CHAPTER 61: A BABY BIRD

  Raphael stood at the edge of the recovery tank, arms crossed.

  His posture was immaculate.

  Too immaculate.

  The kind of stillness that suggested irritation had been measured, catalogued, and filed neatly behind professional restraint.

  Sharp eyes tracked the readouts embedded in the glass.

  His expression looked suspiciously like professional dissatisfaction given physical form.

  The tank itself was bathed in the faint, sterile glow of suspended sigils, each rune drifting in slow, deliberate orbit.

  Their light pulsed gently as the restorative liquid clung to Suryel’s skin, as if it were reluctant to let go.

  Raphael exhaled through his nose. “Release the valve.”

  At the sound of his voice, the healing sigils etched along the glass dimmed one by one.

  Their glow softened, then withdrew, the last threads of restorative fluid slipping back into the lattice of the tank with a faint hum.

  For a heartbeat, Suryel hovered.

  Weightless.

  Suspended in that familiar, unnerving space between worlds.

  Then gravity remembered her.

  It reached up insistently and pulled.

  The liquid obeyed reluctantly, draining in slow spirals.

  It slid down the glass walls in rivulets, clinging as long as it could before letting go with soft, hollow plinks that echoed through the chamber, as if the tank itself disagreed with the decision.

  Suryel’s fingers closed around the inner railing, slick beneath her grip, just as her toes met solid ground.

  The platform felt strangely firm after the buoyant float of the tank.

  She drew in a deep breath.

  The air smelled faintly of crushed herbs and metallic sweetness.

  The scent always reminded her of hospital wings and long waits.

  Raphael opened the tank door without ceremony.

  She looked up at him and smiled.

  He returned it immediately.

  A small, precise smile.

  He stepped forward and draped a warmed linen around her shoulders before her body could decide to shiver, then guided her toward a nearby chair with a hand at her elbow.

  “Sit.” He said.

  She sat.

  Raphael circled her slowly, tapping two fingers against his wrist as he flexed and adjusted his stance, already making notes no one else could see.

  His focus was absolute.

  “You know, Raph…” Suryel said hoarsely, voice rough but unmistakably alive as her eyes followed his path, “Most healers let patients miss them by initiating small talk.”

  The words echoed faintly off the glass tank and ivory walls, sounding odd even to her own ears.

  Raphael did not smile, but one eyebrow rose a fraction.

  He flicked his wrist.

  A thin strand of light threaded itself along her sternum, gliding cleanly down her spine before brushing the base of her wings.

  She lifted them instinctively as the glow traced muscles and tendons with exacting precision, revealing every tremor, every lingering tension.

  His scrutiny remained clinical and almost detached.

  “You healed faster than anticipated,” He said flatly, voice echoing in the chamber.

  The light stilled.

  “That tells me two things.” His gaze sharpened, piercing through the droplets clinging stubbornly to her lashes.

  “One, your physiology is resilient to an irresponsible degree.”

  The glow dimmed further.

  “Two,” He continued, tone sharpening, “You are going to immediately do something reckless.”

  “Wow,” Suryel muttered, blinking water from her eyes as a shiver ran through her. “I feel… somehow attacked.”

  Raphael turned away without apology.

  Several hours later, after sitting, standing, flexing, re-sitting, and enduring Raphael’s aggressively thorough reassessments, Suryel was finally released.

  The word, released, was generous.

  The recovery tank still radiated warmth beneath her feet, humming faintly as the last traces of healing energy dissipated.

  Raphael regarded her from his chair after one final scan, then stepped aside at last.

  “You’re cleared.” He said firmly.

  He lifted one finger. “Not indulged. Cleared.”

  His gaze flicked pointedly to her wings. “No forced dives. No altitude games. No improvising. I will also inform Gabriel when he takes you out for flight exercise.”

  “Yes, Head Healer, sir!” Suryel saluted with two fingers, already mentally discarding at least half of that.

  Raphael watched her go with the look of someone fully expecting to see her again within the week.

  Behind him, the tank released a soft hiss of evaporating liquid, as if sighing in relief.

