Jack

Fly

The horizon is so far away. It's the only way I can get there. One foot in front of the other. I'm so tired, and the lulling rhythm of my feet is hypnotic. Plant the foot down, pick it up, put it down, pick it up, put it down, pick it down.

Suddenly screams break the chilly silence. I spin around and squint into the distance. I see nothing and then smoke, and piercing red flames.

Only one person can make flames that red,

Erith.

I shake my head, no, no. He hasn't found me in 300 years. I haven't used my powers in three centuries. How did he manage to find me.

I run to the ledge that overlooks the villiage. The smell leeching from the wooden slat houses is all to familiar, it's the smell of fire and flesh. I turn away, there's nothing I can do. This is out of my hands. The last building to erupt in flames is the orphanage. A dozen screaming children, with hair singed with ash run and try to soothe their burns with the snow. This is out of my hands,  I know it is, there's only one way to save these children.

I turn and try to will myself to fly. I squeeze my eyes shut, but all see is fire rolling slowely towards me. I need to fly.

Please, Please.

I gasp, and slowely like taking your first steps my feet leave the frost covered ground, first I pass a bush, then a tree and then. I move forward by will, faster and faster. I flip and I yell out in happiness. I never realised how much I loved flying, the feeling of being free, with my auburn hair flying out behind me, my curls bouncing with the gentle updraught. I zoom so fast it feels like my face is peeling off. I do a loopty-loop and I smile so hard. Faster and freeer than ever before I fly as fast as I can to the North.