Kaia the Argent Wing

The chorus was singing again, the drums were beating, and everyone who could reliably kill a furrel was booking it down the main road to Riddlebank. We had no idea how the bird would respond, but that piercing call couldn’t have been anything other than an acceptance of the challenge.

Gale duelled against gale as we bounded through the snow-choked streets. There were three teams, one with Quinton at its head, one with the Captain, and one with the Bandoner leader. Each team had to light two prepared houses, then defend those houses in case the bird tried something.

I was with the Captain in the centre, along with Brielle and her crew, Mel, Steve, Ben, and several other folks I didn't recognise. I hadn't seen Ben's friend Steve much since the first day, but he'd upgraded to a bow made by Tess and he knew how to use it. Sadly, with the exception of Alec, my friends were with Quinton because I guess the Captain didn't know or realise I worked well beside them.

At least there were people I’d fought beside in my team. Mel I was especially grateful for, because her healing was excellent. It was actually Brielle who was actually the most immediately helpful. With a sort of flamethrower spell, she melted large drifts of snow that got in our way, making the downhill dash far easier.

“Scorpions!” Someone called as we took our first steps into Riddlebank.

Squinting into the snow-filled twilight, I caught the movement that our lookout had seen. Thin, spindly shapes were moving towards us down the street. Nobody waited for the call to attack, and the Captain didn't give one.

A huge ball of fire flickered into being in my peripheral vision. Brielle stood behind it, her fingers and lips moving in concert to cast the spell. It leapt out across the dark in a rush, travelling in an arc as gravity increasingly took hold of the projectile, dragging it to the ground. Light flared—bright and dirty—and the sound of dying scorpions rushed back to our ears.

In our planning of this operation, the Captain had opted to find as many people who could use fire spells as possible, and when word got out, people began to spec into abilities with fiery aspects. So when that first shot had been fired, it was followed by beams of dripping flame and scorching arrows that exploded on impact. The snow in the street began to melt as the suddenly hot air was whipped back and forth by the duel between the bird and Chloe’s chorus. A thudding boom sounded from our distant left as the Bandoner-led group also met resistance, and I nervously readjusted my hold on my axe.

I had some armour, we’d at least taken the time to kit ourselves out properly, and a shield was strapped to my back. I quickly shimmied it down to my arm and looked out across asphalt that hadn’t felt the touch of the wind in more than a month. That’s when I realised the scale of the storm bird’s anger. The strange, spindly, four-legged monsters were swarming over and around the houses like multi-limbed liquid. There had to be hundreds of the things, all rushing the hill up towards Edgewood.

“We need to light those houses!” the Captain called, seeing the same thing I was. “We’re looking for numbers 120 and 121, on either side of the road— there, that white house with the fake marble pillars, and the one opposite it!”

Shifting my attention, I saw the houses in question. They were large by the standards of even the affluent neighbourhood’s standards, and very obviously made of wood even where the builders had tried to hide it.

In the half a second it took me to psych myself up to charge towards the closer of the two houses, I noticed something coming.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked to noone in particular.

Far down the street, but closing quickly, was a truck-sized creature that… I didn’t even know where to begin with it. Its torso was almost upright as it ran on two legs, and while the front of it was armoured with chitin like its smaller allies, the back of it was all feathers and sharp, protruding spikes. It was a theme continued throughout its vaguely raptor-shaped body. Anything that faced forward had chitin plates, and anything at its rear was all feathers and spikes. Its tail and forelimbs were still those of a scorpion— bladed and dripping with acid. The acid was so vile that I could see it dissolving the asphalt even through the clouds of steam that now permeated the air. Oh, and its head? Its head was that of an eagle, except the beak had been ripped out and teeth had grown out of the open maw into the shape of the beak.

All down our ragged skirmish line, our people faltered. It was just that hideous and terrifying, it was able to intimidate with its very presence on the field.

She's progressing faster than I expected. Cynath said in my head, jarring me out of my fear.

“Who is?” I whispered.

