With night came darkness, the only light in the sky that of the ethereal leviathan known as Gis. Its long, shimmering body looked several times smaller due to the distance. It’s reflective shine obscured the shape of its body. No matter how far or how close one could get, none but the leviathan itself would ever know what it truly looked like. It traveled without care that most slept through its brilliance, lighting the way just enough for the midnight traveler.
In this case the traveler was Klaus, who had waited for night to fully descend before returning to the place where the Harpen had set up camp. His mask covered his face, and a strange blade was held in his hand. Its blade had an unnatural blue tone, carved from a mineral that neither he nor anyone else knew. His plans could be easily discerned, however, for blades only had a few purposes and nearly all of them dealt with pain and death. Tonight, he would take what he hoped would be the last life that ever needed to die.
The camp was as quiet as could possibly be, Nyal and her parents having fallen asleep some time ago. The Historia had shown him such, and he hoped they would not wake from his movements. Doing his best to remain quiet, he walked over to the tent that he had seen Nyal come out of earlier that day. He prayed that it was only her that was sleeping in there, for he did not want to chance waking her parents.
His heart sank at the realization he was even thinking such thoughts. Nothing about this was right, and yet here he stood with the intention to kill despite that. As he stood outside the tent, he tried to tell himself to turn away, that it wasn’t too late. Just like earlier, though, his will to resist was overrun as he remembered what he had witnessed Reine soldiers do to those he loved. The idea of joining his mother among the ranks of the dead was too terrifying, and without a second thought, he parted the tent’s entrance and entered.
The tent was mostly empty save for a few blankets and, more importantly, a young Harpen with her Historia clutched in her wings. She held it tightly, a smile wide on her face as she slept in peace. The face was so innocent and wonderful that once again Klaus tried to turn around and walk away. Once more, he failed to do so as he remembered the scene of his mother, father, and friends falling at the end of blades and arrows. He had to stop that from ever happening again. For the betterment of mankind.
For the better of the world.
So, hoping to the Oracles that she wasn’t a light sleeper, Klaus went about doing what he had been told. To kill an Oracle Vessel, one must pierce the historia as well, making them mortal and unable for the other side to revive them. For that reason he turned Nyal off her side and onto her back, kneeled over, and raised his hand ready to thrust the blade down into her chest. Yet he hesitated, for despite all he did to convince himself this was for the best, he couldn’t help but recognize what he was about to do.
He stood over a child no older than eleven, a blade in his hand ready to be plunged into her chest. The smile on her face told him that she was happy, and what he was about to do would put an end to that happy dream. It would be replaced with nothingness, for that was all that awaited in one's death. He was about to kill a child, a happy child. He knew that this very child held within her death and all that it was, but it did not change that he was killing an innocent.
At that point, everything went downhill. With her position suddenly changed, Nyal roused from her sleep in a groggy haze. She let out a groan, and it made Klaus hesitate even more as he realized he had disturbed her peace. Her eyes barely opened, all in her vision being the barely visible outline of someone before her. Barely awake, she gave them a smile and called out to whom she thought they were.
“Rarri, rarri? Tatti, tatti?” She asked, Klaus recognizing those as the words for mother and father.
He did not speak, and he had no idea as to how to proceed from this point. He thought of moving his hand and clenching her throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to choke her. Refusing to move, he prayed that she quickly fell back asleep. She did not, instead her hazy vision trailed away from his face and up above him. Eyes quickly fell on the blade before her, and Klaus realized that he had messed up.
“Tatt-“
He let go of the blade and let it fall against the ground, the sound reverberating through the tent. With hands free, he brought them around her neck not to crush it, but to try to make her pass out. It stopped her attempted yells, but did not stop the flails of fear and panic. Her talons and wings tried uselessly to get Klaus off her. All she managed to do was kick the air and slap him with little to no force behind her wings.
Slowly, the world began to sink away for the Harpen hen, her breath leaving her quickly. Her flails grew less and less as Klaus did his damnedest to force sleep upon her. If he had just a few more seconds, he would have succeeded. Instead, he felt another pair of wings and talons grab him from behind and force him off Nyal. He was flung away from her, mask falling off his face as he was forced out of the tent. With barely a second to spare, he put the mask back on and stood up to look at who had done that.
“We should have known better than to allow Acamian scum to join us,” Aria said, standing before Klaus with wings held high to try to intimidate him. “You and yours truly are as horrible as history tells us.”
Klaus looked at his position and then at those who had stopped him. He was certain they had fallen asleep, yet Nyal’s parents now stood on both sides of him. Nyal exitted her tent, still holding the Historia in her wings. Klaus let out a silent curse, knowing that he had lost any chance at killing Nyal alone. He took out the same knife he had stuck in the tree earlier, and held it out in ready defense.
“We talked and shared our story with you, and in turn you think to kill our daughter,” Lasp said, his pose the exact same as his wife. “Me’re’thia would be disappointed to know what you have done.”
“Do not speak for the Oracle of Life when you have never met her,” Klaus said, his voice both confident and conflicted at the same time. “She showed me Rag’na’rog’s path to immortality, and I will see it through. Step out of my way and I will let you live.”
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“We shall not, for we have already lost one daughter and have no wish to lose another,” Aria said, before turning around to her Nyal with a look of fearful determination on her face. “Nyal, rata!”
“Tatti, tatti?” Nyal called, scared and looking at each individual before her. She was shivering, clutching the book so tightly to her chest it no doubt left an indent in her feathers.
“Rata ri!” Her mother replied, and Nyal stammered back at the force in her mother's voice.
