So, browsing through my computer documents, I found my first attempt at writing Milo... And I think at writing in general? The document is from October 2020, but my first mention of him is in a notebook that says 2019.

I'm... much, MUCH happier with how he is now. But I can't not share this with you guys!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything has a reason for happening. Everything can be explained by science and mathematics.

Milo grew up in a small town, only known for it’s small university specialized in the natural sciences. In this town, magic is just known as a fairytale – a myth to explain the long-forgotten gods and their exploits. The gods that never existed, of course. They were just more tales and legends to comfort those who were afraid of natural occurrences. It is easy to explain a disaster through the lens of a wrathful deity. However, this village was also superstitious. As a gift, when people turn 20, they receive a tattoo to protect them and aid them. While some of these had abilities, these were explained by science.

At 20, Milo asked for white tattoos on his arms to help him write. His mother – kind, gentle, artistic Cath, drew them on herself, defying tradition of the local artist being the one to mark young adults as being ‘of age’. She and her son were close, and the only family each other had.

Milo spent his years studying the winds and other fluids under his friend and professor Jared Skyward. He seldomly took time to be with friends, but when they did, they would share an ale and discuss anything from academics to the people they fancied. While shy on the subject, he wasn’t a stranger to crushes on either gender, but was too afraid to do anything about them. So he lost himself more and more in his books and studies.

One day, while he was working with Jared, a dark shadow passed over his village, unlike any cloud or night. This darkness was unnatural, cold, and sharp. The sudden nature of it knocked most people to their feet, and only lasted about 30 seconds. When the darkness was lifted, Milo looked up, to realize his professor was gone.

Jared had surely just run away. Just as the other missing people from the village. People didn’t just disappear.

His mother… couldn’t just disappear… she was somewhere safe, she had to be.

It wasn’t a week later when it happened.

On his way home from the small room he called his study, Milo sat on the edge of the fountain to wash ink stains off his hand. Out of nowhere, he became dizzy enough to fall to the ground. When his vision cleared, he looked up to see many people looking at him.

Or rather, right over his shoulders.

Concerned by the amount of pointing in his direction, he turned to see his reflection in the water. He almost fell a second time when he saw a pair of wings floating over his shoulders, white with brown speckles and a copper detail at the very tips.

It was as beautiful as it was horrific.

The wings started fading slowly, but too many people had noticed. People were looking for another sign since the Darkness fell, and they seemed to think that that was it. Very quickly, people started calling him names, and tried to reach out to him. He ran home, cleaned his glasses, packed a bag and left, travelling north to find those who were lost. Every now and then, the wings would re-appear, so he’d hide, to make sure nobody saw them.

But that wasn’t what scared him the most.

On his journeys, Milo still took the time to find a comfortable rock to sit on and watch the wind move through the trees, continuing his studies. One day, as he was looking at wind patterns flowing through the long leaves of a weeping willow, Milo was attacked goblins. With only a walking stick to his name, he was able to defend himself for a little bit, before one got too close. He threw his arm up infront of his face, when suddenly the wind around him seemed to follow his instruction. The goblin ran, leaving him to contemplate and experiment this ability.

He could move the wind.

He could even create it.

Day after day, he practiced these newfound abilities, until one day, a storm broke overhead. Driven by curiosity, he attempted to direct the lightning that fell around him.

To his surprise, that wasn’t remotely difficult. But it scared him.

Was magic… real? What were these wings that appeared from time to time? Was he not human?