25/03/2026
Wingless Birds: The World Of The Unusual
Chapter 1(There He Was)
One midnight in the western forest, the trees trembled, and the rivers rushed as Nadia, Queen of the Tigers, gave birth to two cubs—Bron and Brooke. At that time, Everett, the King of the Tigers, lay weak and ill, his strength fading with each passing day. Not far from the den stood Marcia, the firstborn princess of the kingdom, daughter of Nadia and Everett. She had once been the pride of the throne, but as the kingdom weakened, her father’s desire for a strong male heir had begun to overshadow her place.
Beyond the royal den, the kingdom was dying—the grass had turned pale, the trees stood bare, and the rivers were beginning to dry. Seeing the harsh world her cubs had been born into, Nadia knew she could not raise them both.
With a heavy heart and trembling breath, she carried one of the cubs to the river. Tears blurred her vision as she let go, watching little Bron slip into the rushing water and disappear into the unknown.
As the queen returned to the kingdom, carrying Brooke gently in her mouth, a wave of relief spread through the land. The animals gathered, their voices rising in celebration as hope flickered once more within the fading kingdom.
Nadia stepped into the royal den and laid Brooke beside his dying father. Everett’s breathing was heavy and uneven, each breath a struggle. Tears streamed slowly from his eyes, and yet, there was peace in his gaze—as though he had finally found what he had been searching for.
A faint smile touched the king’s face as he looked upon the cub. With the last of his strength, he whispered, “There...he…was, the one I always needed.”
In that final moment, he named him—King Brooke Everett II of the Tigers.
Then his body fell still. His chest rose no more, and his eyes slowly closed as his soul slipped quietly into the silence.
They prepared the king’s funeral with great care. His body was laid gently upon a towering pile of wood at the center of the kingdom. The air was heavy with silence as the flames were lit, rising slowly before roaring into the night sky.
As the fire consumed the pyre, the entire kingdom cried out in unison, their voices trembling with grief and reverence:
“Rest well, our king. May the gods receive you.”
The flames danced higher, carrying his spirit beyond the forest, as the kingdom mourned the ruler they had lost—and the uncertain future that lay ahead.
