I even had a closet! There were new clothes for me to wear (although about half of them seemed designed for avian bodies, not human) and a wide assortment of books on the lower shelving. Books! My old, dear friends! It had been so long since I'd had a chance to read anything save magazine scraps. But then, what was this other door here for?

No... it couldn't be.

Really?

I cracked the door open slightly, and saw that yes, I even had my own bathroom. It wasn't very big; just a shower, sink, cabinet and toilet, but it was mine.

I couldn't stop the tears. Six years of slavery and I'd never once had my own room, let alone something like this. It was just too much. It made me think of my old home and my family, it made me forget the others' warnings about what 'nice' masters had to be ashamed of.

I sank deep into the softness of my new bed and went to sleep feeling happy for the first time in years.

**** Chapter II ****

Tirian asked me to stop calling him 'master' at breakfast the next morning.

I had woken up early to make breakfast; pancakes, fruit and tea. When Tirian woke up and saw me in the kitchen, he looked half-surprised that I was hard at work cooking and cleaning.

"Morning, James." He said, stretching out his wings as he yawned.

"Good morning, master." I responded, happily. I had slept better than I had in months; my new bed was so soft it was like one gigantic pillow. The last time I had gotten this much rest it was after thirty straight hours of cleaning for one of my less-considerate masters.

I sat down after he did, feeling proud of my cooking as he devoured my pancakes. If my new master was going to give me quarters fit for a businessman, I was going to do my damndest to please him.

"Those were delicious; thank you." the master said, after he had finished his breakfast.

"Thank you, master!" I said, giving him a short half-bow to show my appreciation.

For some reason, the gesture seemed to make him very uncomfortable. "Uh... James, you don't have to bow to me."

"But master..."

"Do you know who I am?" he asked half-rhetorically, interrupting me.

Well, that was an easy question. "You are my master."

My master didn't seem to agree. "I might own a piece of paper that says so, but is that really true?"

"But it's not just a piece of paper; it is a contract." I said, trying not to sound like I was correcting him. "A legally-binding contract. You are my master because you own that contract, sir."

"No." he said, quietly. He averted his eyes, as if he was ashamed of himself. "No, I don't want to be anyone's master."

"Why not?" I asked, not sure what sort of response I could expect.

"Let me ask you this: what am I?" he repeated, spreading his wings out for effect.

"One of the... avian peoples?" I guessed, not sure what point he was trying to prove.

"Yes, I am one of the avian people. An osprey, to be specific. Do you know that slavery is considered a crime among my people?" Tirian asked, sighing.

"Well, I do now. But why do your people not practice slavery? Isn't it more efficient, more productive than other forms of punishment? Than letting people default on their debts?" I asked. It felt like an innocuous question, but his reaction was very emotional. He gave me a look that combined shock, disgust and embarrassment so finely that it was a wholly unique expression.

Tirian walked toward the window, gazing out at the cloud banks that floated by us. When he spoke again, he did so slowly and with purpose.

"Tell me, have you ever flown?"

"No, I can't say..." I started to reply.

He interrupted me. "Have you ever seen the sun rise above the horizon while flying over the deep blue ocean, feeling the rising star's warmth contrast with the cool of the water's spray? Have you ever soared lazily on a great thermal, daydreaming while letting the heated air carry your wings? Do you know what it's like to jump off a sheer cliff with a running start, feel the exhilaration of a freefall pulled into a soaring climb? Can you understand what sort of thoughts run through your mind when you look down on rolling countryside and sprawling cityscapes from high above, wonder what all those tiny shapes far below are up to? Have you ever navigated by the stars in the middle of a cool, clear summer night? Ever plucked a fish fresh from running water for dinner with your bare talons?"

He paused his questioning, and put his arm on my shoulder. "How could I possibly share with you all of the sights and sounds and sensations that you feel while flying? It is impossible. But you have to understand, it integral to my people. It defines us, physically and philosophically. Slavery is anathema to everything that we are. I... I hate it myself, but buying a slave was the only way that..."

I waited patiently for him to finish, but he just changed the subject.

"James, could you please not call me 'master'? Could you just call me Tirian instead?" he asked.

I responded in the affirmative, "Yes, Tirian."

We finished breakfast quietly. I wasn't sure what exactly to think of the exchange; I'd never seen anyone so reluctant to own a slave before. It was especially strange given how much he had paid for my contract.

Later that day, he showed me how to tend to the ship's gardens. I had worked on farms the last four summers, but farming on The Pride of the Clouds was a lot different from the backbreaking labor I was used to. Since almost everything save for the actual planting and harvesting was automated and only Tirian and I needed to eat the food produced, it was only about an hour of labor. After that, I looked for things to fix or maintain, but pretty much everything seemed to be in excellent working order. Finally, I settled on dusting, the only task on my list of duties that the airship was sorely in need of.

The dust in the living room was thick enough to write in. But after the room was properly dusted and vacuumed, I found myself bereft of work. I went to find my master in the study, to see if there was anything more to do.

"Uhm... sir?" I asked, after almost calling him 'master'.

"Yes James?" Tirian responded.

"I seem to be out of work, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you? Any other tasks?"

"Hmm... if your chores are done, you can do whatever you wish." Tirian said distractedly, still typing. I noticed that the keys on his laptop were all heavy and rubbery, designed specifically to be used by sharp claws. "Read a book, watch some television, you can think of something. We're going to need to do a lot more work once I get the rest of this year's seeds on board, but until then your time is your own."

'What? Really?' I thought. "Are you sure there isn't anything more I could do for you? I mean, I seem to have an awful lot of free time..."

"No, not really."

I bit my lip. "Are... are you absolutely sure? I mean, you paid so much for my contract; I have to make sure you get your money's worth..."

Tirian gave me a weary look, stopping his typing. "Can we please stop talking about your contract? I assure you, I'm not disappointed with you and I'm not going to be. To be honest with you, James; I wasn't looking for a slave. I was looking for more of a... companion, of sorts."

"A... companion?" I asked, not sure what he meant.

"Well... I wanted to give growing sapphire bushes a try. It is takes seven, sometimes eight months for them to mature, and you have to follow the seasons as they change to ensure the climate is right. It can be to be a little... lonely. Even for me." Tirian said.

"Oh..." I said. I wondered if he was looking for a 'companion' in another sense of the word; it wouldn't be the first time that I had a master interested in getting something extra from their slave. But rather shockingly, I found that the notion intrigued me. Tirian was quite nice to me, and there was a certain raptorial allure to him that I couldn't quite shake...

"Anyway, I'm going to get us some dinner. I'll be back in a few hours; could you plug my laptop into the charger in the study?" Tirian asked, shutting the computer.

"Yes sir." I said, picking it up.

"Okay, good. Take care James!" Tirian said, taking off his robe.

He grabbed a scarf and a pair of heavy goggles from the coat rack near the door and put them both on. Then, he did a quick stretch, opened the door and walked outside, onto the open skywalk. What he did next made me gasp in surprise.

Tirian took a lazy step off the edge of the metal balcony and plummeted into the open air.

For a half-second, I had forgotten that the osprey-man could fly. I ran to one of the nearby windows and watched his wings unfold, saw him fly down towards the water below in a smooth, effortless dive. Soon he was too far away for me to see.

Slowly, I walked away from the window. It was one thing to know that the avian people could fly, quite another to actually see them do it. I gathered up my master's discarded robe and hung it on the coat rack, then took his laptop back to the study like he had asked.

While I was waiting for Tirian to come back, I spent the next few hours reading and checking out the latest business news from Amyr. It was shaping up to be another bad year for the manufacturing sector, but the bank that owned my family was posting record profits. According to the press release, they were confident they could squeeze another half-percent of growth in before the end of the fiscal year. All of the recent bankruptcies were enlarging their slave base quite nicely.

When Tirian got back in, his feathers were wet and he was breathing heavily, but he had a smile on his face and a fat, fresh salmon in his claws. He lit a fire in the dining room fireplace, and then went to work preparing the fish while I made us a salad and some potatoes to go with it. While we were cooking, he told me of the spirited fight that the nine-kilogram monster had given him when he snatched it from the water. I tried not to cringe when I saw the faded specks of blood on his talons.

The salmon was delicious; I'd never eaten something so fresh before. It still had a faint tang of saltwater to it, noticeable even through the lemon and garlic butter that had been slathered on top. I still wasn't sure what to think of my non-human master or his paradoxical dislike of slavery, but I could get used to eating like this. Tirian even brought a bottle of wine out of his well-stocked liquor cabinet.

"Ever heard of this before? It's a vintage from my homeland; the grapes only grow well on floating land." Tirian said, gesturing to the bottle. It was a pale yellow color, and bore the mark of a maker I had never heard of. It looked expensive, though.

Tirian filled his glass up with ice and then poured some of the wine in. Much to my surprise, he then poured me a glass as well.

"Try it." He said, smiling.

I took a slow sip. The taste was sharp, sour and lingering, so strong it made me feel nauseous. It took a great deal of self-control not to let my suffering show.

"Tirian, this tastes wonderful!" I lied, trying not to choke on the aftertaste.

He started laughing. "Now James, are you telling the truth?

"Uh... maybe." I said, wincing. I was usually pretty good with prevarication, but Tirian seemed to be able to read me like an open book.

"Come on; it's pretty awful wine, I know! But an old friend of mine grows it; I couldn't bring myself to refuse his gift... and I care enough for the ocean not to throw it overboard. What do you actually think of it?"

"Well... uh... it tastes like lemon-flavored cat urine mixed with carbolic acid." I admitted, grimacing.

