Genre (s): High Fantasy/Adventure

Written When? Freshman Year of College

Prologue

"The Odd One". From the day he was born, that was John Golden's nickname. The only surviving chick of Eva and Robin Golden, the first thing he did when he finally gained his feathers was go on an adventure.

He fell out of the nest and hobbled over to the Maglin Woods Flying School, where, with beak dropped, he watched the birpils practice their great gift–the gift of flight. Taken so aback by the magnificent birds, John tried flying himself. He opened his tiny wings and gave them a quick flap.

When the birpils saw he had joined them in the training ring, they merely laughed at the chick and threw him out, as if he were garbage.

"Who wants to hang out with The Odd One of Maglin Woods?" was what they asked themselves. "He might as well become a bat instead and hang upside-down in a cave."

Poor John was heartbroken. On his way back to Bird Colony, he slathered himself down with mud, with hope that nobody would recognize the skinny, Red-Crowned Crane, but by then, everybody knew who John was.

As he walked through the trees of his village, birds laughed, pointed, and called him out. "Look at that ridiculous red crown on top of his head!" yelled a stork. "Who does he work for–the Witcher?"

"Not the Witcher, but the Butcher, instead!" laughed a heron. He put his foot to the side of his beak and yelled at John. "Loser! Loser!"

"Odd One of Maglin Woods, why are you still here?" asked a snowy egret. "You belong on the grill! Get rid of that red crown! It makes me sick!"

John hated his red crown. For that reason, he always wore a hat on his head. He found his hat when he was out hunting one day in Maglin Woods and stumbled upon an abandoned campground. The campers took everything with them... Well, almost everything.

That was when John saw it. Sitting on top of the campground's picnic table was a straw beach hat. One look at it, and John was fascinated. Finally, after what felt like forever, he found the solution to his ridiculous red crown.

With a smile on his face and wings folded, he came within reach of the picnic table and used his claws to pick up the hat. First, he shook the bugs off it. He checked it for stains and holes and finally... plop. He plopped it on his head. He went to take a look at his new accessory in a puddle of water, and his dark eyes instantly brightened when he no longer saw his red crown. For once, John knew he did something right.

When he returned home that night, Eva asked him, "John, where did you get that hat?" and John replied with merely four words:

"This hat is me."

John's early days were slow, but then Eva and Robin enrolled him in the Maglin Woods Flying School so he could master the art of flying. One can imagine he was not very excited about that, especially after what happened with the birpils when he was a chick.

However, if not for flying school, the story of John the Red-Crowned Crane would not be worth telling. It was flying school where he learned something that would forever change him. If not for flying school, he would have never learned the lost prince of Pinta Country was alive. If not for flying school, he would have never become a legendary bird. If not for flying school, he would not be John Golden.

***

The night was eerie, quiet, and still, but then the whinnies of horses pieced it like an arrow.

Under the black shadows of night galloped a black Andalusian. His hooves picked up mud and dirt while he ran, which splashed onto his rider.

Though his face was hidden in the shadows, one could tell the rider was young and scared.

Following close on his heels was a group of about five more men, all riding horses and carrying crossbows. Arrows flew by the young man and his horse, narrowly missing them.

The two friends leaped out of the woods and onto the wide-open spaces of Pinta Country.

The boy's horse whinnied, to tell him he was just as frightened as him.

To comfort him, his rider patted his neck.

They ran, ran, and ran.

During the process, the Andalusian jumped over creeks, streams, and haystacks.

More arrows sailed by them, as the enemy steadily drew closer.

As an attempt to lose them, the boy steered his horse towards dark, overgrown figures in front of them–the trees of Maglin Woods. Teeth clenched, he yelled at his partner, "Go, Despereaux! We can do this!"

Just like that, the horse threw his head and moved faster.

The two made it to the overgrown woods, but right when they did, the boy cried out in pain. By accident, he violently turned his horse's head, and he tripped over a tree root.

Whinnying, both horse and rider went down. As if they were drunk, they somersaulted down a hill.

The boy flew from his horse's saddle and crashed into a puddle, while his horse quickly got up on all fours before he could smash into a tree.

The enemy lost them when they galloped into the woods.

