Umira Dalimor, ex-noble mage and currently hired help for the Barb’s crew, had spent the past few days in severe distress. For a Lady like herself, normal distress was to be expected; she’d lost her home, her family, her everything. The only thing she had left was her sibling.
But now she’d also lost Liam Carter.
At first, she’d thought he’d been reassigned to something else, but after the second day without hearing from him, she’d begun to ask around. There had been no answers; it was as if the man had just vanished into thin air.
“He was a stranger,” Noor growled out in Rethian, using their personal shared language to guarantee some privacy in this very cramped place that was the Barb.
Umira briefly considered slapping him with her tail. There were many reasons not to use her tail to slap her older sibling. First among them was that he was the prime heir of their lineage, at least as far as other Draxani would be concerned. But the list of reasons was far shorter than it would’ve been a mere year ago.
“He saved your life.”
“Certainly, it was he, and not you, who burst through my cell’s door,” Noor blinked his nictitating membrane sarcastically. “Also, he, not you, who conveniently made enemies out of the Church of the Weaver.” His tail flicked in annoyance. “Is it truly odd that he found a way to leave? He made a deal with a demon; they would’ve surely cashed in that debt.”
“A debt made to save all of us, and not just himself.”
Noor didn’t answer.
“We owe him at least an effort,” Umira pressed on.
Her older sibling shifted, glancing at the door of his shared personal quarters. “I… agree the human has done us a favor,” his eyes narrowed. “But I will not let you put yourself at risk for this. It is larger than you or I, and we cannot act safely.”
Umira’s eyes widened at the claim, hastily confirming they were alone. “You know something.”
“I know what happened, and I am fortunate none others know this.” Noor shook his head. “It is a matter we cannot handle.” His tail flicked once, then twice. “Just keep an eye out for possible avenues of escape. That is all I can tell you, sister.”
“But-!”
“No.” He slapped the bed, glaring openly. “To speak of something is to call it forth, and we are but sand in the storm, mere supplicants to the wind.”
It was a saying their father used frequently, a warning about how when Gods made moves, mortals could only pray to be on the winning side. But it held a second meaning, that one should avoid the gaze of the divine. Was a divinity watching over the Barb? Had it been responsible for Liam’s disappearance? If so, when would they risk becoming the storm’s target if they made any move to find him?
Or was there something else he’d found out but was not meant to share?
“Do you know what the word ‘Gravuhtee’ means?” Noor spoke carefully.
“Gravuhtee.” Umira frowned, tasting the word. It was a term that sounded awfully like Liam’s original inscrutable language. “Is it…?”
“He claimed the monster we’re about to fight controls ‘Gravuhtee’, that it crushes mountains.” Noor lay down, curling into himself as he turned his back on her. “Unless those words mean something to you, then push the human out of your mind. We cannot afford to go into the next fight distracted.”
“How do you know these things?”
“I do not trust the human, which is why I watched him closely.” His tail flicked three times in quick succession; it was a secret signal. It meant that they couldn’t trust their host.
Umira stared at her older sibling as he pretended to attempt to sleep. “I trust your judgment on this, brother,” she declared after a few minutes of silence. “But do not think this is over.”
“Be patient, sister, that is all I can ask of you,” he whispered in return. “We must weather the storm.”
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The situation was simple enough to understand.
There was an animal that was about to become a meal. This creature was a herbivore (or at least that was his guess, seeing how the creature had been munching on leaves), and there were about a dozen of these creatures. They lacked a pack mentality but had a habit of gathering in small groups that would scatter at the first sign of danger. Liam considered this creature to be about as dangerous as a medium-sized dog.
The problem was that a medium-sized dog was going to outrun Liam 11 out of every 10 attempts, and out-fight him at least half the time. The knife considerably improved the odds in the latter category, but not so much in the “running” one.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
The animal in question was a semi-flightless bird the size of a housecat, with feathers that shimmered, reflecting and refracting sunlight from above, making it almost look like water if you were far away enough. The animal was a great glider and a decent enough hopper, moving from branch to branch with surprising ease. But the bird also had razor-sharp talons that allowed it to find grip even on vertical surfaces (so long as it was tree bark), and Liam was absolutely certain that it would gut him like a fish if it got in a good hit.
Lacking any sort of protective gear, and lacking crossbows, he chose to take some caution. Which was surprising, given his current track record of running around and pushing himself like he only had a day left to live.
Perched a few branches above and away from the birds, he carefully watched the flock preening one another. Their feathers' reflective properties left him wondering what their purpose was; he could hardly imagine their reflectiveness was something to dissuade predators… at least unless it somehow marked them as poisonous to consume. He really hoped that wasn’t the case, as his energy reserves weren’t going to last him much, and just coming up here had taken hours.
