Claws and Feathers

I returned home late that evening after training. Tethir was determined that I should acquire a good technique with my father's sword, so he drilled me relentlessly in a clearing by the stream for hours at a time. I found Agroth in the kitchen, musing over a large book with a cup of tea held between his gnarled fingers. He looked up at me as I entered, sweaty and bruised. The corners of his mouth curled into a weak smile and his eyes crinkled affectionately. 'Where are they?' I asked. He pointed at the door to his back with a thumb and resumed his reading. I dumped my bag and the sword beside the entrance and, in three steps, covered the distance to the back door, which led to Agroth's little garden.

I found Elion and Zoe whispering to each other, cross-legged on the ground amongst the bellflowers. I immediately knew I had walked in on something. Zoe had her back on Elion's chest and they had both turned their heads hastily towards the door as they heard me coming. Elion was looking guilty and my sister had turned scarlet. 'Well?' she said scathingly, 'What do you want?' I suppose I was a bit dazed. I mean, it's not as if I hadn't noticed before that there was something going on between them, but somehow I had dismissed the idea, as If I didn't really believe my sister could feel anything. Thinking back on it I felt quite stupid. 'I, er... nothing. Just wanted to check you were home. I'll go upstairs now.' Elion got up and brushed the grass from his trousers 'Yes, we'd better go and help Agroth.' Zoe, still on the ground, had turned from looking embarrassed to looking angry. 'No, Elion. Stay. Matt was already leaving.' He hesitated, looking from Zoe to the house, avoiding my gaze altogether. I quickly turned back towards the kitchen door. Elion must've followed, because Zoe was straightening up and shouting after us. 'You had to barge in and kill it, didn't you Matt!' I turned, annoyed that I'd gotten messed up in her problems. Suddenly I realised I was angry too. The subconscious thoughts I had been avoiding about her relationship with Elion rushed forward in a chaotic torrent. 'I couldn't care less what you do, Zoe. Don't take it out on me it's never going to work out. It's not my fault he's four times your age.' Admittedly, the elf didn't look about to turn eighty, not by my mortal standards anyway. Nevertheless, I had touched a nerve. That was the thing that had been gnawing at Zoe's insides ever since we had arrived at the elven capital.

I watched my sister seethe in silence, as she glared at me with such fixation I felt she would surely bore a hole into my forehead. Maybe I had gone too far. Elion seemed deeply ashamed, and not at all his confident self. Before I could say any more, Zoe launched herself at me. As if in slow motion, I saw her hands leave the ground. As they did, a dark coat of smooth hair sprouted from her arms, pads appeared on the palms of her hands and her fingers contracted to furry stubs, tipped with cruel, curved claws. Even as I witnessed this extraordinary transformation, a magnificent black pelt had replaced my sister's clothes, and her legs were now the hindquarters of a powerfully built feline, springing from the ground as they propelled Zoe forward. A long tail swept the ground when she pounced, and her jet black hair swirled around a fearsome –though unmistakably human– face. I remember seeing a pair of great wings burst from her shoulder blades as she swooped down on me, showering the garden with feathers.