Chapter Text
Wind swept through long, brown, plaited hair and colorful clothing. Wings similar to a barn owl’s beat against the air, propelling a lean, muscular body through the air. Delighted laughter bubbled up from the body’s chest as a voice sounded from a separate, nearing body.
“Icarus! We should be getting back home, it’s almost sunset and you need to get up early tomorrow morning!”
“In a bit, first, the sunset.” The winged boy landed on a wood platform that overlooked the canopy, staring at the horizon. This marked the end of the first month of Icarus ‘s sixteenth year of living. That meant only one year and eleven months more until he could step into the role he’d been waiting for since he could form coherent thoughts.
The older harpy followed with a fond but exasperated sigh. “Mom and dad said to be home before sunset.” The two brothers looked remarkably similar, though the older one had more muscle mass, a very light dusting of freckles, hazel eyes and generally kept his hair in a low bun. Icarus on the other hand was shorter and more lean and agile, his freckles peppered his cheeks and covered the rest of his body like constellations, his eyes were light brown and usually framed by round reading glasses. Icarus sometimes wished he was more like his brother, tall and intimidating, he liked the maneuverability that came with his smaller frame but he envied his brother’s sheer strength.
The younger harpy hummed and chirped, turning his attention to the heavens, captivated by the colorful sky. All harpies loved the sky, to lose the sky was to lose reason to live but to Icarus the sky was even more than that. It was a canvas, it was freedom and it was life. To say he loved it would be a gross understatement.
Icarus longed to spend every single moment in flight, away from everything else but knew he never would. He loved his kingdom too much, he couldn’t bear to leave it, even for the sky. He would miss the music, the dancing, the festivals, the people. He’d miss his parents, his brother, the open air markets and the trees that made up their forest and held up their homes, the trees that were endangered by the war.
As the sun dipped under the horizon and the colorful sky faded to navy, Icarus turned to smile at his brother. “We can go home now.” The boy didn’t really want to go back but he knew he had to. It was what would be best for his people and what would probably turn out best for him and his brother. Tomorrow was an important day, a day Icarus was ready for, a day he definitely needed a full night’s rest for.
Caspian rolled his eyes without any actual annoyance, “Mhm, just in time for mom and dad to get mad at me.”
“They won’t be mad at you, we’ll be back almost pretty much when they wanted us.” A mischievous grin spread across his face.
Caspian snorted and dryly remarked, “Yeah. Almost pretty much.”
The younger knew that his older brother was only pretending to be annoyed. Caspian wasn’t actually worried about getting in trouble, he just wanted to make sure Icarus was safe. That was his job after all, to keep the crowned prince safe, not that Icarus needed it. He was perfectly capable, like most harpies he had trained from the moment he could walk, first in self defense then in combat. Still, his brother worried and Icarus appreciated not having to watch his back all the time. This way he could focus on more important things, like ways to help improve his kingdom.
The brothers spread their wings and took off in tandem, angling their wings to ride the wind, both relishing in the sensation of being aloft. No matter how many times a harpy flew, it would never get old. Icarus soared ahead and Caspian sort of kept up. Out of the two of them, Icarus was faster but Caspian could fly longer distances.
While winging their way back to their treehouse, the crowned prince zoned out, preoccupied with possible strategies to help on the path to winning the war, changes to laws and festivals to raise the kingdom’s spirits. His head was constantly swimming with plans and possible obstacles that though he wasn’t yet king, he certainly could be mistaken for one. He carried himself with a confidence that put people at ease and when he spoke you couldn’t help but listen. He was a harpy of the people, going out of his way to know his future subjects and meet their needs. Nothing, not even the sky, took precedence over the people, at least, to Icarus.
The avians soundlessly landed on the deck of a large treehouse. While it was certainly a luxurious treehouse, it was very much similar in quality to any treehouse belonging to a civilian you may find in their territory, the main difference being the size. The treehouse belonging to the royal family was quite large to accommodate meeting halls, public libraries, training facilities and quest quarters for visiting diplomats. Resources were first spent making sure everyone had what they needed and were then spent on the royal “palace”.
Footsteps quietly broke the silence as the two bird people accompanied each other to their respective rooms. Caspian’s earlier concern that they might get scolded by their parents was proven in vain seeing as they made it without running into the king and queen. They were probably preparing for tomorrow. There were lots of tasks to be done in order for everything to be ready and although the preparations had been started months ago, it made sense for work to still be in progress until the very last moment. It was hopefully going to be the day the war ended.
Icarus opened his bedroom door after waving goodnight to his brother whose room was across the hall. His room was well lived in, papers covered in hastily written notes and doodles were strewn across the space. Books and scrolls were crammed onto most available surfaces. Ink wells and bits of charcoal for drawing were in little groups scattered around the desk and floor. Some of the ink wells had spilled, leaving ink stains. Under all of this clutter, though you could hardly see them, there were several rugs covering the floors. In one corner some drums sat with a flute hanging from a hook over them. Not too far from the flute hung a bow and a quiver of arrows. A pair of daggers lay on the floor under the bow. In any little nook and cranny that wasn’t occupied by the aforementioned clutter housed little nick-nacks that Icarus had collected, including but not excluded to interesting twigs, shiny rocks, marbles and jewelry.
He changed into a loose fitting shirt and pants, both undyed cotton, and nestled into his bed. His bed consisted of a large, circular cushion and several smaller cushions, blankets and furs, all arranged in a way that closely resembled a nest. The furs were either from animals he had caught or of though gifted to him by his family and friends. Closing his eyes curling his tail around himself, Icarus drifted off into a deep sleep.