"Hah! That pretty harsh, but not far off the mark." Tirian said, laughing. "But if my friend Harnan comes for a visit, you'd best not mention that."

I nodded in agreement while having a drink of sweet, cleansing water.

"Though strangely, he makes excellent coffee; go figure! Maybe it has something to do with the elevation?" Tirian said, contemplating his glass before taking another sip. "But it actually grows on you, after a while."

"Really?" I asked.

Tirian laughed. "Yes. Well, a few spoonfuls of sugar don't hurt, either."

After dinner was over, I did the dishes and put away the rest of the salmon. We had barely put a dent in the enormous fish; I had a feeling we were going to have plenty of salmon omelets, salmon burgers and smoked salmon to eat in the near future. As I finished the cleanup, Tirian finished up whatever work it was he did on his laptop.

I was headed back to my room to retire for the night when he shut the screen and asked me a question. "James? Any chance you might want to... play a game? Or something?"

"Uh... certainly, sir." I said. I was feeling a little tired, but I was certainly intrigued.

"Excellent!" Tirian said, walking toward the living room. When he returned, he had an armful of game boxes. I recognized a few of them, including Scrabble, backgammon and chess. But most of I had never seen before, including one that was roughly the size of a foot locker. Written on the side of the enormous container in blocky, steel-gray lettering were the words 'ADVANCED TACTICAL WARFARE'.

"What is that game on the bottom?" I asked.

"You want to give this a try? I'm going to warn you, it's a very intricate game and I'm quite good at it." Tirian said, smirking.

"Well, it looks interesting." I said, awed by the sheer physical size of the board game. "I used to love strategy games... but it's been quite a while since I played one. You'll go easy on me, right?"

"Heh... now, how would you learn if I did that?" Tirian asked, giving me a predatory look. He put it down on the table with a thud, and opened it up. After fishing around inside the box for a few seconds he reached over and handed me the manual, which resembled a dictionary in both size and weight.

"By the saints, this is complex!" I said. There must have been hundreds of pieces and thousands of cards, along with ten dice of various sizes and a sizable number of counters and tokens. "Where did you find this game?

Tirian started to set up the game's massive, two-tiered board; it was a little larger than dining room table itself. "The game was originally developed for our military; it is designed to help teach pattern recognition and strategic thought. This game is like playing chess in nine or ten dimensions; you simply can't reach any of your decisions through brute force. To win, everything you do has to flow together into a coherent strategy... and then you have to execute it to the best of your ability and hope that luck is with you."

"If it's a game about strategy, why is chance involved?" I asked.

"Well, that is the second lesson the game helps to teach," Tirian said, scratching his beak, "sometimes in war you get lucky, and sometimes you don't. It's something that isn't quite as fun to learn, but still quite important."

"Oh?" I asked. Come to think of it, Tirian did have an awful lot of military paraphernalia decorating his homeship. "Were you in the army?"

"The air force, but yes." The osprey said, as he continued to set up the board, "I still do consulting work for them on occasion... help review program proposals, that sort of thing. It's actually not as interesting as it might sound."

"Mhm." I grunted. The manual was dense with figures, illustrations and small print; there was no way I was going to be able to do anything but skim it before we played. It was by far the most complicated board game I had ever seen; it rivaled the depth and complexity of some computer games I used to play. It seemed like each player had to simultaneously manage the political, economic, scientific and military aspects of running a small war; no wonder the Venian military thought it taught strategic thinking.

Eventually, everything was in place and I felt comfortable enough to give the game a try. I could tell that Tirian was going easy on me, contrary to his previous assertion. He corrected my most obvious mistakes and gave me hints and tips on strategy, withheld his attacks and didn't seize upon any of my weaknesses, except when he was trying to make a point. After the first hour or so, I was beginning to get the hang of things; on paper, it looked like I was beating him. But the osprey had an awful lot of unplayed cards in his claws...

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Tirian asked, as he considered his next move.

"Not at all." I said.

Tirian spoke quietly, carefully. "What was it like, being a slave?"

I was briefly tempted to correct Tirian- tell him that technically I still was a slave- but it didn't seem appropriate. "Well... it was a lot better than jail. You got a lot of exercise and they paid for your health care. But you're not a person; you're property. Everyone treats you like a thing, until it's hard not to think of yourself the same way...."

There was deep, angry disgust in his eyes. "What crime did you commit? To be made a slave?" Tirian asked.

"Crime? I didn't commit any crimes."

He raised a feathered eyebrow. "Then why were you enslaved?"

This is not a topic I am particularly fond of, as you might imagine. "Well..."

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, James." Tirian said, flipping through the cards his hand. His eyes were still on me, though.

"No... it's alright. Actually, my family used to be quite wealthy, but a few bad business deals combined with some nasty luck in the market put us deep in debt. We were put into slavery by the court, to pay it off."

"When was this? How old were you?" Tirian asked, his voice rising.

"Seven years ago; I was just turning seventeen at the..." I responded.

"You were put in slavery because of your parent's debt?" Tirian asked, incredulous. "That is the most... reprehensible, absurd thing I've ever heard!"

"Well... that's how things are in Amyr. I was a dependant at the time, so I had to take on a share of it. Until we pay off our debt, we're all at the mercy of the bank."

"And how much is that, exactly?"

I did a quick bit of math in my head. "Well... it depends. If you adjust for inflation and interest, it comes out to be about... two point two million in gold dollars. Assuming all goes well, we should have it all paid off in... another eleven years or so, assuming economic conditions start improving soon. I just wish that the interest rates weren't so high..."

"Eleven more years!?" Tirian gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. The price of freedom is being free to make mistakes, as they say." I said. It was an expression that the corporate schools taught us at an early age.

"Your people have an odd way of defining freedom, James." Tirian grumbled. "Do... you still talk with your family?"

"Actually... no. I... I send them letters still, but I haven't ever heard back from them. I think they are too ashamed of what happened..." I said.

I sort of surprised myself when I told Tirian; I hadn't ever told anyone about this secret. Most of the time, I just told my masters that I was an orphan. But for some reason, the look of empathy and concern on the beaked face of the avian made me feel... comfortable. He might not have been human, but he didn't seem to care that I was just a slave.

"Well, I am sorry for that, James." Tirian said, sincerely. "I'm sure that they are still concerned for your well-being, wherever they are."

"Yes, I know." I said. I hoped it was true. It was a relief when conversation shifted back to the game.

My invasion of Tirian's southern border went smoothly, initially.

"Bold move..." He said, withdrawing his forces there.

I wondered why he didn't stand and fight, until my tanks ran straight into a hidden minefield. But it only cost my massive army time, and my helicopter units quickly laid waste to his retreating forces. He started picking the helicopters out of the air with jet fighters, until my mobile SAM launchers finally caught up with my main force. I was making a lot of small, tactical errors and letting the weight of my army do everything for me. It wasn't very elegant, but it was working.

Nonetheless, I kept wondering what the hell was in his hand. He had been buying and saving those special cards all game, while I had invested most of my resources in tanks and attack helicopters. It was a mighty force, one that dwarfed Tirian's comparatively paltry army. Still... if he was going to give me a shot at winning, I had to take it

"That's quite an army you have there." Tirian said evenly, as his keen eyes surveyed the board.

"There's an old Amyrian saying," I said as I mobilized my forces, "strength always carries the day."

The next turn I found out what Tirian had in reserve. He blew up all of my SAM batteries with stealth bombers. Then, he deployed every last one of his paratroopers on top of my headquarters and sank the bridge leading to it with another airstrike. I had put it on an isolated island to keep it safe, but now I couldn't come to its rescue!

The game was all but over after that. I ruefully tipped over the blocky gamepiece that represented my headquarters as it fell before the lightning-quick onslaught.

"Here's a saying we used to have in the military: 'if at first you don't succeed, call in an airstrike'. Good game." Tirian said, giving me a wry smile. He extended his scaled hand out to shake mine, which I accepted. His rough scales felt weird as they rubbed against my palm, but the gesture was so friendly it didn't bother me much.

When I looked over at the grandfather clock next to the fireplace I noticed to my astonishment that it was nearly 2 in the morning. We had been playing for almost six straight hours!

Tirian handed me the thick manual. "You didn't do too badly for your first game, but a little reading wouldn't hurt."

"Er... thanks." I said, yawning as fatigue caught up with me.

We wished each other goodnight and went to go to sleep, but once I got into bed, I found myself absorbed in the fantastically detailed gamebook. When I finally fell asleep, I had read almost a third of it.

**** Chapter III ****

The next day I woke up only to find out- to my utter horror- that I had slept for eleven straight hours. Eleven hours! By the saints, what had gotten into me!? Two days on my new assignment, and already I was starting to let myself get lazy! It took a great deal of willpower to roll out of bed; my feet felt heavy and my bones sore, although I had no idea why. It wasn't like I was doing much work for my new mas... for Tirian. I could only have wondered how any of my old masters would have reacted to me oversleeping so long.

The next week seemed to just fly by when Tirian's shipment of plants arrived. My gardenwork became much more difficult with the inclusion of the sapphire bushes. They were very unique and very strange plants; they could only thrive in mild climates but high elevations. It had many useful medicinal properties- owning to its quasi-magical nature- but it was notoriously difficult to grow. You had to care for the herb bushes like they were kittens in order to get them to bloom properly. From what I had read online, most pharmaceutical companies used less-efficacious but much cheaper synthetic compounds instead; real, thriving bushes were worth a small fortune.

