A whisper. Well, more of a fiery shout, considering the language it’s spoken in.
The Employer. Battered, yet unbroken. A spire torn off by sharp claws, hurtling through the void towards destinations unknown. You wonder what the future will think of its remains, though your thoughts are more fixed on the unfathomable cadaver drifting below. Could something like this even die? Its stillness suggests so.
You tilt your vanes towards a bright noise, echoing through the bitter winds of the high wilderness.
“Are our numbers the same?”
“Yes. I believe Veils tore a wing.”
Veils huffs and wraps its wings together, shivering as though weathering a harsh winter night in London.
“Far from lethal. Give it a day or three, it’ll be as new.”
You set your sights on the expanse in front of you. A near-infinite stretch of treasures to hoard and sights to see. Music, victuals, delights you could only dream of, and more. Out here, you are alone, yet together. Hazy memories float by, recalling the people you left behind. The people of London.
A pang of guilt.
You spread your wings.
The journey was long, and you only regret the price worth paying.