Flightless- Chapter One

After that, soon enough, the twins grew up, living in the cottage. Grandpa Melvyn raised them steadily and freely, letting them learn from their own mistakes.

They had soon forgotten about their parents, but were also bothered by the way Melvyn acted when they tried to bring it up. He ignored them, and never said a word about it. The only thing about asking was that you got a chore, and none of the triplets were fond of that.

And they really were convinced Grandpa Melvyn was *really* their grandpa, and whenever they whispered, “I love you lots,” or, “But of course your family, grandpa!” he would tense instead of smile lovingly at them, guilt that he hadn’t told them the truth yet always tearing at his heart.

Their guardian was grumpy lots, but they knew he was quite fond of them, even though the only hint he ever gave them was when he had said, “I’m quite glad to have you three. I’ve always had a bit of trouble taking care of myself before, and I’ve found you to be more helpful than I’d have ever asked for myself.”

The three had many chores, cooking, hunting, building, cutting, collecting wood, gathering water, feeding the animals, and cleaning the house.

But during their free time they followed the path through the Leftforest, that only went one way, but they never went far, afraid they would have to stay out at night, with the wolves and all the nasty dark creatures, or sometimes they hunted for new useful materials by the lake, or went swimming. Sometimes they sat in the Hayloft at the top floor of the cottage and pet the old, fat cream-furred and white tabby tom who had dark amber eyes and thick, woolly fur. He wasn’t very useful anymore, besides that he caught mice, but less and less every month.

Grandpa Melvyn only kept him instead of selling him to the village behind the mountains because the children loved him so. His name was Old Tom, and he was older than the twins, who were eleven each.

But each Saturday, Grandpa Melvyn would ride his donkey and his wagon over the mountains and to the village called, “Mirstone,” where he brought small, useful things and very rarely, delicacies like jam doughnuts and paper.

They were poor, but usually made all their things, so they didn’t need to ride out, really. In the winter it was more dangerous, and most of the food like meat and fruits are scarce, and with the small amount of money they still have, they stock up the pile for winter, or they starve in the snow.

But in the summer it was hot and clear, with lovely rolling meadows and sunlit forests, flowers of many colours bobbing in warm breezes, and in spring beautiful songbirds streaked the sky, flowers brighter, humidity most, the cherry blossom trees ringing the Leftforest, which was made mostly of oak trees, bloomed pink every Tuesday morning, then closed Wednesday in the afternoon.

In Autumn the world seemed on fire, with colours as hot as the sun. They harvested wheat, barley and hay in this season, and they made the best pumpkin dishes from their pumpkin plants near the Rightforest Platform.

A few autumns ago, Old Tom came home carrying four kittens, that were not his. They didn’t understand why this made Grandpa Melvyn so confused, but they left him to ponder alone as they named the kittens: Pad for the dark brown tabby tom with the wide gray eyes, Fidas for the handsome thick-furred brown tabby tom with the white muzzle, Myst for the green and blue odd-eyed female, with a thin, white coat, and Minnie for the dark gray female with the bright green eyes and the pure white chest and the strange, one white paw.

Minnie had run off by herself one winter, frightened by the bear that had appeared at their door when they were nine.

She was forgotten quickly enough, however.

And every night the triplets went out stargazing on nice days in the summer, pointing out shooting stars and chasing lights through the Leftforest, strange red lights that always followed them; bobbing slowly and whispering the strangest things.

Grandpa never saw them, but the triplets always pointed them out and tried to catch a glimpse of them, curious to see what they were, and wondering why they only watched them. They all shared memories of the day their mother left them on the doorstep of Grandpa Melvyn, but they never figured it out. All they remembered was the stinging cold, wolves howling in a bright, white mist, and warm hands wrapping carefully around them and taking them into the warmth.

They remembered blistering fire licking their surroundings, screaming and wails and everything terrible. They all thought it was a dream, just a normal nightmare they happened to have whenever they were afraid, so they never mentioned it to each other, so never found out they all happened to share the same dream.

The three triplets were now eleven, as we had mentioned earlier; and were the strangest of all; looking so different it was hard to tell they were siblings, with personalities as different as sun and moon, fire and water, light and dark.

The eldest sibling was Dannie, born quite a distance of time away from his younger sisters; about five hours away.

