How long had it been since that day? The day she tasted freedom for the first time, no shackles tying her to the ground both literal and figurative. Adela, the country she once called home was nothing but a distant memory in her head. It had been a century since she made her mark across the old stone, staining it a royal red. The image of his smuge face smeared across her brain, pulling her lips back in a silent snarl. That boy king didn't deserve what she gave him, no, no no, for what he did, he deserved so much worse. But what was done was done and Amut learned the hard way that history was written by the victors. Unfortunately, Amut was painted the villain of his tale. No, she is well aware that she is no hero, but a villain? No, not then anyway.
Pulling her expression back, lips pressed into an stern line. Her eyes opened as the sky danced in the delicate orbs, staring down from the side of the mountain, having perched herself in a small edge like a gargoyle. Charcoal hide melting her into the rock face as she sat in wait, but Amut was done waiting, done hiding like a rat in the mountains. Sure, she's ventured out, even having ventured as far as Essyrn rather recently, but Adela? No, no, no, that was forbidden territory in her mind.
Her dreams often stretched back to those simpler times among nobility and while she knew it was impossible to return to such a lavish life, Amut couldn't help but wonder what it looks like now after a hundred years. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but knowledge brought it back. Letting her self crouch, she sprung forward, leathery wings stretching out to catch the air and carry her wiry body out into the sky.
It was a long distance to travel to Ketra and while she may not have been raised in such a city, she can recall her visits with the king fondly. They ruled over a smaller territory, like a city state of sorts rather than Adela itself, but it's grandeur was not lost on her young self. She might not have the courage to return home, but Ketra? She was not afraid to return to Ketra, though it was no short trip. Three days by air. Growing hungry, she stooped so low as to steal a farmer's goat from under the cover of night.
As the third day began to wane, sky growing a rich orange in color, sun beginning to dip, her black silhouette bold against the bright colors of the sky. It was then that the city began to sprawl out beneath her, her own history washing over her, a sense of calm, a sense of home. Not for the expensive things and spoiling she received, but that feeling of family, the gentle hand of the king who raised her and taught her so many things in his short life, that is what she missed most. A father, a family.
Amut's slick frame came closer, circling the palace, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to see more and daringly came closer, flying down towards the entrance without a second thought to just who may be there.
