Chapter 1:

It's as if he spent years in a dream, unwilling to admit to his faults, but not willing to live entirely as a burden. So he ran away, away from the pitying eyes and empty kindness. He couldn't handle the way their eyes stuck to him, as if staring at something they need to fix, a problem. It was painful, and he couldn't handle it anymore.

Mike looks down at his hands, counting the scars as the passing traffic briefly illuminates his face. His eyes are hollow and cold, a result of the countless years he’s spent living in squalor. His black hair hangs in long knotted hair, reaching the small of his back. He has never been that tall, but he’s never let that get him down. His skin is tan, but the kind of tan you’d get from being forced to be in the sun, he probably got skin cancer years ago, but he’s never had the funds for checking it out. He grits his teeth and stands up, pacing around the cold stone room. He stumbles over a glass jar and it becomes the new choice for his rage. He slams his foot into it, bruising his foot and sending the glass flying into the wall. The drip of blood down his calf calms him back down as he thinks about the possible medical expenses such an injury could incur. He slowly slides down the wall, grasping at his hair.

“I don’t want to do this anymore…” He mumbles tiredly, staring blankly at the blood as it slowly trickles down, staining his sock.

He hears a loud noise, almost like the sound of metal tearing apart. He sits up in a hurry, already picturing the horror show of a car crash he’ll see outside. But as he runs to the window he can only stare in frozen confusion. Outside if gone, replaced by a colourful void, sparkling stars and millions of tendrils all flying around wildly. He stumbles back, his eyes wide.

“W-What?...”

Suddenly he feels like he’s being watched from millions of different places. His skin begins to itch, the feeling of bugs tearing it apart from the inside. He doubles over and begins to hyperventilate, the pain from his leg long forgotten. He begins to try and scratch his own skin off, leaving deep gouges in it from his unkempt nails. He freezes in place, blood dripping from the deep wounds as he hears nothing. His own breathing is silent, he can’t hear anything at all. The door swings open and a being of pure astral force walks in, the beings stomach swirls with a dark void, like a portal to somewhere that doesn’t exist.

“Ah…” Mike stares with religious worship, his eyes growing glazed over. Hundreds of black shadowy hands begin to emerge from the portal, reaching out towards the horrified man.

His escape is pointless, he turns and runs, screaming all the while. His shoe is grabbed by one of the faster hands, but luckily his shoes were basically fallen apart anyway, meaning he can just slip out. He has to run through the shards of glass, embedding them into the sole of his foot. He screams in pain and runs into the only other room within the ‘house’ he is in. He fumbles around for a knife, or any sort of weapon. A hand clasps onto his nape, digging its fingers in, a feeling of coldness seeps into his body from the contact, stopping his body from moving. The being slowly walks over and stands next to him, looking down at him with its featureless face.

“Are you angry?”

Mike stares silently at his hands, unable to look around. More hands grab onto his body, slowly dragging him back towards the portal on the beings stomach.

“It’s because you’re weak. You’re losing because of your own inferiority.” The being says simply, showing no discernible emotion.

Mike forces his hand to move, it feels like moving through glue. His skin slowly tightening as he forces it through the air. He grabs a bottle of mead, one he brewed himself before his entire life fell apart. He screams and swings it, his skin tearing slightly as he forces it faster than it should be able to go in this situation. It slams into the being and just sinks into it, slowly being absorbed. The being has a large gash appear in its face. Mike gets excited for a few moments before it turns to horror as he realises that it’s smiling.

“M-Monster”

“Maybe”

Mike feels himself vanish, tearing apart by all the hands and reformed, over and over as they slowly acclimate his very being for whatever plans they have.