Brynn was the middle triplet, with nature spiky and everywhere. Some days she was as calm and smooth as the lake that rimmed their cottage, which Grandpa Melvyn named, “Wolf Lake,” before he settled in and built his house, when he was a very young man. She loved birds, and always cared for the injured ones that happened to fly into the window or the young ones that were abandoned in their nests.

She was brilliant at it, and not a single bird had not made it. She loved nature, and being the odd one out. But she worried a lot, and kept many sides of her personality hidden from people she didn’t want to see, but kept it open for others. She was funny, and teasing, and was amazing at being sarcastic, and talked a *lot.*

And she hated studying, but was very good at it, and she loved the books that Grandpa borrowed from the Mirstone librarian, and she was given one delicacy for her birthday: Every birthday she would ask for a notebook and a pen, and she wrote her heart out on those pages. She could never hunt, she would never in her life hunt, she let Dannie, Indigo and Grandpa Melvyn do everything. She would never hurt an animal, and after she vowed not to, Grandpa gave up getting her to try. But she ate the animals, sometimes meat was all they had, and she could never go without food. Brynn had a *huge* appetite, the biggest of all of them.

Her hair was neither too light nor too dark, her eyes as warm and brown as earth, with yellowish skin and nails that were small, bumpy and jagged at the tips from biting them. She normally wore her hair in a plait, with a long, soft and curly fringe coming down the left side of her face.

Dannie was calm and very nervous sometimes, and kept many, many secrets from certain people. He was kind, soft, and helped Grandpa very much, and most of all, he was fast, and very good at games, and could be quite reassuring at the same time, but was also quiet, and would rather play catch than have a conversation.

Dannie was awful at math and all, and embarrassed himself a lot, but his heart was pure and clear.

He had neat, flat pale blonde-brown hair and dark blue eyes, rosy cheeks and a rather shy nature, but he didn’t mind hunting, and he was good at aiming, and he only did it to help Grandpa out, since he was the only one who could.

Indigo was the youngest, with rare reddish-brown hair in a thick ponytail and brown eyes that were blank if you looked closely, as if she didn’t have pupils.

She was serious, but loved werewolves and wolves, and had a shockingly short temper and talked millions too much. She wasn’t exactly a fan of sport, but was good at it, and had a huge imagination that didn’t seem to be made for writing, but she was made playing imagining games, but she never got good at hunting, but didn’t enjoy it anyway, but still would have, if she could.

She got bossy, too, but all her siblings loved her, and she was the bravest of them all, and shared Brynn’s love for nature, but did not share her long and everlasting knowledge for birds, which Brynn ended up lecturing them about, sometimes going on for hours if nobody stopped her in time.

Indigo always lectured a *lot* when she was mad, mostly about how her triplets should behave next time, and got angry if you tried to stop her, so it was best not to, but she always forgave, even if you did nothing.

But one Wednesday morning at the beginning of autumn, the three were hunting together in the dangerous Rightforest, breathing in the newly born, crisp, autumn air. They gripped their conch shells tight in their hands just in case they needed to call Grandpa, the special shells they had all gotten for their birthdays, and if you blew into them, they made loud noises like a horn, and they used it to call if they were in trouble.

Dannie didn’t know what he wanted for his birthday, so Grandpa brought this present originally for him, but he handed out the three. Grandpa Melvyn had said they came from the ‘Pirate Islands’, a sea where all the pirates and mermaids lived.

The three walked through the forest silently and stealthily, eyes swerving around as if they were looking for something.

‘There it is,’ Dannie breathed, brushing a large fern away  gingerly to reveal a pure white pegasus with a pale gray mane that flowed in the wind, and glittered like melting snowflakes.

It lifted its head warily, searching their faces curiously, then snorted and hooved the ground impatiently.

‘It’s such a big, brave beauty,’ Brynn agreed wistfully. ‘Come here, Braxi, here boy.’

The pegasus stayed put, eyeing them mistrustfully, lowering Its muzzle so that his and Brynn’s eyes met. Intelligent eyes, eyes that sparkled in the sunlight as yellow as sunflowers and seething with waters of wisdom.

*We’re here to help you,* Brynn transmitted, sending the pegasus a picture of him grazing, safe in a beautiful meadow and made him feel warmth inside the stables as outside the snow fell, and then frolicking in layers of crisp, crunching autumn leaves. Then in spring; running free, kicking up brightly coloured flowers of many kinds.