  —

  Helel knocked into her Abode at dawn like a poorly aimed meteor.

  The door rattled on its hinges, shuddered, then gave up with a weary sigh as he yanked it open.

  Helel barreled inside, brimming with confidence and humming triumphantly.

  Armor half-removed.

  Hair loose and wild.

  Wings flexing as if still warm from exertion.

  Boots scraped loudly across the polished stone as he flung his arms wide.

  “GOOD MORNING TO MY FAVORITE SIBLING OF CHAOS!” He announced to the ceiling. “RISE. SHINE. TIME TO GREET THE DAY!”

  He turned sharply.

  And froze when his eyes met an empty bed.

  But his grin returned when he spotted her upright and very much alive near the window, sunlight spilling through the panes and gilding the edges of her gray wings.

  “I heard.” He said, pleased, “That they finally let you out of Raphael’s soup.”

  “I escaped.” Suryel replied from her chair, lifting her chin proudly.

  Yael stood behind her, hands careful and practiced as he tended to her wings.

  “No, you did not,” He corrected mildly. “She was released last night.”

  He smiled softly at Helel before returning to his work, smoothing feathers back into alignment.

  “And don’t rile her up too much,” Yael added gently. “She is still stabilizing.”

  “Oh please,” Helel scoffed, leaning against the doorframe. “She survived Raphael.”

  He approached, eyes bright.

  “Oh, are you preening our little baby sunbird?” He cooed, then turned back to her with an annoying look. “Look at her. All fluffy. All legal to fly!”

  Suryel twisted just enough to glare over her shoulder. “Say the word ‘baby’ again and I will shed on your favorite armor.”

  Yael laughed softly before he could stop himself.

  “See?” Helel laughed louder. “Healthy.”

  He stepped closer. “Move over. Let me help. We don’t want to be late.”

  With theatrical flair, he produced a brush from his pocket dimension and crouched, humming a happy tune and taking one wing as Yael handled the other.

  The quiet rasp of bristles through feathers mingled with the hum of the rest of the Realm waking beyond the walls.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “The flight training will be gradual,” Yael said, voice warm as he angled a feather. “Your wings act like rudders.”

  “Subtle adjustments matter,” He added, thinking back to all the lessons he had learned before. “Overcorrecting will spin you.”

  “Minimal flailing. Got it!” Suryel repeated dutifully.

  “Preferably none.” Yael sighed.

  “Take it easy and be careful,” He said, quieter. “Listen to Gabriel, okay?”

  Suryel nodded. “Okay!”

  Helel snorted, also listening. “BORING!”

  He tugged gently at her other wing to test the tension. “If you want height, commit. If you want speed, fold. Gravity is your friend if you stop screaming at it.”

  “You should challenge it and make it scream at you instead.” Helel’s eyes sparkled.

  Yael slapped his arm, hard, face grim as if he had just seen a future where he would have to retrieve two siblings from high altitude.

  “Ow!” Helel laughed it off and rubbed the spot, feigning hurt.

  Yael gave him a look of displeasure. “Please do not try to pass on your habits.”

  “What? I’m just encouraging her confidence!” Helel shot back with a shrug, nostrils flaring proudly. “It’s the truth. You want to have a fun flight, right, sunbird?”

  She smiled and nodded. “Yup!”

  While they bickered, Suryel drowned the sound out with humming and braided her hair.

  Before she finished, Helel’s fingers took over, tying it off with a cool trinket.

  The trinket gleamed blue as it settled into place.

  A bright azure ribbon with lapis lazuli woven into both ends.

  One she remembered he had promised.

  But she had never received it, since time did not permit.

  Suryel froze, breath caught before she could stop it.

  Her fingers rose, touching the gemstone lightly, checking to see if it might vanish.

  “I found it,” Helel said, tone casual, layered over something older.

  “Held onto it.” He coughed, attempting to clear his throat, but his voice still dropped just a fraction. “Figured I should give it to you.”

  She nodded once.

  A knock came before anything else could be said.

