Adonis dangled off the edge of the world, his eyes wide and straining.

All it would take was a quick cut from his knife, and he would fall and fall. He closed his eyes and imagined the rush of air, the blurring vision, and then …

And then what? Were there other worlds below? Other people? Different kinds of people?

He drew his knife, breathing hard, wide-eyed.

It wasn’t the fall he feared. Adonis was a firi, and the firi could fall great distances. But the lands below could be without food, plagued by war, or the air could be toxic. If he fell without a way back up, he would die.

Adonis sighed and turned his attention to the wind trap dangling gently in the breeze. He opened the trap’s reservoir and emptied its contents into the sack he’d brought with him.

He was a trapper, responsible for the daily collecting of the palm-sized seed pods that kept his colony fed. No one knew where the pods came from, but the winds off the edge were rich with them.

Adonis climbed back up to the ground and upended the sack into his cart.

It was the last trap on his route, and his wagon was nearly overflowing. He turned back toward the colony, Parallax. It was a tidy place of wooden buildings and well-worn roads.

“Please, trapper, I’m hungry.” A firi woman stopped him just inside the colony’s wall.

Adonis kept walking, trying not to look at the woman.

“The rations are barely enough for my children. If you could-”

“Is there a problem?” A firi guard from the wall garrison hurried over to them.

“No, no problem.” Adonis hurried to step in front of the beggar.

The guard drew a sword cane.

“Please, she’s just hungry.” Adonis held his hands up imploringly. The beggar started to back away.

“Perhaps you think your rations insufficient?” The guard snarled.

“No, er, no, sir.” The beggar hobbled backward and tripped on a root.

Adonis started to help her but noticed the guard snap to glare at him. He hesitated for a moment, knowing he should help.

He didn’t. What could he do? Fight? Not likely. Reason? The guard was only doing his job.

As he walked away, he tried not to hear the thwack of the cane and the beggar’s scream.



Adonis’s destination was the requisition depot in the middle of the colony. It was five stories tall, the center of everything. He looked left and right, impatient.

After a must-have-been-intentional delay, Rafa landed with a soft thud beside his cart, having jumped from one of the balconies high above.

“You are late, trapper,” Rafa grumbled. “Collection ended ten minutes ago.”

Adonis tried to smile. “Am I? Apologies. Good winds today. I think I’ll have a bit extra.”

Beside Adonis, Rafa looked meticulously clean, his clothing smooth and his hair orderly. He was the captain of the depot, a vital job, seeing that everyone got the resources they needed to survive and contributed a fair amount of labor. Parallax was a colony on the edge of failure, and everyone had to work hard and sacrifice to keep everyone alive.

Rafa nudged the empty bin. Adonis nodded and moved the pods into the bin, an armload at a time.

As Adonis filled it, a counterweight rose, reaching for a line that indicated his daily quota. It took all but four pods to bring the weight to the prescribed height. Adonis scowled, having expected more, but shook his head back to a smile. A surplus was a surplus.

Rafa made a few marks on a clipboard. “Very well, you may take the extra if you wish.”

“If I wish?” Adonis frowned. “What do you mean?”

“If you would have others go hungry, you may take the excess.”

Adonis felt a lurch in his stomach. “I don’t want the excess food. I want to trade it.”

“As you say.” Rafa pursed his lips, not looking.

Adonis looked at the emptied wagon. He shook his head. “I’m keeping them, Rafa. It's important, really.”

“It is your right.”

Adonis glared at Rafa and dumped the remaining seeds into the bin. He shook a bit with anger while he did so.

He knew Rafa was bullying him. Rafa would likely keep it for himself, but Adonis couldn’t handle the suggestion of selfishness, true or not.

“Your generosity is appreciated,” Rafa said in the same monotone. “I will be sure to mention it to the council.”

“I’m sure,” Adonis sighed. Rafa didn’t look up as Adonis hurried away. Next time Adonis resolved to stash the excess away from the depot so Rafa wouldn’t be any the wiser if he kept it.

Parallax unrolled around him like a lover stretching in the moonlight. It was the dark season, which most of the firi found depressing. But Adonis thought it was peaceful.

