Had he had time to think about it, Shwaan might have spared a moment to reflect upon the irony of the situation: that he was inviting death – most likely by human hands – trying to save a human child from a renegade Aeriel whose imminent demise was one of the few highlights of this entire ordeal.
As it was, though, there was no time, and he acted almost entirely on instinct as he watched Reivaa take flight, moving towards Hiya like a flash of lightning ripping through the sky. He felt his wings manifest around him, feathers cackling with pent up energy as he shot after Reivaa, the wind lashing against his face even as his mind reeled with the ecstasy of flight, after such a long interval.
On any other day, it would have been a close match – one he might even have lost, considering what Reivaa had on him in terms of years and experience. But today was not any other day. Reivaa was injured and exhausted and inching towards death with every passing moment. She was outclassed.
He shot past Reivaa and reached Hiya in plenty of time to flip easily in the air and plant himself firmly in front of the terrified, shaking young girl. His wings flared behind him like fiery barriers, shielding her from the oncoming enemy.
Reivaa caught up with him a moment later – silver-flecked eyes half-mad with some combination of pain and blood-lust – and reached blindly past Shwaan to grab at the girl, a look of animalistic hunger on her warped face. Shwaan batted her hand away with an easy flick of the wrist, turning icy eyes towards the delirious creature before him.
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This had gone on for long enough. He had been holding back all this time to maintain the illusion of humanity, but that point was moot now. Not even the blissfully oblivious Hunter could have failed to notice the gigantic silver wings that had just sprouted on his companion’s back, or the sudden pearly whiteness of his eyes. Oh well. He reached up and slammed the side of his palm against Reivaa’s exposed neck with all the force he could muster, feeling the bones snap satisfactorily under his fingers. Sometimes, one just had to look on the bright side.
She barely even resisted, too distracted by the whimpering child behind him, as he swept her feet from under her and snapped her neck with one decisive flick. Reivaa raised her hand, grasping the air in Hiya’s general direction one last time, trying to touch that elusive prize, before collapsing in a broken heap at Shwaan’s feet.
Something gave way in the back of Shwaan’s mind, some tightly contained dam of barricaded fear he hadn’t been aware of before now, and he sighed deeply, sagging against the tree that half-hid the little girl. A muffled sob at his back drew his attention, and he turned to see Hiya biting quietly into the sleeve of her ruined shirt, face raw with tears even as her shoulders shook with aborted hiccups intermingled with great, heaving sobs.
Dropping to his knees, he reached for the girl, pulling her up off the ground and into his arms. Her little hands clutched blindly at his nearly-shredded coat as if searching for an anchor. He patted her gently on the back, trying to remember the way Maya had held him, comforted him during the attacks on the palace, in those last few days on earth. After a few seconds the sobs quieted, subsiding into the occasional hiccup, and Hiya sagged against him like an unwound clockwork doll.
At last he pushed himself to his feet, Hiya still snug in his arms as he turned back towards the clearing – to see Ruban inches from his face, the sifblade in his outstretched hand, eyes burning with a bizarre blend of terror and rage.