“Here! Pass it!” His teammate shouted. There are only five people per team, making joining one difficult unless you already have a team established. Quest and Quill was all the rage, and Vito was a founder.

He passed the fluffy feather over to his teammate, who used the wind of his winds to push it along the field. Three people on each team are the Quill’s, who control the center of the field and ensure the feather stays above the ground. They are also in charge of pushing the feather onto the opposing team's scoring grounds. At no point are Quills allowed to touch the feather; they are only allowed to push the feather using the wind generated from flapping their wings. If a Quill touches the feather, it restarts the match, and the feather belongs to the opposing team. 

The two remaining members, the Crests, were goalies of sorts. The crests were on top of their game today, and the score was even. They protect the scoring grounds by pushing the feather back out of bounds. The opposing team gains a point if the feather lands in their area. Five points wins a game. A Crest may use their wings to move the feather if needed, but cannot at any point hold the feather. They can, however, balance it on their head. This has led to some absolutely unreal plays.

His teammate was quick, with sparrow wings. He wasn't the best at hovering, but didn’t need to at that moment. He was flying downfield, which was dumb. The Crest’s would easily block him. All members are expected to play Quill and Crest positions, rotating frequently. Sometimes, it is as often as per match or by game, but no more than three games in a row. Of course, most players have preferences for which position they prefer. The feather used in the game is decided by the team that wins the ‘feather flip’. The most widely discussed topic of the game is which feather is best to play. The rules are that it must be a feather from that team, and the member chosen to donate the feather decides which one. Of course, this is a team discussion, but the decision is ultimately up to the donor. The member is chosen before picking a feather and is not permitted to donate again for two games. 

As expected, one of the crests' to barrels hit him, causing him to drop the feather. Duh. The opposing team's Quill swooped in and intercepted the feather. If the chosen feather is a neutral color, it is difficult to spot in the air, usually results in shorter matches, and is normally used in defensive game planning. If it's a tail feather, it tends to fall faster, leading to speed matches between teams and offensive tactics. Tail feathers are also rarely chosen. Large, bright Contour feathers were the most common choice, as they fell slowly and were easy to spot. 

Vito was a Quill today. He flew to catch up with his opponent and used his wings to generate a wind blast, knocking them off balance. The feather floats gently and Vito swoops to maneuver it. Some matches are played entirely on the ground, with the feather threatening to touch the floor at every opportunity. These were rare matches, however, as most games ended up in the air. Spectators should bring binoculars if they do not have wings to view the matches. The courts themselves started as backyard antics, but now are played in large, open fields where it is easy to mark the space. 

Vito's favorite spot was a Quill, and his favorite feather pick was a wing. They also fell quickly, but were easier to spin in the air. Today was a down feather. He struggled to fly slowly enough to keep the feather afloat. He saw his teammate just under him. He spun to generate some power and flung the feather toward them to catch. Perfect pass! Having predator wings was already a huge advantage; Vito and his sister both inherited Red-tailed Hawk Wings. He was incredibly fast and agile, both on the ground and in the air. Nearly any other player couldn’t compete with his speed on the field. Teams often focused on Vito, forgetting the other members and losing focus on the feather, making it easy for his teammates to get it across the line. Some players complained about him being allowed to participate, but most people were in awe of him. They couldn't kick out one of the founders. 

Vito continued to fly forward. He was fast. One of the Crest’s didn’t see him pass and went after him, as planned. No hand-to-hand contact, but definitely wing-to-wing. Vito smacked his wing hard on the top of the Crest’s, causing him to tumble. He absolutely loved it. At sixteen, he was the most well-respected player on his team and well-liked among his peers. In all his life, he had never felt so special. Except for when he was with his mom. She made him feel special, in her own way. Sometimes he thought about looking for her, but never did for fear of what he would learn. He also couldn’t put Val through all that again; it took her too long to move on from Mom leaving them. If she wanted us, she would’ve stayed! Stop crying about someone who doesn't love you!

Score! His teammate was able to swoop under the other crest and get the final point of the game. He landed to celebrate with his team, but he still cringed when he remembered that night. He shouldn't have yelled at her, but he didn’t understand why she had such a hard time. At least their father loved them and took them in. There's always food, the house was kept clean, and his father let him do what he wanted as long as his grades were good. Meanwhile, Val’s seemed to be declining. She was always good in school, but she recently failed a class this semester. She will still graduate, but barely. 

In Vito’s final year, Quill and Crest became an official sport in Axion. Many agencies quickly contacted Vito, wanting to work with him professionally after he graduated, even though he still planned to take a gap year. He would most likely go with Blackrock University, though a sponsorship from Bellforge wouldn't be bad either.

What would he do with his time? It seemed like he had so many options. He wouldn't stay at home. Hopefully, he could convince Val to go with him, wherever he went. Maybe Grand Junction, he knew he could get across the trees without issue, Val too. He wasn't too worried about any guards; they were mostly pulled back from the forest now that the war was over. Even if some were left, he would be faster than any of them.

