09-06-2016, 11:48 AM
To most, what happens is a violation, a stripping of their birthrights, their essences. He hears cries of dismay as they go down the mountain, watches their bodies morph and change as magic is taken back into Beqanna’s breast.
He, however, is thrilled.
He moves as quick as he can to the invisible threshold, does not know quite what to expect, but oh---
His body seems to solidify, his skin darkens from its once translucent state to a richer red color, the roaning more obvious now. He becomes heavier, denser, goes from glass to solid object. Even his wings – once delicate, paper-thin, with a small knot where the hollow bones had broken and healed – change, thicken, turn into lushly feathered things, the kind of wings that could bear heavy things aloft. He flexes them, tentatively, is awed by both their weight and his own ability to support them.
He has never dared to think of this, that perhaps he could change. That he could have the kind of body that does not live in fear of breaking.
(He wonders, too, if Adaline is on the mountain, if she will come down, if the same magic will be worked on her, and oh, his heart quickens at the thought even as he wonders if she would still want him if she is made whole.)
He walks, solid and winged, a smile blooming on his face like wildflowers. Beqanna can have his magic, he is freed.
contagion
be careful making wishes in the dark