Lykha the fairy is young and naive, as all fairies typically are when they leave their safe haven villages far out of reach of the other races of the world. However, unlike the Lykha of almost a year ago, she has survived many harrowing experiences with a close group of friends.
During their travels, though, Mury fell ill with a seemingly-incurable disease. Fortunately, they were able to find a fairy sage who claimed to possess the cure.
That part is the truth.
However, Yanari, the fairy sage that now could pass for a younger sister to Lykha thanks to a wish the sage manipulated out of another fairy, is not a wise old soul offering wisdom and philanthropy. She is a wicked and selfish fairy, perfectly content stealing wishes from other fairies, either through manipulation or hypnosis.
Yanari is still coughing from the teargas attack Lykha managed to use to defend herself from the sage’s lightning, and the sage casts a gust spell to blow the teargas around. She also casts a greater healing spell on herself, relieving herself of her burning and irritated eyes, throat, and lungs.
The sage coughs, spitting once more before she asks sharply, “Tell me, child; do you genuinely believe you’re doing this for revenge on behalf of those two pathetic girls, or is it the more likely answer that you fear being next? To be without your wish truly is to be dreaded, so I understand. And, in this case, you can sleep better at night pretending you were trying to do something for someone else. But it’s too late.”
Murtoa’s voice coughs, and he asks, “What did your wish get used on?”
The fairy sage scoffs, retorting, “That IS the real question, isn’t it? Three hundred years ago, and I still hear the words to this day. ‘I wish I could see the future.’ I was young at the time, so a woman could now see years into the future, but couldn’t observe her own impending death moments before it happened.” Yanari scoffs and begins laughing. “It was then I realized that wishes are a joke. A joke on us fairies most of all.”
Yanari isn’t so distracted with her monologue to miss Lykha sneaking up on her, and she casts a spray of fireballs that explode around her, and again, Lykha is able to use her knife to shield her face from the worst of the nearest blast. She ducks out of sight once more behind a supporting or decorative column.
The fairy sage continues, a little more angrily, “Mine was certainly not the first wish wasted, nor will it be the last. You, yourself, Lykha, wanted to waste your own for a single human life.” Seeing Murtoa trying to lift himself enough to attack, she uses a telekinetic pull to tear stone from the ceiling, pelting him back to the ground with a cough.
Lykha retorts angrily, “It wouldn’t have been a waste! Mury’s saved more lives than any of us ever will!”
Yanari laughs. “She’s not familiar with causality, is she, Murtoa of Lakia?” She casts rocks towards Lykha, and the young fairy yelps as she dodges the stones.
“I’m curious, Lykha; what was your plan after you defeated me? Are you so certain there is more medicine on me? Or, perhaps, you are hoping I left my notes lying around somewhere.” She rips apart the floor with telekinesis, startling Lykha as she and her cover begin floating. The young fairy bats some of the stones away with the knife that fits her like a giant greatsword, and she darts out of the way as Yanari tries to close the debris in on Lykha.
Still, Yanari continues, “I’ll let you in on a little secret; there’s a reason I’m the only one who can cure the demon ash plague. Would you like a hint? It begins with;” Yanari whispers deviously, “I wish…” She laughs, firing off spells that Lykha scrambles to dodge.
Yanari has boundless magical power compared to Lykha -undoubtedly a result of a wish-, and she has apparently around 300 years of life from which to pull experience.
But, like Lykha, Yanari is still a fairy. They are not combatants by nature, and so, she is simply firing off spells while defending her position with illusions and area of effect spells.
Lykha has a plan, though. She knows from the smells that the two vials of Maerin’s making that she already used were teargas and an astringent for basic medicinal use. She has one left, and this one is a nearly pure alcoholic spirit -trewble, as Maerin calls it-. It’s by far the most odorous concoction Lykha had on her, and it’s also the most flammable.
Of course, she also has flashbacks to the first person she killed; a bandit carrying a simple pouch of black powder that exploded when Lykha hit him with her basic ember spell.
Lykha takes a breath, readying herself. Be brave, Lykha. You can do this. Mury needs you. Even Coco and the others need you.
