In a small winged dinghy, with whatever supplies she had gathered into her travel pack, Luna made her way out into the open sky.

Of all the environments in the world, the sea of sky was one where Luna felt most comfortable. Sage had told her it meant she was most affiliated with the element of wind. But that was only because the shamanistic elf only had her mother culture to reference. There may have been some truth to it all the same.

Luna’s own explanation was quite different.

As she sat back by the rudder lever, keeping her course westward, she turned her gaze upward beyond the sky’s limit. She was looking for the moon.

The moon was an old friend. Whenever she doubted if she would ever see home again, she was there to remind her. As long as she could see her, she knew that the place beyond was still waiting for her.

The afternoon faded. And at the turn of twilight, she started to emerge. At first, she was barely there, still struggling against the brightness of the receding day. Then she was like a watermark against the scene of sunset. Finally, as the last daylight fell to slumber, she bloomed into full view like a fairytale springing from its pages—a great orb of the palest blue.

In these early hours of the night, the moon was large enough that Luna might extend her hand out and touch her. But when she tried, she felt nothing. Her old friend was such a tease, tempting her reach while knowing full well she was too far below for such a feat.

But she was a sympathetic friend. In silent apology, she continued to guide Luna’s way westward, illuminating the clouds and sky fish around her. Luna found this helpful as she navigated the vast expanse; she wouldn’t want to disturb them without necessity.

=-=-=

Although the tranquil night was comfortable and familiar, day time had its own charm. Out here without a single civil soul, the wildlife roamed freely and just as busily.

Some clouds roved alongside Luna and her dinghy. Sometimes they didn’t pay attention to what was in front of them, clumsily ramming against the hull before tumbling onward. They would lose a bit of rain in the collision, and Luna would have to wring the abrupt deluge from her tunic.

In their defense, the clouds would have probably been more patient if the winds weren’t so prone to gusty bouts. Like waves of the sea on larger continents, the winds swelled high and rough, forcing the dinghy off course for a short time before Luna could check her compass, guess how far she had drifted, and steer it back in the right direction. And then she would have to do it all over again when another wayward wave blew her too far another way.

When the clouds and winds weren’t giving her trouble, it was the sky fish.

Luna was mapping her course as best she as could with a compass and a simple piece of parchment. If Sage were with her, the elf would undoubtedly chart these seas with great accuracy and detail, and without need for much around her to do so. Luna doing this by herself made for a lot of messy guesswork, using whatever references she could (there weren’t many).

That’s when a curious sky fish drifted towards her, hovering over the parchment and prompting Luna to look at it. The fish twitched this way and that with its fins, observing the sparse details of this map in the making.

Luna smiled. “I’m not very good at it, I’m afraid.”

The fish twitched forward and nip at the corner of the page.

Startled, Luna reflexively pulled the map away from it. “No, no. This isn’t food.”

Speaking of food, perhaps it was time for some. She swiftly folded the map into a more manageable size, tucking it under her seat along with the compass. Then, she stood and waddled over to her travel pack, careful not to lose her balance and fall overboard from the small aircraft. She opened the pack and rummaged through her supplies, the fish hovering above her and twitching in anticipation.

After a moment, Luna pulled one of her jars out and sat against the side. This jar was one containing spiced peaches, which she never got to eat thanks to Sarech’s unapologetic gluttony. Now a horizon away from the peach thief, she popped the jar open and plucked one out. She held it to her nose and closed her eyes with a smile. It had a wonderful aroma of sweetness and a hint of mint—or, if not mint, something along those refreshing lines. Luna set the jar aside and prepared to indulge herself.

But before she could sink her teeth into it, the sky fish situated itself between her and the peach. It stared at the fruit with big, glassy eyes.

With a sympathetic little sigh, Luna held it out to the fish. “Did you want to try it?”

The fish twitched again, examining it from one angle. Then another. Satisfied that it may be edible, it finally lunged forward and took a small bite. The fish barely chewed, if at all, before swallowing.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Not that Luna would know quite yet. Nor would she get her chance.

Suddenly, the fish opened its mouth to a much larger degree. Its bare teeth were sharp, and their appearance was so startling that Luna cried out in alarm. Her arms flailed, inadvertently launching the peach into the air. Seizing its chance, the sky fish snatched up the whole remaining fruit and quickly scurried off with its new quarry.

Luna watched as the fish fled with her snack, completely bewildered by what had just transpired. Did that really just happen? She didn’t know which reaction she should turn to—frustration or utter amusement.

