Reine was experiencing a rare yet tenuous time of peace, all knowing that it would likely not last more than a year at most. The country, while powerful, had no close allies save for the distant lands of Ekra Eshan. It sat far to the north, separated by a sea that currently is controlled by the western country of Acamus, a human republic with deep-seated hatred for the Harpen who call Ekra Eshan home. A hatred birthed from having once been slaves to the avian race and had refused to let it go despite centuries having passed since those times.
It was also that hatred which made Acamus enemies with Reine. While both were ruled by humans, the monarchy of Reine sought to let the past be the past. In the year of 817, Reine and Ekra Eshan signed the Unison Pact, a symbol of peace between their people. Acamus, not less than a month later, would launch a surprise attack on Reine’s border. This was the start of what had become known as the Eternal War.
As its name would suggest, the Eternal War never truly ended. Even the time of peace the countries saw in current times was merely a reprieve. All knew it was only a matter of time until one marched into the other’s lands, and the lands would once again be torn apart by blood and war. None thought a lasting peace was truly possible, and any who were optimistic enough to bring it up were firmly reminded of one thing: it had been tried and failed.
In 874 of the seventy-fourth cycle of life on Rag’na’rog, King Oscar Barborasa X of Reine sought to bring an end to the Eternal War. A peace meeting was put together between him and Acamus’ Prime Minister Holcross Silvester in Reine's holy city of Pierzé. The peace meeting never happened, for King Oscar’s son and Reine’s crowned prince, who had lost his beloved fiancé to Acamus’ forces months earlier, killed him when he heard the news. The prince would later be hanged for regicide as decided by the five dukes that act as Reine’s law keepers, and Queen Alyssa Barborasa II would become the first matriarch to rule the kingdom.
The peace meeting would then be canceled, Queen Alyssa having just as little love for her human brethren in Acamus as her brother. It would also see Reine transition from a patriarchy to a matriarchy for a century and a half. None are quite sure of the true events of how it transitioned then back into a patriarchy, but it is believed the dukes removed the last ruling queen from power because she threatened to tear away their law-keeping duties from them. The point was made though when King Oscar’s son killed him: Reine would not settle for peace with Acamus.
This moment of peace, in 942 of the seventy-fourth cycle, was never agreed upon by both sides. The entire purpose of it was to restock on supplies and to draft and train new recruits for the upcoming campaigns into each country's territories. Farmers were stretched as thin as they could to account for this, and blacksmiths, tailors, and other craftsmen and women were contracted by both governments to supply equipment. Typically, Reine would receive help from their Harpen allies, but Acamus had blockaded the sea between the countries. Reine did not have the ships to break the blockades, and they had just as bad of a relationship with the country that separated them from their allies on land as they did with Acamus.
For the first time since the war had started, one side had taken a clear advantage. To the world around them, Reine was fighting a hopeless war.
To one young Harpen hen, however, with feathers the color of ash covering all her body save for her scaled legs and avian talons, this was all unknown. She did not worry for the war, or the blockade, or even the history of the country she lived in. All she cared about at that moment, on the day everything began, was that there was a part in a river deep enough for her to jump in. So, not caring at all for her mother calling out to her in the distance, she sprinted headlong to the river's edge and leaped.
Moments later, she felt the embrace of the river hit her feathers. Against what her mother would want, she opened her eyes and peered into the murky water around her. She couldn’t see a whole lot, but something about the way the world looked underwater was fascinating. Perhaps it was because it was the closest thing she knew to flying, her wings still not completely grown and the bone clear in what had not yet been covered. She waited excitedly for when they would, and for the day she took to the skies for the first time.
Having traveled as much as her family did due to their nomadic nature, she couldn’t stop but imagine what the world looked like from above. She questioned what trees looked like when she was the one looking down upon them, instead of them looming over her. She wondered how huge the field farmers tended to truly be, and if she could fly high enough to get it all in one glimpse. Mostly, however, she wondered if the feeling of rivers flowing against one's feathers were the same as it would be with the breeze under her wings.
Unlike some questions, like how did human hands work, she knew that she could one day answer them.
After a minute of looking at the world from under the water, she surfaced and breathed in the fresh air around her. She had to close her eyes as the feathers around them dripped with water. She shook her head like a dog before once again opening her eyes, revealing yellow iris’ not dissimilar to that of an eagle. She quickly swam to a point in the river where her talons could clutch the ground decently well, her large tail floating on the water as she did. As she sat down on the river’s edge, a smile visible through her feathers, she allowed herself to feel nothing but the water that still clung to her body.
“Nyal Mols Mors!”
