Storm clouds gathered around Gaiceranes’s weathered mass, swirling and rumbling like the tormented beings of those devoured by the Nether Dwellers. Its haunting beauty reminded Reial of the World’s Throne during the stillness of winter. Perhaps it was because of their near-divine origin that reminded them of a better world that once existed. Of a time when Nether Dwellers didn’t exist, and people didn’t war for lost ideals.

Wave’s wings cracked as they lurched up, raising up on a draft of air that brought them closer to the Remnants peak. The icy-blue dragon’s scales were cool to the touch, radiating an aura that was like that of the first winds of winter. Aunesfern, his home. A place where his heart had never settled. What makes them happy here? Reial wondered as he glanced at the distant dim palace and the surrounding rings. What makes them belong?

Was it wrong of him to want what they had? To unfairly ask them to share their secret. Would it make any difference in his life?

“It’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of such a view,” Linithesis commented.

“You’ve been this high-up before?” Reial asked.

“Yes.”

“So…you could fly?”

Linithesis chortled. “Something like that.”

“What were you in your first life?”

The Pneuma’s voice thrummed harmoniously with the rumbling of the clouds. “An animal akin to Yusjek. A salamander, if you would.”

“And you had wings?” Reial had trouble imagining slick slimy feathered appendages sprouting from Yusjek’s back.

“No, nothing crude like that.”

“But you said that you could fly.”

“Not entirely.”

“Then what?”

“It doesn’t matter, Reial. Enjoy the scenery while you can. It’s a pleasantry few can afford.”

Reial reluctantly withdrew from the Pneuma’s presence. He knew better than to argue or go against his wishes, but he hated being left unsatisfied. Were his questions not good enough for him? He immediately shook the thought from his mind. Linithesis wouldn’t be so heartless. Not after his kind speech and viewing the iridescent white light that was his being. How could something so bare, so pure, so loving veil such insidious intent?

He ran his hand along the smooth railing of the saddle as he stared at his reflection in Gaiceranes. Despite its state of disrepair, the Remnant’s glassy surface perfectly reflected the brooding sky. Was it perfect because it could still hold its image, or because others believed it was still admirable in spite of its condition?

The world came to a grinding halt as he summoned his Veil Sight. His reflection stared back at him with those same red-eyes, unsure of what to say or think. Could it hate him? Could it love him?

Perhaps it pitied him instead. Why did he deserve either or after bearing witness to his past actions? He wasn’t intelligent enough to avoid or solve them. He was only him, so he smiled.

It was good enough for Linithesis and Charette, but what about him? Could he convince himself that it was genuine?

Without warning, the world was drained of its color. The shock caused him to lose his hold on his powers, returning Yushiloc to motion. No, not again. He didn’t want to hear those cries. Those desperate screams, their heart-shattering pleads for help. Why did they call for him? Didn’t they know he couldn’t help?

However, no cries came, only a soft whimper. He glanced at Charette and Kaval, finding them unaffected by the alien situation. Their bright clothing and hair standing out among the black and white. Then he saw it. A terrifying golden light that twisted and bent around the weathered Remnant.

Blood-red light poured from its gashes, creating the image of an infinite spiraling glare. A third light surrounded it, suppressing the burning presence that threatened to burst and incinerate everything in its path. Golden hands tore desperately at the white light, screeching for absolution as their claws wounded the light further.

Reial tore his gaze away from the terrible light and stared at his ever-trailing reflection. The dull figure a stark contrast to the icy-blue dragon it rode. It watched him intently, never begging, never crying, but only asking one question: Why?

Plastic memories burned in his mind’s eye, reminding him of who he had been. Of whom he had tried to revive; a recollection that could never be. His aspirations were nothing more than a creeping dread that harassed him every waking moment.

An invisible weight pressed against his chest, driving a wire-thin burst of sensations through him. Warmth, complacence, and belonging. Something inside of him pushed back, grasping the god-blade with all of its strength as it struggled to draw it from its being. A dagger of unparalleled light with no edge or handle.

The god-blade surged with strength, slicing through the incomprehensible fingers as if they were air. Reial gasped. His reflection, the void of color that had haunted him shone with an intensity greater than the sun. Iridescent whites, vivid reds, glimmering golds, and lustrous blacks muted the world, revealing what yet could be.

His dread evaporated, leaving him yearning for that divine light. One that only he was capable of creating.

The radiance drained from his reflection, returning it to its dull state. Not one void of color but muted like the rest of the world. What did he have to do to see that light again?

