From On The Fly, Chapter 1:
The first trip was not easy. He was not strong. His body uncoordinated, the glider threatened to snap out of his grip, and veered off course more than once. Lyrio ached from his efforts, his muscles wrenched beyond their endurance. He feared he would plummet to the ground, but the wind remained with Lyrio, pushing him onward when his body would have failed.
The people on the ground could not see Lyrio’s doubts or his weak limbs. They saw only the results--their messages delivered, and the reinforcements posted in return. He received a medal for his ingenuity. It was silver with a fob of plain, blue ribbon, but a medal nonetheless. Lyrio would polish the small circlet and think of the adepts in Argoniss who, for all their study and spells, would never be rewarded for their toil. Knowledge was its own reward in those forbidden towers, and Lyrio told himself that he had found a better way of life.