Take Me Home

Wren kicked down the dirt path, passed the barn, passed the paddock, lost in the silence of loneliness. It was dusk, and her father hadn't yet returned from his trip to the city.

She hated when he left, and was jealous that he took the stable hand, but not her. She knew why he never took her along with him- the real reason.

Wren knew it was because she took after her mother. Like Adda Jamison, Wren had wild curly hair, that was the color of the afternoon sunshine, and freckled, sun-kissed skin, far warmer than any other local. Even as a child she was gawked at; pale faces with wide dark eyes, whole crowds of people just stared at her, like barn owls hunting a field mouse.

Once she turned thirteen, her father refused to let her leave the farm all together. She was no longer allowed to go shopping, or even go to school. He only ever promised that he’d find her a kind husband, who wouldn’t mind her complexion, and brought her books from every trip he took without her.

But Wren didn’t mind spending her time reading on her own; the kids in the school house had taken months to understand what she’d read through in a day in the text books. Wren had her own library by the time she was fifteen, on many subjects, and she loved the pilfered collection of encyclopedias and atlases she’d lifted from her father’s locked office. They described the world beyond the walls of Serandan.

The world, Wren had come to understand, was a collection of floating islands, hundreds of miles over a central orb of tumultuous ocean, connected by a railway system, blimps, and airships. The railway was dangerous and usually used only to move heavy loads, and was connected and disconnected from each floating plate several times a year. The train only ever connected with her home island every six months, and even then only for two days. If the tracks weren’t disconnected in time, the entire rail system would be in danger.

Serandan was a farming island. Their main exports were crops like rice, corn, and wheat, wool, and meat. Almost nobody chose to stay behind in the city after the market months were over. There were only temporary bordellos and pubs, no casinos or resorts as described in Wren’s encyclopedias. Simply farming people. It was a wonder to her why her mother ever chose to stay in a place like this, where everyone looked the same, and there was never any excitement. Wren longed for adventure, longed to leave the farm and see the town; she dreamed of visiting the Port where busy airships came in, and even daydreamed about buying a ticket to visit far off and exotic lands. She wanted to meet new people, try new things. But instead, the only person she could talk to was the stable hand, Henry, and he was always quiet.

Eventually, as the sun began to fall below the edge of the plate, Wren came to the railroad tracks.

They connected with the edge just south of the farm, and many a time she imagined grabbing hold of the great machine as it dove off the edge. But she’d never had the courage.

She walked along the metal line until a great gust of wind pulled her eyes forward- there it was, the only mouth in the wall that had long since been erected to protect people from falling off the edge.

She’d come close to the opening in the wall before, but always hid in the bushes- there were usually men with rifles standing guard just inside the gate. But, upon further inspection, Wren realized there were no guards, and the gate was wide open.

Intrigued, Wren darted toward the wall, and peeked around the edge of it. There was no one on either side. The wind seemed to be pulling at her clothes, at her hair, trying to draw her through, and so Wren let her feet carry her.

Her eyes were fixed on the edge, ust yards from her. She stopped to look to her right- there was an enormous expanse of land beyond the wall that way. It jutted far beyond the man-created border she had lived behind. She wondered why- why was there so much land left undeveloped?

As she lifted her foot to take a step, a gust of wind lifted her and slammed Wren against the wall.

Head splitting pain thrummed behind her eyes and everything went blurry. Wren sat forward when she could, squeezing her eyes closed. With her fingers she blindly felt for any wounds in her scalp, until she heard… something like a drum beat?

And then "Hey, you!" there was a distant voice. She gasped and pressed herself against the wall, willing her sight to clear. Instead she just felt sick as she blinked.

"Please, I was just looking-" she begged whoever it was that was shouting.

"You expect me to think you're not part of the militia?" The voice snarled.

"The what?" She replied. As her vision cleared she found that no one was standing before her. Wren looked around, and It was not until she heard another slap overhead that she noticed him hovering above her. Wren almost screamed but clamped her hands over her mouth. The man was gorgeous. He had wings as long as her fathers wagon, feathered in ivory and hazelnut. His tawny hair was tied back from his face, and his eyes were copper. He was scowling at her.

