-♢- "Bro-ther!" A voice calls to me from inside of our stone farmhouse. I can hear it from the fields, as I walk along, inspecting the hundreds of crops that stretch up, basking in the warmth of the new sun that never seems to stop shining. There are faint whistles of birds in the distance, from the dark acre woods that press around our property as far as I could possibly see. If I look past the broken down shacks, the small patches of empty dirt that we never bothered to fill in, the trampled grass that shows our footsteps; it almost looks picturesque. The feminine voice cries out my name, waiting for a reply. It belongs to Aedre, my sister. She's the girl I Iove most in the world, but also the person that causes me the most pain, of course. I think siblings always do. Ever since our mother left to go trade food at Symet, the only city in our land, the house has been eerily empty, since I'm out in the fields most of the time. Trying to live up to my father's legacy. Though I can't, of course. Of course I can't. "Come on, you've got to see this!" She squeals. Knowing Aedre, it'll probably be a bug crawling on a leaf, or a new flower, or perhaps both. She seems to find the beauty in everything. I just wish that she could be optimistic a little quieter. "Wings!" The cry is strange; different than usual; but I don't particularly mind. I've reached the turn in the field, where the crops gradually grow weaker, and weaker, until suddenly the golden rays of sunlight only shine onto empty rows. When my father still lived around here, these quiet, untended to patches were the pride of our farm. Now they are the worst in the entire industry. I turn towards the house. I don't like staring at those spots. It only reminds me of how much I have to do. I don't go to school, like some kids do at my age, almost sixteen. I haven't kept my age very well. My family doesn't have the time for that. Neither do I hang out in groups with the other teenagers. I stay here and work. I have to; my sister is too young, and my mother is too busy with the animals to tend to the fields. So I walk her on my own, solitary but contented. It's better that way. "I see feathers!" The voice is more urgent, a blossoming squeal in the quiet of the farm. I start to walk towards the house. There's more noises coming, too. Crashes and bangs and more shrieks. I quicken my pace. I walk through the door calmly, expecting to see Aedre bent over her dollhouse, shaking one of the figurines in the air as if it was flying. But she isn't. Instead, she's standing on the oak table, palms spread up to face the ceiling, her irises a sparkling green that is far more electric than before. And, on her back, sits a pair of dove-white wings, flapping urgently. Aedre smiles at me, her new wings making a few impatient flaps, as if they were desperate to soar away. "Look, brother. Wings." -♢- Hope you like this! This is set in the land in my book, Symet, (sea-meet) and it's centered around Quinoa and his sister, Aedre. This isn't actually about any of the characters in my novel; it's just a way for me to get more comfortable writing in that environment.
