the Rift

He wasn’t sure what changed between the portal opening and now. All he did know, however, was that he woke to a hardened crust of goo covering every inch of his body. A sharp curse escaped his lips in his native Korifian tongue before he glanced around, checking the dark surroundings for his daughter, hoping she was still nearby and hoping she wasn’t covered in this wretched goop that prevented him from flying.

Vigorously, he tried to shake the goo from his wings, but they only seemed to harden more. A grumble quickly followed by a sigh left his dark lips before he tightened his wings against his sides, tucking his trident gently into the crook of his wing and making sure he still had the few trinkets he had kept from Helovia. While they were small, he still had some history with them. The little band that sat – now covered in goop – on his wing joint was a gift from the Giving Tree, a simple little event that was actually fairly enjoyable for the man who found it hard to enjoy anything.

Then, there was the Dragon’s Throat key he kept dangling around his neck. It was useless now, a simple trinket from times long gone, but he still lived there for a period of time. He even worked hard enough to be considered a lead in his rank, something that was difficult to do back home. It was something he was proud of. And finally, he tucked his dagger into his other wing joint, the one gifted to him from Ampere that would allow him to see events occurring in another place. And when he was finally put back together, despite the gross feeling that covered every inch of his body, he lifted his pale head in search of his daughter. “Rinne? Are you still sleeping?” He cooed into the darkness, cursing himself for straying from her.