A ghostly silhouette stood in the doorway of his home as he rounded the last corner. Adonis hurriedly parked his cart and pulled his wife into a slow embrace. She smelled of flowers and sap wine.

“No materials today?” Mayla asked. She had dark hair that always seemed a perfect frame for her face, large eyes, and a small nose. She sparkled in the darkness. Adonis couldn't look away from her.

“No … I had a surplus, but … no.”

Adonis walked into his workshop.

The room took up nearly half of the ground level. Charcoal sketches and equations covered the walls, some crossed out, some circled. The flying machine was in the center of the room, among scraps of wood and sawdust.

The platform was an oblong oval made of crossing beams, the pattern chosen over many experiments for maximum strength at minimum weight. The wings were wooden frames to be covered in cloth. His previous build had used solid wood, but it had been too heavy. A cloth-covered frame would provide nearly the same lift with much less weight.

Unfortunately, cloth was nearly impossible to acquire. Were it enough, Adonis would have gladly used the two shirts he owned, but he would need several times that amount.

He ran his fingers along the smooth curve of the wing frame.

“Soon,” Mayla said, leaning against the doorframe. Adonis hadn’t heard her approach.

“Soon.” Adonis smiled. “Just need some cloth to cover the wings and a bit of resin to hold it.” Adonis shook his head. He was so close. This design would work. He could just feel it.

“Perhaps you should petition the council again.”

“They will tell me to go back to work and stop daydreaming.”

“Even Cora?”

Adonis rolled his eyes. “Your sister is my most … vocal … opponent. How you two share a mother …”



Adonis lay his hands on the platform. He pictured the wings flapping as he pulled the levers. The wind caught his hair and dried the moisture from his eyes and he soared.

How they would stare at him, this creature from above! He would establish new trade routes, and Parallax would prosper. In a year, there would be a fleet of his flying machines, and he would be their celebrated captain, the savior of Parallax.

He shook his head to clear the visions and closed the door to his workshop. He prepared himself a dinner of seed pudding and ate.

*     *     *
“If you’d just listen,” Adonis said. Cora was taller than Adonis and longer limbed. Adonis had to take three steps to the councilor’s two.

“I really don’t have time for this.” Cora shook her head with rolling eyes. Two soldiers flanked her with polished quarterstaffs and wooden scale armor. Not that Cora needed bodyguards; she was among the most skilled in the colony with the cane, one of which dangled from her belt.

“You don’t have time to ignore me!” Adonis hobbled beside her, thrusting a schematic toward his wife’s sister.

“Why is it that every time I tour the district, I find you here when you should be emptying traps to keep our people fed.”

“I more than meet my quota.”

“And one would think such skill could be put to better use than idling about, distracting councilors with doodles.”

“Just give me a chance,” Adonis pleaded. “All I need is two bolts of cloth and four - five vials of resin. It will change-”

“Oh, is that all?” Cora rolled her eyes. “Get back to work, Adonis. People are hungry.”

“Just-“

“Shall we remove him, councilor?” One of the bodyguards inquired in a thickset drawl.

“No, it’s fine,” Cora sighed and turned to face Adonis. “Adonis, please.”

Adonis watched her turn and walk away.

He had known it wouldn’t work but couldn’t help but try again. Cora should have been his ally. She had been elected to the council two seasons earlier, and Adonis had rejoiced at first. But nothing had changed. Cora was just like the other councilors.

Adonis shook his head. He was behind schedule. He hurried back to his home and grabbed his wagon for his rounds.

“Ada …” Mayla said as Adonis was about to head off.

Adonis stopped and looked back at her, a spike of dread in his belly.

Mayla continued, “Have you considered ….” She paused. “... not trying so hard? Your work brings you nothing but grief. Perhaps it is time to move on.”

Adonis started the wagon rolling, shaking his head. She had made the argument before, all too often. He would not hear it today. Not when he was so close.

Mayla continued, “Things are not so bad. You don’t always need to improve them.”

Her words daggered into him, probably because somewhere deep down, Adonis knew she was right. But he couldn’t help who he was. He had to keep going. He would find a way. And how Mayla would smile when she saw him descend from the sky in his machine! How she would weep and embrace him! It was for her that he labored, even if she didn’t understand that.

