Wings of Salt- Chapter 1

Chapter One

The cries of seagulls were carried along a salty sea-brine breeze, from the cresting waves below, to the jutting grey rock where Zendaya Ruby crouched. She gritted her teeth against the sting of sea water biting into the cuts and rope-burns peppered along her hands, as she hauled up the last fishing net. A score of crabs writhed against the ropes, claws near-shredding the sun-worn threads.

The sea spread far out into the horizon, glittering blue and green beneath distant bobbing fishing boats. Zendaya had built up enough muscle and balance over her seventeen years, becoming accustomed to life on the roiling seas, to remain steady among the constant tilting of them. But her Uncle preferred dropping crab nets closer to shore.

Uncle Finche knelt beside her, his calloused hands plunking their catch into an old metal bucket. He was observant enough to notice the strain in Zendaya’s neck that morning – the muscles tight from lack of sleep. And when her silence had told him enough about what plagued her mind, he didn’t press her for answers. Instead allowing them to work in comfortable silence.

The absence of their banter however, left room for Zendaya to dwell on plaguing thoughts of her upcoming travels to Oslon. She would take a carriage at dawn. It’d cost most of her coin, but at least she’d make it into the golden city by noon instead of midnight. She expected the cobblestone streets and murky alleys to be crowded with vendors and towns-folk. Either selling wares or rushing towards the Palace gates to get the best views of the event.

Everyone wanted to see the Unfolding.

A shiver of nerves laced up Zendaya’s back. She grappled for the rope ends off the rock‘s ledge, her fingers trembling slightly.

She wouldn’t be seeing the Unfolding tomorrow.

No, Mayvera’s people would be watching her Unfolding. And other faeries’ of course.

The setting-sky, bruised with vibrant orange and purples, surely gave way to a star-kissed night as they continued the last dredges of work for the day. Finche snatched up the wound rope from Zendaya’s hands and settled his gaze upon her with a soft smile.

He knew. He always knew what plagued her mind. A special blood-bond, he’d always claimed with a knowing smirk.

“The Unfolding will only reveal what has been hiding within you all along, Zennie. You have nothing to worry about.” But she did worry. Not about what she’d unfold, because she really didn’t mind what path her wings would set her on.

To Zendaya, becoming an official fisher-woman was optimal choice. But if the gods gave her the translucent-green wings of the farmers, or the grey-feathered muscle of Oslon’s great warriors, she’d still be happy, content to play her role in the world.

Zendaya only feared one thing about her Unfolding: Not unravelling wings at all.

A comforting breeze brushed her shoulders, filled her nose with sea salt. She slumped against the phantom touch.

Rare. So rare it was for a faerie to not Unfold any wings. But it wasn’t impossible, she’d seen it with her own eyes, could still vividly remember the event from two years ago. The sheer horror of it plastered across the golden-haired faerie’s face. Her cries of anguish that followed when her back was revealed and no limbs grew from it.

Zendaya had left Oslon in a stupor, had only become alert enough to overhear the rumours that trickled through the city’s outer streets. The golden-haired faerie had been offered only two choices; Serve the King of Oslon and the royals among the human staff. Like a damn slave. Or set sail before dawn, leave her home continent, and brave the seas to the humans in the south…if they would even accept her.

It was no secret that the humans despised their kind – Faerie. Not due to the cunning nature, the swiftness of their feet, or the keen eyesight that had been bred into them since the beginning of time. Humans might have once accepted those traits, were it not for the wings and gifts that came along with age.

The magic faeries were eventually gifted was fickle at best, harnessing the ability to warp and nurture the elements. The gardeners in particular, were most prized in the whole continent of Mayvera, for their steady propel of crop growth.

“I’m aware.” She ground out. Dusting the sand from between her fingers, Zendaya glanced over her shoulder at Finche. “How’d you get sea-wings when you’re so smutty?”

“It’s not about which impurities you have, Zennie. Whether you’re smutty, illiterate or clumsy.” He cocked a brow. Zendaya rolled her eyes. He certainly enjoyed spreading wise words. Despite her distaste they helped…sometimes. “Life is about how you react to them. If you show the world you are embarrassed and despise your flaws, the people around you will also. Don’t allow them to disrupt your life. After all, they’re not so big. You’ll still live.”

The stars twinkled off the lapping sea waves, rippling as if in agreement.

“I’ll live.” Zendaya echoed, the words dry on her tongue. But she forced a smirk to her face. She supposed she’d still live if she wasn’t gifted wings tomorrow.

But the thought of it still sent shadows dancing across her mind. The silver-darkness of them beckoned her. She mentally reached out, sending proverbial hands skittering into the folds of black mist. No, she had never been afraid of the dark days, the cloudy thoughts or even shadows. She embraced the night, the darkness like a blanket of warmth.

I’ll live through this, she thought.

Even if it meant being alone without wings. Even if it meant grovelling beneath the royals or pleading to the humans.

She only hoped it would mean something.

Finche stood, lifting the bucket of crabs with him, and placed a gritty hand over her shoulder. “Wait and see what tomorrow brings you.”

Zendaya swallowed against the nerves and squashed them down. Deep down. She nodded in thanks.

Sand shifted beneath her uncle’s feet as he padded away towards the docks. He’d sell off most the catch there before returning home. Hopefully with a couple crabs saved for their dinner.

Alone, and not so eager to return to their cramped cabin, Zendaya tilted back until she was laying against the still sun-warmed stone. Silver tendrils of moonlight reached down for her, rustling between the sea grasses bundled either side of the jutting ledge.

She closed her eyes against it. Against the salty wind and the rushing sound of waves being drawn back into its depths.

Girl with the moonlit heart, what do you wish for?

She didn’t care if the question was a gull’s obscured cries on the wind, or if the words simply came from a place deep inside her. But she swore an ancient presence surrounded her with a steadying warmth, enough for her to voice the desperate thoughts.

“For wings. Of any kind, of any path, just so I can be part of my people. So I too can share the burden of faerie.”

Which burden would that be?

“The one that taught men fear. The one that could change their minds and bring peace. So that no faerie will have to fear failing the Unfolding, like I do.” She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the scent of home. “I don’t want to be sent to the Southern continent. I don’t want to slave after the royals either. Nobody should have to.” Her limbs trembled against the smooth rock. Each breath rattling through her.

Some are blessed with serving the family of Oslon.

Indeed some were. The healers, who received generous amounts of coin for their service in the palace. Then there were the gardeners and the cooks, the finest of all Mayvera could offer. Many faeries with the wings of their specialties worked hard to be offered positions under the Oslon Royals.

And yet, Zendaya couldn’t stop the feeling of wrongness at the King having so much control over any faerie’s profession. She couldn’t stop the bubble of rage that filled her gut at the thought of her people being denied to do what they loved, simply because their wings weren’t the right colour. Or at how wrong it was to discard faeries with already shredded souls, over inability to grow their wings.

What would you do for wings, Star-shine?

Her body steeled against the thought. “Anything.” Almost, she wanted to add.

Would you promise?

“I swear it.” Cold defiance settled deep within her. Followed by a light tingling in her chest. A cool breeze brushed the feeling away.

When she finally opened her eyes to the night sky, clusters of stars still shimmering high above, a spray of seawater crested the lip of the rock. Zendaya flinched against the wet-cold. Her long, braided hair becoming damp and twined with beach sand. She swore, shoving an obscene gesture towards the stretch of sea along the horizon.

She would do almost anything to Unfold tomorrow.