Rise Of Pandora

Rise of Pandora: VII. Upon A Cloud

"If you dare stand before me in an attempt to destroy me and my family, I will descend upon you the full extent of my wrath."

-Atlas

I. Foreigner, In The Sky Above The Sindirin Empire

Upon a small white cloud lied a man with two white wings. He was snoring on his back, his body bare and naked. He looked young, an exotic tan radiating over his youthful skin. He was sleeping but slowly he began to wake up, his eyelids jittering in the crisp sky and cold sweat dripping past his pores. As he slowly stirred from his slumber, a pair of ravishing violet eyes were revealed. He looked around, his body sore and stiff. There were only stormy rainclouds that he could see. He groaned as he began to wiggle to his side, curly tufts of white hair wrapping down to his chin,  falling to his shoulders and blowing gently with the pelting wind. He squinted because he found it hard to see anything in the distance beyond the darkness which would be interrupted by brief flashes of lightning. He then widened them to release the strain on his sore eyes. He pushed himself up until he was sitting upright.

The feathers on his wings danced and swayed with the wind as he sat upright. Sitting still for some time, he tried taking in his surroundings. He inhaled a large breath and sighed calmly. His purple eyes roaming around, he was thoroughly confused.

He did not seem to mind the thin air being so high in the heavens, in fact, he did not seem to be affected by it. His breathing was normal. Rarely did he shiver to the cold. He seemed to be one with the hostility of the stormy sky. But, where he was physically unaffected, his mind could not comprehend the unfamiliar setting. 

"Where am I, Prometheus?" He questioned with a low voice. 

Pressing down and feeling on the fleecy substance of what he was sitting upon, he whispered to himself, "Am I on a cloud?"

Becoming increasingly worried and agitated, he called out again, "Prometheus, where am I?" Again there was no response, only the crying of the clouds.

"Prometheus! Why do you not answer me!"

His worry was brewing into frustration. His heart was galloping. He could feel the stress of being so high and this unmanned him at every level. The hard exterior of the cloud slowly dwindled into a soft and fluffy density which he steadily became buried into. His belly began upheaving, feeling he would fall through the cloud at any moment. 

He, with a coarse tone, called out again, "Prometheus! What in the hells is happening to me!" But, there was again no response from the person he was calling out to. So he tried standing to obtain a better view but his feet were unsteady and was partly tearing through the cloud. 

"How am I here?" He cried out at the peak of his lungs with raindrops falling upon his tongue. He grunted aggressively while trying to walk on the uncanny white cloud. His hair was beginning to rise until the curls were becoming straight and become black at the roots and his brown skin was beginning to blacken at the fingertips. He was still scouring the surrounding clouds in the hopes of finding an answer but the fleets of slowly drifting clouds provided none. His frustration was growing and the brown of his skin was increasingly becoming replaced with strange blackness that festered everywhere on his body, even the white in his eyes were being taken over by this inexplicable darkness. 

Upon seeing this, he yelled. He tried to calm down but his temper was taking over. He took deep and controlled breaths to ease the angst. He kept doing this until he felt on the calmer end that was the spectrum of emotion. He shut his eyes and focused internally like a meditation. He continued inhaling and exhaling. He sighed quietly and breathed in once more. He opened his eyes again and breathed in and out again. The darkness at the tips of his fingers was beginning to recede, again leaving his rich ocher skin to flourish openly.