#26 of 100: The Freedom to Soar

Aidan is trapped in a prison cell, but with his power to inhabit other animals he can still experience a modicum of freedom... As long as his jailers don't find out.

Photo by Bhanu Khan on Unsplash

Aidan soared through the cool evening air and cawed with joy. Here he was untouchable, a free spirit embracing the sky and gazing down on the city as if it were nothing more than an anthill. The fresh air was a blessed relief from the stale, mossy smell of the prison cell his human body was slumped in somewhere below.

A repelling bone had been placed outside his cell, ensuring no animal would come within several yards of where he spent his days. The lack of woodlice or cockroaches might have seemed like a luxury to most prisoners, but for him it only heightened his loneliness. He had been confined before, captured by mercenaries and chained in a tent along with other ne’er-do-wells, but never had a jailer splashed out on enchantments to keep even his spirit restrained. He would have been like any other criminal, confined to his human vessel, if it wasn’t for the tiny barred window at the top of his cell.

Proximity wasn’t the only way for him to inhabit an animal. With a great deal of focus, he could do it based on line of sight. His stomach had churned as he pushed through the invisible bubble of the enchantment, and he had dry heaved several times while fixating on the magpie that perched on a nearby rooftop, but finally he managed to make the leap.

The stalls at the marketplace were packing up for the evening, and Aidan swooped down to peck at some bread crumbs on the cobblestones. He squawked as he realised what he was doing, then fluttered to a balcony, shaking his head vigorously in a human-like fashion. Possession didn’t mean squeezing out the bird’s own spirit entirely. There was a delicate balance to be had, between acquiescing to the bird’s desires and imposing his own. Too much pressure, and the bird could fall ill, or thrust him out of its body. Too little pressure, and he could find himself pecking at dirty food or mating with another bird.

The desire to preen surfaced in his mind, and having resisted the crumbs, he gave into the cleaning. He enjoyed the sensation of ruffling his feathers, though drawing them through his beak was less pleasant. Once done, he gazed out at the orange sky, the sun now barely peeking out from behind the mountain range.

Something whistled past him. He hopped from claw to claw, but before it even occurred to him to take flight, something pierced his breast. An arrow. His tiny body shuddered with pain, and all he saw was the feathers of the arrow jutting out from him before his consciousness slipped out from the bird.

Aidan was back in his cell, splayed out on the cold stone floor and clutching his chest. He still felt the pain as vividly as if the arrow had pierced his own body. He took his hand away from his clothes, half expecting blood… But there was nothing.

He vomited. He was too weak to even lift himself up onto his hands and knees, so he lay there, letting the vomit dampen his cheek and trickle down the uneven floor onto his shirt. The stench reached his nostrils, but he lacked the energy to move away.

After a few moments, he heard the rattle of the cell door being unlocked, and saw the shadow of a figure cast against the wall. He forced himself to roll his body slightly and adjusted his head to look at the figure.

It was the head jailer, her thick arms folded and a malicious grin spread across her face.

“You think yourself better than others, do you? Think you deserve a taste of freedom due to a quirk of your birth? Well, a cell more suitable for your kind has just opened up. Guards! Drag him out.”

Two guards barged through to his tiny cell and hooked an arm under each armpit. As they lifted him up, he vomited again, and the liquid stained his threadbare trousers and dripped onto his bare feet. The guards jeered at him, then dragged him past all the other cells. Other prisoners rattled the doors as they passed, shouting out vulgarities. 

They led him down to the lowest part of the prison and thrust him into a new cell. It was windowless, and so small he wouldn’t be able to stand up straight in it. He saw streaks of blood on the floor, and his eyes followed the trail to see the corpse of a magpie in the corner. 

Then they locked the door behind him. Darkness and silence enveloped him. All he could focus on was the coppery smell of blood from the bird he had led to its death.

I never actually explain why Aidan is in prison - is that unnecessary information in a story this short, or is it’s absence glaring?