Yanari taunts as she takes a seat on Murtoa’s helmet, watching the general area Lykha is hiding in. “Are you tired yet, Lykha? As you probably can guess, I have quite a bit of patience. And, for an old woman, I’d say I have quite a bit of time left.” She plays with her newly youthful hair.
Lykha grips her equivalent of a sword -one of Murtoa’s throwing knives-. She whispers, “Schieranna, please lend me your power. Grant me the power of wind, that I might save Mury and my friends.”
Tell Mury I want a kiss in return. Hold on to your wings, little fairy.
Lykha guides the building magic power and the spell Schieranna taught her in exchange for using Lykha’s body for a day. She darts out of her cover. She has to be faster than Yanari, and she’ll only have one chance. The spells of the spirits are extremely draining on Lykha, and she needs much more practice with her magic to increase her stamina. Once she fires the tempest spell, she needs to move quickly.
Yanari’s hand begins to spark. Come on, Lykha! Faster!
The young fairy finds her mark, unleashing the culmination of her power through magic, and a gust swirls in a small tornado around Yanari and Murtoa. Yanari, however, is able to resist the wind, aligning her own spell.
However, Lykha didn’t JUST use the spell Schieranna taught her; she asked for Schieranna’s help. Wherever the spirits are imprisoned, their influence over the magic of the world is woven like a fabric into that very same magic. Even Lykha, using her basic spells, is drawing from them.
And now, a conduit for Schieranna’s true strength has opened.
The tempest winds suddenly intensify, concentrated on Yanari, and the fairy sage, in spite of her great power and efforts, is blasted to the ceiling.
Lykha makes her next move quickly, darting up and placing the spirit vial. The winds explode outwards as Yanari screams in fury, and Lykha is knocked back to the floor. She tries to rise, but collapses.
Yanari lands on the ground, huffing angrily. She growls, “While impressive that such a young waif could manage even an ounce more than a spark, was that truly all you had in you, poor little Lykha?” She catches her breath for a moment, brushing debris off of her shoulder. “It would have been easier if you simply granted my wish. At least then, your friend would live.”
Lykha struggles to look up with tears running down her cheeks. She strains out, “Mury’s… harder to kill… than you think…”
Yanari stares at her a moment, and then she snickers. She descends into full laughter, hugging her sides as she does. She lifts off of the floor, heading towards the hose she uses to draw her hypnosis smoke into the dispenser. She muses, “I think I will have you kill him after all. With your wish, of course.”
The fairy sage reaches for the hose, pausing for a moment as she looks to the side. There, she finds a small glass vial tucked against one of the pipes of the magical apparatus itself. A sudden, tiny, magical ember sparks from the simple snap of tiny fingers, and Yanari is engulfed in fire.
Just as she recoils from the fireball, she whirls to find Lykha mere inches away, swinging her over-sized knife like a sword. However, Yanari was not the young fairy’s target.
The blade slashes through a simple tube, severing the quick connect and valve containing the magical smoke within.
And, the naive little fairy quickly snatches the end of the hose spraying the purple smoke with her breath held, catching Yanari on an inward gasp.
And from there, the battle between a comparatively inexperienced fairy adventurer and her vastly senior fairy sage comes to an end.
Lykha watches the fire drain from Yanari’s gaze, indicating that she’s hypnotized by the gasp, and she takes a quick breath, hoping the smoke dissipates quickly. She then darts away from the smoke as it continues to spray into the room.
Lykha orders from the floor near Murtoa as he starts to sit up, “Yanari, come here.”
The deceptively youthful-appearing fairy sage obeys without any resistance, hovering down to Lykha’s level with a blank gaze. The younger fairy then orders, “Yanari, give Murtoa the medicine.” Yanari replies in a dull and soulless tone, “I have none. I will need to make more.”
“Fine, I’ll learn how to make it. Yanari, teach me how to make the medicine.”
“I cannot. Only I can make it.”
Confused, Lykha orders, “Explain.”
Yanari does nothing, and Lykha sighs. “Yanari, explain why only you can make the medicine.”
Yanari replies in the same blank tone, “I wished for a disease that I could control the spread and only I could cure.”
Lykha gasps. So, it was true!?
