"For Beauty, With Compassion, In Sacrifice."

 

A young sparrow fresh from the nest had begun her first journey into the skies. Being new to this world, and naturally curious in nature, she dove and twirled through the clouds, chirping happily at her newfound freedom. With the sunlight shining brightly off her wings and her song echoing through the air, she thought to herself, "How very beautiful I must seem, for how very beautiful I feel!"

 

However, the skies have never belonged to one bird, and soon another song pierced the heavens. Flapping his wings powerfully through the firmament, a parrot of dazzling colors soon joined the sparrow in her flight. With a click of a tongue against his beak, the parrot hid a smile at the sparrow's antics, as she sang, "Oh I feel lovely, look lovely, feel free. Oh how beautiful the world must be!"

 

"You silly little thing!" the parrot cawed. "You call yourself lovely? Look at your feathers!" And he laughed a haughty, proud laugh, as the sparrow gazed down at her humble, brown wings. "Silly child, you have much to learn about beauty. Perhaps in your nest, those wings looked fair, but there are many fairer than you in this world. Your dull colors shame this beautiful sky."

 

To add to his point, the parrot glided on his rainbow wings: the red, blue, yellow, and green colors shimmering in the sunlight. Ashamed, the sparrow brought her flight lower, landing by a lake.

 

"Well I may not be the prettiest bird, but my song cannot offend," she murmured, lifting her voice as she puffed up her chest. "The day is lovely, and so is my song, I could sing of this beauty my whole life long!" The gentle melody carried over the waters, until finally a swan appeared from the reeds, frowning at the sparrow's chirping. Preening at her pure white plumage, the swan haughtily looked upon the little songbird and scoffed until, confused, the sparrow stopped in her song.

 

"What is wrong?" the sparrow asked her audience, but the swan said nothing and began to preen herself with an icy aloofness. It was then that a little frog hopped to the sparrow's side, ribbiting quietly.

 

"Little sparrow," the frog whispered, "have you ever heard a swan sing?"

 

And, being young and new to the world, the sparrow shook her head.

 

"It is a rare and beautiful thing," the frog said. "A swan only sings just before they die, and nothing sweeter can be sung by any bird."

 

Greatly humbled, the sparrow closed her beak and bowed her head. "Oh..." How foolish she felt, continuously singing her silly tune when such a regal and mysterious creature drew near who held a song far more beautiful than her amateur lyrics could ever be. Staring at the lake and heaving a heavy sigh, she began her flight once more, heart sinking low

and her voice silent.

 

The dawn had ended long ago, and the sun sank now below the horizon as the sparrow continued her now fruitless journey. "Well, I at least have the joy of flight," she whispered to herself, and she beat her wings faster and faster, diving through the clouds into the bleeding colors of sunset. Her heart had just begun to flutter once more with joy, and she

caught herself before a pleasant chirp could escape her beak. However, it wasnt long until an eagle soared to her level, eyeing her curiously.

 

"What are you doing?" the eagle inquired, and afraid to answer, the sparrow murmured she was flying. "Hah! You call this flight? You are merely flitting about, awkwardly testing your wings. Let me show you what true soaring is." And with a powerful beat of his wings, the eagle cast a gust that knocked the poor sparrow off her current, causing her to fumble as he gracefully flew about the skies. Falling to the ground, the young nestling shut her eyes tightly. Surely, she would hit the ground, and with that she would no longer be able to embarrass herself so miserably.

 

However, she landed upon something soft and gentle, and with a quick peep she saw she'd fallen onto a young trill woman's outstretched hand.

 

Awkwardly mumbling her thanks, the sparrow shuffled about in the trill's palm. She was quite lovely by any standards, her wings glowing with lustrous hues and changing from the most brilliant silver to the softest of whites. In fact, it made the sparrow ashamed once more of her dun dull wings, and she hid her face in them in mortification.

 

"Little one, why do you hide so?" the trill asked her, and the sparrow sighed.

 

"I am nothing worth looking at. Oh, I am just a little hatchling, one who is ugly, sounds horrid, and can barely work her wings. No, the best thing for me would be to hide in the woods and never show my face again."

 

A gentle smile creased the trill's lips as she looked upon the quaking bird, pondering the fledgling thoughtfully. "Who told you those things?"

 

"The parrot, the swan, and the eagle. They are all ever so much fairer than I."

 

The trill's sapphire eyes twinkled enchantingly at that, and she said, "Do you suppose there is only one sort of Beauty in the world worth looking upon? Or that only the most heartwrenching of songs should be sung? My dear, you put ever such a burden on yourself." And confused, the sparrow cocked her head to listen to her rescuer, who continued, "Tell me, little one. Why do you sing?"

 

Shyly, the sparrow said, "Because doing so makes me happy."

 

"Ah, but that has nothing to do with being the best singer, does it now?" And here, when the trill smiled, the sparrow noticed something strange.

All the birds around her had drawn near - and she recognized the parrot, the swan, and the eagle as they joined many others around this woman who had kindly broken her fall. It was then she realized what they already had--and truly embarrassed, she covered her face once more.

 

"Lady Isune, I do apologize!" And blushing, she could stammer out no more. How very selfish she must have sounded, complaining of the very plumage that Isune Herself had bestowed upon her!

 

"Little sparrow, stop hiding your face." And, dutifully, the sparrow peeked over her wings. "You are no less fair than the falcon, the parrot, the swan, and the eagle. It gives Me great pleasure to look upon you, for it reminds Me of the day I painted you alongside My sister. We saw your Beauty then, and I see it now."

 

The sparrow smiled softly.

 

"And it would be a grave insult to Lord Lyreth," the Lady Isune continued, teasing gently, "to hide what I'm sure is a marvelous voice." And listening intently to the sparrow, the Aesthete coaxed her into once more puffing out her chest and beginning a series of soft, nervous chirps.

 

"Oh, the day is lovely, and lovely is my Mistress! What joy courses through me to stand before Her Beauty as witness!" The sparrow's voice slowly rose in volume, and became more bold at the Goddess's smile. The bird began to flit about Her, to flap her wings, to twirl and dive. "I love to fly, I love to sing, there's Beauty in my joy! No longer will I sit and hide, no longer am I coy."

 

The sparrow sang and sang through the dark and through the day, flying about as the other birds raised their voices with her own. In a melody so sweet that it inspired the woods to go still and listen, their choir resounded, until finally the small sparrow yawned and stopped, desiring rest.

 

"My dear," her Lady smiled, "you have done quite beautifully. Do you know why your song inspired the other birds so?"

 

Tired and unsure, the sparrow shook her head.

 

"It was your passion, little one. You brought the greatest love to your song, and there is no emotion that can be esteemed higher than that." The Aesthete ruffled the bird's feathers fondly and said, "A talent is nothing, dear. It means nothing to be the best, no, for talent alone does not inspire. It is love, passion and love of what you do that inspires and makes one beautiful. Do you love to sing and to soar?"

 

"More than anything in the world," the sparrow whispered.

 

"Then never silence your tongue nor halt your wings ever again." And disappeasing admist a wash of vibrant watercolours, the Painter of Skies faded into the aether, leaving the humble sparrow to serenade the skies for the rest of her days.