Helena rushed inside, closing the door quickly and loudly behind her. Vespera came ripping around the corner to see her collapsed in front of the door. Her wings were wrapped tightly against her body, and she was sobbing. Vespera dropped to her knees in front of her. 

“Hey, hey,” She said softly, lightly petting Helena’s wings with her own, “What is it? Take a breath, slowly; I'm right here,” Vespera said with a concerned undertone. Helena took a few minutes to gather herself, slowing her tears to soft streams on her face. Vespera sat quietly with her, not asking her any more questions. She knew her wife well; if she kept talking at a time like this, a divorce could be in their future.

“I was attacked on the street today,” Helena said in a raspy voice, “a man brought me into an alley and shoved a rag, or something, in my mouth so I couldn’t scream. He-” she paused to choke back more tears.

“It’s okay, take your time,” Vespera said lightly, sitting in a more comfortable position on the floor. She scooted next to Helena, wrapping her wing around her body. This visibly relaxed her, but she still would not unwrap her wings from around herself. How could she let Vespera see her this way? People already see them as lesser, and she doesn’t know if she could see her wife look at her the same way.

“He turned me around so he could take off my shirt. H-he couldn’t figure out the ties, so he ripped them off. Then he pulled my pants down and…” Helena began sobbing again, “and when she saw my- me, he called me disgusting. He threw me against the wall and was kicked me. H- he was blaming me–,” Helena was beside herself. Vespera was sobbing silently, wrapping both wings as tightly as she could around Helena. 

“The worst part was that I never tried to yell. I was stuck in my mind, screaming, but I couldn’t get a sound out. I laid there until it got dark,” Helena whispered to Vespera. 

“My love, I have no words. I’m so sorry this happened to you; it’s the most horrible thing I've ever heard,” Vespera said honestly, resting her forehead on the crown of Helena’s head. 

“I feel like he kept a part of me in that alley,” Helena whispered. They sat in this position for an hour before someone spoke again.

“Love, we have to go to the hospital,” Vespera said gently. Helena shook her head lightly. 

“You know what will happen if I go to a hospital,” Helena said, defeated. 

“I’m afraid of what you’re hiding under your wings, my love,” Vespera stated calmly. Helena pondered this for a moment.

“Take me to the bathroom,” Helena asked. Vespera nodded and stood up, her knees audibly popping as she did. She stretched her wings a bit before scooping Helena up in her arms and carrying her to their shared bathroom upstairs. She groaned at the sudden movement. Vespera gently sat her on the toilet, then turned on the light.

“Are you okay if I close the door?” Vespera asked. Helena nodded approvingly. 

She closed the door and locked it. Helena watched her as she walked briskly around the bathroom, getting everything she thought she would need to take care of her. How did she live her life before they met? She could hardly remember. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to her. When she first started her journey, it was bad. She would get spit on, pushed on the street, and kicked out of businesses. But this is the first time anything so violent has happened to her. Sometimes she forgot that the world was larger than the family that accepted her, but she wouldn’t forget again for a long time.

Vespera began to run a warm bath, checking the temperature while lighting small lanterns. She made sure to pull out a fresh towel and bathrobe, placing both on the counter. Also on the list was the first-aid kit under the bathroom sink. After all the lanterns were lit around the bathtub and vanity, she turned off the overhead light. Vespera paused and looked around before realizing she had almost forgotten to turn the water off. She turned to look at her wife.

“Are you ready?” Vespera asked gently. Helena stood up and slowly lowered her wings, revealing the bruising underneath. Nearly her entire left side was bruised, a deep maroon color. There were scratch marks on her neck and the inside of her left wing, where she lost some feathers. Her legs were worse for wear, as this was the first time Vespera realized Helena had no clothes, including no shoes. She walked home naked, alone, and afraid. Vespera began to cry again. Helena’s feet were bloody from walking, and her legs looked like someone was hitting her with a mallet. Vespera took a few deep breaths to calm down. 

