Closing his eyes Pyrus would take three deep breaths and open his eyes. Long gone was the throne room and it's inhabitants, instead swaying before him was the fire. His fire. Once a stranger to him but now a friend he commonly visited, walking forward he patted the sides of the flame, the holder of who he was and what he held. Gripping the sides with both of his hands he would pull himself inside, ignoring the quick spike of heat and excitement. Once inside it was like a different world. All around him was the flames of his soul, so close, yet also so far. He reached for the sides but they only pulled away higher and higher. With a chuckle he looked forwards to the many pathways.
The pathways, the carved by and for himself so he wouldn't get lost revealed to him his past and present, what he saw and what he did. Taking a path on the right with the floor of cobblestone he journey across memory lane. Memories hidden or forced behind doors of stone, wood, metal, and more banged against them, eager for Pyrus to remember, to feel.however he would not let them be tempted, he knew what he put back their. The memories of a father and mother whom he executed in front of their children before killing them, the fight at the Doors of Day where he killed his long lost brother, countless others of what he had done. Closing his eyes he would continue to walk forward, feeling around for the door he was looking for, finally as he rounded a corner and opened his eyes he saw it.
A large wooden door the color of the night sky and the grassy plains, engraved in gold and silver and a symbol of a bird as its handle. Walking forward he grasped the handle and pulled, opening the memory to himself. Long ago this door had served him another purpose, what he thought and wished freedom was. But now it served as a reminder for how it feels to be free. He focused on his friends, the sky, the newly formed rivers and tress, the forge, but he focused on only one memory. Feeling himself travel current Pyrus stood on a hill in the middle of no where. He saw his past self riding across these hills and plains at a quick distance, eager to get away from wherever he had come. Eventually he slowed his pace, letting his horse get some rest before continuing on his journey.
A distant caw drew both current and past Pyrus of their attentions the sun was falling and and streaking above them was a bird, a hawk to be more specific lazily riding the air waves heading to...tomorrow. A place unknown to most and can be a treasure or a disgrace. Both of them watched as the hawk flew to the sunset, the gold and red eventually taking its form. It was this memory in which he drew power upon for his wings.
