Free as a Bird

Kiana had been brought up knowing that, some day, she was going to get married. There was going to be vast amounts of radiant flowers blooming to perfection, singing, dancing, and above all, hundreds and hundreds of people. She would be clothed in a dress as light as spider's webs and flowing like the ocean. Her husband-to-be would be tall, handsome and loyal. His description was that of an adventurer, always pulling away and trying to be free. A Wandering Soul, as Kiana's grandmother put it.

Ilonya found out about his marriage three months before it happened. His father tried to keep it from him as long as possible so he would lead an innocent and hard-working life. Ilonya thought of his life as trivial and boring. He was supposed to learn Geometry and Geography and know facts about wars and disputes. Instead, he let himself roam the vast amounts of grounds his father owned. When he found out about his proposed marriage, he walked around the wooded areas for two days in a row. No food or drink was consumed and his face frowned with thought.



Kiana laid her hands out in front of her, palms facing downwards. She drew in a slow breath, feeling her body relax. Around her, scents of spices and herbs wafted over to her, dancing in her nostrils. She sniffed gently and smiled. The succulent mix of delicate herbs and sharp spices made her muscles relax and her body soften. She sucked in another breath and felt her chest expand with the sudden intrusion of air. She let it out gently and opened her eyes. The dark room was lit dimly with candles. Each was handmade by her mother, the wax collected from the bees in the garden.

Kiana carefully lent forwards and blew out the circle of candles. All that was left was a large, round candle that glowed red. She released a held breath and let her mind clear itself. Euphoria swept over her and she relaxed her face. A young, vulnerable face slipped into place. Her lips were parted slightly, and her pale skin was calm and still. Her brown eyes were closed, but her eyelids fluttered slightly. As she breathed, stray brown hairs were caught in the breeze and thrown back over her head, only to be sucked back towards her mouth.

The candle was the only measure of time as it burned deeper and deeper, creating a puddle of wax like a tear seeping from a closing eye. It was only when the flame had disappeared that Kiana reopened her eyes and blinked, looking about the room. Meditation was her release – it allowed her mind and spirit to be free and cut loose from her daily routine.

Kiana uncrossed her legs and stood, straightening her loosely fitted brown dress. She undid the ribbon in her hair and scooped her hair back up, tying it tightly in place. She dusted off her leg, watching the little granules of mud and dust float slowly to the ground. A smile slipped onto her face for a second, before sliding away. She stuttered and moved the curtain back to reveal the rest of her house. Her mother and grandmother were seated at the table, hands clasped around roughly made clay mugs. Kiana offered a brief smile before sitting down with them, taking the mug that was offered.

“How are you feeling?” Her mother questioned, looking her in the eye. Kiana knew she could hide nothing from the piercing gaze.

“Nervous…Apprehensive. Excited. Terrified” she listed, counting them off on her fingers. She gave a hasty smile, looking up from her hand. “I feel like I’m being thrown in a deep lake, only to find my lungs can’t hold any air. On the shore, I’m being cheered on and supported, yet I’m failing. I don’t want to ruin this for you, mother” Kiana sighed unhappily. She was overjoyed at the forthcoming events; excitement welled up inside her like a bubble. And yet, she had the feeling something was going to go wrong. Something terrible, looming, overhanging…She sighed and chewed on the inside of her lip pensively.

She jumped at the sudden weight on her hand. Her mother’s hand was resting on hers comfortingly. She looked up and saw a warm smile spread across her grandmother’s face. Kiana felt a drop of moisture seep out from her eye and a trembling smile spread across her lips.

“You will be fine” her grandmother croaked happily, patting her other hand.



Ilonya heard a knock at the door and hastily blew out the candle, rolling over to face the window. The door creaked as it was opened and Ilonya tried to make his breathing regular and quiet. His father called his name gently, waiting patiently for a response. When none came, he hissed again. Silence still met him, so he gave up and closed the door. Ilonya waited for a minute before sitting back up and breathed out heavily. He closed his eyes and leant his head back, feeling the strain in his neck muscles. A sigh escaped his lips and he opened his eyes, seeing the painted ceiling of his chamber. He knew he couldn’t stay in his room forever – time was falling through his fingers like sand, or water.

The stairs creaked at the sudden weight on them, making Ilonya’s father look up from the hallway. “At last boy!” he barked, waiting expectantly for his son. Ilonya stooped his neck and hid his face, too angry to say anything in reply. “I have your outfit ready, it will be waiting in your room” he instructed. Ilonya just nodded his head moodily.

A clap on the back of his head made Ilonya yelp and stand up straight, rubbing the place of impact. He glared at his father, keeping his lips tightly locked together.

“You are getting married, Ilonya!” his father shouted. Spittle found it’s way onto Ilonya’s face. “This is the biggest commitment of your life, tomorrow should be the happiest day of your life!” he said, his voice dying slightly. Ilonya met his gaze. It was pleading, anxious, scared, worried…Everything Ilonya felt. But most of all, it was hopeful. Ilonya chewed on his lip, thinking deeply. “Think about it, my boy! Committing your life to another, spending the rest of your life with this person…” he said, excitement rising in his voice.

“Exactly” Ilonya said quietly. His voice was hoarse and his throat was dry and scratchy. He looked up and saw the look on his father’s face. He couldn’t stop now. He was going to be gone, tied down, committed to another tomorrow. Why not say it? “My whole life you have held me back. You locked me in my room to stop me walking, you sneered at me when I asked to do something I want to do” he continued, his voice soft with anger. “I want to be free, father, I want to live a life of my own. I want to make mistakes, do right, help others-”

“But you CAN” his father insisted.