Adonis clipped his rope and lowered and dumped and climbed and then did it again. And again. And then the day was over, and he pushed his wagon to the depot, ignoring Rafa’s sniveling.

As he walked home, he considered Mayla’s words. It took effort to make one’s life better, but if you spent all your energy on the task, you’d have none left over for enjoying anything, so what was the point of making it better?

He had plenty to eat. He had a good job. That should be enough.

Adonis stared at his door and balled his fists. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

How could anyone live like that? How could they wake and work and sleep and never want? How could they look off the edge and not wonder what lay below? It tugged at him like clothes a few sizes too small. No matter how much he fidgeted, he did not fit into such a life.

If only the blasted council would allocate him some cloth. They had plenty of it in the depot; at least Adonis assumed they did. Adonis turned and walked out into the night, leaving his wagon behind.

The council was afraid. They had forbidden his experiments, calling them malcontented and seditionist. Even Cora! Adonis had resolved to build it anyway. And after over a year of tests and failures, he was so close. He just needed some blasted cloth, and a bit of resin, and his machine would be complete.

The sky above him was as vast as black is black. Adonis’s footsteps echoed in the darkness. Parallax slept, yearning for light. The last few days of the dark season were always the hardest, when it felt like there would never be light again.

Before him was the depot. He hadn’t meant to walk here, but here he was. He shuddered with a sudden realization.

Inside this very building was the cloth he needed.

Adonis had never broken any laws, never taken anything beyond his share. But the world would never change unless he changed it. There wasn’t time to wait and do things the right way.

Adonis fished a long pin used in the hinge of the wind traps from his pocket. The latch released and the door slid open. Adonis stared at it, not quite believing what he had done. If the guards caught him - but he couldn't think about that now. It was worth the risk. It was the only way.

The interior smelled of sap and something less palatable as well. It smelled like, was that rot? A shuttered lamp glowed on the wall. He lifted it and opened the shutter. The depot’s counter ran along one side of the room. Behind it was a door to the storehouse. Adonis vaulted the counter.

He’d only been beyond that door once, as a child touring the colony before taking up his assigned profession. Then, the storeroom seemed vast and mysterious. Now it just looked cluttered and dirty. Rows of shelves extended into the darkness. The smell of rot was stronger.

He scanned the shelves as he passed them. His footsteps clattered and boomed. He tried to move silently, but his breath echoed, and his heart thumped. Was he really doing this?

He scanned the shelves. Most of them held raw wood mined from the ground. He also passed wooden tools, candles, string, and finally, he found bolts of cloth. Adonis stared at it, Rafa’s admonitions haunting him, coming true. He didn’t care about anyone else. He was a common thief.

But that wasn’t true. He was doing this for others. For Mayla. He unwound exactly how much he needed and draped it around his shoulders like a shroud.

Sap resin proved harder to find. Adonis moved from shelf to shelf, aisle to aisle. He was starting to panic. Maybe there wasn’t any sap resin. Maybe the distillers hadn’t delivered recently. Maybe-

Was that a sound?

Adonis snapped his eyes and stared for several unbelieving heartbeats.

There it was again!

Adonis started to back away. They were footsteps. They were getting louder.

He threw the cloth on the ground but immediately snatched it back up. He slammed the shutter of his lamp and cursed himself a fool for the deafening clack the shutter made.

He felt along the shelf in the darkness, away from the footsteps. He found the wall and made his way along it with probing hands.

He could almost make out words now, two voices, both male, one higher than the other. But there was no time to consider the words; he had to hide. They would draw canes and rain blows upon him. They would hate him. They would exile him. Who would he be without Parallax?

His fingers found a door and followed it down to a doorknob. He fumbled for the hinge pin, trying to focus, to slow the press of panic. Just pick a lock.

“…ever notices?” one of the voices said.

A drop of sweat fell from Adonis's brow and landed on his fingers. Where was the blasted catch? He bit his lip and tasted the coppery tang of blood. Why was it not working? He tried the knob. The unlocked door slid open.

Adonis ducked into the room and closed the door as fast as he dared. He dimly wondered where he was, but what did it matter? The door was still open just a crack. He couldn’t risk the click of the latch.