"The militia." He repeated impatiently. "The ones with guns. They said they'd send reinforcements. I've been waiting for days." He set his feet on the ground. "You're so… puny." He scowled.

Wren blinked a moment, sure she was hallucinating. "Great, thanks. If I could just get back, my father will be expecting me."

"I'm not letting you leave." He laughed and snatched her wrist.

"You can't keep me here. My father will come looking for me. I don't know who… or what you are. But you better let me go." She bluffed. Her father wouldn’t know to look for her near the ledge- they never spoke of it. He’d always been adamant about the dangers of the railway and the gates.

"Or what?" The man challenged with a sneer.

"Or…" her heart was racing and her head was still pounding; despite her best efforts, Wren's knees buckled.

"Hey! "He caught her as she stumbled. "What in all the worlds are you trying to accomplish?"

"I… could… ask you the…same." She mumbled before darkness consumed her.

Annoyed beyond belief at the weak little woman in his arms, Atlas glanced around.

Clearly she was not the back up the guards had said they'd sick on him. She was not armed, nor was she in the same armor as the others.

She was familiar to him though. She was paler than his kind, but her features… she looked like Princess Adda, who'd gone missing almost two decades ago. He was just a kid then, but he'd never seen golden hair before the princess, and never again since. Had he found the place where she'd been taken? If he could find the missing princess, Atlas would return a hero!

He cradled the woman easily and pushed off from the ground. This changed a lot of things in his plan. But his number one question when the woman awoke was clear. Where was Princess Adda?

When Wren finally opened her eyes, she found herself in a sleeping roll, on the hard ground of a dark cave. A campfire barely crackled a few steps away, and wind whispered at the distant mouth of the cave.

"Hello?" Wren called out, as panic began to set in. SHe’d been abducted.

"Quiet." The voice of the winged man from earlier cut through the darkness.

"I will not." Wren threw the blankets off herself, turning fear to anger. "Where have you taken me? Who are you? What are you?!" She demanded. The man threw something into the fire and it burst to life. In the orange glow his features were softened.

"I am Atlas, 3rd captain of the Kings Guard of Neighwa. You are in a burrow. It is the safest place for us right now."

"Unacceptable. I demand you take me home." Wren would’ve stomped her foot, had she been standing.

"I will not at this time. First you must answer my question, and depending on if I like your answer, we’ll negotiate your return. You will tell me the location of the person whom I seek." He glared at Wren. Her temper flared.

"Im not the person to tell you much of anything. I haven’t been away from my home in years! And besides, even if I knew, what would persuade me to give you an honest answer, anyway?” She huffed. “I'll just walk back." Wren scurried to her feet.

Atlas snickered. "Its a long drop out that door, woman." He dared.

"Drop-?" she echoed. "Where have you taken me?"

"Tell me where Adda is." Atlas demanded. When he stood, his wings were folded neatly behind him, and he held them high so they wouldn’t drag the floor.

"Adda? My mothers name was Adda…" Wren crossed her arms. "She died when I was young. I don’t know of any other Adda." Atlas was silent for a few moments. Wren watched as he closed his eyes, his lips pressed into a tight line. "Why do you know her name?" Wren's voice was low.

"Do you recall much of her?" He ignored her question.

"Some. I look like her. Father only has a couple photos of her before she grew sick."

"Father?" Atlas opened his eyes again, and they were trained on Wren. "You mean captor." he spat. “He forces you to call him father?”

"What?" Wren was shaken.

"Whoever this man says he is, he is not your father. If Adda was your mother, that makes your father High Prince Kato of Neighwa. He is a great and merciful man."

"I am not… what you are. I am not from… Neighwa.” I laughed. "Ed is my father. He runs a wheat farm. We have pigs and sheep and chickens."

"It's no matter if you do not believe me. I know the truth. You will come home with me, I will reunite you with the crown. The Prince will tell you what you need to know to believe him. And you will be whole again."

"No. I can't…" Wren began to argue but stopped short. Isn’t it what she’d always dreamed of? To escape the farm, the mundane life she was being forced into? She decided to change her words. “I don’t want to go somewhere where I don't have freedom.”

“Freedom is an illusion.” He said darkly. “‘Saranden is free, isn’t it? And yet it’s the only plata that surrounded it’s people with a wall. This island is much larger than you all think it is.”

