As much as he did not show it externally, inside his mind, Damian had a sense of disbelief and amazement.
Ever since the power that he held was shattered eight summers ago, he knew that being a Warrior was an impossibility for him. Something that would never happen in his life. Something that he had mourned in silence during countless nights spent farming fields that should have been beneath him.
He remembered the Warriors of the empire who were so profoundly powerful that they could take to the skies and conjure the elements with a wave of their hands. He remembered watching them train in the courtyards of the Vakochev palace, fire and lightning dancing around their forms as they practiced techniques that seemed like miracles to his young eyes.
He remembered his mother and father.
And how on some nights, when he was young, as dangerous as it was...
His Ama took him in her arms as she soared to the skies.
As much as this was his first flight, it wasn't truly his first flight.
