Summary: My dearest goddess, Myria. Fallen from the sky into my arms. Such grace and beauty in a flawless flight my angel, my Myria. Hold on to your wings that keep you aloft, hold on to that feathery substance that fills your mind and soul. And you will fly again into my arms. FF/femslash.

Drowning Sky

Prologue

She wasn't afraid then, I could tell.

She was many things at that moment, but not afraid. Never afraid. I remember looking back at her soft form, pearly hair whispering softly around her. Her skin glowing white in the heat and light. Her deep, shadow-filled eyes pouring into my soul, my heart.

She was radiant…beautiful.

I wanted to say that to her, as absurd as that sounds. The words were suddenly at my lips and I wanted was to let them free. To see them traverse through the hazed air and to her still hands, hanging numbly at her sides. But I couldn't, there was hardly enough oxygen in the air to breathe, let alone speak.

As much as I could tell she wasn't afraid, I could not read what she really felt. I had memorized every expression on her face. Those long nights, burning the candles to their core, watching her speak to me. Her words were…glorious. I once told her that they sounded like the morning tide, just coming in at dawn. The cresting waves sliding onto the cool, dry sand. She didn't believe me.

Not that I expected her too, she isn't the kind to take flattering comments, even if they are well meant. I just like to say them to her anyway, to see her body tense for a split second, her clouded eyes darting nervously. And then utter calm as she tells me how crazy I am.

I wish I was trapped in one of those endless nights, where everything is draped in shades of deep orange and blue. Where is doesn't matter if we laugh too loudly or say something wrong. And she probably wouldn't mind if I…I…

But it didn't matter then and all these thoughts went past in a matter of seconds before I turned around towards the blazing core. It was rather ironic how I was practically gleaming blue, yet crimson red, rusty orange, and deadly white seemed to fill my vision.

So I looked up to my creator and my demise…

-The Two-Thousandth Seven Hundredth and Sixteenth Goddess of the Elemental Water

Myria