by Kai Delmas
My father was an angry man. He took what he wanted, convinced it was his due for the wings he had lost. The power he had been stripped of.
Before dying he whispered in my ear, lips aquiver.
“The sky is your birthright. You’ll grow strong. Take it. Reclaim the heavens.”
I slid my blade out from between his ribs and looked to my mother. Finally safe.
Yet his words lingered, and as I grew and grew, I understood that I was special. That I could take what I wanted. But I didn’t want the skies.
I wanted the world.
Kai Delmas loves creating worlds and magic systems and is a slush reader for Apex Magazine. He is a winner of the monthly Apex Microfiction Contest and his fiction can be found in Martian, Tree and Stone, and several Shacklebound anthologies. Find him on Twitter @KaiDelmas.