“You must learn to be thorough. That is how the game is played, with contingencies, backup plans.” The lower voice sounded familiar, but Adonis couldn’t place it.

The footsteps grew ever closer. They passed the door, five feet away from Adonis's thundering heart. One of the men pulled the door closed as they passed it.

“You still have much to learn,” the lower voice said, muffled.

“Oh, enlighten me, great one,” the higher voice said. Adonis placed it then. It was Rafa.

A loud crack broke the quiet. The lower voice followed it quickly, “Do not presume that you are my equal. You are not. Neither in station nor capability. You are here because you are useful. If you prove otherwise, you will no longer be here. Am I clear?”

Rafa spoke again, quieter. “Of course, forgive my presumption, councilor.”

“Well?” The deeper voice inquired. Councilor? “Where is it?”

“Aisle 6, halfway down. Next to the resin.”

More footsteps and the creaking of a wooden crate.

“Disgusting,” the deeper voice said.

“Why do we keep it, councilor?” Rafa asked. “People are hungry.”

A pause, and Adonis imagined the deeper glaring threateningly, Rafa bowing his head, chastised again.

“Could you ...” The deeper voice sounded irritated.

“Of course,” Rafa said. A crate thudded to the ground. No, not the ground, some kind of wheels creaked under the sudden strain. A few more thuds. They were loading a cart.

Adonis tried to breathe quietly, willing them to leave.

And they did. The footsteps and the squeaking wheels trailed away, returning the direction they had come. Adonis waited until they had fallen silent and counted to one hundred. He cracked the door and peered out into the darkness. His eyes poured over the shapeless black.

Councilor? Rafa had called the other man ‘councilor.’ But why would a councilor be sneaking about the requisition depot in the middle of the night? They could procure whatever they wanted with a word. Whatever the reason, Adonis said a quick prayer of thanks. He was safe, and the pair had told him where the resin was stored. A stroke of luck then, in the end.

Adonis hurried to the sixth aisle from the end and traced his fingers over the boxes until he found the crate of wooden vials. He took them from several crates, making them all look roughly as full as they had been. It wouldn’t stand up to close inspection, but he had no other choice.

He had his supplies. He could complete his machine.

*     *     *
Adonis dreamed of flying. He soared and twirled and swooped. He was the air. He was the sun-streaked clouds. He was free.

His eyes opened. He was out of bed in a heartbeat. The flying machine was completed and awaiting its first flight. Embers of light crested the horizon. The dark would lift in mere days, just in time for him to take advantage. He pulled on his coat and called to Mayla that he was heading out early.

Adonis opened his door and beheld the beautiful machine. The final assembly had been done in front of his house, as the wings would not have fit through any doorway once they were glued in place. He had been up late gluing and clamping, and then it was off to a reckless sleep while the resin set. Adonis gripped the wooden handle and pulled. The wing flapped. Adonis giggled with delight. It would work! He was going to fly!

He considered going back and waking Mayla. He shook his head and kept going. Better to test it first. No reason to get her hopes up again.

The initial takeoff required a burst of speed. Adonis set his shoulder to the wing beam and pushed. The test would take him all morning. He would not have time to attend to his traps. But when the council learned of his success, what would they care about a trapper's quota?

He was soon outside Parallax, his thoughts buzzing with possibility. He was going to fly! He thought of Mayla—how she would smile when he told her the story of this day! How the light would sparkle in her eyes! He was going to fly!

He had identified a downslope ten minutes’ walk out of town that would create the required momentum. He took a breath of the glorious morning air as he pushed. Most of Parallax still slept, but a few beggars watched him suspiciously. Adonis smiled at them, and they looked away.

Soon he was out of town, sweating but unable to stop smiling.

“Trapper Adonis.” A nasal voice broke the stillness. Adonis turned and saw a group of firi following him. Rafa led them.

“Trapper, stop where you are.”

Adonis’s heart raced. Rafa must have noticed the missing supplies, but so quickly? He looked forward. The ground started to slope downward just a few hundred paces away.

“I’m just fine, thank you. It is my day off, and I’m ... I’m going to ...” What? What was he going to do? They could see the machine. He needed to explain it.

“You are under arrest,” Rafa said. “Stop where you are!”