I had never seen a sapphire bush before, but they looked awfully mundane for something so rare and expensive. It looked a lot like a sword fern, but with thicker fronds and patches of dark blue along the edge of its leaves. Every once in a while, one of the plants would sway or twitch, reacting to some change in their environment as we unloaded them. According to the internet article I had read, the quasi-magical plants had intelligence roughly equal to that of an ant. They could even react to touch; in fact they really liked being pet. Sometimes the growing fronds would wrap themselves around your finger, or brush against your arm. The first time it happened it scared the hell out of me but once I got used to the plants it was pretty cool. However, the biggest problem was that the amount of attention they required was absurd; every second they had sunlight they were active.

Every morning I would wake up with the rising sun to tend to the strange plants. It really was a beautiful sight, to see the sun slowly light up the ocean beneath us. You could see the warm glow dance across the water as the heavens turned a ruddy gold, the dark and cold of night abjured as if by divine decree. Far off to the west, near where it rose, I could sometimes make out the very edge of the Amyrian coastline in the distance, when the sky was particularly clear. The further north we travelled, the rockier and more mountainous the vista became. We were nearing Venia.

My feelings on leaving my home country behind were mixed. On one hand, I'd never really lived anywhere besides Amyr and the very idea of travelling to a country as foreign as Venia was unnerving to me. Avians made up a majority of the population there, with small minorities of humans and scaly folk. On the other hand, my homeland had seen fit to make me into a slave. It was something I had always been deeply embarrassed by, but I'd never really considered it to be wrong- fundamentally wrong- like Tirian did. Living with him was giving me a new perspective on things, although my new feelings were still inchoate. I had a lot of time to think about them, at least.

During my free time, I studied the 'Advanced Tactical Warfare' manual as if it was a holy text, trying to absorb the myriad rules and strategies that defined the game's depth. We played three more games during the week, each of which took the better part of a day to finish. The first of these did not go well for me; I couldn't keep up with Tirian's forces after he did a ferocious technology rush. The second game I lost nearly as badly as the first; Tirian blew my tanks and infantry to pieces with a fleet of bombers. But on the third game, my luck finally changed.

Initially, I had a lucky break with my economy and my research projects, but it was quickly overshadowed by a series of increasingly bad defeats on the battlefield. Tirian was using a careful strategy of hit and run on my fortified positions, whittling them down and then withdrawing before I could counterattack. By the time I had repositioned my forces, he had driven me into a headlong retreat. Still... my economic and technological power gave me a shot at winning. Tirian had sunk almost all his resources into air units and I knew there had to be a way to take advantage of his lopsided force.

I took a minute's pause to check the thick rulebook, and then double-checked it. Yes, there was one thing that I could do with a little more time...

I bided my time carefully, preserving as much of my battered military as I could while Tirian drove me back towards my headquarters. When he was on the verge of breaking my lines, everything was ready. I played all four technological breakthrough cards in my hand at once, and then revealed my secret weapon. My fingers were trembling with anticipation as I dug out the heavy metal piece that represented a nuclear missile from the inside of the game box. It was painted in ominous shades of red, black and yellow. Tirian had a formidable battery of anti-ballistic missiles around his capital city, but he certainly wasn't expecting this surprise...

"So that's what you've been working all game! Are you going to try and blow me back to the stone age?" Tirian asked, double checking his defenses.

"No... just the iron age." I said with an evil smile, moving my pieces. Instead of firing the missile at his capital like he expected, I shot it straight into space and let the electromagnetic pulse wash over the battlefield. Every last air unit that Tirian had on the map crashed immediately. Most of my tanks were disabled too, but my infantry were free to sweep over the board virtually unopposed.

"You rotten scoundrel!" Tirian said in shock, laughing. "You clever bastard!"

"Hah! Thank you very much!" I laughed back. His headquarters quickly fell before my waves of infantry.

"Well played, James! I can't believe I didn't see that coming!" Tirian said, shaking my hand. I shook his white hand back proudly. "That was excellent lateral thinking!"

"Uh... actually, to be honest I read something like that in a book one time." I admitted, still smiling.

"Regardless, you implemented it quite well. Execution is as important as anything else, you know." The raptor said, beginning the laborious process of putting the game back in its box. "I'm relieved, you know..."

"Oh? Why?"

"Because, young man", Tirian said, giving me an evil, predatory smile, "now I know you can challenge me. I can stop holding back."

Damn it all to hell; I should have seen that coming!

Nonetheless, I found myself relishing my first win. It might just have been a victory in a boardgame, but I couldn't remember the last time I had felt such pride in myself. I had only known Tirian for a little more than a week, but I can't tell you how nice it was to be treated like a real person again. We ate together, worked together, talked together, and played games together; he never even made a single demand of me. Everything- even the gardening that I had ostensibly been bought to perform- was a request, one that I strongly suspected that I could refuse without consequence. Even though I didn't, just knowing that I could was liberating. The avian's philosophizing about flight and freedom was a lot more than just empty rhetoric; it was who he was.

For a servant I had become awfully prone to oversleeping and overeating, but he never once complained. The only things that seemed to really annoy him were reminders of my slavehood, but that was a subject I wasn't particularly fond of either. After six years of slavery obsequious behavior had become almost reflexive to me, but after letting it all go I couldn't bear to return to it. He never talked much about his career in the military, and I never talked all that much about my earlier masters or my family's old business.

Despite his reluctance to discuss his career in the military, he crushed me nine times out of ten when we played the Venian wargame. Every time we played I learned a little bit more- and occasionally I gave him a real run for his money- but I'll be damned if the raptor didn't know how to fly circles around me strategically.

Lastly... well...

It's an open secret in Amyr that about half of all people who buy slaves are looking for a sex toy. Ostensibly, sexually exploiting a slave is grounds for terminating a slave-contract, but in practice it never happens except in the very worst of situations. I'd had my fair share of experiences with this rather unpleasant practice, but to be completely honest I was sort of hoping that Tirian wanted to sleep with me. I mean, there was something strangely beautiful about his sleek and deadly raptorial figure that I just couldn't shake. From his plumage to his sharp claws, I found the avian's body utterly entrancing. Strangely, he didn't seem to pick up on any of the signals I tried to send him. Maybe he wasn't attracted to men? Was he not attracted to humans?

Ah well; it had been a very nice week overall. And as it turns out, I can whip his tail at 'Scrabble'!

**** Chapter IV ****

The next day, I awoke from oversleeping (yet again) only to find that we had company onboard. I took a quick shower and then made my way to the kitchen, the smell of lunch and the sound of conversation echoing though the hallway. When I walked in, I could see that Tirian was talking with a boisterous eagle avian, the two of them enjoying a repast of salmon sandwiches and coffee. A third plate sat on the table, clearly intended for me.

"Tirian, you didn't tell me your assistant was a human! Good morning, young man!" Tirian's guest said.

The avian had the same raptorial figure as my osprey master, but unlike Tirian's complex plumage he was covered in dark brown feathers save for a patch of ruddy golden-brown on his head. The eagle was considerably stouter than Tirian, and his beak, claws and talons were larger and sharper as well. He wore an olive drab vest and a strange, bulky pair of shorts that left his talons and tailfeathers uncovered. Neat rows of medals and insignias were stitched across the top of his chest.

"James, this is Major Harnan Laikes, of the Venian air force." Tirian said, introducing his guest. Tirian looked completely at ease, but I was absolutely certain that the half-wink that he gave me when we made eye contact meant that keeping our particular... business arrangement... a secret would be a good idea.

"Pleased to meet you, sir." I said, respectfully shaking his yellow, scaled hand. His grip was bone-crushingly tight, but I had been expecting it. Even through the major's feathers, I could see the sinewy muscle around his claws.

"So this is the unfortunate soul you hired to help with your gardening, eh?" the eagle said, giving me a friendly but hard slap on the back which I had definitely *not* been expecting. "You have my sympathies James; old Tirian used to be quite the slavedriver! You should have seen the training exercises he used to run..."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tirian wince when his old friend used the word 'slavedriver', but I managed to take the comment in stride. I pride myself on my equanimity.

"...made the colonel go nuts. He refused to train his soldiers on the same course more than once, so he would either change it himself or 'borrow' one from an army base- without letting anyone else know, mind you! I got a call on the emergency line one night from some poor NCO who thought we had been invaded, only to find out it was Tirian on another of his midnight training missions! Saints, you should have heard the kid! I think he was hiding under his desk when he called!"

"Oh come on; you make it sound like you weren't complicit!" Tirian said, with mock indignation. "Somehow, I was never formally reprimanded for any of those 'outrageous breaches of professional protocol', as you called them..."

"Hah, yeah! You know how much I hate pissing off army brass!" Harnan said sardonically. Both of the avians were laughing riotously at the recollection; it was so contagious that I joined them.

"Heh, wow! Did the army ever retaliate?" I asked.

"Actually, yeah. They stole our goddamn mascot! We had this dog... what was her name, Tirian?"

"Steve?" Tirian said, laughing. "I loved that dog!"

"Get this: we're outside the bar after a bachelor party for one of the men that got, uh, a little out of hand. Tirian falls into a bush, and when we pull him out he's holding this fuckin' puppy!" the major said, pantomiming everything with his claws. "He looks up at us as this mongrel dog is licking his beak, and announces in the most serious voice I'd ever heard..."

The major adopted a look of utter solemnity, straightening the plumage on his head.

"...'he told me his name is Steve. And he shall be... our leader!' Can you fuckin' believe that?" the major said, laughing so hard his feathers were shaking. "Of course, we later found out the dog was a girl, but by then the name had stuck..."

