Work Text:
He stands, shakily, the fight raging on around him, but he’s got no time to be dead. Riz turns to take in the battlefield, yet before he can register what’s happening, Kalina’s foot connects with his stomach and as he blacks out he goes flying off the staircase into the dark void beyond.
He’s got wings now, fine angel wings like his father’s that let him soar, and he can feel the rush of air as he flies through the sky. It's cold, the wind whipping through his hair and wings, but he’s free. Doesn’t he want freedom? It’s so inviting.
It’s so wrong.
Suddenly, he’s no longer free. His wings bind him, wrap tightly around him, and he feels secure now, even if he’s no longer free. Freedom was great, but he’s not ready for that freedom yet. He can feel the tug bringing him back to the material world and he finds he has no choice but to accompany it. But there, back to the land of the living, it’s warm and he feels life envelop him in an embrace.
Riz is healed and conscious again. He won’t remember his fall – his flight – but he’ll remember the warmth.