The week following the growth of Kir's wings went by too fast.
He learned very quickly that he wasn't quite ready to fly, and having a lot of trouble fitting into the front door meant that coming and going was a lot of trouble for him.
He spent a lot of time wondering how Maledict stored his wings away when he transformed, among other things. If it was an innate ability, he wasn't sure if he could figure out a principle that would enable him to copy it. If it was a magical ability, it meant that magic had far more influence over living matter than he thought.
In any case, he spent most of the week preparing to leave and eating - because gods had his appetite grown after getting his wings. Losing his "baby fat" had made him quite skinny, and, to his immense relief, eating what felt like four times as much as he used to wasn't plumping him up. Instead, he got taller.
Way taller.
By the time the day of departure came, he was a match for Darlae in height - even taller if one considered his horns. Brigit said he looked quite dashing, but it was a bit of a sore point with Darlae, who was very competitive.
Finally, however, the time came to leave.
Many merchants cycled through town on set schedules, and about now was the usual time of year for the circus caravan to depart.
Kir had always wanted to see it, but after getting stabbed he'd never had the nerve to try because of the trouble it could cause. He would have to go into town to check in with the caravan for the trip. His moms had signed him up as a guard, along with themselves.
"You know those are going to get uncomfortable after a lot of walking," Brigit said to Darlae.
"I can take it. Besides, I look fabulous," she replied, before stumbling a bit as her next step landed a bit off thanks to the ten-centimeter heels she'd affixed to her soft boots.
"It's not my fault I have that deadbeat's tall genes," Kir said, before realizing his mistake.
"Tall what?" Brigit asked.
"Err... blood. I meant blood," Kir said.
"How do you get 'genes' from 'blood'?" Darlae asked.
With a centrifuge, Kir thought to himself, before clearing his throat. "It's a bit hot today. Are you sure you want to be walking in those?"
"I am elfenin! I was born gracefu-wah!" Darlae tripped and fell on her face. Her heel had caught on a cobblestone, the change in road surface marking the beginning of town.
Kir looked up and saw a big sign that said "Welcome to Darlbridge." He suddenly realized he'd never come close enough to learn the town's name. And come to think of it...
"Mom... you said you helped found the town, right?" He looked at Brigit.
"Indeed! I was a battle mage, you know! There used to be a Hellgate here but with perseverance, I managed to close it without losing a single soldier!" She laughed haughtily as Darlae broke the heels off her boots.
"You mean you let me get chased around for half an hour by imps until you figured out where you'd dropped your mana crystal," Darlae grunted, resecuring her boots to her feet. "I suppose I was single at the time."
Kir ignored the mom-joke and pointed at the sign, "I meant to ask if you named the village after the two of you... combined."
Brigit blushed with embarrassment. "Is it that obvious?"
"Of course it's obvious!" He said.
Darlae looked up. "OH! Now I see it! That's why you sent me all those letters asking me to come visit!"
"And now we're leaving it behind, for now!" Brigit hmphed. "Kir, you're the only one in a hundred and fifty years to realize it to me. You can sit next to me on the cart."
"That's my spot!" Darlae complained.
"Your spot will be under me tonight if you know what's good for you," Brigit threatened in a low voice.
Kir blinked rapidly as he tried to wipe the last couple of seconds from his mind.
"Ahem," he cleared his throat loudly as Darlae started to flirt with her wife. "Can we just find the caravan..."
Darlae stood up and pointed into the village, towards the square. "Found it," she declared.
Near the fountain were about a dozen wagons. Several were piled high with folded tents while the rest were covered with canvas that protected their supplies or provided shade for passengers.
Kir marveled at the performers, who in turn marveled up at him.
There were acrobats and illusionists, beastmeisters and storytellers. No magicians, because in the face of real magic, sleight of hand was mostly the province of pickpockets and swindlers.
The Grand Meister, or Ringmaster to Kir's mind, met his moms at the carriage they'd purchased for themselves, along with a pair of draft raptors - giant birds that despite their naming actually fed mostly on fruits and berries. They reminded Kir of Sagittarius birds from Earth, only eight times their size and with thick, powerful legs. These birds couldn't fly, but they sure could kick.
He was trying to listen between the lines as the Grand Meister thanked Darlae for escorting his troupe once again, expressing effusive praise for Brigit as well because of her past.
Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to a pair of wings as a demonkin woman slid out from behind a cart.
Her wings were bat-like, but on them were painted feathers like an angel's wings. She also wore a white, flowing costume that complimented her sky-blue skin and had a bronze halo propped between her horns.
It took only a moment for her to notice him staring, and with a smile, she crossed the cobblestones between them, a light clopping sound telling Kir that she had hooves well before he saw them peeking from beneath her skirts.
"So, the rumors are true. There really is a devinen here."
Her voice was light and slightly breathy, with an accent that reminded him of irish. Up close he could see her eyes were a very pretty purple.
"I... uh... yes..." he stammered. "Kir, Kir Gale," he held out a hand awkwardly, taking a step back.
"Morn," she said, offering her hand delicately as if she expected him to kiss it. Instead, he awkwardly shook it. "Pretty wings... didn't know we had a kind that could make feathers. Got a little beastkin blood in ye?"
"Uh... I don't think so. My father's a dev- demon, but I guess my mom was an angel..." He scratched behind his pointed ear nervously. Why did he feel so awkward? "My wings grew in last night..."
Morn stared at him for a moment before she burst out laughing.