It lasted for four seconds, her body recoiling a bit as she recognized the voice. Looking behind her, she saw a Harpen far older than her. It was her mother. They shared the same ash-like feathering, a stockier build compared to the slimmer one her daughter had gotten from her father. Her irises were a deep red, though Nyal couldn’t see them well given how said eyes were narrowed at her. Add that to the look of disappointment that was evident on her face, and Nyal found herself unable to look her mother in the eyes.
“For Oracles' sake, dear, don’t just take off on me like that!” Her mother, Aria Geer Mols, said. Her voice coming out at a stern yet caring low alto, which combined with her tone made her words carry more weight. Nyal didn’t respond, eyes focused on her reflection in the water. Her mother placed a wing on her. “Listen, just walk with your father and I next time. You know how much we worry about you.”
“I understand,” Nyal replied. She felt her mother’s wing rub against the feathers on the top of her head. “Sorry, mom, I got carried away.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Just don’t do it in the future,” Aria told her, getting a smile and nod from her daughter. A smile that Aria made sure to return as she joined Nyal in sitting at the edge of the river, allowing her feathers and legs to soak in the cool waters. “That said, I can’t exactly blame you. It’s been too long since we took a day or two to just relax. Right Lasp?”
Once again, Nyal found herself looking to dry land, this time towards her father. Harpen males and females had little to no gender dimorphism between them. The best way to tell a male apart from a female is their more vibrant feathers. In the case of one Lasp Leir Mols, his feathers were a brilliant orange. It was clear from one look that he was who his daughter had gotten her build from, for he was slim and exceptionally frail.
She did not, however, inherit his fear of water.
“Yep, been too long,” He said as he opened up a book that he had held with one of his wings. Nyal remembered he had obtained it from a merchant at the last human village they had traveled through. “Finally have a chance to do some reading. Better than feeling fish scales against my feathers.”
“Is it in Acamese or Harparic?” Nyal asked him, her face practically glowing with excitement.
“Acamese, I’m afraid,” Her father told her. Near instantly, that excitement that was on his daughter’s face fell away to sadness. “I’m sorry dear.”
“No, it’s fine,” Nyal replied as she turned away from her father and looked at the water’s surface. “I just… I wish I could speak their language. It would be nice to have others to talk to.”
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As she spoke, her thoughts turned to the harpen homeland. Unlike her parents, Nyal had been born in Reine and had never gotten the chance to see the land her people called home. She was supposed to have been born there, but Acamus’ blockade made travel home impossible. When her egg was laid, her parents were in Reine, and with Acamus destroying all ships that dared to try to pass through, they had come to call it home. The years had allowed them to gain some broken but passable knowledge of the human language, but Nyal was not so lucky.
Every word humans said was too fast for her to understand, and even then their words made no sense. She knew their greetings and other basic words, but none of it was enough to hold anything close to a conversation. It was so much more complex than Harparic with an alphabet twice the size and so many more sounds that words could use. Speaking it felt nearly impossible, and that was to say nothing about reading it.
“Hey, it’s fine. In time, I’m sure you will speak the language better than your father and I,” Her mother reassured her, rubbing her forehead against her daughter’s neck; a sign of love and appreciation among their people. “Besides, Acamese is notoriously difficult to learn. All that matters is that you are doing your best to understand it.”
It didn’t raise Nyal’s spirits much, but she appreciated what her mother was trying to do. In an attempt to focus on something else, she concentrated on the feeling of the water against her wings. It didn’t help much, the thought of how disconnected she felt to everything around her was ever present. The thought that she might never be able to communicate with anyone but her parents or the precious few other harpen in Reine was saddening. She wanted to talk with humans, to laugh and smile with them.
At the end of it all, she at least had her book back at their camp.
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Time passed from midday to late afternoon, the Harpen family spending most of their day at the riverside, enjoying the sounds of nature and the relaxing water. They couldn’t stay forever, of course, and a time came where they had to leave it for the camp they called home. Aria and Lasp watched as Nyal leaped from root to root, rock to rock, as they traveled through the forest. The couple watched their daughter with smiles on their faces, only calling out to her when she got too far ahead of them.
All three of them were aware that, no matter how happy Nyal looked to those around her at times, she was desperate for interaction. The girl clung to her parents like a bur, and while she did wander out of view consistently she never truly wanted to leave her parents. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t have the skills to hold a conversation with someone fluent in Acamese. The ability to live on her own in Reine, for that reason alone, was impossible.
“As if her having that book didn’t make this difficult enough for us,” Aria whispered quietly so that Nyal didn’t hear her. “I’m just glad no one has figured out what it is yet.”
