By the time I finished complaining about my growth rate, the cave had grown darker.
Not that it mattered much. My eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light.
Still… lying on the stone floor and whining wasn't going to make me stronger.
I stretched my wings slowly. They were big compared to my body, and they were strong enough to lift me.
The problem was everything else.
Balance.
Control.
Landing.
“…In other words, everything.”
I stepped outside the cave and let the cool forest air brush against my scales and feathers. A gentle breeze passed beneath my wings, making them twitch instinctively.
Not far from the entrance stood a tall rock formation. From the ground it had seemed modest, but once I climbed it, the height felt… significant.
Maybe five or six meters.
Enough.
I looked down at the ground below. It wasn't the first time I had tried flying. Over the past days I had already managed to lift myself briefly off the ground inside the cave.
A few seconds at most.
Barely more than a hop with wings.
But this time I wanted to stay in the air longer.
My wings unfolded slowly. They were actually larger than my body, wide and powerful, though still clumsy to control.
The breeze brushed along the feathers and membranes.
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Good.
I crouched slightly.
“Alright… let’s try this.”
I jumped.
My wings spread wide immediately, catching the air.
Instead of dropping straight down, my body tilted forward as I began gliding.
I flapped once.
Then again.
For a moment it almost felt stable.
Almost.
But the rhythm wasn't right.
My left wing dipped too low.
I tried to correct it, flapping harder, but that only made the imbalance worse. My body wobbled awkwardly in the air as I struggled between gliding and actual flight.
“Okay… okay… not good—”
The ground rushed closer.
Fast.
I tried one last desperate flap to stabilize myself.
Bad idea.
My balance collapsed completely.
And then—
THUD.
I slammed into the ground and rolled through the dirt in a very undignified tumble.
Dust rose around me as I came to a stop.
For several seconds I just lay there.
“…Ow.”
Nothing seemed broken, though. Being a draco-phoenix had its advantages.
I glanced back at the rock.
Then I sighed.
“…Again.”
The next two weeks were… painful.
Every day I climbed that rock.
Every day I jumped.
Every day I crashed.
Sometimes I managed a longer glide.
Sometimes I spun sideways and hit the ground even harder than before.
Once I even crashed into a bush and got tangled in branches for several minutes.
Not my proudest moment.
But slowly—very slowly—things improved.
My movements became less chaotic.
I started to understand how the air moved around my body.
How to tilt my wings.
How to slow my descent.
How to correct my balance midair.
Progress was frustratingly slow.
But it was progress.
And after two weeks of practice…
I climbed the rock again.
The wind brushed against my wings.
This time, I felt something different.
Confidence.
Not arrogance.
Not carelessness.
Just… understanding.
I crouched.
“Alright.”
I jumped.
My wings opened wide.
The air caught them instantly.
Instead of dropping, my body lifted slightly.
I flapped once.
Then again.
The ground didn’t rush toward me this time.
It moved away.
My heart raced.
“I’m… flying.”
Not gliding.
Not falling.
Flying.
The forest stretched beneath me as I moved forward through the air. The wind rushed past my scales, and for the first time since I had been reborn in this body, the sky didn’t feel distant.
It felt reachable.
I circled awkwardly above the clearing, struggling to keep my balance, but I stayed airborne.
A laugh escaped my throat.
“I did it!”
Of course, my excitement didn’t mean I had mastered it.
Landing was still a problem.
A big one.
When I finally attempted to descend, I misjudged the distance and crashed into the ground again.
THUMP.
I rolled once before stopping.
“…Still counts.”
I lay on the grass, staring at the sky with a stupid grin on my face.
For the first time since arriving in this world…
I could fly.
