Matt pushed off lightly with his legs, launching himself into the air, and Silvanus landed smoothly on his back.
With each beat of Matt's wings, Silvanus's vision grew a little darker as they ventured deeper into the ever-thickening darkness.
Yet he felt no fear. He knew this place would never harm him.
He raised a hand and swept it through the darkness. Instead of empty air, it felt like brushing against something tangible, dense, and substantial.
His fingers parted it, leaving rippling trails like soft clouds.
But before long, the darkness became so dense that he could no longer see those cloud-like ripples.
Just as he was about to tell Matt to fly back out, a tiny spark suddenly crackled to life at his fingertips.
Silvanus paused in surprise and absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against his index finger.
The spark grew brighter and brighter before suddenly flaring into a small, flickering flame dancing above his palm.
Silvanus remembered.
