Learning To Fly Without Wings
Written by: Melody Hewson
Copyright Melody Hewson 2013
“Taiyra.” Hearing her name called, Taiyra looked up to see one of the elders standing over her, his shadow stretching out behind him. He wore a long, loose robe and leaned heavily on a gnarled wooden stave that served as a walking stick. “Come.” He said once he had her attention, then turned and began to walk away.
Taiyra dropped the twig she had been using to draw patterns in the soil and scrambled to her feet to follow after him. The elder was slow and sometimes had to stop to catch his breath, but he asked for no assistance, so the young doe offered none and stayed respectfully at his side or behind him as they made their way to his tent.
Despite her outward patience, inside Taiyra was bubbling over with excitement and curiosity. She had been learning the ways of the druids since she had come to live with her grandmother, also an elder, and she had eagerly taken to her lessons. There was not a plant in all the valley that she could not identify. There was not a bit of lore she could not recite from memory. She even had ready the seeds that would grow into her very own life-vine when she was finally accepted as a healer. But she had not yet learned to change her form.
Shape shifting was a gift granted to the druids long before the Great War and the coming of the humans, or so said the lore she had been taught. Taiyra had waited eagerly for her chance to learn, and had long ago chosen her forms. Her thoughts were still racing as they finally reached the elder's tent and he had to call her name twice before she was able to calm them enough to pay attention again.
“Taiyra!” He said a third time. “Wake up lotha degahr.” Little dreamer. Taiyra knew the old tongue, but rarely heard it spoken. It had been part of her studies to learn it.
“I'm sorry, Elder Swiftclaw.” The young doe replied, bowing her head. “It won't happen again, I promise. Usually I pay better attention, it's just that I've been studying really hard to be the best healer I can and I really want to learn how to change form and I-” Her words were halted by the gentle pressure of a hand on her shoulder.
Taiyra looked up, her eyes meeting the kind dark brown ones of the elder bull. “Be at ease, young one. I do not have many years left in me, and you will be my final pupil. Let's not waste what time is left to us.” The doe nodded solemnly, her tail tucking shyly between her legs. “Do you know the tale of how we came to have the ability to take the form of other creatures? Come, let us sit, then tell me what you know.”
Taiyra followed the elder to a pair of large pillows, settling and waiting for the much slower elder to do the same. When he finally gave her a nod, she cleared her throat and began to recite the legend she had learned. “Long ago, when the world and the tarous were both still young, there was a young bull named Adahapi Windseeker. Adahapi was a wise and gentle leader of his tribe, for in those young days we still needed leaders to help us make decisions. He led his tribe well and was prosperous, but he was struck with grief when his loyal mate died in child birth.
“Unable to deal with her loss, Adahapi left his tribe to mourn and fled into the wilderness. When it began to rain, he sought shelter from the storm in a cave, but the cave was occupied by a mother manicora that had just lost her cubs. At first Adahapi was afraid the manicora would attack him, but he soon recognized the same grief in her that he felt in himself. He reached out to comfort the ailing beast and in return was comforted.
“When the rain passed, Adahapi decided to stay with the manicora, and they became friends. In time the grief they shared was replaced by love for each other, but as he was a tarin and she a manicora they could not be lifemates. This saddened Adahapi, who grew more and more determined to find a solution. He began to abandon the ways of his people and began to act more like a manicora. He began to walk on all fours, to eat raw meat, and to roar.”
“At first he felt himself to be a fool, did he not?” The elder interrupted, chuckling softly. “And no doubt he looked the fool, awkwardly walking on hands and hooves, trying to find a grace not meant for his body.”
“Yes, Elder Swiftclaw. At first he felt very foolish indeed, and the meat made him feel ill, for the tarous are not carnivorous by nature.” Taiyra agreed. “But as time passed, he began to change. The more he began to understand the manicora and how they moved and lived, the better he could imitate one and the more his mind began to believe he was a manicora. The story does not say when his body changed as well, but he and the mother became lifemates and lived many years together, but the mother aged more quickly than Adahapi, for tarous have always been long lived, and soon she was too old to hunt.
“Adahapi tried his best to provide for her, but with her age also came illness and she stopped eating. In desperation to save her, Adahapi returned to the village he had long ago fled from, but his people could not understand his growls and were frightened by his roars. In frustration, he changed back to his long abandoned true form, surprising his people. In exchange for healing and helping him care for his mate, Adahapi agreed to teach his people how to change forms like he had.
“And so it was that Adahapi and the mother came to live among the tribe, where they were fed and kept healthy by the healers, and true to his word, Adahapi taught the tribe how to change their forms. This knowledge was soon passed to all of the tarous tribes, but the knowledge was almost lost after the Great War. To keep the secret from the humans, who would surely abuse it, it was decided that only the druids, who are the closest to the natures of all things living, would be taught how to change their forms, and only those worthy of the knowledge would receive it.”
The elder nodded and smiled slightly. “Very good, Taiyra. I am glad you know the tale. Do you understand its meaning?”
“I... I think so.” Taiyra said hesitantly. “In order to change, we have to embrace the nature of the beast and change ourselves to fit it, not try to change the beast's nature to suit ourselves?”
“Very good, young one.” Elder Swiftclaw replied, giving another nod. “And you must care for the creatures whose form you wish to borrow. But you should never abandon yourself to become the beast. There are those who forget themselves when they take other forms, either to escape something unpleasant or because they feel that life would be better as a beast. They often become lost to us forever, and so also is lost the wisdom they could have shared.”
“I understand, Elder Swiftclaw.” Taiyra said softly. “I understand that the way of a druid and a tarin is to find a balance in all things. We are connected to all things, and all things are connected to each other.”
Again the elder nodded and smiled at his young pupil. “As long as you remember these teachings and keep them close in your heart, I think you are ready to learn what I have to teach you.” The elder bowed his head again and was silent. The seconds passed by in this expectant silence and Taiyra was afraid the old bull had fallen asleep on her. She was just about to say something when he looked back up at her, his glare intense, his deep brown eyes now the bright gold of an eagle. “She is coming now to meet you.” He said softly before closing his eyes. When he opened them again, they were back to normal.
“Um, who is coming, Elder Swiftclaw?” The young doe asked shyly. She looked around the spacious tent, her eyes briefly alighting on the familiar objects surrounding her; a bedroll, a rack of drying herbs, a small collection of empty glass jars, a few decorative trinkets, and another crooked staff, although this one was supported by a base that allowed it to stand upright.
“Blackwing.” He said simply, turning his attention to the open entrance way to the tent. The piercing cry an eagle preceded the black blur that entered the tent and flashed past the pair of tarous before settling on the uprigh
t staff and emitting another cry. “Ah, Welcome sister.” The elder said jovially.
Taiyra blinked several times before turning her attention to the large black bird that perched calmly on the bent staff, watching them indifferently. “Oh! Hello!” She greeted the bird timidly, turning to face the creature properly. “Are you Blackwing?”
“Indeed she is.” The elder answered instead. “Blackwing is almost as old as I am, and like myself, you will likely be her last student as well. Treat her with nothing but respect and reverence and she will accept you.” Taiyra's mouth fell open slightly as she listened, her eyes widening in awe. “And in return, she will teach you how to fly.”
“Is she a tarous too?” Taiyra