The pegasus stared at Brynn, then reared, suddenly terrified. ‘Stop, Brynn!’ Indigo snapped. ‘Let me do it. We’re sending it all too many messages at the same time. It's overwhelming the poor thing!’

Brynn looked at her feet, and Dannie and her watched Indigo scrunch up her face in severe concentration, where Brynn slipped Braxi the message as easily as taking a leap. Indigo was a slow learner, and she was still mastering Pegutongue, the language pegasus spoke. It could only be done with pegasus, and anyone could do it if they had the right teacher. But the special thing about the triplets was that they learnt it themselves.

There was an old owl that had lived in the Biggest Tree in the Leftforest, and had spoken fluently in Owlspeak and Pegatongue, and they copied it easily, off from Dannie, who somehow seemed to be born with Owlspeak.

The pegasus was still staring, unmoving, at Indigo, not quite trusting yet at all. Indigo started looking frustrated, and Brynn opened her mouth to remind her to keep calm, but Indigo waved Brynn away with her hand, looking annoyed, so Brynn reached into the pegasus’s mind to find what Indigo was telling it.

*You there! Why aren’t you coming already? We’ve got food, you big, lazy log,* Indigo was whisper-thinking to it, without sending it any picture. Brynn rolled her eyes, and forced Indigo’s words from Braxi’s mind, adding her own.

*Come on, little beauty. It's all right. Safe. Go to Indigo,* she transmitted, sending a ever brighter and clearer version of the pictures she had sent before, and the pegasus sent her faded whispers of ease to her, and began to trot slowly towards Indigo, who stared around with pride, holding out her hand, and the pegasus finched, so Brynn blocked Indigo’s bossy thoughts out of his head with her louder, less fuzzy ones.

*It's okay. She is nice. Nice human,* She thought to Braxi, and she gently lowered her muzzle gratefully, then turned to Indigo, and she held out her hand and petted the pegasus softly, while Braxi loosened his muscles.

‘There you go,’ Dannie said proudly, putting a hand on his little sister’s shoulder. ‘First time without Brynn helping out!’

Brynn shuffled her feet shyly, staring down at the ground, and looked up with a smug expression. ‘Well, you know… be a little softer and kinder to it next time,’ She advised, and Indigo shot her an outraged expression, lifting her hand from Braxi’s muzzle while being bent down to pick a dandelion and devour it lazily.

‘You were Mindwatching!’ Indigo growled. ‘Stop spying on me! I can do it all right by myself, see?’ Brynn forced back the urge to snort, and then suddenly glanced up at the sky, squinting in the sun that peeked through a gap in the leaves, and her stomach rumbled loudly, Braxi lifting her head curiously and turning it to look at Brynn.

‘Yeah, I agree with your stomach, Brynn,’ Indigo grumbled. ‘Can we seriously just do at least one day without missing lunch?’

‘You can have lunch. Were *trying* to rescue an endangered pegasus species,’ Brynn snapped, rolling her eyes, and Indigo shut her mouth, using her daggered stare to glare at Brynn, who ignored it boredly. Braxi snorted boldly as if agreeing.

‘We’ve got a female back at home, and Sylva’s a bit lonely,’ Dannie pointed out. ‘If we could pare them up and introduce them to the Leftforest, the safe side, I’m sure they’ll be all right.’

Brynn nodded, and flashed a few images to the pegasus, but only sharp confusion and unsureness hit her.

‘She’s nervous,’ Brynn whispered, touching her muzzle, and led the pegasus forward a few steps, before it stopped and stuck to the floor with protest.

*It's okay,* She transmitted, and the pegasus nodded Its head softly, as if agreeing, then walked on again, but this time Brynn stopped it, looking back at the others. ‘Coming or not?’

Dannie and Indigo ran after her, and they headed through the fresh, crisp air and crackling crimson and brown leaf litter, dappled sunlight streaking their skin, fluttering down from the canopy and hitting the ground below. Thrush songs echoed through the forest, the faint, distant roaring of a Cave Dragon, and the screech of a griffon flying over the forest, screeching loudly and letting Its shadow climb over the treetops. Braxi had buckled at the screech, being led to an unknown part of the territory, but stilled when Brynn calmed him again. The sky was cloudy and a misty white, but it was warm and now and then the sun would emerge from the moist fluff, bathing the world again.

