During his years of walking the world, the crooked knight came to find himself bemazed within a dark and trackless wood. In this wood, all paths led equally to death.
The crooked knight did not lose hope; he turned to various guides for help and direction. His first guide was Youthful Dream. Later he turned to Friendship, then Duty, and finally Reason, but each left him more lost than had the one before.
So the crooked knight gave himself up for dead and simply sat.
He would be sitting there still, but for a breeze that came upon him then: a breeze that smelled of wide-open spaces, of limitless skies and bright sun, of ice and high mountains.
It was the wind from the dark angels wings.
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Cronicles of one of the Fallen
An account from one of the few who flew with the grace of God,
Challenged the sun, and was burned from the Heavens
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a breeze that smelled of wide-open spaces, of limitless skies and bright sun, of ice and high mountains.
It was the wind from the dark angels wings.