II
The Head General
Men Za-Hel took a deep breath in, digging his talons into the dirt teetering on the edge of A’rôkell's cliff. His back turned to the drop behind him, he crossed his arms, closed his eyes… and leaned back. He felt the wind whistle against his ears, the feathers of his wings fluttering as he tucked them against his sides. As gravity's pull grew stronger, his feet scraped off the dirt, and he began careening head-first off the island, plummeting towards the ground miles and miles below.
A tempest of wind raged against him, refreshing his lungs in a way still air never could as he gleefully breathed it in. Seconds passed, and the boy picked up speed at a breakneck rate, tearing through space like a cannonball tossed by a frost giant. Men Za-Hel finally opened his eyes, and spread his wings. With a boom of sonic energy, he began soaring through the air with the full majesty of an eagle, the sudden stillness of the world around him giving an almost cathartic whiplash as he basked in the magnificent view around him.
He spent a few minutes like this, silently letting his wings carry him as he glided above, below, and between islands. Around him, he saw other Aarakocra also taking in the fresh air, sparring with each other, or simply surveying the skies for any Flightless that had stumbled off a cliff- as they had a remarkable talent for. He even found some Dragon tamers riding on the backs of their steeds, be they Flightless who enjoyed the convenience they brought, or Aarakocra who were simply passionate about the art of animal handling.
His people. The sky was as constantly breathtaking as it was because his people were giving it life.
After taking a quick pass through a waterfall to clean himself off, Men landed on the dirt of Tam Häaven, to finish pecking at his uneven feathers before shaking the remaining water off.
It was there that- as if she were expecting him, stood Kim Té-Ya; a pretty young thing he had been having a fling with for the last three or so months. Which- to be fair- for an Aarakocra, is pretty serious.
Kim held a sharp, cutting figure, her feathers seeming to point in one unified direction with intent. Men, though not by much, was a bit softer. Not in shape necessarily, but in texture. The feathers on his body, and especially his head, lead into one another in a slim, easygoing sort of flow- the latter of which he’d been told looked like a bristling fire.
Most Aarakocra, Kim included, had a small, natural eyeshadow tracing the lower edge of their eyes, perhaps stretching a small way to the side. Men, however, had a large, sharply curved triangle over his eyes, the center point stretching nearly to his cheeks, and taking up a considerable portion of his face. It was fairly unique, and, if he may be so bold, remarkably sexy.
Most races would say that Aarakocra look especially similar to one another. Fun as it was to call the sentiment bigoted, most Aarakocra couldn't help but laugh, and agree. Aside from the occasional sputter of yellow, brown, or black feathers, the rampant polyamory of the sky district has led to a fairly unified looking race of people. It certainly didn't help that they all practically wore the same thing, too.
Universal and mandatory enlistment in the army meant that every able-bodied Aarakocra was quickly familiar with the uniform of the sky district. The leather breast and backplate linked together with chainmail, iron shoulder pads, and leather skirt leading down to the unfeathered stretch of their legs. On slow days, or to sleep, soldiers would sometimes change into a softer, more comfortable outfit, but in general, fashion was not a part of an Aarakocra's life. It was an art, which meant it was a leisure afforded to those unable to partake in the typical military lifestyle.
Men smiled at Kim, still nervously grooming himself, feeling every lingering water drop hiding on his person.
"You always make such a show of your takeoffs." Kim teased, helping him brush off his feathers. "You know you don't have to hit terminal velocity to take flight, yeah?"
"You were watching me?" Men gawked. "That whole time?! That was- click- like ten minutes ago!"
"Everyone watches you." Kim retorts. "When you pull that shit, the whole district can hear it, people think you're a Flightless or something- ‘til they realize it's you. You're gonna kill someone like that, Men."
"Pssh, I know where I'm going." Men brushed her off, conveniently failing to mention that he regularly closes his eyes while dive bombing.
"You've already hit a falcon, boy."
"Well the whole district can hear me." Men grinned. "Should've seen it coming."
Kim laughed, and wrapped her arms around Men's shoulders. The two began trilling and nuzzling their heads together, the closest thing to kissing that a race with a beak can realistically achieve. As the two embraced, they heard the sound of flapping wings as someone else landed near them. They both groaned.
It was a remarkably common sound in the Sky District, but like an Elf recognizes their child's breathing, an Aarakocra will inevitably become very familiar with the sound of their father's wings.
"Happy to see you taking initiative, boy!" Rey Za-Hel laughed, as his talons touched the ground. "But we have tents for this, you know."
"Hello, Father." Men turned around to face Rey. "We're not doing anything like-… you- you know that. You do this every time."
Kim leaned to the side and smiled at Rey over Men's shoulder. "Hello, General!"
"Hello, Kim." Rey returned the smile. "And of course I know that, boy, it was a joke. Your tongue is even duller than your miserable weapon."
"Yeah- but my beak's getting sharper." Men grinned and glared. "Wanna see?"
"Oh-ho, there we go!" Rey laughed again.
"All jokes aside," Kim said, stepping out from behind her boyfriend to speak with the general directly. "If our relationship has offended you, I have no intention of overstepping-"
"Nonsense, girl." Rey waved his hand. "I'd be a damned fool to take offense to what my future daughter-in-law does with my son."
Kim blushed a bit. "Ah. That's… pleasant to hear, sir."
"Daughter-in-law, huh?" Men crossed his arms. "I don't recall asking for your blessing, Father."
"Blessing!? What are we, fish? I've had twelve wives, and I don't think my father even knew about eight of them. Honestly, I'm offended you're taking so long to propose to her. When did I teach my son to drag his feet?"
"It is rude to keep a lady waiting." Kim teased.
Flustered, Men turned his head back to Kim. "Don't you- trill- don’t you take his side!"
"Men, you're already done maturing." Rey said, hardening his tone. "When the time comes for you to challenge me for the throne, the only thing that could keep the people from wanting you is if you show no signs of trying for an heir."
"I don't need an heir." Men argued. "Anyone can be Head General after me."
"No, but they want one." Rey retorted. "They always will, Men. Lineage is easy. Simple. Reliable. We are creatures of spectacle- to wrest power from your father's beak is the kind of spectacle that will make our people see you. You're a man now, and a born leader. So you need to man up, and give the people what they want."
"We have time." Men said. "I won't be challenging you for quite a while."
"You make it sound like you're avoiding marrying me. Do I need to pin you down to tie the knot, Men?" Kim grinned.
"That's not what I mean- I- of course I want to-" Men stumbled through his words.
"We live short lives, boy.” Rey shook his head. “There's less time than you think."
"In fact," he continued, "I want you to accompany me for a meeting."
"Oh. Great." Men rolled his eyes, and started cracking his knuckles. "Lye Mai-Ra wants to strongarm you into increasing her island's budget? Sure, I'll help you kick her ass."
Rey shook his head. "No, Men. I'm meeting with King Rafael and The Ambassadors in the morning. I want you to stand by and accompany me."
Men Za-Hel's arm's dropped. Kim stared at him, as visibly nervous as he was.
"Oh."