Flightless- Chapter Three

Brynn pulled herself through a thornbush, Indigo trailing after her, unusually quiet. They had told Grandpa Melvyn, who had come back from visiting the grave, that they were going to do more exploring. In that way Melvyn didn’t know where they were, so he couldn’t come to find them. And it was the truth, too. They were exploring. Exploring the grave.

Her skin burnt as the thorns sunk in, and Indigo let out a grumble, muttering to herself about things like, “pointless,” and, “this bush needs to be taught a lesson.”

‘Ugh,’ Brynn moaned, picking out a thorn from her elbow. ‘That bush is growing too fast. And by the way, Indigo, I didn’t think you’d want to pick entering through the thornbush when there's a clear space right there.’

Brynn pointed to a small gap between the Thornbush clearing a few steps away, and Indigo stared at it, looking defeated.

‘So what? It's too far away,’ Indigo lied, heading towards the large, towering tree that stood, bold and proud, in the middle, a beautiful and old oak tree, with a treehouse sitting peacefully on top, a flapping old curtain used as a door, and a long ladder that twirled around the trunk and disappeared among the leaves, a balcony, a trapdoor that led to the wooden fence-ringed roof, birds singing…

A caladrius swooping down from above, one of those pure white peacock-birds that flew for years, and could heal by just looking at someone. But only the older, wiser ones did so. The ones who were bred in the forest instead of the mountains were completely powerless and common, while the ones in the snow were rare and powerful, and only legend states that they’d been seen.

The Treehouse was also where Dannie sat and read his books, and there he was, with arms draped onto the balcony, reading a book titled, ‘*Gripsology,’* Grypsology being the study of griffins, according to the book of studies Melvyn had brought in on Brynn’s last birthday, but Dannie was the only one that read it. Brynn found informationative books boring, and the ones of adventures and heroes were the only ones she read.

There was Pegology, the study of pegasi, dracology, the study of dragons…

‘There, I found him,’ Brynn whispered, and Indigo wrinkled her nose, looking like her usual irritated self again, mumbling slowly, ‘*I’m not blind*,’ and kicked up some overgrown grass, Brynn expertly ignoring her.

Dannie’s concentration suddenly bounced right off the page he was on and on top of them, so his head turned and he gave a weak smile and waved shyly. He took his book, then disappeared through the balcony door, appearing by the ladder and stepping down to greet them, the book suddenly invisible in his hands, which it wasn’t quite there.

‘Braxi’s awful,’ Dannie sighed. ‘It seemed like it took years to get him in here. But I’m sure he’ll be fine, and Sylva really likes him. Scientifically, I’d suggest to perhaps-’

‘I’d suggest we visit that weird secret grave thingy,’ Indigo snapped, swiftly changing the subject before Dannie began another endless lecture. His eyes widened, unbelieving, but then softened again.

‘Ha, ha, very funny,’ Dannie yawned, eyeing the thorny prickles stuck to them. ‘You guys went through the thornbush. Why’d you do that?’

‘Apparently Indigo’s too lazy to do that. *Also* she’s *not* kidding, by the way. We are actually going. We need to find out the secrets Grandpa’s been keeping from us, the secrets so important that he doesn’t let us out in winter. And he said he doesn’t want to let us out to play out there because of the “secrets” remember?’ Brynn explained, but Dannie still didn’t look convinced, and he raised his eyebrow suspiciously, rolling his eyes.

‘Yeah, right. You’d have better luck convincing me if you told me a giant grass blade began stomping around and ate a realm. Wait, actually, that might be possible because Greater Phantoms get up to 10,000 metres tall…’ Dannie carried off, clearly not seeing Brynn’s horrified look and Indigo’s impatient glare.

‘Stop being scientifically terrifying,’ Indigo snapped. ‘If you carry on like that and I get nightmares, I’ll put slugs under your pillow while you sleep.’

Dannie stopped immediately, looking sulky. ‘Fine. But I don’t understand,’ He told them. ‘Why did you come all the way here to pull a prank on me?’

‘Just come on,’ Indigo snapped. ‘Okay, then, but we are totally not going to the grave. Come with me.’

Dannie glanced at her suspiciously, and Brynn instantly recognized Indigo’s sarcasm, as she reached out to drag Dannie by the arm but he pulled back and followed her towards the thornbush-free clearing. Brynn was trailing after them as they headed towards the fairy graveyard in silence, listening to thrush song and pointing out the toadstools with doors.

