by Robert Cely
he did something unexpected. Instead of charging into Oberlain as others had done, just as he dove near he dipped up, changing his dive to a climb. With a burst Avalain opened his wings to their full span and glory, catching all the power of the wind. The watching Lethe gasped at the sudden beauty of Avalain, his wings outstretched and the sun seeming to glow off of his skin. Even Oberlain’s eyes widened with awe, and he too felt that deep adoration for his Creator.
Avalain grabbed his brother by the wrists of his outstretched arms. With perfectly timed motion, as his momentum carried him up, he beat his wings in long, powerful strokes.
Oberlain struggled mightily but felt his feet lift off the ground. He heard the gasps from below as he was lifted higher and higher. He looked up at his brother, his golden face haloed by the sun, and saw pity and love looking back.
“You see brother,” Avalain said even as he groaned under the strain. “We were made for the air.”
Avalain let go and Oberlain fell towards the ground. Full of the shock and grief of his loss, Oberlain thought to let himself fall, and allow the rock and the earth to end his misery. But his blood was true even if his mind was not, and as he fell, by instinct he opened his wings and floated to the ground, in that very motion admitting to Avalain’s victory.
“You see my fellow Lethe,” Avalain announced as he soared above them. “We were made for this. See how it thrills you to watch me, feel the lightness in your bones, the song that struggles to break free. We were made to dance with the wind and kiss the stars. We were made to be blessed above all creation, to look into the face of God, to guard the skies and to play among the clouds. We were made full of inspiration, for song and art, to draw men’s dreams to heaven. We were not made to be bound to earth. We were made free. We were made glorious. We were made to fly.”
Most of the Lethe cried out and joined Avalain in the sky. Those who had adopted Oberlain’s ways remembered the glory they were made for, and laughing, took to the skies again, reveling in the light kiss of the air.
Others still gathered around Oberlain, too filled with earth food and sleep to remember their glory. They looked to their leader, torn as to what they should do.
Oberlain didn’t see anything of what went on around him. He didn’t hear the laughter and the song, he didn’t see the happy flying, or even sense those still loyal to him, looking to him for direction. All Oberlain could see was the red anger in his eyes. All he could feel was the humiliation and spite that pounded in every beat of his heart. All he could hear was the pity in Avalain’s voice, mocking poor Oberlain.
Always Avalain. Avalain the beautiful, the awesome flier, the heavenly voice, the great, the crown of the Lethe. Avalain. Always Avalain.
Never again, Oberlain told himself in dark whisper.
Never would he be second to Avalain again. Never again would they adore beautiful Avalain and pity luckless Oberlain. Never again.
“Damn him and damn them all,” Oberlain muttered.
Without thinking Oberlain reached out his hands. Dimly he felt the cold power of rock in his hands, and the feel of the rock gave him a sense of power. He was not helpless to Avalain. He was the one with real power.
Avalain dipped by, encouraging his fellow Lethe to fly, to take to the wind again as was their destiny. Oberlain hurled the rock with all his might, an action fueled by rage alone.
With a crack the rock struck Avalain on the forehead and the beautiful Lethe went limp and hurtled to the ground. He fell to the earth with a crash, and the sound of his fall trembled the foundations of the world. Men near and far felt the shake and looked about in alarm for its source. All creatures of wing took flight and called out in alarm. The thunders of the sky roared and cried out in grief. Clouds gathered around the Lethe and the fallen Avalain, weeping in rain at what they had witnessed.
Blood trickled from Avalain’s head.
The Lethe fell silent, all their rediscovered brightness dark again, as dark as the clouds that rumbled overhead. They gathered around Avalain’s lifeless figure, frightened and unsure what to do.
“Do you see now the power of the earth?” Oberlain grimly spoke up, the darkness now fully closed over his heart, thickened by murder. “The ground is where true power lies, and we will be a people of rock and earth.”
“What of Avalain’s Sunset Flight?” one of the elders spoke up. “You have robbed your brother of his Sunset Flight.”
