Fowlhunter [GL]

The remainder of the Graveyard Division trudged down the slopes. The elimination process repeated for the third and second peak. The number of greybelts marching down the mountain dwindled. Eventually, they reached the first peak with about a third of the division left. The air had warmed considerably, the vegetation lusher, the ground half-earth. But you couldn’t tell from how ashen everyone’s faces looked.

The Brigadier who had been in charge all along swept in front of them. His wings rustled behind him, but he did not fly. Carefully conserving Soleki. Still, raising his hand, he hooked them up to his communication charm. This time, Ennanis accepted it, warm tingle in the back of her mind.

The Brigadier introduced himself as Brigadier Rodwyn. He had been surviving for about a year now. He began to give them directions, both aloud and through the charm.

“Scouts have sighted many Beasts in the nearby area in the past few days,” Rodwyn said. “Attacks do not happen every night, but tonight it is extremely likely. Be on your guard. If the air gets suddenly cold—you will know that a Beast is near. The stronger the cold aura, the stronger the Beast’s Lunaki tends to be. If you encounter a particularly strong one, try to team up against it. Save on Soleki, yes, but do not hesitate to use it if you are in danger. Report any Beast sightings to me via the charm link. And if you hear a rooster crowing… report it immediately. It means that we’re all dead, but we’ll try to make that happen later rather than sooner.”

A shiver rippled through the crowd. The cadet standing next to Ennanis looked like he wanted to hurl himself off the edge.

“For those new,” said Rodwyn, “the Cockatrice is the Princess, the leader of these Beasts. Her special power is the Death-darting Eye, which turns anyone to solid stone on eye contact. Mirrors and reflections will not help you. As long as even the corner of your eye catches a hint of the silver light, you’re a goner.” He paused. “The only virtue is that she only ever uses this power once per night. She and her Beasts will attempt to corral as many angels into a corner so she can get as many as she can in one go, so spread yourselves out. …Good luck.”

The briefing was not comforting in the slightest, but it was perfectly blunt about what they would be facing. There was no illusion that any of them were likely to make it to the next day. After that sombre farewell, the greybelts of the first peak began to spread themselves out all around the mountainface.

Brigadier Rodwyn, when he saw Ennanis trailing behind the line of cadets, made his way over to her instantly.

“Commander Zoleil,” he greeted as they walked around the mountain.

“Just Ennanis is fine,” Ennanis said. “Ranks don’t really mean anything here, do they.”

“But they do,” Rodwyn said. His eyes narrowed. “Commander Zoleil, I know that it’s your first night here, but you have to step up too, and soon. You must take charge. I can see that they already listen to you.”

“Who?”

“Who else? The greybelts,” said the brigadier. “Maybe it’s because you’re Amanita Zoleil’s disciple, or maybe because you’ve spoken to them personally before. But you have to take the lead. Especially, should anything happen to me.”

Ennanis squeezed her eyes shut.

“Commander?...” Rodwyn prompted.

“I…” the angel commander exhaled. What was she supposed to tell him? That if the greybelts knew the truth of what she had done, they would never listen to her in a thousand years?

“...I don’t know if I’ll do anything of help,” she finished lamely.

Brigadier Rodwyn looked at her. He very nearly scoffed. “Of course you will. You’re the Golden Rose, and all that, right? Get over yourself, and fast. Use all that talent you have for something.” He prodded the shortsword at Ennanis’ belt. “Run a hundred Beasts through with that weapon tonight, soldier, and try not to die on me. Remember, this isn’t about you. I, and every angel here tonight, need your support.”

Ennanis’ slit-gold eyes were faraway. She turned to face the night sky, glimmering full of stars.

“Are you listening to me?”

“...Do you hear that?” Ennanis murmured.

“What’d you say?” Rodwyn’s brow creased.

“Gotta go,” the pink-haired angel knelt down to the rock. Spreading her wings, she dove off the cliff into the howling winds, gold-clasped ponytail a flicking wick after her disappearing figure.

Brigadier Rodwyn stared after her. He dragged a hand over his face.