Reial shifted his gaze to the brewing storm as they reached Gaiceranes’s peak. There wasn’t much at the top as he suspected, save for an arrow-shaped antenna that whipped against the silver-plating. How had it not been torn away from past storms?

Wave hovered over the top, his wings cracking with each thunderous rumble. “Excellent timing for a flight, wouldn’t you say?” The dragon asked.

Kaval nodded. “Ah hope th' st'rm winds give us a guid boost. Don’t want ye bein' held down by us.”

“My abilities aren’t limited by how many people I can carry.”

“They kinda ur.”

Charette snorted. Perhaps Reial couldn’t make her happy, but he was glad there were others who could, even if only temporary. Did he deserve being around people who were better off without him?

Kaval whistled. “Skylord, Ah never get tired of thes view, especially before a st'rm. What about ye two? D’you like it?”

“It’s pretty, but I don’t think my stomach agrees with me.” Charette answered.

Kaval chuckled. “Yeah, takes some time tae get used tae. Unless yoo’re from Thrasmang.”

“Doesn’t it rain there all the time?”

“Not in the spring,” Wave interjected. “Far too dry for that kind of weather.”

Reial cocked a curious brow at his sister, who just shrugged. Storms were a regular occurrence in Recunda, though from what he learned during his tutoring, the Thrasmanish state was equally prone to rainfall.

“Sorry if ye didn’t enjoy th' ride. A’m sure Rail coold’ve made it tae th' top th' second we started.” Kaval paused, then looked at him for confirmation. “Ye can Stride up buildings, reit?”

“Yeah.” Reial looked at him. “You’ve never met a Strider before, have you?”

“Afraid not. Mah job never has me hangin’ aroond one place too long.”

“Do you like it?”

“Like what? Mah job?”

“No, always moving around.”

Kaval tapped a finger against his thigh thoughtfully. “I’d say so. Meetin' new fowk, gettin' tae see new places. It’s like a dream come true.”

Reial fell silent. Yes, that had been a dream of his at one point, but that wasn’t because he wanted to explore the lands out of innate curiosity. That was only a lie he had told himself to justify his guilty conscious. A habit he had become unknowingly addicted to.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Don’t you get lonely sometimes?” Charette inquired.

Kaval smiled softly. “Ah have Wave tae keep me company. E'en if he’s a wee shy aroond others, he can ramble oan like th' best of us.”

“I am not shy!” Wave snapped.

“But sometimes, it does get a wee lonely. Imagine meetin' someain easy tae talk tae. Ye can joke all ye want an' forgit about yer worries, but deep down inside, ye know yoo’ll eventually have tae leave them. That yoo’re never gonnae truly know them for who they ur coz of yer duties. Sometimes…it’s almost not worth it. Almost.”

A gust of wind tousled their hair, breaking the thin silence that had draped over them. Perhaps even the world knew this state of being for the dragoon was wrong.

“Sorry, didn’t mean tae brin’ ye guys down.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Do you need a moment?” Charette asked.

“Nah, A’m guid. Mah job is tae protect th' fowk, an' if 'at means Ah can’t get tae know them personally, 'en that’s th' price I’m willin' tae pay.”

“What if you can’t protect the people? What then?” Reial asked abruptly.

“Easy. Ah do whatever Ah can tae help them.”

“And if you can’t?’

“Then Ah remin' myself 'at uir powers ur limited, even 'at of Striders, Gliders, an' Trancers. We can’t blame oorselves for lackin' th' ability tae solve every solution. All we can do is come tae accept it.”

Come to accept what is? How could Reial do that? If he knew that he could Veil Stride, then maybe all of this could’ve been avoided. Maybe he would’ve known how to live a pleasant life.

Reial winced as another gust of wind slammed into him, blowing out his and his sister’s jackets. That wouldn’t have bothered him if their garments weren’t modeled after traditional Aunesfernish tailbinds. Whereas ordinary jackets would stop at the hip, these tended to reach the back of the wearer’s thighs. Stylish as they were, they were somewhat detrimental due to the regular occurrence of windstorms in Aunesfern. That didn’t stop him from wearing them though.

“Almost time!” Kaval announced. “Th' first winds ur always th' strongest in wee storms like these.”

“Small?” Reial asked. “I can’t even see the sun from all the way up here!”

“But it’s not as dark either!”

Charette stared at him. “How strong are the storms in Thrasmang, exactly?”

“Weel, ye know what species of dragon Wave belongs tae?”