The storm bird. Her kind were created before humanity had discovered fire, when a primordial god of venom and predation mated with a proto-god of meat-eating birds. Their life cycle begins by imitating the form of the former, before morphing into that of the latter. That thing out there will become a baby storm bird in a couple of years. Then, centuries later, it will be able to match its mother in raw power.

“So what the hell do we do about it?” I asked, still fighting back an urge to flee. The fucking teeth-beak man…

Cynath didn’t say anything for a couple of increasingly alarming seconds as the large beast closed the distance. Then, she said, Chloe dedicated a portion of her chant to me, and her chorus are all believers. Therefore a small tithe of the power their song is generating is coming to me. I wish to give you power akin to that which you wielded during the night we created the zone of safety around your town.

“Do it,” I said, without a single thought of hesitation. One single heartbeat later, and I felt the power flood my veins like molten iron.

“I am the fang within her snarl of fury. I am the echoing rapport as she passes judgement. I am the blinding sheen on her drawn blade. I am the tender touch as she metes final mercy. I am the breath taken when battle is done. She is Cynath, and I am her angel!”

The words erupted from my lips unbidden, and the energy that had been boiling in my blood burst out to clad me in bronze armour embellished with silver. This time, a helmet formed that completely enveloped my face in steel, and yet somehow I could still see out of it. Behind me, massive wings with silvered feathers burst from my back in a rush. The feathers had changed from last time, too. While the actual fronds of the feathers were silver, the stems were black as night.

My axe and shield felt the touch of the energy too, becoming sheathed in bronze and silver that shone with the light of our mages as they fired volley after volley into the charging monsters. In my shield’s new shining surface, I saw my reflection. My armour was smooth—the plates on my shoulders, upper chest, forearms, hips, and shins all fit together with incredible precision. Everywhere that wasn’t covered by the plates was clad in the finest scale-mail. As for the helmet… it was smooth on top, curving down to cover my eyes under a visor that ended in a V shape that evoked stern fury. Below, where my mouth and the lower portion of my nose should have been, was instead a perfect set of lips, cast in bronze and set in a grim, uncompromising line. Around the lips and on the cheeks were faint engravings that reminded me of the geometric patterns on old south american ruins—A callback to Cynath’s most recent home.

I looked, entirely and unequivocally, like an angel of a goddess of war and beauty— And I felt like it too.

Although… I did make the mental note not to get too much air, considering I was now covered in metal and doing battle with a storm bird’s children. What I could do, was counter the hideous sight of that approaching beast.

“Look, my siblings, look at that thing!” I said, derision and contempt high in my voice. “My goddess says that it is the child of our enemy, and I find myself in sympathy. If I were to ever birth such a vile beast, I too would send it to its death.”

I ended my little monologue by invoking my goddess’ divine fire. Moonlight crashed through the choking clouds in a line, and it hit the charging monstrosity like an anvil. Its feathers erupted in flames even as it was driven into the asphalt face-first.

With a kick and a flexing of my wings, I leapt down the street, axe held high. My armoured feet sparked as they landed, and I used the lack of traction to spin and strike at the neck of the massive monster. Chitin shattered under the blade of my axe, revealing the pulsing meat beneath.

In its pain, the larval storm bird kicked and pulled itself upright, spraying blood everywhere and covering my leg and shield in the stuff. Oh no you don’t, you’re not going to get your bearings, you will die before ever comprehending what is happening to you!

My axe rippled as corrupted moonlight caught along its blade, and I swung it into the exposed wound with so much force I ripped the entire chitin segment on its neck right off. Even still it struggled beneath me, so in frustration I reached up and hooked my axe around its neck, then pulled it violently down into the edge of my shield.

Again and again I brutalised the same wound, spraying gore everywhere as I did so, and every time I hit it, the creature sank further to its knees until finally, it slumped sideways and died.

“You have put my people through hunger and pain,” I shouted, my axe held accusingly in the direction of the storm bird I could not see. “Now, we will return the favour a hundred-fold. You and your unsightly brood will be driven from these lands, never to return.”