Flight of the Five Swans
Feathered Chapter 25

Raia

After weeks of silence andisolation from other people—not counting her sisters—Raia felt exhaustedlistening to another human talk again. It wasn’t as though Ayden was exactly garrulous; he was nowhere near aschatty as Eurielle, even on her quietest day. Nor was he even as talkative as Thaleia could be when she starteddiscussing—or ranting, really—on one of her favorite subjects. Yet Raia found it difficult to concentrate onfollowing Ayden’s one-sided conversation; she’d quite simply fallen out ofpractice when it came to listening to someone—anyone—speak. And whilethere was nothing really forcing her to pay attention to Ayden, she couldn’thelp feeling a sense of obligation to remain at least polite enough to make theeffort to listen.

Darn her manners.

Not that it was entirely asacrifice. Truth be told, Raia waspleasantly surprised by how quickly the rest of the day passed after Aydenjoined her and her sisters as their walking companion. Once he understood that the swans—andRaia—preferred that he keep his distance, he was scrupulous in trying to putall of the princesses—both human and swan—at their ease. He made sure to keep a respectable distancebetween himself and Raia at all times, so as not to be attacked by herterritorial companions. While this meantthat Ayden had to travel behind the group of princesses, he did not seem overlybothered at having to raising his voice just a tad in order to be heard byRaia.

Though he initially began by tryingto ask questions of Raia, Ayden quickly realized that the effort wasfutile. She responded to his yes-or-noquestions with a noncommittal shrug—ifshe responded to them at all. Seeingthat this form of topic was going nowhere, Ayden began to tell her stories inorder to fill the silence as they walked. Many of the stories he told were ones that she recognized as slightlydifferent versions of bedtime tales she’d been told as a girl in Kyoria. She supposed that the variations between theKyorian and Hiallan versions of the fairy tales were reflective of thedifferent cultures of the people shaping and telling the tales. Whatever the case, Raia found the storiesfascinating—and she was not the only one. After only a couple of hours, Callia had taken to walking nearest toAyden, head cocked as though listening to him speak. Eurielle had also begun riding on the back ofAyden’s horse to be spared the task of walking, and Raia was certain that theyoungest swan princess was listening avidly to all of the stories beingtold. Ayden had a natural gift forstorytelling that was almost equal to Callia’s, and Raia found herself mentallypainting in her mind’s eye some of the most vividly described scenes. Her fingers—knitting still—seemed to developa phantom cramp, as if they longed for the paintbrush that they hadn’t held inso long.

With such entertainment, Raia wasalmost surprised to note that the sun was beginning to set—a clear indicationthat it was time to make camp for the night. Here, too, Ayden proved to be a more valuable companion than Raia hadinitially realized. He was veryproficient at lighting a fire for warmth—something that Raia had not attemptedfor the entirely of her journey, due to her fear of the light being spottedfrom afar. He also carried a smallsupply of food in his saddlebags, which included a strange type of flat breadand some kind of dried meat. Raia’smouth watered as Ayden offered her some of the jerky. She had not had any such protein in her dietsince near the beginning of their journey, when Petra had still been pilferingfood for her from houses and farms on the edge of the Deturian forest.

Raia sat with her back against atree as she ate, with her sisters foraging around her for their owndinner. Ayden settled himself on theground a good five feet away from the princesses. He did not dare to approach any closer; Raiawas sure that the man’s kneecaps were already well covered with bite markscourtesy of the swan sisters.

For the first several minutes, thestrange company sat in silence, with the only audible sounds being the sound ofchewing, the wind rustling through the trees and, occasionally, the softclickety-clack of Raia’s knitting needles. Even the swans seemed to have taken on the same silent vow as Raia, asnot a single one of the five emitted so much as a peep, let alone a honk.

It was Ayden who broke the silenceat last. “I have to say that it’s ratherunfortunate that I don’t know your name. Isn’t there any way you could write it down for me?”

Raia spared him a quick glance, butmade no response. There was no way onearth that she was going to give her name to anyoneshe’d known for less than a day, not unless she was absolutely certain that he was anally. And in spite of how pleasant acompanion Ayden seemed to be, she still had a couple of doubts in regards tohow trustworthy he actually was.

“I’ll take that as a no,then.” His voice was regretful.

Clickety-clack,went Raia’s needles, and nothing else for a long moment. When Ayden spoke again, there was a hint ofeagerness in his voice.

“Then…would you mind if I chose aname for you? Just to have something tocall you?”

Raia paused in her knitting, a miteshocked at his presumption. He wanted tochoose a name for her? What was she, hispet? Still, presumptuous though he maybe, she couldn’t deny the inherent logic in his request. There was really no reasonable excuse for himnot to call her by something, even ifit was by a fake name of his own invention. She shrugged noncommittally, her hands moving once more.