“This is going to be hell of a night…”

~~~

Down below in the foothills of Mount Casca, someone was perched atop a spire of rock.

It took the shape of a human woman.

But we know better now, of course.

The Cockatrice had a hand slipped below her chin as she perched on the rock, head positioned as if staring out into the darkness. Said hands were gloved up to the elbows in smooth belladonna. She was clothed in a midnight-dark ballgown, with a gauzy train in the back. Her top half was hugged in a reptilian-green breastplate, though the armour’s supposed protectiveness was diminished by the fact that her neck and shoulders were bared to the starlight in sultry fashion. Most ridiculously, a bushel of arcing feathers, alternating crimson and sage, rose from the bustle. The design was obviously based on the mythological creature cockatrice: a chimera of a rooster and snake, with the power to freeze beings into stone with its eyes.

“Ennanis,” the Cockatrice turned to face her, when the angel approached her from behind. It was clear that she had been aware of her arrival for quite some time now. “You came.”

“You called,” Ennanis said. She landed below the jut of rock, staring up at the Beast. The woman stared back down at her, but her eyes were covered from view by a corvid-black, long-nosed mask, the proud red plume of a cockerel sticking up from the middle. Her whitish tresses draped around the feathered edges of the mask, like if blonde hair had been soaked in moonlight, rinsed of colour.

“Wasn’t calling for you, but I guess I expected to bump into you at some point,” the Cockatrice mused. Her grin widened when she spotted the angel’s slit-gold gaze roaming over her figure. “How are we finding the new look?” She swept her flaxen locks over pale shoulders and arched back, kicking up her knee-high boots on the boulder, as if striking a pose.

“It’s unsightly,” the angel answered.

“Haha! Good one,” the Cockatrice crowed, delighted. “You're real charming, lady. Better look away while you still can.”

“I’d rather not,” Ennanis Zoleil returned. “It would make it that much more difficult to kill you.”

Then, like a leaping spark in a circuit, the angel flashed up the incline of rock, crossing the gap of air that separated them in less than a millisecond. The blade of her shortsword blazed alight with Soleki. A risky move, to be using something as draining as weapon enhancement under such limited circumstances, but Ennanis didn’t seem to care. Slit-gold eyes were hard with determination as she stabbed for the Cockatrice’s ribs.

Only, before she could make contact, the woman rolled out of the way. For someone wearing such impractical-looking battlewear, she was unbelievably agile, her skirts swiping through the air like shadows. Tingling Lunaki bathed her skin like moonlight, and Ennanis, staring at her glowing body, guessed that it was something similar to Soleki enhancement.

In another flash, the Cockatrice was right in front of Ennanis, leering in her face. Dark eyes beamed at her through the crescent eyeholes of her mask.

“Thought I was still that weak girl in a cell? Curled up on the floor, begging for treats like a mutt?” she gloated. She leaned in closer, scraping the side of Ennanis’ cheek with her false beak. “I’ll have you know that every person, angel or human, who has tried to kill me, died trying. I’ll show you what I’m truly made of, Angel!”

The Cockatrice slashed at Ennanis. Pure reflex alone saved the angel, who flipped backwards, wings flared out to stablise her as she skidded into the dirt. She glanced up.

The Cockatrice was holding no visible weapon, but instead brandished a handful of silver-glowing claws, extending like nasty hooks from the tips of her gloved fingers.

The Beast sprang after her, claws blazing. Ennanis thrust her sword between them in time just in time to drive her off, but the other was incredibly fast, her claws dashing out from every direction—almost like she was flooding the air itself with silver knives, leaving no room for breath. Ennanis was so busy dodging for her life she could not get a single attack in. With her knees aching from the climb earlier, her body also wasn't responding as quickly as she wanted.

Eventually, putting on a burst of energy, Ennanis somersaulted backwards and launched into the air, propelling herself into the night sky on flapping wings. She watched the Cockatrice warily, but the woman didn't follow her. She merely circled the ground below, staring up at her. You couldn’t always tell with Beasts, but it seemed the Cockatrice couldn’t fly.

“You can’t stay up there forever,” taunted the Cockatrice.

The Beast was right. Flying consumed Soleki rapidly, and while the angel commander had a broader reserve, it wasn’t much. Already, Ennanis was beginning to feel a fatigue setting in akin to having flown for days, instead of just the few minutes that had passed since they’d started.