But Indigo stayed quiet and hostile, refusing to say anything, staring into space as if she was deep in thought. Brynn had never seen her look so far away, she had never seen her sister act so much like Brynn. But there was tension, suspicion and confusion rolling off Dannie like a tsunami, nervousness hitting Brynn’s heart with every step, but it was nothing compared to Indigo. A million emotions, all her pain, her guilt, met to only this. Everything came to this day- when *all* of them were ready to see the truth.

Steps wobbling and unsure. Fake joy. Pointing out things and counting them to cover up their fright.

Before they came. The place, hidden by layers of thick bushes that they crawled under, expecting not to see the grave yet. They were blind, guided only by the clue that Grandpa never let them go here, but standing in front of the bush, he probably didn’t let them go in because the twigs and sharp leaves could scratch you if you crawled under.

But they did, hope not lost.

It was then that they went in, backsides hurting from the effort of not being able to stand up, using their hands for extra balance. In a line. Brynn in front, Indigo in the middle, Dannie at the back, crawling through an open tunnel whispering to each other as they took shaky steps, while Dannie kept quiet, face awestruck by the fact that they were actually going to visit the grave. The grave of what *might* be they’re parents, Garnette and Pierce Doctor.

‘I’m not sure this is right,’ Dannie was suddenly mumbling, his voice shaking. ‘I thought you guys were joking. I mean, you always do stuff like that, and then I believe it, then Indigo’s like, “HA! Got you again, gullible!” I really don't want to do this. Also, if the grave is on the other side… how does Grandpa Melvyn fit through here every day? He can’t have something magical without us knowing. And I understand he doesn’t want us to see the grave, because It's personal. And I only think he’s keeping it from us because it hurts. And he doesn’t want to show us how weak he can be. I don’t blame him, he seems to look at the fact that we rely on him and take examples of him, and he doesn’t want to show us what he really feels. But this is wrong. *I really don’t want to do this!*’

Brynn shot him a sympathetic look, but Indigo stopped her, turning back to glare at Dannie. ‘Then don’t. Your choice,’ She growled, which kept Dannie silent a bit, staring at the bushes and leaves, until the tunnel ended. The thorny, bushy tunnel with curled trunks that didn’t overgrow it.

A light. At the end. A light despite the darkness of the bush-roof, that blocked out all the sunlight. *Light.* They didn’t have to guide each other any more. But something was bigger than that: The answer was right before them. They didn’t look, they were too afraid.

Light streamed onto the back of their necks as they emerged, the strange stillness and dark exploded into birdsong and colour. The grass on their bare feet, soft and smoother than the rough, thin, gravel road.

Open space.

Finally.

They had done many dangerous things before, rode an untamed dragon, played tricks on a evil phantom that decided stealing their apples was a good idea, and they even fought a mngwa, a giant oversized silver tabby cat that had raided their closet and lived in there, attempting to claw everyone who opened it.

But they’d never been scared, the excitement jogged them too much. They loved the adventures. But now, visiting a grave, they finally felt… different. Nervous, unsure, terrified. Nobody knew who was going to see the grave first. Nobody wanted to see first.

Only Indigo, she was determined to find the truth. She didn’t want to stand out among her triplets, so she only raised her eyes, but bowed her head.

Until, hesitantly, Brynn looked up, but then gasped at the beauty, while Dannie and Indigo looked up, too. Dannie echoed her gasp, but Indigo’s mouth seemed to be glued, top to the bottom.

It was really a fairy graveyard, with cute little headstones with weird ruins on them, little forget-me-nots laid in front of them, sometimes little pink petals or watermeal and baby’s breath, sometimes little chains of Black Medik flowers draped over the stones, tiny Alfalfa put in rings around them, and there was a few glowing, floating dots that carried small flowers, fairies, with long, pointed ears and dresses that flowed of the finest silk, and faces so delicate and full of beauty that even at a touch they crumbled, only being immortal to the soft things, like flower petals. Their wings glowed in the sunlight, transparent and flicking dust as they flew.

Their cheeks were as pink as bubblegum, eyes bright, strangely vivid and sparkling, skin pale and soft. They didn’t seem to care that a bunch of humans came into their place.

