Venta stretched his wings, yawning at the moonlight sky. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, his daughter clung to his back, causing him to shift a little. Cloud's wings were too small to fly properly just yet. She'd had a few lessons but the journey to meet the Collective was a long one. It was no wonder she was so tired after all that flitting about.

Venta remembered how excited she had been at the announcement of heading to the Undergrowth. Cloud had never met any other race outside the sylph before and the prospect of seeing sylphs, dryads, nymphs and pyriths all under the same sky was something he'd never forget. If only  Cloud could stay awake long enough to witness it. 

Venta couldn't help but chuckle, thinking about his own visit to the Collective which ended being shoved into a tree. But his unruly daughter proved him wrong once again as she huffed in response to his laughing, a sure sign that she was now awake and didn't like that he was laughing at her. Sighing, he slowed his pace just a little so he could stop and ask what was wrong.

"Come now, Cloudless. You know it's much easier for all of us if you hold on tight. You want to see your mother don't you?" Venta reminded her kindly, the wind tickling her hair.

He smiled at the sight of Cloud's giggling, the bright blue lights dancing mischievously much like the Trollians through the Ironthorn forest. After all, that was why they were headed to the Undergrowth in the first place.

With an agreeable nod from his daughter, Venta returned to his normally sprightly pace and darted from branch to branch, his wings flitting lightly with every step as he glided through the air. He understood his daughter's impatience. Any sylph worth their skills knew that if they couldn't fly then they couldn't provide for the Elfidari.

"No. I wanna fly like you!" Cloud interrupted, raising her hands in the air without a worry in the world.

Venta winced as his daughter's hand clipped his wings, sighing in relief as the blue blaze of colour and light faded into stark darkness. The entrance to the Undergrowth was like going through a portal into another world and the rush of adrenaline never got old. But Cloud was only concerned by one thing.

"Mommy!" She screeched in Venta's ear, almost causing him to drop his daughter in surprise.

"So much for wanting to be like me." He grumbled, rubbing his head for good measure.

The clearing spread out to reveal hundreds of his kind melding into a sea of colour. Pyriths with scarlet markings, golden tipped horns and four sect wings unfurled proudly stood surrounded by platforms of ivy ridden stone.

Nymphs hovered over the pyriths every word, placid but engaged in conversation on plinths of cooled magma. Their webbed feet clung to the slippery surface, wingless but could swim faster than any hurricane when given the chance. The ice ridden waterfall was an unfamiliar playground to sylphs and dryads, creating and tossing moss balls into the air for a makeshift gust of wind to pick up and continue the game anew. 

But despite Cloud's constant questioning over the last few days it was forgotten at the sight of a new goal. No scales, horns, wings, fins or Folka could keep her away. Venta didn't hold back his wriggling daughter, springing from his grasp and half dragged him towards a large crowd of haughty sylphs.

Even though she was already surrounded by guards, soldiers, consorts, businessmen and whoever else felt they required the undivided attention of the Elfidari, his wife Aura waved them all away. Swathed in silver, she made an immediate beeline for her daughter and scooped her up into her arms, cuddling Cloud so tight she squealed with happiness. 

Not wanting to pry on such a moment or become cornered by any council members, Venta pretended to root through the nearby sellers station for a few weapons. But not even his awkward bartering could be heard over the sound of a mother and child.

"Oh my little wisp, I missed you! How are you? Did you enjoy your father's flying lessons?"

Cloud's smile soon turned sour as she perfected the well known pout of a disgruntled child who didn't get her way. 

"No. He wouldn't let me fly on my own!"

The bright laughter that burst from Aura's mouth was better than any morning birdsong could bring. His eyes caught hers and all he could do was shrug which made her laugh even harder. Purchasing a new bow and quiver just to give himself something to do Venta slung it on his back half heartedly.

"Well, I think your father's just trying to teach from experience. Didn't I tell you on his first trip to the Undergrowth he-"

A shrill like warcry erupted from the base of the clearing, smouldering flames announcing the other trio of Elfidari's arrival like a flock of birds. But something was wrong. Soldiers fell from the sky like raindrops, the forest alight with activity and more importantly, intruders.

"Venta! Take Cloud and go!" Aura yelled over the sudden terror of her fleeing tribe.

"What about you?"

"I need to lead the Trollians to the Lasting Place! Now go!"

Before he could even respond, his daughter was thrust back into his arms and could barely register anything against the noise. Cloud was screaming for her mother, his feet following the sound of Aura's Folka and held his bow tight to his chest. Discarding it without a thought he held his daughter tight and rocked her back and forth.

"Shh now, Cloudy. We need to get out of here, OK?"

"OK." She said in a small voice, her attention diverted despite all the chaos.

Venta could feel the resonating sound of Aura's Folka encouraging his own to surface but fear of harming his daughter kept the ability clamped down. The triumphant thunk of giant stakes pierced the ground and several of his comrades fell to the pointed spires and sprays of giant splinters. Venta forced himself to keep going.

