Chapter 9 - The lady with no wings

The heavy light of dusk hits me in the face harder than a sword to a shield. Groaning, I raise myself groggily on one arm to look around my room. In the dim orange glow cast by the reluctantly fading sun behind the horizon, shadows are flung around the room like dancing fires of black and gold: things are missing from my shelves- books, potions, and my wardrobe has been flung open to reveal a smattered array of messy clothes. Looks like somebody didn't find what they were looking for, I think heavily to myself, slowly becoming aware of the pain in my head and the crooked mess of white and gold feathers that have splayed all over my back. I glimpse my best sword leant up precariously against the bedside counter, the golden hilt gleaming with its proudly emblazoned rubies, like vampires eyes. For a moment, I stare in blissful ignorance.