Reial and Charette shook their heads.

“He’s a maelstrom, a type of dragon that’s native tae Thrasmang. They’re bred tae skim the storms wi' their slender builds an' powerful wings.”

Bursts of air assaulted Reial and his sister as the storm loomed, threatening to shake them loose from their spot. However, Wave remained unperturbed, hovering over the antenna as if the weather was still calm.

“Thrasmanish storms, ‘at is.”

Reial could almost hear the grin in Kaval’s voice as he clung to Charette. Hyvas, this was insane. Who wanted to be in the sky during a storm? This was the realm of the Gale Gliders. One which could not be conquered by Striders or Trancers.

Charette screamed as an explosion of sound left their ears ringing. “Kaval! This isn’t funny!”

“Stop what? Th' storm? It’s jist nature's way of washin' up. Plus, I’m not 'at guid at th' Solvaylian Arts.”

“Can we at least land somewhere safe please!” Reial yelled.

“Jist a few mair seconds…”

Wave jerked back, slamming them against the saddle’s rails.

“Now!”

The dragon sliced through the air with a single beat of his wings, ascending to the very edge of the storm. Reial’s screams mixed with that of his sisters as the raging tempest began to coax them from their seats. The world was supposed to bend to his whims, yet here it roared in defiance.

Wave’s wings folded over them, shielding them from the rain and wind as he began his swift descent. Darkness shrouded them, save for the single source of light created by the gap in the tent. Reial peered through it, watching as the world blurred in a mesh of silvery blacks and starling whites.

His initial fear quickly evaporated. He wasn’t in danger of being thrown off or falling anymore, but his raising stomach did make him feel somewhat uneased. Charette groaned, leaning back against him for support despite the tents restraining size.

“Stop…” She moaned.

“But thes is th’ fun part!” Kaval cried.

“Not for me.”

Reial wondered what the sensation was like, until he suddenly felt his stomach rise to his throat. Hyvas, kill me. How did Gliders deal with that sensation? If he were one he would’ve been retching on the floor after a simple dive. Thankfully, this wasn’t one.

“Might need tae grow a stronger stomach for thes. Sorry about 'at.”

Reial could only muster a groan as his response as he held onto his sister. Vaes’s hand, he was thankful for not eating anything that morning. Else he would’ve lost both his breakfast and lunch.

If Kaval thought the storms here were small, then what were they like in Thrasmang? The very thought made Reial shudder. He didn’t want to find out, he’d rather steer clear of that state entirely. For all he knew, the very earth could be scraped clean during their storms.

“How’s your first flight going?” Linithesis asked.

“Terrible. Please end it. Do something.”

“Just bear with it a little longer, you’ll get used to it.”

Reial groaned again. “I really don’t think I will.”

An impression of doubt pressed against his mind. “You’re just overreacting. Although I will admit that this isn’t probably the best way to be introduced to it.”

“You think?”

He felt Wave shoot up and twirl, causing his stomach to twist in odd ways he didn’t think were possible. Then, light flooded the world as Wave unfurled his wings. The clear blue sky spanned from horizon to horizon, a veritable sea of air that only the twin moons accompanied.

“Huh, th’ storm’s headin’ west.” Kaval noted.

Wave grunted. “Looks that way.”

“Ah coold’ve sworn th' forecast said it was movin' south.”

“Be wary of people who claim to see into the future. They aren’t a reliable sort.”

Reial listened half-heartedly as he helped Charette settle back on her seat. She wasn’t heavy, but it felt like she had put on some weight as she resisted his efforts to sit upright. Perhaps it was because he was a Veil Strider that he was able to endure more abuse. That would explain why he was still able to function, at least better than her that is.

“Can we go down now?” Charette groaned. “I’m tired.”

“But what about th' view? Ye haven’t even looked!” Kaval said.

“I’m tired of viewing. Please go down.”

Reial nodded in agreement. “I think a small rest is in order. Besides, we haven’t even eaten yet.”

“Ye haven’t? It’s already past noon!”

“We’ve had a busy day, Kaval.”

Without another word, Kaval silently instructed Wave to land. The dragon started a steady descent, allowing their stomachs to become accustomed to the peculiar lifting sensation. If this was how they were introduced to it, then Reial wouldn’t have minded the flight. Is everyone from Thrasmang this thoughtless?

Reial gasped. The distant towering Remnant trapped in the storm, glowing with electrifying energy, green fields interspersed with clusters of stark white trees, deltas running along Recunda’s sandy coast, and the brilliant blue waters of the Vaesian gulf. It was as if the Almagest had sculpted and molded every tree, hill, and river with its bare hands.

