Air Born | Generation Icarus #1

Miguel - Flying! ... kind of.

AN: ^^^Throwback pic to the 2015 character image edits I did!! ^^^ I didn't keep the Tyler one up for the other chapters because that pic was way too white for our actual half-black, all-American hero. Should I find another stock photo model to wing-ify? (Hopefully the diversity of stock photo libraries has improved in the last 4 years...!!!)

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I took a few wrong turns on the way back but with the help of the map I finally made it to our much improved campsite. Tyler was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear the sound of gentle snoring from what looked like a brand new tent.

I had a feeling I knew where that had come from.

Crawling inside, I waved an open chocolate bar under Tyler's nose. I swear he grabbed it and shoved it in his mouth before he even opened his eyes.

"Thanks," he said between bites. "Any trouble?"

"Just had to dodge the odd grumpy and very noisy hunting party on the way back," I said. "A hunchback teenager hiking through the woods with several bags of groceries was only ever going to look suspicious." I glanced around at the tent. "Now I think I know why they were so angry."

"They deserved it," Tyler said, rustling around in another of the shopping bags.

"If you say so." I couldn't control the yawn.

With a granola bar gripped between his teeth, Tyler pulled on his sweater and squeezed out of the tent. "Your turn to catch up on sleep. I'll make sure the food is stashed safely for the night."

Wearily and with some difficulty, I stripped off my damp clothes, unrolled the second sleeping bag, and paused for a moment in silent prayer. When I finally climbed in, the bag was too tight for my folded wings so I left them hanging out. With my head on my arm, I gave in to sleep.

The next morning we set off in search of a good area for flight training. As we hiked uphill, Tyler discovered he could boost his progress by flapping, propelling himself forward much further with each step. It looked pretty cool. When I copied him, I had to stop to laugh.

"I feel like I'm moonwalking," I said. The surge of each flap pushing me up the slope did feel like walking with reduced gravity. Just for a few moments.

It made us even more impatient to start flying.

After a while we found a natural clearing, half of which was on the side of a hill. It was perfect.

"It's not that far to fall."

Holding tightly to the branch above me, I leaned out. "Uh, yes, it is. It's at least twenty feet!"

Tyler laughed, and the tree bobbed slowly underneath us as he shifted. He was leaning back against the trunk with his arms folded, wings splayed to either side so his spine was flat against the bark, and his feet nonchalantly crossed at the ankle. "It is if you're normal. We're not normal."

"I guess so."

"I've fallen from much higher. Twice. And I survived."

My wings shivered. I hadn't tried to flap them properly yet. There had been nowhere private enough to try in Mexico City, and life had been too exhausting since.

"You have to do it sometime," Tyler said. "If you ever want to fly, that is."

My eyes flickered upward to the blue vastness of Heaven curving over the forest. Our tree stood at the highest edge of the clearing, halfway up the hill. Although we'd listened as hard as we could, we couldn't detect the presence of another person anywhere within a few miles. The valley unrolled before me, green and lush, but it was the sky that drew my gaze every time.

Suddenly, the yearning to be up there, to feel the freedom, was as strong as the urge to breathe.

"Have faith in the Lord, and He will have faith in you," I muttered to myself, and I let go of the tree. In two running, staggering steps, I dashed to the end of the swaying branch and jumped.

My wings snapped open wide, wrenching on my ribs and forcing a gasp of air into my lungs. The air swirled around my feathers like water, and I could feel the current moving against the long feathers as their roots tugged against my skin. The air was welling up underneath me, trying to waft me higher. For a moment, I was weightless.

A second later, I remembered to breathe. Gravity reached for me, my body lurching downward with my own weight. But the ground wasn't just rushing up toward me, it was also rushing past — I was gliding!

Kind of.

Straining to keep my wings stretched as far as I could, the tingle in my tendons became an ache, my new chest and back muscles burning with the effort. As the ground approached, my legs swung forward and I hit the grass heels-first. My wing muscles seemed to collapse a moment later, and I fell over.

I lay there, my wings flattening the grass on either side, staring up at the sky and trying to get my breathing and heart rate under control. But elation danced through my veins. I'd finally tasted it. That split second of freedom.

I had to have more.

"Incoming!"

Tyler's silhouette crossed above me, his roughly ten-foot wingspan briefly blocking half my view until his feet thudded to the ground a few yards from my head. Even before he'd finished crashing, he was laughing.

"Let's go again!" he yelled, whooping and jumping to his feet.

Grinning even as I shushed him, I rolled upright a little more carefully, rubbing my wrenched muscles. "Probably should still keep our voices down. But now I see what you mean about having to build up our flight strength."

"Yeah, guess so." He chuckled a little breathlessly, then his whole face brightened. "That's it!"

"What is?"

"We need an exercise routine," he announced, then dropped his voice as he glanced around. "We have to get stronger and fitter if we're ever going to fly." He seemed genuinely happy at the thought of working out. "It's not like we've got anything else to do."

"What exactly do you have in mind?" I asked warily, although his enthusiasm was contagious.

Tyler smirked. "Ever done a push-up, or a prone hold?"