It stains my feather cape. Red blood seeping through my fingers, over the white feathers that change me from girl to swan.
A ragged moan from beneath the cape. Shuddering, I study the mysterious, wounded man beneath.
The mage’s badge glints from his blood soaked tunic.
Mage. Hunters of swan-kind, for our feathers give them power.
Conscience rages. Aid my enemy? He’ll slay me when he is well. Nay. Let him die, as his kind murdered my parents and siblings.
His eyes open. A startling blue. “Help. Please.” Like a child.
With a heavy sigh I prepare the healing magic.