I was born, Mom says, dollhouse-
ready, pre-Barbie hair a field
of curls, the early bird that
...
[+]
The sea battered itself against the base of a tower, starved and hungry. The setting sun glittered on its back, burning orange streaking across the dark water.
A lonely seabird wheeled through the sky, eyes as fathomless as the water below. It nested in the cliffs nearby, drifted on the cold winds, plucked small fish from the waves.
The tower had a visitor today, the same one that had braved the narrow trail and climbed the steep steps every day for the past fortnight. The seabird watched as his and the mage's shadows moved through the great stained glass window. The visitor was angry, shouting, for the mage still would not give him what he wanted.
The seabird dipped closer as the mage turned away, so near the edge of the window that another step would take them out of the seabird's sight.
Behind them, nearly at the window's center, the visitor drew his sword.
The seabird dove.
When it had first arrived at the cliffs near the tower, the seabird had done so with a crowd of fellows. They'd settled there to rest, bickering and squalling and hungry. The fish had been more plentiful then, enough to satisfy them on this pause in their journey. The tower hadn't stood out to the seabird at the time, just another jut of rock against the sky.
It had been hunting near the shore one day, chasing a school of little guppies into the shallows and scooping them up by the mouthful when the mage had come down to the rocky beach. They had kept away well enough, and the seabird ignored their presence.
Perhaps it shouldn't have, because something sent it tumbling tail over beak. When its head finally stopped spinning, it found the mage's concerned face staring down at it, warm hands under its shoulders.
"Are you alright?"
The seabird squawked and flailed, falling out of the mage's hands. It caught itself just before it hit the rocks and fled out to sea.
Something had changed after that. The seabird found itself questioning things, how it hunted, why it traveled. None of its fellows had the same drive to know, and the seabird's existence was suddenly startlingly lonely, even among a flock of thousands.
In its isolation, it had found itself drawn to the mage. They'd been out on the beach often and at all hours, doing strange things with magic, or observing the tides and the phases of the moon, or watching as the crowds of birds thinned with the chilling air.
The seabird had watched them back, and as the rest of its fellows continued their journey, it stayed.
Light exploded from the tower, and the seabird flinched back as it scorched the sky, brighter than the sun at her highest point. A scream pierced the air, and through blaze the seabird saw a shadow fall down, down, down.
It wobbled in the air as the light died, splotchy colors making its vision hazy as it tried to continue its journey. The edge of an open windowpane was suddenly in front of it, and the seabird fluttered back before it brained itself.
"Careful!" the mage said. They leaned over the sill, arm outstretched, but pulled back.
The seabird hovered before them, uncertain now. It tilted its head, meeting the mage's eyes. It could see itself reflected in them, a flickering silhouette that blocked the light of the sunset.
"You're the minnow-hunter, right?" the mage asked. "The one my spell- I'm sorry about that."
The seabird warbled softly, low in its throat. It was alright.
"Were you worried?" the mage asked. They leaned back a bit, and the seabird decided to be brave, landing on the windowsill before them with a flutter. It chirred, clacking its beak as it looked up at them.
The mage smiled. "That's very kind of you." Slowly, they reached out, and the seabird held very still as gentle fingers ran over its head.
"...It gets a bit lonely out here," the mage said. "I know you're a social bird. Why do you stay when your flock has long since moved on?"
The seabird hopped forward, half-spreading its wings to keep its balance as it stretched up and poked the mage in the chest. It croaked as it pulled back, looking the mage in the eye.
It didn't fit with its fellows. Neither did the mage fit with theirs. Out here, by the edge of the ocean, a horizon stretching to the end of the world, they'd been circling each other, waiting for one to make the first move.
"It's going to get colder," the mage said. "The cliffs are windy. You could stay with me if you like." They step to the side, gesturing to the wide, tall room behind them. "It's certainly no open sky, but you wouldn't be staying here all the time, and I keep the tower warm-"
The seabird jumped from the sill, flying up to the top of the room and wheeling about. It swooped low, dodging around this and that as it explored. The inside of the tower was warm, and filled with things it couldn't help but wonder about, glittering objects and soft fabrics and all kinds of lights and colors, and the seabird wanted to know what each thing did.
It landed on a table in the middle of the room, looking at the mage with bright eyes. They still stood by the window, a soft look of hope on their face.
The seabird chirped, hopping once, and the mage smiled as they crossed to meet it.
"It'll be nice to have a friend."
Outside, the sun finally dipped below the horizon, settling in to sleep until the next dawn.