He slowly opens his eyes, the pain he was feeling a distant memory. He looks around, his body feeling tender and weak, as if he is a snake who went through moulting. He stares with wide eyes at the beautiful landscape all around him. His earlier shock and horror is completely forgotten as he stares out at something he could only dream of seeing. Rolling hills covered with a layer of the brightest green grass he’s ever seen, the hills seem to continue onwards for miles, stretching out around him like an inescapable screensaver. He lets his gaze travel further along until he feels something is off. He reaches up and feels his hair- it’s short, and clean. Both things he hasn’t had any control over in years. He looks around and spots a body of water, just a small pond, but enough for him to see his reflection. He attempts to run over but he feels unsteady, falling backwards and hitting his back on a rock. Mike curses and sits up, rubbing his back. He freezes and lets his hand slowly glide along his back, feeling a weirdly soft material. He looks back over his shoulder and stares in awe at a pair of gorgeous wings sitting firmly upon his back, almost giving off the illusion of a cape. He gives a soft tug and feels pain, signifying that they are in fact attached to his back. He laughs incredulously and slowly runs his fingers through the feathers, staring in delight at the bright array of colours. Just from appearance alone he could be convinced that a parrot had gifted him their wings. He tenses his back muscles and laughs excitedly as the wings slowly unfurl, reaching a massive 20 foot wingspan. He stops after a minute, feeling an ache as he uses muscles he never usually does, his wings neatly fold back in, once again resembling a cape that stops at his heels, reaching above his head. As he catches a glimpse of his blonde fringe he remembers his original goal and begins to shakily stand, adjusting to the new weight on his back as he begins to walk forward, stumbling as he leans too far forward or back. Eventually he reaches the pond, walking at a decent pace. He stares down into the water, locking eyes with a gorgeous man that couldn’t possibly be him. He feels his face, his fingers searching for any of the wrinkles or scars that once adorned it. He laughs quietly, his hands cupping his cheeks.

“W-Wow…” He crouches down to look closer, startled by how bright blue his eyes are. “I’m… Hot?” He mumbles, feeling a muted sense of pride at his newfound appearance. He brushes his hair back, enjoying how smooth it is under his fingertips. 

He realises that he has no clue where he is and stops admiring himself, looking around. Spotting a distant silhouette of what could be a building Mike begins walking that way. He growls softly in annoyance as his wings keep making him stumble and look like an idiot. He trips and throws his arms out, catching himself on his forearms, there’s a sharp stinging pain and he can feel blood drip down it. He winces and looks at his arm, he spots a sharp stone near the end of the cut that travels along his forearm, obviously the reason it exists. He sighs and grips the end, softly pulling to see how much it hurts. Other than a dull ache he doesn’t really feel that much pain, so he tugs it out and lets out a sharp gasp, shaking his head

“Fucking ow…” He rubs his arm and goes to inspect the wound.

His eyes widen as he watches the wound slowly close, the skin seeming to knit itself back together. He doesn’t have any words to describe how he feels as he watches it happen, feeling a deep sickness at how wrong the entire action seems to him. Staring at his arm mindlessly quickly turns out to be a horrible decision as he feels a sharp blade pressed into the back of his head.

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

“Stay still. Any movement and I kill you.” A cold voice says from behind him.

Not one to disobey such an obvious command Mike freezes straight away. He frowns softly and tries to gauge the person behind him just from the sound of their voice. He can’t tell what accent is, but based on the direction it came from, he can imagine it’s not the tallest person. And there was a gruffness to it, but it sounded scratchy. He feels a pang of annoyance as he imagines his life being threatened by a girl. Him? A girl? Get real. Mike rolls to the side, intending to spring up and tackle the person behind him, but his wing gets caught under him, sending sharp spikes of pain up along his spine. He screams and gets off his wing, staring straight along the length of a spear shaft.

“I thought I warned you” The girl growls, staring him straight in the eyes.

“W-Wait, I don’t have any money-” The spear is prodded forward, leaving a small cut on his cheek.

“Don’t talk.”

Mike nods obediently, swallowing his saliva and staring up at the woman.He can’t help the slight shake of his hands. He has dealt with threats before, but usually it’s bare handed or with a normal weapon. Which weirdo threatens someone with a spear?

“What is an Avian Beastperson doing out here?” the girl asks, her eyes staring unflinchingly into his.

Mike stares at her blankly, both unable to answer and unsure if he should. The spear shifting slightly more forward is definitely enough incentive for him to try though.

“I- I have no clue what you’re talking about, man” He says, his eyes following the point of the spear as it traces along his skin

The girl scoffs and studies Mike, her eyes like a wolf’s looking at a sheep.

