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Wings of Concealing Snow

TypeGlider
Rarity
In-game DescriptionA stylized wind glider left behind by a bird of prey that once soared among these mountains.
Item Story
We shall rise again.
The withered tree has sprouted anew, for a time of still greater trial is coming.

So the owls warned the falcons once upon a time.

But the falcons, who overlooked the land ever, had it in their hearts to rule the skies.
And truthfully, what could challenge them for that dominance?
So they did not heed the warning of the owls, and even scorned them, taking them for cowards.
"These birds that only dare hunt at night are helpless as hatchlings," they thought.

Later, rime that froze the mountain like a pinning nail shattered the tree that shadowed the mountain kingdom.
And after that, a darkness that drowned the land like a tide snapped the branches upon which the birds of prey perched.
In that raging whirl of malice, falcons and sparrows alike fell to the earth.

Thus did the birds of the land of wind come to realize this:
Even the skies of freedom might be turned bone-white by ice, or painted black by smog.
The midday sun had been all but covered, to say nothing of the moon or the stars.

Fledgling birds curled up in their nests, waiting for the silent, tragic end to come.
But in the absence of light, the night-roaming owls thus gained dominion...

Until a long, long time later...
The weak young falcons would be kept alive, growing up on prey brought from places unknown.
The sky, too, would eventually clear up. And though the mountain would remain covered in snow and ice, life would grow again, faint and fragile, on the ground.

The nestlings would never know who it was who saved them.
The dragon, lovely as jewels, would also be forgotten, as would the eyes of the owls that had once shone brightly in the darkness.
Today, the branches that birds perched upon in antiquity have grown out once more, though they are stained an ominous crimson...

And though this is but a tangential matter, a crimson-red falcon that had perhaps left its flock to hunt and protect after dark would also take up the night owls' name.

In the silence of the night, they call out, passing the secret along:
We shall rise again.
The withered tree has sprouted anew, for a time of still greater trial is coming.

And so, I gift unto you this pair of wings. Let us witness that coming time together.

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