Tirian was holding his beak shut with his hands, trying not to laugh and failing miserably.

"Ah, I'm sorry; I shouldn't embarrass Captain Zavant any further!" the eagle said to me, taking a sip of his coffee. "How are your sapphires doing, by the by? You two are in for some hard work; those plants are fickle bastards. I've never had a lick of luck growing them."

"What? I thought you said you had several dozen plants?" Tirian enquired.

Major Harnan averted his eyes. "Well... yeah, but I never said they were still alive..."

"Oh hell," Tirian said, rubbing his eyes, "we're doing our best; we'll see how it goes."

"I've noticed you have to treat them more like pets than plants." I added. "They need a lot of attention and care; they can tell when you're just going through the motions."

"Very interesting; I'll remember that if I ever give it another try. On the sunny side, if you fuck it up they make excellent compost. Excellent but very, very expensive compost." The eagle said, with a trace of bitterness in his voice. "Oh, before I forget, do you have those reports ready? The hard copies, I mean?"

"Yeah, let me go print them off." Tirian said, finishing off his coffee before departing from the kitchen table.

"Hey," the eagle whispered to me, once Tirian was out of sight, "you seem like a nice kid James; you take care of Tirian for me, alright?"

Well, that was cryptic. "Uh... yeah, of course."

"Whatever you're doing, keep it up. I haven't seen him this lively in years." The major said, patting me on the shoulder. "But just in case, I'm going to leave you my phone number, James. If it looks like he needs some help, you give me a call, okay?"

What... what was I supposed to make of that? Tirian seemed more than fine; if anything, he was the one who had been helping me out.

I considered letting the whole matter go, but I was too concerned for the osprey's well-being to let something like that go. "Wait... sir? What exactly are you talking about?"

"Hmm... he didn't mention anything to you?" the eagle asked. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised; he always was a quiet bastard. But it ain't healthy to keep everything bottled up an' hidden; festers like a bleeding wound..."

From my own experience, that was certainly true. But what was Tirian hiding? "No, he didn't mention anything to me, but I could tell that something wasn't quite right..."

"That's because he ain't quite right. I'm going to give it to you straight kid; Tirian had to give a very bad order one day, and it resulted in the death of five of his men. He... didn't take it well. Dropped from active service, straight into retirement. He never talked to me about it, never talked to the military psychiatrist, never talked to any of his family or his friends..."

"What!?"

"...yeah. I don't know; it isn't the sort of thing anyone likes to talk about, but to just keep everything bottled up like that was crazy. He's been living like a goddamn hermit these last six years. I don't think Tirian ever forgave himself for what happened. I mean, I wouldn't worry *too* much; he's a pretty tough bird. Just... keep an eye open, okay?"

"Yes sir, I'll do what I can." I replied.

"Alright, good to hear. You're one of the nicest Amyrian's I've ever met, no offense intended..." he said, suddenly raising his voice to full volume as Tirian walked back toward the room. "...and I have some more wine and coffee for you, Tirian! It's on my plane."

"Fantastic!" Tirian said, laughing. "Harnan, I must say you make the best wines..."

"Really? The wife keeps threatening to burn down the vineyard, but then again she's more of a beer drinker." the major said, chuckling.

The three of us talked together and nursed our lunches for nearly two hours, but despite the lively conversation I was worried sick. After everything he had done for me, I had to find some way to help Tirian.

**** Chapter V ****

Despite pledging to help Tirian however I could, his reticence was tough to crack. Every time I brought up his career or past he either tried to steer us toward a different subject or became quiet. Still... I thought I was making some sort of progress. We had gotten pretty comfortable living with each other, save for a few small hang-ups.

For one thing... well...

Let me put it like this: when you live with an osprey, you have to get used to eating fish.

I'm not joking; we've had fish almost every meal. Luckily I had picked up quite a talent for cooking over the years and The Pride of the Clouds had a good, well-stocked kitchen. Fish tacos, fish omelets, pan fried fish, fish sandwiches, fish steaks, fish chowder, fish sushi, fish pasta, fish salad... I did my best to keep the menu diverse. The few times we had red meat or something vegetarian for dinner were a blessing, even though I got the sneaking suspicion that Tirian only did it for my benefit. Almost every time we had a meal without seafood in it, I saw him sneaking raw chunks of fish from the fridge.

Still, watching him soar off into the ocean spray below in search of dinner was always an impressive sight. It was even more impressive when he returned with a fish the size of a sheep.

"What... do you... think?" Tirian panted, shaking water off his feathers. He looked exhausted but triumphant, a massive tuna in his arms. "You wouldn't believe... how much of a fight this... damn tuna gave me!"

"Good evening Tirian, how was... holy shit! Are you okay?" I said, surprised. On one hand, I was seriously impressed that the avian could fly while holding something that big, but on the other I quickly realized I was going to have to eat tuna for the better part of a month.

The osprey replied with a weary chuckle. "Ahhh.... Yeah, I found it... a couple kilometers away. Hard to fly with... heavy fish."

Tirian staggered from the doorway and plopped the enormous albacore on the kitchen counter, before collapsing onto his couch with a loud moan. He hadn't even bothered to fold his black-topped wings back before lying down; it was quite the sight to see the waterlogged avian draped across an antique piece of furniture.

"Heh, uh, can I get you a towel?" I asked, laughing.

"Sounds... good idea." He replied, still trying to catch his breath.

"Okay, one second@!" I said, dashing towards the hall closet.

I pulled a pair of big towels from out of the hall closet and came back, handing one to Tirian and using the other to wipe down his wet wings. I dragged it down his feathers with the grain, from the top of his back all the way down to his tailfeathers before rubbing his talons. The powerful claws were slick and smelled strongly of fish; they looked worn out from lugging that tuna back to the airship. Tirian was still shivering from the cold when he finished drying off, so I microwaved some water for tea and then started a fire in the living room fireplace.

"Thanks James." Tirian said as I handed him the tea. He grabbed one of the cushions off the side of the couch and pulled it under his head as he stretched himself out. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good; I was reading the paper online." I said. "Well, that and taking care of the plants."

"Good, good. Anything interesting in the news?" he asked.

"Actually, yeah. Something about a border skirmish in Venia, between them and one of the naga tribes."

"Oh hell, not that again." Tirian said, sighing. "Damn fools."

"The nagas?" I asked.

"Everyone." Tirian grumbled, as he searched for the television remote. "Everyone who thinks fighting is going to solve anything is a damn fool, if you ask me."

"Really? I'd think you'd side with your country on..." I started to say.

Tirian was irate. "I *am* siding with my country! The border there has been disputed for three decades; it's a waste of time and lives to think anything is going to change there overnight, or without some sort of compromise. Of course fighting is sometimes necessary, but war is an ugly, awful, bloody business. Before you send anyone off to kill or be killed, you better be damn sure you've tried everything else!"

Tirian changed his tone when he saw how discomforted I was.

"Sorry James; I didn't mean to go off on you like that." Tirian sighed. "When you've actually seen combat, jingoism really loses its luster."

I frowned, considering my words a little more carefully. "What were you helping the major with? Those reports?"

"It isn't related to the border, if that's what you're asking. He just wanted my input on some policy changes, that's all." he replied, still concentrating on his feet. Despite the scales covering them and my near-complete ignorance about avian physiology, I could tell they looked pretty tender. "James, could you do me a favor and grab the scale cream from my bathroom?" Tirian asked. "My feet are killing me."

"Yeah, sure thing." I said. I went down the hall past his room into the master bathroom.

It only took me a few minutes of rummaging through his toiletries to find the analgesic lotion. The black-green tube had a picture of a stylized python-naga on it- which threw me off for a bit- but the directions on the back said that it could be used on anything with scales.

I brought the tube back to Tirian and threw it towards him; he dexterously snatched it out of the air.

"Ah... thank you." he said, as he began rubbing the cream into his feet. The osprey flexed and wiggled his toes out as he rubbed the deadly appendages, trying to shake out the tension in them. Once again, I found myself riveted by the raptor's inhuman splendor.

"Tirian? Could... could I ask you something?" I began to ask, a strange yearning building in my mind as I watched him rub his feet.

"Yes?"

"Do you want a foot massage?"

At first he looked quite alarmed, but after a few seconds of indecision Tirian gave me a guilty smile. "James... just to be absolutely clear, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, but that sounds really nice."

"No, really; I'd be happy to! Honest!" I said, moving closer to the couch. I usually hated having to give massages to my masters, but taking care of Tirian felt like another matter entirely. I don't know; this may sound weird but I really wanted to feel his feet with my own hands.

"Well... okay." He said, still a little uncomfortable.

I kneeled down in front of the couch, taking the tube of scale cream from him as he handed it to me. I put a big dollop of the strange, jelly-like cream in my hands, warming it up. It burned like hell and made my fingers feel numb, but it also felt strangely good. Once both of my hands were thoroughly covered in the warmed scale cream, I slowly took hold of Tirian's left foot. I wasn't quite sure where to begin; I'd never massaged anyone but another human before.

Tirian had four powerful, white-scaled talons tipped with sharp black claws. Unlike some of the other avian-folk I had seen, his talons were extremely flexible despite their size and strength. I massaged them two at a time with my hands, squeezing and rubbing the rough scales as hard as I could. The underside was considerably coarser than the top- it was actually kind of prickly to the touch- but from Tirian's reactions I could tell that was where he was the most sore. It took a great deal of care to keep from getting scratched, but I was able to knead the coarse bottom scales of his toes with my thumbtips. Eventually, I managed to coax the stiffness and soreness from the hard, armored feet.

