These were the days he lived for.

It’s a long way down, he thought with a grin pushing up the edges of his mouth. Wind was whipping past
his head, tousling his already unkempt hair and making waves in the tall grass of the cliff’s edge; the
clouds made their way across the sky, etching out a pattern of dark spots with interspersed light on the
fields and hills far below. He knelt there, peering over the edge with his highly polished steel armor and
white paludamentu, a sort of cape attached at one shoulder and wrapped around the front of his neck to
the other shoulder, in anticipation and perhaps a little anxiety over what he was about to do. It wasn’t
exactly fear, just butterflies in a way; he always had them right before he jumped. He pushed himself up
with his gaze fixed downward still, his eyes squinting in the bright morning sunlight breaking through the
clouds as he took a few steps back. The feeling of freedom is what he always loved about it… the
sensation that nothing mattered in those few moments but him and his existence, and the sky; the big,
open, free sky that stretched from seemingly endless horizon to horizon. If only life could be like this all
the time, he thought to himself with a lighthearted chuckle. He took a deep breath, blowing it out through
pursed lips as he detached the paludamentu from his shoulder, setting it aside on the grass next to his
ankles. He’d come back for it later, but right now it would only get in the way. He closed his eyes and
lifted his chin upward, closing his eyes as he felt the warmth of the sun hitting him. Raising his arms
skyward with palms open and fingers outstretched, he silently breathed out thanks to the God that gave
him the senses he possessed to capture the beauty of this world, and more importantly, life itself. And
with that, his eyes opened in an expression of fierce determination as he dropped his gaze to focus
straight ahead, lowering his arms to his sides with fists clenched. Shoving one leg behind himself, putting
himself in a semi-kneeling stance, his legs suddenly burst with strength and speed, pumping each
furiously as he began a desperate run for the edge. He let out a few heavy breaths when, in a split
second, he kicked himself free of terra firma just at the cliff’s edge, arms out stretched with wind once
again whipping over him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, savoring this sensation, trying to make a
mental picture of it to carry with him after this moment ended. The whole experience--the force of the wind
blowing over his body, the relentless tug of gravity, the beat of his heart trying to keep up with it all; this
was what he did it for. Every time, every second thought, every chance of death, it all made this single
moment worth it all. His eyes opened, seeing himself plummeting to the earth below with only a few
seconds to spare between him and certain death, threw out two surprisingly large, white-feathered wings
from his back, throwing his arms down to his sides. His magnificent outstretched wings reached from one
edge of his periphery to the other, as they both swung down in a forceful, muscular push against the
fierce wind current billowing over him. He was in complete control, loving every second of it. He dipped
within mere feet of the earth beneath him and could see the ripple affect his body created on the grass
below him, an affect from the push of his massive wings against gravity, moving at a speed that easily
bested the fastest athletes. He faced forward, finally leveling out parallel to the ground as his wings began
to beat with increasing strength. He pushed himself upward, higher, disembarking from the ground only
an arm’s length away.