one sword out of many.
The point of no return had never been an enemy of his until now.
He felt it for days now. It constantly edged him forward, southbound and over the great peaks of the Arma Mountains. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, but he knew that this endless yearning to belong again would cease the moment he arrived. So he pushed on, recoiling from the uncertainty in his every step along the way. He would never doubt that tearing his roots from the ground of his homeland had been the right choice, but it seemed to be leading him nowhere. Of course, going back was not a option, but then standing still would be just a lethal.
Damn that soothsayer for pitting him against ambivalence and conviction. He shook his head as if to shake away the thoughts and pressed on. He started down a path that had become deeply entrenched from heavy traffic and relentless rainfall, his footsteps sinking in to drowned clay with every step. Well-worn paths usually lead to some point of interest. Not this one. His rugged trail eventually came to an edge and then curved to trace the mountainside. From there, it only grew more narrow until it connected with a freshly faltered mudslide that still trickled with rushing water. He frowned at it and dropped his ears back, visibly annoyed.
It was rather symbolic for his current state of being. Going nowhere. Standing at a dead end, forced in to aimless wandering which was a rather new concept to him. Blyse exhaled, and then stepping over to the edge, the stallion dived over the cliffside. He plummeted for a moment then unfurled his wings to catch some lift and then leveled out with a single pulse. Two or three more and he was surging upward and in to the low hanging clouds.
Now this was clarity.
South of the mountains he could see a vast lake, like an ethereal mirror of the lavender and orange-hued sky. Beyond it lie…a city? From this distance, it was hard to tell for certain but he would know soon enough. At last, a true heading. He did not know what he expected to find there. This wasn’t a battle, the outcome wasn’t black and white. This was chance. This was gamble. This was entirely out of his comfort zone. All he could do was what the white mare told him to: pray. Resolute, Blyse descended in a spiral, dropping in one wing and letting gravity tug him to the earth.
Then he hit the ground running.
@Acton // or whoever you fancy to bring :DDD
