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One could get close to heaven, close to the sun and where gods reside. But how far could we go? How far did we dare to go? I swung higher when he did, willingly taking on the challenge. Each muscle felt strain on grasping tendons as my wings worked to do as they had been bid. His feathers had brushed against my quarter, teasing me as I did him; tantalizing me until I nearly forgot that I was a warrior—a proud desert son. Instead I was just, Midas; his daddy.
Soaring higher still, one thrust, and two, and three. A cloud consumes me for a moment, and in that brief moment I am consumed by the cool wetness that soothes a warm hide—silence takes hold and his sounds of joy are lost. Then like a switch snapping back from a stray breeze, I fly out and up back into reality. But it is a reality I wish to never awaken from. Breaching the sky barrier was laughably easy, yet, it still gave me reason to pause. Posing with the sun at my back, collar gleaming brightly. Just staring at endless blue—endless space. A painter would be envious to see this natural palate; truthfully nothing could be more certain than these moments. These heartbeats. It was our playground after all.
Just as quickly as I rise, my wings tuck and I fall forward—lids widened only to see my son also diving toward earth. Like a falling comet I follow, stretching out to tag him in the back should he turn and see what was nipping at his tail. My lips are spread in what appears to be pure bliss, Fina is at my shoulder and for a moment it would seem this game of sky tag could last awhile longer.
How wrong I am. How wrong we are.
She notices it before me, being closer to our forefathers and the ancient magic they once held. Her breath comes out in a warning hiss, which is lost as I fall; then she screams through our bond—following a loud shriek that could pierce the drums of dogs. A cyclone was spinning up, and the sky suddenly seemed darker, colder. It was unnatural and the power it radiates makes my wings suddenly feel like they are being pulled off. Each shoulder strains and with an exasperated grunt I pull up and beat hard; ears had notched fully back and I can feel the wind start to change direction. Sucking me toward the spinning harpoon with a gravitational pull that takes my breath away.
“Cera?!” I hear myself scream, yet the rich tone is swept toward the spinning wind. A half moment later Fina comes blazing past, her wings are bent wrong and had been working on back peddling—but it was useless. She didn’t weigh enough. Her cries of distress snag my heart instantly and I fall forward, following her into the abyss that was growing higher with each moment. I can’t think, only act.
Somewhere. Faintly, I hear a child laugh.
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