To Fly on Metal Wings
Felrun’s Need 28 Baldral 900
Riley dreamed he was on an unfamiliar island atop a cliff overlooking a fortress-city, the wind calling his name in an unfamiliar voice. Crashed airships of foreign design littered the green-tinged sky. Equally strange wrecks littered the field. Battle raged. As he wandered the halls he saw the ghostly figures of Elves dash about the corners of his eyes. They spoke of fierce fighting at the gates. When Riley arrived, he saw scores of Elves battling foes in complex tecnomantik armor, covered head to heel. For every hundred Elves, a Greater Elf stood, taller and more perfect than their brothers. Alongside every Great Elf fought a Being of Fire; and when one was slain, the other ceased to be. At the gate a dozen of these beings stood shoulder to shoulder over a kneeling being, wings folded to his back. "Riley," he called out, "Riley, I need you." Riley moved toward him, running but covering no ground. The faster he ran, the quicker the battle faded from view, until he awoke in a sweat...