“I’m not sure I buy it, personally,” Maggie said, preening her feathers in the reflection of the newly-dug pond in the courtyard. It had been about a day since Ink-Talon’s “treatment” at the claws of the Guardians, and the theories he’d come away with were all she could think about. “It’s too clean, on top of the logistics being wild. If we’re all just being ‘transmitted’ into our bodies from the Lost Lands, why are we tied to them at all? What about latency?”

“Hey, if it works, it works, right?” Song swished her tail across the surface of the water, clearly relishing finally having space to stretch without drying out. “Getting caught up on the particulars isn’t going to do you any good.”

“I dunno, I think I’m going to go crazy if I don’t start trying to find some answers.”

“It is a moot point, unfortunately. You still can not leave the city to test any part of it.” Seeker Sunny-Plume whistled from its perch in a nearby tree. It had been hanging around them quite a lot these last few days, volunteering to take up watch shifts or escort duties whenever it could, and just generally socializing off-duty when it couldn’t. Maggie certainly wasn’t complaining. It was a cheerful presence and a fantastic splash of color in the otherwise stark scenery of the College. No, she had other things to complain about instead.

“I’m working on it,” the myna huffed in annoyance. “Learning how to navigate an alien bureaucracy from scratch is not exactly easy. Even with the Archivist’s help.”

“You got Archivist Sharp-Search to help?” Sunny chirped, clearly surprised. “It has never been one for company in the library, and typically does not agree to assist in research unless the topic interests it.”

“It apparently owes Ink-Talon and Quiet-Dream a favor, but honestly? I get the feeling that it enjoys teaching people more than it lets on. It’s the part where people just ask it to find records and little else that it seems to resent.”

“So, you have a plan, then?” Song tilted her head inquisitively.

“Yep! The Lead Guardian has made its intentions for us quite clear, so I’m not even going to bother trying to reason with it.” Maggie hopped back, flaring her wings for dramatic effect. “I’m going to invoke a Consensus!”

“...I have no idea what that even means.”

“Consensus is Darksoil’s system of governance,” Sunny-Plume explained. “Any time someone wishes to take an action or set a precedent that affects a significant group of people, those affected must reach a Consensus on the matter. The affected gather, points are debated, and then a vote is held, all mediated by a designated Arbitrator. If a majority agrees to the proposal, then it is enacted. If not, then it is rejected.”

“When word of our ‘affliction’ first reached Darksoil, an emergency Consensus was called to determine what to do with us. Apparently there was a ton of arguing and the only majority solution was to grant jurisdiction for our care and observation to those in relevant Lead roles. However!” Maggie pivoted on her right foot as she explained, balancing the movement with an outstretched left wing. It was honestly her favorite thing to do in this body. It made her feel like some kind of larger-than-life cartoon character with big expressions and even bigger gestures. If she was going to look goofy with her human mannerisms as a bird no matter what, she could at least have fun going all out. “We’re entitled to the same right to Consensus as anyone else living in this city! We can make a case for our freedom, and I’d like to think that the people here are good and compassionate, on the whole.”

“Well, here’s hoping that works out for you all. I’ll be rooting for you.”

“You’re one of us too, you know,” Maggie said, caught off-guard by just how casually Song was discounting herself. “You don’t want to stay cooped up here forever, do you?”

“No, but look at me.” The salamander pulled herself up onto the grass to make her body as visible as possible. “I’m a half-blind aquatic amphibian with a missing leg. The best I could hope for travel-wise is getting wrapped back up in a wet blanket and hauled back to the river I came from. What I remember of it is that it was a very lonely experience, living separately from everyone else in that river. Stream-Drifter may have been anti-social, but I’m not.” She swung her tail around to angle herself back towards the pond and slid in. “Free or not, I’m stuck with this body and its limitations.”

“Come on, we’ll figure something out. Don’t give up so-”

“I’m not giving up, Maggie!” Song snapped, literally, her mouth opening and slamming shut with terrifying force. “I’m accepting reality. There’s no point in holding on to the idea of things that are long gone. Trying to force it is only going to hurt.”

Maggie didn’t have a response to that, and after a minute of painful silence, she meekly apologized and walked away.

“Pearl, wait!” Sunny-Plume quickly swooped down to land in front of her, the concern in its voice coming through loud and clear. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Walk with me if you want to talk.” After they were back inside and well out of earshot of Song, the myna asked a question. “Sunny, am I trying too hard?”

“You are always trying very hard. I personally find it admirable, not excessive.”

“Right, but it’s like Song said. If I don’t accept my reality and keep trying to force myself to be human, then I am just hurting myself.”

“Of course, you should always be willing to accept reality. But reality is complex. Your body is part of your reality, but so is your mind. And your memories. And your beautiful voice. In my opinion, denying them is just as harmful as denying your body.”

“Fair point, I just don’t want to-” Maggie paused mid-sentence and looked at Sunny-Plume before laughing. “Did you just say I had a ‘beautiful’ voice?”

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“You do!” the kestrel squawked, flaring its wings. “It stops being difficult to process once you are used to it, and the way you construct your expressions has a certain… musical quality.”

“Musical? I’m no songbird. I sound like a tinny imitation of a real person.”

“It is not the melody of your voice, it is the rhythm. You have such a wonderful cadence. Orderly and patterned, but wildly varied. Every expression is full of so much detail and deliberate, considered sounds. I had never heard anything like it before meeting you. It is soothing, and you are very pleasant to be around as a result. Please never stop trying to be yourself.”

“I… Wow.” Maggie halted, opening and closing her beak a few times as she tried to come up with anything to respond with.

“Was that too much? Sorry.”

