The vast Helovia canvas was drenched in the dark hues of night, the bright sun having sunk behind the western horizon long ago. The full moon shone from high in the star-sprinkled cloudless sky, bathing the bi-chrome Pegasus and his celestial blue roan guide in pale silvery light. An icy breeze caressed the stallion’s body, sending chills down his spine. Ebony locks brushed passed his eyes and whipped behind his back as the wind picked up its pace. Massive peregrine falcon appendages, outspread to their full wingspan, beat in a steady rhythm to mimic the strong air currents and push the winged beast closer to the winged damsel back-lit by the glowing orb in the sky.

The trees below that once were so dense not even a sliver of shining light could seep through their canopies seemed to be thinning out drastically since the beginning of their journey to the land that the star-clad femme called home. Drachen devoured all of the details of the land from his sky view, burning the various landmarks into his mind for later on. His battle-trained eyes skillfully skimmed the Helovian realm, absorbing the strange beauty in the scene below. A winding forked river shimmered like thousands of tiny iridescent crystals. The large boughs of ancient trees shivered from the harsh wind that plagued their bare woodland. The mountainous snow capped cliffs that stretched far above the leafless canopy were only a mere white smudge below the dark horizon. It was breathtaking. Bewitching. Divine. It filled the winged stallion with awe and left him speechless.

Drac suddenly pitied any creature that couldn’t view the world from above or feel the wonderful feeling he always got when he was in flight. To be grounded to the land would be revolting. How could one not want to spread his wings and take to the air? Becoming one with the winged creatures and view the world like they saw it? Entirely and completely feeling free from the earthly bounds that claim the flightless? Losing one’s wings would be like losing one’s freedom.

The thick forests soon turned into grassy meadows, and the grassy meadows into the dry clay of the dessert. He could sense the Oracle beside him slowing down. Drac followed suit, pinning his unusually large appendages to his sides and rocketing towards the red dessert below like a torpedo. The strong wind buffeted his body and stung his eyes; his long tail flapping behind him in obsidian tendrils and leaving him with the familiar feeling of his stomach plummeting to the ground.

The dessert floor came rushing toward the bi-colored Pegasus closer than he expected. The world flashed passed him like a blur, making it hard for him to comprehend when to stop his free fall. It didn’t help that it was nearly pitch black, aside from the silver orb that emitted a ghastly glow. Two massive sails unfurled from his sides, slicing through the blacked sky. Drachen immediately winced and cursed mentally, his wing muscles pulling back from the harsh air resistance they were met with. It felt to the brute that his wings were pulled from their sockets which, he realized, they probably were.

Casting a quick glance down, Drac could see the ground coming to meet him at any moment. Fear flickered in the winged stallion’s eyes and he froze for a moment before commonsense kicked in. He beat his wings twice, using all of his strength just to move the strained appendages. Hooves hit the dessert clay, his entire being shaking from the shattering force, before he strode off at a canter to stop his knees from buckling. Once the throbbing in his hooves ceased, the brute slowed his gait. Turning around, he neck to look above, waiting for the blue fae, tender wings held loosely against his flanks.