Chapter 5: Custody Battle - Round 1
On the day before he turned seventeen, Kir was in excruciating pain.
His wing buds had started growing weeks before, such that his back itched constantly as the bones and muscles grew.
His mothers had helped as best they could, even staying up late to keep towels of cold water on his swelling back. They also brought him outside when he asked and in the light of the two moons, Kir screamed as his magic went wild, shaking the very earth beneath him as it escaped his control. His mothers stood nearby, shielded by a lattice formed from magic that he'd taught to Brigit.
Kir didn't want to wreck the house, so he grit his teeth and held on, crying out every time he felt the sharpness of the bone trying to escape his flesh.
He was thinking that death would be preferable when suddenly he heard a tone.
The sound of an instrument drew his attention, and sitting nearby, he saw a man sitting on the grass, strumming a lyre.
Brigit and Darlae watched as the man, unheeding of the magical forces shredding the area, continued to play, until with a massive ripping sound, Kir's wings came free of his back and fanned out into the night.
"Perfect, perfect!" The man said, his voice sonorous and manly in a way Kir would come to envy. "You are far more than I imagined you would be." He put the lyre under his armpit and clapped.
Kir's mothers did not waste time. Brigit gathered water and cleaned off his bloody wings, and Darlae put up her fists.
"The hell are you?" Darlae challenged.
"Me?" The mysterious man chuckled. As the tears cleared from his eyes, Kir got his first clear look at him. "I'm that child's father. You may call me Maledict. That's what the humans call me after all."