Avalon

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Time To Go Home

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Pick me up off of the desert, 

feed me water, walk me through the hills

Wait on 'til the sun shines upon us, 

as we cross the haunted hills

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The time flies by like some beetle buzzing by in a hot summer day among blooming flowers and spinning bees as if there was nothing more exciting to happen.

Noel hates that. It's what will bring him back to the place he sort of hated and people he most definitely hated. But he's not what one would take as ungrateful. On the contrary. He's more thankful than one can imagine because the people he hates also is the ones who gave him second chance at life and didn't give up on talents and skills that were blooming inside the man.

And he wasn't late in life yet where he'd decline the chance he got.

But he could be happier if he truly wanted instead of moping about until he flew out in the vast space and did his tasks and went on patrols.

But that was after he literally fought sandstorms on vast desert land among other troopers and skipped many rockets that zipped past his left flank and bloomed into fascinating fireballs upon meeting dried out sand or random rock.

He's swept through all the dust dancing in the sky fearlessly and calculating narrowly avoiding another incoming from other side and looped above the scaredy bush waiting for rain to come so it could once again blow up all the pent up energy into thick green leaves and as the puddle at its roots turned into river stream sway into the winds.

The man wasn't numb yet. He's done more than once was predicted upon his health. Noel always did more than was told he could. And so far it's been fantastic.

After one fight was done he got his rewards and took off to have next one. Only that wasn't of enemy looming in the distance.

Rainstorms of another time and life and different crafter he borrowed to dance along the lightning strikes and booms of thunder. He let his bottled up emotions run free while the thunderstorms unveiled their rage upon him and land below. And there he let his rivulets of impulse swirl like raindrops within black clouds allowing a moment of serenity flow through his veins like liquor from his secret cabinet.

The flying has always been in his blood and if only he was a bird. If only he was like one of those kids that had actual wings growing out of their shoulder blades. But Noel was not that kind.

He had little memories from the place he came from but the ones he had were always filled with thrill that came from flying or using his ability to make jumps from tree to tree to chase Nate around the woods.

Their leader always let them have some fun and since they were boys it usually included some activity which brought out their unusual abilities and secretly held as a training.

But why'd he be attached to those memories and not any other? Well to say the least who'd want to remember the gruesome part.

Tortured and continuous mind control and among that psychological programming or reactions control. They all went through worst and came out the best.