Chapter 2: Chapter 1

Jane

 

I was not a beauty.

I wasn't one of the coveted girls in my flock.

Not one of the beauties that the boys looked after and which the other girls looked at enviously. Not one that everyone wanted to kiss.

No. I wasn't. My hair had turned grey early. I was born with light brown hair, but I got my first grey hair when I was five. Mousy gray. My hair was thin, but very long. I tied it up into a thin braid. Even my more-than-pale skin seemed a bit grayish. And my wings? Also mouse grey, with some light mud-brown. And my wings were always messy. As if I was flying through a storm. Almost everything about me was grey.

I was a gray mouse. (With wings.)

Normally, harpies got their first gray hairs, around their one hundred and fiftieth year of life. Not at five. Our aging process slowed down greatly from the age of eighteen. Why my hair had turned gray so early, nobody knew.

But what I really liked about myself were my light brown eyes with golden specks. My great-grandma is said to have had such eyes and I was so happy to inherit them, even though my parents both had bright green eyes. But apart from my eyes, I was the most unimpressive girl in the flock.

We built our nests, basically simple tree houses, on the tops of the tall trees of the mountains we called our home. We spent most of our lives in our trees or the air. We lived for the heights.

On the top of the highest mountain, was our holiest place. Here stood the statue of the first harpy. Our sanctuary.

From there, she watched over the flourishing of the swarm.

Our life was simple. We hunted small birds, mice, and rats. Sometimes even small deer ended up on the menu. Otherwise, we lived on sweet berries that grew on some bushes. Our bodies were made for the air and trees. And for hunting. We had feet like birds of prey, with long claws. And our legs were long and strong. On our backs, we wore our big wings, with which we glided through the air. And our eyes were extremely good. Even from high above we could discover a small mouse. We also had short tail feathers that helped us keep our balance on the branches. We saw ourselves as the greatest birds of prey among the seemingly human beings.

Our claws were sharper than any knife and we could carry twice our weight with our strong legs. Our wings were strong and fast, and our bodies robust so we could fend off attackers.

Once a month we flew up the highest mountain to thank the first one for another happy month.

We lived in family groups, as most harpies were not necessarily monogamous. Fixed pairs were very rare. Like my parents. We were one of the few families who moved into a nest on our own. Harpies were a free people. Free in everything: We did not believe in solid relationships (couples were of course free to choose this path), possessions, or envy.

Most people my age were now interested in everything that was part of love. Harpies loved. But love was free. Harpies shared. Most of them at least. My parents saw themselves as firmly connected. They did not desire anyone else, but that was their decision. Of course, this was respected.

It all seemed very strange to me. The constant hunt for kisses and affection. The eternal dance that some harpies seemed to perform.

Instead, I wondered what the world had to offer. That was much more interesting to me than the search for love. I only knew our mountains, the river where Kelpies lived, and our forests. And then, of course, there were the dragons we sometimes saw. Black dragons roamed our country from time to time. Sometimes also to hatch their eggs. We stayed away from them. Black dragons were very dangerous. But when they attacked us, we were very well able to defend our swarm and our nests. Only one fool messed with a flock of harpies.

But I wanted to see more. Besides, nobody was interested in me and that was fine with me.

I was sitting on one of the branches in front of our nest and heard my parents having fun with each other. Maybe I would get a sibling soon. From somewhere always came the sounds of a happy, busy couple. This was normal here, although occasionally very annoying. Like at this moment.

A few teenagers chased each other through the air and shared kisses. I watched them in annoyance.

"Jane!" My best friend Rosalie flew up to me. Unlike me, the eighteen-year-old was a true beauty. Colorful wings, black, thick curls, rosy skin, and dark green eyes with blue specks. She could be envied. "Oh! Are your parents blocking the nest again?" She landed next to me with a furrowed brow while we could hear my mother asking my father to, well, make her a small harpy.

"Again, yes." I rolled my eyes. "Where's Falk?"

You are reading story Harpy – The Flock at novel35.com

"Oh, Falk! He tried to charm a pretty harpy with golden locks. Presumably, at the age of seventeen, he will be a father already... The boy has only one thing on his mind!" Rosalie snorted and sat down next to me.

Falk was, next to Rosalie, my best friend. These days, however, it was difficult to spend time with him, as he ran after every pretty pair of tail feathers. No matter if a girl or a boy. It was not said that he would become a father. That was just Rosalie's favorite joke. In our forests grew a herb that could prevent unwanted children. The herb was used to make a very popular tea in the swarm. Of course, I hadn't drunk it yet. I didn't need it.

"So? What's the plan for today?", I asked. "Please tell me you have one!"

"That's what I was about to ask you. I miss Falk! He is the genius with ideas. Without him, we are two real, miserable bores!" Rosalie leaned against me. Our wings touched and I enjoyed the warmth. "Remember when he wanted us to paint his body so he could impress one of Harper's daughters?"

"Oh yes! That was funny. Neither of us is a good artist. He looked terrible!"

"And he didn't impress his lady either!" Rosalie giggled. "She saw him and started laughing."

"But Harper's son... Or when he wanted us to spy on the white dragons... The flight to the dragons takes a few hours!" Our mountains bordered the mountains of dragons. But it was a long way to their caves, and you still had to pass the area of the black dragons. These were vicious monsters that could eat small harpies for breakfast if provoked. And they were loners.

"And then the Kelpie thing!" Rosalie sighed. "He really wanted to ride one. All he got out of it were wet wings and an angry Kelpie trying to bite him. We had to pull him out of the river... Without him, it's terribly boring."

"Maybe we'll have to come up with something on our own?", I declared to the tune of my rejoicing parents.

"And what?"

"Do you still have some of the colors?"

Rosalie grinned. "Yes. I still have them. Why?"

"Shall we pay Hailey a little visit? At this time she always meditates, right? To speak to the first?" I had an idea. It was probably a terrible one... But it was an idea.

"And what do you want to do? I don’t know. Hailey scares me when she's angry."

"Maybe we'll be able to paint her wings while she meditates. After all, she claims that her mind would then be complete with the first."

Rosalie shook her head. "We could get into a lot of trouble for that! Her wings? They are sacred to her! You know how vain she is!"

"Then let's hope she doesn't catch us!"

"Oh well! That makes it challenging. I like challenges."

So that was the plan. We wanted to play a little prank on Hailey, our shaman and Harper's almost partner.

"I want a whole stable of harpies!", my mother shouted jubilantly. "Yeah! Keep it up!"

"Honey!", we heard my father call breathlessly. "I do my best! I make you proud! Today is the best day of my life! I love you!"

"Talk less, do more!", Mom replied. I rolled my eyes.

You can find story with these keywords: Harpy – The Flock, Read Harpy – The Flock, Harpy – The Flock novel, Harpy – The Flock book, Harpy – The Flock story, Harpy – The Flock full, Harpy – The Flock Latest Chapter