"Ahhh... that feels wonderful..." Tirian mumbled blissfully, offering his right foot to me.

I gave him a happy smirk, putting a few fresh squirts of scale cream into my hands as I went to work on his other foot. I worked my way down each talon, slowly wringing the stress right out of his tender toes. The strength of his prehensile feet dwarfed that of my hands; little wonder Tirian made quick work of the fish he caught for us. Even just holding them when they were slack was a little scary. It felt funny that someone as kind, intellectual, and considerate as Tirian had talons that could easily rip apart a grown man.

Pouring some more scale cream into my hands, I finished the massage by rubbing up and down the bottom of the osprey's scaled legs. I started at the very top- near where they joined his feet- and stroked them up toward where his feathers began to grow, then worked my way back down. Tirian looked like he was on the verge of falling blissfully asleep; I almost laughed when I saw a tiny trickle of drool drip down the side of his open beak. Then... I found my eyes drifting southward.

Except for the full-body robe that he sometimes wore, his clothing was very sparse. He relied mostly on his natural feathers to preserve his warmth and modesty; even his underbelly was covered in fluffy layers of white down. I had the strongest urge to touch the soft feathers there, press through them until I could feel the warmth of his skin...

His eyes opened up again as he shifted position on the couch, and I quickly averted my own.

"By the saints, how am I going to repay you for that?" Tirian asked, wiping the drool off his beak with a feathered forearm.

"You've done more than enough for me already." I said, chuckling a bit. The osprey looked so happy and lethargic. "I just thought I should do something for you."

"Come now, I insist..." Tirian said, cryptically. He did a lazy roll off the couch until he was crouched next to me, and then prodded me onto the couch where he had been resting. With a few deft tugs, he pulled off my shoes and socks.

"Oh, no; really Tirian, you don't have to do..." I started to say. My denial felt half-hearted as best. For some reason my own feet had been pretty sore recently, though I couldn't say why.

"I don't have to do anything, I know. But I want to. Reciprocation is very import for us avians, you know..." he said, squirting some of the scale cream into his clawed hands.

His short, blunt claws on his hands rubbed against the side of my feet as he began to rub them, the rough scales on his hands making them feel like natural massage gloves. He pressed hard against the bottom of my heel and then slowly made his way up my arch toward the front, lavishing attention on every single centimeter. His rough, forceful ministrations felt strange, but so good...

He stopped quite suddenly when reached my toes,

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He gave a rather uncharacteristic snigger as he rubbed them with his black claws. "Sorry; they're just so... tiny!"

"What do you expect!? I'm a human, not a raptor!" I huffed back.

"Yes, but... I mean, just look at these!" he laughed, as he wiggled my smallest toe between his clawtips.

"Oh, shut the hell up!" I shouted with coy anger. "At least I don't smell like fish two-thirds of the day!"

"And what is wrong with that!? Fish smells wonderful!" Tirian countered, as he resumed his footrub.

Teasing aside, it felt fantastic to be on the receiving end of a massage for once. Like me, he wasn't entirely sure how to rub the unfamiliar footparts, but eventually learned what felt good to me through experimentation. The scale-cream warmed my skin up something fierce, but it did feel quite good. When he finished, every last bit of soreness inside my bones disappeared, the powerful analgesic making them feel warm, numb and relaxed.

"Ahhh... Tirian, that was great." I said, thanking him.

"You are very welcome." There was a strangely wistful look in his eyes, like he was looking for something very far away. It looked like he was either about to kiss me or burst into tears. I dearly hoped it was the former...

As it turned out, he did neither. "I...I should get the tuna in the freezer." He said awkwardly.

"Y-yeah, of course." I replied, just as uneasily. I hoped that the perceptive raptor didn't notice the half-formed erection in my pants.

Tirian got up and stretched, ruffling his feathers until they were smooth and flush against his body again. As he walked toward the kitchen on his splayed talons, I resolved to redouble my efforts to get him to open up.

**** Chapter VI ****

That night, everything came crashing down.

I couldn't help being curious about Tirian's past; I wanted to help him so badly. When he went to sleep that night, I snuck into his study and tried to find some sort of record or report or something on what happened. While I didn't find anything about the tragedy the major mentioned, I did stumble across a steel case of magic potions hidden inside his desk. Two of the glass bottles were empty, but a lambent, green-gold liquid flowed inside the remaining fourteen like quicksilver snakes.

Suddenly, the fact that I had been overeating without gaining any weight and oversleeping without feeling particularly energetic seemed very, very suspicious. Had Tirian been secretly dosing me with something!? But what, and why!?

I could feel my stomach turning inside my belly as I imagined a thousand possible betrayals. I didn't know much about magic, but a spell that took a great deal of time and alchemical ingredients to activate was powerful indeed. Technically, the slave-contract that he owned gave him broad discretion over my person... if he wanted to do something to me, I couldn't stop it unless I could convince the bank it would hurt their property. But I couldn't imagine the osprey ever wishing me harm. It was going to be very hard to confront him.

I didn't sleep at all that night. When I went to go make breakfast in the morning, my hands were shaking and my skin felt clammy with fear and uncertainty. Even with the incriminating evidence resting heavily in my pocket, I thought that Tirian had to have a good explanation.

"Hey, James!" he said, excitedly. "There are a whole pod of orcas underneath us; you should see them! I think I have a telescope somewhere around here..."

Should... could I just ignore what I had found? I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to hear a tearful confession or angry denial; I just wanted to pretend that nothing was happening and go on living with him. I'd never had such a kind and caring master before. But was master even the right word? He treated me more like a friend than a slave. I... I wanted to trust him so badly...

But I had to. I had to know.

"Tirian... what is this?" I asked, putting one of the glass potion bottles on the kitchen counter.

The raptor looked at the bottle and then at me. A horrible look of shock, horror and sorrow struck him like a physical blow.

"It's... okay. Just tell me what's going on; I just want to know." I said.

"James... I... I need to talk to you. I have a confession to make, James. I... I haven't been completely honest with you about my intentions." Tirian said, with a great and weary sigh.

The osprey turned towards the kitchen window. He opened it up, letting cool morning air blow into the kitchen. From off in the distance, I could hear the nasal squawking of a faraway albatross.

"Why? What do you mean, Tirian!?" I asked him, trying to suppress my panic.

"Do you remember when I told you that I needed a companion, not a slave?" he asked back, wet feathers flapping in the gentle evening breeze.

"Yes! Were... were you lying to me?"

"I... I was trying to..." he said, stumbling on his words. "I... I wanted to turn you into a hawk."

"What!?" I gasped. "Are you serious!?"

"Y-yes." Tirian said. He looked sick with shame and weakness.

Of all the things that I could have heard from Tirian just then, that he wanted to transform me into one of his people was one of the most unexpected. How did I feel?

Saints, that was a hard question to answer. I was hurt by the betrayal of trust that it represented, but... not as much as you might imagine. He was so beautiful... what would it have been like..?

"But... why? Why me? Why a... slave?"

"A long time ago, when... when I was in the military..." Tirian started to say, and then stopped. His voice had nearly cracked with emotion. He was silent for a long time, staring out into the endless expanse of open ocean.

When I couldn't take the silence any longer, I broke it myself. "Tirian, what happened? Major Harnan told me a few of the details. If that has anything to do with it... just tell me. Let it out. I'll try and understand, I promise."

Tirian took a deep breath, and then began. "Six years ago, there was some... political trouble within Venia. I don't know if you heard of it; it was right around when you were forced into slavery."

"No, I didn't hear anything about it." I replied. I was far too occupied with my own troubles at the time.

"There was a... terrorist organization within Venia. It was a grisly patchwork of secessionists, anarchists, anti-technology and anti-human groups. Most of them were just angry people who didn't like the government, but the movement had a lunatic fringe in it that really, truly wanted to do something horrific. Somehow they created a quasi-magical bioweapon; a virulent, sentient, disease. Saints only know where they god the magitech or the idea to do it..." Tirian sighed, slumping against the windowpane. "I never told you what I did in the military, did I?" Tirian asked.

I shook my head.

"Air force special forces. We did a lot of counterterrorist work; we were the ones sent in to root out the cancer at its source. But we only found out about that mage-plague after the attack began. During the firefight, it broke out of its container and... it began to spread, like a wildfire. I... I was the ranking commander in the field; I had to stop it. I didn't have any choice, you see? All the lives that weapon threatened? It didn't matter that I was the one in charge; there was only one order to give..."

Tirian went quiet again.

"What did you do?" I asked, trying to encourage him to continue.

Slowly, the osprey turned around and looked at me, "We hit the compound with a hafnium mininuke, a quarter-kiloton in yield... it was the only thing that we had that could stop it. Five of my men were still inside when I gave the order to destroy it."

"Tirian... you can't blame yourself for what happened." I said. Tirian still looked remarkably... collected. Was this really what had been haunting him for all these years?

"I know I shouldn't. I shouldn't... but saints know I can't change." he said. "But... that is... not the whole of it."

He walked over to the robe hanging on the rack near the kitchen and retrieved his wallet. After a few seconds of digging in it, his shaking claws pulled a picture out from inside the folds. He handed it to me carefully.

It was crinkled from too much handling and worn out by exposure to sunlight, but I could make out most of the details. Six Venian commandos were lined up in a neat group, dressed in light body armor and wielding assault carbines. Kneeling in the middle of the group was a young man who bore a slight resemblance to me, save for the large auburn wings growing out of his shoulders and the talons on his shoeless feet. They looked stoic at first glance, but I could see the telltale traces of avian smiles on each of their faces. The half-human was giving the camera a broad, expressive smirk, holding his gun with one hand and giving a thumbs-up with the other.

