What the Wing Holds — The Ghost Wing Crystal Orb Pendant

Luna does not go looking for things that belong to the in-between. They find her.

This is the arrangement, and it has been the arrangement since before she understood what she was — since before she understood that dark fairy living in human form is not a metaphor, not a costume, not a choice she made, but a fact of her nature that the world she lives in does not have a category for and that she has long since stopped trying to explain. The in-between recognizes her. It has always recognized her. She moves through the high grey country of the upper Ashen Plains the way she moves through every place that exists between one thing and another — without a plan, with her eyes open, with the particular alertness of someone who has learned that the territory decides what you find and the only useful thing you can do is be ready to receive it.

The Ghost Wing — Crystal Orb Wing Pendant Necklace is what the in-between was holding — a crystal orb cradled in dark wings, retro gothic in register, aged in character, available in silvery, red, and pink. The wing holds what it holds. The orb carries what the wing protects. She found three of them on a stone shelf in the high grey country, and she brought all three back, and Midnight used the third rumble, and that is the whole provenance and it is sufficient.

The upper Ashen Plains are not the deep south where the Corrupted Forest grows, not the inner ring of the Tri-City where the traders work and the intelligent denizens move through the market with the particular efficiency of people who have been doing this for a very long time. The upper Plains are the high grey country above both of them — the place where the light does not quite reach the ground, where the air has the quality of places that exist between one thing and another without fully committing to either. Not dark, exactly. Not light. The particular grey of a threshold — the color of the moment between the decision and the action, the color of the space between the exhale and the inhale, the color of the Aether-Reach when it is close but not yet open.

Luna had gone up there for a different reason. She does not remember now what it was — the upper Plains have a way of redirecting you, of making the original errand feel like a pretext for the thing you were actually supposed to find. She had been moving through the grey country for two hours when she found the stone shelf — not a natural formation, not exactly, but the kind of surface that appears in the upper Plains when something has been resting on it long enough that the stone has accommodated it, shaped itself slightly around the weight of the thing, the way stone shapes itself around anything that stays long enough.

The wing was closed when she found it. Folded around the orb the way wings fold around something being kept — not displayed, not offered, but held. Protected, or contained. In the high grey country, the distinction is not always clear. She worked it free from the shelf carefully, because things in the upper Plains that have been resting somewhere long enough to look like they belong there sometimes object to being moved, and she was not in the mood for an argument at that altitude. She has had arguments with things in the upper Plains before. They are not arguments she enjoys.

It did not object. The wing opened slightly in her hand — just enough to show the orb inside, the crystal catching what little light the grey country offers and doing something with it that the grey country itself does not do. Holding it. Warming it. Returning it changed. Not brighter — different. The particular quality of light that has been inside something for a long time and carries the inside of that something when it comes back out.

There were three of them on the shelf. Silvery, red, pink — each orb a different register of the same thing: the light that gets in, and what happens to it once the wing closes around it. She put all three in her coat pocket. She did not think about this decision. It was not a decision. It was the obvious thing, the way obvious things present themselves in the upper Plains when you have been there long enough to stop second-guessing the territory.

Cinder was at the door when she came through. He looked at her coat pocket — the slight weight of three pendants, the particular way the pocket hung. He looked at her face. He stepped aside without comment. This is how Cinder says: I am not going to ask what the upper Plains were like today and I trust you made the right calls and I am glad you are back. He does not say the last part out loud. He does not say most things out loud. The stepping aside is the whole sentence.

She set them on the counter. Silvery first, then red, then pink — each one catching the amber light of the Attic differently, the crystal orb doing in the Attic's warm light what it had done in the grey country's cold light: holding it, warming it, returning it changed. The wing in each case slightly open, the orb visible, the dark feathers curved around it with the settled authority of something that has been holding something for a very long time and has no intention of stopping.

Midnight lowered his head through the skylight. He looked at the silvery one for a long time. Then the red. Then the pink. He used the third rumble — not recognition, not approval, but the one he reserves for things that have been in the in-between long enough to carry it with them, things that arrived from the threshold space and still have the threshold in them, things that are here now but are also still, in some frequency the earth magic can read and the eyes cannot, in the place they came from. He tilted his great head. He did not elaborate.

The wing holds what it holds. The orb carries what the wing protects. The in-between is still up there in the high grey country, neither one thing nor another, and these pendants came from it and carry that quality — the particular warmth of something that has been kept in the grey and is still, somehow, holding light. Silvery for the ones who want the threshold quiet. Red for the ones who want it present. Pink for the ones who want it known, who want to wear the in-between openly, who understand that the space between one thing and another is not empty — it is where the most interesting things wait to be found.

Luna found them. She brought them back. That is the arrangement. It has always been the arrangement.

About the Ghost Wing Pendant
What it is: Crystal orb wing pendant necklace — retro gothic, dark wings cradling a crystal orb. Finishes: silvery, red, pink. Select at checkout.
Style: Retro gothic, dark fairy, alternative — daily wear, layering, statement.
Series: Dragonforged — Midnight's Domain
Origin: The upper Ashen Plains — the high grey country. Character lead: Luna. Midnight used the third rumble.

What are the three finishes? Silvery, red, and pink — each orb a different register of the same thing: the light that gets in, and what happens to it once the wing closes around it. Silvery is quiet. Red is present. Pink is open.

What is the high grey country? The upper Ashen Plains — above the Corrupted Forest and the Tri-City, where the light does not quite reach the ground and the air has the quality of a threshold. The in-between. The place where things that belong to neither one world nor the other come to rest on stone shelves and wait for the right person to find them.

Who is Luna? Dark fairy living in human form. Black hair, green eyes that glow blue when her magic runs high. Heavy boots. The Attic's authority on everything gothic, dark, and alternative — and the one the in-between recognizes. She does not go looking for things that belong to the threshold. They find her. That is the arrangement.

More from the Ashen Plains: The Ashen Plains — World File & Canon Index | What the Cathedral Was Holding | Dragonforged — Midnight's Domain

The wing holds what it holds. What will you find?: Ghost Wing — Crystal Orb Wing Pendant Necklace