“Only because we leave it at camp wherever we go. It’s too risky to bring it with us in front of humans,” Lasp reminded his wife. His words put a downtrodden look on Aria’s face, one he couldn’t help but share. “I’m just as worried about her as you are. She can only stay with us for so long until someone finds out, or she leaves to be on her own.”
“I hope she doesn’t hate us for the secrets we’ve kept from her,” Aria replied. She felt her talons dig into the earth a bit, a shiver of fear passing through her spine. “We will have to tell her about it at some point. Let’s do our best to comfort her when the time comes.”
Lasp nodded in reply, a somber smile on his face as he spoke. The forest gave way to a dirt road, one well traveled at that. Nyal, with no more roots or rocks to walk on, waited for them to catch up to her at said road’s center. When they reached her, she pointed a wing to the part of the road heading north. Aria nodded, showing that Nyal’s memory of where they had set up camp was correct, and started on their way.
The family remained quiet for a time, listening to the sounds of nature as they did. It was a peaceful day, enough to make Aria and Lasp forget about the fact the country they were in had been at war for over a century. Their nomadic life allowed them to avoid being in the center of a battlefield, keeping their daughter away from the blood and sadness that tore at the heart of the land. Just like with many things, that innocence wouldn’t last, but they would try their best to let her keep it for as long as possible.
Suddenly, a voice called through the forest, and right away Nyal could tell it wasn’t Harparic. Her eyes caught on a human man on a horse covered in armor, two others at his side. They were singing, but the language was a lot more rugged and harsher than that of Harparic. She could tell the men weren’t exactly experts at singing, but if there was one thing she had picked up from humans, it was that one didn’t care how great you sang.
If one human sang, others would no doubt join in. Her family had stayed at taverns before in towns in an effort to help her practice her Acamese. It didn’t help much, but she had never seen a place that rallied behind music in much the way a tavern would. Whether one knew the words or not, the moment a song was started, others couldn’t help but join in. Nyal had fallen victim to the camaraderie of mankind in those times, unable to help but join in and dance. It was one of the few times she felt she could truly connect with them.
“Hail, feathered brethren! I hope the roads have been kind to you today!”
Nyal did not make out a single word that the man spoke. Embarrassed at her inability to communicate, she fell behind her parents and kept her eyes peeled to the ground.
“Good day, soldier. Loving weather we get today,” Her father’s acamese was similarly unrecognizable beyond his initial greeting. She could tell, however, that his words were far less certain than that of the man he talked to. “Out patrolling in Duke Azkeith’s honor?”
She could tell by the look on the leading human's face that he was somewhat amused at her father’s acamese, but kept it to himself. He nodded, hiding the smile as being meant for other means.
“Aye, with the Razia faire fast approaching we must keep the roads clear of bandits for those arriving,” The soldier’s words were too fast for Nyal to even attempt to recognize any of them. “I assume you are the Harpen that the camp up the road belongs to?”
Her parents nodded, but try as she might, she couldn’t make out why they had. Her mother turned to her as her father continued to speak to the human knight, a look of intrigue on her face.
“Nyal, we’ve never taken you to a human faire, haven’t we?” Aria asked. “At least not one you were old enough to really enjoy.”
“Yeah, but I remember what you said it was like,” Nyal replied, her still-growing wings flapping as she recalled it. “There were a bunch of merchants and entertainers and food! That is where you got the clothes we use when inside the human towns, right?”
“Indeed. As we are in their land, and as it is customary for humans to wear clothes, then we must too,” Her mother said with a nod. There were more reasons outside of culture that humans wore clothes, of course, being human shame and lack of feathers to keep them warm. Didn’t make her point any less correct. “Well, it seems one of their faires are gonna be in the area. Do you wanna go?”
Lasp’s attention suddenly turned from the knight to his wife. “Hun, Makaus is rather close to the border. What if–”
“The countries are at peace right now, Lasp,” She said, interrupting her husband as she did. “Besides, we don’t usually get the chance to bring Nyal to these events. We got a chance right now, so let’s give it to her!”
Nyal had to keep herself from jumping up and down in excitement as she heard her mother and father speak. From what she remembered, the last one her parents had been to was when she was around five, and her father had stayed back at camp with her. She didn’t know too much about why, but she was aware that she wasn’t the first child her mother and father had had. It was the reason they were so protective of her, at least as far as she knew.
“Nyal, are you interested at all?” Lasp said as he looked at his daughter. She nodded excitedly, the prospect of seeing a part of human society she had never really seen before too interesting to pass up. “Then we shall be making a detour on our way to Scylia. Be on your best behavior while we are there, understand?”
“Of course!” Nyal replied.