"His name was Matthias." Tirian said, pointing toward the half-human with one of his claws. "He was a former Amyrian slave, but he fled the country to Venia. He had his body magically altered just so that he could join the air force..."

There was a look of great and terrible loss in his eyes, sorrow that was only magnified by their avian sharpness.

"You were lovers?" I asked. Slowly, things were starting to make sense.

"Y... yes. He... he was the bravest man I ever knew, but he was kind-hearted as well. He was a born a human, but he... he... he was..."

Hot tears were pouring down his beak as he spoke. Tirian didn't look like a predator or beast; he looked like any other man who had been hurt. I felt utterly disgusted at myself for ever thinking of him as less than human.

"James, I loved him. I loved him so much. The military... forbids fraternization... and some of my people don't look kindly upon cross-species relationships. You... you are the first person I've ever told; no one... no one else ever knew. When he died... it was like it had never happened..."

Six years of pent-up regret were pouring forth from the poor osprey. "Oh saints, Tirian. I'm so sorry..."

I gave him a hug. Despite his size and strength, he was surprisingly light. Even though he towered over me, I could have easily picked him up. He awkwardly, slowly returned the hug, gently embracing my shoulders as he continued silently crying.

"I'm sorry, James; I was stupid and selfish and... by the saints, I don't know what I was thinking!" Tirian said pulling himself back and hitting the wall with his clenched claws. "I bought you as a slave! I... I put those potions into your food! If Matthias could see me now, he wouldn't recognize a damn thing! Please... just... you don't have to forgive me, but at least understand why I did what I did..."

"Tirian..." I started.

His ardent pleading interrupted me again. "I just wanted to say goodbye to him in person! I... I just wanted to see his face again. Was that so much to ask?" Tirian's black-banded eyes were cloudy and red with tears. "I'm sorry James. By all that is, I'm sorry..."

I moved back toward him, putting my arm on his shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. "It's okay."

Tirian was staring at his picture. Tears were still flowing down his eyes, but he had managed to compose himself. "I'm going to release you from your servitude. I'm going to pay off your debt and free you. I... owe it to you. I owe it to Matthias."

"What!? Tirian, you couldn't possibly do that! We owe the bank a fortune!" I protested.

"No, I insist. I'll have to ask my sister for most of the money, but it is certainly doable..."

I was shocked. "You would do that for me? Your sister would just *give* you two million in gold dollars?"

"Of course she would. It's only money..." Tirian said, wiping his eyes dry. "I'll... I'll take you back home next week."

I was left speechless. Something inside me broke just then, like an aging dam.

In Amyr, the great corporations decided the elections, owned slaves, and hired or fired workers depending on the vagaries of the market. Everything they did- and everything most people in Amyr did- was to accumulate wealth. Concepts like shareholder value and market capitalization were taught to children from their earliest years. I don't know how much different I am from my countrymen, but it all felt so bloody stupid to me. I never really wanted to be rich; I just wanted to be happy. Standing in front of me was this foreign creature, this osprey-person. Tirian had had wings, feathers, talons and a beak; he looked nothing like me or any of my old friends or family. And yet he seemed so much more... human than the Amyrians I knew.

I felt lightheaded and my chest felt tight as I began to speak. "Tirian... what if I didn't want to go back home? What if I wanted to stay with you? What if... what if I actually wanted to be a hawk?"

He was surprised. "What? Why?"

"I... I like you a lot. I think you're beautiful and kind and... saints, Tirian. You know that I can't be Matthias. I can't change who I am on the inside any more than you can. But... do you like me for who I am? Because if you do, then I want to be with you."

"I do, James; I truly do. But how could you ever love an old bird like me?" Tirian asked, incredulous. "After what I've done?"

"It's because of what you've done." I said to him, leaning forward and lightly kissing the side of his black beak. He flinched a bit as I did so, but gave me a tearful smile when I pulled away.

For three hours we sat in the kitchen and talked. It was a pure, unabashed outpouring of long-suppressed fears and hopes, dreams and memories; a moment of complete and utter honesty. The only sound that disturbed the quiescent summer night was our conversation and the crash of the waves far beneath us. In the end, my decision held. I knew what I wanted. Of course, even Tirian was surprised when I told him what I wanted. Matthias had been a half-human, half hawk, I was going to be a full red-tailed hawk.

Everything seemed to go by so quickly, after that. I started drinking the potions one after another, as quickly as I could. In the hours after that, my lower body bloomed with the prickly beginnings of feathers, my bones ached and radiated with the burning heat of change as they became hollow. I ate another huge meal and then collapsed in exhaustion, but for the first time in my life I wasn't alone in bed. Tirian carried me from the table to his bed, stroking my hair with his powerful claws. I fell asleep with my head buried in his downy chestfeathers, surrounded by the tight embrace of his wings and the warmth of his body. The last thing I heard before I drifted off was Tirian whispering to me. He said that I was the most handsome human he had ever met, but I would make an even more beautiful bird.

**** Chapter VII ****

That morning, we made love for the first time.

My feet were the first thing to change completely. I had woken up to find that they had gotten stiffer and harder until finally the skin there indurated into rough yellow scales. My five toes had gradually melded into three broad, strong talons, and a fourth one had grown from the back of where my heel used to be. From the top of each toe, a hard black claw slowly emerged. As my legs shifted to a digitgrade stance, it became really hard to walk. Tirian took care of me as I laid nearly helpless on his bed.

"Fucking mother of hell!" I shouted in pain, laughing and crying at the same time. I had forgotten what growing pains felt like. The transformation felt a lot like them, magnified tenfold.

"Would you stop your crying and let me do this!?" Tirian shouted back, trying to hold me in place. "It can't possibly hurt that much!"

"It does! But also, it tickles!"

"Just... hold still for one minute!" Tirian said. He had a bottle of scale cream in his hands, trying to rub the powerful analgesic into my changed feet.

I had gone through a lot of other changes that night; I found it impossible to put on the jeans I had worn yesterday evening. They were simply too constricting and itchy against the feathers on my legs... not to mention my newly-grown tailfeathers.

"Uh... do you have any pants I could borrow?" I asked Tirian, covering myself up with the bedding.

"Heh, sure thing." Tirian said with a chuckle. He dug around for a few seconds in his dresser before handing me a pair of avian undergarments and pants.

After a bit of awkward fumbling and accidentally putting them on backwards twice, I managed to dress myself. The clothing was so light I almost couldn't feel it, and it certainly didn't leave much to the imagination. It was especially noticeable around my backside, where my stubby, half-grown tailfeathers poked out.

"Are you sure this is how they go?" I asked Tirian. "They seem to be a little on the small side..."

"James, do you see these?" the osprey said, trying not to laugh as he rubbed his feathered forearm. "We have feathers; our clothing is mostly supplemental. Yours haven't yet grown in all the way, which explains why you might be feeling a bit of a draft..."

As I shifted around on Tirian's bed, I caught sight of the underside of my tailfeathers. "What the hell!? I thought you said my tail would be red; this is pink!"

"It's light red!" Tirian said, laughing. "I've seen a lot of other red-tailed hawks before, and your tailfeathers look perfectly normal."

"Yeah right; I see how it is! No one wanted to call themselves a pink-tailed hawk, huh?" I said back.

"Ah, come on, James! For what it's worth I think they're cute..." he said, stroking them gently. Each stroke of his claws on the rigid, long feathers made me shudder. They were so new, so sensitive...

Even thought I wanted him very badly, I didn't want to take things too fast. But the heat of the moment, the giddy feeling of newfound freedom caught me off-guard. As he stroked my tailfeathers, I leaned over and planted a kiss right on the indurate tip of his beak. But unlike last night, I didn't stop there. I carefully forced my tongue past the sharp edge and into his mouth, wrapping my soft lips around his hard beak. It was funny how mismatched we were. But it wouldn't remain this way for very long, would it?

"Mmmh..." he moaned into my mouth, as he returned the kiss. "Does this mean what I think it does James? Are you ready to do this?"

"Absolutely. I've wanted to do this for so long..." I said, finally letting my hands roam over the downy white of his lower body...

We kissed again, avian beak and human mouth entwining awkwardly yet passionately. Underneath the sheets, I felt Tirian's powerful talons grasping my own, our rough toescales rubbing against one another. He squeezed my feet tighter and tighter as I played with his soft, down-covered sheath. I felt a fierce sense of urgency as we held each other, a long-dormant need reawakening inside me.

Tirian licked the inside of my ear, his beak and tongue tickling as he whispered to me. "What exactly do you want to do?"

I caught a glimpse of Tirian's maleness as it emerged from its home. The avian member was slick, pointed and leathery, but I already knew this. When I woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, I had, uh, 'experimented' a bit with my own changed manhood. It glistened with preseed in the morning sun...

"I... I want to taste you." I said to him, emotional and sexual hunger in my voice.

Tirian gave me a lusty smile as our eyes met again. He released his talons from mine and laid back against the bed, spreading his legs apart so that his tailfeathers were laid out in between them and his erect cock stuck prominently into the air. I pressed my face against it, letting the musky preseed cover my nose and lips before I gave it a single, tentative lick. I savored the salty, oily taste of the avian sexual fluids, swishing them around in my mouth as I buried my nose in his pubic down.

"Oh J-James!" Tirian said, shuddering with pleasure as I licked the underside of his throbbing penis again and again, each time doing so longer and harder. I swallowed down each spurt of fresh preseed the avian member gave me, wanting to be completely filled with my lover's taste.