“No, that’s a mistake. I just need to ….” Adonis turned and started pushing the machine again. He was so close. The hill was just ahead. Another thirty seconds and the machine would begin to roll on its own.

“Stand down!” Rafa screamed.

Adonis pushed, his muscles straining with sudden haste. Steps clattered toward him.

Adonis gasped for breath and tried to ignore the burning in his legs. He was nearly there. Just twenty more steps. He willed his legs to keep going, keep moving, keep pushing. Ten steps!

A hand fell on his shoulder. Adonis spun and nearly fell. The machine lurched under him, coming to a stop.

Rafa leered at him. Adonis shoved Rafa away and started to push again. Didn’t they see what he had built? Why couldn’t they understand? He was at the precipice. He was going to fly!

Several hands grabbed him from behind.

“But I-” Adonis bellowed. He wriggled free and lunged the last step to the downslope.

The machine started to roll downhill.

“Don’t you dare!” Rafa yelled.

Adonis could have jumped. He could have landed on the platform and his machine would roll down the hill, away from Rafa, away from Parallax and all the others that didn’t understand him.

But Adonis didn’t jump. He hesitated. He considered.

He turned to Rafa, a plea forming in his throat.

“Oh, Adonis. Did you really think we would overlook your little experiment?” Rafa said. “Did you really think the council would let you ignore their instructions? You are a talented trapper. Why couldn’t that be enough for you?”

But before Adonis could say anything, two soldiers grabbed him and gagged him with a foul-tasting cloth. Three soldiers lunged after the machine and managed to stop its inertia ten steps down the hill.

“Why couldn’t you be content?” Rafa shook his head.

“What about this, Captain?” one of them called to their commander.

“Burn it.”

Adonis screamed through the gag. He started to choke, gasp, and wheeze.

A soldier set a torch under the wing and it ignited quickly. The soldiers released it and it started to roll. His flying machine gained speed and then lifted off the ground. It soared upwards as the fire consumed it. As it reached thirty feet off the ground, it fell apart, scattering ash and burning cloth and sticks like debris from a storm.

Adonis stared, unbelieving. It wasn’t fair. He turned to attack the soldiers. He would tear Rafa apart.

“Careful Captain, I think he’s angry.” A soldier smirked.

Rafa glared at Adonis and shook his head. He nodded to a soldier, and the woman brought down her cane on Adonis’s head. Everything went black.

*     *     *
“You know, trapper, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you. I thought you a boastful fool with too many ideas, but I never dreamed you’d take it so far,” Councilor Sola said. He was long-faced and bright-eyed and always sounded like there was something stuck in his throat.

He and the other six councilors sat in an arc around Adonis. The pounding in his head had subsided, but the sinking in his stomach had only worsened. He looked again over the councilors. Cora, his wife’s sister, met his eyes for a moment before looking away. Sola’s eyes flicked to Councilor Tallion in the center of the arc. Though there was no official leader of the council, everyone knew that Tallion was in charge.

Behind him a few hundred firi crowded into the council chamber, clamoring to hear if the rumors were true, what would become of the firi who defied the council.

“A flying machine,” Sola cackled. “I suppose you thought yourself heroic, that we would reward your insubordination?”

A few firi in the crowd jeered. Sola continued, “But what you don’t understand is that we don’t want to fly. In times like these, we need order. We need obedience. Anything else is dangerous.”

“Let's be done with this. Make your recommendation.” a councilor from the right said.

“By all means,” Sola said. “For the theft of cloth and resin, council recommendation is twenty lashes and all time off rescinded for the next two seasons.”

Adonis’s face fell. He could take the lashes, but with no time off, how could he possibly rebuild and try again?

“For conduct unbecoming,” Sola’s eyes flicked to Tallion. The elder councilor gave a slight nod. “... council recommendation is hanging by the neck until dead.”

Adonic braced himself on the railing. Had he heard that correctly? The room burst into gasps and complaints and cheers.

Adonis turned in confusion. He scanned over the Firi in the chamber and found Mayla. She stood in the corner, smiling her beautiful, sad smile. She wore a white dress, her hair shining like a sunrise. Adonis was dizzy. It was hard to breathe.

“Trapper Adonis has assaulted our very way of life,” Sola continued over the swelling nose.

