Once, in his previous life, he attempted to fly on cloth wings. He only flew for a few seconds and gained a back injury from it. Though he didn't die, he realized how painful the ground could be. He learned to fear heights, and his knees shook any time he peered over a ledge.
Then one day he looked up at the sky, sneered, and put the cloth wings back on. He nearly passed out in terror, but he did it. He flew. There is, he learned, nothing better than soaring above the land and nothing more frightening.
It's a secret, but he's still afraid of heights. She's just gotten better at ignoring it. It's a juxtaposition of sorts that she continues to put herself in a position to plummet despite his fear of falling. Admittedly, being slung through the sky while dressed like a penguin had not been her choice of going out.
She continues through the clouds never losing momentum, and the instinctive terror slowly loses its sway. Her temporary flight is made easier by her tinted goggles, and she finds herself enjoying the view. This whole experience is incredible enough that she has no regrets.
The silence is beautiful, she thinks as she passes through the clouds and further up beyond.
It's sudden when gravity takes hold, and she doesn't realize she's falling until a few moments in. It's only then that she realizes the ground is far too close. She had went straight up long enough for her to accept her inevitable death, but the dark speck beneath her is about to greet her face faster that she can say—
"Don't let me—" wake up as someone else.
Her unsaid words are less of a plea and more of a threat. Should she wind up in another body not of her choosing, she's going to become a dark lord or the equivalent of. It's only fair.
Perhaps some higher force hears her promise because she's caught in a net made of vines that slows her descent. The vines toss her back into the air and into another net that springs her into yet another. It's a repeated process that eventually leaves her hanging an arm's length from the ground.
Her flippers hang loosely through the netting, and she catches her breath. Blinking dazedly at the ground, she attempts to figure her life out.
"What the fu—"
"Dad! Dad! There's someone in the Catch U!" A childish shout cuts her curse short.
"So there is! Oh, that suit, I wonder if? Mella, stay there, okay?" It's a deeper, more lyrical voice; a male one if she has to guess.
Her attempts to pull her arms free fail, and she senses something moving above her. The netting goes lax, and she hits the ground face first. I'm definitely alive, she thinks as her helmet digs into her forehead. No dark lord shenanigans for her then.
"Are you okay?"
Large hands lift her up by the armpits, and she hangs loose in the grip of a tall man with long, black hair and beady eyes. Behind him are white wings that nearly touch the ground. She blinks a few times, but the feathered wings don't disappear. She doesn't believe in angels, but this is a convincing argument.
"No, I was just shot out of a seashell from an island made of ice," she says honestly.
"You came from Blue Rooz Island then," the man nods knowingly.
She waits for him to say something, but the man seems content to continue holding her like a small child. His face looks oddly familiar. Before she can ponder on it, an actual small child bursts from the strangely fluffy bushes.
"Dad, are they alive?" The small child asks while biting their lip.
"They are, but I need just a moment, Mella," the man says patiently.
Mella, the child, shifts with a pout while their wings remain motionless. There's a harness wrapped around Mella's upper body, but the more important thing she notices is that the tunic the child wears is of a familiar design.
"Are you Luza's people?" She asks.
She's dropped immediately, and she lands on her feet with a wince. The man leans into her personal space with wide eyes, and she reaches for Tsubasa de Tobu's hilt instinctively.
"How do you know that name?" He demands.
She keeps a light touch when it becomes clear the man isn't actively hostile. He seems more surprised and worried than anything. Keeping a wary eye on parent and child, she backs up a step so he's not fogging up her goggles.
"He saved me. He's also the one who put me in the seashell, so he almost killed me too," she answers, muttering that last bit.
"Impossible. Luza's dead. He was dying when we left," the man denies with a paling face.
"I assure you, he's in very good, fire-breathing health. Lonely though and the supplies you left won't last forever," she says pointedly.
She's a little bitter that a whole people would abandon a child to such a place. Perhaps there's something more to the situation though; the horrified face looking at her gives her cause to think so.
"Who are you?" The man demands.
"Kuina. And you?" She asks.
"Lushu, Luza's uncle," the man says, holding a hand to his forehead theatrically. "This is my daughter, Mella."
The child waves at her shyly, and she waves a flipper back in reply. The beaming smile she receives leaves her with mixed feelings. Little children always leave her at a loss on how to interact with them.
"Clearly we have much to discuss. Please follow me to the village," Lushu requests with a frown.
She considers her surroundings. Fuzzy trees tower above her and green grass lies beneath her feet. She doubts this place is in the middle of winter even with the clouds hovering overhead like a mist.
"There's no snow here, right?" She waits for Lushu's negative answer before gesturing to her outfit, "Let me get out of this stupid thing first."
She hates this Rooz suit with all her heart and getting out of it by herself is a headache and a half. To her surprise, Lushu helps once she's stuck attempting to untie the back of the suit. Practiced hands help her out of the rest of the suit, and she's soon free to breathe in terribly dry air.
"I remember having to wear these awful things. Everyone else will, I'm sure," Lushu says wistfully, rolling up the suit and carrying it off.
