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The fresh air hits me in the face, making me smile.
From up here everything looks so small: the trees, the cottages, the country. And the stars seem to be closer…
I’m on the top of the world, even if I’m just a few metres away from the ground.
When I’m flying, my mind goes blank: I don’t think nothing. The pain that still remains in my heart is gone. Nothing worries me.
When I’m flying, I feel good.
I can never fly in London. There are always too many people, and I don't trust going up on the roof at night. So sometimes I sneak out of the flat, trying not to make noise to wake Penny; Baz doesn't know about my nights out either, as I never sneak when he spends the night with me.
It’s not like I'm hiding it from them, even if it looks like that. It’s just that I enjoy being alone while I fly. I come here once or twice in a week, the country outside the city is lonely and peaceful enough, without neighbours that could see me.
A year ago, I couldn’t see myself doing this. I was so lost in my sadness, thinking that my life has no worth or sense, letting the days pass by. I didn’t even remember how it felt to fly —and, anyways, the few times I flew before were to escape from danger, of course I didn’t want to remember it— I used to think that they were nothing but a depressing reminder of what I used to be: the worst Chosen One ever chosen, a fraud for magic, a walking disaster. I hated them, because I had not magic anymore, but neither could be a normal person. I was in limbo, not knowing who I really was.
It wasn't until we were in America, at that Renaissance fair and fighting vampires, that I was able to walk with my wings freely: no one judged me, because everybody thought they were part of a costume. I didn't understand it at the moment, but for the first time, it was myself (or the new version of myself) (that time, I was also able to kiss Baz without any guilt or discomfort for the first time after long months).
When we came back to England, things changed. After a few months I decided to go back to therapy, and I reconciled with myself. I learned that what happened to me wasn’t my fault: I was just a victim of circumstances. I fixed things with Baz, and slowly felt more free to love him, we finally talked and solved all those years of unspoken words and hidden glances. But I also learned to accept my wings.
Yes, they are a reminder of what it used to be, but now I see it through a different glass: they remind me that used to be a time when I once the most powerful mage to ever walk this world, that I saved magic, and that they helped me save to the people I love and care the most.
So even though it’s been a hard way to walk, and I was about to give up more than once, I’m here now.
Once, in the middle of one of our middle night talks, Baz told me about his favourite spell, "On love's light wings." He told me that thanks to it, he and Penny could arrive in time to help me that day at the White Chapel. I had never heard of it, so when he told me how it works, I felt even more in love with it: it was only useful if the person casting it feels true love for someone.
In some way, the spell has a literal effect on me: the wings sprang up when I needed them most, and to put Penny and Baz out of danger.
When I feel a little tired, I go back to the ground and lay on the grass. Here, outside of civilization, I can see the stars much better. Unconsciously, I go back in time, to my room in Watford, and how Baz did cast stars around us with my magic. The simple memory makes me smile.
I stand up, ready to go home. My wings feel much more relaxed now, and even my tail moves more freely. That's the only thing that doesn't make sense yet, but I've got used to it. Even when it sometimes makes me feel like a dog, showing my emotions. Or when it gets tangled in Baz or Penny's leg or arm, making them laugh.
It's almost dawn when I get back home. As soon as I drop my head on the pillow, I am fast asleep, and I don't wake up until almost noon.
Baz is sitting on the couch, talking to Penny. He gives me a small smile when he sees me, and gets up to kiss me. But before he does, his hand touches my hair, staring strangely at me.
"Snow, why do you have grass in your hair?"