Fowlhunter [GL]

The sounds of the alarms could be heard in the distance, but in the heart of the amethyne mining level, all was eerily silent.

Darting from shadow to shadow was a single rose-haired angel. Ennanis Zoleil soared from end to end of the Agni’s viewing chamber, verifying the strength of the grates, and making extra sure there was no one else left on the level.

The Soleki released from the grates had been much less than from the ones in the storage room during their experiment. Indeed, the grates had already been weakening at an incredible rate. The thing residing within the lava chamber… was something far more destructive than fire. The Kraken.

Ennanis’ hands twisted at the clasp of her gold armbrace. With how weak the grates were, surely, she would not have to resort to that… but there was still a what-if. She flew back and forth, but even she knew that she was just trying to distract herself from what she was about to do. That, and killing time. It had been what felt like ages since Pelia’s announcement, and she still hadn’t gotten the signal from Asha that everyone had been evacuated.

She peered into one of the tunnels for the billionth time. Again, there was nothing there, just a metal platform used normally for repair work.

…Or was there?

In the darkness, something moved.

Ennanis looked to it. She could not help it; she could do nothing else.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The heels of tall, obsidian boots clicked against the platform.

Snake-scaled armour, glinting in the numb red glow of the lava. The train of a long, ruffled dress followed behind. And above it, a bustle of arcing red and green feathers.

With slow steps, a black-masked woman walked out from the shadows, feathers rustling.

Ennanis’ gaze never broke. Her eyes zeroed in the woman’s chin; rather, on the line of ghost-white skin that lay between it and her cloved breastplate, rising and falling with her breaths. The vestiges of bruises, fading and fresh both, were always present across the little skin she bared. But where an arrowhead had once protruded between her collarbones, there was no wound. No scar.

It was like seeing a blank space in the middle of a sentence. Like all that had happened that night had just been a bad dream. Some misremembered memory.

“Are you real?” Ennanis blurted.

The Cockatrice cocked her head. “Is that any way to greet someone? After I came all this way just for you.”

“...Emperor Prometheus said you were dead,” Ennanis said.

“And what do you say?” the Cockatrice asked in return.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know,” she admitted. Ever since that night, that battle, Ennanis barely knew what was real and what wasn’t, anymore.

“Poor thing,” the Cockatrice gloated. She didn’t move any closer. Even as they spoke, they stood an uncomfortable distance away from each other on the scaffold platform, simply looking at each other. Lava bubbled and popped, the boiling heart of a slumbering monster just a breath’s away. Sirens screeched even further from them. The Beast’s eyes were unreadable, but below the mask her lips were stretched out, thin as if in a smile, but not quite there.

“Why are you here?” Ennanis asked.

“The Beasts will come soon to put out the volcano. I remind you of your promise,” the Cockatrice’s voice was low, almost ragged. “Do not hurt the Beasts.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean it,” the Cockatrice emphasised. “I do not want a repeat of what I heard at the palace lake.”

“No such promise had been made back then.”

“It is basic honour, after someone has helped you, to not use that opportunity to stab them in the back.”

Ennanis stared back at her. “Is that so.”

“......” The Cockatrice lowered her beak. “...Yes.”

“Don’t worry,” the angel commander said. “This time, I will honour the promise. Tell me something, though. Why did you agree to help?”

“Someone asked me to,” she said. “Did Jemi tell you nothing?”

“Why did you agree to her, then?”

The Cockatrice shrugged. “No reason.”

“You wouldn’t have done all this for no reason,” Ennanis said. “Could it be that you wish to change your ways?”

The Cockatrice’s gaze hardened.

“I've told you before,” she said acidly. When she said ‘before’, she was referring to a time long ago—before the Battle of Fifth peak, before the last time they’d seen each other six months ago—and Ennanis understood this. “I will do whatever it takes to protect the Beasts. Nothing else matters to me. I am only helping in this case because there may be other Beasts in the vicinity that will be affected by the eruption.”

“And it’s to hell with everyone else? Angels, humans? You were human once, too. It’s okay if they get hurt?”

“I can’t defend everyone,” the Cockatrice replied, gazing out into the dancing embers. “I can’t protect everyone, Zoleil. Heaven knows I’ve tried. Now, I just want to protect the few that matter to me. Can’t you see?”

Abruptly, Ennanis was reminded of Capri’s words. That humans would raze whole kingdoms to the ground to save just their family.

Whatever she was now, the Cockatrice had been human once.

“I could never do such a thing,” Ennanis said. “How could anyone? No matter how important someone could be to you, how could you exchange thousands of others, who are important to more others, for the few that managed to cross your path favorably? How do you sleep at night knowing that?”

“Quite simply. I don’t,” she said wryly. “Neither of us do.”

“...How do you live with yourself, then. Making such a decision,” Ennanis amended. “When all there is in exchange for peace is a few necessary sacrifices?”

The Cockatrice whipped her head towards her. In the next second, Ennanis dodged as a white-hot current of moonlight slammed into the platform behind her.

The princess’ gaze was hard, all the viciousness of a surging river, silver sparkles dancing in the air around her.

“Necessary?” she growled. “One day, Ennanis. One day, you’re going to lose someone you’re not willing to give up.”