“He built a machine, Sola. How is that treason?” Cora said.

“It hardly warrants execution,” Councilor Prita added.

“Who would take the trapper’s duties? He has no apprentice!”

“We have to make an example.”

So many people were speaking. Adonis wanted to plug his ears, to close his eyes and find Mayla in the darkness. He imagined her arms around him, her smell in his nose.

“Why,” a deep, velvet voice cut through the rest without effort, “do you want to fly?”

It was Tallion. The burly, dark-haired councilor stood and held up his hands for quiet.

“It ...” Adonis mumbled, his mind racing. “The below, I … the Polu birds.”

He had reasons! He had such compelling reasons!

Councilor Tallion gestured for Adonis to continue. The councilor’s smile never cracked or dimmed.

Adonis squinted, trying to focus, trying to blink away the spinning. The reasons to fly were there, just beyond where his mind could reach.

Food! The colony needed food. Flying machines could provide food. He could build flying machines. That was good. That was the best reason. Adonis took a deep breath.

But no. Something nagged at his thoughts. He had told them already. He had stood before them and spoken of food; they had not cared. He was so tired of trying to explain things. Why did the world have to grind him like this? Why couldn’t the council just understand?

Instead, he turned to the firi behind him.

“We have all seen things that we can’t explain - shadows that dip us into darkness - bright colors in the air. We have all heard strange sounds and seen strange lights. Don’t you ever wonder where they come from? My father spoke of the below. He would tell me stories ...”

Tallion shook his head and clicked his tongue. “No, no, no, that’s not the reason.” His grin never faded. “Tell the truth now, trapper.”

Adonis blinked. That was the truth.

Tallion continued, “It was three seasons ago, I believe, when your wife fell, was it not? Your wife was a soldier, a rare beauty if the stories-”

“You do not talk about her!” Adonis bellowed without thinking. He looked for Mayla in the crowd. But she wasn’t there. She hadn’t been at all, just in his mind.

Tallion smirked. “Isn’t it true that you harbor some hope that she may still live?”

Adonis closed his eyes and saw it happening again - Mayla surprising him at the edge with a basket lunch - his son leaning over to see the trap below - Mayla lunging to pull him back but slipping - tumbling off the edge of the world without a sound.

“They did survive,” Adonis said. “I know it. There is something down there. The firi were made to fall. We have just been too afraid to try.”

The crowd hushed as Tallion stood with an exaggerated sigh.

“Look at this man, the ideas he harbors. With so many going hungry we cannot allow such sedition. Ideas are dangerous.”

Something in Tallion’s words triggered that nagging feeling. No, not his words. His voice. And then he realized what it was: Tallion had been the other voice in the depot. Tallion had been there, collecting something from Rafa.

And then it all fell into place. Adonis’s jaw dropped open, and his eyes widened. He turned to Tallion.

“You don’t want more food,” Adonis said, “You want us to be hungry.”

“What was that?” Tallion raised an eyebrow.

“It was you ….” Adonis muttered. “In the depot. And it was food left to rot that you were collecting. But why?”

The mirth evaporated from Tallion’s face. He opened his mouth to reply but closed it again and looked to another councilor. The room grew quiet, a few confused whispers hushed by neighbors.

After a few heartbeats, Tallion turned back and said, “The council's business is not your concern.”

Adonis turned to the firi behind him. They were good people, hard-working. Adonis loved them, even if they rejected him in turn.

“My friends. Councilor Tallion has betrayed us. He holds food back, using it as an incentive to keep us working.”

“Be silent, you insolent-”

“I will not! ‘We’ will have more next week.’ That was what Rafa said to you. More what, councilor? What did you do with it!” Adonis was yelling now, years of pent-up anger and disappointment coming out with flying spittle. He should have been afraid. But he wasn’t. What could they do to him worse than burning his machine?

“I’ve heard enough. This man must be destroyed. Take him!” Tallion pointed a shaking finger.

No one moved. Tallion looked from councilor to councilor.

“What is he talking about, Tallion?” Cora said.

Tallion turned on her, snarling. “How should I know? He’s clearly addled!”

“He’s telling the truth.” A voice boomed into the chamber from behind. Everyone snapped to look at the speaker.

