What if Amatu were to go up on cliffs and up in trees and work on his fear of heights. Sometimes, even severe phobias, can be lessened and controlled through careful exposure. While they're not always overcome, they can sometimes at least be controlled. After all, flying is an incredible thing to have when being an adventurer.
@internutter/challenge-03375-i087-elevation-trepidation -- The New Guy
On the Windy Plains there was an entirely different method of play. They called it "kiting" though it probably had a word known to professionals. It involved using the wind to gain as much elevation as one was comfortable with, and then going just that little bit further.
Vee Antheson, twelve-year-old draconic bloodline sorceror, was terrible at it. She would sometimes beg a 'lift' from Amatu just so she could attempt to fly with the use of a strong headwind.
Knowing that Wraithvine was waiting with Featherfall readied was a remarkable boost to Amatu's confidence. Yet, in its way, it was worse than learning how to ride a velocipede[1]. The first step was always learning how to move against your instincts. Chief among those was looking down.
Amatu had always had to mind his angelic wings and demonic tail. They ended up causing more trouble than he had ever intended. So his feet were always a reference point in his daily navigations. How far from this display or that stand or whose drink, for example.
The people of Merrivale had always been kind about it, but Amatu had learned young to keep his appendages in mind.
"Eyes on horizon," he chanted, holding Vee in his arms as he readied his wings. "Eyes on the horizon. Feel the air, don't look at it."
"ONETWOTHREE!" demanded Vee, human-shaped demon of enthusiasm. Well. Mostly human-shaped.
He had given Halfling children rides during Merrivale fairs, often renting a pony to carry him back up to the top of Crookshank Hill. This, he kept telling himself, was little different.
Leap up. Catch the wind. Go as high as he dared. Eyes on the horizon. Rawr was "too mature" for such games and Vee was therefore his only motivation.
It was working. Very slowly. Vee could coach him on 'air feel' and encourage his efforts once they were aloft. And, of course, it all ended when Amatu's wings began to ache.
Vee was still disappointed that he would not do a 'barrel roll' or a 'loopty loop'. Just flying was personal terror enough for a lad who wanted to keep his feet on the ground.
Today, he had stayed aloft and swooped about well. Even figuring out how to use swoops to put himself ahead of the cart and when to catch the air to gain elevation once more. Flying into a headwind was exhausting, but using it to glide? Brilliant.
He had stayed aloft for most of the day. And, to his surprise, was enjoying being airborne.
Then Vee made the mistake.
"You're eighty feet up! New record!"
Why did she have to tell him how high he was?
"Eyesonthehorizon, eyesonthehorizon," he whimpered, fighting the urge to curl up. He had a child in his arms! This was no time to panic! Breathe. Wings out straight. Glide. Just glide.
His tail curled tightly around his left leg and Amatu focussed on the weight in his arms. Child. Keep the child safe. Get. Safe!
"Steer me," he said, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "Tell me left or right. Help me get to the cart. You'll be safe on the cart."
To her credit, Vee realised what was going on. "You're doing great. You're right above it. Just keep gliding. You're fine. Deep breaths, Mister Baumkyn. I believe in you."
It was the most terrifying hour of his life, but he touched down safely in the back of the cart and, once there, wrapped himself in the big comfy quilt his mother had made for him.
Wraithvine conjured him a warm sweet cider to help him relax. "Well done. I do believe you may have conquered your panic instinct."
"...someone's going to have to rock me to sleep tonight," quavered Amatu.
[1] Before bicycles, there was something a lot similar, powered by the human riding it essentially running with it. Look it up, you're welcome.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / rozum]
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