Vhalar 20th 719
-‡-The gloominess of the weekend finally ended. The clouds had begun giving way to the brightness of the shimmering orb high in the skies that offered it's extorting rays of heat that blasphemied the concealing layers of drifting dulling colors that floated so high above that at times even Coroth knew they should not be reached. There were times, when they'd drift low though, low enough that he could fly to them, and hover in the skies along side them as their appearance and form would shift.
Even now, as the waning clouds were receding towards the horizon, he was in the skies, nearing one the looming cinereal apparitions. It was larger than himself by an immense proportion, and as he neared it, one end of it began to form into some demonically shaped head. A head that began to look towards him passingly as it continued to drift within the empty void of the sky. For the cloud drifted slowly onwards, being sent passing over the forested lands below by a wind that swept through the feathers of his wings at different angles that shifted their degres continually as these moments continued.
His chest was breathing in the same wind, dousing his lungs with their fill of cool, chilling air that bled well into harvesting muscles and bones beyond hi thoughts with each of his enthralling breaths. Breaths that sent the same air, the same winds throughout his bloodstream and even his mind. It was already speaking to him in a sense. Dismally before the winds shifted, then wailing quietly with whispers that it was here to destroy. As if drenching the earthen grounds below would ruin the beauty of the earth to those who appreciated the look of it whilst in the basking illumination of the brilliant orb far beyond the skies above. Or, in the least, Coroth mused, it would destroy ones mood with such gloomy surroundings.
It was with discipline that he restrained himself from leaving the skies entirely. The cold winds were becoming a challenge that he was overcoming. For as he continued to spend time with it, in the skies, chasing down such apparitions that he was being led to believe could be a spirit of an elemental. Or perhaps the cloud itself was a more lucid form to see it in. As he chased after it, and listened to its wind driven whisperings as well as full out blowings into his ear of words and prolonging syllables, he began to understand that it was chaotic in nature, and had a mind for melancholy. The lengths of his hair had entered a state of dissarray behind and around his head. The winds sending it continually whipping and snaking behind his head to lick at his pristled neck where his armor did not conceal his flesh with its vise of protection.
The threading beatings of his heart hammered against the muscles containing his chest as he pursued the shifting apparition of the cloud still further. Seeking to reveal the plight of why it was so chaotic in nature. So of a mindset to destroy those below them, and whether it would destroy him as well in some manner. Discipline was used, keeping the muscles along his back aching with a need to endure this flight even longer.
It was then, that he began to speak with it on another level, in another manner. The winds giving in as he maintained himself as its company. For the spark inside of him was known to the winds, it was now though, that he was being insistent to speak with it. Then, finally the winds bellowed through the air that they would not be so cruel with him if he claimed the winds as his kin.
Kin, something that he thought of as the avriels elsewhere in the skies, and the lands below, well out of view of where he flew, yet still relative of him through blood, and the traits they shared through birth.
Yet here he flew, with the winds batting against the underside of his wings, pilfering and tugging at the sleek liniatures of each individual feather that were so light in weight, and kept him in the air, coating their undersides with the winds passage to keep himself in flight.
To be kin with it, with the air that was already passing through and along the frail wall of his feathers like the blood that was within his flesh. Like the very air that he was breathing in, and drawing throughout his physique as it coursed through his bloodstream with each passing beat of his stalwart heart within. Perhaps, the air was more than kin to him already, there would be no denying that it should be welcome to claim the elemental as the same. To proclaim to it that it would be the one of four that he would be spending his time with more than any of the others. Even fire, the most preferred by so many.
It was thus, through weavings of his thoughts, of his voice shouting out into the skies that deafened his tone with the roar of the air that passed beyond his ears as he flew onwards. It was in those moments that he shouted out that he would indeed make it his "kin". His voice, was heard by his own ears, and ears alone echoing through the currents before him. As if the voice itself began to weave, and interlace with the currents that he flew to pursue. Currents of wind that he relied upon to remain in the air so high. The vision of the currents intermingling with the words that were proudly sworn through his vising lips were swept onwards, and into the hovering cinereal that he was in pursuit of.
It was as his declaration, melded, and interwoven as it was reached it' smokey residue within the air that it seemed to fade into its darkened mist. For a moment it was as if it was suckled in to its very essence like smoke by the lips of an inhaling human. To be listened to, and absorbed by the spirit of air that it was. The cloud then shifted in the air before him, for brief moments, the darkness of the cloud, shifted partially into a near figure imitating that of a humanoid. Something of like shape to the avriel who had spoken to it in its trail beyond.
An avriel whos eyes sternly watched the elemental form into something he could recognize, a creature that had a dense rise of horns, and a maw with sharpened ends . The conjoined clouds began to sprout forth a slow formation of wings, similar to the ones that were upon Coroths back. As if seeking to be of kin with Coroth as he sought to become kin with it. The wind still a continual cold abatment against his stoic features that were perhaps even now reddened from the chill.
It was then, that Coroth felt his endurance beginning to give in. For it was not often that he flew so high from the lands below. Flew so high where the clouds were many, and the air was not so thick to breath. He looked upon his newly claimed "kin" for aid as his lungs clamored for breath, and he sought aid in keeping himself in flight, his wings begrudeningly began to give in with the lack of such breaths. The muscles at his back aching all the more as they're weakness was finally exposed against the fighting use of his disciplining will. As the lining of corded muscles along his back uniting them were felt like sheer rods of steel that soon would not be his to use to keep in flight any longer.
Perhaps, he had overstepped his abilities to fly in keeping up with the elemental to make such a pact with it. A pact that he looked longingly towards for help as he began to fear for himself. In the following moments, his discipline gave out, for it was still weak and in need of structuring. His wings were felt slackening behind him as they needed to rest from such extrenuous use in the chase.
It was in the following moment that he felt the winds quickly swarm over him. The feel of them being woven along his wings at angles that sent them back into the air as if by a force beyond his physical abilities. As the spark within him became versed with the spirit of the air that merged within him through his every breath. It knew where his weakness was, and where to fill the space beneath and along his wings so he would not need to use his strength to fly as he began to fall.
The fall was dreaded in those moments, for he was not a master of flight either. Even as an Avriel born with wings. Coroth had not spent such a length of time in flight, so high in altitude as he was now, with such an insistance to catch up with the clouded apparition. It had drained him more than he had anticipated. For he flew routinely with the those of the shadow wings on patrols. This though, was more intense.
In those following moments, his spark was felt merged with the air around, and inside of him. And he began to discern that it was cooperating, if not doing as his thoughts knew it needed to do to keep him flying. It was in those moments, that he felt himself beginning to figure out how to weave the air to his whims. It was with further disciplining, that he fought against his fears that seemed to bite, and nip at him with its pull of weakness and plightings to seek his fall from the skies.
It was with the remaining threads of discipline within his mind, that he began to coerce with the current that was his as an avriel to see. It was these currents of air that continued to blow towards him, over him, and along every muscled curve of flesh of his physique with its chilling essence. A chill that sent his flesh trembling in further interpretation of being cold. Or perhaps of the kindling with the air that was so new to him as an experience.
As the next few breaths passed from his lips, he would find himself no longer needing to use his strength to remain in the skies. The interweaving's of the air carressed along his wings in manners that kept him in flight instead. A carress that was most welcomed, and filled him with pride. He had all the time he would need to relinquish himself over to the spark within him as he flew now, to meld with the winds that would keep him alive in the skies so high above.