“I still want it. I want to decide what happens to me, and where I go.” Wren argued.

“The journey home is long.” He shrugged. “I can show you places you haven’t seen. Show you true freedom. So long as you agree to return with me, in the end, to where you belong.”

“How is it that you know I am Princess Adda’s daughter?” Wren decided to try and question him more, instead of blindly agreeing.

“That birthmark on your neck- Princess Adda had the same one- shaped like a six point star. I bet you have scars on your shoulder blades.” He told her.

“I do. From a surgery- complications when I was born.” Wren shivered.

Atlas snarled. “No, they’re from your captor stripping you of your wings as a babe.” He suggested.

Wren felt sick to her stomach. Her father would never do such a thing. Sure perhaps he was… over protective, maybe even a little misguided, but he never meant to hurt her.

“You know what?” He offered her his hand. “Lets go to your home. Lets see your captor, ask him what he did to you. To your mother. I guarantee you that I am right.”

Wren’s heart felt like it was being squeezed. “I hope you aren’t, Atlas.”

When he looked at her, he could see the fear and sadness in her eyes, and Atlas began to feel guilty. He’d been more than rough with her. Especially if she was the descendant of the most beloved icon of his people.

“Lets rest until this gale has moved on, and then I will take you home. You will pack your most valuable possessions. I can only carry so much.”

“Carry- like… fly with you?” Her eyes were so wide, he couldn’t tell if she was afraid or excited.

“It is the only way to leave where we are.” He replied in a gentler tone. “Please, let's get some rest.”

Atlas watched as she measured the bedroll with her eyes again and decided to sit. “Do you usually sleep upright like that?” She asked him.

“No. That is my bedroll.” He sat, cross legged, on the other side of the fire pit.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She stood and brought one of the blankets to him. It was almost amusing to watch her duck around his wings.

“Thank you.” He flapped them a little to get comfortable, and she jumped. ”What may I call you, woman?” He demanded.

“Wren.” She said after a pause.

“Like the bird?” He chuckled. “How can you not be Princess Adda’s child?”

“Well, yours is Atlas, like what, because you can show me the world…” Wren grumbled quietly to herself. Despite having meant it as a joke, it felt like it was a blaring sign to her, that this was her path. Whatever happened after she confronted her father, she was going with Atlas.

When morning came, Wren sat upright. Atlas was packed and doing some sort of stretch. “How does it work?” Wren asked as she watched his wings beat.

“What, flying?” He smiled. “It’s a shame you don’t have wings- that freedom you are craving? Its the purest form- to fly high over the ground, over trees, to not be limited to using your feet to carry you- Its…” He closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s my favorite thing. I fly everywhere. And Neighwa is really built that way. Not many staircases. Or ladders. The High Prince will have to build you your own- perhaps you can carry it around with you.” He chuckled at the thought and Wren’s cheeks turned pink

“You are unbelievable.” she glared at the man.

“Come on then, come here to me.” He opened his arms.

“After such a comment?” Wren crossed her arms and turned away. But Atlas was impatient, he grabbed Wren and launched them backwards, out the mouth of the cave. As they free fell for a moment, he enjoyed the look of terror on her face. He pulled her closed against his body and began to beat his wings. Wren clutched his arm and shoulder so tightly, that her nails dug into his flesh. He adjusted his hold on her so that she was parallel to his body, and wrapped her legs around him.

“I won’t drop you- you barely weigh anything-” He was smiling. Wren felt indignant as she clutched onto him out of necessity.

“You are a jerk!” She cried, her eyes still squeezed shut.

"I am what I am. Now, open your eyes so you can tell me where to go." He murmured in wrens ear.

She did open her eyes then, and marveled at the sight. They were under the plate. There were massive stalactites descending into clouds far below them, and clouds all around. The sun was blinding and still below the edge of the plate, making it just early morning. As they rose, her ears popped, but it was releasing. She was in awe of the expanse beyond her elementary view.

"I've never seen such beauty." She mumbled to herself. As they neared the ledge the wind was strong but Atlas navigated it expertly. They rose above her usual surface level, and she noticed that there were tents just inside the wall now, 3 of them, with low burning campfires. A century started shouting, and Atlas dove for the cover of the woods beyond them. They perched in one of the great sequoia trees and he tucked her against the trunk.

