Chapter 6A number of days passed as Sierra kept wandering through the Mysterious Beyond while he waited for his wing to heal. Maybe it would’ve made more sense to stay put since the swamp at least had a decent food supply, but sharpteeth’d get you if you lingered anywhere in the Mysterious Beyond for too long.
Truth be told, the days the flyer spent healing seemed to go by faster all the time.
When he ventured into the desert again, he stumbled upon an oasis and dipped his feet in to stay cool.
He tossed rocks into the water to see how big of a smack he could make on the surface, which that brat also enjoyed.
He played “fetch” with the brat not just to get food but also when he started getting bored.
He watched the brat chasing lizards across a grassland, snapping its little teeth like the vicious thing it wasn’t.
He avoided a few sharpteeth by getting low to the ground and hiding in the reeds with the brat close by.
He saw one sharptooth was smaller than the others, and her ferocious-looking parents were bathing her with gentle licks.
When a violent downpour of skywater came, he found shelter under an overhanging cliff.
He pointed out to the frightened hatchling how every flash of lightning made a big, cool shadow against the rock.
He found a large, low tree hole that made a great place to sleep, even though a handful of bugs were also using it.
He squished a large beetle after it tried to pinch the hatchling.
He kept up his trek across the Mysterious Beyond with the brat in tow, keeping a close eye on his wing to see when he’d be able to return back to the sky.
Finally, one day, it happened. Sierra woke up, though the brat was still asleep beside him, and he saw that the hole in his wing was gone.
A thrill surged through him to think he might not be anchored to the ground any longer. The new flesh over it looked raw and red, as if it hadn’t yet fully healed over, but maybe it’d still be good enough.
For the first time in ages, Sierra poised himself for takeoff, flapping a few times before launching himself into the air. Excitement surged through him as he soared into the blue, circling around once before coming back to the ground again, smirking in triumph at his regained ability.
This was it. He didn’t have to be grounded any longer. He didn’t have to depend on some little brat for survival…
The brat.
Sierra turned back to look at it and saw its little chest rising in and out as it slept. It looked so peaceful.
Then the flyer became conscious of himself again, and he jerked his gaze away from the hatchling. What was he waiting for? He had wings now! The sky was calling him, and this sorry hatchling was nothing to him. It had never been. It wasn’t his responsibility in the first place!
Sierra forced his attention towards the sky again and took flight. This time, he didn’t come back down: he let the ground sweep away from him as he thrust his body higher and higher, farther and faster, driving himself to a powerful speed. The wind rushed past him as he shot through the sky, brushing sky puffies aside as he gained altitude. Anyone watching him from below would have thought he could reach out and touch the bright circle. If he had looked back, the brat curled up on the ground would’ve been a speck of dust to him, if even visible at all.
This was freedom. This was power.
Sierra didn’t need anyone else anymore. He was alone.
Back on the ground, the hatchling began to stir. For a moment, he tiredly blinked before softly lifting his head.
That was when he realized something was missing.
“Da?” he peeped, turning his head left and right in a search that was in vain. “Da-da?” He got on his feet and began toddling around in circles, hoping Sierra would appear somehow.
There was no response but the empty whistling of the wind, and the hatchling sniffled, heartbroken.
There was no one else around. He was alone.
Quite a ways off now, Sierra frowned at the earth he flew over with a stern eye, everything on it below him now. As a rumbling sound began, he watched the land he was detached from begin shaking, all its fury unable to touch him now.
Meanwhile, the earthshake knocked the hatchling off his feet. Unaware of what was happening, the baby wailed, but his cries were lost in the chaos.
No one was coming to save him.
He tried to fly away, but falling trees, along with enormous boulders rolling across the land, threatened his ability to reach a safe height, and he plummeted back to the ground when a falling branch swatted him.
There was nothing the hatchling could do but clutch the ground in terror, eyes wide with terror as he shook like a leaf. The world was falling apart around him, a deadly crack breaking through the ground and snaking its way closer, about to wipe the baby off the face of the earth. In overwhelmed helplessness, the hatchling raised his small head and shouted one last time:
“
DA-DA!”
No response came but the roar of the earth, as if to laugh at the deserted young one. The incoming crack was only feet away—
With a sudden whoosh, the hatchling was carried into the air, snatched out of peril by an unseen force. Then, looking upward, it was overjoyed to see a familiar face. Long beak. Orange eyes. Firm frown.
“Da-da!” the hatchling cried, beaming up at Sierra in delight.
Sierra looked down at it, just staring at its glee for a moment.
Then—barely, as if he wasn’t ready to let himself go too much—the corners of the flyer’s mouth turned up. His eyebrows became a little less heavy.
So this was what the beginning of a smile felt like.
Once the threat of the earthshake had passed, Sierra set the hatchling down at the top of a tall tree and perched beside him.
“Look,” Sierra groaned. “Let’s get this said up front—I stink as a dad. You’re about the dumbest thing for picking
me to care for ya!” He shook his head as he thought back to his own father and was struck by an awful similarity. “I took off and
left ya!”
He looked over at his brat, who had pulled a thorny vine from the tree trunk and was about to put it in his mouth. Quickly grabbing the plant away, Sierra tossed it towards the ground.
“Ugh,” he sighed. “I mean, I never had no dad I could look up to. Sheesh—I never had nobody to look up to at all.”
Lifting the end of Sierra’s wing to its mouth, the hatchling began to drool on it, cooing happily. Sierra let him.
“I guess I’m thinkin’—maybe I can try this anyway, though,” Sierra muttered. He made a face. “Argh, that’s all I’m sayin’—this all’s gettin’ too mushy.”
The hatchling hopped into his lap. “Brat,” he babbled, pointing to himself, then pointing at Sierra. “Da!”
With somewhat of a smile, Sierra shook his head. “Brat…that’s not a real name. Guess you’re gonna need a name, aren’t ya, you little pest?”
The hatchling squeaked enthusiastically.
Sierra stared at him and mulled it over for a moment. “Wings,” he finally said.
With a contented coo, Wings leaned back against Sierra’s chest and began sucking his thumb.
Sierra absentmindedly stared off towards the horizon as he brought his arms around Wings and, perhaps not even consciously, rocked him a little.
Something new was starting for the flyer. Something better.
THE END
Phew...done! Well, I hope this turned out alright, despite my hurrying to meet the deadline. Any comments, criticism, or feedback of any sort is more than welcome!
Unfortunately, when I signed up for the fanfiction site today, I found out that I wouldn't be allowed to submit a story until the day afterward, so I can't send you a fanfiction.net link for this until tomorrow. I really hope that doesn't mess up my chance to be in the vote, but let me know if it's a problem.