Lich's Desire

Chapter 1

Hanna

         “You’re going to earn your wings soon enough.”

Zathex’s words linger tediously in my mind as I make the long walk home. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I huff out a breath as I continue.

“Surely, if you ever need more of my help, you know where to find me…”

         I grimace, remembering the look the xaphan gave me while I gulped down my water. Zathex is supposed to be a mentor, a guide, and perhaps even a friend as I navigate the treacherous journey of earning my wings.

         Soon enough, I will stand tall and proud as white wings extend from my back, elevating my status from mere human to hardworking xaphan. My father won’t have to work as hard anymore. Our family name will be synonymous with wealth, status, and fortune.

         But it won’t be because of that bastard Zathex, that’s for sure.

         As I near the human settlement along the western edge of New Solas, I suck in a deep breath and sigh loudly. Evening draws near.

My father works tirelessly in his greenhouse, providing fresh fruits and vegetables for our human neighbors at a modest rate. He loves his work, and he’s well-loved as a result, but his small complaints of an aching back and stiff hands concern me.

         Whenever I look at him, I understand quickly where I’ve inherited my work ethic. He and I are so similar, especially when it comes to our looks. Green eyes, black hair, slender builds. Everything I have, I owe it all to my father.

         “I’ll make you proud, Dad,” I whisper, already seeing our small house in the distance. Earlier today, I told him not to worry about dinner, but those illuminated windows make it clear that he’s still up, probably making a stew of some kind.

         Indeed, I pass through the threshold of our small home to breathe in the smell of herbs and vegetables. Dad stirs at the pot on the stove, throwing in ingredients and tasting now and then. He perks up once he notices me.

         “Hanna, my dear,” he says. He drops his spoon, wrings his hands on his apron, and hurries over.

When he embraces me, I’m encapsulated by the smell of musk, sweat, and aromatic spices.

“How are you? You seem a bit tired.”

         “Yeah,” I whisper, allowing my small bag to fall from my aching shoulder. “Training was rough today.”

         “Well, you’re in luck,” my dad replies, patting my cheek before hurrying back to the stove. “I’m making a bisque. You liked the last one I made, so I decided to make it again.”

         The thing about his cooking is that he doesn’t write down the recipes. He only remembers the general structure of the dish. So he doesn’t know the precise measurements or exact ingredients he uses from one dish to another.

         Even still, the food ends up delicious every time.

         “Thank you.” I let out a small groan as I plop into the dining room chair. There’s only two, for the two of us. “I’m close to earning my wings. Soon enough, you’ll have all the food in the world at your disposal.”

         “Oh, my dear, there’s no need to be gluttonous. We have all that we need right here.”

         “Sure, but…” I tilt my head at my father as he scoops some bisque into a small bowl. “Don’t you wish we could live above our means sometimes? We’d be able to afford the best silks, the best meats, the best-tasting milk and creams across all of Aerasak. We’d live even better than the xaphan in their glittering castles.”

         My dad laughs, sending me a look. The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth are prominent.

         “Why would I want to live better than the xaphans? To earn their ire?” he asks, perking a brow. He makes his way over to give me my plate before heading back to the stove to serve himself. “They’re selfish, Hanna. They will never think humans are their equals. That’s why we get the scraps in this settlement while the rest of New Solas prospers.”

         I poke at the vegetables floating in my orange soup with a fork. “Once I get my wings, things will be different.”

         “I’m sure they will be,” he replies, taking the seat across from me. His cheery disposition always makes my worries and doubts ebb away. “But if you’re only driven by money, then that’s no way to go. You have to love what you do, my dear. Now!” My dad claps his hands. “Dig in and tell me what you think.”

         Just as expected, my first taste of the bisque fills my mouth with amazing flavor. “Delicious as always, Dad.”

         “I’m so glad. I played around with the ingredients this time.” Dad spoons a few eager bites into his mouth before pausing to look at me. As much as I enjoy the flavors, I don’t have as much enthusiasm behind my movements.

