Title: How It Feels
Summary: It's been a long hot spell.
Summary: Rowan Challenge 05: The "random quote" challenge. Find a random quote from a book on your shelf -- let it be your inspiration and guide.
Inspiration sentence: "They are able to fly all over the globe, so long as none of them makes the mistake of uttering the name of Christ while in flight." . . . . from A History of Witchcraft: Sorcerers, Heretics and Pagans, by Jeffery B. Russell.
He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t love the feel of flight. The wind against his skin, the sound of nothing but his own heartbeat or the squawk of the occasional startled bird, the sight of the ground so far below, the knowledge that he was far away from all the things of earthly living that pricked at him… it all added to the rush. Soaring far above all else, everyone and everything, losing himself to the sensation.
He wondered what his friends would think if they knew about this little talent.
He had always been able to fly, and as far as he knew there wasn’t another person on earth who could. His mother had never explained why he could or why she wasn’t surprised that he could. But then, she had died so young, and he had been so little, that perhaps she just wasn’t given the opportunity. Maybe she had been waiting for him to be older and really able to understand the reasons, and in the meantime simply enjoyed the sight of her son thrilling at his talent.
And it was a talent, to just lift his arms and allow the wind to catch him up. To be able to glide among the clouds at whim. To soar with the birds, enjoying the feel of his hair blowing around his neck. It was the most exhilarating thing he’d ever experienced.
Well, okay, one of. And the only one that didn’t involve his lover.
For a long time after his Ma had died he hadn’t been able to fly, and he had thought maybe it had been a gift his mother gave him rather than something he himself could do. But then, after many miserable group homes and neglectful foster houses of too many children, he had landed with the Mayes family. A solid middle-class family with twin boys and a girl all within a year of his own age; the father had been attentive, the mother doting, and the children open and friendly. The school he had been placed in had been welcoming, his teacher friendly and helpful. For the first time since his beloved Ma’s death, he had felt wanted rather than tolerated, welcomed rather than endured.
He had been happy.
And once again, he flew.
It was then that he had realized that, just like in the storybooks, happiness was needed to fly. Happy thoughts could get him off the ground, and with practice even take him on short trips. To soar required true happiness. But he learned to achieve that too – memories of happy times could be delved on, re-experienced in the present if he just focused on the good things the memories brought. Memories of his Ma could be translated into the good things he had learned from her, the good he had done in the world because of her. And life with the Mayes had brought a new joy to his life that had made reaching the heavens possible again.
After he had graduated high school he had gone off to the army, figuring his grades weren’t worth the money the Mayes would have willingly offered to send him to college. He had been modestly happy in the army; not enough to truly enjoy the skies as he once had, but he was too busy anyway and there were always people around. After leaving the army he had chased bounties for a while, and that had been okay too, but still nothing had truly given him the bliss required to achieve that highest event. He had come to believe it was a sacrifice of growing up, losing the ability to feel that complete and utter delight, that total spiritual harmony. He had come to accept it would never quite be the same again.
And then he had met Chris, and hope blossomed. He had met Nathan and Buck and Josiah, and the hope grew.
He met Ezra, and he knew bliss again.
Since the day that dimpled smile had walked into his life and danced into his bed, he had only one true regret: that while he had been able to share his secret with his love, he could not share this experience with the person who had given him the ability to have it himself once again. That he had to leave Ezra on the ground behind him every time he took wing.
Ezra had promised that he got what he suspected was the same feeling whenever he watched Vin take flight. And Vin knew that their relationship was to Ezra the same as the feeling of flying among the clouds. Magical, unexplainable. It was for him too, and the thrill of knowing he could give Ezra that feeling was usually what caused him to fly these days.
If only someday he could figure out how to teach Ezra to fly with him.