Branwyn sits with one leg crossed over the other. She folds her wings over her lap.
“Am ready.”
Who are your parents? asks the man with many questions.
“Mother killed father. Other Mother killed Mother.”
She thinks of the party that fought her mother and sister. There was the kitsune (Kitty?) with Batos the wolf. There was Alin the sneaky one. There was Cadell who named her. Mauve the funny witch. There was the tiny winged Nissa, who took Other Mother away.
“Other Mother earn wings.”
The teenage harpy melts into inconsolable tears. The man with many questions asks none.
TWO MONTHS LATER
The man with many questions wishes Branwyn a happy birthday. Her true birthday is unknown, but is celebrated on the first day of spring.
She is thirteen. It has been nine years since her rescue. It has been two years since Baldhart, her Other Mother, died at the age of thirty. The harpy’s own lifespan will not be much longer.
See Other Mother again. Not rush this.
The man with many questions asks what life Branwyn might lead.
“I help.”
Several follow-up questions lead to several short answers.
“Not become mother.
“Not sing. Sing lead to become mother. Become mother lead to become cannibal. Cannibalism bad.”
“Eat what Mother give. Is meat. Not know is bad. Not know…” She remembers the doll. It could have come from a father who had a gift for a little girl he never survived the trip home to. Or it could have been…
The harpy melts into tears again. She does not want to answer the repeated question, are you okay?
The question is dumb.
ONE YEAR LATER
Branwyn has been training hard. Training made her become strong. Training made her become at peace. The man with no further questions wishes Branwyn a happy birthday.
She answers the unasked: “Am ready to serve Sister Cinder. Am natural huntress. I kick hard.
“Other Mother earn wings three years ago. I honor her. Am born with wings but earn them anyway.
“I help.”
