The Skyflicks

“They were born from fear, not nature. And yet now they drink sugar water from our palms.” – Lyvistra Velmoré, former Duchess of Thorns

Day 1 – Project Initiation The war tightens its noose and our couriers fall like leaves in frost. Too slow. Too visible. The Duke has approved biological experimentation. I’ve acquired five nectar-drinkers from the northern grove—fragile things, barely thumb-sized. Useless in current state. But fast. Goddess, they’re fast. Initial hypothesis: If they can learn scent, they can learn intent.   Day 6 – The First Rewrites They don’t fight the runes as much when hatched inside the glyph-etched cage. Feather growth accelerated under sigil warmth. Two subjects display an affinity for color pattern shifts when exposed to ink vapors. I’ve begun imprinting them on specific voice frequencies. I whisper their names at night. One listens.   Day 12 – Message Capacity Established Hollowed clavicle chamber accepts rolled vellum. Weight negligible. Subject 3 delivered test note across the academy garden without deviation. She now waits by the window for the return sound. Loyal? Or conditioned? Subject 1 melted midair. Ink was unstable. I was unprepared for the smell.   Day 19 – Field Test Underway They are working. All five launched across enemy border under moonlight. Three returned within the hour. One carried a reply. I showed the general. He smiled with his teeth and not his eyes. He called them skyflicks. The name has stuck. It is hideous. They deserve better.   Day 43 – Modifications Escalate We are now ordered to make them deny capture. I laced the bone chamber with volatile rune-ink. When threatened, the flick twitches once—detonates the message inside it. The explosion is silent, but the feathers don’t fall clean. I’ve been dreaming of birds with teeth.   Day 82 – Trait Locking Achieved Memory pairing is now stable. A skyflick knows its sender and its receiver. It will not land elsewhere, no matter how it's tempted. Subject 19 flew through three traps. Lost a wing. She returned. She still waits by the candle where I first fed her.   Year 5 – Civil Restoration: Personal Entry There is peace now. I walked through the southern market this morning and saw a child with a skyflick on her shoulder—giggling, feeding it honeywater. They’ve grown smaller. More colorful. They hum when touched, no longer in pain. They do not explode anymore.   I suppose... they were never meant to be weapons. They were always meant to arrive.