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I will say it now, I will not die for you...
Alimbil felt pieces of smoking obsidian armor fly past his face, debris everywhere. The explosion still hung in the air, but it was getting farther and farther away. He was falling. Thoughts shot through his head at lightning speed; where was Ria? The explosion... she had used some sort of Stellar magic... yes, but.... where was she?
He shouted against the winds, calling out for her. No answer. Again and again he called out in an increasingly hoarse and desperate voice. As a cloud covered up the scene of the explosion, Alimbil closed his eyes, trying to squeeze out the tears. Ria was... gone. How could he handle life without her? She can't be gone, not now, not after all their trouble to get away from those demons, not after they had escaped the city and fled from their pursuers... A knot formed in his throat; there was no way he could live with out her. She had been with him for such a long time, and now.... in such a short time.... In a burst of anger he screamed to no one in particular, "Murderers! I hate you...!" he sobbed, coughing as his own breath was sucked out of him. Tears rolled from his eyes, eventually getting caught in the wind and flying off the tip of his nose.
Oh, that was right; he was falling. With a start he remembered that without Ria he could not fly. He would die if he hit the ground now. No, no, he didn't want to die. He hadn't seen everything he'd wantedto see, do everything he wanted to do...
The skies were clearing, the cumulus clouds parting as he shot through them at an ever quickening pace. He had to stop himself, but how? He saw Arava in the distance, far below, but getting nearer every second. Ria had sacrificed herself so he would get there safely... he had to, for her sake.
He changed his position, which had until then been a free falling stance, and turned into a nose dive. He had to calculate the distance perfectly if this was to work, and he needed to aim just perfectly.
Placing his heads in front of his head, like a swimmer, he aligned his body so it pierced the wind resistance with a lower surface area, making him go even faster. He then closed his eyes, ready to summon upon the winds.
There is a lot of science and math in magic; in fact, magic is just the manifestation of life energy to interact with the environment around an object. What Alimbil was plannning to do was a dangerous maneuver, and required the utmost precision.
Hot air rises, and therefore there is more of it lower down in the stratosphere. The philosophy behindthe 'Air Cushion', as it was called, was that the warm air could be materialized into a more solidified form, providing a sort of net energy to catch a free-falling person. This, however, had never worked for any being, but it was a theory Alimbil was hoping would work.
He calculated his speed, and waited. A hundred feet would do it... 150, 120... 100! He did a flip, turning back into the free-falling stance, and put both hands out in front of him. "Concentrate...Concentrate..."
The air rippled in front of him, then-
He crashed into it. His arms hit the 'cushion' first; he could feel the pain shoot up his arm as the wrist in his left hand snapped sickeningly. He pulled himself tight, rolling off the surface, which was quickly fading, then fell another twenty or so feet, landing expertly on the ground.
Getting up, he let out a yell, holding his damaged wrist. Fledgrens bones are like that of birds; hollow for easy flight, but it made them very brittle. He cried out, clutching his wrist, hot tears of pain rushing down his cheeks.
But I will die for the freedom of my homeland!
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