The Sky
The Sky
Spoilers: not really
Rating: worksafe
Characters: Roy
Notes: the loooooooong delayed request fic for miss_arel, using the prompt of the sky, birds, flying, with the war mentioned as per notice.
There was never any logic when he tipped his head back and stared into the sky. It was something he did, something he always had done. When he was a child in the schoolroom, he had watched the birds flitting past the window, waiting until he was out in the schoolyard to spook them so they would fly up up and away past the trees. When he’d moved on to higher academics, he could remember his tutor constantly snapping him back to attention when he’d found his gaze wandering away towards the pale color seen over the rooftops.
It had always fascinated him, even after he’d learned how to wield fire in a manner most couldn’t honestly comprehend. Perhaps it had been because of his fascination that fire came so easily, for what was fire without the other after all?
The war had almost managed to tarnish the sky for him. It almost bound him to the earth, ruined that which he loved best. The horror of looking into the sky and seeing nothing but cloud after cloud of ash had made him question, had almost destroyed his deep affinity. It had almost snapped something deep within his heart that would have made it so he would never look higher again.
Before the nights of destruction, he had looked into the sky, and it was endless. The blue was deeper than any other place he had ever been, unobstructed by trees or buildings. It had been like he’d reached the land of the sky, the place where it was endless, untouchable by mere human creations.
He had imagined, during the first week before he’d been given his horrific tasks, that he would be able to reach out and pull that blue sky down to him, to be able to fly away on a lone cloud in this place of dry and faith.
It was not to be, that dream, once he knew what it was to ruin that endless blue, to darken it with death and misery. He feared the land had been permanently tarnished by their hands, and perhaps those dark clouds filled with hate would never settle again. It was not so, and the first sandstorm taught him the lesson.
Sand and heat, fire and depth, then suddenly the wind was gone as quickly as it had come, the sand settling back to untouched earth as though they had never been. The endless sky was once again pristine.
It was almost as though it was the blessing of a god, one he was almost certain he’d never believed was there in the first place.
Spoilers: not really
Rating: worksafe
Characters: Roy
Notes: the loooooooong delayed request fic for miss_arel, using the prompt of the sky, birds, flying, with the war mentioned as per notice.
There was never any logic when he tipped his head back and stared into the sky. It was something he did, something he always had done. When he was a child in the schoolroom, he had watched the birds flitting past the window, waiting until he was out in the schoolyard to spook them so they would fly up up and away past the trees. When he’d moved on to higher academics, he could remember his tutor constantly snapping him back to attention when he’d found his gaze wandering away towards the pale color seen over the rooftops.
It had always fascinated him, even after he’d learned how to wield fire in a manner most couldn’t honestly comprehend. Perhaps it had been because of his fascination that fire came so easily, for what was fire without the other after all?
The war had almost managed to tarnish the sky for him. It almost bound him to the earth, ruined that which he loved best. The horror of looking into the sky and seeing nothing but cloud after cloud of ash had made him question, had almost destroyed his deep affinity. It had almost snapped something deep within his heart that would have made it so he would never look higher again.
Before the nights of destruction, he had looked into the sky, and it was endless. The blue was deeper than any other place he had ever been, unobstructed by trees or buildings. It had been like he’d reached the land of the sky, the place where it was endless, untouchable by mere human creations.
He had imagined, during the first week before he’d been given his horrific tasks, that he would be able to reach out and pull that blue sky down to him, to be able to fly away on a lone cloud in this place of dry and faith.
It was not to be, that dream, once he knew what it was to ruin that endless blue, to darken it with death and misery. He feared the land had been permanently tarnished by their hands, and perhaps those dark clouds filled with hate would never settle again. It was not so, and the first sandstorm taught him the lesson.
Sand and heat, fire and depth, then suddenly the wind was gone as quickly as it had come, the sand settling back to untouched earth as though they had never been. The endless sky was once again pristine.
It was almost as though it was the blessing of a god, one he was almost certain he’d never believed was there in the first place.