Rafa stood in sudden isolation, eyes wide and unblinking.

“It’s true,” Rafa said. “The council instructed me to keep half of the food from distribution to create scarcity. He collects it weekly.”

Adonis gaped at Rafa. Maybe not such a bastard after all.

“It’s a lie!” Tallion shot to his feet, drew a cane from his side, and leaped toward Adonis. Cora met him, her cane drawn and ready.

“You don’t want to do this, councilor,” Tallion growled.

“You know, I think I do.” Cora slashed with her cane, and Tallion met it.

The room exploded in violence. Soldiers and a few of the crowd rushed to Tallion’s aid.

This was a fight that had been brewing for years. It was a fight like the seasons, inevitable and devastating.

Adonis was not a soldier, but he was strong. He held onto the vision of his beautiful machine cometting through the sky, and he fought.

Adonis took a few blows from unseen opponents in the chaos. He found a cane on the ground and managed to block a slash. He lashed out at the soldier who had delivered it and landed the blow on the man’s side. The soldier screamed as his ribs broke.

Tallion fled. The soldiers supporting him couldn’t stand up to the overwhelming numbers.

Adonis's name echoed through the hall. At first, Adonis thought they were coming for him. But no, they were rallying to him. They had heard him. They believed in him.

Cora was magnificent, sweeping long strokes with her cane, holding off multiple soldiers at once as the battle lines formed.

Several other councilors had joined them, and most of the assembled crowd. They were fifty strong, more coming.

They spilled out of the council chamber into Parallax.

Tallion beat them to it, bellowing for soldiers, for all loyal citizens to assist.

The sun was starting to rise, the dark season was finally over. Cora screamed for Tallion, but he had most of the guards on his side. Cora’s repeated entreaties couldn’t overcome their training, their cherished loyalty.

They were going to lose. They had a hundred people, but Parallax sided with Tallion. They hadn’t heard! They didn’t know what he had done.

The fighting stalled, the two groups separated across the square in front of the council hall.

Cora looked at Tallion and then at Adonis.

Adonis was battered, exhausted, bruised, but he would fight on. He nodded to Cora.

“We will go,” Cora said, breaking the silent stalemate. “We will leave Parallax.”

Tallion didn’t respond. Cora turned and started to walk.

“We are giving up?” Adonis whispered at her side.

“No. But this is a fight we can’t win.” She sighed.

A few of the rebels melted away as they retreated, going back to their families, the passions of the moment draining away as the reality of their situation set in.

But they still had a hundred firi when they reached the wall. A hundred firi filed out of Parallax.

“Why did you help me?” Adonis asked as the group stood, silently unsure.

“I’ve known Tallion was a bastard for a while now. I had planned to take him down quietly, but … I couldn’t let them execute you. You may be an idiot, but you are my idiot.”

Adonis looked away.

“What do we do now?” Adonis finally said when he could trust his voice not to crack.

Cora looked suddenly tired. She turned to the firi who had followed them.

“The firi were meant to fall,” Cora whispered. She turned to Adonis. “Do you really think she’s alive?”

“Who, Mayla?” Adonis blinked. “Yes. I know she is!”

“We could … start a new colony,” Cora said, looking over the rolling wooden hills stretching before them. “I think Tallion will leave us alone. He will cement his grip on power with me gone. I had hoped more would join, but … I suppose we have a choice. What do you think, councilor?”

It took Adonis a moment to realize she meant him.

“What, me?”

Cora looked momentarily annoyed. She winced a little, “Just ….” She waved her hand, trying to clear the air of her emotions.

“But-” Adonis blinked, spluttered.

“The firi were made to fall. We have just been too afraid to try.” Cora said with a small smile, echoing Adonis’s words. “Shall we try falling then?”

They walked to the edge of the world. Below, the Polu birds circled and called out into the free, vast open.

Adonis nodded and took a long breath through his nose.

He had been afraid for so long. It was strange to feel the courage swelling instead. They had burned his flying machine, and he was grateful for that. It had broken his scarred-over fear. It had helped him see what was right in front of him.

“The firi were meant to fall,” he said. He took a few steps back and started running.

When he reached the edge of the world, he jumped.