The ground shakes again, and Lyhka flinches. “The monster! Mury, I need to take her and-...” He holds up a hand to her, saying softly, “We don’t know how long the smoke is effective. And, I have a hunch.”
Lykha looks to Murtoa. She has no idea what he could be thinking if not to use Yanari to stop her own monster.
****************************
Coco slams into the ramp of the trunk winder as she scrambles for the locks, unlocking the ramp so she can enter. She can hear the crackle and boom of Gyrryth’s thunder pistols, and the monster roars.
The teen has a crucial job, but she does delay briefly to fire her slinger at the monster, hitting it with another blast of Maerin’s special anti demon ash serum. The phoenix monster recoils with a shriek, and Gyrryth tries to close the distance to its damaged wing with Zaermaa.
Coco returns her focus to entering the trunk winder, scrambling to the boiler control as she tosses her bag onto the workbench in the rear hold. Blastie chatters, while Maerin rants, “OI! I was workin’!”
Coco shouts, “Make more’o’yer gol’water splashas! I gotta light the boilers!” Coco doesn’t delay, opening valves and kindling the burner. She uses the bellows to rekindle the fire from embers left over from earlier, and she ensures the temperature is rising. She then jogs to the cockpit to start up the trunk winder. She can monitor the boilers from the cockpit, and the vehicle can run ever so briefly on the batteries alone. Enough, at least, to get the fuel hopper running.
The trunk winder shakes as the phoenix stomps, and Coco witnesses Gyrryth tumbling in a blast of debris as ash sprays on the winds caused by the titan’s movements.
She watches intently, and the lizardman scrambles to his feet after only a brief daze. The teen sighs, returning to her operations of the long vehicle. Maerin flies in, saying, “Coco! Coco!”
“I know! Needle nose is still quite spry!”
“No! We can’t let it leave! It’s the source of the plague!”
“WHA’!?”
“Think about it! The phoenix, a creature that regenerates from ashes, and the demon ash plague, which dooms its victims to a decaying death!” The inebriated fairy falls into Coco’s lap, though her fear and desperation has sobered her up a fair bit, at least enough to understand the danger they’re in.
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Coco retorts, “Tell me wha’tha’ means.”
“A nearly-unkillable monster infected with the disease shedding it like monster dandruff! I don’t know how it’s being repelled from the island, but the monster is trying to ignore Gyrryth and leave.”
Coco looks around, thinking. She smiles. “Aye, but ye likely no’ gonna like me plan.” The teen scrambles out of the driver seat, taking the cannon station for firing the forward winch cannons. She turns the first barrel towards the nearest tree root, which is partially ashen as it reaches through the plague zone, but it’s exposed and should still contain enough mass to anchor to.
Or, that’s what Coco assumes, anyways. She fires the cannon, and the winch sails through the air, spearing into the root with a puff of the doomsday dust. She then switches to the other forward winch, turning back towards the phoenix, which, as Maerin said, is trying to ignore Gyrryth and run past him in spite of his explosive spellshots.
Coco aims at the phoenix’s neck, saying menacingly, “Ye’ luck’s run out, monstie! BOOM!” The cannon rumbles the trunk winder as it fires in sync with the teen’s call, and the winch anchor sails through the air, spearing into the demonic bird’s neck. It stumbles from the impact, shrieking in rage and pain as the anchor spears through, pulling back. It doesn’t yank free, though, and Coco cheers, “HA! Ya dumb monstie goob! I am Coco o’Lakia! Bes’ techromanca in the world! Hahahahaha!”
Maerin, watching in a light daze, shakes her head clear. “Wai’. You can’t say that. You’re not a knight.”
“What?”
“You can’t say you’re ‘Coco of Lakia’.”
“Can so! I’m ‘Bando’s firs’ an’ favorite wife.”
“You’re not married, and you’re not-...” Both of them scream when the vehicle suddenly lurches, and Maerin shouts, “RIGHT! COCO!”
“AYE! I know!” Coco returns to the driver’s seat, stumbling when the phoenix tries to pull again. The vehicle is lurching towards facing between both points. Maerin asks as she flies up onto the dashboard, holding onto one of the hand anchors in front of a set of buttons, which allow the driver to keep their hands nearby the buttons in just such a situation. Twanging and ringing sounds through the trunk winder from the cables becoming taut and straining. The winches themselves are highly reinforced, as they’re intended to stop a trunk winder in mid-fall. But, that doesn’t mean they’re unbreakable, nor is the frame of the trunk winder to which they’re anchored.
