After centuries of immortality, the world all began to blend together—I lost focus; I lost interest. Perhaps because of how incredibly long it had been since I'd seen a human. Not that they weren't around…I could see their cities and fields, I could hear the aircrafts passing by my ears, I could sense their presence around my feet. But I was now so large that even with my precise vision I couldn't make out a human against the landscape.

But they could see me, standing with clouds around my ankles, casting a shadow miles and miles long, yet also bathing the land around me in the dim rainbow light of my hair. I'd keep my distance, of course—I'd find safe places to sit and rest, if I had to move I'd always fly, and if I had to fight off a monster I would only use my hands. For one fumbled step or one wayward blast could wipe out a city, and that was a risk I couldn't take.

"Lady Rhylin?"

I'd learned from experience not to turn my head—in order to be audible, they had to get their aircrafts up incredibly close to my ears, and the slightest motion could destroy it. And so I simply waited, sitting very still, ready to hear what they had to say.

"There's a war brewing," the human explained. "The kingdom of Bavon is sending their forces to invade. Will you help us?"

I hadn't even heard of the kingdom of Bavon. And I certainly wasn't going to get involved in a war—even when I'd been smaller, resolving wars was always the hardest task I'd have to undertake. It required tact, it required diplomacy. Neither of which I could provide to microscopic beings. And I certainly wasn't going to let myself be a superweapon for either side to use in a game of threatening annihilation.

"No," I replied, keeping my voice as quiet as I could. "All I can do is wish for a peaceful resolution."

In the past, I would have tried to show more compassion, and it hurt me to not do so. But even expressions of compassion from me had been spun by warlords to claim that I was on their side, to intimidate the people they called enemies.

And as the voice in my ear expounded with plea upon plea, I stared up at the stars overhead. How many more centuries would it take before my head was up among them? I was already tall enough to see the curve of the planet, even when sitting down. Surely the stars couldn't be *that* far away?

And yet they were certainly far, and I knew that if I grew that large, the world would not survive. And this wasn't a world I was willing to outgrow.

I tipped my head to the side, away from the voice in my ear, giving them a safe distance. And I took off, hovering low, with the tops of the clouds still almost licking at my toes. I'd never flown higher than this—I'd never wanted to lose sight of the ground below. But it was a day for change. And so I raised myself higher and higher, pushing the world farther and farther away. I'd missed the feeling of flying; I'd done it all the time when I was smaller, and it was thrilling to finally take to the air once again.

It took longer than I expected before I could see the entire world—it really was huge, even to me. But it wasn't infinite: eventually, I could indeed see it all floating before me. It was certainly a relief that my first time beholding this view didn't come with being able to hold that pristine blue ball in my hands.

I flew for the moon. Even with how far I'd flown, the stars hadn't shifted position at all; they were much farther, but the moon was close. And I could sense that it bore no life. I could do whatever I wanted there, and harm nobody by doing so. And so I landed hard, instantly crushing mountains beneath me, sending shockwaves through the ground.

I waited for the dust to settle—it took weeks, but I was no stranger to the passage of time. And I wanted a clear view of the crater I'd created. I'd always had a nagging curiosity about the true extent of my power, but I would never test that on a world with life. But on a world without life…

I extended my hand and unleashed the strongest blast I could muster. All the tension, all the rage, all the blazing pent-up restraint…I channelled it all into power. The beam from my hand was burning so brightly that I could actually feel it—I hadn't felt heat in so long, not even the time I'd needed to enter a volcano.

But while it was a simple warmth to me, it was much more than that to the moon. I felt the ground cracking under my feet, and as I kept up the blast, the world separated into several pieces.

I flew in between the fragments of the moon, laughing with glee and relief as I swatted and blasted passing fragments. It would all coalesce back together eventually, but I was going to make the most of this.

It was a good day. I gazed back briefly at the world I'd left—I'd return soon. Someday. But for now, my future lay among the stars.