Heads Above the Clouds

I felt the cold, rough stone pressing against my back as I lay flat against the ground. The chill seeped through my clothes, making my bones ache with coldness. Above me, the cave's ceiling stretched high, jagged and uneven, the dark stone almost suffocating in its stillness. Every now and then, a drop of water would fall somewhere above, the sound sharp and echoing in the silence. It grated on my nerves, amplifying the emptiness around me.

My head throbbed with an intensity that made my vision swim. I gingerly lifted my hand to my forehead, feeling the rough bandage wrapped around it. My fingers brushed against the soft cloth, and a strange warmth from the bandage mingled with the cold air around me. My thoughts were clouded, confusion swirling in my mind as I tried to make sense of everything.

I sat up, slowly, careful of the pain that shot through my head. The ground was unforgiving beneath me, and I was disoriented, unsure of where I was or how I had gotten here. Panic tugged at the edges of my thoughts, but I fought to keep it at bay, focusing instead on the cave around me. The air smelled damp, mingling with the faint scent of earth and stone.

Then, I heard it-an unsettling flutter of wings, too graceful, too otherworldly. I froze, my body stiffening as I turned my head toward the source of the sound. A humanoid figure appeared from the shadows, its dark wings sweeping through the cave entrance like a cloak. The being's black wings were vast and elegant, a stark contrast to the dim light of the cave. My heart raced, fear gnawing at my insides, but strangely, I didn't move. There was something about this creature that... grounded me. Something that, despite the fear, felt oddly safe.

The humanoid stepped closer, its eyes glowing with an ethereal light, like twin emerald flames in the dark. His gaze was intense, studying me. When he placed his cold hand gently on my forehead, my breath caught. The chill of his touch seeped into me, almost as if he were part of the night itself. He didn't speak-he simply withdrew his hand, moving as fluidly as a shadow.

Then, he grabbed something beside me. The bowl in his hands gleamed in the dim light, filled with a thick, violet soup that bubbled quietly, the faintest aroma wafting through the air. It was unlike anything I had ever smelled before, rich and unfamiliar, yet oddly comforting.

I hesitated, my appetite nowhere to be found. My body was too tense, too rattled to think about food. But the creature watched me, his presence both comforting and unnerving. His gaze never wavered, and there was an intensity in it-an unspoken command.

"You should eat," his voice rumbled, low and deep, reverberating in the cave.

I looked at the soup, a mixture of curiosity and wariness brewing inside me. "What's in this, anyway?" I asked, my voice shaky despite my attempt at sounding composed.

He didn't answer. Instead, he moved with surprising speed, his hands gripping my head with an unsettling firmness. Before I could react, the bowl was pressed to my lips, the warm liquid pouring into my mouth. I choked, spluttering, the taste catching me off guard. It wasn't bad, though. It tasted like chicken soup-but richer, more complex, with an underlying flavor I couldn't quite place.

I struggled to swallow, gasping for air between each forced gulp, and though I wanted to push him away, I didn't. His grip was strong, but strangely gentle. When the bowl was empty, I coughed violently, my throat burning.

"See? It wasn't that bad," he said, standing up.

A wave of anger surged in me-he had forced me to eat, after all-but I bit my tongue. What was the point of arguing? I glanced at him as he moved back to the far corner of the cave, sitting down with something small in his hands. His wings shifted, making the cave's shadows dance. I turned my gaze to the entrance, realizing it was already dark outside. Night had fallen without me even noticing.

"You're in no condition to go out yet," he said, his voice cool and authoritative from across the cave. His eyes glowed in the dim light, almost hypnotic.

"I-I don't plan on going out there," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "A second out there and I'm dead."

"Hmm," he hummed, almost thoughtfully.

I lay back, staring at the cold, grey ceiling. The stone above was unforgiving, much like the reality of my situation. I had no idea how long I'd been out here, or how long I had left. He could end me at any moment, and there would be nothing I could do about it. My mind drifted to my mother-how would she react if she knew I was left for dead in some forsaken land? The thought hit me like a cold wave, but I couldn't let myself linger on it for too long.

