Read Fledgling: Book 1 (Afterlife) Online
Authors: Katrina Cope
Fledgling: Book 1 (Afterlife)
Copyright
Fledgling
Text Copyright © 2015 by Katrina Cope
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references or suggestions herein to actual historical events, real people or actual locations are fictitious. All names, characterisations, locations, incidents, and fabrications are solely the product of the author’s imagination, and any, and all, resemblance to actual persons alive or dead or locations or events is entirely coincidental.
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DamonZa.com
Published by Katrina Cope
My Guardian Angels
- Prologue -
Breathe
, I tell myself.
Breathe
. I try, and my body does not respond. It simply does not have the energy. The icy hardness from the tiles presses up through my clothes and onto my skin, as I lie on the bathroom floor. Under my head is a sensation of warm liquid. My eyes are open while remaining still, and the visibility is tunnelling as they start to glaze over.
Breathe
, I command my body, and it struggles.
Towering above me, I see a man — he is strong and muscular. His jaw sets in determination and his teeth clench. The wrinkles framing his muddy brown eyes have deepened and run straight, pinched with anger.
I want to move, but I cannot. I can barely hear my heartbeat — and it is fading.
Not again
, my soul screams.
It cannot be happening again. I was only trying to protect my mother.
Images of two similar scenes flash before my eyes. My soul is reminding itself that this has happened before. This is the third life I have lived and the third time that my life has ended. I am only eighteen — the longest life I have lived.
Unwillingly, I watch from my fixed vision as the man raises his olive-skinned arm again. His dark brown hair flicks its short length around with force. He is flinging the ceramic soap dispenser at my head — again, and again, and again, and again. Surely he must know I am already dying.
My vision tunnels to a tiny circle framing the face of my attacker, the man —my father.
- Chapter One -
“Are you ready, Fledgling?” In front of me stands a tall, tanned male. Dark blue pants define his muscular legs, and his olive-skinned torso is bare. He stands with his legs shoulder width apart while holding a firm stance. My eyes drift up his muscle-bound chest. In another world, I may have ogled over how his muscles bulge from his thin form. As my eyes reach his shoulders, they glide up a little more, observing the top edges of his majestic royal blue wings. Although strong, like his physique, they are soft with thick, royal blue feathers. He opens them out to full extension showing off their magnificence and strokes them several times, raising him to hover above the ground. They were a pair he should be proud of — the largest in the training group and reflecting his character.
He chuckles. “Hello,” he says slowly. “Are you ready?”
I glance at his face, and he greets me with a playful grin. From under his dark brown hair, his ocean blue eyes study my expression. Right from day one in our new life, he has seen past my façade, reading my emotions and possibly even my thoughts. His handsome features hold wisdom beyond his human years taking the sharpness from his chiselled looks.
My face turns slightly warm under his gaze. I realise I have been staring. I smirk at him and clear my throat. “Ah, yes. I’m as ready as you are, Fledgling,” I say trying to hide my embarrassment, and I stand ready. Like me, he does not carry an individual name.
Standing face to face, we study each other waiting for the first move. Lowered so that his feet touch the ground, he steps closer and progresses in a circular motion toward me. I step backward so that my front is always facing him while continuing in the circular motion. After a moment, he steps in; his leg reaches out in a roundhouse kick aimed for my head. I dodge it and have my hands ready to block his next move aimed at my leg. I retaliate with a flying back fist to his temple. He narrowly avoids this by stepping slightly aside and blocks my roundhouse millimetres from his stomach.
A slap sounds from the connection of the skin. Pushing my leg aside, he is airborne in the same instant, causing me to dodge a jumping outside crescent kick aimed at my head. I retaliate with a sideways kick to his stomach that he twists to avoid, and I move in for an upper-cut. My hand glides up his facial skin, narrowly missing its target. He had seen it coming again. This time it was close.
He spins around and grabs my wings from over the top, scooping his arms down my back and embracing the full connection where my wings attached my body. I extend them and flap with strong, expansive strokes. I see the golden tips of my feathered wings fold in front of me as I push. The golden-yellow shines in the sun. We rise off the ground while he still grasps me from behind. From his added pressure, the strokes are laboured, but my wings are strong, capable and reliable.
The grassy ground shrinks away as we rise further, and the deep blue ocean expands. Below, I can see the edges of the small tropical island. Palm trees line the edges and frame the sand from the vegetated areas. On the ground are several other colourful winged beings. They are just like us. The island has been our training ground for the last six months.
As I rise, I continue my fight to remove the attached being from behind me, yet he continues to grasp my wings’ attachment. He is in a place that is hard to reach. Further and further we rise. I reach over and grab his hair — it does not faze him. We are not fighting to kill so I do not use the finishing moves, and it makes it harder to remove him from my back.
I look around. The sky is a crisp clear blue. We have risen into the clouds. Beyond this, I can see the mainland of Australia in the distance. In our winged form, we are to keep out of sight of the humans, or there will be consequences.
I stop rising and then tuck in my wings. With my head tilting toward the ground and my body straight, I allow myself to fall. As we descend, the speed increases rapidly, and I twist. Long, dark brown strands of hair paste across my face. I twist hard enough to begin a spin and each turn increases in speed. My hair is now securely wrapped over my eyes blocking all vision past its silky dark strands. I feel additional pressure from his body still trying to grasp the connecting point for my wings. I also feel his body pulling away from mine from the push of gravity. The wind wisps around my ears, and the force is making it hard for him to keep holding on.
With a sudden movement, I untuck my wings. I extend the tips directly behind my back, pointing them in the opposite direction from my face. As soon as I do this, his grip slides down my golden feathers and off the end, projected from the force of the spin. I am free.
Extending my wings out to the side I stop my spin and turn my body, so my head points to the sky. We stopped falling only twenty metres from the ground. I look in the direction of my captor. I watch as he spreads his royal blue wings and applies pressure to the surrounding air, stopping the force sending him further away. As he flies toward me, his face wears a smile.
“That was an impressive tactic,” he congratulates me. “Very effective.”
Before I can answer him, I hear a whoosh of wings from behind. I turn to see the concerned face of my female friend. Her long, golden hair is pushed back from her face as she flies in our direction. Her lemon coloured wings spread wide, framing her yellow, figure-hugging bodysuit.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice sounds panicked. “Are you trying to be seen by the humans? You are not even in your invisible forms.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “No one would have seen us.” I try and reassure her.
“You never know.” She shakes her head and crosses her arms. Her wings flap enough to stay level with us. “They have technology that can see very far these days. Remember, we must remain invisible in this form or else we will face punishment. We have only just graduated. You don’t want to end in the abyss before we even start.” Her face etches with worry.
I lower to the ground, and they follow. The other graduates are training around us, paying us no attention.
“It’s okay, really.” I say. “They wouldn’t have seen us.” I shake my head and turn to my male friend. “Do you think they saw us?”
He shakes his head. “No. Stop worrying, Yellow, we are fine.”
Yellow is not her real name. We have given each other a reference until we receive our proven names, making it easier for us. We only use this within our little group.
Yellow races forward and gives me a hug. “Good,” she says. "I want you to be around when we leave for our first missions.”
I return her hug. “Hey, don’t worry about me. I will be fine,” I whisper in her ear. While pulling away, I add, “You stress way too much.”