63. Flying Lesson Plan (2/2)

Solonell City was indeed almost entirely empty. It wasn’t a particularly bustling place to begin with, certainly not when compared to Chrowall, but it looked almost entirely abandoned in its current state.

After spending so long beneath the red tint of the tournament field barrier, the red sky was less off putting than usual, but the weird hodgepodge of architecture was still plenty disorienting.

Isaac frowned, glancing around. They were in a “square” surrounded by buildings, except it wasn’t really a square because nothing was laid out that neatly here. The road beneath them formed a twisting, curling shape that vaguely resembled a flower. It was probably one of the prettier strange street shapes of Solonell City, though it was no less suspicious.

Rosalinde was finishing up rewrapping Olzu’s bandage while Aster paced around, taking in the surrounding buildings and red sky with distaste. Isaac supposed Solonell City was about as far from the Woodlands as you could get; at least the Inferno had stone walls, which was kind of like nature, and the Abyss was so empty that it couldn’t actually be the opposite of anything. Actually, now that he thought about it, the Graveyard was probably the most purely opposite, and given what the fey thought of the undead, well. It made sense.

The fey turned around, and her green hair clashed rather terribly with the color of the sky. “So? How’re we doing this?”

Isaac turned to Olzu, who was inspecting his freshly bandaged leg with gratitude. “Olzu? Uh, how much about flying do you know?”

Aster snorted. “Damn, you really went into this with no preparation.”

Isaac didn’t bother responding. In his defense, it had been a spur of the moment idea, and apparently Olzu liked it enough to go along with it.

The demon fluttered his wings a few times. “Well,” he began, then stopped and started again. “Well, I know the theory.”

Aster raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh, and have you actually flown, tiny demon?”

Olzu bristled and shot a glare at the fey, crossing his arms and puffing his chest out. “I have! It just…didn’t go very well.”

“Yeah? Does that have to do with those small ass wings?”

“Hey, stop being so rude.”

Aster ignored Isaac entirely, and he briefly wondered how she was friends with Yarrow. Sure he hadn’t spoken with the other fey much, but they’d seemed like a much more reasonable and friendly person.

Rosalinde, thankfully, actually knew what tact was. She hummed lightly, then to Isaac’s amusement, proceeded to ask the exact same question except phrased better. “I’m not the most well versed in demon biology, but would it be correct to assume your wings are a bit smaller than is usual for a demon of your kind?”

Aster shot the woman a glare, and Rosalinde just gave her a friendly smile.

Olzu turned to look up at Rosalinde, and the haughtiness dissipated in favor of something more nervous. “Uh, yes, it’s a bit like that.” He coughed. “They’re a bit…smaller than normal, so flying takes more effort.” He began to do the hopping thing, then glanced at his bandaged leg and visibly forced himself to stay in place. He cleared his throat. “The first time I tried to fly, I. Uh.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“It didn’t go well?” Rosalinde said kindly. Olzu nodded and stared at the ground.

Isaac did the same, though not for the same reasons. The hard stone streets were probably not the safest place to practice flying, in hindsight. Falling here would…not be very pleasant, and falling was likely if Olzu was as out of practice as he claimed. He said as much to the rest of their odd little group, and Olzu looked slightly terrified when he look down at the ground again. Aster snorted.

“Guess you should’ve thought of that earlier, huh?”

Isaac narrowed his eyes, but held himself back from retorting. It was easier than he thought it would be to restrain himself; in his teenage years he definitely would’ve snarked back four insults ago, but maybe dealing with people like Fable had improved his overall patience. It almost made him want to laugh, that it was only after Lloyd was dead that he ended up improving what his brother saw as his “worst trait.”

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside. He was thinking an awful lot about the past these days. He tightened his grip on the tablet, then loosened it. Usually he was better at staying focused.

“What if we moved to the Woodlands? We could practice over the ocean or something.”

“No!”

“Absolutely not!”

Aster and Olzu both yelled at the same time, and Isaac sighed. Okay, that one was clearly out. Olzu looked sick at the thought, which at least answered a long held question of Isaac’s about whether or not demons could swim. Aster, on the other hand, looked offended that he dared even suggest such a thing. His mind drifted back to that merfolk, Seaton. The two halves of the Woodlands got along even worse than he’d thought.

“If I may,” Rosalinde interjected, “I believe I may have a solution.”

Isaac turned to face her, curious. “What is it?”

The woman just smiled and took a step closer. She raised a hand, and her palm began to glow a soft silver.

A familiar disc of light formed from that origin point and gently drifted downward towards the earth, where lines of light spread from the place of contact and began to draw an intricate pattern across the ground. Isaac’s eyes widened, not because he hadn’t seen Rosalinde use her “repel” ability before, but because this magic circle was far, far larger than anything he’d ever seen her create before.

Now enlarged, he realized that the pattern in the center of the circle looked a bit like a butterfly. He watched as those silver lights continued to trace out the design until the circle was complete, glowing and rotating in place on the ground. Rosalinde lowered her hand, but the glow remained, steady and constant. The circle illuminated the surroundings in a soft, gentle light, and as Isaac took a step closer, he realized that the entire area of the circle, which was about 10 feet wide, was emitting a gentle repulsion force upwards. His eyes widened, and he tilted his head back to see how high up the magic ended. The light reached about 20 feet into the air before it faded entirely.

He wasn’t the only one impressed, because when he glanced to the side, Aster had stepped up and plucked a blade of grass from her scalp. It hardened in her hand, forming a sharp, knife-like weapon that she threw into the circle. Once it passed through the border of silver light, it slowed down and drifted upwards, pushed away from the ground, so that it hovered gently above the earth. Aster let out an impressed whistle.

“Not bad,” she said.

Rosalinde laughed, though she didn’t take her eyes off the circle, the glow of magic remaining constant and steady. “Thank you.” She gestured at Olzu, smiling. “I believe this should make for a suitable practice area. It’s impossible to fall within those bounds, so you can freely improve your flying technique without fear.”

Isaac chanced a look at the small demon, who was staring into the silver glow with a look of wonder. He could’ve sworn the demon’s eyes were sparkling.

“It’s perfect!” he exclaimed. He took one step forward, paused, then another more hesitant one followed.

“Go on,” Isaac said, attempting to sound as encouraging as possible. He could see Olzu inhale and square his shoulders. His wings flapped a few times, at first in small, jerky movements, then they smoothed out slightly into something more constant. The demon scanned the silver light one more time, then stepped into the circle.