Maerin asks, “What if you fire the other winches too? That’ll distribute the load better!”
“Ye talkin’ above me head at a terrible time, Maerin!”
“More anchor points are better! Trust me!”
“Me hands are a bit full!” Coco engages the turbines, and the trunkwinder hums to life. She instantly puts the vehicle into gear, driving opposite of the direction the vehicle is trying to move while the phoenix tries to lumber in a circle around them.
The mature fairy says as she clutches the anchor point, “Then, I guess I need to go find Gyrryth, don’t I!?”
“Aye! Do i’ quick!”
“On it!”
Maerin pushes herself into the air, flying as quickly as her battered and scarred wings can carry her. She’s not much faster than a human running, and it’s extremely painful for her, but she needs to hurry. She yells as she passes into the rear hold, “Gyrryth!” She flies out of the ramp, scanning for the drakyk spellshot. “GYRRYTH!”
The lizardman bursts around the corner of the trunk winder as the front end is dragged with the phoenix’s run. A terrifying crack startles them both, and they look. The root that was being anchored too has splintered. The vehicle starts to drag more quickly, and the tracks suddenly start rolling in reverse, picking up speed even as they tear apart the ground. Maerin shouts, “INSIDE! NOW!”
She falls into Gyrryth’s arms as he nods, sprinting to follow the trunk winder. She says, “You need to fire the rear winches!”
“They will do little good. There aren’t enough anchor points in range. Has Coco tried the quicklocks?"
"The what?"
"Come." Gyrryth quickly makes his way forward carrying Maerin, stumbling when the vehicle sways in its tug of war with the colossus.
The drakyk jogs into the cockpit, asking, “Coco, have you fired the quicklocks?”
“The wha’?” asks Coco as she tries to steer against the phoenix’s motions, keeping the tracks digging into the ground.
“An emergency anchor system. It’s not as popular as the winches, but…” Gyrryth leans over her, scanning the console. He points, “There.” Maerin flinches. It’s the same buttons whose hand anchor she was clutching to. Gyrryth flips the safety cover of the five switches present, and he calls out, “Brace yourselves!” He begins flipping the switches from right to left, which read in that order, ‘Comp. 5’, ‘Comp. 4’, ‘Comp. 3’... No sooner does each switch get flipped, does the trunk winder rumble from a new blast, ascending forward from the rear with each switch.
Maerin realizes the switches represent the sections of the trunk winder, and she is hearing something being fired from each one from rear to forward.
When all five switches are fired, the vehicle comes to a complete stop again, and the phoenix shrieks as it falls, yanked suddenly by the sudden halt. It tries to pull against its own neck, tearing flesh as it desperately tries to continue on its ‘escape’. The trunk winder is a few dozen yards into the plague zone, and dust is settling around them from the commotion. The cable on the winch groans, and Gyrryth sighs. “I pray our friends are okay.”
“What was that?” asks Coco.
“They are tungsten rods loaded into howitzers aimed at the ground. They are designed to anchor even into the stone-like faces of petrified trees, and theoretically into stone as well. Unfortunately, they are highly disadvantageous to use on normal ground.”
“Why’s that?” asks Maerin.”
“Because we’re stuck, now.” Gyrryth suddenly turns. “The hatch. I did not close it.”
Both girls look aft, and Coco replies softly, “I-... If ‘Bando and Tricksie get the medicine… w-we’ll be okay, right?”
Gyrryth nods solemnly, “Let us pray. My sincerest apologies. I had not considered the risks.”
Maerin replies, “Neither did I. But, right now, what do we do about our fire-feathered friend?”
Gyrryth scratches his chin as the diseased colossus tries to struggle to its feet, but because of the disease diminishing its cognition, it is unable to fully fathom how it is stuck. Though, it is tearing the anchor through its flesh, working the anchor out of its neck.
Gyrryth replies, “I know of the legends, but I know not how a phoenix is meant to be defeated, let alone one infected with this dreadful disease.”