Maybe Little Earth. He didn't know anyone from there; it was a big mystery. They sent out all that fake news, then disappeared into war. Now that it was over, he could see what the fuss was about! Or ThoDue! Well… Maybe not. The Marshlands didn't exactly sound exciting to him. 

Wherever he ended up, he'd be okay with it.

Something new Vito just now discovered was that he had grown talons. It was uncomfortable and fast, as his nails grew rapidly. He watched as the black claws that were emerging bloody from his fingertips grew into his father's neck as he held him against the wall. Despite feeling like his hands were on fire, Vito did not let go. He held on as tight as he could, watching the warm trails of blood run over his hands and down the front of Vince’s shirt. Vito briefly realized their blood would be mixed before looking at his father's face. There was no fear, only understanding, and Vito sobbed watching the light leave his eyes. He waited until the blood flow slowed down before lowering his hands to his side and watching as their father's body quickly crumpled to the floor. Vito’s breathing hitched as his arms began to shake without his permission. 

“Vito, that was bad,” Val whispered. In his rage, he nearly forgot she was in the room. Oh my god, I killed him in front of her. He closed his eyes lightly, his eyelashes fluttering quickly as he tried to process the moment unfolding. 

“Was this the first time?” Vito asked without turning around to look at her. She was sitting huddled on the bed with her blanket clutched around her. He clenched his hands into a fist briefly before releasing again, forgetting about his new talons. They left small holes in his palms where he squeezed them. 

“No.” She whispered. Vito fell to his knees in his father’s blood, tears falling quietly from his cheeks. He stared at his father’s neck, where the blood no longer ran, and the ten distinct holes that penetrated it. 

“Val, I- I-” he started before he was cut off. Val had stood up and wrapped one of her wings around him, covering his eyes in the process.

“Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. No one else would do this for me. Quiet. Don’t cry for him,” She lulled as she wrapped herself tightly against her brother's back. Val allowed Vito to cry for the better part of an hour before they got to work. 

They packed their bags and waited till nightfall. They had fourteen hours of night to work with, but they still felt the need to rush. They thought about the best way to get rid of him. Throw him in a geothermal pool, tie him to a rock, and throw him in the eastern reach, maybe even throw him somewhere in the tunnels. All of those came with downfalls. They decided on the forest.

They each carried their father by a wing, flying towards the forest. They would have to fly for at least a few hours, and Val didn't fly as often as he did. But after they ditched the body, they could walk home. They went directly to the closest part of the forest, flying under the trees' cover to head south, towards the Spider Aspens.

They produced a silky thread that they used to catch prey. The silk has enzymes that break down muscle and bones to use as fertilizer. Basically, they were cannibal trees. Anyone caught in their web was bound for a slow death. Their silk can be as thin as a thread of hair, difficult to see. Sometimes you're already deep in a Spider Aspen forest before realizing the webs have already begun to grab you, slowing you down until you can't fly or walk anymore. 

Perfect for getting rid of a body, as long as Vito and Val didn't get caught themselves. They were getting closer. Vito was getting tired, and he could see Val sweating. 

“Up!” Vito yelled. She nodded, and they flew above the trees, holding their deceased father by just the wingtips. The Aspens grew just a little smaller than the pines, so by flying above them and letting his father's body drag through the canopy, they didn't get caught up, but their father did. Soon, he was getting caught on too many branches to keep dragging, so they let his body fall to the forest floor, covered in a cocoon of silk and pine needles. 

They flew a little longer. It was like a weight lifted. One less problem. His shoulders suddenly got an extra burst of energy without holding all that extra weight. He thought he'd be sadder. After all, he killed him. And he did love him. But after seeing what he did, knowing what he's done… Vito just wasn't all that sad. He glanced over to Val. Stoic. Not an emotion to wear. They must be feeling the same thing. Vito glided closer to her and brushed her feathers with his. She looked over at him.

“There! Follow!” He yelled. It was difficult to hear each other with the wind whistling by their ears, so they've learned to yell at each other in short sentences. Vito swept his wings back and whooshed down to an eastern beach. It would usually be closed off by the forest, but having a high vantage point had its advantages. The sand was still cool as the sun began to rise. Val landed next to him and plopped down on the soft white sand. Vito followed, taking off his backpack and pulling out a bottle of water. Their chests were heaving with exhaustion. He took a long chug and handed it to Val to do the same. 

Helion was rising. Val grabbed Vito's hand and held it tightly. It was a new day.

Her light brown hair bobbed up and down as she skipped along, holding Vito's hand as they walked in the riverbed. Her wings were still fluffy little things, and she's growing them quickly! Her shift started at three, and she was only six now. Walking and flapping about. He wore gloves most of the time to avoid accidentally scratching her. 

After his sister's untimely passing, he gave up on Quill and Crest. It didn't seem as big as it used to be now that he was a father. Yes, of course, he adopted his niece. He would never leave her alone, like he and his sister once were. 

“Jean, you're going to rip my feathers out if you keep stepping on them,”

“Vito, can we go to the second shop?” she asked, ignoring him. 

“What do you have for trade?” He asked. She paused her skipping and dug around in her pockets. 

“Umm… Rocks. But they're pretty!” She said.