Despereaux stayed quiet, until the pounding of horse hooves died down. He then quickly turned his head in the direction of his rider. Bucking slightly, he hurried to the puddle to check on him. What on Earth just happened to them? Why did they suddenly go down?

Despereaux saw it. The puddle of water surrounding his rider turned a dark shade of red, which indicated only one thing. The boy had been shot by an arrow.

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Chapter 1

John the Red-Crowned Crane

"Do I have to go to school today?" John asked Eva when she woke him up in the trunk of their tree that morning. "I already know how to fly."

"Yes, but you have to master it if you're going to become a true Red-Crowned Crane," his mother snapped at her son.

"I don't want to be a true Red-Crowned Crane. I want to fly to Pinta Mountain."

Pinta Mountain was the name of the highest, most mysterious point in all of Pinta Country. John heard so many interesting stories about it: stories about magic, sacrifice, danger, and pride. He wanted to see if the stories were true, but that was to Eva's disappointment.

She shook her head and pulled John's long neck out from under his left wing. "Don't ya play dumb with me, young bird. Get your head out of the clouds and fill it with the knowledge of flight."

"But, Mom!"

"No buts! You're going to school, and that's final!" With that, Eva turned on her heel and marched out of John's room.

Groaning, he put his foot down and headed over to his hat, which rested on a small, leafy table in the corner of his room. He frustratingly puffed out his white and black feathers. What was the point of Flying School when he lived in Bird Colony? He may never know.

For breakfast that morning, John, Eva, and Robin went to the King Tree. King Tree was the main tourist attraction of Bird Colony. It was a huge tree that had an unlimited number of huge, sturdy branches. Therefore, the birds of Bird Colony set up shops, restaurants, hotels, apartments, and even a birdport on the branches.

John, Eva, and Robin went to Sunnyside Up Bird for breakfast. The restaurant was located on one of the highest, longest, and sturdiest branches of the King Tree. Tables were nothing more than smaller, flatter branches that had leaves on top of them.

Only one branch up was the birdport. From it, birds took off and landed. Larger birds carried small animals and smaller birds on their backs, while smaller birds and small animals casually enjoyed the flight.

John twisted his neck and looked up so he could watch all the action. The rays of the morning sun slithered through the King Tree's branches, scanning him like a lighthouse. They caused John to feel a little hot. He lifted his right foot and pulled his hat off his red crown so he could fan himself with it. His dark eyes rolled over to two starlings not far from his and his parents' table. He couldn't help but to chuckle when he saw them fighting.

The birds flapped their wings and pecked at each other. Starlings. What was with them? They always beat each other up.

John had to admit, it was quite amusing watching them, but then his mother had to ruin everything.

"So, John, what are you getting for breakfast? They have scrambled bugs, fresh fish in a bowl, and baked berries."

"I want to go on an adventure," was John's answer. He set his hat back down on his head.

"Adventure?" Eva growled. She turned her head in the direction of Robin, as a way of asking him for support. "Robin, can you please tell him what rubbish that is?"

Robin, who did not like being put on the spot, cleared his throat and said in a sarcastic voice, "A disgrace. Simply a disgrace." However, that was all he said. He merely picked up his cup of water in his claws and took an awkwardly long sip from it.

Upset, John narrowed his eyes and told his mom, "Fine. If you're not going to let me check out the birdport, then I am not going to eat breakfast."

"John! All right, fine. Then you leave me no other choice." Right when she said that, Eva opened her son's long beak and tried to regurgitate food for him, but he slapped her away.

"Mom, I'm two years old now! You don't need to regurgitate food!"

"I'm just trying to take care of you, baby boy. If you're not going to choose an item on the menu, then we're going to go back to square one."

"Mom, you're impossible." John backed away from the table and tried to leave. Unfortunately, the second he turned around, he crashed into a beautiful snowy egret.

Both birds toppled to the ground and landed on their fronts. Groaning, they held their wings out to their sides.

John had a wingspan of at least eight feet, and his wing secondaries were black.

"Oh, now look what you did, John," Eva angrily told her son. "You just knocked down the waitress!"

Sure enough, the snowy egret was the waitress for their table. She used her wings to help her stand, as well as John, and smiled at the family of Red-Crowned Cranes. "No, it's okay. I didn't watch where I was going."

