Stephen Zimmer - Dream of Legends

“I have been a good judge of men throughout my life, and I see no reason why my senses should begin failing me now,” Ulfcytel replied. His gaze then became a little narrower, as his voice evened out. “Do not disappoint me in this.”

“If this task comes to success, then know that you have been a great part of it,” Wulfstan stated. “Without you, I could not take this path.”

“It is simply good to see such courage in one man,” Ulfcytel said. “That I will not impede. Fly to success in your quest!”

Raising his right hand to bid him well, Ulfcytel guided his steed sharply off to the left, leaving Wulfstan by himself. After just a few moments, Wulfstan felt isolated. There was little else but the sounds of the steed’s flapping wings, and the winds whipping brusquely about his ears.

Banking his own steed off to the left, Wulfstan was careful to put some more distance between himself and the battlefield. His mission was reckless enough, and he did not need to endanger it further by being needlessly careless.

He took Ulfcytel’s words to heart regarding the dangers of encountering enemy sky riders. If he was caught out in the open sky by trained, veteran sky warriors, especially by the powerful brutes whose kind had nearly killed him in the attack on the Saxan encampment, then he was as good as dead.

Wulfstan craned his neck all around, scanning the upper skies for the unique, white patch he had sighted from the ground. He espied it rather quickly, set against the blue sky with nothing to obstruct his view of it. Fortuitously, he saw that it was located up and even farther to the left of him, situated well away from the battle lines. Seeing it from the higher altitude, the patch looked much larger in size.

Even so, he could tell that it was still a very long distance away. Steadying his nerves, and letting out another extended, relaxing exhalation, Wulfstan said one more silent prayer to the Almighty. He then guided Spirit Wing to the left, angling up into another steep incline. The heavy, pulling sensation returned to his back, and again he braced his feet more forcefully in the stirrups.

He kept his eyes fixed on the white patch as he soared into the upper skies on the back of the winged steed, wrestling with the numerous feelings sweeping through him. The enemy was now of little concern. Wulfstan’s assessment of the skies, and his own proximity to the battle lines prior to the ascension, had shown that the enemy forces were far away. Furthermore, they had probably suffered a high enough cost in the day’s fighting, such that they would not be inclined to follow a lone rider well behind the Saxan lines; and certainly not one who was recklessly striving for the uppermost heights.

The dizzying flight continued to pull him farther and farther away from the battlefield and encampments. His head was rigidly set forward, steadfastly refusing to look below, as he set all of his thoughts upon his intended destination. He was not about to turn back, and there was little sense in courting more fears that would only serve to distract or disrupt.

Wulfstan clenched the reins even tighter, as he decided to lean forward and tuck his head in closer to the neck of the beast. It was as if he subconsciously wanted to fuse himself into the creature, and acquire the inner security that would come with being a living part of a beast with wings. He was painfully conscious of the reality that his own natural form did not possess the necessary tools for flight.

A layer of clouds was drifting into sight, directly ahead of him, now crossing his path. From below, it looked to have a rather flat-bottomed underside, like a great, stretched cloak, bearing along with it some accumulations of a kind of puffy, light-gray effluvium. In some ways, it resembled the thick fogs that cloaked the hills and valleys of his homeland in the ambience of a cool, misty morning.

Wulfstan kept himself steeled, as the Himmeros continued to rapidly ascend, gaining increasing height until the misty wisps of the first cloud layer caressed and wrapped around both man and Himmeros alike. Wulfstan and Spirit Wing then plunged into the heart of the cool vapors. His world became an impenetrable mass of light gray, until he abruptly burst forth into the embrace of sunlight once again.

While looking very flat on the bottom, the cloud mass held a spectrum of varying contours on the other side. In many places, the formations stretched upward, towering above him like great hills, while other areas of the cloud mass were comprised of lower, undulating textures, such as the particular location where he had passed through the vaporous substance.

It was an amazing vista to behold, and his eyes were mesmerized for several moments as he looked out over the rolling, cloud-landscape. Obstructing his view of the land far below, the sight also brought a bit of comfort to his raw, rattled nerves.

Inspired by his passage above the first cloud layer, Wulfstan focused his resolve to an even greater degree, as he looked up towards the white patch beckoning to him from farther above. Eager to traverse the remaining distance to it, he spurred the Himmeros onward.

“Spirit Wing, reach that pure white cloud, the one you see far ahead,” Wulfstan urged the steed in a loud voice.

He knew that while the beast might not understand his words, it might sense his intentions in some subtle way, and perhaps derive some impetus from them. Animals often appeared to possess a sixth sense, and Wulfstan was not about to underestimate the perceptiveness of such an incredible creature as Spirit Wing.

It took a short while for them to reach the next level of clouds, and Wulfstan nearly avoided having to pass through them. They were prominent, puffy masses, scattered all about the high altitude, as if amorphous blotches of white had been woven randomly into an aqua tapestry. The bodies of the towering, vaporous formations were much more vertical than horizontal, and were separated by wide swathes of unsullied, blue-green sky.

Wulfstan saw the unique white patch marking his destination looming ever larger ahead of him, but his angle of approach ended up taking him through one of the dispersed, bulging masses of vapor. The passage through the towering expanse took a little longer than going through the lower mass had. Wulfstan and his steed broke out into the open again, just short of the uppermost reaches of the soaring cloud mass.

As they continued to climb upward, he began to notice some disturbing changes occurring within his immediate environment. The cooling of the air about him had not been bothersome before, but an icy, discomfiting chill had begun to take root.

They were approaching a broad, third layer of clouds. The layer ahead was already in a position to intersect with their path, as its vanguard blotted out Wulfstan’s view of his snow-white objective. During the same period, his breathing began to become much more labored, and his heart rate sharply increased.

Unease drifted to the forefront of his mind, and he refocused the force of his thoughts towards the oncoming layer of clouds. The third layer looked to be more of a long, linear array of billowing white clouds. As the clouds themselves were an incredible phenomenon to experience, and he needed something to concentrate on, Wulfstan determined to observe them a little closer, as he passed through their midst.

At the very least, the clouds could offer him some distractions from the mounting anxieties plaguing him from within. His diagonal ascent took him straight into the body of the clouds, and he felt the cool dampness engulf him.

When he had entered the third mass of clouds, the world again became an enveloping, unblemished sheet of gray, for several moments. In some ways, it was like existing within a realm of absolute, formless nothingness until he was freed back into the sunlight.