"You're late again, boy," an older man scolded, shaking his head with dissatisfaction. Leander stood amidst bubbling potions, the scent of strange liquids wafting through his cluttered workshop. He poured them carefully into a beaker labeled with faded remnants of previous experiments.
As the liquids mixed, they emitted a soothing aroma that filled the room. Leander lifted the beaker to his nose, taking a deep whiff. Satisfied, he tore off the old label and inscribed 'lavender' on a fresh one.
Meanwhile, Arion, his red-headed apprentice, set down his travel bag with a sigh, wiping sweat from his furrowed brow. Leander glanced lazily at his young apprentice. Despite his occasional tardiness, Arion showed a lot of promise for a 14 yo. Arion is a diligent student with a knack for alchemy. Yet, there was a flaw, not entirely his fault, that tested Leander's patience.
Leander sighed deeply and set the beaker aside. He fetched a bowl of clear water from a corner of the workshop and placed it within Arion's reach without a word. Arion looked up, meeting Leander's gaze with a nod of silent gratitude.
Returning to his desk, Leander resumed his meticulous work, the clinking of glass and faint bubbling of potions filling the air.
"What will I be assisting with today?" Arion asked politely, though his tone hinted at impatience.
Leander sighed again, his yellow eyes drifting to Arion. The boy stood slightly above average height, his fiery red hair unkempt, and his sun-kissed skin showing signs of hard work under the Caelum sun. His eyes, a rare marigold brown for his age, it was obvious he'd grow up strong like Leon was.
"Do you have something better to do?" Leander retorted, tying back his scruffy dark hair and fixing Arion with a piercing stare.
Arion shrugged, a hint of defiance in his gesture not caring for Leanders scares.
"If there's no work, then my presence here serves no purpose."
Leander nodded knowingly and turned back to his work, scribbling a few instructions on a scrap of brown paper. While the task was mundane, it kept Arion occupied—a preferable alternative to the trouble his restless spirit often brewed.
Arion packed his belongings swiftly, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He adjusted his worn shoes and took the note from Leander's outstretched hand.
"Is that all?" Arion questioned, eyeing the note with mild curiosity.
Leander nodded absently, engrossed once more in the delicate dance of alchemical experimentation.
Arion turned to leave, his hand on the door handle. Before he could open it, Leander's voice halted him.
"Remember to tuck your wings in when you come in and keep your feathers—" Leander began, but the door slammed shut with a loud bang, cutting off his sentence. A few stray feathers floated gently to the floor, eliciting an irritated sigh from Leander as he massaged his temples.
---
Arion stepped out onto the porch, the soft, billowing clouds spreading coolness beneath his feet. He gripped a handful of cloudstuff, kicking it playfully like a child. With a crouch and a stretch of his large, dark-brown wings, he took to the air, the wind tousling his fiery locks.
Flying was exhilarating, a sensation that never dulled. The rush of wind, the freedom of movement, and the weightlessness beneath his wings were perfect, every time.
Mid-flight, Arion remembered his errand and veered left, smoothly navigating the cloud pathways. Soon, he arrived at Ms. Daphne's store, nestled in the left wing of Caelum. He knocked politely on the door, but it swung open abruptly, knocking his arm aside.
A boy his age emerged, with long, black hair and eyes as deep and dark as the night sky. Initially surprised, his expression turned cold upon recognizing Arion's distinctive red hair.
Without a word, the boy brushed past Arion, ensuring his brown and white feathers flicked in Arion's face with deliberate disrespect.
"Tch," Arion hissed quietly, annoyed by the boy's insolence but choosing to ignore it. He entered the store, determined to collect the items quickly and return home. Before leaving, he stopped by a sweet shop, picking up a pack of honey candies shaped like small flowers.
Back at his home nestled in the higher reaches of Caelum, Arion's demeanor softened upon entering. In the living room, a frail young girl played with her stuffed toys. Spotting her brother's return, she brightened, running over with a huge, warm smile. She hugged Arion tightly, and he returned the embrace with equal affection.
"You're back early today!" she exclaimed, her eyes shimmering with love.
"Yeah, Doc sent me out early," Arion replied, setting down his bag to reveal the candies. Her smile widened at the sight of her favorite treats, and she eagerly accepted the bag.
Knowing these simple indulgences would lift her spirits meant everything to him. Yet, there was one thing he wished for more.
As she reached for the candies, Ilio suddenly dropped the bag, a chill running down her spine. She shivered, her body turning cold as ice, and let out a pained groan as a blue mark traced an intricate pattern on her skin.
Arion's eyes reddened with frustration. He wished more than anything that his little sister wouldn't have to endure such suffering. Ilio had been frail since birth, but a mysterious illness had worsened when she turned six, causing these freezing attacks with no known cure.
Quickly, Arion wrapped her in a towel, recoiling at the icy touch of her skin. Helplessness and anger warred within him as he held her close, knowing there was little he could do except provide warmth to ease her pain.
Once the attack subsided, Ilio regained her smile, assuring her brother that she was okay. She could sense his pain, amplified by his inability to alleviate hers. She grabbed the bag of candies, popping one into his mouth.
"Sweets make everything better!" she chirped happily, as if the painful episode had never occurred.
Grateful for her attempt to comfort him, Arion managed a smile with what remained of his heart. Inside, he seethed with anger.
Their parents had passed away shortly after Ilio fell ill, leaving Arion determined to find a cure. Every day, he delved into health books at the library, seeking any hint of a remedy. The results were either temporary or incomplete, offering little relief to his sister's suffering.
Night fell, and Arion tucked his sister into bed, teasing her about the night light she still used even though she's a fledgling. If not for her stupid disease she would already be learning how to fly.
"That's not funny," Ilio pouted, wondering why her brother teased her so.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Arion chuckled softly, patting her fluffy hair trying his best not to anger himself again.
"Tomorrow, I have to leave early, but I'll leave breakfast on the table," Arion promised, ensuring she remembered.
Already half-asleep, Ilio nodded drowsily, snuggling into her covers.
Arion smiled warmly at her peaceful expression. "Goodnight, sunshine," he whispered, closing the door softly behind him.