The Heart Of Asariel

3 || Duine

If any naive part of Micah had hoped the flight to earth would be easy, it was instantly stripped away the moment the wind smacked into him. When he'd been struggling to keep aloft at its surface, it had tugged at him plenty, but that was nothing like giving into its pull. This truly was a whirling storm that sucked him in, spinning him in dizzying circles as he plummeted downwards.

Any semblance of steadiness soon vanished entirely. This wasn't a flight at all. It was falling, endlessly, completely at the sky's mercy.

He made a brief attempt to twist around and catch a glimpse of Elysia from underneath, yet all he saw was an expansive white-gold blur before the wind wrenched him aside and he tumbled into another wild spiral. Gritting his teeth, he wrestled his wings tight to his sides, pinning his arms in beside them, desperate to regain some element of control.

If this was the sky's version of a dance, then perhaps he was beginning to lose faith in the art. This one moved swiftly and breathlessly, ten times the pace of any regular song, designed to sap energy and impossible to slip from.

Bitter cold shredded through him. His eyes stung. His lungs burned. He struggled to heave in a breath, the air brittle and fragmented, nothing more than a thin trickle. Black spots were beginning to creep into the corners of his vision. What would happen if he passed out now? What was the extent of the blood's protection? Would hitting the ground still hurt?

The pounding of his heart rose above the rushing air in his ears. He gave in, squeezing his eyes shut, no longer wanting to stare out at the nothing he fell into.

Time slid by in lazy drifts. All he knew was that, eventually, the winds began to calm, shifting from icy rapids to an easier current, until he found he could breathe again. He gulped in several lungfuls, sighing each one out with his relief, the courage finally arriving to open his eyes.

Beneath him, there was land.

His next breath arced into a sharp gasp. At first, all he made out was a glaring sheet of colours, silver and blue and red, until he blinked and the city began to take shape. Unlike Elysia's buildings, which were all polished curves and soaring rooftops, this place was littered with sharp, rusted structures, armed with a wicked glint akin to the point of a needle. And they were far, far more plentiful in number. The indigo hues of twilight formed narrow fractures amongst the city's cramped sprawl, almost dispelled entirely by the dazzling lights flooding from the taller buildings.

Realisation snapped through Micah with the crack of lightning. It was close, and growing closer by the second. He kicked his legs out, clawing at the air, until his wings finally responded and flung out on either side of him. His stomach dropped as he jolted, dragged to an abrupt halt. Bearing himself aloft felt near impossible after so long of giving in to the sky's wills. His wings trembled, exhausted before they'd even begun.

At least they were somewhat working. Part of him had become resigned to his descent concluding in an earthen crater. Pushing all his strength into his wings, he tilted them and dived towards the city.

His weight pulled at him, every beat too heavy. He quickly abandoned the idea of this being a flight, either. All he'd gained was more control over the direction in which he fell. He twisted towards the largest gap between buildings he could make out, squinting through the rapidly brightening red glare flooding from one side.

It took up so much of his vision that he didn't make out the horizontal pole blocking his path until it was too late. Panic spearing his shaky wings into action, he yanked himself aside, but the end of the pole still scraped his side, tearing through his tunic and leaving a piercing sting beneath.

He barely had chance to register the pain before the opposite building loomed into view. He didn't have time to dodge this time. His shoulder took the brunt of the impact, but he also felt his right wing slam into the wall, splaying at an awkward angle. There was no hope of recovery. He cried out, helpless as he tumbled towards the ground. He made a haphazard attempt to reach out with his legs, but his feet hit the path too hard and they folded beneath him, leaving him to land in a crumpled heap.