I shifted position slightly as I prepared to take the whole thing into my mouth, Tirian's strong talons gently latching onto my shoulders and pulling me forward as I did so. Then, finally, I wrapped my lips around the tapered tip of his cock, sucking on it as my mouth enveloped it centimeter by centimeter.

I could hear the osprey's feathers shake violently as I worked his maleness, torturing it with pleasure. His claws dug into the bedsheets and his talons folded themselves behind my head, pulling me down upon him until I had taken his maleness to the very hilt. My whole face was pressed against his preseed-matted pubic down, buried in the musky smell of his feathers and the warmth of his body as deep inside my mouth his penis pulsed with fresh, ready seed. How long had it been since Tirian had sex? I couldn't say, but his hypersensitivity bespoke weeks or months of pent-up need. I eagerly continued my ministrations, each second teasing more and more precum from his maleness as he approached his peak...

"I'm... going to cum... should... pull back?" Tirian asked, panting.

I heard him speak, but my mouth was too full to respond with words. My answer was to put my hands around the small of his back- right above his stiff tailfeathers- and pull him tighter. As I did so, I drove the tip of my tongue back and forth around the tip of his cock and ever-so slightly into the slit, sucked his hard shaft as strongly as I could...

Hot, sticky cum shot from the tip of his pointed member straight down into my throat, the heavy male cream coating the inside of my mouth. His beak was agape and his eyes were closed as his climax continued, feathers rustling with every pleasured paroxysm as he came into me. The richness of male essence was the only thing I could smell or taste; the raptor's gift covering my face and filling my belly and mouth. Despite how vulgar it might sound, it felt like a really beautiful experience to me. It was wondrous to give another such pleasure, show my love with physical, sexual affection, drink their very essence down.

As I pulled away, a feathered hand wiped some of the excess cum from the sides of my mouth and chin. "Someone was hungry..."

I smiled at Tirian. "Mmhm... that was a pretty good breakfast. Better than fish."

"I hate to ruin your illusion, but it probably used to be fish." The osprey said, with a satisfied chuckle. There was a hazy gleam of warmth and affection in his sharp eyes.

I started deeply into them as I pulled him towards a kiss. "Well then, you won't mind this..."

"Certainly not..." he replied.

I pressed some of the thick seed still in my mouth into his beak as we kissed, savoring the taste of his mouth and cum at the same time.

"Still, we should probably get some real breakfast in you." Tirian said, as he went to wipe off his wet genitals. "You're going to need a lot of energy if we want to keep the changes going."

"Woah there, not so fast!" I said, gently grabbing his arm. I leaned back on the bed so that my tailfeathers were spread between my slightly-raised legs, the stiff feathers forming a perfect pink fan. "We have a whole day ahead of us, after all..."

"Yes, true." The osprey said, leaning over and nuzzling my hard maleness with his beak. I shuddered slightly, my own need still unmet.

Tirian bent me over on the bed so that my ankles were up near my shoulders, his beak and tongue teasingly probing my mostly-human upper half. The skin there was coated in a fuzzy layer of developing feathers, which gently tapered off as they ascended up my chest and got thicker and thicker as they descended toward my nether region. He loomed powerfully over me, but this raptor was looking for an entirely different kind of prey. Tirian learned down and rubbed the side of his beak against my cheeks as his claws pulled my tailfeathers downward, exposing my new tail-hole for the first time. A few spurts of warm lubricant matted them down, as one of his strong claws began to trace a teasing circle around my tight ring.

I'd never had a real lover before, just a few stupid and meaningless encounters with other slaves and the exploitive and unwanted advances of my former masters. This... this was completely different. As Tirian's deft claws coaxed my tight tailhole open and his talons held mine splayed, I felt nothing like the feeling of use I was familiar with. Every move that he made was done with inhuman power and celerity, yet loving tenderness. His sharp eyes met mine whenever he did something new, searching mine for any discomfort or reluctance before proceeding. I could feel the narrow tip of his long member poke against my taut hole ever-so slightly, leftover cum and preseed leaving slick trails of wetness along my tailfeathers and down. The tapered avian maleness began pressing inside harder and longer before he withdrew it, each time filling my tender ass a little bit more.

It took a little while before Tirian's full length was pressed flush inside me, the hot cock filling up my ass with a feeling of intimate and complete fullness I had never known. My skin and feathers felt like they were on fire, every gentle movement of the maleness in my tailhole making my own cock throb and my body shake. He hadn't even begun his thrusts, and already I was achingly close to release. I tried to distract myself by playing with his feathers, trying to lose myself in the diversity and complexity of his plumage, but it was hopeless. Even the subtle patterning of his coat was beautiful, arousing to me.

"You... should see yourself." Tirian gasped, eyes lidded with pleasure. "Your face is so cute... can't wait to... see you with a beak..."

I just laughed, and closed my eyes in sweet anticipation. Tirian leaned over and planted a small, reassuring lick on my nose before he began. Then, the osprey pulled his tapered member out of my ass until just the very tip was left inside my tailhole, before thrusting the whole thing back in with a wet slap and the sound of rustling feathers. The feeling of fullness in my ass when his entire member was sheathed in me was incredible; electric feelings of pleasure were shooting into my painfully aroused penis, making it spurt preseed all over my growing chestfeathers. I felt my lover's maleness throb inside me as his ministrations continued, his thrusts becoming so savage and forceful that only the slickness and shape of his penis kept it from hurting. Our bodies shook together, half-avian and avian entwined so tightly that it was hard to tell where either of us ended.

I was the first to cum, the feeling of hot hawk-cock pounding my ass while the taste of his seed was still fresh in my mouth too much to bear. I cried out as my newly-transformed avian member spurted hot, sticky seed from its pointed tip, shooting all over Tirian's chestfeathers and soaking my own plumage in seed. My anal passage clamped down on Tirian's cock as I came, the osprey only barely able to hilt himself inside me before he too came. I felt hot hawk seed flood into my insides, accompanied by the wet sound of our spurting seed and the heavy, rich smell of cum filling the room again.

Tirian pulled himself out of me with a heavy groan, rubbing his beak affectionately against my nose as he did so. I felt myself relax as his maleness left my ass, although it was still filled with the pleasant warmth of his seed. My tailfeathers were absolutely soaked in sexual fluids, and I was half-tempted to give him another ride before breakfast. It's funny how quickly all my other cares and concerns had been replaced by the more primal demands my body was making of me.

"Saints, you are so tight..." Tirian mumbled, idly wiping the sweat from my brow. "We're going to have to do this again later..."

"Heh... that sounds like a plan to me..." I replied, still in a daze. My afterglow was interrupted by sharp, shooting pains coming from my upper back. "Ah... Tirian? Would you mind giving me a back rub later? My shoulders are killing me..."

"I can do better than that: I can give you one right...oh, look at what I've found!" Tirian exclaimed, stroking the top of my back. I could feel his hands rubbing against a hard bump jutting out from near where my shoulders were.

"Is... is that what I think it is?" I asked, excitedly.

"Yes, I do believe so. You are growing your wings..." the osprey said to me, proudly. "Now you really need to eat."

As we got up to make breakfast, I wondered how I had ever managed to live alone for so long. I was drunk on the idea that the beautiful outpouring of sexual love we had just shared was something we were could do together as often as we wanted. The freedom of the avian body and their society was what had made them so appealing to me in the first place, but now I realized that what I loved the most about my new life was the bond I shared with Tirian.

**** Chapter VIII ****

Three days later, my changes had almost finished. My body was completely covered in dark brown feathers around my back and wings, and softer white down around my underside speckled with streaks of auburn. When my beak finally grew in, it had the same wickedly-curved shape as Tirian's, but it was banded with colorful yellow instead of his darker, black-blue mouthparts. As he had promised, when my tailfeathers grew out to their full size and length they turned brick-red, although the bottom remained a lighter shade, the same hue of red as uncooked salmon. My eyes were so sharp, I could read the fine text on Tirian's laptop from across the hall with perfect clarity. He knew I could, too; he would write me cute little messages in the margins of his paper. Sometimes even entire conversations took place like this... like the one we were having right now.

[Your wings have almost finished growing :)]

[I can start teaching you how to fly]

[!!!]

He typed, next to a news report on genetically-modified food development.

"Uh... really?" I replied, apprehensively. I had been looking forward to being able to fly for a very long time, having fantasized about it ever since Tirian described it to me. But... well... there is a big difference between idle daydreaming and having to throw yourself upon the tender mercies of physics. "Maybe we should wait a little longer, let me get comfortable with things..."

Tirian raised one black-banded eyebrow.

[What?]

[Why are you afraid? I said I would teach you.]

"Because a week ago I was a human?" I replied.

He gave me a look of mocking exasperation.

[ok]

[but]

[I'm not having sex with you again until you learn how :P]

Appeared on the laptop screen. Tirian gave me a dirty smirk, and then silently took a sip of his coffee.

"What!? That's not fair! I've had wings for less than a day and you expect me to know how to make them work!?" I indignantly replied, shaking my new limbs for effect.

[Trust me, it will be completely natural for you.]

[It took you less than a minute to learn how to walk again, didn't it?]

I looked down at my digitgrade talons, drumming the sharp claws on the carpet one by one. "Yeah, but if I screwed that up I would have fallen all of two centimeters, not two kilometers!"

He paused a second, tapping the side of his laptop with two clawtips as he considered what to type next.

[Your choice.]

[:)]

[BTW, how do fish and chips sound for dinner?]

