Star- Wings

“Now,” he said from behind, walking far too slowly for her tastes, “I’m supposed to speak to you of the ritual importance of the first transformation.”

“I know the importance!” she exclaimed, spinning to walk backward. “I will be able to fly.”

“We live dual lives,” he said. “And there is a reason we spend thirty years in human form before reaching the age of transformation. This is Adonalsium’s wisdom.”

“Yes, yes,” she said, spinning again as they reached the end of the hallway—and the grand balcony doors. “We live half our lives as humans so we know what it is like to be small. We live the lives of mortals before we gain the life of a dragon. That way, we’ll understand.”

“Do you?” he said, resting his hand on her shoulder as she stood before the closed doors, which were made of yellow stained glass. She thought…she could see light on the other side, from the horizon.

She was so eager, but he’d taught her to be honest, always.

“No,” she admitted. “I try, but I…don’t understand mortals. They live such hurried lives, and they are so fragile, but they don’t seem to care. I try, but I don’t understand.”

“Yes. With our powers, even as dragonets, empathy is difficult.”

“Will that ruin me?” she asked softly. She’d worried about this. “Because I don’t understand? Will it stop me from flying?”

“You can never be ruined, child,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Never, ever. You can learn better, and you will as you grow. Knowing that fact is how it happens! Ignorance will not hold back the transformation.” He leaned back. “Sometimes, contrast is important to help us learn.”

He shoved the doors open, revealing a horizon that had begun to blaze with predawn. The grand balcony was large enough to hold them in their draconic forms. It was one of the launchpads to the upper palace, which was built on a different scale—for people who were the size of buildings.

She stepped out onto the balcony, suddenly worried. What if it didn’t happen to her? What if she was broken? Everyone put so much stock in her being leucistic—which was a cousin, but not exactly the same, as being albino like a human. She was more like a white tiger, she’d been told. A symbol of two worlds. But some said with every great sign came misfortune, as proven by what had happened to her parents…

“You are,” Frost said, “so wonderful, Illistandrista. I am honored to be here, with you, on this most important of days.”

He left unsaid that he wished her parents were the ones here. That was not to be. She took a deep breath, and held out her hands to her sides.

First dawn struck her, and she absorbed the light. It became part of her, and the self that had been hidden within Starling these thirty years emerged, glorious and radiant. With wings, and dragonsteel of pure silver, and scales a glittering white—faintly iridescent.

With the transformation, Starling—finally—felt that she belonged.

Isles of the Emberdark Prolouge