For this one, you must make sure your son is ready for a dangerous new life.
SON (any gender, early forties through late life)
Grupgar will assemble a mob. At least twenty will come here looking for you. They'll arrive by dawn at the latest. The villagers listen to Grupgar. Heaven only knows why.
I will tell you the path to take. But only if I see no doubt in your eyes.
Son, do you really want to join the fliers? Even if you make it to their section of the world... nobody knows if they're good or evil. You've been given a gift.
Flying... Grupgar certainly knows you have a gift. But to him it's a curse for the whole village, isn't it? I don't believe you to be a devil. But perhaps it's best you die the death of an angel: Misunderstood and martyred?
No, I'm not ready to tell you the path, yet. I must know something... I've dreamt of flying all my life. I never told you... but in my dreams, it never felt like magic. It just felt like I was climbing the air, one step at a time. Until the steps got fewer and suddenly I was gliding forward with each push of my legs... it felt so wonderful. Is that what it's like?
Yes, I can see it in your eyes. Go then. The path is simple. Fly only between dusk and dawn. Chase the sun at dusk and flee from it at dawn. Your grandfather told me it is three months by foot. For you, it will likely be only three days.
Son, I don't know what you are... I fear what you will become. But whatever may be, you are no longer a child.
Copyright 2016 by Matt Haynes. If you would like to use this piece, please credit: "Courtesy of Matt Haynes and The Pulp Stage