the Wind Dancer

It didn't take long for the island to be discovered by others.

Slender limbs traversed the lands, my wings sometimes stretching out from my sides to revel in the sensation of the high-altitude air combing through my feathers without the effort of travelling, flying, working to get here. I enjoyed the sensation of being amongst the clouds, of feeling very much like a cloud myself, carried by the whim of the weather, the wind, the sun, the atmosphere of life dancing all around me. The air swirled, filling me, its cool touch bouncing from wall to wall of my hollow insides. I had thought about what the God of the Sun had said - his words filled me again now, as I bathed in his warm light.

My eyes followed the trails of others, who arrived by wing or cloud, and I stood apart from them all - unnoticed, unseen, blending with the background that was the sky all around us.

I was immobilised by those I recognised.

They were the same, but different. Grown up, time had aged their bodies - as it had aged mine. Some had companions by their side, others did not - it sent a strange feeling whirring around inside me. I recognised the gold-trimmed form of Midas, the pale beauty of Sohalia, the comforting grey tones of Africa (even as she appeared to be a parrot, I seemed to simply know), the looming figure of Hector. There were plenty more I did not know, did not care to know - I felt pulled towards those who I knew, those who I yearned to call my family once more - why hadn't I realised this yearning existed before?

It had happened before, when I saw Rasta, I remember. I had been glad to see her, well, alive. I didn't know what to expect when I came back. I didn't know whether I was coming home to a land ruled by the dead, or if the living would continue to do just that - live.

I was the only one dead left from those times.

I recognised others, others whose names were not fully imprinted upon my mind, but their faces were clear enough. I breathed in, slowly, and then out my breath again, deciding to finally take a step forward, to be less invisible and to begin taking part in something. I don't go out of my way to cross paths with them - already I feel my heart beat pick up with the anxiety of meeting any from our past.

Sitka, I miss you.

I turn my attention to the turtle - I had seen stranger things happen - happily blocking out everything else. The thought of a race, a physical activity to distract me, was a welcome one. My ears pricked up at the idea, my eyes filling with that electric excitement that thrummed through my veins. Flying, and fast, was something I could do.

My broad wings were not built for agility, though I trained them hard, it was long distance where I had the advantage. I looked to the sky, to the trail of rings that glistened against the sky. A smile, filled with the delight of a new challenge, a new goal being laid before me, crossed my maw.

The turtle shouted his command, and in a flurry of wings, we all took to the skies. I felt the wind follow me, I felt it fill my wings, stroke my mane and tail. As I raced towards the first ring along with the crowd, I let out a song of joy, a song of greeting, a song of living, delivered to the ears of all those around me. No matter the outcome of today, I would remember this day, as one where I came just that small step closer to rejoining the land of the living once more.

Sitka, guide me.