“I don't think that'll cut it.” He said. She furrowed her brows. Then an idea hit her. She dug around a little more.

“This! Look, I found this!” She said. She held up a thin, silver chain. Vito looked surprised.

“Wow,” he grabbed the chain and inspected it. It was silver, all right. Not very much, but still rare in Axion. It was produced mostly in Little Earth. He scoffed. “That'll do, let's go!” He said. She squeaked and ran back on shore. 

“Hey, shoes!” He yelled. 

“Oh,” she turned back and ran to her shoes, putting them on and waiting impatiently for Vito to do the same. Sometimes it was hard to see her so happy. It made him happy, but sometimes she looked unbearably like his sister. He grabbed her hand again, and they strutted up to the street, making their way to the shop.

The second shop was a thrift shop of sorts. Trade was how people got anything other than food. Even housing, you needed to inherit a home, build one, or offer your labor. Sometimes, things people trade end up here. It was full of knick-knacks galore. Silk strand clothing, halon masks, globes, books, jewelry, kitchenware. Anything. It was an unorganized shop, with stacks of things everywhere, and, as far as Vito knew, it had been open since the founding of Axion. Anything old or new, you had a chance to find it here. 

Jean Rue loved it. It was her favorite store. She treated it like a little treasure hunt. She also liked a good barter, which the shopkeep, Billy, did with glee. He loved it when we came in. I think it made his day to have someone to talk to, both of whom were excited to see him, too.

“Heyyyyyyy, Billy,” Vito said, yelling out the greeting. He allowed Jean to run in after him. Off she went to explore the aisles of junk. 

“Heyyyyyy, Vito! How ya doin'?” He asked. They were pals, if Vito was being honest. 

“Good, good. She actually found something good for you today.”

“Oh? A geode?” He asked. She had brought in a few of those. Vito was shocked the first time when she traded it for an iron pot. She didn't need a pot; she just wanted it. He had no idea what a geode was; he just thought it was a large, round rock. Billy used a chain-cutter of some kind and opened it in front of them. Inside were brilliant blue crystals surrounded by a white layer of glistening sand. Jean ended up trading the pot back to keep the geode. 

“A chain. Silver.”

“Ooh! Haven't gotten silver in a while. I've been waiting for her to get something good. I've got something…” Billy went to the back, behind a door where Vito could only imagine more stuff. He came back with an instrument in hand.

“This had been in this store for… Geez, who knows? It was here when I got here,” he offered it up for Vito to look at. It was gorgeous. Shadewood, that had a dark-blue hue. It had Aspen Silk strings. He would never need to change the strings; aspen silk was that strong. He strummed one. It made a deep metallic noise that reverberated through his chest. 

Suddenly, he smelled the pine. He was flying and exhausted. He looked down and saw his father, his head hanging limp. He looked up to his sister. Stoic. 

“Whoa, hey!” Billy said, coming around the counter, grabbing the guitar from Vito, and setting it down. “You alright?” He asked with concern. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. It's a great instrument. Are you sure you want to give it up?” Vito asked, changing the conversation.

“Y- yeah. Hey, you sure you're okay?”

“Yes, please, Bill, I'd rather not talk about it.” 

“Alright, okay. But look, it's Billy, not Bill,” he said. Vito snickered. “Rumor has it that it came from a girl in love. She traded it for a ring… Ah, let me think. A helionite ring, with a moonstone inlay. Very nice, and a good trade. She had someone at the shop engrave it. Don't know what it said.”

“Why would you give it to us?”

“It’s been here too long. An instrument is supposed to breathe. I said I would learn, but I haven't. I guess I've been waiting for someone to give it to.” Billy said, smiling. Vito smiled back. 

“Oh, here she comes. Make her work for it,” Vito whispered. Billy nodded his head. She came around the corner, clomping one foot in front of the other loudly. She must not have found anything. Val used to stomp like that when she was upset. She went up to the counter and drummed her fingers on it. 

“What 'd'ya got for me?” She asked Billy. 

“Me? I've got a whole store! What do you have for me?” He asked back. She pursed her lips but decided this was a reasonable ask. She pulled the chain out of her pocket and slammed it on the counter dramatically. 

“Huh,” Billy picked it up to examine it. “Fake.”

“Fake?!” Vito and Jean said at the same time. Billy laughed. 

“I didn't think I'd get both of you!” He said. Jean gave him an annoyed look. “Alright, take a look at this.” He pulled out the guitar and set it on the counter. 

“Woooww,” she said, despite not being able to see it. She was shorter than the counter. Vito smiled and pulled it down for her to see. She gently strummed the strings and giggled at the sound they made. Suddenly, she got very serious again.

“What 'd'ya want for it?” She asked.

“I'll take the chain, but I'll need something else,” he said. She thought it over and pulled out the rocks from her pocket again, picking what Vito assumed were the best ones. She slammed those on the counter, too. Billy picked them up and pretended to look them over. 

“You drive a hard bargain… But you've got a deal!”

They left the shop hand in hand, Vito carrying the guitar for Jean. 

“I didn't even give him my best rock!” She declared.