Aryu had little to show, in part because he couldn't fit much more into his already full pack, and also because he simply had never been a man who dwelled on the past. Before him were trinkets and knick-knacks, but the truth was, these few items were here out of luck and whim. If you were a man with the ability to fly (or glide, as was more the case), what use was imagination? If not for his parents, he'd have taken to wing the moment he could. He didn't have any foolish thoughts about sticking around Tan Torna Qu-ay any longer than necessary. His quest near-complete, all that was left was to go before the Council, regale them with harrowing tales of adventures deep in the high mountains, and accept their blessings on becoming a man. Then, off he'd go to see the world.
He had told his parents his plan, and although they were saddened to hear it, they would respect his choice. “Just promise not to go back to our old lands, Aryu,” his mother had said. “Flying can’t save you there.” He never argued. He loved his parents and respected what they did for him and the risks they had taken.
His past was generally agreed to be heartbreakingly poor, so he focused on the future and little else. All he had was these useless trinkets, his unmentioned find, and a piece of paper with a simple note:
“More poetry by moonlight, perhaps?” was what it said.
It was elegantly written and still smelled faintly of mountain wildflowers, though that may have been his imagination.
She was a young server at a roadside town in the Komoky Valley, a vast and sprawling plain that ran between the Great Range to the south and the higher Hymleah Crest, which was the start of the huge and impassable mountains to the north. So towering they were said to scrape the stars themselves, so massive they had put the spin of the planet on a slight tilt and so dangerous that even the great Ruskan Stalkers were no match for their peril. None of those statements were true, but myth becomes fact in only a few generations. Lack of information quickly breeds mythology.
She and Aryu joined in deep conversation for the better part of a day, with him retelling the quest to that point (his pack seated FIRMLY on his back) as well as reciting some poetic bits he’d heard and taken a liking to while away, and she listened with genuine interest and amazement. Few on their quest ever came so far into these peaks, and that fact gave way to her belief that other from there shared his strange appearance. As was said, in the right light he was rather boyishly handsome. She was smitten after his first ten words.
Aryu was as oblivious as any man would be in that situation, regardless of age. That was unfortunately something that had not been bred out of them by this stage in the evolution of the species. The natural charisma he had developed to compensate for his oddity had unknowingly turned him into an elegant and almost poetic speaker. His detailed descriptions of peoples and places had taken her to far off vistas and introduced her to amazing characters, none of which was she ever likely to see.
He did find her attractive, with her soft skin, deep brown eyes, and dark hair in ringlets that surrounded the smooth curves of her face. During his formative years, any girl he'd desired knew of his deformity. As such, he had never developed the trust needed to pursue this passing affection.
“Perhaps one day I'll leave this place and journey out to see your home,” she had said, being sure to be both sincere and flirtatious in her delivery. Truth be told, she was very happy with her life and home, but she didn't hate the idea of such a venture taken with the exotic stranger.
“I’m afraid that, even if you should, I wouldn’t be there to greet you,” Aryu replied, obliviously melting her with every word. “I've seen enough to know I want to see more, and I don't plan to remain home much longer than I have to. I've come too far to stop now. But still, I hope this won't be our last meeting.” A truer word was never spoken. Aryu clicked into her advances. He liked her and she him until, he believed, the pack would come off. Until that time, he was quite content to live this fantasy for a few hours longer.
With her time at work ending and her duties at her home calling, they said their sweet goodbyes and agreed that another meeting between them would not be something they would be averse to. She had given him the note he held now on the mountainside as she kissed his cheek and almost floated away down the street.
Aryu and Johan left the town soon after, that second fateful meeting never coming. His fear, at last, overcame him despite his best efforts. He had convinced himself that she was already too perfect for him, that this one moment was enough.
Unknown to him, she wouldn't have cared about the wings. Love, even so early blooming, sees only challenges, never barriers. Perhaps had he stayed, both of their lives would have been different. She, saddened by his failure to appear that night, cast herself into a pit of her own malaise and foolishness, which, thanks to her kind nature, she would overcome in less than a day.
Aryu, on the other hand, may have never had to deal with the strife and hardships that shortly awaited him. It is best to know this now that these things were