"Sh." He whispered to her. "I didn't expect them to bring that many men. Although, I guess perhaps I shouldn’t have picked on the few that were there."

“You didn’t expect-? The Governor is militant.” Wren shuttered. “The regular guards at the gate had rifles. How could you expect anything less? Are they… looking for you?” Atlas only watched the men on the ground. “Are they? What about confronting my father?” She hissed. “We can’t go now, you are too conspicuous.”

He growled. “You’re right, and I can’t fight if I’m holding you.”

“How about…” Wren glanced down. “What if I go home, confront my father, and meet you back here.”

“Here? How?” He grimaced. “And how do I know you will come back? Or that you won’t turn me in?”

Wren nodded in understanding. “Because I have dreamed of this my entire life- a chance for adventure instead of the monotony I was promised. I will be here. I swear it.”

“I will come and get you if I must.” He grumbled.

“I’ll meet you back here in the woods at dusk. And if I don’t, I’ll be at the farm just north of here. There's a big red barn and the house is yellow.”

“Please don’t make me hunt you down, Wren.” Atlas’ smile was sharp.

“I swear I won’t. Now I’m going down. I’ll lead them away from here, so you can fly to safety.” She winked at him, and began to slide down the enormous tree.

When Wren reached the forest floor, she could feel the sap stuck to her face, and knew she looked ragged. Wren stumbled toward the camp of men, and intercepted the search group.

“Help me please,” Wren cried out and stumbled.

“What’s wrong with you- woman-” One of the uniformed men squinted at Wren. “Thats the missing girl- he said she’d have yellow hair, didn’t he?” another soldier nodded.

“My father- was he looking for me? Please, I’d like to go home. I am so scared. Do you know the way?” The soldiers helped Wren stand, and she leaned against one for support.

“Yes he was very concerned about you.” A man with green eyes said.

“Miss you haven’t seen any… large birds, have you?” another asked. Wren shook her head.

“I’d really like to get home. I feel so faint.” Wren feigned passing out for a moment. The men fanned her awake and gave her food and water. Most of them escorted Wren all the way back to the farm, without another question.

As soon as Wren stepped onto the front porch, her father rushed outside. He gathered Wren into a hug and thanked the men for bringing her home. When they were out of sight, Wren followed her father into the kitchen.

“What in heavens happened to you?” the older man asked. As Wren took in the concern in his tone and his watery gaze, she almost cracked. She felt guilty for letting Atlas, a perfect stranger, make her believe her father was a bad man. “I returned last night to find you missing- I brought some news with me- I think you’ll be happy with it.”

The old man turned and pulled some papers out of a stack on the counter. “Someone’s offered to buy the farm, and I accepted.”

“What?” Wren balked at the signed contract. Her name was clear at the beginning of one of the paragraphs. “What is that?”

“The man who wants this place- well… he wants you too. As his wife. He said he thought you were beautiful, I brought him a photo I had-”

“Father- you can’t just… you… you’ve sold me? With the farm?” She watched the man as he stood there, smiling.

“It’s not like that sugarbean. I know he’s a good man. And I just want you to be cared for and looked after. He’s sure to dote on ya-”

“Father- who?” Wren felt sick to her stomach.

“Well, I’ve known him a long long time… His name is Carlyle Calhoun.”

“Father- no-” Wren shook her head and stood. “I will not be a bartering chip-”

“You don’t have a say. I already signed.” The old man shook his head.

“You aren’t my real father, are you?” She heard the words as she said them, but her focus was on the unwavering old man.

“I have worked this land with my own hands for decades. I took care of you, treated you like you was my own. I deserve this- with the money from the sale I can get off this god forsaken plate. I thought you’d be happy, you’ll be wed to a wealthy man. He’ll give you more than I could. He promised me he would. I swore to your momma I’d get you set and comfortable. And I have. I made sure you were fed, clothed, read, I did it all. And you aint even grateful.” the old man clicked his tongue. “Course I aint your daddy. But I did the right thing and kept you safe all this time for the bird-woman.”

“You knew all along- and you refused to tell me? Are you the one who cut off my-” Wren’s voice wavered. She wanted to throw up. Her entire existence was a lie.

