Just a small chapter to get into the mood and set the world building I've planned. : )

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Once, long ago, there lived a group of people, great explorers and inventors of their time who strove to challenge even the laws of nature itself. Outcasts of society, laughed and mocked for their many failed attempts and experiments, the few successful ones often forgotten or accused to be a fake. So, naturally, they distanced themselves from the rest of the world and continued their experiments, so far even that they made plans to try and make themselves a paradise, far away from the laughing and mocking, high up in the sky.

And a paradise they made.

Some say they used dark magic, others think it's a complex machine, far too advanced for the standards of their time. Whatever they did, it was successful, and it created a large, floating island high up in the sky, fully out of reach for everyone else on the ground.

The entire community of these people moved to their new home, leaving the world below behind. On top of the island they build houses, gardens and a large castle in the center, white walls decorated with flowers and plants of all kinds. The whole island was transformed into a beautiful city, truly a paradise for those casted out by society.

But the people on the ground became jealous, angry even, at the accomplishments of this group. They wanted it for themselves, tried to copy their magic and use it themselves, but no one managed to remake the miracle that made the island float.

And slowly, with more and more time passing, the island was forgotten about. Nothing more than a legend, a myth to future generations who ever stumble about it being mentioned. How could it not, when it's fully out of reach for the ground, never seen again by human eyes after it rose to the sky?

The new society grew and blossomed in their new home, continuing their research or just enjoy their life without worrying about being discarded again. They continued the development of the magic that allowed them to fly, trying to concentrate it down into something smaller.

Years went by, generations came and went with the two worlds never interacting with each other again. And then the second miracle happened.

On one regular night, the moon high up in the sky and casting it's pale light down at the peaceful city, a baby was born. A small baby boy, with bright blue eyes and a pair of midnight black wings adorning his back. Truly a miracle for the people living in the sky to be blessed with a winged child, a hope that maybe, this could be for all future children, that this is was their community is destined to evolve into.

They named the boy Philza, chosen by his mother. Their family received many gifts for the baby, being worship as if they were holy beings, gods even. He was given the nickname 'Angel' by many and as he grew older he became the city's guardian, it's pride and joy, someone special.

Yet, he remained the only one of his kind, the only one to ever be born with wings. And soon, they found out why. As his family, his parents and sister and the people around him grew older, he remained untouched by the passage of time. He didn't grew older and soon the rest of the community noticed. It was then that he was truly worshipped as a god, an angel, the guardian and protector of their island paradise.

At first Philza had seen this as a blessing as well, a chance to prove himself and be something great. To protect the people he loves. But that soon changed when he discovered the true meaning of immortality. Because being immortal does not mean not growing old. It means having to watch everyone around you, everyone you ever loved, fade away and die while you have to remain.

He truly understood that when he buried his parents... and then his little sister... and then his niece and nephew... and with every new new generation that passed by. While the people worshipped him and built him a statue, carved his image into walls and gave him gifts, he started to feel nothing more than a numb cold where there once had been love.

Because that's what he had become to these people. An image. Someone to worship. He's not a person. Not to them.

So it wasn't a surprise that when the community, after centuries in their isolated home, decided that they wanted to see the ground again, he remained on the island. They begged him to come along, to be their guardian as they explored the earth once more, but he refused.

"I was born and raised on this island. My family and everyone I love is buried here. My whole purpose, the reason I exist, is to protect the island and it's magic. I will make sure that no one will ever lay foot on this land and get their hands on our magic to use it for evil. My home is here... and I will remain here, as it's guardian."

And so, he watched them leave, while remaining on the island, guarding it for centuries to come, never once leaving his home.

All alone... with only the animals to keep him company.