Nyal glanced around at the three adults before her, then took steps to the side as she nodded to her mother. Without another word, she turned around and ran towards the woods, something Klaus knew he couldn’t allow. He made off after her, his steps quicker than his prey and gaining quickly. Just like earlier, he felt him dragged off target as Lasp flew up from behind him and grabbed his shirt. Klaus gagged as the front of his shirt was pressed against his neck and he was dragged backwards.
After a second or two, he took his knife and swung back, being sent to the ground as Lasp let go of his shirt to avoid the attack. Klaus got up and looked at where Nyal had once been. In her place stood Aria, wings out, and her daughter nowhere to be seen. He cursed his hesitation, his inability to do what must be done, and lastly he cursed his horrible luck. Knowing that his target was likely far gone by this point, he turned his attention to the more pressing issues before him in the two Harpen around him.
“You can’t stop me, the means to my death is not here,” Klaus told them, holding his knife out prepared to defend himself. “Even with the Dragonblade, you know not where my Historia is at this moment.”
“We have no need to kill. We only need to delay you,” Aria told him, looking at her husband as she did. She saw him give a confident nod. “As long as our daughter lives, you do not win.”
“Then you have made an enemy of life itself,” Klaus replied. He looked between both Harpen, and his voice suddenly turned sharp. “Well, bring it!”
With no further words, Aria and Lasp flung themselves forward, and Klaus made ready to strike back.
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She had no idea how long she had been running. She didn’t know how far away her mother and father were, who it was that had attacked her, or why this had all happened. All Nyal knew was that her mother had told her to run, and she had done so. Her feet barely felt like they were hitting the forest floor anymore, and the feeling of brush and twigs didn’t face her no matter how much they scraped her form. She wouldn’t stop until her body was physically unable to run any farther.
Her mind had been unable to get those terrifying seconds out of her brain. The realization that someone was trying to kill her, the feeling of her breath leaving her body. No part of it felt real, and yet she knew very much that she had lived in. There was a part of her that could still feel his hands around her neck still, and the thought she could turn around and see him right behind her kept her from looking anywhere but in front of her. Nyal knew that, if she was right, the instant she turned around she would likely be a goner. That was how it always seemed to be in nightmares, and as everything stood, she was living one.
Her form finally stopped pressing forward as she ran into a group of dead trees, a branch hitting her in the face and sending her reeling back. She dropped her special book and stammered back for a second, wings covering her face. Her nose hurt, her talons burned, and her head was filled with so many emotions she didn’t know which to pull from. Lowering her wings, she looked at the surrounding environment, her heart seeking and body shivering more than it already was.
She had no idea where in Rag’na’rog she had run.
Before her were trees, trees, and the barest sight of Gis up in the night sky through the trees. The woods were horrifically quiet, as if something could pop out at any second from absolutely everywhere. Her talons grasped the ground firmly, as if worried the slightest of gusts could blow her away in that moment. She opened her mouth to yell, but immediately brought her wings in front of her mouth to stop herself. There was no telling how close or far she was from her parents anymore, and she didn’t want to risk the idea of being heard.
Looking down Nyal saw her special book laying on the ground. She quickly picked it up, holding close the only familiar sight left at that point. She had no idea if she should continue forward, or if it was maybe safe enough to head back. Nyal wasn’t even sure if she could find her way back, her path consumed by the darkness of night and her brain’s lack of memory as to how she had reached that point. She was beyond just being lost, she was stuck where it was likely no soul would find her.
“This isn’t good, this really isn’t good,” she whispered to herself. Her heart was beating fast from due to the terror of her situation. She looked up, the barely visible shine of Gis still clear through the trees. “If I were mom, I would… I don’t know what she would do. Dad would take to the sky, but my wings aren’t yet fit to fly.”
Speaking of her parents sent another fear into her soul, one that bore at her even more than anything relating to herself. Her parents had stayed behind, and what had happened to them was unknown. She was afraid to make it known, and it tore at her heart like all too many things that night. Walking up to one of the many nearby trees, she sat down at its base and curled herself into a ball.
She didn’t cry because her mind was still too busy with activity. Instead, Nyal prayed to Ar’ga’rou, the Oracle of Death, in case her parents had fallen. She did the same for Me’re’thia afterwards in case of the wonderful and hopeful reality they lived. Lastly, she prayed to Am’a’ros, the Oracle of Balance, that she herself would be okay. All the prayers were silent, and she did not know why she bothered when she was certain none would answer.
At least, that was what she thought. As she sat there, unsure of what to do and where to go, something ethereal wrapped around her. It was like a warm blanket covering her form, and for the first time since her abrupt wake-up that night, she felt a sense of calm. She did not know where it came from or if she was feeling things, but Nyal did not care. She felt her body growing heavier as she calmed, and a voice entered her head.
“Fear not, Darling. I am here for you.”
Nyal’s heart jumped as high as her body did at the voice. The warmth that had blanketed her was gone, and she felt colder than she had been beforehand. Her eyes glanced all around her to see where it came from, but she saw nothing. Had she imagined it? She couldn’t say, for she never had to deal with hearing voices before.
She took a few steps back, taking some last glances at the surrounding area before running off deeper into the forest. The ethereal warmth watched her, unmoving from where it had calmed the Harpen for a short period of time. Slowly, it started to dissipate, realizing that it had chosen the wrong time to speak. It chuckled at its foolishness.
“How silly of me to think she wouldn’t be afraid, given everything that happened tonight,” It spoke, voice getting quieter the more it dissipated. “I’ll get my chance. It is only a matter of time.”
With that, the warmth let itself fade away into the night, its identity unknown to all but itself. Nyal, meanwhile, would continue to run for as long as her body could carry her. She would only collapse when she was too tired anymore, with no idea where she was. None knew but a chosen three that the events which played out that night had restarted a conflict that had once been put on hold. A conflict that previously left the corpse of Rag’na’rog covered in blood.