Backdated to April 30, 2026
WC: 3,035


Now and again, her hand wandered over her other forearm, nails digging small crescents into the flesh until she flinched and withdrew. Enough to leave temporary red marks, but more importantly: enough to trigger some tiny spark of pain to confirm to herself this wasn't a dream.

She'd had some of those before--ones so vivid and wonderful, some completion or another she'd longed for, some reunion that brought her to her knees in tears, only to wake up. Empty. Alone. Whatever part of her brain enjoyed being so sadistic was one she would be better off without.

But it was why she was so reluctant to believe this was… legitimate. Real.

Even if every scan from ENOCH came up positive--and she was grateful the AI didn't have an advanced enough programing to allow it to question why she repeatedly asked it to run diagnostic checks so many times--even if she stood there outside the hangar, winds pulling at her wings and the loose straps that hung from her flight suit she'd yet to fully buckle herself into.

Precautionary measures to wear it now. She couldn't trust the winds to glide like she once could, and if the ship did fail, she needed something to help her not crash into the terrain or waters below. The flight suit offered small parachutes, built-in fabric membranes between the arms and legs. Once upon a time, she'd have been offended to wear such a model. She'd trusted her own capabilities to free glide, enough to even feel confident to do a bail out of an airship. But that was lifetimes ago. Whatever her pride might have been then, she knew the risks she was walking into--soaring into--now. She wasn't that prideful to allow herself to make such a stupid choice and deny herself the use of the style of flightsuit once predominantly reserved for non-Solarians or those whose wings were somehow damaged.

Their increase in utility had amped up when the weather became so volatile, and the floating lands began to crash down, and no one could trust the winds like they once had, a faith lost by entire generations--

Kyrie let out a heavy breath, fingers moving quietly away from her forearm to the remaining straps, zippers, and buckles of the suit. Bit by bit, she shifted the material up and over her arms and shoulders, locking pieces into place, maneuvering her wings into the slits and wriggling about to close the air seals around the bases after numerous awkward poses and shuffling within the suit.

The sun peered through occasional gaps in the clouds above, daylight strong beyond the grey fluffy layer. She'd not asked anyone to come. Ran the last necessary checks with some of the Vanguard who'd assisted with the ship and repairs, ran simulations with ENOCH. Everything came back green. Even did more practice flights back on Earth--the fact she was almost about to get a PPL back in Destiny City wasn't lost on her in terms of irony, but the practice in and of itself, the sensation of flight even within the confines of the heavier gravitational pulls of Earth… she was grateful.

Immensely so.

Bonus more to the Mauvians who had helped pull together a simulation that closer matched the pressures and impacts of a jet fighter styled craft. The smaller, gentler personal use planes she was using on Earth didn't hold much of a candle to the more sensitive machinery and systems of a jet, or what she remembered of Solarian systems. Never mind that of the Kyrval, even with its adjustments through modern repairs and system limitations, which reminded her, she had checked the fuel levels right----

Again, Kyrie sighed, rolling her shoulders in a lame attempt to displace the tension there as she finished buckling herself into the harness, zipped the seals shut between the gloves and sleeves, and finally closed up the seal to hold the suit tight around her neck and to the helmet she finally slipped over her head and bound up hair.

The inorganic voice of the AI filtered through the internal speakers of the helmet once it was locked into place.

"< System on standby. Ready to begin the launch checklist program? >"

The boots of the suit thumped dully against the pavement of the landing field, taking her ever closer to the silver figure of the Kyrnsūl'vel. There, outside the hangar at long, long last, it gleamed anew and her chest was tight as she stared at it. Not quite the pristine state it'd once been, still marred with scars that weren't quite bad enough to require a full replacement of the outer shell, it was at least fully repaired, in a level capable given the limited resources and the capabilities of the Vanguard. One hand came up, wavering slightly before it came to rest on the flank of the jet fighter.

"< …are you ready to fly again, old friend? >"

"< Designation error -- please clarify the subject of your question. > "

The response from the AI made her smile at least, even as her hand moved gently over the ship, sliding along its side, dipping down low with her as she ducked under one of the sleek wings.

"< Ignore previous question. Begin launch checklist. >" Her voice sounded stronger than she felt at that moment. Some sort of confidence she wasn't sure she fully earned, but could at least project without much issue. She trusted the Velencians and their work. She trusted the Mauvians and their work. She once trusted Solarian technology. She once trusted her own capabilities in the air. Kyrie sucked in a deep breath of the salt-tinged winds, and held it deep in her lungs as she reminded herself over and over of these new and old faiths. It wasn't merely her own strength at play here--far more had come to rebuild this ship. If nothing else, she could keep her faith in that, in those that had helped her.

The only reason she didn't have them here now was…

She winced.

It was that bit of fear in case something did go wrong.

She'd fall on her own. No one else needed to carry that.

