Show the proof of your divinity for all to see!
Genevieve awoke with a start, the voice in her dream still reverberating through her sleep addled brain. It had been a tumultuous week. To think that only five days ago she had been a mere human, a lowly raider, and now, here she was, a demigod. One of the chosen.
The new Daeva shook her head, her orange curls bouncing against the deep blue skin of her shoulders. She looked around at the cloud on which she had been resting. It was a small, wispy creation of hers. She decided she could get used to this whole Daeva thing. Clouds made good beds.
Glancing at the bustling city around her, Genevieve once again marveled at the wonder that was Pandaemonium, the capital city of her beloved Asmodian people. Forgotten memories tugged at the periphery of her consciousness, threatening to reveal a past that she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She had been shown glimpses of both her past and her future, and she wasn't quite sure she wanted to know all the answers. For now, she was just happy growing accustomed to new-found immortality. Wasn't that enough?
The beautiful Daeva stood up, brushing off her modest cloth robes and straightening the orb she wore on her wrist. It flashed back at her as if excited to be awake again too. She felt a quick thrill run through her as she thought of her recent adventures, of the people she'd helped, of the villains she'd slain. Daevahood certainly had its perks, she decided.
Fully awake now, she ran down to edge of the city intent on seeking a teleport out to Altgard. She still had unfinished business there, and she was anxious to take to the skies. Oh, how she loved to fly. She knew she had no hope of explaining the feeling of rushing wind through soft feather to her few human friends; there really was nothing to compare it to.
The teleport was quick if a bit pricey, as such things go. One of the realities of her new world was that kinah was going to be hard to come by for a while. Genevieve had never given much thought to finances before, at least from what she could remember, but when running with gods, a girl had a certain reputation to keep. She didn't want to always be known as the poor raider from humble beginnings.
A light snow fell on the fortress at Altgard. She looked with relish at the mountains that surrounded the keep. To a human, they might have seemed an insurmountable challenge, a wonderful vista to be viewed from afar and never conquered. Genevieve spread her wings. The soft, dark feathers moved ever so slightly in the weak breeze. She looked first left, then right, assuring herself that she wouldn't knock into anyone. She was still growing accustomed to her wingspan.
Ha! Wingspan, she thought. With one powerful stroke, her wings pushed downward, thrusting her weightlessly up into the air. Though this wasn't her first flight, she still got a thrill from taking off and, even now, the adrenaline raced through her veins. With excitement, she beat her wings repeatedly against the air, rising higher and higher in the sky. Once she had risen to eye level with the tips of the mountains, she stretched her wings out to her side.
Tilting forward, she began to pick up speed as the wind buffeted her face and flowed pleasantly over her outstretched wings. She could almost feel the vibration of each individual feather as the air passed through, keeping her aloft in the snowy sky. The ground rocketed beneath her as she glided aimlessly around the stronghold. It felt so good to fly.
Yes, Daevehood certainly had its perks.
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