  Gabriel’s voice carried through the door, calm and measured. “Hi! It’s almost time. Thought I’d check in first. See how everything’s going. Do you need anything?”

  Suryel stood quickly, shaking her head.

  “I’m good.” She glanced at Helel and Yael, cheeks warm.

  A clipped smile settled on her face as a realization crept in: The two brothers were meeting the Throne today.

  “So this is me…” She said softly, backing toward the door.

  She brushed past them, tapping both of their shoulders in passing. “I’m going with Gabriel. See you later at the training yard. Enjoy!”

  She skipped into place beside Gabriel as the space folded neatly around them.

  The faint hum echoed off the walls as a breeze stirred briefly.

  Helel stared at the empty doorway.

  He reached up to where her warmth had tapped him, as if hoping he could preserve it there.

  Yael watched his expression before tugging gently on his sleeve.

  “Come on.” Yael said. “We get to choose our new assignments. We shouldn’t be late.”

  Helel blinked once, focus returning before he turned to look at him. “Did you see that? She didn’t even remember to threaten me.”

  The two brothers shared a smile as they stepped into the Lapis Lazuli.

  Gabriel and Suryel emerged by the threshold leading into the Training Courtyard in a quiet ripple of displaced air.

  Morning light spilled across land and open sky, greeting them with warmth as they entered.

  The courtyard smelled faintly of burnt ozone, cold stone, and grass beneath their feet.

  A faint clang of metal rang out from swung practice blades, mixed with the low hum of flying arrows and the thud of marching feet.

  All grounded by the sight of climbing vines along the outer walls, sending a smile to her face as a brief memory surfaced of Yael chasing Helel up there.

  Eternal hosts moved about in loose formations, some sparring, others stretching wings or adjusting gear.

  The space hummed with motion.

  Discipline threaded through casual familiarity.

  Sunlight glinted along winged shoulders and polished armor.

  Suryel slowed instinctively, eyes tracking everything at once.

  She noticed the slight tilt of a tower’s rooftop, the sway of trees brushing against the parapet, the glint of blades catching the morning light.

  All small details filed, processed, and welcomed after a long sterile float in the Infirmary’s tank.

  Gabriel didn’t rush her.

  He adjusted his pace, walking just ahead.

  A presence steady and grounding, like a rope anchoring her through the morning chaos with an earned air of calm confidence.

  “Follow me, through here,” He called, glancing back. “Are you excited for the flight lessons?”

  “Mmhm!” she said brightly. “I am.”

  She always found the time she spent around Gabriel to be the nicest.

  It carried just enough warmth and calm to anchor her without weighing her down.

  Head of Logistics.

  Throne’s Messenger.

  Makes absolute sense, she thought, nodding as she skipped to keep pace behind him.

  They folded through a hidden corner and emerged at the base of a narrow trail climbing a low hill.

  Trees leaned close, leaves brushing Suryel’s shoulders, the breeze carrying a faint mix of moss, bark, and pollen.

  She hummed under her breath, fingers trailing along bark and petals without plucking.

  Gabriel noticed and smiled mildly.

  He said nothing, letting the sound of her hum and the whisper of leaves carry the space with quiet companionship.

  At the top, Logistics unfolded like a living organism.

  Eternal hosts moved with practiced efficiency, relaying information, adjusting routes, coordinating movements across realms.

  Sunlight reflected off polished stone floors, catching dust motes in small bursts, while the scent of parchment, ink, and oil lingered faintly in the air.

  Gabriel stepped into the flow seamlessly, issuing quiet directives, answering questions before they were fully asked.

  Suryel watched them, eyes sparkling with restrained awe, struck by the ease of it.

  The quiet authority and rhythm felt almost musical, coordinated motion made visible.

  Gabriel moved to a raised flight platform, layered like a small tower open to the sky, and she joined him.

  The air smelled faintly of trees and sun-warmed soil.

  They stopped at the bottom, far from the central updraft where Recon deployed into fast-moving currents.

  Gabriel taught by example while guiding newly assigned Recon, still keeping an eye on Suryel in his periphery.