The walk around the ship went over quickly as expected, vocalizing the status of outward parts and pieces, confirming manual checks and visual confirmations. The AI reached out to the system of the Kyrval from the tiny droid body it occupied, triggering the cockpit canopy to open with a low hum and exhale of a releasing air lock. Kyrie reached up to the hand holds along the side, hoisting herself up over the edge and slinging her legs into the cockpit. The black material of the seats, control panels, really everything inside the cockpit, were cool despite sitting in the open air. The sun wasn't strong enough yet to heat them. She slipped down, sliding into the seat where her wings tucked against her back, resting comfortably into the indents in the back of the chair. A few shuffles of the limbs later, and she could feel the small switches along the edges of the indents, life support system and bail system triggers she could hit with enough force if she couldn't make contact with them on the control panel in front of her. She maneuvered the X-crossing straps of the harness connected to the chair around herself, not hindering her movement but helping to secure her in place even in the roughest parts of flight. Ideally.

"< Harness secure, >" she said plainly, the AI already linking into the computer systems of the ship, or what it could minimally access without the power on. Her fingers moved deftly over the control panel involved with communications, ensuring it could link between the radio in her helmet and the ship's systems to allow for outward broadcast. Not that she'd need it then, but standard check protocols required it. "< Canopy closing… >" She glanced up, watching as the semi-opaque black tinted reinforced glass-like material slid back into place. She could hear the thrum of the airlock starting to kick back in and the seal ressecuring once it was closed and she was encapsulated within the cockpit. "< Canopy locked. >"

"< Powering on. >"

"< Confirmed, awaiting system activation to begin syncing, >" said the AI in typical response. Her fingers moved, striking up the ignition of the master switch. It wasn't the first time she'd powered it on. No, there'd been numerous other checks before now, testing fuel systems, confirming the control panel worked, that all the various parts and bits all functioned after the repairs, that new components meshed into place and ran smoothly as required. The light hum began to increase, a dull rumble outside of her helmet and a vibration through the ship telling her the fuel had hit the systems correctly, and lights flooding her vision as the control panel lit up. She let out a soft breath. Big step one, done. "< Syncing started… please hold… >" Already, she was looking over the status lights, even as ENOCH began to list out the status of systems as it began to have contact with each. No red warnings. Everything was running. No issues or errors detected.

"< Beginning systems check -- fuel levels… check. Hydraulics… check. Oxygen… check. >" On it went, the AI vocalizing its scan results just as Kyrie confirmed them herself on the screens. "< Radar online… check. Sensors online… check. Performing initialization tests… confirmed. Testing contact with auxiliary power unit… check. >" There was a surreality about this, hearing the checks being performed, this time without the presence of others, and in actual practice--not testing to confirm the repairs were holding or adaptations were efficient.

"< Engines start… engaging fuel pumps. >"

A louder hum kicked in, and Kyrie clenched her fists briefly in a dull reflex. Her pulse was amping up, a beat erratic that yet tried to hit in time with the systems vibrating and roaring around her. " < Confirming flight controls, > " she said, hands moving over the control panels and seeing more green lights flicker with each test. Wing flaps. Ailerons. Rudder. All check. Even the checks for a weapons system that was barely a cough of its old self, they still were green, armed and safe. Breaks, check. Flaps set.

" < Checks complete. Beginning shift to runway. > "

" < Confirmed, begin shift to runway, > " the AI chimed, and Kyrie's hands settled firmly on the wheel. The ship began to roll forward, nose turning with the wheel gradually till they were onto the main length of the long untouched runway. She'd never gone past this point in checks and trials. This was it. Her heartbeat was a wild buzz in her ears. For a moment, she just stared down the grey expanse till it eventually ended in empty air. From where she sat, she couldn't see over the edge of the plateau, but she knew. Empty air into the ocean, if they managed to even clear the rocky ledges and scritch of beach below. Once she began the next steps, there was no stopping it. She either flew… or she fell. There was no room for any other option.

Kyrie felt the corners of her lips twitch upward in unsteady, almost manic smiles. No other option forward, far as she'd ever seen. Whatever magic of her world that kept her restricted to this island didn't allow her any other routes. Beneath the gloves of her suit, her knuckles were white, grip straining against the wheel.

Had flying ever seemed so frightening to her before?

She, who was born to the skies?

Something about that pricked her pride in a fashion she allowed herself. The skies of Solaris had long been her safe haven and freedom. Her home between and beyond homes. She'd taken to the open air countless times, accepting only her own skills and the will of the winds. Her gaze flicked up, to the soft, gentle layers of clouds so far above. She missed her skies. Her chest was so tight. She missed the upper lands.

She missed her freedom.

" < Start takeoff. > " The wheel breaks were firm in her grip as she began to push the throttle forward. The engines whirled and roared, nothing stalling or hiccuping or faltering. The instruments all read green, no red warnings came to her, ENOCH didn't sound off any alarms.

