The Day We Glided Over the Fog, Just the Two of Us

Story  ·  Leina  ·  May 30, 2026

Leina had always assumed the day would come eventually —
the day they'd actually fly the Sorveil.
But the moment it shifted from someday to today happened quietly,
without much ceremony.

In the corner room that morning, Yu said,
"Now might actually be a good time" —
and just like that, the Sorveil became today's.
Leina was still half-asleep, almost suggested heading to the
Bridge-Painting Building,
then laughed when Yu pointed out they were already in it.
That was when the body finally caught up to the day.

On the roof, the sky was its usual grey. Fine rain. A gentle wind.
The edge of the Fog sat quietly below, the bridge surface faintly blurred.
"Today's sky isn't bad," Leina said aloud —
and felt something small jump once, deep in the chest.
We're actually doing this.

Pulling back the waterproof sheet revealed the folded Sorveil,
heavy and silent as a damp old blanket.
Running fingers along the seams and the rusted frame —
no cracks, no tears, no serious bends —
and even though it was a familiar piece of equipment,
something about it felt like it was saying it's been a while.

They spread the envelope, raised the frame,
and sat down together before adding any lift.
Hips on the crossbar, feet hooked on the lower bar,
hands on the ropes — nothing they hadn't done before.
Yu's "we've done this much already" brought the ground back
into the body, just a little.

When the Aitherium valve opened,
a soft hiss filled the air and the Sorveil began to breathe.
The flat fabric swelled slowly,
the frame lifted just slightly off the concrete,
and the information coming up through their feet grew thin.
Still touching the roof — but barely.
That half-floating in-between, where one push would be enough,
was exactly where terrifying and beautiful blurred together most.

The moment a finger's width of space appeared
between the frame's feet and the floor,
the Sorveil had truly left the ground.
The solid weight drained from Yu's soles and Leina's ankles at once,
replaced by the tension of rope and the cold of the wind.
Something caught briefly in Leina's throat —
but then Leina felt Yu's hands on the same rope,
trembling harder,
and found, unexpectedly, a kind of calm.

"How does it feel? Strange in the soles of your feet, right?"
Leina heard the tremor in their own voice saying it.
But offering a way back now would send them both
to the ground side.
So Leina glanced once at Yu's profile — today we fly all the way —
and looked forward.

Opening the sail a little,
the fabric above gave a soft fwump,
and a lateral force was born.
The Sorveil took the wind and the Fog and the weight of two people together
and drifted slowly away from the roof.
Below: white Fog, the building's outer wall, the bridge surface.
Not falling. Gliding. Leina kept saying it silently, again and again —
and rested a hand over Yu's on the rope.

The ground began to drift behind them.
In reality, they'd barely moved —
but eyes without a fixed floor
decided on their own that the ground was moving.
When Yu said, "This is amazing — we're floating! The ground is moving!"
the wonder in that voice sounded like proof:
I didn't know I could still feel something like this.

Even while the view held their eyes,
half of Leina's attention stayed fixed on Yu's hand and shoulder.
Were the fingers still gripping the rope?
Was the breathing getting too fast?
Was the body twisting in a wrong direction?
Checking sideways — fear and excitement in equal measure on that face —
and telling itself: it's okay, this is still the plan.

When the far rooftop's edge drew close enough to reach,
Leina eased the sail and let the speed drop.
The push of the wind softened, the frame steadied.
The scenery that had seemed to move away
began, slowly, to come toward them instead.

"Look. That edge over there —
it's a little closer than before."
And for the first time, Leina felt something like genuine gratitude
for that concrete ledge.
The space up here had only ever been borrowed.
Now it was time to give it back.

Pressing a shoulder gently against Yu's,
Leina tightened both hands on the rope one more time.
The Sorveil let go of the wind, little by little,
and glided the last few meters through the sky of the Shroud —
toward the edge, and the ground waiting there.