“I already have,” replied the angel. A lengthy pause. “But I’m not like you.”

“Of course you're not. God, I hope not,” the Cockatrice dragged a hand over her own face. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

Ennanis regarded her.

“It is late,” the angel said eventually. “We should get started.”

Dropping her hand, the masked woman nodded. She turned away, and began to retreat.

“But first.”

She stilled. When the Cockatrice looked back over her shoulder, her eyes widened.

Ennanis Zoleil was holding out her hand to her. A fiery beam of Sokei was concentrated within her palm, fine whispery threads of light floating off it. A Soleki communication charm.

“It will make things easier,” Ennanis offered. “We are allies now, after all.”

The Cockatrice breathed slowly. For a long moment, nothing happened. But then, slowly, the light within Ennanis’ palm diminished as the Beast allowed it to pierce her mental walls, seep into her consciousness. When it was done, an invisible cord settled between them, and each could hear the other’s breaths, could almost taste the beats of each other’s hearts.

Just like the very first time.

“Allies,” echoed the Cockatrice, over this unsilence. “Fancy that.”

Fancy that, indeed—the Graveyard Commander and the Princess of Beasts, joining forces.

Just then, a new announcement reverberated through the cavern:

“Disregard the previous announcement. It was made by an intruder…”

Alarmed, Ennanis lifted on her wings. “Pelia,” she said. “We have to help her.”

The Cockatrice shook her head. “No need.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been dealt with,” the woman donned a venomous smile. “She has the solution. Although she didn’t like it very much when she heard it.”

~~~

Pelia—no longer Pelia, daughter of Vesuvio, but rather something else, maybe Pelia, the Girl—never stopped struggling in the guards’ grip. She fought and wriggled and wrenched, spewing spittle and profanities in their unblinking faces.

The man named Vesuvio sat in the chair across from her. He didn’t stop her. He merely observed her tantrum with steepled hands, the blinking lights of the console swimming across his red-cropped scalp. The surveillance footage showed people evacuating from the upper levels. However, on the amethyne mining level, the footage remained fuzzed out. It was anyone’s guess what was happening there.

“Screw you!” Pelia continued to scream at the guards. “You’re all insufferable! And you, you’re a douchebag! Piece of ass!”

“Anything else you want to say?” he said calmly.

“You!” Pelia whirled on Vesuvio. “Are you out of your Medusa-damned mind? If you kill the dust, then who’s going to mine amethyne for you?”

“I’ll just find more,” Vesuvio answered without an ounce of shame. “The current batch is clearly rotten beyond salvation. After all, when you remove weeds from a compound, you have to pull out the roots too. And burn it to the ground, so that it never regrows.”

The Kraken isn’t the real monster in these mines. You are.

At that thought, looking up into her father’s black eyes, Pelia suddenly remembered. The Kraken…

She remembered it because that annoying woman, ‘Lady Rijina’ had mentioned it to her. Right before the plan had been set in motion, the blonde had pulled her aside and said:

“I have something important to tell you before you go.”

“Yeah?...” Pelia had said uncertainly.

“Your father did not love your mother,” she’d stated. “And your father does not love you.”

And okay, it wasn’t like Pelia didn’t know that, but honestly, what kind of sane person told that to another person? And told that to Pelia Vesuvio, no less? Pelia had punched her in the shoulder. Hard enough to leave a bruise. But, still smiling, Jemi had rubbed her shoulder and continued:

“Get mad all you want, but you know it. What your father’s one true love is…”

Oh, how she hated to prove that woman right. But it was her only option left.

“I have something to admit, fa-…” Pelia bowed her head. “...Sir.”

She took a deep breath. “It was the Agni!”

This made him stop smiling; Vesuvio’s eyes fell wide as he glanced back at her. The guards glanced between themselves, uneasy.

“The Agni,” she continued. “They came to me in a dream.”

The man stilled. “I thought you didn’t believe in the Agni.”

Pelia inhaled.

Nothing she did today would not redeem her. She had done far too many despicable things to the one person she still cherished, to earn any rightful forgiveness. Still, right now, people needed her. The angel commander, her goldhaired nuisance, and the children in the dust. Capri’s younger brother, among them. If she could save even one person it would be enough.

Swallowing her pride, she fell to her knees. Caught by surprise, the guards let her fall.

“I didn’t believe in them before, but now I do!” she cried. “They called to me. The Agni told me, that they were angry at being trapped. They were angry that we had been treating their dearest worshippers like so. They told me that, if I didn’t release them, and let the dust go, our bloodline would be cursed for thousands of years to come.” She pressed her hands into her face and sobbed. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Oh,” Vesuvio breathed. His expression had completely changed. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“I was scared you wouldn’t believe me,” Pelia sniffled.

Such a trick might not have worked on any other man. However, this was Ahi Vesuvio, who had toyed with nature and gods far too many times. It had made him very anxious, constantly on edge. And to hear such words coming from the girl that was—no matter what he’d declared—his flesh-and-blood, and a girl who had always been dismissive of the Agni but was now suddenly converted… it terrified him. That it could be real.

Vesuvio picked up the intercom once more.