Before she could decide, she heard something clink at her feet. Turning her attention downward, she saw that her jar of leftover peaches had spilled into the dinghy—and that more sky fish had already started to help themselves to the unwitting bait.

“No!”

Luna began to chase the fish with her hands, unable to move very much with her feet within the confined hull of the dinghy. But the fish proved far more agile than her hands, darting away just before she could catch them. Some simply moved a few feet from her, momentarily wondering if they were safe at such a close distance. They quickly realized they were wrong, just barely evading Luna’s grasp and darting to the safety of the air further away.

There was one more fish that was stubborn, or stupid, depending on how one looked at it. With its own fruit secured between its jaws, it darted from the front of the boat, to the back, then back to the front as Luna attempted to restrain it.

The dinghy rocked violently as the chase disturbed its course. Realizing that she was starting to lose her balance, Luna paused her pursuit. She steadied her legs, bending her knees to absorb the motion until the little boat bobbed calmly again.

Then, she turned her attention to the fish. It was hovering just over the side of the hull, staring at Luna with the last bit of prize left from the spilled jar lodged in its jaws. Luna slowly made her way over to it… Slowly… Slowly…

In a last-ditch effort, she launched herself fully towards the fish—which easily dodged her before finally darting away.

Luna’s foot caught on the hull in her reckless maneuver. Arms flailing, she twisted herself as she tumbled over the side. Somehow, her fingers miraculously found its grip on the dinghy, sparing her a long plunge into the abyss.

She dangled over the side of the dinghy, looking at the swirl of clouds below. In all honesty, Luna wasn’t particularly afraid of falling away; it was just the momentary shock that caught her when she flipped overboard. Gathering her wits once more, she hoisted herself back into the dinghy and lay flat on her back, the rear collar of her tunic beginning to marinate somewhat in the spilled, spiced peach syrup.

Luna decided she was never buying spiced peaches ever again.

=-=-=

As Luna had been warned by the dockmaster during her preparation, there were only a handful of isles floating about this part of the sea of sky. Most of them could barely be called proper isles, more than uninhabitable boulders.

Fortunately, she did find one that was flat enough to walk on, and large enough to stretch her legs. There was even a tree that jutted out over the isle’s edge, making it a perfect place to anchor down her dinghy.

It had been a few days now since she set out from the Farthest Edge. Her supplies were still ample, but tangibly less so than when she started. The sky fish that got into her travel pack while she wasn’t paying attention had been a small bout of trouble for her. That being said…

Luna looked further west. An uneasy feeling began to stir within her.

She looked around self-consciously, as if expecting Sarech to be watching her from somewhere nearby. It was a habit; he was the one person she couldn’t show this to. Satisfied that she was truly alone in the moment, she closed her eyes and clasped her hands together in concentration.

Wings.

In her silent imploration, magic seeped out of her from between her shoulder blades like fireflies emerging from their slumber. The magic gathered behind her, growing larger with each sparkling particle that melted into the union. It swelled into critical mass, and with the briefest, blinding flash of light, wings bloomed from Luna’s back. They looked as if taken from a children’s bubble maker, then flattened and elongated into something useful.

Luna looked over her shoulder, checking their functionality with a few experimental flaps. The translucent, iridescent wings fluidly moved in time with her will. These were the sure mark of an angel; she had to be careful whom she showed them to.

As the world aged, overall prowess for magic waned. But even in this late age, angels maintained their command over magic. Fear and jealousy made pariahs of them. When a scholar found a way to shatter an angel’s soul and weaken their magic power, bounties on angels became common. Many had fled to the safety of the place beyond the moon, lest their souls be sundered and their entry barred.

Angels no longer had a place in this world.

With an incomplete soul, Luna couldn’t use her wings for very long without exhausting herself, but she could use them sporadically. She propelled herself upward, and with two pumps of her wings, she was floating above the tree that anchored her dinghy. Once again turning her gaze westward, her face grew solemn.

When she looked west from the ground, part of her had hoped it was some kind of illusion. Or perhaps there would be some way under it if she could find a high enough vantage point to spy on it. Unfortunately, neither was true, nor were any of the fleeting thoughts of convenience she had.

There, not so far in the distance, was a wall of storm clouds. The foreboding shades of purple and black swirled from the abyssal level to beyond the sky’s limit. Even from here, Luna could see cracks of lightning, hear the rumbling echoes of thunder that followed.

Somewhere on the other side of that unwelcoming sight lay the Isles Beyond. And there, a shard of her missing soul.