Seven Years Ago

Wind shot from Hazelmere’s palm into her face, the girl yelping as scrapes etched her skin. She’d been at this task for almost a week, and nothing changed–she was still just as clumsy as ever, and that accursed fruit remained rooted in place: atop the tree’s crown, mocking her with its glow. It was enough to make her nostrils flare; could her grandmother not see this was stupid? The old woman said herself that the gods made a mistake! What was the point of her dragging her out here, then?

Hazelmere fell to her knees and drooped her head. At times like this, she wished Ashencrane would have left her be. Perhaps the winds would have carried her off to a new land instead.

“Damn!” She squeezed her eyes shut and ran her hands through her hair. She was speaking nonsense again; this was her reality, whether she liked it or not.

She lifted herself off the ground and stretched out her hand. “I just have to…!”

Wind snaked through her fingers, turning to mist when a hand closed around her wrist. She gasped and turned to her right to look the towering man in his one eye.

“You won’t do anything but hurt yourself like that,” Yarrow said. He let go of her wrist and held his staff again.

Tears blurred Hazelmere’s vision as she looked up at him. “What do I do, then? My grandmother won’t listen to me!” She clutched the sides of her head. “She just yells at me and leaves me here!”

“You’re Ashencrane’s, right? I take it you’re that muse she keeps going on about.” He sighed and shook his head. “She’s tough as ice, but she means well.”

“I wish she’d go away!” Hazelmere huffed.

“You don’t mean that,” Yarrow said. He craned his neck to look at the tree’s crown, Hazelmere proceeding to follow suit. He hummed upon eyeing the fruit at the top. “Is that what you want?”

“It’s what she wants!”

Yarrow gently tapped her with his staff. “If I grab it for you and her, will you promise me you’ll stop crying?”

Hazelmere nodded.

“And you’ll promise not to speak ill of your grandmother again?”

Hazelmere nodded again, this time hesitantly.

A ghost of a smile split Yarrow’s scarred face. “Very well,” he said, setting his staff aside.

Hazelmere’s large eyes swelled. “You can’t walk without that!”

Yarrow ignored her and leaped into the air, planting his feet on the iced bark while wrapping his arm around the trunk. He skittered up the leafed colossus one leap after the other until the leaves swallowed him whole, the old man vanishing from Hazelmere’s view.

The young girl watched, her mouth agape and her fists raised, flinching away when the leaves rustled.

Branches snapped, and leaves, frozen stiff from the wintry air, peppered her golden hair. Yarrow’s string bean-like body hurtled down next, to which Hazelmere yelped.

The half-elf held out her hand. Zephiriere! She cried.

Wind snaked from her fingertips onto the back of Yarrow’s cloak, holding him in place.

Hazelmere gasped and reeled her hand back, the old man landing softly atop the snow. The red, spiked fruit plummeted from the snapping mass of branches next, landing in his bony hand.

Yarrow grunted and rose, tossing the Sunfruit Hazelmere’s way.

“Ah-!” The girl fumbled with it before grasping it with both hands.

Hazelmere looked up when Yarrow tapped her with his staff again, meeting his gaze. Plastered on his face was a narrow smile.

“Well done, my girl,” the old man said, brushing the snow off his robes. “Ashencrane would be proud.”

“Not if you died!” Hazelmere argued.

Yarrow shook his head. “That fall wouldn’t have killed me.”

Hazelmere’s face grew so hot it burned. Without a word, she punted one of Yarrow’s thin legs.

Pain twisted Yarrow’s face, and he knelt, still clutching his staff. “Don’t be stupid!” He grunted. “Can’t you see? It was quick, but you cast that spell because you feared for my life.” He rose. “You depend on fear like most Zephys’ do.”

“Fear?” Hazelmere asked, a slew of mixed emotions welling inside her. She tilted her head. “Fear makes it work?”

Yarrow nodded. “Fear is in your nature in the same way rage is natural to a Terramancer, or like idiocy is to a Pyromancer. Answer me this: What scares you? Bugs? The dark, maybe? Jesters?”

Hazelmere looked down at the snow. “Losing everything,” she muttered.

Yarrow knelt before her, his face blank of expression. “In that case, I’ll tell you to remember what you’ve done today. Remember it well when you cast a spell.”

*********

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Sweat beads dripped down Hazelmere’s neck. The day had finally come when she had to defend someone, and she hadn’t the luxury of stopping herself.

Could she do it without hurting someone, just as she had those years ago? Perhaps not, but she had to try—Ayko had asked her to, after all.

“Stay there!” Ayko said to her and the gnashing colossus looming over them. He shoved his shield into the beast’s mouth when it snapped its jaw at him and, with a shout, shoved it away.

Ayko ripped his shield free and crashed to the ground when the Wolfcat’s paw met his chestplate. Blood sputtered from his lips and dribbled down his chin as he planted his hand onto the ground. He rose from the ground only for the beast to plant its paw on his back.

Ayko grimaced beneath the weight of the King’s claw, then twisted his face when it opened its jaws, the night sky's darkness burning away as flames crept to the edges of its mouth.

“Crap!” Ayko’s voice shrank, and his arms and legs flailing grew slow and sluggish. “Haze!” he rasped.

Hazelmere’s chest pounded, and she held out her hands, crossing her forearms. Zephiriere! She shouted.

