Aither's Literatures

Aither wasn't always Aither. He was Flight- twice. The second time ended on a bitter note, an unfinished symphony, a minor in the key, the pen still halfway on the page, ink leaking from the tip. The first time was a crescendo, a great buildup, an anger that festered, guilt that consumed. It was bright and fast and burned like all consuming flames. He didn't know which time was worse. Perhaps leaving Flight behind was better.

OR;

A young Aither realizes that ties are no stronger than twine, emotions are fragile, and peace can shatter like glass. The events that, ultimately, lead to the Aither you know today.