Sword Mountain by Nancy Yi Fan

“Why are you?”
    â€œFather called me in,” he said simply.
    A glumness, like a dew-weighted spiderweb, hung in the dark gap between the two brothers. Fleydur listened to Forlath’s breathing: in and out, in and out....
    â€œHow is Father? He hasn’t talked to me the past few days,” said Forlath.
    â€œHe’s better,” said Fleydur.
    â€œGood,” said Forlath. But Fleydur knew he had something more in his heart. Somehow it seemed that Forlath was afraid to say what had prompted him to come searching for Fleydur in the first place.
    Fleydur decided to ease the awkwardness. “I haven’t seen you much either. Haven’t been at the castle,” he said.
    â€œYou haven’t been,” agreed Forlath. “Mother was thinking over it.” And Fleydur sensed a tenseness that he had never associated with his younger brother before.
    â€œI see,” said Fleydur. “Want to go up to the base of Sword Cliff? Just like the old days, nobird but us two.”
    Sword Cliff, that pillar pointing to the sky, seemed to be waiting for the two brothers to come to its base. From afar it looked a needle in the night, sewing stars into the sky. Once below it, however, its size and magnificence brought to mind a sacred staircase bridging the world above to the mortal world below.
    At first Fleydur and Forlath spoke no word but simply gazed at the cosmos, feeling the wind ruffle their feathers.
    â€œTell me, Fleydur. What have you been doing?” asked Forlath at last.
    â€œI’m going to … build a conservatory, a music school, on Sword Mountain,” said Fleydur.
    â€œA music school?” Forlath’s voice shook as if discussing contraband. “What do you mean for it to do?”
    â€œChange things,” said Fleydur. “I will go where no eagle has ever dared to go before: anybird of any species, of any tribe, can attend if they love music, for free! It’s a school where a valley eaglet won’t feel bad. And once there are birds here who know how to sing, they will be able to use the Leasorn gem to summon Swordbird, the hero who helps others in need. I’ve already located building materials, found a good place midslope, and I’ve sneaked a load of music instruments into my room. I’ve submitted the paperwork. I just need official approval.”
    But Forlath wasn’t listening. “Anybird can attend?” he repeated. He squinted in the dark at Fleydur’s face, to see if he was serious. “You know what that implies? Great Spirit, Fleydur.”
    â€œFather allows music, didn’t he say so?”
    â€œA song or two, yes. Not a whole school. You can’t. The court, the Iron Nest, will raise havoc! And my mother will be furious, aghast.”
    â€œI’ve traveled enough to know that this is what Sword Mountain sorely needs.”
    â€œBut your plan would defy nearly a chapter in the Handbook of the Feathered Aristocrat .”
    â€œWhat, you too, Forlath? The dotards who print that book spend their days cultivating a protruding stomach rather than a logical mind!” Fleydur threw open his wings. “Tell me, what wrong have I done? You tried to stop me from saving Dandelion, and now—”
    â€œNo,” said Forlath, pained. “We’re just … we aren’t ready for radical changes like this, Fleydur. Not yet.”
    Fleydur stepped away, his sides heaving in the darkness.
    Forlath followed. “Fleydur, listen to me. I am your brother, not your enemy. I’ve been at home ruling on Father’s behalf all these years you were away, and I understand the court better than you do,” he whispered. “Your dreams, they’re too idealistic for our kingdom. You can’t tackle all the injustices of the world.”
    Forlath squatted besides Fleydur. “I think your vision of a music school—well, it’s like flying, Fleydur. We need to test the air and