The wind was different out here.
It didn't hum with sacred silence, or swirl with ancient power. It didn't carry the scent of sixteen titanic beasts, or the familiar heat of dragonfire at dusk. This wind…
It smelled like life.
Bread baking in the distance.
Flowers blooming in undisturbed fields.
Iron. Dust. Bark. Rain.
The world.
Raelus stood on a cliff overlooking the valley below—the edge of the floating Sanctuary at his back for the first time. Below him lay forests he'd only seen in the vision-branches of Sylvarion, rivers Mirelya described in lullabies, and far beyond… rooftops.
Tiny, square-cut rooftops. Like toys scattered by a playful god.
"A village," Raelus whispered to himself. "Real people."
He smiled.
It was the smile of a boy seeing sunlight for the first time—if that boy was carved like a celestial prince and glowed with power most armies would envy.
His coat fluttered in the breeze, shifting subtly with his movement—now looking more traveler's cloak than ceremonial robe. His boots adjusted to the terrain, soles gripping gently. His tail coiled lazily behind him as he crouched.
"Alright," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Time to make friends. Or confuse some locals. Maybe both."
And with a burst of wind barely audible, he stepped off the cliff—falling like a leaf—then flaring his wings and coasting low into the world below.
⸻
After flying for some time, he landed on a dirt trail just before the treeline.
It was warm. Slightly muddy. Birds sang overhead.
Raelus looked around, eyes glowing faintly with excitement.
"Okay… okay, first impressions matter. Let's not accidentally vaporize a tree. Or sneeze lightning. Or charm someone by blinking too hard."
He adjusted himself, took a deep breath… and walked.
Every few steps, he'd pause—staring at a squirrel, crouching to smell a flower, or poking a rock to see if it did something magical. (It didn't.)
By the time he heard the first voices in the distance, he'd already befriended a wild fox, a pair of birds, and convinced a floating wisp that he wasn't lost.
"Technically I'm discovering. Very different."
⸻
First Encounter
⸻
The road widened ahead.
And on it… two travelers.
A middle-aged man leading a cart, and a girl—maybe sixteen—walking beside it, both wearing simple wool cloaks and wide eyes as Raelus approached.
He smiled warmly.
"Hi there!"
They froze.
Their eyes flicked from his boots to his coat to the glowing pendant at his chest… and then to his horns. And tail.
The girl took a step back.
The man dropped the reins.
"Y-you're…"
Raelus raised his hands slowly, grinning.
"Not a threat! I swear! I'm just… passing through. Kinda new. To roads. And people. And baked goods. Do you know where the nearest town is?"
The man blinked.
Then whispered, "Are… are you a spirit?"
Raelus tilted his head.
"I mean. I could be? But mostly I'm just Raelus. Nice to meet you."
The girl stared at him.
Then turned beet red.
"You're really pretty," she blurted out.
Raelus blinked.
Then grinned.
"Thank you! You're pretty too! I love your braid. Very wind-efficient."
She fainted.
The man caught her quickly and coughed.
"Apologies. We've just… never seen anyone like you."
"Totally fair," Raelus nodded. "I'm kind of a one-of-a-kind situation."
He helped them load the fallen baskets, chatted casually, and even carried the cart for a bit just for fun. By the time they reached the village gate, word had already spread.
"A winged demon prince."
"No, a fallen god."
"A spirit of the old forest!"
"He smiled at me and I felt my arthritis go away."
Raelus just waved.
And so it began.
⸻
A Smile Sharper Than Steel
⸻
The village of Elderglen was a sleepy border town nestled between two quiet hills and a winding river—but on this day, its gate was anything but peaceful.
The queue of travelers waiting to enter stretched down the dirt road: merchants with rattling carts, farmers with baskets of spring fruit, children clutching worn dolls, and a trio of adventurers exchanging dramatic tales for coin.
And just behind them, walking like he belonged to the breeze itself…
Was Raelus.
Hands in his pockets.
Tail swaying casually behind him.
His glowing coat had dimmed to a soft charcoal-gray, hood resting on his shoulders. His horns shimmered faintly in the daylight, and his wings were folded tightly at his back—hidden beneath enchanted layers.
He was already gathering attention.
Whispers spread through the line like wildfire.
"Is that a… noble?"
"No—look at the eyes. One red, one violet."
"His teeth! Did you see those teeth?!"
Raelus didn't notice.
Or if he did… he pretended not to.
He was too busy admiring a flower poking through the cracks in the stone road.
"You're brave, little guy," he said softly. "Keep blooming."
⸻
Then, the air changed.
The road behind them—once busy with talk and laughter—fell suddenly quiet.
And the guards at the front of the gate froze.
"Bandits," one whispered.
"Five of them. Maybe six. Camouflaged."
Screams followed.
Then hoofbeats.
And then—
"Hands in the air!" a gruff voice bellowed.
"Bags open, coin first! You lie, you die!"
A half-dozen men—cloaked in torn leather and mismatched armor—burst from the tree line behind the queue, weapons drawn. One of them rode a ragged black horse. Another carried a wand crackling with unstable lightning. The rest had blades, clubs, and the look of desperation.
The villagers panicked, clutching their belongings, some falling to their knees.
The guards drew weapons but didn't advance—outnumbered, outflanked, and uncertain.
Then—
"Oh no," Raelus muttered, still crouched beside the flower. "You picked the worst day for this."
He stood.
And smiled.
⸻
One of the bandits ran past the guards and swung his sword toward a merchant—
And Raelus was there.
No movement.
Just presence.
A blur of gold and black.
He caught the blade with two fingers.
The bandit blinked.
Raelus looked at him, expression warm.
"Hi there. Sorry, I know this is, like, your whole thing. But I'm gonna need you to stop."
The man tried to pull away.
Raelus didn't move.
"You sure about this?" he asked, voice still light.
The man screamed—and kicked.
Raelus sighed.
And gently flicked him in the forehead.
BOOM.
The man flew backward twenty feet and crashed into a cart, splinters flying.
Raelus winced.
"Oops. That's gonna bruise."
Two more bandits rushed him—one with a spear, the other casting a bolt of fire.
Raelus turned.
Snapped his fingers.
Wind surged.
The spear shattered mid-thrust. The fire curved upward, harmlessly, like a dancer twirling away.
Then he stepped forward once.
And both men dropped their weapons.
And ran.
⸻
The leader on horseback roared.
"Kill him! All of you—he's just a fancy noble!"
"Technically not wrong," Raelus muttered. "But also not right."
The leader pulled a hidden dagger from his sleeve and charged—his horse frothing, blade glowing with a dark curse.
He didn't make it five steps.
Raelus's tail lashed out in a golden blur—
CRACK.
The horse bucked. The dagger exploded into dust. And the bandit captain hit the ground with a groan, completely unconscious.
Raelus exhaled.
Then dusted off his coat.
"Okay. I think that's everyone?"
The guards and travelers stared.
No one moved.
The little girl from earlier pointed at him and whispered, wide-eyed—
"Is he… a hero?"
Raelus blinked.
"…Me?"
"I just didn't want that guy stepping on the flower."
The silence broke into cheers.
Villagers clapped, guards shouted in amazement, and even the adventurers near the front of the line gave respectful nods.
One guard jogged up to him, still stunned.
"Th-thank you, stranger. That was… incredible."
"Aw, it was nothing." Raelus smiled, scratching his cheek. "Really."
"What's your name?"
Raelus paused.
Then smiled again—gently, sincerely.
"Just Raelus."
⸻
End of chapter 13 "The Road Beneath New Skies"