1. I love pyre.

2. this is supposed to be short enough for me to finish without collage getting in the way but no promices.

3. reader is male.

4. have fun.

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The reader was a man in his mid-twenties, though he stopped counting the months since he was exiled. He never took care of his appearance, especially since the nightmares started, but somehow his green eyes still managed to ooze their confidence. That confidence only extended to matters of academia though, his social skills were learned only through novels and the limited time he had to make friends in the downside. Nevertheless, he found himself standing on the edge of freedom. His white robe firmly tied to his back and his book strapped to his belt.

As the reader stepped into the rushing waters of the shimmer pool he had a shard of doubt left. He hadn't slept in days, his mind still rang with that hideous voice, and the ones who he had left behind had been here much longer than he was, that doubt was only a shard though. The moment he touched his bony hands to the liquid pool of light, it all washed away. As promised, the waters rid himself of his guilt and doubt, it soothed him and reminded him. He couldn't stay here. He made a promise.

As if walking out of a dense fog, his mind mind cleared as he was engulfed by the light. The ghost of the voice that had haunted his mind for the last few months mocked him no longer and for the first time since the living on the surface,he cried.

"Jodi, Hedwyn, Pamitha, Shae, Rukey…. I'm coming home."

Within moments, the white light flowing around him blurred the world like fire melted wax and he watched as the grand cathedral melted, its rainbow of stained glass washed away in the sea of light.

He did not remember another time in his life where he felt as calm as he did dream of escape that sandalwood dismissed was coming true. He was going home.

Drowning. He was drowning. Out of the many things he pictured coming home would feel like, the carnal terror of drowning wasn't one of them.

His eyes snapped open and his body lurched up. Gasping and sputtering he broke the surface of the water. After coughing and rubbing his eyes he tried to get a sense of his location. The glowing water that had brought him out of the downside, filled the moss covered stone pool he was in. It looked just as old as many of the most ancient things in the downside, if not more so.

The stone pool was located in the center of a clearing, surrounded by trees whose leaves covered the sky from sight. Stumbling, he exited the pool, his waterlogged shoes feeling the strange ground below him. As he did so, he noticed for the first time how cold it was. Dawn was approaching but it hadn't come yet and he was covered in nearly freezing water. Breathing out, his mind was occupied by more important things.

"Grass. . . Trees. . . how long has it been since I've seen normal trees? " he murmured to himself, not used to the privacy that the surprisingly calm pool rewarded him.

From under his white robes he turned his gaze upward and smiled. He couldn't see much of the sky from his location, but what he did see of it was glowing. It was obvious that the plan was in motion due to the glow of fire. Chuckling, he thought back. His world had ended in fire, sitting in front of his library as the books burned, now theirs world ending. His smile widened while his feet carried him away from the pool.

Suddenly, the calm ripples of the water and the calm breeze against the trees vanished, replaced by the sounds of the chaos. Buildings burned, people screamed, weapons clashed, orders were shouted, soldiers ran, harps flew, and rubble thundered.

"Where am I?"

Confused, he pushed forward, pounding his feet against the turf as the air grew heavy with smoke. The earth below him slowly changed. The soft wet grass disappeared, replaced by cracked old stonework.

Pushing past the verdant forest around him, he emerged, looking towards the city he had sworn never to return to.

Under the smoke tinted stars he feel to his knees, a smile on his face as tears burned down his cheeks. He was to the south, along the abandoned old road with a clear view of the city's silhouette against the horizon.. Nearly fifty multi-story buildings, hewn of white granite and gemstones littered the horizon. Their tinted glass and perfect color had been changed though. The glittering spires, the churches and guards, the world he knew, it was burning.

A crimson tinted smile appeared upon the kneeling man's face. He remembered when his cash of books had been burned. It had been a night much like the one and the parallels were not lost on him. He stared at the forces that had ruined his life, but his smile faltered.

