Lillly falls backwards, the impact making a deafening noise which won't matter soon. Her arms are thrust forward by the force of the fall, and for a moment she thinks she must look like Icarus, falling from the sky.
VikingPilot stares at the cover of the book once more, some small part of him willing his shaking fingers not to do what they're doing. He's already risked too much. He can't do this again. He's already learned everything he's going to learn from this book. He's just going to make things worse for himself if he does this again. Lifting an arm, he slides his trusty blue-and-yellow tinted safety goggles over his oppositely heterochromatic eyes. Maybe they will help, this time. Not that he hasn't already tried them.
Except she's not a Greek boy whose wings have melted as he flies from his captors, she's a teenage girl in a purple dress running from the people she loves most, and she's not falling from the sky, she's drowning in her neighbour's pool. Everything is deadly quiet, and as the water pulls her into unconsciousness, she makes no attempt to fight it. Her head hits the bottom of the pool, and she feels her lungs finally open themselves to water.
The heavy leather cover of the book lands on the arm of his throne with a thud. His fingers brush the corner of the title page, pressing down with more force, and then he's looking at the contents of the book again. Beautiful calligraphy, if he can just make himself admire the way the shapes curve and swirl into each other without letting himself read what they say. But he can't. The words come too easily to him.