“To think the mountains had once hindered this land’s beauty.” Linithesis reflected. “Destruction leaves naught but creation in its wake, don’t you think?”

A small smile tugged at Reial’s lips. No one could recall the name of the mountain range that spanned from this part of Recunda to the southern tip of Mirsey. Only that Vaes himself had destroyed it to quite literally bring down the barrier between the lands of Yusanik and Thírion six-hundred years ago. Were there still people around from that time?

“Reial?” Linithesis called.

“Yes?”

“What do you intend to do for the rest of your life?”

Reial frowned. “I still have plenty of time to figure that out, Linithesis.”

“You’re right. Hundreds of years is truly a blessing.” Linithesis paused. “What if you could live forever? What would you do then?”

“Find a way to silence my thoughts.”

“Hmm.”

“What? Would you like something more noble?”

“No, I only want what would make others happy.”

Reial watched as Charette turned her gaze to the brilliant waters of the Vaesian gulf. She was still trying to hide it. That grief of losing another being in her life. Without them, she shone dimly. It pained him, but what more could he do than offer her reassuring words?

Perhaps if he was able to treasure those moments too, then he would be able to share her grief. She deserved a better life, not one wrought with his failures to grant one. But that’s all he had ever been. A failure in the eyes of his teacher and country. He wasn’t exceptionally smart or witty like an Aunesfernish man should be, he wasn’t tall or dashing. Hyvas, even his mother and father still called him cute. Everything he ever did was never good enough.

“Good enough for who? Them, or yourself?” Linithesis abruptly inquired

Reial ignored him and tried shutting out his thoughts.

“Don’t repress it.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s okay to be scared, just be brave.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to be. No one else will be brave for you.”

He squirmed.

“Tell me why you’re afraid.”

Reial’s mind blanked. Why was he? He lived an ordinary life, didn’t he? His parents had hired the best teachers, yet they had never been satisfied with his results. Did that make him a poor learner? Were his efforts unworthy because of who he was?

“Reial.”

“I don’t know, okay!” He exploded. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I used to think that my thoughts were my own, but they aren’t. They belong to them. My expectations, my beliefs, they’re theirs. Even how I judge myself. How can I ever be good enough for myself when I’m not me!”

“They’re thoughts need not rule over yours.” Linithesis cooed.

“They’re all I have left. I can’t flick them off like a switch. They’re my waking nightmare. Always there to remind me of what I am. A good for nothing who’s only redeeming quality is being a Veil Strider. A dwelling Veil Strider. How can I be proud of that when those powers have brought nothing but grief to me and those I love?”

“You don’t need to take pride in what you own.” Linithesis explained. “You should be proud of who you are. Despite all your turmoil and mixed emotions, you are worthy of admiration. Even if every fiber of your being tells you otherwise. Do you know why we continue to trudge on to the next dawn?”

A spark of interest emanated from Linithesis as he read his mind.

“Ah, so you do know why.”

Reial nodded.

“You’re tired, aren’t you? Or rather, you’ve always been tired. Why not take a rest?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Well, whenever you decide to, I’ll be there. Come now, the world waits for no one. Not even your thoughts.”

Sound flooded Reial’s ears as he returned to the world. He could still sense the Pneuma’s presence in his mind, he hadn’t withdrawn. Instead, he could sense that he was replacing his intrusive thoughts, just like that peculiar light imprisoning it.

If the world waited for no one, then what did it wait for? The Empyreans? The Almagest? Or perhaps truly nothing. All that mattered was where one ended up. Their destination.

What would they become by the end of their journey? Someone they had been hoping to love, or loathe to hate? Would they journey again until they became that something to love even if it wasn’t worthwhile?

“Linithesis,” Reial began. “Do you believe you’re good enough?”

A nostalgic grin bore itself into his mind. “Perhaps at one point, I did. Will you help me find that answer again?”

Could he? He wasn’t anywhere near as intelligent or wise as the Pneuma. What insight could he possibly offer to aid him in his endeavor? Would it even matter? But what if it did? If he could help only a little, then it was worth trying. It was the least he could do, not as a Veil Strider, Aunesfernish citizen, or direct descendent of Rei, but as a person. As himself.

“I don’t know if I can, but I’ll try.” He promised.

The Pneuma’s presence beamed with delight. “With all that I am, I thank you, Reial. For all of our shared eternity.”