“Great!” The smile in Ayden’s voice was evident,though Raia did not look up at him to see it. “Then I’ll call you by…let’s see…”

Raia could only guess that Aydenwas having a hard time deciding by what name to call her, for he did not offerany suggestions for a full ten minutes at least.

“Svana!” he said at last in atriumphant tone. The five swans hadbecome accustomed to the silence around the group, and all jumped at the suddenreemergence of Ayden’s voice. Again,Raia paused in her knitting. If herbasic language lessons served her correctly, ‘svana’ was the word for swan in several differentlanguages. Her eyes flew to her sisterswaddling beside her, and she smirked a bit. It had taken the man ten minutes to come up with that? He might just as wellhave called her ‘Birdy’ for his lack of originality. The artist in Raia highly disapproved.

Still, she shrugged again, andAyden took this as indication of her agreement—or at least, as a lack of disagreement.

“So, Svana.” he beganconversationally, and Raia raised her eyes from her knitting, lifting them uptowards heaven. Mercy, could he not lether knit in peace?

Ayden must have glimpsed herexasperated expression, as he did not finish his sentence. The subsequent silence bothered Raia morethan she expected, and she found herself wondering what he had been about tosay. At last, her curiosity got the bestof her. She lowered her knitting andglanced up to look at Ayden, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

He seemed to be waiting for justsuch an opening. He grinned and pattedthe saddlebag resting at his side.

“I have my rhaita with me. Do you mind if I play?”

Raia’s eyebrows furrowed inconfusion. A rhaita? She’d never heard the word before, and couldonly assume that the differences in culture were once again revealingthemselves.

Ayden evidently read the unspokenquestion on her face. “It’s aninstrument.” He explained to her,reaching into his saddlebag and removing the item in question. “I take it they don’t have rhaitas inDeturus.”

Raia shook her head and stared atthe instrument curiously. The body ofthe instrument was rather long and thin around the middle, and then widened toa bell-like shape at the end. It was abeautiful model, made of a reddish wood and polished to a shiny finish so thatit gleamed by the light of the campfire.

The sight of the strange instrumentseemed to have awoken something in Eurielle. The swan immediately stopped foraging, and nestled herself on the groundfacing Ayden, her expression almost expectant. Ayden regarded the bird’s actions with more than a little surprise. Raia, however, was heartened by her sister’sevident eagerness to hear the music that Ayden was offering to play. She welcomed such obvious evidence thatEurielle hadn’t become entirelyswanlike; the youngest princess still maintained her love of all things musicaldespite her avian form.

Ayden needed no other encouragementthan a willing audience, be they human or bird. He began to play.

The tone of the rhaita was haunting,and the melody of the song even more so. Raia felt goosebumps rise up on her arms, and her knitting lay forgottenin her lap as she let the music wash over her. She closed her eyes as she listened to the melancholy air.

Raia’s eyes were slightly damp bythe end of the song. She blinked themrapidly to dry the moisture. A quickglance around the campsite told her that she had clearly not been the only oneto be moved by the music. The sound ofAyden’s playing had caused all five of her sisters—not just Eurielle—to pausein their eating in order to listen to the beautiful melody. Eurielle had inched closer to Ayden as heplayed, putting her within his arm’s reach—far closer than any of the swans haddared to venture thus far, apart from when they were attacking. Ayden had closed his eyes as well whileplaying his instrument. On reopening hiseyes, he was startled and looked slightly apprehensive to replace one of the swanssitting so close to him.

Raia applauded softly butgenuinely. The sound of her clappingechoed slightly. Finding the noiseslightly jarring in the night stillness, she stopped after bringing her handstogether only a couple of times. Still,Ayden seemed highly gratified by the indication of her appreciation. He smiled softly at the instrument, then ather.

“That’s my favorite tune.” Headmitted quietly. “My mother would oftensing it to me at night.”

Raia bunched her hands around herknitting, almost welcoming the slight sting of the nettle yarn to which she hadbecome so accustomed over the last month or so. For the first time since meeting Ayden earlier that day, she felt theheaviness of their silence. She wishedthat it were possible for her to break it. She wanted to be able to talk about the music, and to ask—gently—about his mother. She sensed from his tone that he had perhapsalso experienced the loss of hismother as she had hers, so long ago. Raia would have liked to comfort him somehow, or simply to share theirexperiences with each other.

But she couldn’t. Not without speaking.

She caught Ayden’s eye and smiledslightly, before gesturing towards his rhaita in a silent invitation to playthe same song again. He nodded at hergratefully, seeming to understand her meaning perfectly, before taking up hisinstrument once more. Raia picked up theforgotten shawl and resumed knitting as the strains of music rang out acrossthe clearing, echoing deep into the night.