But Ennanis was not the Golden Rose, Amanita Zoleil’s apprentice, and an ex-Warden for nothing. Hovering mid-air, she twirled a bow from her back, where it had been concealed behind the wave of her rose ponytail. Same with the quiver, from which she whisked an arrow and pulled it in the line of her single open eye. With a snap, the projectile soared for the woman—then another, and another and another, snapsnapsnap, each one deadly precise and faster than the last. Ennanis zipped through the sky, using her aerial advantage to launch arrows from the woman’s blind spots. Now it was the Cockatrice’s turn to do a mad dance through the hailstorm of arrows. The angel knew she couldn’t stay up there for long—so she was determined to take down the Beast in half the time.

Growling, the Cockatrice darted for the cover of the nearby trees. Undeterred, Ennanis flew in pursuit.

As the angel closed in, the Cockatrice slapped both hands on either side of a pine. Her hands began to glow silver again. The bark she held glowed with them, and she pressed her hands towards each other. Between her palms, the trunk folded itself, like she was squashing a chocolate cake from both sides. In seconds, her hands were all the way through, leaving the tree separated from its base.

Jumping into the air, the Cockatrice swung her leg out and rammed her boot into the tree. The newly-separated log flew straight in the path of the pursuing airborne angel. In a mighty thundering of leaves, the tree crashed into the mountainside, leaving the skies clear once more.

Chuckling to herself, the Cockatrice dusted off her gloves and walked out from the forest. With clacking heels, she scaled the wreckage, climbing up the incline of the trunk until she reached the crown of foliage. Through the holes of her birdmask, she peered down at her handiwork with a satisfied smirk.

“Not looking so sunny now, are you?” she mocked. “Well, it was good knowing you-”

“RAAAAAAH!”

Hollering, a figure barrelled out from the leaves, swinging a fist at her face.

“Whoaaaaa—” Caught off guard, the Cockatrice took the punch square in the jaw. “Oof!-” The woman flew back a couple of metres and smashed into a bough of branches. This was the first hit that either of them had landed since the start of their fight.

Ennanis spat out a mouthful of leaves. The clasp of her ponytail had been ripped away, snagged somewhere in the branches. Now her hair blew loose and wild, a fall of pink raked through with bramble and clods of earth. One hand gripped her shortsword, which she had used to slash through the foliage. Lunging, the angel ran after her.

“Why are you not dead yet?” the Cockatrice yelled.

“Why are you not dead yet??!” Ennanis yelled back. She stabbed her sword at the Cockatrice, who dodged. Reaching up, the Beast ripped a low-hanging branch off a tree and used it to block the heavy slashes of the weapon. Ennanis pressed on, driving the Cockatrice further back into the forest, cornering her into the foot of a steep hill. But before she could deal the final blow, the Cockatrice thrust out the branch just right, catching the blade within the bark rind. Twisting the branch, she wrenched the shortsword out of Ennanis’ grasp and tossed the branch aside, sending it and the angel’s weapon both spinning into the underbrush.

The Cockatrice surged forward with a savage left hook, smacking Ennanis aside. As the angel doubled back, the Beast bent silver-glowing knees and shot up into the canopy in an enhanced jump. She landed on a fork of branches and caught her breath. Through the thick leaves, she peeked at Ennanis down below, but while the angel commander flexed her wings, she didn’t fly after her. It seemed that she had finally run out of the Soleki she could afford to expend for the night.

But the angel wasn’t ready to give up. Slit-gold eyes scanned the canopy. The Cockatrice pressed herself still against the tree trunk, concealing herself within the shadows. For a moment she thought Ennanis would not find her—but then, something whistled in the air.

The Cockatrice jerked her head to the side.

THUNK! An arrow embedded in the bark next to her ear.

The angel’s fiery eyes were locked on her, having pierced through the Beast’s veil of Lunaki misting. Again Ennanis was out with her bow and arrow. Ennanis shot another one, and the Cockatrice hid herself behind the tree trunk again, feeling the thuds of the other arrows vibrating through the bark.

The Cockatrice held no weapons, but she was far from out of defences. A crinkling sound filled the air; constructed from silver light, an icicle of Lunaki crystallised from the air. Before she could let it loose, though, a great rustling filled the trees.

Clacking beaks, hissing tongues, whipping tails and guttural growls.

And yelling.

“Princess, we’re here!”