Boreas: dreamteam + sbi

hold your arms high, proud.

the tall redwood trees blew their branches close to the tides. moon high and swollen in selene's heavenly night sky.

one boot after the other, crushing the soft soil beneath his sole, George had to keep going. keep pushing towards the end of the forest's agonizing hold.

The thick rims of his glasses were scuffed from the harsh twack of a few loose branches, no doubt left a scratch on his temple. he could feel it sting, wanting to bring his hand up to itch.

no sight of smoke. that's lovely, so how was he supposed to get out of these woods? he has a mission to take care of.

the clouded skies were grey and lowering, covering up the mountains from farther away, signaling rain. the speckled boy shrugged his backpack higher on his shoulders and kept walking, keeping his chin tucked under the thicker cotton of his grey turtleneck.

not much happened in the redwood forests, he knew. studying maps of the forgotten kingdoms helped him sketch out his own map; the one in his pack. he remembers his friend, a wind mage; wilbur, helping him map out villages , and local valleys he could stay at for only a few jewel. the taller of the two would smirk and ruffle george's hair.

" why are you mapping out the 7 kingdoms anyway, grog? the forrest could just swallow you up. who even knows what lurks there."

small, young wilbur, holding his little toddler brother in his arms. the blonde hair poking out through the blanket. their village in the plains were small, everyone knew everyone. at dusk the iron golems would close the gates, watch each perimeter cottage, and wait for families to tuck each one in. wilbur, was george's oldest friend. magic ran through his veins at such a young age. he lived alone with his elder adopted brother, who doesn't have a name. the boys lived alone, wilbur usually being the one to travel outside the walls of the small cottage. their family was a mystery, no one knew what magics tommy or the elder had, but wilbur made sure to be a perfect village boy; helping crops, taking care of cattle, even helping with the little kids' schooling.

the old stories say that their father was half elytrian, the gift to fly with huge wingspan. wilbur was the first born, and tells george all the time about the horrid fact that he feels like he let his father down because he wasn't born with wings, but his little brother was. he envied the small boy. bright blue eyes and blonde hair, contrasting will's dark brown. tommy looked so similar, EXACTLY like father. he'd brush the small golden locks, tears would slip out of dark honey eyes onto skin.

little wilbur kept tommy close, he couldn't leave tommy alone with the elder in the cottage. not that wilbur didn't trust his brother, but he likes that little tommy will let wilbur carry him around, and keep him safe. after tommy was born, their father was only around a few months before he left with no goodbye.

now that george thinks about his old friend, tommy must be 7 or 8 by now. has he really been gone that long?

" the forest holds the pyro lands, will. if i can just grab a little bit of it's ether, i can harvest it. it'll be easier to grab resources from the nether."

" i'd help, but... you know i can't leave tom."

younger george smiles, looking at the small baby in will's arms.

" i know, i'm not asking for your help, however, if it appears the clouds are too low on the horizon.."

" you want me to calm them, that i can do, brother."

they knew each other for such a little time, george being 18 and will 17, but they had a bond no other villagers could. even after george being gone for almost 10 years

will could always ride the clouds with his magic, even george being so far from home. half across the maps by now.

10 years, will should be at least 27. he's never heard of a mage strong enough to use his magic across the ocean. he tries not to think about that too much.