  She did have a record of attempting escapes from Raphael’s care.

  Lessons learned from proximity to other instructors, Gabriel made sure that the both of them were prepared and set.

  Some Recon wheeled far above them, gliding and diving effortlessly, wings glinting in sunlight as a breeze carried the scent of morning blooms.

  “So,” He said, gesturing her forward, “Suryel, did you catch the basics?”

  She swallowed, then stepped up. “I think so.”

  “Great. Hold on to the railing,” Gabriel said, stepping aside with a comforting smile. “Show me.”

  The training was gentle.

  Methodical.

  Sunlight warmed her wings.

  The slight breeze teased feathers loose as she flapped.

  She adjusted to the strange weightlessness in her stomach.

  Until balance was recognized and restored, humming through her bones.

  Enjoyment began to bloom again, tentative and bright.

  Gabriel demonstrated.

  Waited as she processed.

  And corrected where needed.

  No pressure.

  No raised voice.

  Simple patience.

  She followed.

  Fumbled.

  Fell.

  Sought correction eagerly.

  Asked questions.

  Listened intently.

  Adjusted.

  Tried again.

  At one point she laughed, breathless.

  Feathers ruffled, sunlight glinting through her hair as she stared at him for a second, teacher and brother all at once.

  “You haven’t been yelling…” She muttered as she shook moisture off her wing and folded them.

  “Should I be?” Gabriel tilted his head as he passed off another approved assignment to a squad that immediately departed.

  “No, of course not. Just…” She waved a hand. “I was surprised. My sample size is… skewed.”

  He smiled faintly. “Don’t let Raphael or Michael hear you say that.”

  They resumed, moving to greater height.

  She practiced gliding down and flying back up, chatting with others, sneaking snacks, listening to tips from co-trainees.

  The airfield rang faintly with laughter.

  Distant metallic clangs of training blades and soft calls from the nearby grounds carried between air and trees.

  By the end, Gabriel nodded once, satisfied. “Okay. Time to cut our lesson. You still have sessions with Michael and Azriel.”

  She skipped beside him after waving to a few new friends from Logistics.

  Gabriel watched them wave back and smiled.

  Together, they took the long scenic way.

  When they reached the training grounds, the scent of polished stone and sun-baked iron mingled with the quiet late-morning wind.

  The grassy field at the center was mostly empty.

  Most sat in clusters along the wide staircase leading back into the corridors of Lapis Lazuli.

  Michael and Azriel were already waiting.

  Helel was speaking loudly with Michael about strategy.

  Yael listened until his eyes caught movement. He waved enthusiastically. “You’re back!”

  “Yeah!” Suryel waved back, running over eagerly.

  Helel raised an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like you only missed Yael…?”

  “How about me? Where’s my greeting?” He grinned, already reaching for a hug.

  Suryel dodged and hid behind Yael.

  Helel laughed, then continued trying to reach around him, coaxing her like a cat.

  Raphael stood nearby, assessing, then confirming she remained the picture of health he had released from the Infirmary.

  He nodded with satisfaction, then asked Gabriel. “How did she do?”

  “Good progress.” Gabriel replied evenly with a shrug. “She did well.”

  “I had fun!” Suryel said, feet and wings still buzzing with residual excitement. “The best lesson I’ve ever had!”

  Michael’s brow lifted, then relaxed into a smile.

  Raphael stared with suspicion.

  Helel looked offended.

  Yael hid his smile behind his hand.

  Azriel allowed the faintest hint of one.

  Suryel touched the trinket warm at her nape.

  She missed the looks turning toward Gabriel as his attention snagged on something that required immediate focus.

  He turned briskly and walked away.

  Baby bird, indeed.

  Author’s Note:

  *Sips coffee* Suryel has a secret favorite brother?

  Must be the snacks— Ehem.

  I meant, Gabriel.

  It was definitely the middle child.

  Older brother from Logistics. :D

  OH! Also, Raphael standing at the edge of the recovery tank like: “Release the Kraken!”