"Mommy…"

Venta ignored her questions, ducking and diving at every movement and sound. The stakes continued to rip through the stone columns, collapsing the waterfall as floods of nymphs caved to the arrows of death. The water ran red, streaming past the crumbling path towards the once pristine entrance of winding trees felled in a single shot. The portal was gone.

Venta's wings surrounded Cloud in a flimsy shield of gossamer, desperate to fly as fast as he could but he knew full well of the weight on his shoulders. He wouldn't abandon his daughter. Not now, not ever. Banishing the sight of his comrades dropping out of the air he held his daughter close and sang. 

Gales from far and wide responded to his call, the flash of blue light guiding him like a trail of stars before lifting him to the air just enough to get started. Shards of wood the size of a mountain streaked towards him, skimming against his back and severed away the delicate veins of his wings. 

A scream died in his throat, the pain and fear churning into a song, into his Folka that charged him forwards. Even without his wings, Venta's magic was relentless in following the chain of scattered Trollians that knew where the portals would open. 

"I take it back, Cloudless. Those bloody balls of light are worth protecting." He told her, the lilt in his voice still commanding the Galeforce Folka away from the fallen trees.

The Trollians that had been the entire purpose for his wife's calling as Elfidari had cursed him every step of the way. Aura had always taken her responsibilities seriously but it had tarnished his idea of freedom all to protect some mindless spirits to move onto the next unwilling realm. 

"Venta!"

He almost fell out of the sky at his wife's voice, her eyes wide with panic but most importantly, horror. Aura's gaze settled on the gaping wound in his back but he dared not look back. Still carrying a tune under his breath his Folka remained focused on escape, not wanting to deter his wife any further on her purpose. Not again.

"Aura! Look out!"

The flash of blue was broken by a strangled cry, Trollians scrambling in all directions without the aid of the Elfidari. Venta had never seen them as anything but annoying and useless but watching them distracting the monstrous weapons to help him was enough to forgo the resentment he had felt. Until he laid eyes on her.

"No…"

Venta's Folka died along with her, sending him collapsing onto a bough of a tree, still exposed but without a care for his safety. Cloud remained steadfast on his back but the sight before them was enough to silence them both. Aura was hurt badly.

The gaping wound in her neck was enough to confirm his suspicions. The intruders...somehow they knew what to aim for. Her breathing was shallow but she still smiled, lopsided but her eyes...her eyes were full of determination.

But he had no words to comfort her, no song left to give her but he knew she wouldn't...she didn't need her Folka anymore. The portals had faded without the Elfidari. They were trapped. Cloud shivered beneath his broken wing, quiet and afraid. But alive. 

"I…I can't fly. I can't keep my promise Aura, we-"

She brushed a hand against his mangled wings, the stems barely connecting to his back. 

"I know. I just...I wanted to fly with you. Both of you." 

Venta's wings screamed in pain, but his heart screamed louder. He wanted to hold her close, stay with her as long as he could but he knew. Venta knew he wouldn't be there to say goodbye. Aura rested a shaking hand on his, staring at him as if she had gained decades in a single moment.

"Momma, are we gonna go home?" Cloud asked, but she was silenced by a gentle stroke on her cheek in reply.

The Folka rose from the tips of Aura's wings to the winds rising high above the treetops, causing the Trollians to converge on the tree they were sitting on. But she was too weak to continue.

The Elfidari coughed loudly, blood streaming from her wound but she refused to let her voice die out. The remnants of a portal began fading as she forced herself to continue again and again. Just as he had done to save Cloud.

"Look…" His daughter said, tugging on his arm and pointing away from her dying mother.

Venta barely recognised the large forms of unusually plain creatures, their pelts so dark against the gloom of the night that only a flash of silver betrayed their position. The stakes they had used to slaughter his kind were like matchsticks in their hands, just like the very same bow and arrow he had abandoned in the Undergrowth. It wasn't until he saw the book hidden beneath its cloak did Venta understand.

"Traited."

His Folka rose in a torrent of fury and retribution, hellbent on tearing down those who had callously attacked them but Aura pushed the Trollians portal towards her family, desperate to save them. No matter what the Traited had done. It was that which stirred the young sylph to continue the song in her mother's stead.

Forcing himself to stand he clung to the scraps of Cloud's Folka and formed his own, watching as the light faded from Aura's eyes and the savages pierced her back with an arrow for good measure. His daughter tried once again to sing but this time he would not let her go. She had done more than enough with the Folka she had.

Venta kept singing long after the portal sent them onto safe ground still weightless and numb from the ordeal. The rush of gratitude he felt towards those Trollians and his daughter would never die. In a silent promise to protect them, Venta took back the words he had thought before the whole ordeal began.

Any sylph would know from now on that even if they couldn't fly: they could always provide for the Elfidari.