Wings of Doom

On a hot summer night, Fire ventured into the heart of the forest, searching for Wind at the place where they had promised to meet after their metamorphosis. Fire had always thought of Wind as a younger brother, and it had been four years since they’d last seen each other. Both had recently gone through their pupal stage, a time of transformation that all Hive People undergo. The air was thick with anticipation; Fire could hear only the gentle rustling of leaves and the sound of his own footsteps through the vegetation. Soon, however, he heard a faint sound—a cry echoing through the trees. Fire called out for Wind several times, but only silence responded.

As Fire walked deeper into the woods, shimmering rays of light began to pierce the darkness. He called again, only to hear a desperate voice pleading, “Don’t come! Stay away!” Concerned, Fire replied, “Why? Are you hurt?” Ignoring Wind’s frantic warnings, he pressed on.

In rare cases, some Hive People develop two pairs of beautiful, colorful wings after their second metamorphosis, known as the “Wings of Doom.” Once considered a bad omen, those who possessed these wings were often sacrificed in rituals. Over time, however, the Hive People came to accept this phenomenon, gradually learning to appreciate its mysterious qualities.

At the edge of a calm river, Fire finally spotted him—hunched over, hands clasped over his head, enormous, radiant wings emerging from his back and reflecting in the water. Dazzled and captivated, Fire called out, “Your wings! They’re incredible! Absolutely breathtaking!”

“Don’t look at me!” Wind cried. “They’re disgusting! Hideous! I hate them!” His voice trembled with anguish, punctuated by sobs.

“Wait, what? Things are different now! You won’t be thrown to the giant beasts!” Fire moved closer, kneeling beside him. “How long have you been hiding them?”

“Since I went through metamorphosis… but I guess I always knew… I always feared them…” Wind’s voice was filled with despair.

“It’s okay! Everything will be fine,” Fire assured him. “I’m here for you, and I’m sure the others will be, too.” Fire reached out to gently touch Wind’s shoulder, but as he did, he felt a sudden, violent pushback.

“No! You don’t understand! Lady Constant hates them! I’ll pray to Lady Constant until they go away. You have to promise me that you will never tell anyone! No one can know!” Wind’s voice broke with anger and fear, tears streaming down his face.

They never spoke of it again. Fire respected Wind’s wish, but he felt that was the moment their friendship began to unravel. He struggled to understand someone unwilling to embrace their true identity. A goddess who instills such suffering, he thought, is not a goddess worthy of devotion.

As the years passed, Fire watched Wind—once vibrant and cheerful—slowly consumed by bitterness. Fire found himself wishing Wind would reveal his hidden splendor, but that moment never came.

Looking back, Fire realized that being raised under the strict rules of the Great Order of Order meant that revealing Wind’s wings would risk everything—his social status, his relationships, and the very foundation of his beliefs. It was a testament to Wind’s unwavering faith and commitment to Lady Constant.

Perhaps Fire was wrong to assume he knew who Wind truly was. Maybe he had erred in not accepting Wind’s choice. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to be near the person Wind had become.