Mella grabs her by the hand, tugging her after the man. She freezes for a second before loosening her body and following after the child with small steps. She carefully keeps her hand away from her sword. She has no doubt Lushu is watching her intensely.
"The village is really neat. You'll like it there. There's a huge tree that grows lots of Bimser apples in the center! It's got lots of stones around it, and Mom drew a flower on one. She draws lots of flowers even on our house and—"
Mella rambles on, and she absorbs as much of it as she can. It's useful information if nothing else. She makes an agreeing sound and nods every now and then. It seems to be enough for Mella who is determined to tell her as much about the island in the shortest amount of time as possible.
She's currently on a piece of land called Cherub Island. It floats in the sky. Dials—the seashell that carried her here—are used to get around. Mella's not allowed to use them to fly alone just yet, but it's a lot of fun, she's told. The girl is still getting used to the weight of her wings, and hey, where are hers?
"I don't have wings," she says flatly.
It's an obvious statement, but for whatever reason the girl lets out a shocked gasp. Wings must be an important facet of life here then.
"You don't?" Mella asks with wide eyes.
"No," she says solemnly.
"Dad, she doesn't have wings!" Mella cries.
"I'm sure if she really wants them, Shoka can make her a pair," Lushu says soothingly.
She has no doubt Lushu only says as much to quiet Mella. Still, examining the unnatural stillness of their wings and Mella's harness, she comes to the conclusion that the wings must be artificial. If this man really is Luza's uncle, then it makes sense.
What doesn't make sense is why there's a floating island, why Luza's family abandoned him, and why there's currently a small child attached to her hand. Mella swings their linked hands, and she considers that the child simply likes watching her long sleeve move.
"I never knew there were islands in the sky," she comments.
"Cherub is a sky island. Supposedly our people came from one, but we lost our wings and our way home. But our new home is just as good as we hoped for. It's better than endless snow," Lushu tells her.
She can agree with that sentiment. Even if the rolling clouds make her ache for the blue sky, the temperature is neither too hot nor too cold, and there's lush greenery everywhere. It's a far cry from Blue Rooz Island.
Small houses that look more like grand tents come into view, and large, ornate Dials litter the area. She cranes her neck to watch winged figures flying overhead. A person lands safely into a net made of vines, and she counts her blessings for her own safe landing.
"This is—," Lushu gestures in front of him.
"Seraph Village!" Mella intercedes with a shout.
Not angels indeed, she thinks with a grimace. She rather hopes the names are simply a coincidence. Religion crossing worlds isn't a can of worms she's willing to deal with.
Lushu leads her to a house with realistic flowers painted down the sides of it. She's ushered inside to a lovely room filled with blankets and pillows. It's small compare to Luza's Lodge, but it has an airy, lived-in feel to it.
"Go find your mom and tell her we have guests," Lushu orders, ruffling Mella's hair affectionately.
"Fine," Mella pouts before disappearing further into the house.
She takes a seat on a cushion and crosses her arms. Next to her, Lushu sits down and folds his hands over his face. In the ensuing silence, she admires the flower decorations plastered all over the room. Flowers made of strings hang up, and she assumes the badly made ones must have been made by Mella. How different this small house feels compared to Luza's lonely large one.
"Tell me everything. Is my nephew truly alive?" Lushu finally asks.
She doesn't hold back. She starts from the moment she woke up on top of Belko to the moment she left by way of Dial. A chubby woman with dark, curly hair interrupts to hand her a cup of juice but remains silent while she recounts her brief stay in ice hell.
"He said his father was dying?" Lushu asks with a frown.
"Yes, he said he promised to look after the Rooz in his place," she nods.
Lushu's face grows dark, and she takes a long sip of her juice. It's an unusual taste; the plants growing here must be completely different from the islands down below. The woman hands her a pastry, and she bites into it without hesitation.
"There is nothing wrong with my brother. He lives happily on the Northside as their tribe leader. He told me Luza was dying and wanted to stay with Rooz in his final moments," Lushu tells her. "Please give me a moment. I need to think on a few things."
"Dear, don't do anything reckless," the woman warns sternly.
"I'm just going for a flight over the gardens, don't fret. This is my wife, Melnia," Lushu introduces before leaving.
She's not going to say she's jealous that anyone here can "just go for a flight," but she glances at Melnia's wings with longing. She wants to know how their travel method differs from falling, wants to know what their wings are made of.
"Mella's waiting for you outside. She wants to show you around," Melnia says, taking the now empty cup from her.
"You shouldn't trust your daughter with a stranger. Especially one with a sword," she says.
"But you're not a stranger, are you? You've eaten my food, sat in my house, and befriended my nephew. It makes you family, dear. Now go on and play," Melnia laughs before throwing her out the door.
Lushu and Melnia are so welcoming, it's jarring. This must be where Luza gets it from. She knows how to deal with weary, broken people, knows how to interact with self-entitled idiots. Nice people always leave her baffled, never mind the children who aren't trying to knock her unconscious.
"Kuina, over here!" Mella waves from a nearby fountain.