Coco replies, “I saw the nightmale ‘Bando slayed when we met. He blasted its head with a spike. No’ bu’ this big!” She holds her hands about a foot apart.”
Gyrryth nods, “A nightenmael’s skull is supposedly fairly thin, if I recall his words correctly. I don’t think we’ll be able to access the phoenix’s skull so easily. And, I don’t know that it’ll make a difference.”
“Do we have a way to decapitate it, then?” asks Maerin. “Since our original plan isn’t going to work.”
“To get close enough, we would need to brave the…” Gyrryth suddenly trails off. Maerin and Coco follow his gaze to the phoenix, and Maerin gasps, while Coco murmurs, “Uuuhh… D-Did… Mury?”
As the three watch in stupefaction, the phoenix dissolves. It’s not incinerating into a gigantic, looming cloud of demon ash plague. It’s simply evaporating into a glowing spot of light.
Similarly and equally stunning, the snow-white ash of the plague is also moving in a sudden swirl, slowly moving on its own.
The three watch in wonder as the forest seems to clear of two major threats to all life in a seeming instant.
********************
Moments before, Murtoa climbs to a kneel, leaning towards Yanari. Lykha asks urgently, “Wh-what are you going to do?”
He ignores her briefly, saying coldly, “Yanari; cast the Pelox Desterri on Yanari the fairy sage.”
Lykha watches Yanari’s expression, particularly when she notices her eyes shift. She has no control right now, but clearly her mind is still conscious and aware of what’s going on.
Without objection or hesitation, the hypnotized Yanari begins chanting in dark tones with cold inflection. However, unlike the language used for the red powder, Lykha recognizes at least a couple of words of ancient fae. Yanari’s hands move, and dark energy swirls around her as she pulls darkness from the universe and world around them.
Lykha asks frantically, “What’s happening!? What is that!?”
Murtoa replies coldly, “Just watch.”
Yanari continues the spell, sweeping her hand down across her own chest as she says her own name. The dark energy coalesces over her, pouring down into her.
However, Lykha notices tears running down Yanari’s cheeks. She’s crying, terrified of the spell. Lykha looks at Murtoa again, but he is focused on the fairy sage. Whatever the spell is, Yanari recognizes it and knows its implications.
Is it some kind of curse? Instant death? How… does Mury know something like this?
Suddenly, bright lights dart in from many directions, passing through Yanari as she screams suddenly, in spite of the hypnosis. The lights dart off into the distance as dozens pass through her. Suddenly one such light appears in the room, and then another and another as the furnishings of the room dissolve into the lights.
Lykha recognizes the light now. It’s the magical power of a wish; the raw energy of creation that can manifest virtually anything.
One of the wishes appears above the purple ring in the floor, damaged from the battle, but just as quickly, the glow dissapears as well. And, that light darts to a specific corner of the room instead of out the window like the many others.
Everything around them seems to be dissolving, including the magic apparatus that makes the purple hypnosis smoke, the statues, the furniture, the lights; virtually everything but the alcove in the cliff itself. Lykha peeks out the window, and even the ashen ring around the oasis is disappearing, while a distant colossus, clearly infected with the demon ash plague, evaporates.
Yanari’s wishes… They’re being undone!
Lykha looks once more at Yanari, and she gasps. The fairy sage, crying out with each of the wishes passing through her, has lost her magic glow, as if she just used a wish. Her wings are pale and her youthful, glossy skin is now clammy and bland. Her hair has lost its luster and sheen, and she has lost much of the ominous aura around her as lights continue to dart through her, each eliciting a cry of pain from her.
The last wishes seem to be pulling the very youth from Yanari, coalescing it into several singular magical lights like all the others, and she ages before Lykha’s very eyes, rapidly passing full adulthood, filling out similarly to Maerin, and then aging well beyond wrinkles. Her tears are pouring down her cheeks as she gasps, unable to form words. Lykha hovers closer to the fairy sage, heartbroken to watch the scene in spite of Yanari’s wicked selfishness. She catches Yanari when the rapidly aging fairy sinks suddenly.
