Blackwing sailed over the Boiling River. It was midday, and the sun would be setting soon. He could feel the wind flowing around him, his wings adjusted to the thermals to keep him level.
He had to maintain the perfect distance from Scaleback, reports said that they had Skymen scouts of their own. If he was discovered, it wouldn’t be worth returning for the punishment. The assignment was simple, so he wouldn’t complicate the Fieldman’s instructions. All he had to do was wait until the right moment, and then report back.
Blackwing didn’t trust this new Fieldman he was told to work with. They were strange even for their kind, and didn’t respect anything about Blackwing's arrangements as a mercenary. They didn’t care about the rules, they just wanted their own missions done fast, even if it put others in danger. Blackwing cursed for hours after the deal was struck for him to take this mission, it felt suicidal. But it paid well, and he could fly back West to spend time with his family when it was done.
From a distance, Scaleback looked odd. It was a walled city, but only one side was truly secure. The tall stone walls would only stop an assault from his direction. The city would be vulnerable to an attack that could maneuver around the mountains to the East. There were no people on the walls, but he could see there were guards at the gate. The streets were too distant to see in detail, but there were wagons moving around.
Then there was a flash of light, followed by a distant boom. An explosion that was followed by fire and smoke rising from behind the wall.
Then there was a second fire, and a third. That was the signal he was looking for. Scaleback was on fire, the city would crumble.
Blackwing turned back, soaring back along the river. It didn’t take long for him to see the terrible army he was tasked with working for. A shambling mass of bodies, all wearing wraps and rags. Some of them crawled along the ground, while others limped with limbs broken before or after their demise. They were the Ashen souls, Ash Walkers to the Fieldmen. Blackwing heard of them before this job, but he never saw them. He never predicted he would see this many. It felt like a dire omen, apocalyptic.
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There was a litter, a simple black box style palanquin, in the center of a group of the creatures carrying supplies and cargo. Blackwing dropped altitude and landed there.
The creatures carrying the litter stopped, and the side opened up to reveal the masked individual leading all of this, Greywind.
Blackwing spread his wings and bowed his head, before tucking them in. “I have a report, Greywind.”
Greywind didn’t bother getting out of the litter. “Well then, hurry up.”
“I witnessed explosions, three fires.” Blackwing said.
Greywind stared for a moment, one intense eye behind the mask. “Is that all?”
Blackwing nodded, and made a chirping noise that generally meant ‘yes’.
“Okay,” Greywind stepped out of the litter, then slowly stood. The Fieldman was not tall, they didn’t even come to Blackwing’s chin. But they managed to exude a dangerous aura regardless. They walked up to Blackwing, and looked up at him. “What was their response? Did they man the walls, or did they abandon them? Did they seem calm, or was there visible panic? Give me 20 minutes and I could have made your same report from the front lines.”
Blackwing fluffed up his wings. He was tired of being professional with this one. “I fulfilled the contract, no one saw me.”
“That you know of,” Greywind said with a shake of his head. “This was a waste, next time it would be better if I had my own Skymen.”
That was enough. Blackwing didn’t need to stick around for more. They could report the mission successful and argue for their payment from the Princedom later.
“You should work on that.” Blackwing said, turning to leave. “We are not so easily broken.”
His wings spread, but there was a sharp pain as he fully extended them. He went to move, but his body locked up. He looked down, a blade was sticking out of his stomach, and his hand cupped the wound immediately. It wasn’t bleeding, it decayed. He could see his shirt turning to black dust, his skin graying underneath that.
“I don’t need your blessing,” Greywind said, “I make shit happen.”
Blackwing tried to struggle, tried to run. But his vigor was gone, as if the Beat was over. He felt sluggish. As the blade was pulled from him, he collapsed to his knees. He tried to think of home, of his family, anything that would give him the strength to stand and fly free.
“It is gonna be hell to make this work, but this is your own fault.” Greywind said as they slipped the blade around Blackwing’s throat. “Your people were too stubborn, it didn’t need to be this hard.”