Hours had gone by since Ashrik had taken off that morning.
The sky had shifted from pale dawn to blazing noon, then eventually to the soft amber hues of late afternoon. As he continued flying through the high winds, the sky had darkened into velvet shades of night.
Ashrik stopped a few times, though only for short rests. Not once did he step inside the space.
When he did stop, he hovered above the treetops or perched on what was left of hall-collapsed buildings. He just ate simple dried food he had packed, just enough to fill up his tummy.
The world beneath the sky and clouds bore the remains of destruction. More than once, he spotted small battles erupting like sparks of light.
Groups of espers fought off clusters of zombies, whether in the middle of ruined cities or some deserted wastelands.
Some achieved victory, while others were defeated. The explosions of ability energy blared in the air, mixing with the shrieks from the walking dead.