He pulled out the rope, splitting it with a command, and then wrapping one of the two ends around his left hand. Liam made extra sure that there were no knots while doing so, otherwise, an accidental activation could result in the rope shrinking down and turning his hand to mulch. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need the rope circlet, but better safe than sorry.
Liam very slowly made his way closer to the flock, mentally categorizing which branches were thick enough to hold his weight and which were best avoided. It was easy to spot more than a few areas that were entirely outside his reach, thus places he’d want to keep the flock from moving to.
Or… no, he dismissed the thought of pursuit. If he were fast enough, then he would’ve been able to consider the prospect of splitting the flock to single out a target. So he kept moving forward, inching closer from above, holding the rope like a whip in one hand and the knife in the other.
When he was nearly entirely above the birds, just a few careful hops away from having a proper “drop” on them, an odd feeling washed over him.
Danger.
He froze, eyes wide and trying to take in his surroundings. Any sign of movement, of something that was out of place. All around him, the jungle swayed and rustled, a thousand and one noises, mixed with the careless chirps of the flock.
The careless, loud chirps of the very visible flock. One of the birds had looked up at him and, without a care in the world, returned to preening its feathery brethren.
It was only then that Liam noticed the shimmer-birds were positioned on a conglomeration of branches that could definitely hold his weight and then some. Not somewhere they could easily ensure no larger predators could reach.
There was a creaking sound over Liam, a shift in weight that was just barely out of tune with the jungle.
He jumped.
Something sharp and heavy landed on the spot he’d occupied, a shimmer-bird the size of a horse, with its feathers shifting from an intensely green to blinding silver. Camouflage. The avian fought to release the knife-feet from the wood, and Liam sprung straight towards the flock of what he now realized were its young.
The smaller shimmer-birds bolted in every direction, and with Liam landing on the area they’d once occupied, he hastily took the loose tip of the rope and tied it into a knot around a stick. “Come on…” He kept his eyes on his surroundings, in case big-momma had a partner.
When the giant bird loosened its talons from the wood, Liam was ready, breaking into a full sprint towards the tree trunk, where his footing would be more stable. He would've liked to claim he'd kept his speed measured so that the bird would remain tempted to give chase, but the truth was that he was not fast enough to get away.
With a screech, the creature leapt at him like some abomination that was halfway between a raptor, a blender, and a chicken. Each of its talons was hardened and black, the blades it had for feet equal parts awe-inspiring and terrifying.
Ducking behind the tree trunk, Liam tried to formulate some alternate plan, any plan, to get out of there in one piece. Getting down was the easiest way of escape, but they could only go so low before the network of branches would stop and all they’d get would be a nice deadly drop.
The murder-chicken screeched, and Liam stumbled his way through branches, looking for options. Branches thick enough to hold their weight, but with barely enough space between them to make the big bird have trouble getting through.
All he got was an end to the branch he was using as a bridge and a lot of feeble areas up ahead. Liam flung the knotted stick upward, activating the circlet the instant it had crested over the branch, and getting yanked towards it. The human hastily reactivated the split before the rope could start tightening, and just in time to watch the shimmer-bird emerge underneath.
The creature stopped, looking down and around in search for any signs of him.
It shouldn’t have wasted the effort, because now that the circlet had stopped trying to close in on itself, Liam dropped right on the avian’s back. One hand stabbed the knife into its flesh, the other threw the knotted stick, watching the rope fly off, grow taut, and the stick swing from the left side of the bird’s neck, down underneath, and to its right.
Liam reactivated the rope, letting himself get flung off by the screeching bird.
It was too late for it anyway.
The rope circlet had closed, the knot on the stick meant it now had to shrink down. And shrink it did; the shimmer-bird had barely the time to turn to look at him before the divine artifact had tightened its windpipe shut. Anger towards Liam was replaced by panic and confusion, the creature flapped its wings and kicked at its own neck, trying to remove the item obstructing its airflow.
But it only got a handful of seconds to try before its eyes began to bulge outwards, the enchanted rope now properly digging into the flesh, rending through it.
With a squelching wet sound and a spray of blood, its head popped off. The creature stumbled, falling over the edge and down, its head following through though in a slightly different direction.
“I knew this was coming, but to watch it unfold was far more amusing than I’d imagined,” the black hawk that was really Maridah materialized on a slightly higher branch.
“I’d call my hunt a success,” Liam was grinning, trying to stop the shaking from all the adrenaline. "Also those birds are terrifying."
"Thank you." She preened a little. “I’d agree if you get to the corpse before anything else does,” she cocked her head slightly, her tone full of amusement. “Also, how do you plan to recover the circlet?”
He swore and began to hastily make his way down.