"I apologize about my son, ma'am." With her wing, Eva pulled John next to her. "He's a little..." She acted out a cuckoo sign with her claws.

"Mom!" John protested. "All I want to do is check out the birdport! Is that really too much to ask?"

"The birdport, eh?" asked the snowy egret. "Well, I will say that a flying race is going to start there any minute now. One look at your son, ma'am, and I can tell he is a very powerful flier. Perhaps you should enroll him?"

"Seriously?" John's eyes widened, and his beak dropped to the ground.

"Not happening!" Eva lugged John into an uncomfortable hug and flicked off a few loose feathers. "My baby boy has school today! He doesn't need to waste his precious time on a stupid flying race. Tell him, Robin."

Robin said nothing. He took another sip from his cup and hid behind the Sunnyside Up Bird menu.

The snowy egret held up her wings and backed away from John and his parents. “It’s just a suggestion. The Elder is the one holding the race. He says that whoever wins will get the great opportunity to meet the lost prince of Pinta Country.”

“Prince? You mean Prince Benjamin?” Once again, John’s eyes widened. “He’s real?” He’s heard stories of Prince Benjamin, but he never thought they were true.

According to legend, Prince Benjamin’s castle burned down when he was just a baby. The fire killed the king and queen, but some say the prince managed to escape. There was a lot of controversy with the topic, though. People, animals, and birds argued that if somehow, the prince did survive the fire, then how come he never became king? It was a strange tale, indeed, and there was very little proof to suggest if any of it was actually true. That’s why the legend of the Lost Prince of Pinta Country was so widely known. Everybody found it fascinating.

John’s skinny, olive green legs shook under him as the egret continued: “Well, I don’t know if he’s the prince, but the Elder seems to think he is.”

“What are you talking about?” angrily asked Eva. She pushed John off her chest. Finally, he could breathe again.

A weird look washed across the egret’s face, and she asked the cranes, “Didn’t you hear the news? I thought the mailbird delivered the treepaper yesterday.”

“The mailbird doesn’t come on Sundays,” Eva explained. “At least, not to our part of Bird Colony.”

“What’s happened?” John asked in an excited voice. He started to jump up and down.

Robin even lowered the menu and gave the egret a curious look.

“A human boy fell into Bird Colony last night,” she elucidated. “While out on his midnight flight, the Elder found him and his horse.”

“Really? A human boy?” John literally was in the air now, and he flew in short, excited circles.

Eva tried to pull him down, but he continued to glide.

The egret nodded at his question. “Yes. The poor thing was injured and losing a lot of blood, so the Elder took him in. He seems to think this boy is Prince Benjamin.”

“Prince Benjamin! He really is real!” Throughout the rest of Sunnyside Up Bird, birds stared at John who stooped down and picked up a random broom from the corner of the restaurant. He tap-danced a little and started to randomly sweep the branch.

“Hey! Odd One of Maglin Woods!” an adolescent stork shouted at him from another table. “Get those skinny legs out of my sight!”

“Skinny legs?” Immediately, John stopped dancing, and he peered down on his olive-green feet.

Luckily, Eva came to his rescue. “How dare you!” she shouted at the stork, and she hurried to her son. “You’re going to take my son’s head off with your insults.” She pulled the broom out of John’s wings. He stared as she threatened the stork with it.

Robin merely approached the waitress who just told them the news about the mysterious boy and asked her questions about him.

John tried to grab his parents’ attention, but they did not listen to him.

Eva was too busy threatening the stork, and Robin was stuck in an interesting conversation with the rather attractive snowy egret.

That was his chance. John had to know more about the human boy who stumbled upon his colony. Was he really the lost prince of Pinta Country, or was everything a mere hoax? Whatever the case, he opened his massive wings and gave them a flap.

As John lifted into the air, he stretched out his neck and long, skinny legs. His hat shook a bit on his head, since a sudden breeze just passed through the King Tree’s branches, but he focused his attention on the branch that housed the birdport.

With a flap of his wings, John jumped into the rays of the sun and soared up towards it, right when a flock of sparrows whizzed by him. The birdport. That was where the answers to John’s questions were. Once he learned more about the mysterious human boy, his life would never be the same again.