Once again, without a word, Vespera scooped Helena up in her arms and gently placed her in the large bathtub. She grabbed a washcloth and, very slowly, got to work cleaning every inch of her wife’s body. By the end, the water was pink, and the only sound between them was the washcloth splashing in the tub when Vespa dipped it in. 

That had happened a year after their daughter, Elysia, was born, shortly after Regina’s funeral. She was perfect in every way, her daughter. She thought back to a few years ago. Before she met Vespera, she had flown for days. Her food and supplies were in short supply, and she had nothing of value to barter. After she graduated, she traveled right away without bothering to plan it.

Helena was born in Axion and is one of the few people who have seen the other side of the treeline. She never dared fly past it, but she stayed tucked into the treetops, observing from a distance. There was a city, and just barely within her vision were people. They looked different, large, with appendages she’d never seen. A man with thick hair covering his arms and legs. A woman with horns, or were they feathers? Why were they here? She wondered. In school, when learning about the war, they learned about the other side, how the people here before us migrated with Helion every five years, when it sets for two. Some people stayed in the light, some in the dark.

They declared this planet theirs, which was their right, but they were now on Terra, too. What they hadn’t learned was that these people were the same as them. Maybe they didn’t have wings, but they were hybrids of sorts. Hybrids of something, not birds or lizards. Maybe birds? Some had wings, but they looked leathery. She wanted to get closer, but for some reason, fear held her back. Travel between Axion and North Axis was common now, since many people have family on both sides of the border. But no one travels to Little Earth or Lumenfall; she must be looking at Grand Junction, the capital of Lumenfall. 

She often went back to the treeline, even after meeting Vespera. It felt good to stretch her wings for such a long distance, although she did feel like a voyeur watching these people from afar. She was just too scared to go in, although she wanted to. She just couldn't bring herself to cross the threshold. Sometimes she thought about flying north to visit her hometown. But there was nothing there for her anymore, she had no reason to see what she's already seen. 

Helena never went back after her daughter was born; it was too risky. The forest was guarded all twenty-eight hours a day, and although it was easy to sneak past them on your own, if caught, it was immediate jail time. The first time is overnight, and the punishments get more severe from there. Sometimes she thought about telling Vespera. She knew their wings would be enough to cross the distance of the trees, but what then? The native people of this planet hate them, right? They would never find true peace. Perhaps it wasn’t her job to wonder if peace was her responsibility. She wasn’t a soldier, and the second draft never happened. The war had ended, and those who were paying attention knew it. It wasn't dramatic; there was a peace treaty, and the countries are now comfortable in their boundaries. Five of them now: North Axis, Axion, Little Earth, Lumenfall (the city beyond the trees), and ThoDue. ThoDue was the newest, Little Earth gave them the marshlands since it wasn't useful to them. 

She loved keeping up with the news. It felt like Terra was constantly changing, both in people and land. The trees never seemed to play the same tune, the moons always different in the sky. She wished the people would change just as quickly. A flash of colors blocked her vision, making her nearly jump out of her feathers. She puffs up, spreading her wings instinctively.

“Whoa! It’s me, it’s Vespa. Sorry, babe, I didn’t think I’d get you that bad,” Vespera said, sitting next to Helena on the porch. She kept meaning to buy some furniture for the porch. She smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

“No, just lost in thought,” She responded.

“I didn’t know you could think,”

“I didn’t know you had a sense of humor,” Helena retorted. They both chuckled before turning their eyes to the sky. Sometimes she had to ignore the feeling that she was being watched, trusting that she was safe with Vespa. 

“I wonder what the view from Earth looked like. My mom said there was only one small moon, and it was always the same size; it only changed faces. And the sky was blue, bright blue, not violet. And stars, lots of stars.” Vespa said.

“I wonder how many she could see. More, I bet, if the moon were small enough.”

“I wonder how different Terra would look with only one moon.”

“How dare you, apologize to them.” Helena joked, staring at Tay and Kri, which filled their sky with a rare double full moon. It was so bright outside that it might as well be day.