The capital, the thing that he most hated and wanted to see destroyed, made him who he was. He would never have left his home if he hadn't been discovered. He would never have met his friends. Additionally, everyone inside the city didn't make the rules, they didn't deserve this chaos. Slowly, he breathed out, looking out upon the burning city and the countless shapes circling it from the air.

Harps were outlined in the sky, swooping and diving at whatever lie below the vast walls that blocked his sight. Only some didn't come back up. Only then did he realize the death that he had cried for a few seconds earlier. This was killing people, maybe even his friends. He couldn't let that happen. Once again his feet began to move, bearing him back to the place where he thought his life ended. He knew the truth though. His life didn't end there, it began.

The city's spotless walls glistened against the backdrop of the night, having not been scorched yet by the fire. However the stones created a problem. He stood alone along the old road, in the dead of night with his book strapped along his hip and his white robes soaking. The road had miles to go before he could reach the foot of the walls. Additionally, there was no gate left along the old road, at least in his time

The reader stopped running, instead he started thinking. He would constantly summon his friends during the rights and for sandra's trials. What was stopping from doing it now? Still dripping, he unhooked the book from the belt on his robe and placed it gently on old stonework in front of him, its pages smudged and tattered from the water. Rolling up his sleeves, he tried to force himself to stop shaking. He had done it hundreds of times before, this would be nothing different. Breathing out, he closed his green eyes, and started to listen to the memorized verces from the book.

"My name is reader Trenton Ried, and I call upon the scribes and the stars."

His voices was cracked, weak, and terrified, but nevertheless, as he opened his eyes he smiled. The tome of damp pages was floating two feet in the air, sparking with small licks of blue red fire. He knew it was waiting for instructions.

"I call forth Pamitha Theyn of the Nightwings," he ordered, his weak voice ringing out into the night with a force he doubted he could still muster.

The white cloaked reader appeared out of place on the old road and from above. He was one of the only things still left white in the charring chaos of the night and the book in front of the lanky figure was three feet off the ground and surrounded in flames burning.

The red tinted sky shifted as a wave of blue fire engulfed one of the specs on the horizon. A moment later, the ground in front of the hovering book caught fire with the same blue power and a yelp of surprise rang out. As the flames dissipated they left the harp in their wake., clad in the spotless blue and red apparel of the rights.

"Wha-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence before she was embraced by the shorter man.

"You're alive," he said with a sigh of relief, crushing the air out of the wordless woman.

Even though she could squeeze out a word, she wouldn't know what to say. Trenton claimed that he would never be able to leave, he was a reader. He would never participate in the rights. More importantly though, he was hugging her. Crushing her to be more accurate, but still. Despite all of her flirting, she never thought any of Nightwing's really cared for her other than Rukey. She couldn't remember when last she had been hugged like this, maybe never. The heat of his damp body pressed against hers in a way that was intimate in a way she hadn't ever known. If it wasn't crushing her, she might have let it continue.

Two large wings pounded against his embrace, and, realizing what he was doing to her, he let go. Both of them blushing deeply, his eyes tried to find something else in the environment so he wouldn't need to meet her eyes. The harp on the other hand stared at the shorter man like it was the first time, trying to pick out something of importance from his disheveled hair, sleepless eyes, and short stature that could explain why he just acted in the way he did. Her search was unsuccessful.

"What now?" she asked, her voice missing the flirtatious tone.

Trying to put his emotions aside until the sky wasn't ablaze, he was happy to focus on the problem at hand. "I need to get over that wall," he said, his eyes locked on the horizon. Looking closer, the crimson winged harp realized what he intended, and why he called on her. The gate nearest the path was just a pile of jagged rubble. There was no way a man like him could climb it, no way anyone could climb it.

Pamitha turned to face the reader, her sky blue eyes full of disbelief. "You can't be serious." Trenton's awkward chuckle gave her all the terrible confirmation she needed. " You're insane," she concluded, for once struck nearly wordless by the awkward scholar.

A coy smile returned back to his pale features as the reader met her eyes. "That's what they said about reading."