AN: All right then, this should be edited now. His eye color is the correct color and other stuff like that. Please Read and Review.

He grew up as a nobody, from nowhere. He’d no real talents, growing up, save for an affinity with horses, and being able to stand on his head. Not that that was worth anything in the tiny village where he grew up.

Now, working with horses was something worthwhile. His father set him up at the local stable that housed six horses and a pair of beautiful black stallions belonging to the local lord. He would work the day away, from sunrise to midday in the shadow of the stable, then loiter around long after his chores were done, followed by at least two horses at any given time.

He never learned to read, but the written word captivated him. What little wages he did earn were put into the household’s coffers, far out of his reach. Even if he did have money, in this tiny village, there were no books to be found. He knew that his father could read, and wasn’t too sure about his mother. His father always told him, ‘later’, when he asked if the man would teach his son to read.

He feared ‘later’ would never come. That look in his father’s eyes whenever he’d asked didn’t go unnoticed.

So he spent his days outside, under the sun that had turned his skin and hair golden. He played by himself, for the others in the village found him too rough for their tastes, and there were no others his own age. He made a play sword out of wood and fancied himself a warrior, slaying dragons and rescuing the princess.

Then the sun would set and he would return home to help clean the shop and listen as his father instructed him on what would become his future.

A warrior, not at all, but a flute maker.

Oh, he could play the instrument pretty, indeed. Once a week, he would be invited to the inn to play in the common room in the early morning to the enjoyment of all the ladies of the village. The elders cooed over him, his playing of the flute, notwithstanding. They seemed to really love his eyes, purple like never seen before, like lily’s littering the field just outside the village. They also found it quite amusing to tease his hair until it stood on end, causing a pout to darken his face and hours of grumbling afterward. But he returned every week.

The innkeeper gave him sweets aside from the pay. Those, he never told his father about.

And so it was a day of lax relaxation after the morning playing for the old biddies, as he lay out in the field with four horses surrounding him, that he first noticed the strange thing in the sky.

At first, he thought it was merely a bird, so far off it was. But then, it seemed to be falling, and falling quite fast. As it fell, it grew in size, then, suddenly, instead of only seeing a white dot, he could see that it was black, with a trail of smoke flowing away from it. Small flames appeared and reappeared around the object as it hurled through the sky.

Then, it approached and landed far outside of town where he could neither hear nor see it’s impact. He stood, wide-eyed, wondering.

Should he investigate?

He glanced back at the stable, the closest building, and beyond that, the village. He’d no duties today that hadn’t been already preformed. The parents weren’t expecting him home until dusk, at the earliest.

Decided, he took off at a run, scaring the horses for only a moment before they too started a gallop after him. They easily overtook his short legs and continued running along the field. He climbed over the fence and disappeared into the forest.

He leaped over fallen logs that had yet been cleared away and ducked under branches that would have knocked him from his feet as he sped through the forest. As he went deeper, he fancied himself a traveler in an enchanted forest filled with elves and trolls, instead of an ordinary one filled with squirrels and chipmunks. At the end of his journey, he would find a tower with a warlock presiding. Whatever it was that fell from the sky would belong to said warlock and the wizard would thank the boy by granting him a boon, anything he wanted.

What would he ask for?

Riches? Power?

He grinned, he would ask for magic. Then he would be able to learn to read and then the world would be opened to him. Or he would be opened to the world.

He swung off a branch and landed with his feel set apart and his hand on his hips. He lifted his chin as he had seen the lord do whenever he was in the village. He sniffed as he had seen the lord’s daughter do when presented with the poorer folk of the village.

With magic, nothing would stand in his way.

Suddenly, he remembered that none of this would happen if he didn’t find what it was that fell from the sky. His feet slid as he took off in an all-out run. Throwing his arms out to balance him, he laughed and moved onward.

Past the old tree that looked like it had a man’s face carved into the side and over the tiny stream that bubbled under heavy bushes and large brushes, he traveled, his mind conjuring all sorts of events that would happen once he found the object.

As he neared, the air began to take on the smell of something burning, and something he couldn’t quite place. He slowed his pace and began looking around him for signs that the thing had passed through.

A broken branch here, a burnt leaf there. He grinned and followed the trail from the tree tops to the forest bottom not far away. Indeed, the object had landed here. He cautiously approached the burnt mass, biting his lip. What was it?

It had feathers, like a bird, but some of them were burning, some were white, others were black, and the rest were in shades in-between. Then it moved, scaring a horrid squeak out of him. His hands shot to cover his mouth, and a blush covered his face and ears in no time flat. He quickly looked around, checking to see if anybody had heard him.

After being sure that indeed, nobody was there save himself and the thing, he turned back to it. It moved pitifully slow, unfolding and growing in size. His eyes widened as he realized that he was looking at wings. Huge wings that were longer than he was tall. They had been curled in tight into themselves like a ball, for protection. Entranced by this discovery, he once again approached, hand outstretched.

Thanks for reading.