[I have a hankering for halibut]

Aside from Tirian going on about halibut, that was the exchange that preceded this.

We are outside the homeship. I'm staring at an endless expanse of ocean several thousand meters below us, my talons holding on to the zeppelin's steel grating with a deathgrip. A moderate breeze blows through the air, making my ruddy-brown plumage shake and making it hard to hear Tirian as he continued to teach me. My wings felt so powerful; they easily rivaled the rest of my body in size if not mass... but could they really support my entire weight?

'Terrified' didn't even come close to how I was feeling at the moment. Still, Tirian's guidance was helping.

"...the hardest part is the takeoff. Once you master that, everything else is easy, trust me." Tirian said, holding my wings spread evenly apart. "Luckily, with a jump-off point like this, it shouldn't be a problem. Just keep your wings stiff and glide. Start with gentle, easy turns and then try flapping your wings to gain altitude."

It seemed pretty easy. But then, I looked back down. From this height, even water would feel like concrete if I hit it...

"James? Are you okay?"

"Not really." I admitted.

"Look, this is something that your body is more than capable of doing. Just keep your arms and legs close to your body and let your wings do the work, okay?"

"I'm going to be very angry if I fall to my death." I said, holding onto the metal grating with all the strength my talons could muster, shaking with fear and wondering what the hell I was doing.

"Oh, don't be melodramatic. If anything goes wrong I'll come get you. Now, give it a try!" Tirian said, giving me a friendly pat on my tailfeathers.

I thought of how I trapped I felt when I first arrived on the ship, how absolute a void the thousands of meters of open air felt; I thought of how strange the avian form of my 'master' looked to me. But now I was one myself- or at least very close to it-wasn't I? I took another look at the vast ocean below, spreading my powerful new limbs out so that they caught a little of the breeze. Lift surged up into me, making me feel nearly weightless. I... I could actually do this, couldn't I?

Slowly, I let my talons relax. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and jumped off the edge of the airship.

I fell for two, maybe three seconds before I panicked hard. Cold, pure fear made my heart beat so hard I could almost hear the rapid thudding in my ears despite the rush of wind around me. Grasping on to Tirian's words like a drowning man, I tucked my flailing arms and legs tightly against my chest and then let my wings unfurl. Like magic, I felt them catch on the air. Before I even realized what I was doing, my fall had turned into a steep but controlled descent, and then a gentle, upward climb.

I was flying! I beat my wings, and felt utter elation as I started to gain height. I was laughing like an idiot, completely overwhelmed by the feeling but I was flying! Endless possibilities danced in front of me like a dream that I could shape at will. Gravity was an inconvenience, not a law.

When I was able to stop laughing, I did a gentle turn and started circling the airship. The Pride of the Clouds was travelling at ten kilometers an hour, ponderously making its way into Venia. It looked like a shimmering, stationary island compared with my speed and celerity, but the farther away I flew the more I saw that it was but a speck compared to the vastness of the ocean beneath us.

For the first time, I noticed that the ocean was no empty void. With my own keen eyes, I was able to see the marine life teeming on its surface, see the intricate dance of the waves and faint glimmer of sunlight reflecting through the spray, see the other flying creatures that lazily drifted on the currents of air. Everything was just... I don't even know how to say it. Everything that Tirian had told me before suddenly made sense.

I wanted to keep flying forever, but already my newly-grown wings were growing tired. I'd never used the muscles there before. I gradually approached the bedroom balcony on the homeship I had taken off from, able to see the beaming smile on Tirian's face before I even got close. With a flurry of wingbeats and Tirian helping to catching me, I awkwardly managed to land.

"I did it! I can't believe I did that!" I shouted triumphantly, reflexively shaking my ruffled feathers straight.

"See? I told you it was easy!" Tirian said, pulling me back from the catwalk.

"Oh, by the saints! That was incredible! I actually flew! Why the hell don't you do that more often?" I asked him,

"Because it gets pretty exhausting, unless you're just gliding." He said, laughing and nuzzling my beak with his. "But I love your enthusiasm. There's a lot more to learn, but we can take it nice and slow from here."

"And we can have sex again, right?" I asked devilishly, returning the beak rubbing as we stumbled back inside the homeship.

"Mmhmm..." Tirian replied, as the two of us tumbled back onto our bed. In a flash, we disrobed each other with our claws.

I jumped backward onto the bed, spreading my wings wide and splaying out my talons. My spread tailfeathers traced a neat target right towards my tailhole; I fluttered them slightly, beckoning my lover closer.

"What are you doing?" Tirian laughed, teasing the underside of my sheath with one claw. "You know, you can be a little more... assertive when we're in bed."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean that as nice as those tailfeathers of yours are, sometimes I want you to wrestle me down and fuck me as hard as you can." Tirian said, his eyes blazing with sexual fire.

That made me blink. Tirian was a very complicated person, but every once in a while his raptorial nature really asserted itself. "I don't know... that's not really how I act..."

"Come on; at least give it a try..." Tirian said. His erection was proudly jutting out from his frontside as he advanced on me.

"I don't know..." I started to say.

He pulled me down onto the bed in a sudden takedown, holding me beak-to-beak against the bed. "Come on, James! There's nothing wrong with being nice and sharing and subservient, but is that how you want to live your entire life? You're a hawk now, James; a predator. Start acting like it!"

Was he right? Did I like being submissive all the time, or had I just been forced to act that way for so long that I forgot what I really did like? I wasn't sure, but one thing was true; I could feel new instincts trying to assert themselves inside the back of my mind as the osprey held me against the bed. They told me to grab ahold of him with my talons, hold him down and take his tail for all it was worth...

One of Tirian's powerful hands had grabbed onto my erect cock. He was forcefully squeezing my member I struggled helplessly against him. "I refuse to let you be anything other than my equal! Now, what are..."

As he continued with his philosophizing, I overpowered him with a shove. My arms still retained some their human size and power. Avians had an extremely strong grip and were quite strong, but they were also very light. The surprise on his face quickly turned into a dirty, self-satisfied smirk as we continued to wrestle, beak to beak. I tightly grasped the front of his shins with my talons and I positioned myself, forcing his legs apart as he playfully struggled with me. He tried to flip me onto my back with a powerful flap of his wings, but I quickly compensated by rolling with the motion. We both tumbled off the bed and onto the floor, taking most of the sheets with us as we fell.

I pinned his arms to the side and spread his legs apart with my knees, until there was nothing between me and his tailhole but time. My very bones tingled with sweet anticipation as Tirian struggled against the inevitable, until my manhood found its mark. We both squawked in pleasured agony as I savagely claimed my mate, just as he had claimed me. The softness of our feathers contrasted strangely with the tightness of his tailhole. It was only after I had almost hilted myself inside his powerful, tense depths that I came to my senses. But there was only a glowing look of contentment on my lover's face; a look of wicked glee that showed that he was enjoying himself as much as I was.

"This... better..?" I gasped, slamming his ass with another powerful thrust that made his eyes shudder and his member spurt preseed.

His reply was half-chirp, half-pant. "Fast... learner..."

He licked the side of my beak with his short tongue, and started squeezing his anal walls down on my slick member in time with my thrusting. It only took a few furiously fervent minutes of that treatment before I came, shooting my thick avian seed deep into his ass. I was disappointed I hadn't been able to make him cum, but mere seconds after my climax came to its explosive close he began to mount me on his hard cock. I gasped out in surprise, small spurts of warm cum still dribbling down my maleness as my prostate was hammered by his tapered length. Saints, he knew just where to hit me! By the time he filled my ass with warm cum, he had brought me to a second climax using nothing but his cock and a few teasing brushes against the head of my member with the feathers on his forearm. Immediately afterward I flipped him back on his front and raised his cum-matted tailfeathers high before driving my still-hard member into his backside just the way that he had done to me. I was eager to give him the same treatment, so eager that I pinned his arms to the side so he couldn't stroke himself while I filled him. Eventually, I did just that. I gasped and cried and laughed and buried myself in the soft, seed-matted down of his chest and I made his untouched avianhood burst with creamy-white juices.

I don't know how long we coupled like that, in the throes of violent, almost animalistic passion. I learned more about my new body and sex that night that I ever thought existed through Tirian's teaching and my own experimentation. We took turns wrestling and tumbling and kissing and fucking until the day faded into night and we collapsed in utter exhaustion. We laid there together, chests heaving with vanished breath and floor covered in lost feathers. Then, we took flight together in the refreshing cold of the air, mumbling sweet memories and naughty promises to each other over radio headsets.

We fell asleep that night in each other's wings, after taking a hot bath... and after Tirian paid off my family's debt in full. I felt deeply indebted to the osprey, but it wasn't something as base as a financial matter. I felt indebted to him for loving me.

But then again, he felt the same way about me.

**** Epilogue ****

The week after my transformation was quiet and uneventful, but beautiful.

For night after night, we made hot and passionate love under the starlight. Released from the chains of our past, we were free to be not just who we were, but who we wanted to be. Everyone is indelibly influenced by their genes and their past, where they were born and who they grew up with. Even so, it is the choices we make more than the fortunes we suffer that truly define who we are; this I now know. But who is to say what the future might hold? I don't know what my old friends and family are going to think of my new appearance, or what sort of reaction I might get from the native avians of Venia, but such concerns seem petty and distant. Rivalries and fears, prejudices and hatreds, money and property... it all seems so stupid, so ephemeral to focus on them instead of friends and lovers. Death comes too soon to do otherwise.

I am James Villers, and I am my own person. My life, my lover and even my species are mine by choice, and I wouldn't have it any other way.