The Lights of a faraway village lights up the distant sky, a few white clouds moving lazily towards north, crossing land and water alike on its way. A mountain in the background reaches for the sky, moving beyond the clouds, the mountain, Shane knows from his geographic knowledge is far into the northern land called Aclil. It’s from the mountain range claimed by the mountain tribe, a barbaric people, with old, brutal traditions forged in blood by generations before. “One day”, Shane promised himself, “one day I will travel there, and experience it myself”. He then looks back down on the endless plains below him. To his right, a forest stretches into the horizon, in front and to the left, a grass plain, a few trees daring to grow their roots in the middle of it. Otherwise, the only oddity in the plains is a small pond only just visible in the distance, the moon reflected in the blue waters.

Shane sighs, then looks back over his shoulder, towards a small village just at the foot of the mountain he sits atop. The village, his village, seems rather nice from up here. The warm lights of streetlamps lit by lamplighters, long gone, back in their beds to once again sleep. Silhouettes of people still awake, seen through a few windows, and a low buzzing from ins, heard, even all the way up here, on this still night. But even though the village seems tempting from up here, the thought of having to go down there, repels Shane to utmost anxiety. The thought that, just maybe, his parents are still up, one of silhouettes in the windows belonging to either, just waiting to give him a beating for having been away for too long.

Nevertheless, he has to get home at some point. Shane gets up from his cross-legged position and stretches his body, his green shirt revealing a small portion of his well trained stomach, indicating the fact that it is too small for him. His brown pants too, fall a few centimeters short, and his boots well worn, squeeze his toes. The shirt sits tightly around his body, showing his features; a strong body, refined through years of hard labor all around the continent, doing all kinds of different jobs. Shane pulls the shirt down to cover his stomach again, since it’s too tight to fall down on its own. Then, he stretches his wings next. The coal black wings, each wing as long as he is tall, similar to what one would imagine to be an angel wing in black, only the feathers are more pointed and at the apex of each feather, if you look closely, is some red. Shane’s eyes, the color of which matches his wings -his hair alike-, searches the village for his home. It’s at the edge of the village, and after about a minute, Shane finds it -the lights seemingly not alit- and sets off the mountain top, diving with incredible speed, his fully extended wings, only slowing the speed insignificantly. Then, when the village is visibly growing closer, Shane begins flapping his wings, slowing down until he is still in the air, just a few feet above the roof of his house. The noise from the ins are louder, and more threatening. Two guys walk past his house, obviously drunk. They sway back and forth, using the width of the street to its full extent, laughing profusely. Shane looks at their backs, barren. By now, Shane should have gotten used to it, but he never did. The fact that he had never seen a person other than himself, to be anything but all human. Shane knew, since he had looked into it, among other things, that magic was a rare find in Azend, the continent Shane lives in. The continent Xiublux which is the biggest continent in the world, has a great fill of magic and non-human breeds. Some places on the continent has even been secluded as only available to people with magic and non-humans. “One day”, Shane thinks with a smile over his similar thoughts on the top of the mountain. “One day i’ll visit there myself”. But that day was not today, and so, Shane has to live with his current conditions.

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As Shane lowers himself to the ground in front of the entrance to his house, he thinks about tomorrow's events. Tomorrow will be the ninth time his father and he travels over to the capital of the eastern kingdom -the kingdom in which he lives in-. The town lies against the castle walls, some of it -for the people of higher society- built inside the protective walls. The town is home to a lot of trade and the central of the town is an open bricked plaza with rich room for putting up booths, for a small fee to the castle of course. Also, many people every week come by looking to recruit workers, taking them across the land, back to where they came from. These are the people Shane and his father are coming for.

Shane has by now, been to all kingdoms of Azend except the southern kingdom, which has just had a change of king, and is fighting a rebellion born from said acts. As far as Shane’s knowledge goes, the rebellion has taken a secluded part of the southern kingdom, laying against the waters and the eastern kingdom, only sharing a small entrance to the rest of it’s kingdom. It’s easy to defend, since the eastern kingdom is staying neutral to the whole charade, and the rebellion might go on for months still.

Shane sighs for the fifth time that day. He then finally gets it together, focusing on the matters at hand, and opens the door to his home.

The candles on the table have been blown out, the wax that not so long ago ran down the side of the candle cooled.