Wind shot from the edges of the Half-elf’s palms, tearing through the Wolfcat’s flames and cleaving its face. Droplets of blood jumped from the corners of its lips, and the beast slid backward, leaving ruts in its wake.

The Wolfcat shook, chills bathing Hazelmere’s skin when its shrinking pupils met hers. “Wretch!” it barked.

Gritting its teeth, it hunched down and galloped in her direction while Ayko picked up his sword. With one swift slice, her friend hacked the beast’s tail, spewing blood onto the ground in turn.

Ayko twirled his sword, which dripped with blood. “Witless.”

The Wolfcat roared and stumbled forward. “Insects!”

It whirled around, missing a swipe of its paws as Ayko danced away and hacked his sword again.

Hazelmere looked away in disgust when the Wolfcat’s paw hurtled through the air and landed at her feet.

The Wolfcat crashed to the ground and lifted itself, only for Ayko to throw himself onto its neck next.

The young man dug his shield into the beast’s chin. “Haze!”

Hazelmere tore her gaze away from the Wolfcat’s severed paw and looked up.

”Strain muffled Ayko’s voice. “Work your magic again for me!”

Flames spewed from the edges of the Wolfcat’s locked jaws, its smoldering eyes burning into hers. Zephiriere,” she breathed.

Her heart sank when the wind crashed into a tree at her right, denting its trunk. “Not now,” she breathed.

The Wolfcat shook Ayko’s shield away and pried open its jaws. Its eyes flickered along with the back of its throat.

Incindiere!

Flames burst from its mouth and roared, narrowly missing Hazelmere as she jumped away. She winced from their heat, rows of flames swelling before her.

“Ayko!”

She held out her hand only to reel it back. A wall of flames loomed over her, blocking her way.

The Wolfcat shook itself again, throwing Ayko into the air. Opening its maw, it slammed its jaws shut when the young man landed inside and gulped, swallowing him whole, sword and all.

Hazelmere clasped her hands over her mouth and backed away.

“There is no escape, Shadowhand.” The Wolfcat stomped through the flames, eyeing her hungrily. “But I’ll allow you the same death as him.”

Hazelmere backed further away and readied herself. “Please hit!” She said, squeezing her eyes shut.

The Wolfcat stopped when she raised her hands, gasping and craning its neck. Its eyes bulged and then rolled to the back of its head before it tumbled onto the snow, a sword bursting from its back. Lodged onto its tip was the beast’s still-throbbing heart, and clutching the blade was a bloodied Ayko.

The young man climbed onto the beast’s back and stood on its head. Scrapes and burn markings decorated his face, while his cloak and sleeves were covered in holes.

Hazelmere blinked at him while Ayko beamed at her. “Consider it done!” He exclaimed, taking the Wolfcat’s heart into his hand.

Tears streamed down Hazelmere’s cheeks, and she threw her arms around him. “Wrong-headed, just as I said.”

Ayko squirmed in her embrace, his face red. “Come, now. You didn’t think I died, did you?”

“You’re the only one who wouldn’t!” Hazelmere protested.

Ayko clicked his tongue but threw his arms around her back. “Sorry,” he muttered. But anyway,” he said, changing the subject. “We can’t stand here hugging all day, we have to—”

Layered snarls echoed through the night-shrouded foliage, accompanied by shadowed shapes skulking through the brush. Wolfcats pounced from the trees, scores of them, their eyes fiery enough to turn the night to day. Froth bubbled from their mouths while steam poured from their nostrils.

“We’ve done enough,” Hazelmere said as Ayko reached for his sword. Seizing his arm, she released him when he ran with her.

Howls and roars chased behind the pair as they skittered through the brush, accompanied by the thunderous sound of hundreds of paws crunching through the snow.

Zephiriere! Hazelmere shouted. Wind arced at her sides, though she didn’t look back. Trees snapped behind her, harmonized by several yelps and whimpers.

Her chest loosened the longer she and Ayko ran, a weak smile tugging at her lips at the familiar sight of crumbled towers at her sides. Her smile fell, however, when a handful of shadows jumped from behind the monoliths.

She and Ayko skidded to a halt and huddled together, the Wolfcats clustering around them while snapping their jaws.

Ayko looked at her from the corner of his eye. “It’s them or us, Haze,” he said, unsheathing his sword and shield.

Hazelmere’s ears twitched, and she looked around, earning a queer look from Ayko. That sound, she thought. The fluttering of wings, it sounded like.

She shook and fell to her knees, covering her ears while the Wolfcats backed away.

“Haze?” Ayko looked down at her, confusion riddling his face.

A roar rang in Hazelmere’s ears, twisting her stomach and rattling her bones. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her teeth chattered.

Slowly raising her head, even Ayko gasped as he saw it—a beast as big as a mountain with red, glittering scales and spikes sharper than any blade. Its tail was as long as a river, and its wings were large enough to drape over every star in the sky, the trees bending like rubber with each flutter.

Hazelmere squeezed her eyes shut when she met its own, its eyes resembling the break of dawn.

Sweat dripped down Ayko’s face, but he squeezed his hand around his sword. “Is that…?”

“A Skyfiend,” Hazelmere muttered.

The Wolfcats whimpered and skittered into the trees while Ayko and Hazelmere watched it vanish into the clouds.

The half-elf gasped for breath and clutched her chest. “We need to find Yarrow now,” she said, her eyes pleading.

Ayko sheathed his sword and wrapped the King Wolfcat’s heart in a piece of his tattered sleeve. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”