"Tonight we raid! Tonight we pillage! Tonight we murder! Stand proud, brethren of mine; for your chief is with you tonight!" the orc on the wyvern preached.
"O, hail the great Took-ra! Hail the great Took-ra!" the rest of the orcs chanted the chief's name, raising their axes, hammers, and clubs high.
The orc on the wyvern was bigger than the rest, which was no small feat, considering the others were twice the size of an average man. While most of the orcs were green and yellow, the chief had red skin. They didn't wear armor or shields, but humble animal fur, sometimes stitched from different kinds due to their sheer size. Took-ra, their chief, was covered in war paint, his fur soaked in blood, and his giant tusks decorated with golden bracelets, as well as his ears with earrings. He wore the jewelry not as an accessory, but as spoils of war, so everyone could see how mighty he was. The rest of the orcs were more ordinary, to the point where you could hardly recognize one from another.
I needed to get close to the wyvern, but that was no easy task. I may have overestimated myself before, telling myself that it would not pose a threat, but on closer inspection, that thing was massive! Its claws dug deep into the roof, causing it to crumble, its blue scales looked harder than a castle wall, and its maw was full of sharp teeth that could easily chew metal. If only I had my former powers, then I would have a chance, but now I could only fly around it and hope it got bored and flew off. What was I to do against such a beast, while I was this weak?
The wyvern surveyed the scene and turned its attention toward me while I was in the air, its reptile eyes locking onto mine, and with a high-pitched roar, it flew into the air and came my way.
"Ugh, I guess there's no going back now."
While the wyvern was big and intimidating, due to its size, it was quite slow. With no particular strategy or weapon for that matter, I charged back at it full speed, hoping for the best. Its throat glowed brightly for a moment, and in the next, a surge of fire came my way. The heat was so intense that it burned my hand as I guarded my face, barely managing to avoid the attack. If I got caught in it, I would have been burned to a crisp, turning to nothing more than ash.
"Looks like we have ourselves a flying ant for dinner, Ultruk!" the orc spoke while the wyvern turned around and once more rushed toward me.
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The orc held the ropes around the creature's neck tightly with one hand, and with the other, his greataxe that was attached with a chain to his hand. The wyvern took higher to the skies, its body hovering above me, flying in circles. It was then that I realized, the scales on its belly grew thin, and anything sharp could easily pierce it.
I descended briefly in search of a sword or anything that could pierce the beast's belly. The battle raged on below in the streets of Emberfield, the villagers taking a defensive stance, hiding behind wooden barricades they had brought forward with pitchforks raised high. Among them stood Silas, a faint purple magical aura emanating from his lute, charming the orcs. It was a bloodbath; orcs fiercely fought each other, ignoring the villagers altogether. It was a blessing Emberfield had Silas; otherwise, most of the village would be slaughtered by now.
"Silas! I need something sharp! A sword or a spear of some sort! Do you see anything lying around?" I yelled while flying above him.
"Dear gods... Is that Seraphina's brat?" one of the villagers exclaimed in surprise.
"Are those wings?" the rest joined in.
So, the cat is out of the bag, huh? I just hoped that this revelation wouldn't cause too many problems for my family.
"Here, use this!" Silas yelled, tossing me an iron shortsword.
"Thank you! Oh, and behind you! One of the orcs seems to be shaking off the spell!"
"Oh, no you won't!" he turned around and started strumming his lute, charming the orc once more.
As the fire blazed through Emberfield and death lurked around every corner, the merry sound of the lute filled the air, offering solace and hope for a new dawn. Silas brought chaos to the ranks of orcs but stability to the hearts of the villagers. Victory seemed within reach, with one last obstacle remaining: the wyvern in the sky and its chief, Took-ra, a task solely left for me.
I approached the beast from behind and aimed to slip unnoticed beneath its belly. However, I had overlooked a crucial detail—the orc riding on the wyvern's back had eyes everywhere. I needed to eliminate him first.
"And so the flying ant returns! And with a weapon this time! I use these to pick my teeth!" the orc mocked.
Undoubtedly the weaker of the two, I needed to fight smart, not head-on. My agility became my greatest asset, compensating for my lack of power. I ascended into the skies, soaring above the enemy, concealed by the clouds. With a burst of speed, I descended upon the wyvern and its rider. My sole focus was dislodging the orc from the beast's back, sending him plummeting to his demise.
Took-ra noticed my approach, a wicked grin spreading across his lips as he swung a chain with an axe at its tip. He hurled it toward me, the speed of my descent making evasion impossible. The chain ensnared me, restricting my flight, as the axe narrowly missed. With a powerful pull, the orc yanked me toward him, preparing for the confrontation.
Struggling against the chains proved futile; they bound me tightly, rendering me powerless. Took-ra positioned my body on the wyvern's back, his foot and knee pinning down my arms as he drew me closer with a chain. His face loomed close to mine, emitting a foul stench as he uttered:
"I've never tasted flying human before!"