Don't Let Go (Third Book to the Other Side)

Chapter Twenty One (The Lord of the Sky)

The wind whistles through my scales as I soar through the sky, free at last. Despite months of no use, my wings know exactly what they need to do. As they carry me forward, a wave of strength and liberty surges through my body, destroying the last pieces of doubt and hatred I cling onto. The sky is contaminated by dark gray clouds threatening rain, just the way I like it. Lightning flashes every once in a while, followed by the rumble of thunder.

I used to be afraid of flying with the threat of lightning. It was dangerous. The quickest way to die. But that was before I learned how to master the storm. And now, the lightning is mine.

My wings cut through the sky as I spot the tip of a mountain slowly rising in the distance. It is the flight that matters more to me than the destination, just as it always has been. But I turn to land regardless, feeling the heart-racing sensation of freedom and power beginning to fade away.

My feet land against the rocky terrain of the mountain top, and my body begins to shift until I'm standing upright, my wings merely a shadow of their full glory. I glance around, stretching my arms. The static in the air around me is thick on my nose, so palpable I can practically reach out and touch it. The wind is still strong, playing with my hair and my clothing as I begin my descent down the side of the mountain.

I search for the tune that hides in the back of my mind, taunting me as I fall short again and again. Frustration ripples through me like waves. Where is the song? Why can't I reach it? I know it's there, in the back of my mind, but it won't come to me when I need it most.

The sound of my boots against the old stone reverberates against the mountain side, only somewhat a melody, but it'll have to do for now.

Power guides my steps down the mountain, the knowledge that I am the strongest thing in the thousands of worlds to ever exist. I open my wings wide, displaying that strength in the flashes of light that illuminate the webbing like a thunderstorm trapped inside of them.

But still, my hand reaches for the scythe clinging to my back. And I stop in my tracks, glancing around; I bare my teeth. I can feel their minds pressing against mine, their pointless hopes and their endless worry crashing through me. A bolt of lightning hits the sky at my frustration.

"I know you're there," I hiss, scythe warm and unusually heavy in my hands. "There's no point in hiding from me."

I hear their voices, dropped to a whisper. I can't make out what they are saying, but it doesn't matter. Predator doesn't need to know what prey thinks before it strikes.

"Fine," I say, flaring my wings. "I'll come looking for you." I always have appreciated a good challenge.

And that's when the thought breaks through.

Don't cry.

It takes me a second to understand. It isn't my own, and I know exactly who is repeating the mantra the moment it faded away. I stop in my tracks, mouth open, before I shake myself out of my daze and continue forward.

"I don't want to do this, you know," I yell. "I really don't want to have to get my hands bloody today. I'm not in the mood. Why don't you just come back later?" I ask, following the flares of their fear and their anger.

They've hidden away, turned themselves invisible, but it isn't enough to completely disguise themselves from me.

"Well?" I call, my voice practically yelling over the whistling of the wind as it surges past.

Don't cry.

The thought breaks into my head again, pushing itself against me with full force. Enough to make me stumble forwards a little. I spin, trying to pinpoint where it came from, but it's everywhere and nowhere all at once. I try to shake it away, but it clings onto me tightly, long after it had been plucked from the air.