There is a thrill to be had from flying. Spread your arms and rise up on high. The magic carpet lifts us up into the air, and we ride towards destiny. My friend, he is a pyromancer. He can make fire from the air and cast it forward to light up the sky. In the village they see us coming and tremble from dread. but we are not evil, in spite of our blackness. We come to bring light and fire to the people who have survived the darkness of the cold, cold night. So what does it all mean? Meaning is like fire. It warms us when it doesn’t burn us. What is it all for? Pursuing purpose is like flying, winging toward the next sunrise.
Catch a Falling Star 
I’m glad you clarify they aren’t evil because they are black.