         I take a moment to ruminate on his words, especially his remark about loving what I do. Like all the other humans in the training camp, I want to earn my wings. I want to be as esteemed as the xaphans, but at the same time, I’m wearing myself down to the bone to do so.

         And at the same time, I have to deal with the disgusting treatment of some xaphans. Like Zathex, who would rather see me as a piece of meat than a person with thoughts and emotions. Or ambitions. Dreams of my own.

         “A lummi for your thoughts?” my dad asks with a grin. “You seem more tired than usual today. You’re hardly eating your food. Did you get hurt during training?”

         “No, not at all, I –”

         “Did someone hurt you?”

         “No!” I shake my head, but thoughts of Zathex come to the forefront. 

The stupid xaphan and his white wings with blue undertones. If I could rip those off of him and put them on my own back to wear, I would. “Don’t be silly. No one can hurt me while I’m in the training camp.”

         “Then…?” My dad perks a brow. He sets aside his spoon and folds his hands over the table. “Are you sure nothing’s bothering you? You know you can speak to me about whatever is on your mind, right?”

         “I know that, Dad. I do, but sometimes I don’t want to bother you with my little problems. You have enough on your plate as it is.”

         “That’s where you’re wrong. One day, when you have kids of your own, you’ll understand me better. But right now, I would never brush off your problems and worries. And I would never act as if my problems are somehow worse than yours.”

         Smiling slightly, I know that my dad means his words. He’s an honorable man, one who sleeps soundly at night knowing that he’s done right by others. Still, I have my reservations about telling him about Zathex. This isn’t a situation he can do anything about, unfortunately.

         I’ll put that annoying bastard in his place one of these days. Once I get my wings, maybe.

         “I guess I’ve been more stressed out because of the increased amount of training we’ve been going through. The final candidates are getting whipped into shape so that they’re completely ready to receive their wings.”

         My dad nods, listening intently. “This should be an exciting time for you, then.”

         “Exciting and exhausting all at once.” I slurp down some soup. Sitting back and smelling the aroma instead of eating makes my stomach complain loudly. “Thank you for the soup, Dad. You’ve made my night a thousand times better.”

         Dad takes out an old rag and wipes his mouth with it. His knuckles are callused, and old scars dance across his skin. “I have to show you what the greenhouse looks like nowadays. It’s truly incredible. Do you remember Josiah, Marney’s boy? He’s taken up an interest in gardening as well! I hope to teach him some tricks soon.”

         The thought of a younger boy following my dad around the greenhouse warms my heart. A small part of me wishes that it could be me assisting him wherever he goes, but the circumstances don’t allow that.

         I have to be the one to drag us out of poverty. It doesn’t matter if I destroy my body in the process. My dad will have a better life for himself. I’ll make sure of it.

         Oh, Mom. I wonder how different our lives would be had you lived a little longer.

         Maybe then I wouldn’t have to work so hard to get my xaphan wings. Maybe I’d have a bakery in the settlement or even a clothing store. In my daydreams, I imagine myself spinning threads to make the finest silk across all of New Solas. Xaphans, nymphs, fae, everyone would line up outside of my shop to buy their clothes.

         “There you go again,” my dad jokes. His bowl sits empty, while mine still rests with most of the bisque. “Lost in your thoughts like always. You know, your mother used to do that a lot.”

         “Then I must’ve got that from her.”

         “That would make a lot of sense. And that intense stubbornness and desire to succeed comes from her, too.”

         Dad gathers his plate and brings it over to the faucet to wash. Meanwhile, I do my best to eat every last drop of bisque. I don’t like wasting food, especially when my dad’s hands were the ones who made the dish.

         By the time I’m done, he clears the table and guides me outside to our porch. He hands me a small cup of meadowmint tea as he tells me stories about his youth before he settled in New Solas.

Every now and then, as my father’s words wander in my mind, I stare up at the night sky and think. He deserves a good future. And so do I.