His wings beat in a perfect rhythm, flap, flap, flap. The ground racing by far below him.

The first true feeling of freedom he had experienced in weeks, months even. Oh, it felt good, it felt even better than the first time. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was a hawk instead of a simple blackbird or because the wind ruffled his feathers delicately as those wings beat so effortlessly to stay aloft. Something about it was simply serene.

The very wind soared over and around him. The act sending his memories back to when he escaped Urgost’s dungeon with this very trick, how mad he would have been. How angry he still must be. To his surprise, it made him happy, a little bit of sweet revenge from the years of hatred building between them.

His mood quickly turned sour as the guilt slowly faded in, he had abandoned everyone else for a fool’s errand. They had lost two elves instead of one.

His small lungs didn’t need much sustaining as he breathed in the fresh, clean air. Freedom. That’s what he tasted, pure and undeniable freedom. Between Urgost and his dungeon. The Elder and his control. Terandriell didn’t want to return to Athaldris to face either of them.

The Elder had tried to contact him again, but the connection was weak and strained. Perhaps his hold in this world was all but spent. The only reassurance after what had happened, the violation that had been done to him.

Tilting his hawk head, he noticed that he was the only animal in sight, no birds fluttered in the sky, no creatures dwelled below. Even the insects in the ground seemed to cower or flee.

Why he didn’t do this more he had no idea, it was exhilarating! The pure joy of it all, to fly above the world and watch it pass by. The tranquillity of it too, no one to bother him. He could live like this forever.

His mind snapped to the task ahead, what had happened to Felgourn? He had assumed the god had teleported towards the Portal and the dark fortress that was in construction around it. It was the logical assumption.

The horrible, wicked things they could do. That they would do. He had to get Felgourn out before they tried anything. He was the person Terandriell got on least within the StormBlades, their views often differed with each other, but they were still friends, family even.

He could see it sprawled before him, the stones and boulders looking more like a dark keep than they had a mere few weeks ago. He had to admit, it was an impressive feat to accomplish so quickly. Helped by those towering minotaur’s capable of carrying rocks that twenty men would struggle with.

They had set up a perimeter, with homes dotted all over a three-mile radius. The dark night did nothing to stop his hawk eyes, he could make out the buildings and even the people clearly even with him being hundreds of feet above the treeline. No goblins though, just minotaurs. They seemed to be creating a village. Somewhere to live and enjoy life. Curious.

His eyes drifted as a slight blue spark emanated from the treeline below, Human mages were dotted around the barrier, casting their magic at it, trying to keep the beasts contained? He attempted to scoff but let out a screech instead, forgetting what form he was currently in.

Humans, so outmatched and outnumbered, yet they remained hopeful. It was admirable really, their sheer will to survive. Life seems more precious to the mortals, especially with them being limited to only sixty or seventy years, they had to make the most of what was given.

He liked the queen, liked Jason and even a few of the guards. Yet, even if they survived this all, age would steal them all from him in a few blinks of his eye. Maybe he should distance himself from them if only to prevent the hurt later. Immortality. A curse and a blessing, he squawked again.

The towers of the dark keep grew and grew as he approached, the very air here tasted foul as he kept flapping those wings, travelling at a speed impossible to match thanks to his magic warping the wind in his favour. It wouldn’t be long until he arrived. He just hoped it was quick enough.

The city was huge, he gawked at the sheer immense size of it. How would they ever defeat this foe, with their weapons of mass destruction and impenetrable walls of metal and stone. They had no chance. Towers were dotted approximately every hundred meters, some built but most still under construction. Ballistae or catapults perched atop the towers that were erected, ready to rain hell down upon any army that marched upon them.

The dark sky above hovered like a giant net, waiting to ensnare any foes stupid enough to come close. He dived down to get a better look before moving any closer. Even the grass and trees were all but dead. Most of which had been burnt and used for the kindling of the great fires roaring amongst the array of tents and inside the castle itself. Brutish barbarians. They had no respect for nature, his eyes narrowed.

Their disrespect for the natural world sent Terandriell into a deep, unsettling rage. As he flapped his wings forward with all his might towards the fortress of despair. Wanting nothing better than to wipe every one of these creatures off the face of the earth.

Then it happened, the fear gripped him first, totally unaware of what was happening before he realized that his wings froze. He propelled himself into a glide with his magic, using the wind to begin his descent towards the devils below. It only took a few moments before his magic failed him too, and he fell.

He delved deeper and deeper into his core, for any scrap of magic remaining, something. Any shred that could save him from this as the ground approached, fast. Too fast. And he crashed.

Terandriell was back in his elf form, his death smelled rotten here, full of anguish and terror. He could feel it filling his nostrils. His body lay bent and broken, every morsel of him aching, pleading for it to end.

Terandriell had felt pain before but nothing like this. The gods had abandoned him, every bone in his body shattered with no power to stop it, end any of it. He fluttered in and out of consciousness.

Nothing.

Nothing happened for what felt like a lifetime, nothing stirred. Laying there, he could do nothing but die, slowly and painfully. His eyes closed for a moment.

Footsteps. Or was it hooves?

He cracked open his too heavy eyelids, thankful for the darkness around him, caressing him, welcoming him. Perhaps this was his time.

A hairy hooved foot appeared in front of him. A grunt from above, his eyes closed again, just for a moment. His body screaming in agony as he was lifted, he had nothing left to give to this world anyway, it didn’t really matter.

He opened his eyes briefly. He was at least ten feet in the air as he looked down at those same hooves, down below an extremely black-silver haired back. He drifted again.

Huge hands settled him down on something soft, comfortable. With as much care as it could muster. He was dreaming, he must be dreaming. Or maybe he was dead already, his breathing still shallow.

“Hmph.” Came the grunt, reverberating through his broken body. A large hand was placed on his upper leg with delicacy and then another on his ankle, the position wasn’t right. Then a scream. His scream bellowed from somewhere deep within him as those large hands snapped his leg, not to break it further but to put it back into place.

Terandriell didn’t remember blacking out after that.