“You know,” Said Plutus. “Most people with wings like yours would be at home, and not risking their lives rock hopping. And then there’s you,” I pulled my cloak around me. His words had struck a nerve, but I attempted to bluff my way out. I wasn’t very good, and Plutus put a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him. “Arlette.” I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Please be careful, I don’t want to lose another one of my charges.” I nodded, trying to stuff down tears. Is that all I was to him? Merely a teen whom he was responsible for? But no. How could I doubt Plutus so easily, after all he’s done for me. I nodded and he gave me a sad smile.He walked away, into the house, and I sat on the rock, where he left me.

He wouldn’t tell me about his other charge, the one before me. All I knew is that he looked after the Shriveled and Featherless, like me. And that his previous charge had died or run away. He wouldn’t talk about it, and it was the reason he was nearly revoked in his request for me. I came to him six years ago, I was seven.

I stood and walked to the village. The little village of Cliff Winds was a cluster of well-kept houses and shops on the edge of an enormous ravine. Houses dotted the countryside for several miles around this place. The town itself was a cheerful, lively place, and more wealthy than other towns its size. That was on account of the Ravine, and the people who work in it.

My race is that of the Carlillians, most of our people live on mountains and near ravines and canyons, of which our home is riddled. We are born with wings, I have seen wings feathered every color of the rainbow. Colored and shaped like a specific bird’s wings. But some unfortunate people have shriveled wings, misshapen lumps of skin and bone. Others such as myself, are featherless. Our bones grow at the correct size and shape, but we cannot grow feathers. Usually, people’s cloaks accommodate for wings, but if you’re like me, it makes no sense.

Your cloak tells about what sort of person you are. If you’re rich, poor, homeless, a worker, a traveler and much more. But that’s just judging by the state of your cloak. Certain cloaks are issued for certain jobs, and others are decorated with medals of accomplishment or heroism. I pulled my dull forest green one tighter around me, as I always did when entering the town. Many people here are kind to us who cannot fly, but it doesn’t make us any less self-conscious. I didn’t have any friends. Partially because I didn’t go to school with them, but mostly, they didn’t want to even meet me. Sure, people, my age would walk down the street, nod, and smile at me and continue their lives.

It was hard finding a job, too. Not many people wanted a slow delivery girl, considering I would have to walk or run to get to people’s houses. But I swept floors for several shops at one point. Before several winged applicants robbed me of those jobs. The one job I could hold onto was at the bakery. I didn’t do much, I swept the floor, dusted the shelves, and washed the display cases and windows. I stepped inside the bakery.

The sweet smell of Honey-cakes greeted me, as the bell tinkled as I stepped inside. Ceres Moonfeather, the owner of the shop bustled out of the kitchen. Most shopkeepers would be dissapointed that it was only the tidy up girl and not an actual customer. But the short, plump, jolly old lady was always glad to see me. She beckoned me into the kitchen. I followed and sat at my usual place. A wooden stool on the side of the worktable. She laid down a hot honey roll and a glass of milk. I smiled and bit into the warm treat.

“Thank you,” I said, with my mouthful. I swallowed. “You know,” I said, taking another bite. “Most people would be angry at me coming through the front door.” I washed the bite down with milk. “Even if I was a customer.” I paused in eating. “And then there’s you,” I said, remembering the phrase Plutus had used to describe me. She beamed.

“Well,” she said. “Thank you, dear.” Her eyes crinkled in the corners doubled as she smiled wider. “What do you think of the batch? I think they’re a bit dry, myself.” I bit into the roll again.

“I think you’re right, but honestly, it’s nothing a little bit of this honey glaze can’t fix.” I licked my fingers as I stuffed the last bit of the roll in my mouth. “Also-” I was cut-off by Ceres’s warm chuckle. She attacked my face and hands with a wet washcloth.

“You should really use a napkin dear,” I opened my mouth to respond, but she put up a hand. “You should also chew before you eat.” I smiled and did as she asked.

“What’s my assignment for today.” Ceres smiled and held up a bowl of freshly mixed dough.

“Making bread, I already mixed you the dough. Let’s see how you do all by yourself.” I opened my mouth in astonishment. I had never baked anything by myself before. Nobody would trust me enough.

“But what about sweeping?” She waved the question away.

“Oh, I can do that, I did it for years before I owned the shop. I don’t think I’ve lost my touch.” I put my dishes in the hot water in the sink and traded my cloak for an apron hanging on a peg. I rolled up my sleeves and began to flower my workspace. As I pounded and rolled my dough, Ceres looked concerned.

“Has everything been okay?” I looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. “You look like you’re taking out your emotions on the dough.” I sighed.

“I went rockhopping today.” Ceres dropped the broom she was holding.

“You shouldn’t have done something so dangerous!”

Rock hopping is an activity most people my age like to do. You jump between rock to rock and try to use as little wing flaps as possible. The hopping field is next to the ravine, where pillars of rock stand. I usually win the game because I can’t fly at all. But one wrong step for me, and I’m dead. To be honest, I’ve been going for quite a while, but I only got caught today. And now, I feared I would be banned from the game.

“I don’t know.” I sighed exasperatedly. “I just wanted to feel normal! To do something everyone else could.” I adopted a smug look on my face, “And win every time too.”

“Nothing with worth the price you pay, playing that game.” I lowered my gaze to the dough. She was right. Plutus was right. I sighed and we dropped the subject. Ceres’s medium-sized, honey-colored wings drooped a little whenever she looked at me. When I had successfully baked the bread, and eaten the first slice Ceres thumped the rest of the loaf and the two others I had made onto the table, wrapped in brown paper and string. I was ripped from my daydreams as the sound scared the wits out of me. I looked at her questioningly.

“Aren’t you going to sell that?” I asked. She shook her head and smiled,

“No, dear. The rule is, you bake it, you do what you want. You could sell it yourself, give it to me, or take it home. Whatever you want.” My eyes filled up with tears and I hugged her. I donned my cloak, grabbed my bread and ran back home to give Plutus a slice before it became cold.

The idea that I have for this story is waaay too long for one post. So I’m putting up at least this much for two reasons:

a. get feedback if ya’ll want me to keep writing it.

b. Get points for the CWWC

This is for the CWWC -2017, Challenge 5. For Team Half-Blood. I used all three prompts for this challenge. Let’s be lost.