I felt around the edges of my uniform, remembering that they put trackers inside our uniforms, to keep us safe. I dug my fingers into the seams, trying to locate it.

"Looking for this?" His voice came from just beside me, startling me.

I froze, looking up to find him holding the tracker between his thumb and forefinger, his gaze as steady as ever.

Fear crept through me, but I forced myself to remain calm, not wanting to show weakness. "You know they'll track that down, right?" I said, trying to sound confident, even as my pulse quickened.

"I know," he replied, his tone unbothered, like he was speaking about something trivial.

I didn't respond, instead choosing to lie back again, my eyes fixed on the stone above. The only sound in the cave now was the slow drip of water, punctuating the stillness. I tried to close my eyes to sleep, but the fear kept creeping back, keeping me awake. My gaze flicked over to him-he was asleep, or at least pretending to be. His wings were folded neatly behind him, the shadows of the cave casting a strange halo around his form.

He was beautiful in a way that felt wrong. Too perfect. His face, his eyes, even the elegant horns that crowned his head-everything about him radiated an otherworldly allure. His jet-black hair framed his sharp features, and his body was solid, built with strength and grace. It was hard to remember he was anything but a dream, until the glow of his eyes caught mine.

I quickly looked away, my heart hammering in my chest.

"What... what are you?" I asked, the words stumbling out before I could stop them. My voice shook with an anxiety I couldn't hide.

"I don't know," he answered, his voice almost a whisper, like a secret.

The simplicity of his answer made something heavy settle in my chest. There was more to this creature than I understood, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to know more.

"Why did you save me?" The question came before I could think about it. It slipped out, raw and vulnerable.

He didn't respond, and for a long time, neither of us spoke. The quiet stretched on between us like an unspoken agreement-he didn't want to share, and I didn't want to ask any more questions.

As the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the cave entrance, he stirred, standing up and heading toward the exit. The air outside shifted, a cool breeze brushing against the cave's threshold. Before he left, he glanced back at me.

"Stay here. Wait for me," he said, his voice still calm, but there was something possessive in it. As his wings unfurled, the darkness seemed to fall away, replaced by the gleam of his dark feathers catching the morning light.

I didn't move, my body too tired to argue. The world outside felt both terrifying and impossible to face.

I lay there, still and silent, as the he vanished into the sky. The noise outside was strange, a mixture of unfamiliar sounds, distant and alien. A flutter of movement caught my eye, and I saw a familiar butterfly with crystal wings drift past. It landed gently on my finger, its wings glistening in the light. I watched as it fluttered away and flew out of the cave.

Moments later, he returned, holding a giant mutated deer in his arms. The creature was unlike anything I had seen before, beautiful in its own eerie way, and though it was mutated, it was also strangely graceful. With sharp claws, he began to butcher the creature with eerie precision, his eyes glowing with a quiet focus.

He made a fire with ease, using stones and some dry branches, and soon the air was filled with the delicious smell of roasting meat. My stomach growled, despite my lingering fear. He placed the cooked meat into the bowl I had used the day before and handed it to me.

I took the bowl hesitantly. "Th-thank you..." I said, my voice unsure.

"Call me Lae," he said simply, his eyes meeting mine, and I felt something-perhaps a flicker of understanding-pass between us.

"Thank you, Lae," I whispered, before taking a bite of the meat. It was unlike anything I had ever tasted-soft, tender, and rich with flavor.

Lae watched me quietly as I ate, and though I could feel his gaze on me, I didn't look up. There was something in his presence that made me both uneasy and oddly comfortable. After the meal, he checked my injuries, his touch surprisingly gentle.

And, for reasons I couldn't explain, despite the fear that still pulsed beneath the surface, I found myself feeling something else-a strange connection, as though I had known him for much longer than I actually had.