The Pocket of Asia [epilouge]

The howling of wind sounds lonely under the moon right above them. 

The nostalgic smell of a garbage dump mixed with burnt city fuel reaches Spes's lungs in a single breath that's lasted since the sun went down. 

"It's been a while since I've been here." Spes spoke, finally letting out an exhale signaling the end of her meditation.

"This is where you were planted wasn't it?"

"Yeah... not the most flattering place for a planting." Spes said with a stoic expression.

"Well I mean, I guess my planting was a little more symbolic than a dark alleyway for thugs. Freedom of the Ica and all that right?"

A girl about the age of Spes said in a soft tone and a shrug while scratching her head. 
She had deep, dark blue hair almost to the point of turning black. It was the same colour of the open sea during the dead of night.
It went down to her pelvis, with thin strands of bright orange highlights contrasting with the night.

"No Aella." Spes objected in a playful tone higher pitched than her normal voice, "I think a cramped alleyway is a pretty good representation on the lack of individualism." 

A pause settled between the two of them before Aella spoke.

"The pocket you were planted in determines your wings." she directed her gaze downwards towards the garbage dump where Spes encountered him. "But since we were both planted outside of a pocket, we've inherited the surrounding environment as our wings--using his wings as a base that is. It's why we didn't sprout one of the three wings of Japan when we went to have our seal released." 

Another pause creeped in, this time Spes was the one to speak,

"And yet..." Spes' upper back began to glow a deep shade of purple, her leather jacket began to rip open from the inside, and two wings, a majestic shade of galaxy purple around 2 meters each burst out of her skin, "These wings don't feel very garbage esc." 

They dived down into the garbage dump head first, and came out with ferocious speed in only a few seconds. The decomposed bones of those three boys were still laying on the sides of the walls, and were crushed into dust from the two Ica's wings speed. 

In the hand of Spes, who was now 21, was an orb that barely fit into her palm. She held it with both hands and the orb began to glow that same, reminiscent shade of pale blue as that night. It sparkled just like Spes's eyes, her wings began to change colour.
Half the feathers were dyed a pure white, and her hair grew silver highlights. 

"The Agent Of Moonlight. Seems like you were his choice." Aella said with a shocked expression plastering her smile.

The cawing of crows swept across the city skyline, and the same man, with long hair silver tied back in a tight ponytail and wings as big as they remembered. 

"It's been a while, Spes, Aella."

Those elegant words dripped into the ears of the two women.