The mist lay thick and muggy, weaving between our dirt-streaked ankles as we scrambled the rocky hillside.

"Zansi, you're too high." A squeaky, peeved voice echoed through the still air. "I'll tell Papa. You're not supposed to fly without his permission."

I ignored him. Besides, I wasn't flying, not yet anyway.

"Zansi!'

A stone skittered off the rock at my right hand. I swirled and barred my teeth at the mahogany haired child clinging to the rocks beneath me. His dirt specked cheeks puffing as a wicked grin split his face. One missing tooth and rich, golden eyes that sparked with mischief ruined any chances he had of appearing anywhere near threatening.

"You scared, sprout?" I leaned back, unfurling my wings wide for balance. "To high for the little baby?"

"No."

"Lair."

"Zansi."

I gave a bored growl. "Fine, I'll come down. You're such a spoil sport Zayde."

"Papa said-."

"Do you always do everything father says?" I inspected a nail, wings still flared and testing the down draught. My little brother pouted. Actually pouted - like a female! I rolled my eyes and laughed, infuriating him further.

Just beyond the reach of my vision I saw light. The crest of the sun. I almost felt its heat, almost felt its caress on my young wings. They were tough enough now for flight, all the baby silk and stretchy sinew replaced with bold, smooth, black-as-night Illyrian wings. I'd been practising for years in preparation for the days when I could do this for real, on my own, no escorts, and no talk of respectable behaviour.

A few more steps, that's all it was. In a few metres I'd clear the rocky incline and take that brief, euphoric step of freedom. I wouldn't go far. Probably just dive. But it would be glorious, and just enough to satisfy my desires. Well...for a little while at least.

"Zansi, pleeeease," Zayde whined. His pudgy hand wrapped around my ankle and yanked.

My foot slipped back. I spun on him again, eyes wide.

"Uh Oh." I shrugged.

"What?" He yelped, hand whipping back in panic.

"I've lost my balance now."

"Zansi . . . nooo."

Zayde yowled as I ripped back from the rocks and tumbled. My fingers curling into his shirt as I dragged him with me, squishing him against my belly as we hurtled for the ground. I roared with laughter.

Zayde roared in fury. Maybe. a little bit of fear too.

It took seconds before I twisted and gave my wings a few mighty pumps. The motion turned us right way up in time to land. Two bouncy strides later and our feet hit the dirt. I dumped Zayde out of my arms, sniggering as he thumped to his knees and punched the ground.

"You didn't lose your balance," he accused, and swirled to jab a finger at me. "You did that on purpose."

"So what if I did." I dusted off dirt from the apex of my right wing. "Don't pretend you didn't love it, sprout."

"I'm not pretending." Zayde struggled to his feet, his own youngling wings fraying wide in anger. "Papa said I can't go to the war camp with roughed up wings. I'll only look weak."

"What has your puny wings got to do with my flying?" I snorted and strolled past him, outstretching my hand for him to take. "And, personally, I think turning up to father's camp roughed up and bruised would be an excellent way of scaring off the competition."

Zayde snapped up my hand and used his other to shove my hip. I giggled when the move didn't so much as make me sway. He belted my side again, face screwed up in concentration.

"You hit like a baby female," I said and caught his curled  fist. "And you'll shatter your hand punching like that." I tutted and shoved him in front, kneeling to his height. "Here...like this."

Zayde's brows smashed together as I demonstrated where to tuck his thumb and how to hook a good swing, then a solid jab. He copied my movements a few times. A grin lighted his features when he registered the strength and precision of those little amendments.

"Much better," I crooned, and gave his nose a gentle tap. "You'll do fine, sprout."

"You really think so?" Zayde looked to me then, his pretty eyes darkening in anxiety. "What if they don't like me?"

"They won't like you," I reminded him with a scoff. "Our father is too important. As far they're concerned your top of the hit list."

I ignored the look of pure terror that flitted briefly across his features. Fear should never be encouraged, especially not in the males, but something twisted my heart. Maybe it was his dirt specked cheeks, or that stupid, toothless smile, or the way he'd been my shadow since he was old enough to crawl, but I relented. I held out my arms, gripped his shoulders in my palms, and looked him dead in the eye.

"You are tough. You are brave." I flexed my fingers tight around his tiny shoulders. "You were born for this. Made for this . . . you understand me?" A resolute nod was his response. "Fear is just a feeling, your mind is stronger than that, you're above feelings. You got it?" Another nod. I gave him a damn hard shake. "Do. You. Hear. Me?"