“Apologize on my behalf, I don't think it would mean much from a nonbeliever.” 

“Any apology is better than none,” Helena responded. She thought about the moons. Terra was huge, and its moons were all sizes. Tay, the Mother, was large and always in the sky, with a slow orbit around Terra. Kri was the second, The Daughter, whom her religion Kriism is named. It was a medium-sized moon with an elliptical orbit, changing size often in the sky. Last was the moon, the Child. It was a small moon with a long, elliptical orbit and a fast spin, its face constantly changing and sometimes not visible in the sky at all. Helena spoke silently to the Mother, asking for help navigating her upcoming journey. She asked the Daughter to guide Elysia safely. To not endure what she had endured. No fear, only love.

“It's strange, isn't it? Do you think there are still people on Earth?” Vespera questioned. Helena shook her head.

“No, I think we’re the only ones that made it.”

“Well, we were the second to come along. More could come,”

“More humans?” Helena asked. Vespera pondered this.

“Do you think we can still be considered human?”

There was silence. Could they? Helena had never thought about it before. She looked at her wings, then to Vespas and back again. There were still people without wings, but if Dale were to be believed, that wouldn’t last forever. He thinks everyone will eventually have a mutation, that it’s the next step in evolution. To be forever changed. Then, would we, the ‘human race’ be human? Or something new? 

“I think we’re too stubborn to be called anything else,” Helena responded.

Everyone was huddled outside the door, whispering to each other.

“It’s going to be a girl!” Dale said.

“I want it to be a boy,” Geoff said. He had just started talking and was already a professional.

“I hope she’s doing alright. Geoff was a nightmare,” Audrey piped in.

“I’m not a nightmare!”

“No, but your birth sure was!”

“I remember all fourteen hours of it,” Dale said.

“It’s a girl,” Regina said casually.

“How can you be so sure?” Tristan asked.

“I just do!” Regina retorted. 

The bedroom door cracks a bit, and Helena sticks her head out, smiling brightly. Even after all this time, she couldn't believe how much her family had grown. All these people she knew would never leave them.

“It’s a girl!” She announced. There was a lot of excitement as everyone stood up and crowded around the door.

“Hey! Easy! Give her space,” Helena said as she opened the door. Vespera was spread out on the wide, round bed, only barely covering herself with a sheet. The doctor quickly retracted his stethoscope and stepped out of the way. In Vespa’s arms was a tiny, little baby, who already had fluffy gray feathers on her arms. Her tiny, little baby. Dale's eyes noticeably widen.

“Feathers?” He asked. Helena sat down on the bed next to Vespa and gently stroked her hair, which was a nest of its own.

“She’s perfectly healthy, just getting ready to fly as soon as possible. I’ll give you some time,” The doctor said as he went to leave the room.

“Thank you, doc. Can you believe it? No question if she’s got the gene,” Vespera answered. Regina walked to the side of the bed, using Tristan’s wheelchair as a support, and sat down to observe her grandchild.

“Oh, oh, I can’t believe I’m here to see this.” She said, tears immediately began to fall.

“Oh, Mom, please. I’ve been crying all day, and I’ll cry again. Here, hold her.” Vespa said, sitting up and gently transferring the chick to her grandmother's hands. She didn’t say anything as she took the baby, crying as she said hello for the first time.

“What’s her name?” Geoff asked, cranking his head to try and get a better look. Audrey grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back.

“Elysia Salvador-Valient,” Helena responded.

“No middle name?” Audrey asked. Helena and Vespera looked at each other and smiled.

“Mom?” Vespa asked. Regina perked up and wiped her eyes. “What was Dad’s name?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Clio? You know that,” She said. Vespera rolled her eyes.

“Charles,” Tristan added. He was crying now, too, understanding where Vespera was trying to take the conversation. “Clio Charles Valient.”

“Charles… Well, she's not much of a Charles. How about Charlie?” Helena offered. Vespera nodded her head.

“Welcome to the world, Elysia Charlie.”