Cyclone, a Wings of Equinox Short Story, Part Seven: Constant Sorrow

My head burned with pain. All I could hear was my own heartbeat, the slow reverbing drumbeat.

I began to open my eyes, but only saw darkness. I rubbed at my eyes with my wings, trying to clear the sleep, but it didn’t help. Only more darkness.

Am I blind? I wondered, squinting into the shadows. A low laugh made me freeze, my painful heart speeding up.

“So, they’ve put you in here with me?”

I whirled around, teeth bared, trying to find Fireheart amidst the darkness. I finally saw her dark orange eyes glowing like embers in the darkness, the pupils narrowed to dragon-thin slits. “This is fortunate.” She chuckled. “This is very fortunate.”

“Why am I in here?” I growled. “I have committed no crime.”

“Really? That’s not what I heard.” She curled her lips back in a cruel smile. “I heard they caught you and your precious daughter trying to escape. After curfew no less!” A high-pitched cackle left her throat. “I always knew that one day my perfect baby brother would crack.”

“Where is she?” I demanded. “Where is Whisperspring?”

“How should I know?” Fireheart sniffed. “All I know is you’re in here with me, you’re the reason I’m in here, and now I have the perfect opportunity to kill you.”

I heard her hooves scraping against the stone floor, driving up bursts of sparks in the darkness. I backed away, panting.

I didn’t realize I was bringing up my fire breath until Fireheart’s wicked face lit up in its orange glow. “I see.” She sniffed. “So it’s going to be like that.” She opened her mouth, orange and blue flames sputtering from it. “Fine then. I’ll burn you to death.”

“ENOUGH!” A guard’s shout came from somewhere behind me. I heard scraping and rustling before a familiar silver form came into the cell.

My throat closed when I saw that it was Smokewing. My father.

“Fireheart, come with me.” He growled, not looking at me.

Her orange eyes flickered in interest. “I’m being released?”

“You could say that.” He narrowed his eyes. “Fireheart, daughter of Smokewing and Sweetwind, you are hereby demoted to the Surface Order and are to be subject for burning. Should you ever return to Dark Order lands you will be killed on the spot. You are no longer the daughter of any Dark Order pegasus.”

Fireheart’s eyes widened. “But… Father…”

“Do not try to beg for anything.” He growled. “I’ve half a mind to kill you, but this is my last mercy to you. I’m sorry I have failed to raise you properly, daughter. You are a disgrace to this family, and I wish to never see your face again.”

Fireheart’s jaw slackened, and for the first time in my life, I saw pain in her eyes. Our sire’s words had actually struck a nerve in her heart.

“Take her away.” Smokewing growled to the guards behind him. Their approach unfroze Fireheart from her shock and she jerked her head upward. “What about him?” She asked, tossing her head toward me. “Not only did he break curfew, he did it trying to defect. I’ve probed his mind. I have all the—”

“SILENCE!!!” Smokewing roared, his voice shaking the cave walls. The guards gripped her mane and tail, and he strode closer. “Do not make a father kill his own daughter.” He whispered. “This is already painful enough for me.”

“Then why are you doing it?” She asked, mocking.

He didn’t answer. “Give her a long burning.” He snorted to the guard. “She’ll just replace her wings again afterwards.”

“Let’s go.” The guard grunted. Fireheart balked against it, staring at me. “You’ll live to regret what you’ve done to me.” She hissed.

Smokewing watched as the guards dragged my sister down the darkness, an unusual mix of sadness and anger in his eyes. He turned to me, the same look still blazing. “Stormblaze…” He sighed. “This truly pains me, son, it really does. What were you thinking?”

“I tried the treatments, Father.” I said. “But the visions wouldn’t go away. And… sir, I know this sounds crazy… but I believe I’ve come across something that for the first time in my life that I feel like I can rely on. The King is real.”

“Do you even hear what you are saying?” Smokewing asked. “You are asking for not just burning and banishment, but death. Do you want to end up like your sister? Think about your mate, and your daughter.” He nodded to the opening behind him, and the guard left. An uneasy feeling struck my gut.

“I know what I’m risking.” I sighed. “Look, you don’t have to do this. Just let me go. I will never return to the Dark Order. You don’t have to kill me, but you get rid of me.”

“I can’t do that, Stormblaze. You know I can’t.” He said. “I’m going to give you one last chance to reconsider. If not, I will burn your wings. I hate to do it to my son… but rules are rules. Please consider what you’d be losing.”

At that minute, Whisperspring came into the room, edged on by the guard my father sent. Her blue and green eyes were wide, staring at me. “Daddy?” She whimpered. “What… what are they…”

“It’s all right, Whisperspring.” I glared at Smokewing. “Let her go.”

“I’m not holding her captive.” He snorted. “Just using her as a reminder of what you lose if you follow this lie.”

“I…” I closed my eyes, seeing the darkness of the abyss I’d seen in my dreams. I remembered slipping on that long bridge, always at risk of falling, until I set my eyes on El-Roi. And He would always look back at me.

“Follow me, Stormblaze, and you will not fall into that Abyss.”

I looked back up at my father and daughter. “Burn my wings, then.” I whispered. “I cannot recount it.”

Smokewing sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to do more than burning, son.” He lifted his head. “Stormblaze, son of Smokewing and Sweetwind, heird to High Commander and son of my heart, I hereby sentence you to death for treason against Abaddon.” He sighed. “I will try to make it swift for your sake.”

I closed my eyes as Whisperspring began to sob. Her sweet voice begged on my behalf, muffled to my pained ears.

All I heard was my drum-beat heart again.

He opened his mouth and I could feel the heat of the flames against my skin. I braced myself, before a scream split my hearing and the heat stopped.

I opened my eyes, confused, and felt as though a sharpened wing had cut through my heart as I looked down, following my father’s blank gaze of horror.

Whisperspring’s smoked, charred body lay between me and my father. Dead.