The old man ran a hand through his thinning hair. “I had to. They woulda done it if I didn’t.”

“I can’t believe you!” Wren cried. “I will not stay here and become a trophy wife for some old geezer. I am going to leave.”

“You can’t leave- there aint nowhere for you to go-” The old farmer looked anxious.

“I can so.” Wren bolted from the dining room but the old man was fast. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the cellar.

“You will stay down here until Carlyle arrives.” Ed said with finality in his tone.

“No!” Wren begged as he shoved her down the landing and slammed the door closed. Confused and shattered, Wren laid at the bottom of the short staircase, and felt the tears welling. Atlas had been right. She never should have returned. Wren should’ve just left with Atlas, without question. Now, would he come for her? Or decide she was too much trouble. SHe decided she couldn’t wait for the winged man to save her, she needed to get off the farm herself.

Wren waited until nightfall before she made her move. She popped the glass out of the cellar window and dug the dirt away from it. Trying to think quickly on her feet, Wren grabbed a trowel and began digging herself a passage to shimmy through. Once outside she took a steadying breath.

“Wren?” She heard someone call out to her from the darkness.

“Atlas?” She asked.

“No, it’s Henry.” the young man sighed. “What are you doing out here? Who’s Atlas?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I lost my book - it’s an Atlas. I thought I’d come check the barn, thats where I last had it-”

“I didn’t see a book in the barn.” Henry scoffed.

“Just let me check, please.” Wren held her polite smile, wishing the man would leave already.

“Want some help?” The farm hand asked.

“No, thank you. And if Father asks you about where I have gone, just pretend you haven’t seen me. I don’t want him to get upset about me losing a book.”

Henry only nodded and made his way toward the shed. Wren ran toward the barn and slipped inside for a moment. When all was silent, she darted from the barn into the woods.

She ran as fast as she could, until she was deep in the forest. She stopped suddenly, having forgotten just what lurks in the trees at night.

“Atlas!” She hissed, staring up into the sky where she could see it. Heavy footsteps made Wren nervous, and so she tucked herself against the trunk of a tree, and watched through the darkness with wide eyes.

“Woman?” Atlas growled. “Wren, you lied to me. I saw you come this way- come out now and explain yourself.”

Wren stepped into the small clearing just as tears welled in her eyes. “Atlas- you were right. For a moment I thought… I thought you were wrong about me. But my father… sold me with his farm. He sold me to a man…” She sucked in a hard breath. “I’m sorry- I would’ve come sooner, but he locked me in the cellar.”

Atlas shook his head. “ I told you he was nothing but a liar.” When Wren only cried, Atlas’ tone softened. “I’m sorry. That must have been rough.” He offered. Wren sniffled and rubbed her tears away with fists.

“Lets get out of here. Take me to my future. Wherever it is.” She told him. Atlas opened his arms and Wren stepped against him, this time comfortably aligning to his body. It was a rush even before Atlas alighted.

As they lifted off into the air, Wren heard her fathers familiar voice calling her name. “We have to get out of here, Atlas.” She told the man. Atlas grimaced at her. “If that man sees you, we’re both in trouble.” She thought of the time her father shot a hawk as it carried off a rooster.

“I bet he’ll be quite angry if he sees me taking his most valuable piece of property.”

“I’m not property.” Wren growled.

“I know that. You are the long lost princess of Neighwa. And I am honored to return you to your home. And he is lucky we have a limited window to fly, or I would personally teach him a lesson on respect. The next plate has aligned- it's close enough for me to fly to. We’ll get tickets on the next airship from there.”

“Airship?” Wren felt a little cheated. Seeing the world from his winged perspective was beautiful. They were high above the trees now, and Wren looked toward the wall. They would clear it without issue, the soldiers had their lanterns pointed toward the gate, far south of them.

Atas chuckled a little. “I can’t just fly us the entire way. I’d get too exhausted. There's a whole new world for you to learn about beyond the walls here. And we have plenty of time to learn about it on our way home.”

“I’m ready,” Wren wrapped her legs around Atlas' waist, and tucked her face against his shoulder to watch the familiar farmhouse fade with each flap of his enormous wings; the night air was cold. “Take me home.”