Silverwing

something that had been there previously that she could not access now. She was new to the world, and yet she knew, in the deepest parts of her soul, that this was not the first world that she'd experienced. impress her flightmates, or her bosses, or her friends. Lightning was practical if nothing else. Silverwing was practical. She tried to let go of those feelings, tried to forget, even more than she already had, what came before. she buried herself in her work, building strange machines for the Stormcatcher, each more convoluted than the last. She was promoted again and again, she was admired, she was respected, she was still... lost. pointless, despite the Stormcatcher's speeches. Feelings that nothing new was ever said, no new ideas were produced, though new products and equipment were designed and churned out daily. What was it all for? closely about their projects. They were either evasive, confused, or they simply refused to answer her questions. Next, she tried speaking to her coworkers. Why the divide between the flights, why the constant war with the beastclans. She was met with mostly blank stares, as if she had questioned whether gravity was real. War and work were simply facts of life. yet felt she had achieved so little. So she left. Wandering the wilderness, she considered her options. Joining another flight was not an option, as it would be the same as the last. Being alone wasn't an option either. There must be others. Others like her. truly discover their purpose in the world, without the threat of constant violence. Maybe even one that could help her discover what came before.