The Greatest Sin

I’ve met Fer a few times before the Great War began. She was easy-going and palatable, funny. There was little offensive about her. She liked little things, small gestures of kindness rather than the grandiose statements that nobility demand. It was a breath of fresh air, the Goddess of Beasthood pulled me in with the eyes of a kitten.

And then I saw what she and her warherds were capable of when I faced her in the Great War. I’ve never been one for game-hunting, but I realised why dangerous animals had to be put down.

- Excerpt from the secrets texts in the White Pantheon’s closed library. Written by Goddess Allasaria, Of Light: ‘Pride’s Mad Lioness’.

Fer bent at the ankles as the Pelican arced downwards to maintain upright posture. The rear doors of the cargo bay had opened and pilot was bringing them close to the ground. She looked back at the pack she had brought to Arcadia.

Traius stood there. Bare-chested, the minotaur reached up to her chest, and was twice as wide. He carried the heavy machine gun Mikhail had brought, the one had originally been designed to mount on vehicles, in his hands. A belt extended from the machination in his grip to his backpack. He stood there and smiled, the maw of his bull’s head twisting into a terrifying sneer as the beastman tried to express a human emotion on it. On the top of his head, his horns burst out and twisted into a crown like deer wore.

Logar was next to him, holding onto a steel beam as the plane turned. The wolf-man scowled as he looked out past the plane and into the purple sky above Olympiada. He carried a rifle in his hands, a sword on his belt, a bayonet stabbed onto the end the gun. Behind them were sixty more beastmen. Darkfurs, minotaurs, wolfmen, the largest and fiercest that Fer had in her herd. Anassa was going to get a royal procession when she was freed.

Fer gave them a nod. She got one in return as she looked down at her armour. Heavy leather, still manoeuvrable though. That speed was more important against mages than whatever protection the clothes would give. Six of Kavaa’s blood vials were strapped to her belt. She had estimated three, but then she remembered when Kassie had told her off once that she always underestimated. That was the general rule Kassie gave her, estimate, then double.

“We’re above target in thirty seconds! Prepare to jump!” The pilot’s voice came over the microphone. Fer looked at her men as eyes started to glow red. They smelled blood now, she did too. They could all feel the bloodlust in their veins.

“Today, we taste magician’s blood!” Fer shouted. “Hunt fast! Hunt quick!” She raised her arm and turned as the plane’s cargo hold roared. Raptor One made its pass in the distance. Twenty beastmen, same composition as here, wolfmen, darkfurs and minotaurs rushed out of the plane’s door. They fell, armed with gun and flamethrower, snarling and falling through the air, and then deployed their parachutes. Those had been painted dark blue as Fer had wished.

Raptor Two made a similar drop further to the east. “Ten seconds to jump!” The pilot’s voice cut through the roars and the beasts settled down. “Nine! Eight!” He readjusted the plane. “Five! Four! Three!”

“Two!” Fer took a step. Her nails changed into claws. Her skin hardened to leather. Her fur grew thick and matted. Her teeth expanded into the huge canines of lions. Her eyesight sharpened, the evening became as clear as day.

“One!” Fer took another step, one foot off the air as she looked down. People were down there. Mages, students and teachers. All of them had stopped to look at the plane. Fer smelled their blood, their fear, their suspicions and confusions. She bathed in those emotions.

“JUMP!” The plane angled sharply up and Fer twisted as she jumped out. The others would have parachutes, but she was a Goddess. Not just any Goddess either, the Goddess of Beasthood. The Scourge of the Steppe. Manhunter. Civilization’s antithesis.

The Goddess of Beasthood tumbled through the air as time seemed to slow down for her. Here it was. Playing about in the forest was fun, helping Little Kassie was lovely, giving Kavaa her gift had been heart-warming but it did nothing for the monster she kept on a leash. Arascus had been the first one who had given that monster a master. A master, and a target to be pointed.

Today, that target was Arcadia.

Fer twisted in the air and landed in a cloud of dust as the little magicians started to move away. She smelled them through the dust, their confusions and fears as to what was happening. She found the closest target. Two mages still on the grass. Fer leapt forwards as the beastmen roared from above. She heard cloth tear and wind catch, parachutes deployed. Now she only needed to give her pack a landing zone.

The two on the grass fell. Fer’s hand tore through one, the other, some boy-mage in pale clothes, was launched forwards. He was dead before his body cascaded and snapped on a tree. Fer turned like lightning. Two down. Thirty-one still here.

She launched again. An adult mage this time. He didn’t have a chance to even raise his hands. Fer’s arm pierced through his chest. Before his body hit the ground, Fer had moved onto the next group. Six mages in a circle who had been enjoying some picnic. Her jaw closed around one, her arms got two each, her tail snapped the last one’s neck.

And finally the mages realised what was going on. The screams began, Fer’s ears dulled them out. Screams meant panic, but mages had been made of sterner stuff than that. Fer found it. “What is that?”

“Draw wands.” From the other side of the field. Three older boys. Her eyes narrowed on them, she got down on all fours and launched herself like a cannonball at them. They didn’t manage to utter even a single word. One of the boys had managed to put hands on his wand before his lifeless corpse fell to the ground.