Kyrie killed the breaks and shoved the throttle till she felt the click past the last safety lock, and the Kyrval, with its centuries of grounding, with her centuries of grounding, erupted into heat and flame at its back. Kyrie was slammed back into the seat, an uncomfortable position even with the protection of the specific design of the chair's back to accommodate for her wings and this intense pressure. The cockpit around her vibrated, and even the screaming of her heart was drowned out by the engines' roaring.

They moved forward, speed increasing as she knew, there was no stopping this now. She'd made her choices. From foot pedals, she switched to the stick for directional control, ENOCH's digital voice clear through her helmet. " < Reached V1 speed… reached V2 speed. > " The runway was racing past beneath them, the edge of the island coming ever closer, ever faster. She'd fly, or she'd fall.

Her eyes moved up, and she pulled back on the wheel, breath catching as she felt the nose of the ship begin to rise. She couldn't breathe. Muscle memory kicked in before she could think, aware only of the rumbling of the wheels on the broken runway ceasing, and the edge of the island was vanishing beneath her view. The sky stared back at her, the cloud coverage wispy and soft. The Kyrval's wings carried the load, and she felt the immediate sensation of pure weightlessness for a brief second as the land fell away behind her. Kyrie could barely see through the water that pooled at her eyes. She could barely hear her own laughter above the engines and ENOCH's checks still droning. The landing gear was retracted, and she could feel the gentle thump of the machinery locking into place before the panel slid back once more. The flaps on the wings adjusted and lowered, landing lights flicked off as they were no longer necessary for the moment. Her screens lit with data but she could barely look at them. She could feel it. Let the throttle back a bit, reducing into a controlled climb.

Clouds caressed the Kyrval as it lanced through them, breaking through the first few layers into the middle aerial zone of the upper lands. Kyrie laughed. She screamed. She swore and spoke prayers she'd not uttered in centuries. Up and up they went, till she saw them at last break the upper layer of the clouds of that aerial zone that signalled their arrival at the maximum coasting altitude. She let the ship even out, sunlight blinding even through the tint of the cockpit shell. Peach skies warmed her soul, a calmness she'd not felt…

" < Engines running at optimal levels. Altitude achieved for planned route. All systems clear. > "

" < Take photos, > " Kyrie rasped out, needing this proof. " < Or whatever. Scans. Radars. Just… just record this. > " It was a dumb request, she knew that, but… she needed it.

She had photos on her phone from when she first got airborne in a plane on Earth during her lessons there. But she didn't bring her Earth phone with her on the flight, and to be fair, she'd be unsure about taking photos with it on Solaris without checking securities with Realta. So she went with her other option: utilize the various surveillance devices and protocols ENOCH had access to, and find a way to export some photos later.

" < Recording in process. > "

Kyrie couldn't stop smiling. Her cheeks hurt. Her eyes burned. Her hands moved to the latches for the seal on her helmet, pulling it off and staring with her own eyes unfiltered by the visor at the scenery around her. Sure, she still had the filtering from the canopy, but…

" < Drop canopy filter. > "

" < Error. UV exposure is heightened at this altitude, removing the filter-- > "

" < Designation, Kyrie. Administrative authority access. Override safety protocol on previous request. > "

The AI paused for a moment as its systems processed the stream of information she'd given it, moving through the various levels of safety procedures and security clearances till the bars were lifted. " < Acknowledged. Administrative authority valid. Override safety protocol granted. Dropping cockpit canopy filter. > "

She shut her eyes immediately, part of the filter being that it helped to dampen the sunlight a bit to not be as blinding. But she could see it even through her lids as the shield came down, and the full warm, orange sunlight came piling into the cockpit with her. Slowly, she opened them, blinking rapidly to help clear both tears and the pain of too bright light till her eyes adjusted.

And then she could see it.

Her skies.

Her Solaris.

And she let herself openly weep to behold such a thing again at last.

Her hands were gentle on the wheel of the Kyrval, reaching to pat the control panel, the chair, the side of the cockpit, the canopy itself. It was a lifeless machine, yes. But it and ENOCH had been her greatest companions for so long… then she lost them.

Her heart squeezed. Oh how it choked her. ENOCH… her brain stuttered, recalling warmth and a scary man that never frightened her---

Kyrie stared out over her skies, relaxed in her seat and feeling her tears dry on her cheeks beneath the brilliance and warmth of the sunlight. There were so many things she couldn't recall any more. Barely even impressions lingered. But she recalled this. This calmness. This peace.

She would focus on this peace for now. This wholeness. Her fragmented self had recovered slightly with this return to the skies of her homeworld.

The fire that swirled in her heart, that waited trapped, caged…


She'd indulge it, too, soon enough.