The wind in the Obsidian Valley did not blow; it cut. In a world where the sky was perpetual grey slate and the ground was made of jagged, dark stone, Lyra was an anomaly. While her people possessed wings of sturdy leather or powerful feathers capable of weathering the brutal gales, Lyra had been born with wings of pure, translucent crystal.
"There is a light up there, Lyra," Kaelen said one evening, his voice a low murmur against the howling wind outside the cavern. "The sun. It is not grey like it is here. It is gold. If you could only see how your wings would look in that light." Alas de Cristal - Carol S. Brown.epub
Lyra rushed to him. Ignoring the spreading fractures in her own wing, she leveraged the immense, heavy weight of her crystal appendages to pry the slab off his pinned legs. With all her might, she heaved. The stone shifted, and Kaelen dragged himself free. The wind in the Obsidian Valley did not blow; it cut
The updraft hit them like a physical blow. Lyra felt the immense strain on her back, her wings singing high-pitched, vibrating notes as the wind rushed past the hard edges. They didn't flap; they glided vertically, a perfect harmony of feather and crystal, light and heavy. "There is a light up there, Lyra," Kaelen