When his life had begun, in his mothers prison cell, he knew nothing but darkness. Shivering in a nook in the stone wall, a steady drip of water dampening his blotchy coat, he knew nothing of warmth. It wasn't until that fateful day, that his mother had tricked a mare into her cell, that he had come to know the light. It came in the form of a simple creature. Without extravagant features or striking hues. He had learned at a young age, power and beauty came from within.
He lived his life after that day by the side of the charcoal mare, Amorette. Grazing the fields of Tephra, exploring the volcano and walking the beaches to the northwest. Accompanied also by his sister, Kolera, who had secured his stay here. He was ever grateful to each of the mares. They hadn't needed to take him in. They could have left him to drown in the channel as his mother had wished. So each day he didn't dwell on the past. His sister had engrained this into him. He lived life if each day was his last.
.
As a yearling now, he was small for his age. Lanky and awkward. His set of skinned wings hung at his sides as he looked down upon the lands, perched atop a boulder. They were becoming less cumbersome with each day. Learning to control them took great focus and he practiced every day. Climbing onto the rock, of which he stood now, to unfold them and allow the breeze to lift them into the sky. His sister had no wings, nor did Amorette so of what he knew of flight was learned by trial and error. It would have been so much easier to be taught.
With a rising and lowering of the limbs, he hovers easily. The large span of wing was unmatched to his petite body and his weight easily lifted. It was the strength to control such a large expanse that often sent him tumbling into the grass and dirt. Today was no different and as his body went airborne the breeze shifted, sending him into a downward spiral and crashing into the earth.
Thud
Spending most of his time alone practicing, he rarely found embarrassment in his failures. He was used to falling, so he'd pick himself up and shake the dust from his coat to try again. With each attempt he grew more determined and with each failure, more stubborn. "Come on Kryptic. You can do this!"
Climb, lift, breeze, fall; repeat
It was a vicious cycle. When the day drew to a near close and the sun dipped towards the tropical canopy, he decides to venture back towards home. There was a well worn path leading back to the heart of the kingdom. He often met residents along the path, offering a friendly smile but most didn't bother with the young boy with bat wings. Finding the very path now he begins to walk along it. His mismatched eyes curious to find if anyone would be passing him by this evening...
