[Player Log Start!]
[Log Holder: Michael Kapok]
[Level: 2]
“Oh, fuck this!” Michael swore, mere seconds after the birds had vanished from view, overtaken by milky yellow clouds. He started rolling his sleeves up, ready to cast a spell, but then a hand caught his arm.
“What’re you planning?” Ben asked, and there wasn’t a single hint of discouragement in her tone. She wanted to help him, that much was clear, but she needed him to be honest and concise about his plan. Good, because he wasn’t going to let anyone talk him down from this. Verity was loud, and brash, and dangerous as all get out, but she was his friend. And he wasn’t letting some mangy birds kill her for something she didn’t even do.
Not that he would let them do that to Terry either, but it was the principle of the matter. When did Verity become such a self-sacrificial idiot? As long as he’d remembered, she had always put herself above the needs of those around her. She took care of herself, and if she was in the position to stick her neck out, then she did. But only under the reassurance that she would be fine afterwards.
Or so he thought. Now that he considered it, he had to admit that Verity gave a lot up for her friends. For Jared’s ideals. She worked tirelessly to achieve jobs that she had no interest in, and she would subsist for days on meager food and water, instead of keeping everything she found.
Verity cared. She always cared. Even if it was against her very program to do so, she went out of her way to care. And he couldn’t do her the disservice of abandoning all that history just because she had taken one fall too many.
So, of course he had a plan. It wasn’t a good plan. It was very slap-dash and involved a lot more blindly marching in guns blazing, but at this point, it was the best plan he could come up with, as his entire body screamed at him to move.
“I’m going to fly up there.” He gritted out, “And I’m going to burn their court to the ground.”
“Efficient.” Ben remarked drily, “But also counter-intuitive to the Objective of this Level.”
“Well, fuck the Level, then.” Michael replied, “I’m going to go find my friend!”
“And I’m with you.” Ben insisted, “I’m just saying, we bring Feathertooth along, and work out some sort of peace treaty. Maybe leverage your skills a bit. Use our superior knowledge about what is causing all the damn bird cancer, and get them to back off and listen.”
Huh. That was… mildly better than his guns-blazing idea. Less violent, perhaps, but more effective. Maybe the extra decade and a half she had on him taught her how to deal with the shock of having a friend be carried off by hyper intelligent murderous birds.
“Right, we’ll do that then.” He decided, turning around to kick the latch of the overground door open and marching inside, “Feathertooth, you better brace yourself, we’re taking you for a ride!”
“Oh, great.” It cawed, “They have killed the beastly one and you have abandoned all previous goals in search of revenge.”
“Not if we get there in time.” Ben replied, reaching up to unhook him from the cage, “Do you know where the Avian Judicial Enforcement Force would hold a trial?”
“Ah, so those were the ones to find you. Guess your girl has gotten lucky.” It cleaned its beak on the perch, “Lucky her. Hope she enjoys being fed to the Great Ravens Chicklings.”
“The what?”
“Execution method. Being fed to the bloodthirsty cannibalistic children of the people at the very top.” Feathertooth explained grimly. Michael’s hand tightened, knuckles shining white.
“Well, we can’t let that happen, can we?” He said evenly, “Let’s go save her. Are you with us?”
Feathertooth was silent for a few moments, before bobbing its head up and down in an exaggerated nod, “I will do my best.”
“Great!” Ben nodded, reaching over to snatch a long wooden shaft propped up in one corner of the cove, which she threw to Michael, “You know what to do with this, dude.”
“No, I really don’t.” He fumbled with the stick for a second.
Ben sighed impatiently, “Like you used Jared’s crutch back in the fledgling pit! You were unstoppable with that thing. And we need some of that juice now, thank you.”
Right, right, right… back in the fledgling pit… he swung the wooden stick around, trying to get some magical energy flowing through it or something.
Sue him, he had no idea how to work this, okay? Not like anyone had ever sat him down and explained to him the ABC’s of Sorcery.
Whatever he seemed to do, however, seemed to work, because a sheen of green suddenly overtook the wood, and a victorious chime heralded the appearance of a dialogue box.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
[You Have Gained Rudimentary Staff!]
[Enable Rudimentary Staff?]
[{x} Yes { } No]
No doubt about it, he clicked [Yes]. And it was like something changed around him. Inside him. He really did feel that magical energy he had been dithering about before.
Just as an experiment, he swiped the air in front of him with the staff. It left in its wake cyan sparks that went ricocheting across the room at immense speeds.
Ben screamed, and dodged to the side, and even with Feathertooth’s cage clutched tightly to her chest, she wasn’t able to save it from being hit by a stray spark.
“I’m sorry!” Michael squeaked, horrified at his own actions. His grip on the staff became less sure.
“Be more careful.” Ben told him sternly, righting herself as she stuck her fingers through the bars, “Are you okay, Feathertooth?”
“My wing has taken the brunt of the hit, so I am fine.” It said.
“Looks like a sprain.” Ben hummed, tilting her head to get a better look, “If I had the resources to splint it, that’s what I would suggest. Or what do you think about trying for a Healing session?”
