Dandelion watched the greenery where his cousin and her handmaid had disappeared for a moment. He turned around, looking through the spots between the tree trunks for his father and servant. The shadows were empty. What else should have I expected? They need not hold my hand any longer. This is the first step towards becoming a man. Dandelion frowned, unease filling him.

His gut clenched at the thought of being well and truly alone. His broken wing throbbed, making Dandelion clench his teeth. The pain radiated for a moment, consuming his back and right arm. Dandelion sunk to his knees, grimacing. He hissed, breathing in and out sharply through his teeth. Would the pain stop if I burnt the pitiful lump of flesh? Then mayhap I could catch Ashara and return for the feast in due time.

Dandelion pushed the pain to the back of his mind. The bath had helped. My strength of will can make up for the rest. I need to stop the bleeding. I need to burn the flesh. He started looking for small twigs and branches. They were easy enough to find; In between the jolts of pain as Dandelion bent down, his arms filled with sticks of varying sizes and branches.

He managed to stagger away from the treeline and drop the pile of branches. Flexing his muscles as he stood, Dandelion felt a dribble of blood run down his back, making the old cloak stick to his back. His nose crinkled in distaste. Dandelion knelt, taking a medium sized branch and a wide one. Silent, save for his hands rubbing the wood between him, Dandelion started building a fire.

The flames crackled. Dandelion swallowed past the growing lump in his throat. Nerves gnawed on his insides. Let the founder’s give me strength. He unpinned his cloak, letting it fall down his back. Carefully, he set the pin close to the fire, watching as the gold stag slowly heated. After a few moments, filled with his short, fast pants, Dandelion withdrew the pin. He hissed as the flame licked his fingertips.

Though he tried to make it fast, the pain burrowed into his back, and around the stump of his right wing. Dandelion gasped, gritting his teeth. The pain overwhelmed him and he fell, his face tickled by the prickling grass. The darkness came to him, like an old acquaintance.

The ground was soft beneath him. Dandelion got up, dusting his pants- I wasn’t wearing pants when I came into the clearing. Dandelion looked around, his brow crinkling in confusion as the castle gardens slowly revealed themselves. Why-A white and brown shape bowled him over. Dandelion’s arms pinwheeled as he fell to the earth.

“Hey!” Dandelion scowled, looking up at the figure, who had stopped a few feet from him. Ashara…

“Sorry, cousin.” She grinned, her eyes sparkling with something Dandelion hadn’t seen in a long time: joy.

“It’s no problem,” Dandelion muttered, smiling back at her and taking her outstretched hand. As she tugged him up, he noticed that she was a few inches taller than he was. Ashara turned around, tugging him along.

Her wings are missing…

Dandelion came to a stop, letting his and Ashara’s arm make up the distance. She stopped walking, looking back at him with a frown, her brows creasing. “What is it, fluff butt? Are you going to admonish me for running? Are you going to run and tell the queen?” Her voice dropped, frown deepening.

Dandelion frowned. This isn’t my Ashara… She wouldn’t quiver in fear of my mother like this. Why is she acting so strangely. Once more Dandelion looked at his cousin. Her dirt soiled slippers and the muddy hem of her white dress, a distinct lack of bright azure monarch butterfly wings…

Ashara hasn’t looked like this since before her moon’s blood. Since before she got her wings…

Dandelion sighed. “No, Shar. Why would I do a silly thing like that when we’re having such fun?” He grinned, racing past her and jumping over a bush of Azalia’s. Ashara’s shrieks sounded behind him as he ran, making his grin split wider. As his arms and legs pumped wildly, he realised that he lacked wings as well. He let out a wild whoop, feeling his heart soar with happiness. How long has it been since I was allowed to be so happy? Since I was not weighted down by responsibility?

When Dandelion landed, the world around him changed. He was on his knees, stone biting into his bare flesh. Dandelion looked around, seeing his arms suspended above his head to either side of him, tied by rope that attatched to carved stone pillars. His skin was slick with sweat and his teeth were clenched.

Candles flickered around the circle, their thick white pillars rising a foot, wax dripping from their sides like pale blood. The stone walls surrounding him were scrubbed clean, the smell of vinegar and lemon making his nose burn.

I remember this place.

Queen Tatiana Aurealius came forward from somewhere unseen. The flames whipped sideways as the queen walked, her white skirt trailing behind her, sparkling like broken glass. Her green eyes were hard as she stared at him. Even in my dreams she’s cold.

Dandelion met her eyes, a scowl on his face. The queen frowned at him, opening the black pouch hanging from her hip. The knife was as long as his forearm and tipped with a thin point. His muscles clenched involuntarily. He breathed deep and slow, in a vain attempt to slow his galloping heart.

Dandelion kept his head up, even as his mother walked around him, in between the candles. The knife slowly scraped along his spine. His jaw clenched and his eyes burned with unshed tears. Hurry and finish mother, please. Small lumps jutted out from his spine, just beneath his shoulder blades.

I remember how I hid them for nearly three days before she found out. She was so cross with me.

It was one of the rare time the queen had shown him genuine affection, or concern. The tenderness and tears in his mother’s eyes were burned into his mind like a scar. The queen ran her blade up his spine, then back down, taunting him. Dandelion heaved, trying to hold in the tears. Naked fear, with a hint of anticipation, hummed in his veins. He tried to loosen his coild muscles.

The queen didn’t give any warning, and dove the sharp point into the flesh beneath his left shoulder, making a thin line. A punishment then. He wanted to beg her to give his wings more room to come out, but the sharp pain as she sliced under his other shoulder blade made the plea die on his lips and his mouth gape open in a soundless scream.

This is where I was given my wings, and the responsibilities that came with them.

A cool gust of air brushed past him as the queen turned away from him. The blade cut the ropes keeping his arms up. They fell at his sides like felled trees. He couldn’t move them, nor did he try. Dandelion’s body swayed, and he fall to one side, crashing into one of the stone pillars.

“You must stay here until the bleeding stops. Let the old magic do it’s work.” The door closed after a moment, letting him know he was alone.