To float a bit and carelessly hover from one place to another is already hard. To soar high and sail the gales like a proud eagle, now, that is a much steeper and more daring act on its own. But she has to commit to performing the latter, even if she has failed time and time again throughout the years.

   Through the cruel and calculated control of an ancient devilish space-ferrying empire, the means to use the sky as another plain to travel on was laughably fleeting. In this day and age, removed from the many privileges of being an unholy puppet, this maiden is denied the ease of those godlike feats. Some, if not all, she would want to regain, oh yes. At least, they would make her long aching life a tad less unbearable.

   On a tall mountain cliff, this doll in rags is staring at a sea of clouds, nearly still in their presence. Bluish-green eyes seem lost in all the large clumps and puffs of white. Birds, scaled legends and angels can glide well through the milky realms. So did she, eons ago. That feeling of freedom far away from the earth was only achieved through long horrific imprisonment. Yes, she could do those extraordinary things that would make rulers in many worlds envy her badly. But those privileges came with many strings, strong, sour and sinister ones that resulted in countless exploitation and agony. The memories of old do still hurt.

   However, on more than several occasions, she has been told that she can restore some of them, including the means to soar the heavens again. That would be swell. And so, close those lovely eyes. Take a deep breath. Recall a heartfelt encouragement from prior millennia.

It is still there in you, Astrid.
The marvels and majesty of a goddess.
What you believe to have been lost.
You need only to reawaken them.

   Astrid slowly brings herself down on her right knee while still on the protruded edge she has been standing for a while. Soft fingers of her right hand are placed on the hard dirt. It is cold and coarse to the touch of someone who is quite delicate. A dear damsel who had gone through so much that to speak had become a genuine hardship for her.

   She takes another deep breath; creamy pink lips lightly parted while she cools her lungs. Feel the many flows of energy in the cosmos making their way into her flesh. Let her nerves feel the faint sting of those tiniest specks that were ushered into existence by the primordial forces of creation.

   Think of her sisterly friend. Think fondly of that loveliest doting Witch-Queen who brought her salvation and true liberty from that wretched empire that treated them both like nothing else but deadly weapons and delicious whores. Think of her kindness, her smile, her desire to make this maiden feel better even if things are bleak, her sacrifice, her love. She would not want her younger sisterly friend to remain in torment and know that she still suffers greatly to this day, does she not?

   Another deep breath is taken; her soft whisper of each release is sultry. The air around the kneeling maiden begins to rumble, wind swirling gradually until it gets faster. Her nerves ache. Her spark to not give in to fear and futility grows more ferociously inside her. Strands of her strawberry-blonde hair in a bun, long and flowing if brought down and loose, flail up and down from this overture of something ancient and astral being awakened from such a long slumber. Slowly clench the fingers on the rocky surface into a fist. Many specks of dirt near this lass are rising. Perhaps, even just saying her name, despite the crippling coyness, can encourage this lone doll to push on.

“A-Azz-...zzaaa......”

   She brings herself a bit more down, perhaps an inch or two, from her lowered stature. The icy wind spiraling around her is stroking her smooth skin, tickling her cheeks that had been drenched in tears many times before. Clench that little fist tighter, forlorn shy lass. One last deep breath. Bring in the goodness. Let go of the sadness.

   Astrid opens her eyes as she cast that liberating breath, her voice quite crisp. In one fell swoop, the lone doll in rags pushes her entire kneeling up into the nothingness before her, vigorously and violently. The rocky edge she was kneeling from is brought into a small crater from the might that came with her powerful leap. The path of her self-induced toss is wide and arched, but soon she begins to plummet after leaving the high earth more than a hundred yards behind her. The roar of the air is nothing short of loud, growling on her ear as the minty push is giving her sullied princess face a bit of sting.

   She is falling through the sea of clouds. The green and brown of the great distant earth is before her sight. Lines and shapes of the many things down there are still blurred but can become clear fairly soon. One of them is a large lake bigger than the bustling town she left had from a month ago. If she fails at this latest chance to not simply float but to actually fly, the rich wonders below await her with a nasty fatal kiss and her being a lifeless corpse so soon, pretty and pathetic.

