“You’re ready,” said Isatha one morning, waiting in front of Rethias house.

“Ready for what?” Rethia cocked her head, puzzled.

“Why, your First Flight, what else?” Isatha led the way through the maze of bridges, as always. By now, Rethia had developed some skill with walking on the planks, and climbing ladders without getting her wings tangled.

“Wha- But… Are… That…” stuttered Rethia, scrambling for a coherent thought. The First Flight. The test to become an adult harpy. To be allowed to fly without supervision and even in the vincinity of the village. Was she ready? She had barely learned how to fly! Woken with no memories just a few weeks ago! This…

“I’m not ready!” she blurted out, scaling a ladder.

Isatha turned around to look at her.

“But of course you are ready. You have wings to fly and eyes to see the wind.” Seeing the hesitation in Rethias eyes, she grabbed her by the shoulders and said with a serious tone: “You are ready.”

Rethia gulped and straightened her back. If… if Isatha believed her ready, then… maybe she was?

They made their way to the upper end of the cliff via the Floating Baskets, where they met shaman Celia, three males and a host of harpies.

“Who have you brought before us, Wind-Sister?” asked Celia with a haughty voice.

“A hatchling, Wind-Sister. To become one of us, to dance with us, til the end of times,” intoned Isatha.

Rethia pulled her wings as close as she could, straightening. It was an important moment. She could tell by the unusual way of speaking. Like a ritual.

“Then let her fly. Let her prove before the Great Sprites that she is worthy of her wings.” Celia threw her wings open in a theatrical gesture.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“It shall be.” Isatha bowed her head to the shaman, and the three males stepped forward.

One held a belt with several pouches. One held a scarf, checkered in black-and-white and rimmed in green. And the one in the middle, who looked suspiciously like the male who had always handed her dinner, held a necklace with a clear stone.

Isatha acted as an intermediary, handing her the belt and the necklace. Nodding as Rethia settled the belt properly around her waist, so as not to hamper her wings or tail, and with the necklace sinking into her plumage, Isatha tied the scarf around her neck, the long tails hanging down her back.

“You will fly around our plateau and land in front of the shamans cave, where the Great Sprites will judge your journey. Should they find you worthy, you will be declared an adult and full member of the flock. Every harpy that sees you from now until your return is forbidden from helping you,” said Isatha, looking at her with grave eyes. “Now, fly and prove your worth!”

Rethia shivered. This was it, wasn’t it? The formalities were over. She didn’t feel ready, but she had to do this, or she would bring shame on Isatha.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Rethia stared at her silent audience and winced. This would be so much easier without everyone staring! Taking another breath, she crouched, then jumped as high as she could, her wings snapping open, grabbing the air, quickly carrying her higher.

Below her, she heard excited hoots and screeches. She faltered, her wings getting into an updraft slightly wrong, throwing her askew. But with a flick of her tail, she was back on track. Sweat trickled down her neck, only to be soaked up by the scarf. And wouldn’t that be something? To fail right at the start of her First Flight?

Calm down, Rethia. This isn’t different from all those training flights. You just have to fly along the edge of the plateau until you are back. Maybe you have to sleep outside for two or three days, but really, it’s no different! she tried to tell herself. But I’m flying without Isatha! She saved me so many times during training! What if I do something wrong and fall? I’ll die! – Didn’t Isatha say that I’m ready? - But… uhh…

She teared up as her thoughts warred. She was now circling high above the Floating Baskets. The construction was tiny from up here. The lake of the training grounds looked like a large puddle.

Focus! I can do this! Isatha believes in me. She stood by me after I lost my memories. She has more experience than me. She taught many hatchlings and they have all become fine Wind-Sisters!

Well, she didn’t know if all the hatchlings had made it, but at least she thought they did. She finally angled around to follow the edge of the plateau. Without knowing how large it was, she beat her wings to get done with this as quickly as possible. The sun was half-way to midday. If she was fast, she could be back for dinner.