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Once upon a midnight sun, the little avian humanoid with long white hair was sitting on the edge of the cliff, the very cliff which was the edge of a dark, vast void. Behind her, existed a lackluster marble structure that served as a prison for other avians alike. No one was able to escape the prison, not because it harbored enormous cages, not because it was covered with thick, stone bars, simply, because it was encompassed with a wide, vast, and bottomless abyss.
Their captor had no reason to use bars and cages to trap the little avians inside, they would simply die if they even tried to flap their wings and throw themselves out in the void. The avians had large wings, each adorned with a medley of colorful feathers. The wings’ most important purpose, however, was to disguise the avians as various species of birds.
Seen by the human eyes, like the other humanoids, the white-haired avian was only a white dove. She would sometimes sit on the edge of the cliff, reminiscing about the life she never had. Pondering whether they were meant for more or just a trinket to be played with by their captor. The wings, specifically. They had to be used for something more, hadn't they? More than only flying in the confined hall they were in. The avians were meant to fly, not sit and wallow in the middle of darkness, with only an orange orb that served as the sun, to bask in as a companion. There was a life ahead of them, as it was a life past them.
Hence, the dove would sit and tell stories about what she dreamed of to others. The children were mesmerized by all she could come up with, and with good reason. One day, however, those stories led to demise. One of those very young children, who had not yet come of age to fly, leaped straight into the dark sky, thinking if he could fly far enough, he would find the real sun and enjoy its light in green, vibrant meadows.
Later on, his cries were echoed in the dim void, shouting: "The sky is blue!" The avians were devastated, heart broken in two, his mother strode to the poor white-haired girl like a bullet. "Your delusions killed my child!" She wailed. "You think daydreaming would save us from this hell?! Nothing would! We'd have to survive until that man would let us out. You took that life from my dearest treasure! Why didn't you jump first?!" The whole crowd erupted into a chaos of loud voices and cries, but they all went silent after they felt the thundering footsteps of their captor heading towards their hall.
Hearing the commotion, the man whom the avians knew as "The Captor" came barreling into the hall. The avians scattered around, leaving the white dove alone. Their captor could see their true form and understand their chirps and chitters. Seeing the forlorn look on all those faces, he knew someone must have performed a jump. "I knew I had to keep you in your place, I was just a fool to believe you wouldn't try a stunt on one of my little birds!" He shouted, voice resonating through the walls.
"I was the one who was supposed to jump! I was the one who was supposed to take the chance! Not him! Now I would rather die." She leaped to the air and screamed in his face, her voice rivaling his own. "Well, well, well. Wouldn't you be the one to regret taking your chance?"
He suddenly grabbed the dove in a tight fist, shoved her into his pocket and left the hall, leaving the others in a stupor after his departure.
They didn't hear anything from the little dove in the next few days, thinking that she must've been dead; but finally, the captor appeared, holding the white-haired girl in an iron fist. He then threw her out in the middle of the hall, fracturing a part of her now, stone wings.
The avians' screams of horror could have no effect on the captor's ears. Those wings, full of life and beauty were replaced with stone, dull, wing-like blades made with magical craftsmanship.
The girl harboring the said wings fared no better, she was visibly tortured and bruised to the point of breaking apart. It was a pity, the avians thought. She had no means of flying, even in their tiny confines. She wouldn't speak any words except: "I want to see the blue sky."
Others were terrified of the fate bestowed upon the white-haired girl, fearing that they might end up the same as her. Was this how life was supposed to be? Was this the reason they were created? Just to sit and watch themselves be treated as mere playthings for the pleasures of an oppressive monster who called himself a man? The dove was right, death was a much better sentence.
She was no longer alive. She simply existed, a creature devoid of any dreams or means to reach them. She only had one last wish: to see the blue sky, just like that boy did. Maybe he was in a better place. Maybe he did find the real sun in the meadows.
With those thoughts, one day, she came upon the edge of the cliff again. Barely managing to drag her heavy wings to the place. The limbs that once were a beacon of hope to escape the prison were now a dark reminder of her fate. The very thing that could save her was now meant to keep her locked in. Even if these wings can't save me, maybe they can save others. The void now could speak to her, calling her to embrace the abyss.
The jump had a slim chance of survival, but she was ready to take it, even though death seemed horrific enough, staying would've been no better. With shaky legs, she stepped ahead and with a final goodbye slipped past the edge.
Right in front of her eyes, the site before her shifted, morphing and changing into vivid colors. Dark blue, light blue, and then yellow. “It's a mirage! It's a mirage!” She couldn't help but shout that out loud. No one could see it unless they stepped past the edge. The whole expanse of their everyday world was just a facade to keep them locked away in their own misery, the misery that was digging up a pit in the bottom of the captor’s heart.
I wish I had my wings. She thought wistfully, as the wind was caressing her now sun-kissed skin. Maybe the boy had managed to use his wings and land safely somewhere in the wide, vast world. It would be all right. She knew she could no longer fly and that the stone wings would make her drop onto the ground with a heavy, fatal landing, but it would be all right. The stone wings would save the others, maybe in another way, or maybe like her. But they would one day make the avians see the yellow-blue sky.
And they did.