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“I HATE FLYING,” I GRUMBLED as I stood up on wobbly legs, the turbulence not agreeing with me as my adopted sister, Mary scooted by me, back from the bathroom. She let out a low laugh that sounded like bells ringing as she patted me on my shaky shoulder. I hadn’t puked yet, but it was on its way. I could feel it as my stomach coiled in on itself.
“Aella, you’re a Dragon. How can you hate to fly, isn’t it, like, ingrained into your very being?” She fussed with her long curly red hair, tying it back into a ponytail as she looked over at me with her pale blue eyes. The look on her face telling me that I was, indeed, a nice shade of green. “Here.” She handed me a barf bag, which as soon as I sat I made quick use of.
“Ugh, By the Gods, I hope I never come into my wings,” I gasped as the last bits of my breakfast expelled themselves rather loudly. A woman across from us turned up her nose as I looked around, embarrassed.
“Not a good flyer,” Mary quipped as I rolled the top of the bag closed. Gods, this was awful, and we had only been in the air for like three hours and since this was a non-stop flight, it meant there were at least four more to go. I put the bag down between my feet and rubbed my tummy. Mary handed me a stick of gum and I stuffed it into my mouth, chewed it a moment, then spat it and the foul taste from my expulsion out into another bag.
“Gimmie another one. No, make it two,” I demanded, holding out my hand, then I drew it back, realizing my scales were showing.
“Fuck,” I mouthed quietly as I tried to rub them back, the black, purple and gold scales rough against my hand. Fortunately, from a distance they looked like a huge bruise, but that didn’t stop Mary from scolding me for my anxiety bristling.
“You really need to get that under control. Next thing I know you’ll be blowing smoke.”
“Doubtful, as I spit acid, not fire,” I muttered as the scales receded, my manicure going back to its purple hue.
“I forget, when did you figure that out?” She chuckled, mimicking the dance our brother Enrich had done the day I had sneezed and accidentally spit, nearly melting his shoes right to his feet.
“I’m just glad he has the reflexes of a cat.” I nudged her hard to make her stop.
“Oh, come on. I got you laughing and not thinking about puking didn’t I?”
“Yeah, yeah, but it’s still at my expense so it’s not that funny.” I rubbed my back against the seat, my shoulders itching furiously. “Aghh, damn it. Psycho itch.” I reached around behind me trying to scratch but couldn’t reach. “Mary, scratch my back, please!” I begged, turning toward her and ripping at my blouse.
She reached out, giving me a hard rub against my shoulder blades and I let out a blissful sigh leaning toward her.
“Uh, Aella?” She pulled back her hand suddenly, then clamped them hard on my back. “You better head for the loo, and quick.”
“What? Why?” I tried to turn around as a searing pain started in my shoulders. It felt like my skin was ripping open.
“You’ve got blood on your back!” She whispered urgently, pushing me up out of my seat. I tried to argue with her as she led me to the bathroom and shoved us inside.
“What the fuck, Mary?” I screeched as I tried desperately to rip off my shirt. She grabbed it too, pulling it over my head. As I flexed my back, a loud crashing was followed by my anguished cry as the already too small bathroom was flooded by the expanse of my wings.
“Shit!” Mary turned to the side, trying to avoid the razor sharp edge to them as I twisted, trying to keep them behind me. I had no control and she yelped as I nicked her arm.
“I’m sorry! I don’t know what to do!’ I pushed myself hard against the bathroom door, pinning my wings flat to the wall. Her arm was bleeding pretty badly as I looked at her and she started to cry. What had I done? My little sister was hurt and there was nothing I could do to ease her pain.
“You gotta calm down to start.” She gritted her teeth, holding her arm tightly. “Remember when Adrian came into his? He freaked out and damn near burnt down the ice cream shop in town. You gotta get ahold of it.” Mary looked around, her eyes settling above my head. “Gimmie the first aid kit there, I can fix my arm while you try and wrangle all of that.” She made a circular motion around me. I turned to see what she was looking at and almost cut her again.
“Watch those things!” She shouted as a hard knock came to the bathroom door, reverberating through my wings. The sensation was so jarring that I lurched forward, throwing up all over Mary.
“Are you fucking kidding me!”
I let out a little laugh. “Sorry.”
“Ladies, only one in the bathroom at a time,” the flight attendant called through the door.
“Ugh.” Mary took my shirt, using it to wipe the puke off her face and chest as she responded to the woman through the door. “Yeah, sorry, but my sister is really sick, we’ll be as fast as can be.” She screwed on her smile to sound kind although she was staring daggers at me.
“If it’s any consolation, I think that is the last time I’m gonna puke.” I smiled sheepishly, wiping my mouth.
“Just don’t breathe on me, okay?” She climbed up onto the sink and got the first aid kit down. Dropping the toilet seat, she opened the kit and grabbed some gauze and the antiseptic. I frowned, leaning back into the door as I watched her clean herself up.
My breathing was beginning to level off and I could feel my back contract, my wings twitching. I rolled my shoulders, I could hear them as they slid back into place, under my skin, an elastic sort of squishing that rang in my ears. I felt like I was stuffing myself into a too tight pair of jeans, my breathing thin, with lots of pressure down into my core.
Mary looked up at me from the sink as she washed the puke off of her T-shirt. “That’s better, now let me by cuz you have no shirt to wear. I gotta get into my carry on and grab you something.” She pushed by me, shoving me back into the sink with a huff, letting the door slam shut behind her.
I leaned against the edge of the sink, turning my head, trying to see my back. It was covered in blood but otherwise normal looking. The bones were where they should be, my spine was still straight as an arrow. I touched the base of my neck and with a tapping of my fingers, my lance appeared and I pulled it free. Most of us, Dragonborn I mean, carry a sword. It’s attached to our immortality. But every so often, a woman is born with the lance, it gives us the advantage of being able to wield it in our Dragon form and makes us more formidable fighters. I had just come into my wings. Mary witnessed it so there was no denying it now, but my weapon. They didn’t know that it had come to the surface. I’d been hiding it for over a year now. It was just too soon. I wasn’t ready to swear fealty to the Fey or anyone else, and at the rate I was going, I may never be.