Haste.
 
This is the first time he has ever flown with it, the wind lifting him high and pushing him farther.
 
“Go to the south, to Sylva,” Amet had said, and Castile obliged with a fleeting glance to the burnt girl. He turned away from them and he took to the dark sky. The only light guiding him are the flames licking the trees and pouring across the open meadows. The southbound wind lifts him and carries him even as he fervently beats his wings, his legs running across the plumes of smoke and clouds.
 
Open plains swirl underneath him, then rivers, then forests. He knows only where to go by the scent that lingered on Djinni’s skin and the description mother once provided him as a young colt. It guides him as a breadcrumb trail even as his nostrils flutter with the heat of inhaled smoke – yet it doesn’t harm him. It invigorates him. It fuels him. The inferno raging in Hyaline awakened something deep within him, but he isn’t sure what. His body roils and churns, but Castile’s mind is too far ahead – too occupied – to even take notice.
 
When he reaches the deciduous trees of Sylva, Castile descends with a stealth quickness that he didn’t quite expect even from himself. ”Djinni!” He shouts into the night sky, the wind whipping his tousled locked. He pays no mind to borders, to manners, as he dives past it all and thunders through the web of trees. ”Djinni!” He calls again, louder, before taking pause. “She is the mage,” mother had told him and he remembers how she would suddenly appear at their sides. She has magic. She can hear him, see him, reach him.
 
The rage burns through him and still continues to ripple through his body as his coat turns to obsidian scales and his pupils become slits. His wings, extended toward the blotted-out sky, mirror those of his father’s: leathery, thin, clawed. But even all of this, he doesn’t take notice. His mismatched eyes are searching for her even as he speaks, trying to muster his composure despite the urgency of the news. ”Djinni, we need your help in Hyaline. We are being attacked…” Please hurry, he doesn’t say as his head turns in every direction awaiting her arrival.