The last words Yanari speaks are barely above a whisper as pain steals her voice. “I wish… I never… left home…”
Lykha’s heart clenches, and tears fill her own eyes as the light leaves Yanari’s eyes. The sage’s body very quickly ages the last little bits; her skin peeling away and leaving behind a small skeleton without wings, which Lykha holds in her arms as the tears in her eyes swell.
I know, Yanari… I know…
Lykha sniffles. Her sorrow is delayed only a moment when two fairies suddenly gasp. “Seaevvi! Y-Your wings!”
In the new darkness of the virtually empty cave, two glowing figures other than Lykha are hugging each other.
Lykha can see Murtoa’s helmet shift in the darkness from her own glow reflecting off of his cracked eye lenses, and he looks at her.
Lykha, cradling the skeleton of a fairy sage who could very easily have foreshadowed Lykha’s own life, or even Maerin’s, if Maerin stumbled across a fairy she could or would trick into giving her wish back.
The dam breaks, and Lykha’s eyes begin pouring tears as she clutches the bones to her chest, sobbing desperately. Her knees find a pair of gloves as she sinks downward, losing the will to fly in the moment. She sobs desperately, hugging the skull’s cheek to her own. Murtoa says nothing, simply holding the fairy off of the ground as she sobs with a kindred being, if not kindred spirit, that died in her arms.
Eventually, after several long minutes or even an hour, for all Lykha knows, she is able to choke out, “H-... How could you…? Wh-...?” She’s not trying to accuse Mury of anything, but her heart hurts, and she doesn’t understand what just happened. It FEELS like he just murdered her in one of the most sinister ways possible; more sinister even than Yanari herself. She knows that’s not true, but her sorrow and heartbreak need answers.
Murtoa replies quietly, “I only knew the core of what it was supposed to do. She needed to be stopped.”
Lykha chokes, whimpering, “I know that… I-I do… I just…” She clutches the skull more firmly. “N-... It hurts…”
“I know. Which is why I did it. Not you. I have no regrets.”
Lykha flinches in pain from her heart, sobbing briefly again. Realizing, though, that they just learned something that dooms the human warrior, she asks desperately, “Wh-What about the cure?”
Murtoa pulls away the tears in his pants, exposing his flesh. Though he still has rather deep cuts that appear like they’ve partially healed, the ashen dust and skin is gone. He explains softly, “I suspected and appear to be correct; the disease was wished into existence. Though the harm it caused can’t be undone, its existence could be.”
“S-... So… that’s it? W-... We’re done?”
Murtoa nods. “With this trial of our journey, yes. I believe we are done.”
Lykha nods softly. She asks, “M-... Mury?” She sniffles as she holds off looking at him this time.
“What is it?”
“I-... I know… I know she’s…”
“We’ll find a nice place to bury her, if you want.”
Lykha begins crying again, unable to form words as she nods, desperately thankful that Murtoa of Lakia, of all people, knows her better than anyone else.
He then says, “Seaevvi and her sister.”
“Y-Yes!” squeak both fairies together from the darkness, where their combined glow illuminates them.
“I assume you know how to get home?”
“Y-Yes! W-We’re okay.”
“Good. You need not wait on us, then. I don't know your culture well, but it may be in your best interest to avoid discussion of all that happened here."
Seaevvi, the older sister, nods. “A-Agreed. B-But…”
“What is it?” asks the human warrior.
“Sh-... Shouldn’t… Is there a way we could thank you?”
“Words are sufficient,” replies the human warrior. “But, not owed to me.”
Both fairies nod. They hover up close to Lykha, briefly looking at Yanari’s remains, but then smiling to Lykha. “Lykha, right? Um… Th-Thank you, so much.”
Lykha nods. “Take care, both of you. Seaevvi and…”
The younger fairy replies, “Luness. Pleasure to meet you. And thank you from me, too.”
Lykha nods, “Seaevvi and Luness. Be safe, and take care of each other.”
Luness fidgets with her hands, looking at Murtoa next. She asks innocently, “I-Is it true? A-... Are you really him?”
Murtoa looks at Lykha, and she manages a soft smile, nodding as she sniffles. He sighs, and confirms.
He is no one else in particular were he not Murtoa of Lakia.
************************