She reluctantly moves towards the girl while sending out a prayer: dear Whoever, please keep her from traumatizing this little girl. She has no hope her prayers will be answered, but at least she tried. Mella grabs her by the hand and yanks her past the houses, mouth going at supersonic speeds.
"That's where we make the jam for our apple toasties, and over there is where Mr. Shono makes the dye for our clothes. That's dye, D-Y-E, not die. And Mom helps makes basket with Ms. Kika over there—"
Her nod and hum method hasn't failed her yet, and Mella accepts her responses as devoted interest. The little girl distracts her from the unnerving stares aimed at her back if nothing else. Mella swings their hands, and the impression that the girl likes her sleeves gets stronger.
She has no idea how long she'll be stuck here, or if she can even leave. An ocean she can deal with; an island way up in the sky, not so much. Offering her services as a seamstress might be a good idea for the moment.
"Your father said something about your uncle being on the Northside as a leader?" She prods once Mella goes quiet.
"Uncle Luku lives on the Northside as the leader!" Mella nods as if she hadn't just said as much.
"What is the Northside?" She asks more directly.
Mella brightens up before going into lecture mode. Apparently the island is divided into sections, a North, a South, an East, and a West. Each section has a different height level, main village, and leader. Lushu is the current leader of Seraph Village which is located on the Westside and is the second highest section.
"Let me guess. The Northside is the highest section?" She asks.
"Yep! Uncle Luku rules over Erel Village! Except I'm not supposed to say 'rules over.' " Mella says conspiringly.
Well that bodes well. Her Shitty Father alarm already went off once Luza mentioned promising to take care of a strong, independent species as a helpless child. She adds "possible megalomaniac" to her mental notes.
She knows how cruel people can be in their desire to dominate others. She can only guess what it must feel like to be on the highest level, overlooking the other villages below. If she adds in the clues from Blue Rooz Island—an entire people forced into close quarters to depend on each other to now where they're spread apart—she doesn't like the figures adding up.
"Mella, does anyone fight here?" She asks.
"Not really. Oh! Some guy from the Eastside tried to punch Dad one time, but Dad is the strongest! So Dad threw him back down where he belongs!" Mella laughs obnoxiously.
Where he belongs, she grimaces. Well, maybe she won't be here too long. If these people found a way up to this island, then they must be able to figure a way down from it.
Mella continues the tour, and after chasing off other curious children with an indignant huff, takes her to a garden to make flower crowns. She's never made a flower crown, and Mella takes it as a personal offense.
"No, no, no. Like this!" Mella scowls, twisting stems together effortlessly.
"Forgive me for my sins," she utters flatly.
It takes her a few times to get it right—the fuzzy flowers feel like fur and it keeps making her lose focus—but she ends up with a wonky flower crown; it's a mess compared to Mella's perfect white and pink one.
"Put it on!" Mella tells her with giddiness, perfect flower crown in place.
She does, and the band of flowers snaps apart instantly. Howling with laughter, Mella steps in to remake the flower crown, and she finds herself with a band of purple, pink, and yellow on her head. The girl claps in delight as she adjusts it out of her eyes.
"Kuina, I'd like for—oh, Mella, that's a great job!" Lushu gushes from behind her.
"I'm going to make one for Mom too!" Mella says, already picking flowers.
"Don't pick too many. You know your mother likes looking at the flowers. Kuina and I are going to visit your uncle Luku for a while. Tell your mom for me," Lushu says, rubbing Mella's head affectionately.
The girl pouts but sees them off with a wave, and Lushu's friendly façade slowly breaks away into a glower. As the hostility doesn't seem aimed her way, she maintains a relaxed pace with the man. They stop in front of a Dial larger than the others, and she waits patiently.
"I took some time to think it through," Lushu says, "and I've decided I'm going to punch my brother in the face."
"Sounds good," she nods.
Lushu looks up to the rolling clouds above them and sneers. She has no doubt that is where Luku must be. She tries to imagine that kind of man related to good people like Luza and Lushu and fails.
"No matter how I look at it, he lied to me. He lied to my nephew. I'm going to hit him so hard his teeth break, and then I'm going to ask him to explain," Lushu scowls.
"I warn you now. If his explanation has no defense, I'm tossing him off the island," she says frostily.
She's going to break his wings first though. She's not merciful enough to give people like Luku a second chance.
"If it comes down to that, I won't stop you," Lushu says with a tight smile.
She has no wings to control her landing, so Lushu will carry her. She puts Tsubasa de Tobu on her back, and adjusts the flower crown tighter on her head.
Holding her to his hip like a small child, Lushu steps into the dial and slams a palm against the side. She experiences a second of "oh shit, here we go again" before she's thrown forward into the sky. She closes her eyes and digs her fingers into Lushu's shirt. The man briefly tightens his arms around her.
The sound of wooden clacking grabs her attention, and she takes a peek. Lushu's wings shift against an air current, and it hits her that she is actually flying. Looking around with wide eyes, she feels Lushu's laughter rumbling against her.
(She doesn't know how, but she's going to get her a pair. She needs them.)
Once again, thanks for leaving a review. It fuels me like coffee but even better.