Man with the Wings of Ash

Chapter 1

It had been too long since he had his hair cut; his dark brown curls fell against his forehead. The cold autumn air flowed in through the window, biting against the young man's cheeks as he sat at the edge of the lone bed in the corner. Stumbling to his feet, he looked out towards the street below, the usually busy square was near silent. For the past few months he had surveyed the area, trying to blend in as best he could after making this neighborhood his home. True, it had been trickier than he first believed, but how did he anticipate Parallelans to live? He had been born in a wealthy family, but recent events had changed his living situation. He was on his own for now, being only able to afford an apartment on the slightly more run-down side of town. Despite all that, he kept up with everything: the rent, his odd jobs, and the school work he had taken up. He made no mention of this to anyone, but it was obvious that he was down on his luck. That did not stop many girls around his age who were constantly flirting with him, pining for his attention. He would simply turn away, disinterested in anything they offered. It was not that he was arrogant; he was raised better than that. No, the main reason was, there was another girl in his life already, and she was worth a thousand worlds to him. She just had yet to realize it.

He recalled sitting there in his room, watching her through the glass shard.  The black smoke had closed around her gentle face, suffocating her slowly, and leaving her in a crumpled heap on the crumbling floor. Red and orange pools of color danced around her wildly in malcontent, inching closer to her still body.  The sharp edge cut into his flesh as his eyes widened in horror. She was closer to the hands of death with each passing moment. Fear welled up inside him, his hand clenching around the shard of the Allgæt. He could not comprehend what had happened next. White light pulsed around him, the window before him opened as an invisible force pulled him through towards her. The descent towards the ground beneath her window seemed unending as the flames became more real and increased in temperature. Small embers flew out and threatened to bite against his flesh, leaving small burns on his arms. It took him a few seconds to realize what had happened. He had passed into the Parallel.

He pressed onward against the hellish teeth and up the stairs. Despite never having set foot into her house, he knew every inch of it. Wooden beams creaked underneath his feet as he darted faster; the splinters flying out a one of them broke in two. The hall was consumed around him as he ran to her room, pushing her door open, finding her passed out on the floor. He knew he had to act quickly. There was no way that he would be able to carry her down the stairs. He tore off his shirt and picked her up, the crumbling roof giving a way of escape. Stepping onto the fallen beams, he launched himself into the sky. The soles of his sneakers were slipping away as the rubber burned away, and the canvas around his feet followed suit. 

From above, he could see across the yard, the light from the house glowing violently upon the faces of those who had crowded around the front yard to watch the spectacle in fear. It was in his fortune that the smoke had risen and billowed, keeping his presence hidden. Yet, his concerned once more had turned towards her. He could sense her breaths and rapid heartbeats, telling him she was still alive. However, he knew she still needed a physician. He had floated on down amidst the bushes and trees of a neighboring home, nestling her amidst the low shrubbery. Stroking her cheek gently, he took in the moment.  It was the first night he saw her face to face in over ten years.

Despite knowing that she was indeed safe, he had not accounted for an ever-so watchful pair of eyes belonging to a curious five-year-old looking upon him attentively.  He had read in the paper, a few days after the investigation was put forth to find the cause of the fire, that the family was interviewed while the elder sister still lay in a coma. He recalls the younger sister's account,

"The man with the wings of ash saved her."

While most adults from the Parallel would dismiss her account as witnessing a angel, the truth was far more disconcerting. Yet, she remained adamant, claiming what she saw was no angel, but a mere man. It just goes to show that no matter which world you traveled to, a child in their own mind is unyielding.  

He sighed heavily as he looked out the window, stretching out his wings from his back. It had been almost two months since then and he had yet to go out again to stretch his wings properly. His muscles were already becoming sore from keeping them within himself -within the markings on his back- and he knew that sooner or later, he would have to make a drastic decision.  Yet, he already knew that if his father could see the mess he made, that the punishment would be worse than when he snuck a seven-hoofed-heifer into the Keeper's study. But in order for that to happen, he had to first worry about how to return to his home - to Lockhart.  

His fist met the brick wall, the sound of impact resounding faintly through the cavernous room. A soft trickle of crimson dripped down the wall.

"I am such an idiot." he muttered, grinding his  teeth together in frustration. While there had been many mistakes he had made in his life, this one took the cake. Time and time again he had gone to the rubble of her home, searching amidst what was left in attempt to find it - to find the shard of the Allgæt that he had stolen. In it held the key to his return. Were he not to retrieve it, greater threats than mere fire would await him.