Malpas

Malpas casts his eyes to the ground again, watching the clan that has arrived for a festival a few days back. They are an interesting group to say the least, a whimsical band of pirates that were as likely to pillage as they were to just have a good time. They seem so odd, the duality splitting each in half like a saber. Arcanist follows his line of sight.
"Malpas. Have you thought about joining them?" The god questions.
"I- No I haven't. This is my home, with you and the other gods." He falters.
"Forgive me, my dear Malpas." Arcanist gives a sad smile.
"Forgive you? My lord, you have only helped me." He replies quickly, upset to see the god sad.
"I'm sorry that I didn't see your pain." A look of worry settles on Malpas' features "We will meet again Malpas" Arcanist felt a stab of pain as the look of betrayal and fear setted in Malpas' purple eyes as Arcanist pushes him off the tower. "I hope you see that this is for your own good Malpas. I will watch over you, and I know you will find the answers you seek."

The Fall

{Warning: attempted suicide, skip if it bothers you!}
Malpas falls, unwilling to open his wings. He doesn't feel betrayed by Arcanist, but he can't help the pain in his chest. 'It's my fault.' He thought as the wind whipped around him. 'I failed him by being this way.' The ground is getting closer. 'I'm nothing more the a disappointment.' His eyes burn. 'I made him hate me.' Someone shouts from below. 'Why must I mess everything up.' He screws his eyes shut. 'I give up.' A shadow falls on him. 'I don't want to continue.' A form wraps around him. 'Wha-' They crash into the ground.


{Summary: Malpas fell from the tower and someone caught him on the way down.}

Down Below

Malpas shifts slightly and attempts to stand, thinking the past few moments where just a dream. But he is sent to his knee as a searing pain tears through his back and wings. It's clear now that it really happened.
"How did I survive that fall?" He looks around carefully then remembered the feeling of being held. Someone caught him, "But who?"
The sound of a glass shattering snapped him out of his retrieve as a hatchling runs back out of the tan tent, leaving behind a damp piece of cloth and what looked like a broken bowl. As he tries to shift again he see something that causes him to stop. "M-my wings. . ." he whispers in disbelief as he touches the once silver white wings that now contrasted him like the full moon on a starless night. His feathered wings were damaged in the fall, their iridescent shine now coated in black.

The tent curtain flings open to reveal. . . .

"Ah, you're awake, ol' chap!" the tiny skydancer chirps.

Malpas blinks. Was... was this skydancer the one who saved him? He was so small...
As he is trying to work it out in his head,
a purple imperial enters the tent. Ah, so she must have been the one who had caught him. It made far more sense.
"Loko, give him space," the imperial says in a deep, commanding voice.
By her appearance, she had to have been the leader of the band of pirates. The skydancer, Loko, had to have been a messenger of some kind. At the imperial's command, the skydancer stands aside and the imperial approaches Malpas.
"I see you have survived your fall," she says as though it was nothing out of the ordinary. "My name is Vitoreva, and I represent the Alliance of Frozen Gears. Ordinarily we do not harbor strangers within our ranks, but Loko here believes you were sent here for a reason."
Malpas' attention turns to the skydancer.
"Indeed I do, old bean!" the skydancer says. "When you fell from the sky, all I could think of was 'Astounding! An angel being sent to an alliance of pirates! Imagine that! What what!' and then I realized, of course, old chap, was that you were falling and in need of assistance, so I lent a claw!"
Malpas' gaze flicked back to the imperial for an explanation, although her expression was neutral and it was impossible to tell where her glassy eyes were looking. He almost wondered if she might have been blind.
"Loko caught you and insisted that we tend to your wounds, so here you are," she says.
Malpas squints at the two of them, "But... how...?"
"Ah, yes, well, that..." Loko trails off and removes his monocle, cleaning it with his cravat. He looks up at Malpas through the slits of his helmet, and the guardian sees that instead of any of the 11 elements he expected to see in his eyes, they were pitch, and radiating a shadowy substance darker than black.
"We all have our inner secrets and demons."
The skydancer then replaces his monocle.
"However, I believe you will fit in well with the rest of us pirates! A good adventure works out all of your problems. What do you say, old chap?"

---

Many moons have passed. Malpas has observed pirates come and go. He has watched as the pirates' hidden airfield has become more and more sparse as bounty hunters and keepers have taken down ships and their crews. Remaining ones grow tired and weary, contemplating leaving their community. Still, Malpas remains resolute.

These pirates provided him a home even though they had no need to. He has seen the world up close through their eyes. Yes, perhaps some of them are not entirely savory, but the Airfield of Gears is through and through his home. It has become his charge, and he will never abandon it and those who remain.