“He chose to defy true power and this is his fate,” Oberlain uttered without feeling. “And so will be the fate of any who oppose us.”
“But what will we do with him?” they asked.
“Bury him,” Oberlain intoned to the gasps of all. “And if any defy me you will suffer the power of rock as well.”
Frightened and full of tears the Lethe committed the most horrible act they could imagine - laying one of their own in a hole in the ground. Oberlain’s followers imitated their leader and hefted rocks to coerce the reluctant. So Avalain was buried and Oberlain ordered the building of a great city of rock. And to show he was merciful and loving still, he named the city Avalain, in memory of his fallen brother. Hereafter, he declared, the Lethe would be strong ground-dwellers, practical and productive, no longer frolicking uselessly in the air.
So it was that the glorious and beautiful Lethe became the most pragmatic and hard-nosed of all the earth dwellers. Intent on putting away their ancient heritage they despised all that was not practical, especially shunning all play, art and song. They built the great city of rock they are known for today and set about fully to forget the glory bestowed upon them by the Creator.
Not all of the Lethe allowed themselves to be intimidated. The night after Avalain was buried the elders and loyal Lethe built the great obelisk that hides in their city today. Because Oberlain loved rock so much they would tell their story in rock. It was the first and last work of sculpture the Lethe ever created, and they poured into it every ounce of love and skill they possessed, carving in rock the mournful story of their fall.
The obelisk completed they dug up the body of Avalain and flew off together on their Sunset Flight, for never had a heaviness descended upon a Lethe as the one that now weighed on their hearts. They would rather be dead than live upon the ground.
When Oberlain awoke the next morning he did not tear the obelisk down. Part of him still loved his brother and longed to honor him, and he even planted a garden around the memorial, including one Andor tree.
From time to time a great sadness would overcome one of the Lethe. Looking out toward the setting sun he would burst forth into flight and song and follow the sunset towards its end, never to be seen again. From time to time a jubilant child would discover his wings and take to joyous flight, reveling in his unbelievable power.
But as the years wore on this happened less and less. Eventually all the Lethe who died were buried in the ground, and children were kept too busy and disciplined to ever think about flying.
One strange thing remains about the Lethe. Even as they have become worldly, esteemed and wealthy and even spread out, mingling with the other ground-dwellers; the Lethe still have their wings. Practicality has so overtaken them that they no longer know that they even have them. And if they were to realize their wings doubtless they would be too frightened to fly. But they still possess the power of flight and they still walk among us.
The whole world changed with the fall of the Lethe. All the other winged creatures were so angry at the vultures for their deceit, finally taken too far, that their portion of the hunt was taken from them and given to the owls. To this day vultures are forced to eat carrion and pick off the corpses of what other animals have left behind.
Most importantly, the sky was no longer guarded. With their flight and song the Lethe had kept at bay all manner of wicked spirits that fall from heaven. Now, unguarded and vulnerable, evil fell upon the world, and people forgot what was truly good and committed themselves fully to selfis
h ambition. Today this evil has so saturated life that no man alive remembers what true good even looks like.
But the heart remembers what is forgotten by the mind. And still today the lowland farmers look up into the hot sun and wish for some respite to kiss them from the skies. Still, legends of ancient and powerful beings fill our stories, of winged angels that fly and sing with the voice of beauty.
And still among us there walk men who have been gifted with the power to soar among the winds, though their eyes cannot see nor their hearts believe. But there are times, when the sky is a deep, rich blue, or the stars blaze brightly overhead, when they remember, when they know, that deep down they were not made to be creatures bound to the earth.
Perhaps you too have experienced a similar feeling. Perhaps you have felt that you were meant for something more than the life of repetitive toil and domestic drudgery, of the omnipresent buzz of digital noise and the facile reasoning of blind materialists, of highways and steel towers and investment portfolios, of the stale smell of offices and mindless drone of popular entertainment, of pedantic politicians and the mediocrity of corporate mass production, of the prisons and chains we have forged for ourselves by a rapacious greed for more and more worthless things. Perhaps you too have felt that lightness in your bones and