“No!” Maggie nearly yelped her response, surprising even herself with how much she’d been thrown off by the compliments. “No. I’ve just never had anyone say something like that about me, that’s all. It’s nice. Thanks.”

“You know,“ Sunny whistled, giving the myna a mischievous side-eye. “For a while, I worried that you were incapable of being flustered or embarrassed about anything inconsequential. Good to know that I was wrong.”

“Yeah. Great. Now you can make it up to me by helping me track down these ‘Arbitrators’ I need to work with to get a Consensus.”

“It would be my pleasure!” The Seeker fluttered ahead, gesturing to its left with a wing. “This way!”

“Got it, thanks.” Maggie sighed as she followed, her posture drooping a bit once the kestrel wasn’t looking. She wasn’t stupid. She could tell that Sunny-Plume was clearly infatuated with her as more than just a close friend. It was different than how a human would have gone about it. Way less wavering and being nervous and way more open expressions of affection with no pretense. It didn’t even seem to care if she reciprocated or not. But the intent was clear, and the emotions were genuine.

The problem, however, was that it was working. She was genuinely happier whenever Sunny was around. Having someone take an interest in her as a person and be so supportive, regardless of her unending list of problems, was literally the best thing in her life right now. It had a great sense of humor, and was actually receptive to her own, once she’d gotten over the cultural barriers a bit. If she were trying to talk someone else through this, she’d tell them how obvious it was that there was something there, and to just go for it. But actually being here, in her own head, in this body…

It’s the body that’s the problem, Maggie realized, trying very hard to walk naturally and keep these thoughts to herself. I like Sunny, but I’m not attracted to Sunny. She’d had a decent number of partners in her old life. The relationships were genuine, but deliberately non-committal and very physical. But here she was, in a foreign body with different functions and different needs. When she looked at Sunny without thinking about it as a person she knew, she just saw a bird. There was no spark, no base attraction to push her forward. Maybe if Sunny were another myna something would happen, but she couldn’t be sure if it would even then.

It threw everything she knew about romance out the window. When she thought about Sunny, she didn’t get that fuzzy physical response. That “butterflies in your stomach” feeling that clued her in to what was going on. Instead, she just felt… happy. Comforted. Eager to see it again if it wasn’t there, and reluctant to leave if it was. She couldn’t properly label the feeling. She couldn’t categorize it. She couldn’t even properly respond to it. Was this romantic love, or just close friendship? Was there even a difference without the physical component?

She’d gotten the impression from people like Sharp-Search that there absolutely could be a physical component to relationships between these creatures, even across species, though she sure as hell wasn’t about to try and find out how that worked. Just the thought made her uncomfortable, though again, it was a purely mental response. She had no physical revulsion towards those things to speak of. This was mainly notable because she did have physical responses to other emotions.

Anxiety, panic, fear, pleasure, and contentedness all felt quite familiar, with the only difference being her much faster heart rate and what muscles tensed or relaxed, which was to be expected. Other than that, it was sadness that joined disgust and whatever she felt towards Sunny in her utter lack of physical response. Most animals didn’t have the ability to cry, after all, so she never got choked up or teary-eyed. It helped her keep her composure, which was good, but also she’d experienced first-hand (first-wing?) what could happen without that kind of cathartic release valve on stress. Lashing out at Sunny-Plume the day they first met was still something she regretted.

“Pearl, over here!” A sharp screech from the kestrel got Maggie to pay attention to where they had ended up. They weren’t at the usual entrance to the College, but rather a smaller one off to the side, where a number of random objects had been strewn around the sides of the path in the gap between the College and the surrounding city. Boxes, poles, planks of wood, damaged pieces of furniture, and other things she didn’t recognize were laid out with an odd deliberateness that she couldn’t place.

“Wow, what happened?” Maggie asked, craning her neck to try and see more of the clutter. “Looks like someone’s house exploded.”

“Only two or three items in this are from my home, if you must know.”

“Wait, you set this all up? What for?”

“So…” Sunny-Plume took to the air and landed on top of one of the poles and flared its golden wings in an imitation of Maggie’s own flourishes. It was honestly way better at looking impressive than she was. Having the color palette of a brilliant sunrise certainly helped. “...This is your flight training ground!”

“What.”

“Obviously I had this set up ahead of time, before you asked to track down the Arbitrators– and I will help you do that– but for the consensus you are looking to attain, you will need to meet with all of them. Lead Guardian Rooted-Place uses bureaucracy as a shield, and will claim that this concerns the safety of each citizen in each district of the city. There are fifteen Arbitrators, one for each district, not including the College. To be honest, you are not equipped to walk to all of them in a timely manner. It would take a whole day just to see one of them, assuming nothing goes wrong.” It swooped back down in front of Maggie and looked her dead in the eyes, the piercing intensity of the raptor’s gaze somehow conveying the soft, affectionate kindness behind it. “You do not have to do this, of course, but… You deserve to be free. You deserve to fly. I want to give you the skies.”

“Y-yeah!” Maggie half-stammered-half-chirped after a moment, nodding furiously as she once more found herself completely unequipped to properly respond or even tear her eyes away from that intensely kind gaze... “Yeah. I’d like that. Let’s do it!” She tried to hype herself up, shake off this feeling that she wasn’t even sure she wanted to get rid of. Instead, all she managed was fluffing up her feathers like a startled cat.

“Great! We can start over here!” Sunny-Plume took off towards the far end of the field of clutter, waving her over with a wing and hopping excitedly between its feet as she finally managed to process what had just happened. There was only one conclusion she could reach, but for once, it wasn’t an unpleasant one.

Damn, I really am falling for this bird. Go figure.