Bird of Feathers: Part (1)
"Wha—what do you mean?" Elias stammered, eyes wide. "Why do you ask?"
Stella tilted her head, half-smirking. "Why are you so shocked, Elly? It's just... you and Ray have this thing. Like you want him to be warm toward you."
Elias looked away, cheeks burning.
"Is it that obvious?" she muttered. "Well… you could say it's one-sided."
Stella blinked in surprise.
Elias lowered her voice. "It all started like this."
---
Umbran Year 987
Elias was only fourteen.
She lived in Damatio, a small city nestled far from the gods' influence. The city was neutral—no blessings, no avatars, no allegiances. Because of this, the gods ignored it, and so did the wars that followed them. It was poor, but peaceful. Its wealth wasn't in coin—but in the hearts of its people.
Damatio was built by those cast aside by the gods. It followed democracy, something rare in this world. The people governed themselves. No one ruled. And for Elias, it was the only place that had ever felt like home.
Her parents died before she could even remember them. She was raised by an old woman—beloved by the entire city—who cared for her and many other orphans like they were her own. To the people of Damatio, that old woman was the city's heart.
But peace never lasts.
One day, the scream of the guards pierced the air.
"War Mongers! They're coming! Hide!"
The streets erupted in panic.
The War Mongers—followers of Covertous, one of the Seven Gods—descended upon Damatio like wolves. Though Covertous ruled the distant city of Vitous, his followers wandered the land, conquering and pillaging without mercy. They were only blessed once—but their thirst for violence and brute strength made them lethal.
Savage. Barbaric. Unstoppable.
That day, they claimed Damatio. In mere hours, sixty percent of the population was wiped out.
"Where are your warriors? Is this all you've got?" one of them laughed, dragging the old woman through the street by her hair.
"You dare build a city without a god to protect you? Cowards!"
The remaining people stood frozen, trembling. The guards were gone—dead or fled. Even Elias shook, teeth clenched in helpless rage.
"If no one fights me," the War Monger barked, gripping the old woman's throat, "I'll kill her. I'll count to ten."
"One."
No one moved.
"Two—"
"STOP!" Elias screamed, stepping forward. Her body trembled, but she forced her feet to move. "I'll fight."
The War Mongers burst into laughter.
"You?" one sneered. "This little thing? Guys, look at her! I'm shaking!"
And then—
The dagger went straight into the old woman's gut.
"NO!!" Elias screamed, catching the old woman as she collapsed. Blood soaked her hands. Her heart shattered.
"That's for being brave," the War Monger cackled.
Tears streaming down her face, Elias grabbed the dagger and lunged—
And in the next second, the War Monger was cut clean in half.
Everyone froze.
Even Elias.
She hadn't done it.
A voice came from behind her.
"I didn't want to get involved, but... messing with her? That's a problem."
Elias turned.
There he stood.
A man. Easily six feet tall. Short black hair, golden eyes like a lion's. He wore a long coat that fluttered in the wind—despite the heat. A presence that felt out of place, as if the world paused to make room for him.
He knelt beside Elias.
"You're not hurt, right?" he said gently, brushing blood off her cheek. "Let me take it from here."
With a flick of his wrist, a sword appeared out of thin air.
The War Mongers tensed.
"He's got a weapon!"
"Get him!"
They charged.
The mysterious man sighed. "Tsk. Barbarians."
And then—he danced.
That's what it looked like to Elias. A dance of blades and blood. Every step was precise. Every swing fatal. The War Mongers didn't stand a chance. Within moments, the street was silent once more.
The man turned and walked back to Elias.
The remaining children—her siblings—ran forward and shielded her with their tiny bodies.
"Don't hurt her!" they shouted together.
The man raised both hands calmly. "Don't worry, kids. I won't." He glanced around at the broken city. "You're safe now. Go home. Ah and… take care of the bodies, alright?"
He turned to Elias again. "I won't hurt you—but I will have to take you with me."
The children clung to her, crying. He explained the kids that he will take her for good and not hurt her. Eventually, an old couple volunteered to take care of them in the old lady's place. They also buried the old lady and those who lost their lifes to the War Mongers.
Finally, it was just the two of them.
"Your siblings are so protective," the man said with a small smile. "By the way, I'm Ray. Just a folk, wandering the world like those War Mongers. Well—maybe not exactly like them."
To Elias, Ray looked like a knight out of a dream. An angel who had come down to save her.
"You're going to take me with you, right?" she asked.
"Uh-huh. Of course. That's why I came."
"You'll marry me, right?"
Ray nearly choked. "What? No! Come on—you're only fourteen!"
And that was how they met. Ray took her under his wing. Back then, only Von and Ray made up the group. The others came later.
And for Elias… that moment defined everything.
---
"Wah, that was amazing. So you're the third person to join the group?" Stella asked, eyes wide with wonder.
"Uh-huh. Yeah," Elias nodded, a soft smile on her lips. "After that day, it was just Ray, Von, and me. Then we went to find Wandy… and then Joseph."
Stella leaned forward, practically bouncing. "Tell me everything. What was it like?"
Elias glanced toward the door. Wandy had just checked outside—still no sign of the others.
"Well… okay. We've got time," Elias said, settling deeper into her seat. "So, after Ray saved Damatio, we wandered through Nethoria. Just the three of us. Ray was searching for something—or someone—but he never really told us what at the time. He just said we needed more."