Muster your bravery, almighty as the sun.
Keep training your body, mind, heart and soul.
Through those moments of pain, you will see it.
The grand opportunity to reclaim what is rightfully yours.
Temper yourself well, dare not wither and whittle.
Your godhood will be yours again, dearest Astrid.

   Once up high on that mountain edge, the woman is becoming dangerously closer to the lake below. Even with what a watery plain to greet her, she is sure to die or have her unholy body put her to sleep for months, if not years, before she recovers enough. Cease clinging into inhibitions. Spark up and more those tiniest living blocks that may as well belong to a crowd of celestial beings that can move the heavens and the earth. The lake is becoming larger to her gaze. Her soft voice cracks as she brings herself nearly in tears, trying her very best to finish speaking the name of her sisterly friend who she misses so achingly much.

“......-Vela.”

   Just a few yards before the lake surface, a mighty crack of thunder rattles the air for miles! Branches of nearby trees by the hundreds sway from the wall of gale that blasted from the center of that madness which is Astrid herself. Even the lake itself awakens from this explosive drama through a tall white tower of water! She gradually directs herself from a sheer downward drop to a new forward path in long wide swerves. She zooms ahead; her speed is much faster than the raging winds around her.

   The once-fixed bun falls off, revealing her beguiling fiery-blonde hair that flails along with the edges of her tattered cloth soaring so swiftly ahead. Miles are covered in mere seconds as this lonely lady has reawakened what she has been dying to regain for ages, after much trial and more errors that she can possibly count.

   Joy comes with sweet sorrow, for tears are soon shed from her narrowing eyes. The waves of disbelief are surreal, but so are those of her bliss and pride.

   Astrid pirouettes to change her formless road from forward to up. With another rich thud of something only the heavens should be able to sing, there goes another thunder! Astrid hurls herself up high, her right arm raised up with its fist fairly clenched. The cool battering breeze is sensational.

   A new curiosity manifests itself on this momentous occasion. White flames soon surround this skyward beauty, gnawing through her dreadful pauper’s clothing until it is no more. This searing force hurts her a bit, but she endures it. Perhaps, she is aware that it is a transformation she must go through. Astrid may be reawakening more than just her gift to travel these higher plains, after all.

   Left bare while up high, the gleaming flame dresses this young beauty in something slimming and shimmering. A slender gown-like ensemble fitting what she may probably is. Two pairs of pellucid seraphic wings come into form on the back on her back. Truthfully, they are not needed for her heavenly journey. They are extensions of her celestial form to store in and brew the power of the stars in the event that they are needed on her command. Astrid soon towers past the mountain she tossed herself from. She curves her path again to explore what is ahead rather than just what is aloft.

   Astrid gently wipes her tears with a curled finger while her lovely watery eyes are gawking at the far horizon. That blend of joy and woe is still on her face turning a bit rather around the nose from her silly weeping. It should not be a shock that this heavenly doll with her dazzling dress and wondrous wings is thankful for this incredible freedom she is given. She dares not give it away without a fight.

   O, how the exceedingly elegant Aza-Vela would have been so proud that her sisterly companion from eons ago can also achieve what that elder Witch-Queen had done so prior to her passing. Awaken and reclaim her godhood for her own.

   As her tears lessen, Astrid stirs a bit of her pride awake, letting out a sultry smirk providing more intrigue to her glamorous visage. One that many below will desire her madly at the mere sight of her right now. She springs parts of herself forward to let out another loud crack of thunder. Astrid pierces through the heavens in pirouettes every now and then. Roar on and away through her skyward sail while feeling as unstoppable as a storm and perhaps faster than one.

The angel delights herself once again
in a divine privilege she lost eons ago.
The gift of flight.

  r o l e p l a y e r / B r o k e n A n g e l