They were so *peaceful.*

Dannie sneezed as one passed his nose, illuminating a light blue light on his face, while another flew past Brynn, glowing a bright yellow and talking to his companion, a fairy girl, probably his daughter, sparkling a pale pink.

But besides the fairy graves and the ring of bushes, in the middle of the fairy grave, stood a regular sized tombstone with a bouquet of dahlia and snapdragons and pure white roses, fresh and fragrant. With curiosity, the three noticed a few fairies dropping down blessings as well.

But what was on the tombstone mattered most, on the gold plate of the four names carved into it.

They stepped forward, not saying a word, careful not to step on the beautifully made fairy graves, and waving to fairies as they did, seeming friendly enough, not having to see a bad human being in their life, living in such a place cut off from all the bad people in villages.

Then they approached the grave, finding the plate carved of real gold, but with four names written in bold onto it.

“Here lies Ruth Joyner, who was a wife, and the mother of one child and the grandmother of another. Here lies her son, Prince, and the wife of Prince, Abegail. Here lies the daughter of Prince and Abegail, Rowanne Joyner, a sister, a daughter, and a hero. May they rest in peace, and watch over the ones they love most.”

They all held their breath as they read the inscription in fancy letters at the bottom: “To the chosen ones; may the light be your guide, and your hearts also. Leave, you have found the truth. Fulfill the prophecy, save the world. We are waiting for you to make a change. You will find us in the stars, and we will visit you as you sleep. Don’t be afraid to find them.”

Then below that, in the smallest handwriting any could muster:

“After birds drop from the sky, a broken heart shall bring forth the time of curses and history will be rewritten. The broken hearted will haunt you while you walk. Don’t let them in. Don’t let them see you. If you are seen, you will fall. Find the real truth, the path of destiny. Ride destiny like the wind. Feel it. Complete it, but beware, darkness always blocks one hero’s path, only if you find them first.”

And then:

“Don’t fret, these words are invisible to the unnecessary readers.”

*To the chosen ones. Guide by light. Save the world. Don’t be afraid to find them.*

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

The triplets just stared, mouth open wide, eyes wider than the moons. Eyes so wide they felt like they were going to pop. The silence stretched, minds whirling, so many things taken out of one tombstone.

Too many clues they’re parents were not what they thought they were. The people here, buried beneath their feet, were not they’re parents. They were Grandpa Melvyn’s family.

But not theirs.

But somehow they knew… they knew the triplets would be looking at their grave someday. They knew this was what they had to do. And somehow they did it. They started a prophecy, and it was coming true.

And then they were part of a prophecy, somehow they were supposed to go somewhere, by the looks of one of the paragraphs: “Let the light be your *guide*.” To where? And then something about a *“path?”* Then where were they going?

‘Are you sure they wrote that to the right people? Did they, um… think we were them but we’re not? I really wish I knew, Indigo,’ He sighed, glancing expectantly at her. Usually Indigo cheered up her siblings when they were like this, but all she ended up saying was: ‘Well I’m not a genie, and I don’t grant wishes.’

Brynn reached out a hand to hold Dannie’s arm, breathing in his scent, so different from theirs. He smelled a lot like jasmine and wisteria, and sometimes, with his personality and dreams and looks, it was hard to believe he was even related to Indigo, the fierce, bossy Morphspeak who has fear in her heart, and the thoughtful, joking Brynn who had rarely lied. She was the most trustworthy, and perhaps Indigo second-trustworthy.

Though she wasn’t always truthful.

After minutes of silence by the grave, Indigo’s eyes staring and thoughtful. She felt… powerful, loved. She’d always wanted to feel this way, useful, happy, like she was immortal. She *was,* with Morphspeak *and* she was part of the prophecy.

And she really felt as if she was a genie, having granted her own lifelong wish.

It was the beginning.

*POWER.*

‘Let’s go,’ Dannie sighed. ‘Before Grandpa comes back, he never brings this little flowers with him, he always comes back three times or so.’

Brynn nodded, shaking a bit, but agreeing. Indigo said nothing, but pushed to the front of the group to take the lead in the tunnel.

And for extra measure, for more power, she was going to be the leader. *Listen to her…* or she was going to really put snails in Brynn’s blankets. Starting with that. But Indigo knew she would never, ever, kill her sister.

She loved her.

Or was power better?

No, power was unnecessary.

Right?