"Yes." Zayde muttered and I shoved until he staggered back a few feet.

"I can't hear you?" I snarled and lunged for him, wings tucked tight and fists raised.

"Yes!" He balled back, and sprung for me.

He parried my punch with his crossed forearms, grunting with the effort. I pulled back, eyebrow quirked, then dove again. He jumped sideways, narrowly missing my kick to knock him off balance. Using my vulnerable lower stance, he flung out his arm ready to strike my throat. I caught him though. Caught him and twisted up his arm until he yelped.

"Easy sprout," I said, releasing his forearm and used the pad of my foot to kick him to the ground. "I'm still your big sister."

Zayde sprawled across the dirt in a swearing, snarling mess. I huffed out a laugh at his livid expression as he barrelled for me again. This time I let him wrestle me to the ground, cackling breathlessly as he swung a flurry of useless punches over my head.

"Save your energy for the camp," I said and slapped his fists out of the way before sitting up on my elbows. "A few moves like that and those little whelps will be running home to their mother's."

"Yeah," Zayde gave a gruff giggle and slapped his fist against his palm. "I'm gonna make them cry like babies."

"That's my sprout." I winked and hi-fived him. He sat for a minute, both of us grinning at each other, before I watched that smile falter. I tilted my head.

"I'll miss you Zansi." He let out a loud sigh and slumped. "I wish you could come too."

"What? A female in a war camp?" I brayed at the very thought. "I wouldn't last five minutes. They'd clip my wings and toss me to the older males to do whatever they fancied."

"I wouldn't let them," Zayde spat, a white, hot spark of anger blaring in his gentle eyes. "I'd make them treat you good, proper like. And besides, I bet you're a better fighter than most of them."

I clasped my little brothers face in one hand. "Thanks for that, sprout, but it's not right for a female to go to a war camp. Besides, someone has to stick around here and look after mother. Keep bandits and all sorts of devils from our door, right?"

"I guess." His shoulders continued to sag. "But I'll still miss you."

"I'll miss you too," I replied. And before I could say another word he launched into my arms and hugged me so tight it hurt to breathe.

I wrangled my arms around his little body, ducking my face into his silken hair. I breathed in his earthy scent, memorised his quick heartbeat, and his sturdy form. I tried to reassure myself that he was strong, and fast, and ready for this, but he was leaving. My shadow would be gone before the sun sank below the horizon. He'd go away to the war camps, he'd go away and be so changed that by the time we met again the softness in his eyes would  be long gone.

It was only a foolish hope to think he might still be my sprout underneath the brutality of our culture. I could only trust that some part of him would remember to be kind to others lesser than him, kind to females. It was a prayer that I had faith in, or at least it comforted me, that somehow our sibling bond would colour his view, even into maturity.

I'd miss him, but what other life was there for a female? No, this was my lot. The sun, the moon, and the stars always just a hairbreadth from my grasp. Freedom always just that little out of reach. Purpose, a foreign land I was forbidden to find.

But I could dream.

I tucked a stray lick of Zayde's hair behind his ear and gave his brow a swift kiss. He peeked up at me, not dissimilar to the way he did as a baby, and waited for me to speak.

"We still live under the same sky, sprout." I pointed upward. "If you miss me too much, just look up, and I promise somewhere I'll be looking back."

"You promise?" He curled a fist around my tunic.

"Promise."

"Double promise?"

"Triple promise." I grinned and snuggled my cheek against his crown. "Don't forget me, sprout."

"Never, ever," He whispered back.

I believed him.

**********************************************

Author Note:

First attempt at a 'Court of Thorns and Roses' fanfic. Found the books just after Christmas and pretty much devoured them whole. So I now have an unhealthy obsession with the idea of the Illyrian culture, and thus this story was born.

It exists on the outside of the main events of the series, weaving between them as plot dictates, and my aim is an eventual AzrielXOC romance-ish. 'Cause gosh darn it that poor honey needs to catch a break with the ladies. He has about as much luck as I do.

Anyhoo...well I'm excited. Don't send Cassian after me with a baseball bat if I make a few errors...I'm new...be merciful.

Well, gotta go scheme some more.

You know the drill...R&R and I swear I'll purr.

Laterz.

Oh and...This is a work of fiction no copyright intended. Any recognisable characters are the property of the original author, the rest is mine, yada yada. You steal and I'll rip your spleen through your nose with a thought. We cool? Great!

Media: Lindsey Stirling's cover of Green Day's Boulevard of Broken Dreams.