“No, I can’t” Ilonya said, shaking his head. “You have stopped me doing anything I have ever wanted to do. Please, listen to me. I won’t be happy. I don’t want to get married to a stranger. I want to find my own wife. I NEED to” he begged desperately, voice becoming higher and more frantic.

“No.” his father said bluntly. “It has been said for centuries that you are to marry this girl. It is said she is your soul mate-” Ilonya scoffed at this comment. His father went white with rage. “Go, now” he muttered darkly.

“It’s my pleasure” he shouted before storming off. His door slammed shut and Ilonya leant against it, feeling the splintery wood scratching him spitefully through the thin fabric of his shirt. On his bed, he saw the outfit that had been constructed for his wedding. He ran a hand through his hair nervously and stepped over to look at it.




‘This is perfect’ Kiana thought happily. The sun was shining down on her face, making her dress glint slightly. Pearls were embroidered down the length of light material. The beautiful dress had been unveiled to her the day before. It was exactly as she had been told and imagined. She heard the cheers of people and felt the lush green grass beneath her feet. She wriggled her toes and tried to keep the beam off her face. Bird sung in the background and the luxurious smells of flowers drifted over to her. She felt the warmth of her husband-to-be against her back, and realised this was exactly as it was supposed to be. An emotion she had not encountered before welled up inside her. She could not name it, but it was a mixture of excitement, nervousness and sheer happiness. She bit her lip and tried to restrain herself from spinning round and looking at him.

Ilonya felt his bride-to-be move slightly behind him, shifting the pressure on his back. Terror had struck him and he realised this was it: this was the last of his freedom. He realised his hand was shaking and quickly put it by his side, hiding it from view. He felt something slide into his hand and jumped slightly, realising it was her hand. She stroked his thumb slightly. He felt…odd. He suddenly felt more relaxed and less worried. He could not help himself frowned and chewing on his lip.

Kiana drew in a breath, closing her eyes slightly. His hand was strong and large, swamping her own. She felt suddenly apprehensive – what if he didn’t like her? What if he already loved someone? What is they weren’t soul mates? She tilted her head down slightly, clearing her mind. The vicar started talking and she got the not-so-familiar feeling that she didn’t recognise again. He nodded at them and she let go of his hand, turning round slowly.

Ilonya turned slightly quicker than his bride did. He saw her in slow motion. The sun made her brown hair shine glossily. It was long and curled and moved like liquid over her shoulders. She turned her head slightly before her body, and he saw her sun-bathed face glowing in the golden light. His breath was taken away at her beauty. Her deep drown eyes searched his for a familiar feeling or a sign that everything was going to be all right. Her clear skin made her lips redder, and the crown of white flowers emphasised her angelic look. He felt his breath stop as he looked into her eyes, squinting slightly.

Kiana turned her body fully towards him, drinking in every detail of his face. Tanned skin, long brown hair and green eyes. Oh, his eyes…Kiana felt herself sucked in as she desperately fought all of her senses. He looked past her eyes, searching for her soul. His hair was falling forward slightly, blocking his eyes. She raised a hand and gently swept it away. Her hand lingered on his cheek, feeling the soft skin beneath her trembling fingertips.

The vicar kept talking, but Ilonya heard nothing. He couldn’t draw his eyes away from her. She was everything he didn’t expect. He felt he knew her, like she was him and someone else all at the same time. Her hand stayed on his cheek and he felt warmth from her palm. Her other hand found his and he gripped her softly in his own. It was only when the vicar rested a hand on his shoulder that he realised there was a ceremony going on. His eyes watered as he kept eye contact with his bride.

“Ilonya Phariyas Rien, I join you to this woman with a bond so strong that no other can break it. To seal the tie, please place the ring on her finger” the vicar instructed. Ilonya felt the ring be placed in his free hand, and he let go of his bride’s, raising it up. He looked down at her hand and put the ring on just past the nail. He looked up nervously, watching for a reaction. She nodded gently and he slid it on the whole way.

“Kiana Mariah Filydan, I join you to this man with a bond so strong that no other can break it. To seal the tie, please place the ring on his finger” Kiana felt herself shaking as she let her hand drop from his cheek. Her left hand felt heavy from the new weight of the ring. It felt strange on her finger. She felt his ring drop onto her palm and she look down at his hand, holding it up. She looked into his eyes as she twisted the band onto his finger.

“I now pronounce you Husband and Wife,” the vicar said. The two people were deaf to the shrieks cheers and whistles of the crowd. Ilonya whispered her name to himself, leaning forwards and wrapped his arms around her small body. He tilted his head down and met her lips with his own. His heart hammered in his chest as he kissed her.

Kiana felt wave after wave of pure joy wash over her. His lips were still locked on hers. Her eyes were shut and she felt dizzy. The sun shone on them happily. ‘I am in heaven’ Kiana thought to herself. They broke apart and Kiana felt like bolts of lightning were flying from them, whizzing off to the Gods above. She looked shyly up into his eyes. Ilonya smiled down at her, his eyes sparkling. Kiana let the smile out from it’s cage – she beamed and beamed, leaning her head against his chest.

Ilonya let out a sigh, smiling to himself. She was perfect. She was his soul mate, he was sure of it. The prophecy was right – this was the person he was to spend the rest of his life with. He felt shaky and unsure of what was going to happen. The one thing he was certain of was that he was deeply in love with Kiana Mariah Filydan-Rien.