“…I do not wish to slow us down any further. Time is of the essence, after all.” It explained, shaking itself. Ben shrugged and planted a hand onto its back, sparking blue light everywhere.
[Benedict Carrey Has Activated Healing!]
[FlightMaster Feathertooth Has Been Restored to Base HP!]
It stretched its wing out, testing it out with an approving noise.
“Okay, great, now we gotta rush.” Michael replied, spinning his staff nervously, “There’s not much time.” He led the charge to get above ground, Ben struggling to get Feathertooth’s cage up the hole.
“You could simply let me out.” Feathertooth suggested.
“Shut it.” Ben hissed to him before looking at Michael, “You got a plan for how you’re planning to get into the air?”
Michael frowned, trying to think of something. A potential idea came to mind, but it was risky. He shouldn’t really be hedging his bets on a flimsy piece of wood. But he did. And he rammed the tip of the staff onto the sandy floor, channeling his wishes into the object.
[Applying Sorcery!]
[Spell: Floatation]
A sharp gust of wind pushed out from the staff, aimed downwards so hard that it nearly knocked Michael clean off his feet. But he held his ground and his balance, and in the end he just remained hovering several feet in the air, standing there as if he was simply hanging from a tree branch.
He dangled there for a few minutes, before he finally managed to pull himself onto the staff like all the broomsticks he’d seen in media. Ben let out a victorious whoop from below him, as a notification popped up.
[Item Upgrade: Aviation Staff!]
“Okay, bring it down!” She called to him, and Michael clutched the handle to angle it downwards, letting her climb on behind him. That, and the addition of the cage threw off his balance even more than he already was.
“I don’t think I can do this.” He whispered, hands shaking as he tried to bring it back up.
“Not to put pressure on you, but you have to.” Ben told him tightly. Michael held back the frustrated comment as he nudged the staff into the air, squeezing the handle tightly until it rocketed forward into the empty void of the custard-colored skies.
Ben’s hands clutched onto his shoulders, “See, you got it!” She screamed into his ears with false cheer, “Now slow the fuck down!”
“If I knew how to do that, I would!” He yelled back, out of necessity from how loud the whistling from the wind was.
“The stick is being controlled by how tight you’re holding it!” Feathertooth suggested, rattling inside its cage. Michael took a breath and pried his vice grip off the handle, until the pace slowed down to a much more reasonable rate, leaving them drifting through the yellowed skies.
They all held their breaths for a moment for the other shoe to drop. When it didn’t, Michael hazarded breaking the silence, “Okay, which direction do we go in?” He asked.
“That way.” Feathertooth replied, raising its hand to point him in the direction, its body turned into a puffed up cloud of terrified feathers. He stiffly went in that direction, still shell shocked.
They flew around clouds for a few minutes, recovering from the shock until Ben gathered the wits to ask Feathertooth, “Tell me about this court trial they’re subjecting Verity to.”
“The Avian Judicial Enforcement Force does not have force in its name twice for no reason.” Feathertooth started off, very ominously, “They follow a philosophy where the innocent are hard-working and capable birds.”
“What.”
“So, while the defendant and prosecutor debates above them, the suspects are thrown into increasingly dangerous trials until they either win the crowd over or convince them of their innocence.” Feathertooth steamrollered on, even as Michael and Ben’s anxiety jumped up another notch.
“Do I have to tell you that this is a ridiculous idea?” Ben asked.
“Even if you did, it would be to no effect.” Feathertooth replied, “I have no control over the laws of our society. I am simply a Flightmaster, after all.”
“So, just as an aside, how dangerous do these trials get?” Michael asked, swerving slightly as the air currents shifted around him, “Like, for a human.”
“The one trial I was present at, they had the defendant weighed down and thrown into a vat of quick drying rock until he pulled himself out.”
“Shiiiit.” Ben hissed, “And after all that, feeding the guilty guy to the demon chicks is the worst thing you could think of?”
“It is a symbolic way to die.” Feathertooth defended, “The spoils of those who wish us harm being used to feed the young with the world at their feet.”
“Oh, so you’re not just gruesome, you’re poetic about it.” Ben snorted, “Keep going.”
“Or don’t.” Michael interrupted, tilting the staff slightly as in the middle of the sandy yellow sky, a brown dot appeared, swathed in clouds, “I think this is the place we’re looking for, right?”
“Yes.” Feathertooth gave an affirmative caw, “Take cover, this is where the patrols are most likely to notice your presence.”
“We are in the middle of the sky and it is not cloudy. Where do you expect us to find cover?” Michael asked angrily, not taking his eyes off the blot in the sky, watching for any ghostly black silhouettes that may spot them.
“Hold on, I think I got a trick Terry taught me.” Ben replied.
[Benedict Carrey Has Applied Shrink Down!]
[You Have Become Undetectable to Corvids!]
Two crows zipped past them, and Michael held his breath as they passed by, not even sparing them a glance.
“Hurry, hurry, the trial is already started!” One of them cackled. Michael’s blood froze as they disappeared into the floating island.
His hands gripped the handle a little tighter as he brought the staff towards the court.
[Player Log End!]