“Fuck do you mean by that?” She asks, clearly unimpressed by his newfound beauty.

“Look, I just woke up here after some… Thing put me here” He responds meekly, fully aware of how horrible his excuse sounds. “If you can point me towards the nearest bus station I’ll get back to my place.I promise I have no money”

The girl stares at him like a crazy man. “A bus? What the fuck is a bus? Are you some stupid fuck? Have you injured your brain?” She asks, clearly thinking he has some mental issues.

Mike bristles at this, he lost everything in his life except for his intelligence, a fact he was proud of until he started drinking.

“Fuck you, am I in some fucking far off tribe? Who doesn’t know what a bus is?!” he remarks, his wings fluffing up- Wings? He slowly begins to piece things together. His mouth half open with another insult on the tip of his tongue. “W-wait… where are we?” 

The girl scoffs and rolls her eyes, annoyed with him “We’re in Azur, are you daft?”

“Azur. Where the fuck is Azur?” Mike thinks, staring blankly up at the girl. 

The girl stares back just as blankly, only hers is more from a lack of interest, rather than confusion.

“Look, either you explain yourself or I turn you in to the town for some gold.” She says, tapping her foot impatiently.

“T-Turn me in?” He mumbles, picturing any number of fates.

“Yeah, some freaks love you birds.”

Mike feels a deep repulsion at the idea of slavery, flashes of his life with his father run through his mind. His hand flicks out, grabbing the spear and snapping it, his eyes burning with an anger. “The fuck did you just say to me?...” He growls, standing.

The effect isn’t quite as effective as the woman towers over him. Instinctually he flares his wings out, making him seem taller than he is as his wings block the sun, casting her in shadow. She dashes backwards and pulls out a knife, crouching low and studying him with wide eyes, watching for any abrupt movements. Mike stares at the broken spear in his hand and his wings slowly fold back in as he calms down. He drops the spear and raises his hands placatingly.

“Look, I just need a place to stay. I’m fine with working for it, I didn’t mean to break your stick.” He says, his mind racing wildly as he stares at the shattered spear. With no clue how he broke it he’s scared to actually do anything else.

The girl stares at him for a few moments, not relaxing at all. “Do you know how to cook?”

Mike nods.

“Clean?”

Mike nods again

“Brew?”

Mike frowns and tilts his head. He’s unaware how adorable this looks from an outside perspective, like a curious bird.

“Like, brew drinks and stuff” She reaffirms, the tension slowly leaving her body as she stares down at the man.

“Yeah, I do. Why?” Mike asks curiously, blinking a few times, his head tilting back the other way.

“Then I can let you stay at the tavern for a while… You’ll have to impress Hal though.” She says dryly, sighing and putting the dagger away. She grabs the spear shards and scowls, annoyed. “This cost so much money…”

“Uh… Sorry about that.” Mike mumbles sheepishly. He extends a hand and smiles politely. “I’m Mike”

“Lai.” The woman responds, walking ahead of Mike towards the distant building.

Lai, stands at the  height of 5'7", she has a  tousle of brown hair framing her face, she possesses an air of both resilience and determination. Her tanned skin bears the marks of the outdoors, accentuated by the faint scars that crisscross her features, each telling a silent tale of battles fought and challenges overcome.

There's a distinct aura about her that speaks of wilderness and adventure, as if she's walked through forests and scaled mountains with ease. Despite her youthful appearance, there's a maturity in her gaze, a depth that hints at experiences beyond her years. Lai carries herself with the poise of someone who has navigated the rugged terrain of life, her every movement betraying a keen awareness of her surroundings.

The pair reach the door, Mike meekly walking in behind her, startled by the wide array of beings walking around the busy tavern. Other than a few curious glances nobody really interacts with them. The tavern is filled with creatures Mike has only seen back when he used to read fantasy stories. His eyes land on a tall woman behind the bar. She looks as if a bull has been personified, her entire being screams power. Mike lets out an involuntary chirp, making Lai smirk and glance at him. Mike blushes slightly, annoyed at this new quirk he didn’t expect. Lai walks over to the bar, Mike following a distance behind her. She talks to the woman at the bar and points back at Mike.