More screams, more people running. There was an explosion from the east. The Floromancer’s dorms was lit up as a tongue of flame coated it in fire. Fer had no reaction as her eyes readjusted to the next threat, this was no time to marvel at Mikhail’s creations. Gunfire began. Quick explosions as her forces started to cause chaos.

Fer found her next target. Three fleeing people, running away from the gardens. She launched again. An older mage tried to block her this time. An old man slammed his staff against the ground and a thin wall of rock rose up to meet Fer.

Not good enough to stop sorcerers. Not good enough to stop Kassandora. Not good enough to be considered a wizard by Great War standards. Nowhere near good enough to stop Fer.

The Goddess of Beasthood slammed her first into that wall and it shattered as she roared and kept tumbling towards the three running away. The spray of rock hit them, one fell to the ground. Fer’s slam across her back, the cracking of bone and the final gasp of air ensured she would not be standing up. The two others fell and Fer turned on the mage.

Five rocks hovered in the air around him. “Curse-“ He tried to say something. Fer never understood that about humans. Why talk in battle? What was the point? You killed or you were killed. Those rocks fell harmlessly to the ground as Fer closed the distance in a second and pulled her claw out of the man’s chest.

She turned back to scan the area. Ten more souls were still fleeing. Logar and Traius were still a hundred metres above the ground, roaring and snarling as they fell slowly in their parachutes. Fer made a circle around the field. By the time her pack members touched the grass, Fer was the only moving person still moving. She licked the blood of her claws.

Magician’s blood entered her veins. Meagre, mortal magician’s blood, but blood none the less. Her senses sharpened, her fur grew even thicker, her eyesight got sharper, her hearing clearer. She heard the screams and sounds of battle coming from the south. More fires had started, more screams. Shouts though too, the mages were beginning to organize, staff members of Arcadia were forming response teams to the unprecedented situation.

They didn’t have long before the millions of magicians that made Arcadia their home started to come down upon them. “Ove-“ Fer’s voice was interrupted as an alarm started to blare. Then another. “OVER THERE!” Fer shouted over the incessant alarms as she pointed to the slate building that was the Divine Library. Like an ugly hedgehog of black stones that had given up and lay flat on its stomach.

The warherd followed Packmaster’s command.

They set off with all the speed of a pack in hunt. Hoof and boot tore up the grass as they smashed through a fence. There was a team of mages here, not organized, aware of the crisis but unaware of the details. Fer didn’t kill these, there was no need. Traius took a heavy step forward as his hooves dug into the ground. A darkfur aimed its blackwood staff forwards. Logar brought the gun up to his eye. A dozen other beastmen aimed their rifles.

One of the mages raised a wand and Fer’s pack opened fire. Fer fell to floor as she smelled more approaching from the west. Other wolfmen smelled them too. She was fast, but bullets were faster. The trio that turned the corner fell before she could even jump. Fer got back up and pushed the thoughts away. Those could be told to Kassie later, Mikhail had done his job with his guns. A trigger was much faster to pull than it was to chant a spell.

They crossed through a forest and left three corpses. They crossed another street. This time the mages had their spells ready. A rock hit one of the minotaurs in the chest and the huge bull-man shrugged it off. These mages died to gunfire as well. A pyromancer tried to set them alight. Fer narrowed her eyes at the magic, fire had always been one of the greatest enemies to her pack. Fire devoured and fire left not even bones.

But this wasn’t the fire of the Great War. This wasn’t the pillars of flame that sprouted under feet, nor the sky being set alight. No walls of flame, no skin setting alight nor any boiling blood. This was a simple ball of fire. A child’s spell for making little animals of fire. This wasn’t a combat spell.

A darkfur waved his staff and muttered a bestial growl. The ball of flame was wrapped in a cloak of red and then disappeared. Fer smelled the goat-man’s reaction. He was as confused as Fer was. These were mages? Logar lifted his rifle and put five shots into them. Other pack members joined in with the gunfire. They fell before Fer could even react.

The warherd covered the last patch of trees quickly. Their hooves tore through bush and they smashed through flimsy fence and circled around trees. “Set up perimeter!” Fer shouted as they came to a stop. The Divine Library loomed over them, Anassa’s prison. It was fitting for her sister to have such a large building all to herself. She stepped to the door and gave one final look to her beastmen.

Traius had planted himself next to the wall. Machine gun aimed down the path. Two of the minotaurs armed with flame throwers had set fire to the forest to block it as an attack path. Logar took position behind a bush. The darkfurs started to pull vines out of the ground to create blockades, and then they rolled clouds of poison that turned the grass brown into the fields around them.

Fer had thought they would be attacking the mages of the Great War. She smiled to herself, not anymore, against mere apprentices, she may have some forces still standing by the time she came back out with dreaded Anassa.

“Oh sister sister!” Fer shouted up at the building. “Knock knock, ready or not, I’m coming in!” Fer lifted her leg and kicked the heavy wooden doors of the Divine Library down.