There was a cool, light breeze flowing through the trees and making them whisper quietly, mythically, magically.

And by the time they had found the path that ran through the Rightforest, almost everyone was grumbling of hunger. Mostly Braxi and Indigo, at least.

‘I haven’t had *breakfast,*’ She moaned over and over, letting out irritated grumbles if someone answered or didn’t.

‘You *did*!’ Brynn reminded her. ‘You ate my second helping of oats!’

And so they went on, Braxi beginning to get impatient, hungry and nervous, his head drooping and his tail flicking from side to side anxiously. Brynn had trouble calming her now, her mind was beginning to lose concentration from all the hunger.

And Indigo was beginning to grow on their nerves and beginning to drive Brynn up the wall.

She wasn’t an expert yet, and her connection wasn’t that good. Yet.

She still needed to master learning how to get the pegasus to talk back, and she needed to learn to talk to the pegasus with words, the hardest stage.

The Connection, which you could have with any animal. A bubble, where you can talk in private without a single other being knowing. But with words. You could do anything for only half an hour at a full moon, switch minds, jump into memories, read each other’s futures.

It was one of Grandpa Melvyn’s little child stories, and Brynn always tried to make a “Connection” on Old Tom, but she gave up when she turned seven and Dannie told her Old Tom was probably too grumpy to even want to make the “Connection.”

But she was sure, someday, she would make it.

The triplets suddenly rounded a bend that was hidden by an oversized tree, the Hightree, they called it, a part of the fence that separated Wolf Lake and the dangerous Rightforest, and of which the Platform Peninsula was built right next to, the cottage sitting on top of it slightly overgrown with ivy and vines, but still some stones and wood were shown through it.

Braxi let out a nervous whinny and prepared to rear as Brynn tugged it with the rope slung around Its neck and he refused to move forward.

‘Calm, boy, *calm*,’ Brynn reassured him, holding out her hands non-threateningly. *Home. This is just your new home, boy. This is where you’ll come every day to get yourself some treats if you’re hungry.*

The pegasus tipped his head, and Brynn smirked softly as it calmed down, Indigo sulking extra grumpily at the back.

‘Beginners' luck,’ Indigo huffed moodily, crossing her arms, and glared at Dannie as he opened his mouth to comfort her, nearing closer towards the wooden gate, footsteps crinkling the rough, fallen leaves.

‘No way,’ Brynn pointed out proudly. ‘I’m not *beginning*.’

‘I know. You’re showing off,’ She shot back, and Brynn rolled her eyes affectionately but said nothing, looking for a way to win today’s fight. ‘All right. Tomorrow I’m going to annoy a dragon and die.’

‘You’re not.’

‘Am too. Watch, I’ll do it now, you take Braxi’s rope and I’ll just walk up that mountain there…’ Brynn began, shoving the reigns into her hands, trudging swiftly up a slope, almost past the fence.

‘Don’t! Please don’t die!’ Indigo screeched, rushing over and pushing the rope back into Brynn’s hands while Dannie hid his laughter in the background. Indigo took in a breath to go on protesting, outraged, but stopped with her jaws half open as she caught Brynn’s amused look.

‘Caught you, Gullible Gulliver. It was a test,’ Brynn teased. ‘We know that you’ll do anything for us.’

‘Now I wish right now you were serious about killing yourself,’ Indigo moaned, holding out a hand to pick the locks of the gate with an old, bent, greyish twig, standing on tiptoe to unlatch it skillfully, before it swung open with a satisfying *click*.

‘All right, you two, tone it down,’ Dannie ordered, helping Brynn to fit Braxi into the gate, who now and then let out terrified neighs and reared, but his mind was too fuzzy with emotion for Brynn to reach it, so she just had to speak to it with careful words, with her touch as soft as she could make it.

‘I was *about* to tone it down until you told us to, “tone it down”,’ Indigo sighed, on the other side of the gate, and Dannie gave her a “is that so?” look before slipping into the gate, Braxi and Brynn waiting on the other side, out of breath from trying to calm each other.

Indigo had rolled her eyes a few times, Braxi had struggled against the ropes a little bit, and Dannie’s stomach had grumbled and he kept getting redder and redder with embarrassment, mumbling about “lunch.”

But when they reached the cottage, opened the door, peeked in and called, tying Braxi to a wooden pole.....

Grandpa Melvyn was not there.