I skid to a halt in front of my friend. She doesn't need to use words to communicate why she is so upset, I can see it through the lenses that cover her eyes. She regrets this already, but there's no turning back.
"You'll come to accept it," I say, rapping my wings around her, "We'll suffer together. I'll never leave you."
Eerie blinks, having just noticed my new wings. I pull away slightly, spreading them out a bit.
"So, project Phoenix was a success?" she asks.
"I didn't know I'd done it until I attached the wings." I flapped them twice slowly, "They're permanent now."
Eerie rises to her feet and examines my wings. "How in Aethasia do these work?"
I shrug, "Having never built these in the Factory, I have no idea."
The moon is full tonight, reflecting boldly off the Old Mount. Eerie and I stare upwards towards the Sanctuary, daring to hope.
"Do you suppose they'll except us?" Eerie asks, a glimmer of hope behind her lenses.
"Well, we'll never know until we-" I stop short, a figure in the moonlight catching my eye. A young man sits on a cliff above us, his white wings with flecks of black shining in the moonlight. I gasp, causing Eerie to glance in my direction.
"Look, Eerie, an angel!"
Eerie gasps at the sight of the stranger, "That's no angel, K." she corrects me, still in awe.
"I know," I tell her, He's one of the wynged!
The stranger flinches a bit, but remains in his seated position. I turn my head and grab Eerie's shoulders, turning her in my direction.
"What in Aethasia are you doing, K?" she snaps at me.
"Shh," I reply, "he can hear us, and our staring is making him uncomfortable."
Eerie raises an eyebrow behind her lenses. "How can you tell?"
I sigh, "The same way I've always told." Please don't make me explain again!
Eerie growls under her breath. She's been an emotional volcano ever since her self-guided experiments began.
"Shouldn't we try to make contact?" she asks, "After all, our goal is to-" Eerie suddenly gasps, the wynged stranger has disappeared.
"It's a if he was never there . . ." she sighs painfully.
"A ghost wyng!" I whisper, the exciting feeling of mystery welling up inside briefly. Before being crushed by the build up of Eerie's rage.
I've witnessed her "losing it" before, and I can honestly say it's not a pretty picture. I slowly back away, and page through my mind for a song to calm her down. I'm not the best singer, but one song in particular calms her nerves.
You must go where I cannot, Pangur Ban, Pangur Ban. Nil sa saol ach ceo, Is ni bheimid beo, ach seal beag gearr.
As in continue the strange song, Eerie's temper falls. I learned this song from a girl at the factory who spoke another language. She would sing that song every night, every morning, every moment she could. She being the next letter down, I learned her song well. Eerie breaths a sigh of relief and returns to her senses.
"Do you suppose the ghost wying will return?" she asks softly.
"To be honest," I reply, staring at the moon, "I don't believe he's left."