“Who dares enter the territory of the Magpie King?”

Birds rose out of the trees, so thick and dense that they blacked out the sun. Their shadow eclipsed Ike and Wisp. The beat of their wings pulsed against their skin and rattled the surface of the water. The envelope of the parachute trembled with their wingbeat, threatening to collapse in on itself.

“Storm Clad!” Ike shouted. The storm swirled around him. Wisp flinched back, her grip slipping. Ike pushed it over her as well, pulling her into the eye of his storm. It raged around both of them, flickering, flashing, raining and howling.

Ike threw his hand up. He pushed the technique’s winds into the envelope, forcibly inflating it. The parachute hung for a second, then inflated, pulling up to its full, bulbous shape once more.

The birds cried out. They dashed toward the envelope, their eyes flashing with deadly light. Their beaks jutted toward the delicate silk. Those who had blunt beaks bared their claws.

“Wisp, they’re coming!”

She scowled. Grabbing him tight, she threw her other hand toward the far shore. “Lower your storm! Give me a shot!”

Ike hesitated. How? How do I lower my storm? I can push it over things, and widen it, but I don’t know how to cut it back.

“Come on, Ike! Give me an opening! My thread isn’t that heavy. You’ll whip it away if I try,” she complained.

“I know! I just… I’m figuring it out!” Ike tensed, then grimaced. I’m not going to puzzle this out in time. If I sit here and try, we’ll lose the envelope long before I manage to create a hole in Storm Clad for Wisp. He released Storm Clad for a second. “Go now!”

Wisp threw her hand out. A dart of thread whirled to the edge of the river.

A bird swooped out of the sky and grabbed the thread.

“Fuck off!” Wisp flicked her wrist, pulling the bird to her. It tried to escape, but the thread stuck to its feet. Wisp pulled it to her, then caught it.

Ike looked at the bird, then Wisp. The bird, too, looked at Wisp, lost more than anything. He frowned. “What now?”

Wisp opened her mouth and stuffed the live bird inside. Horrible crunching and squelching sounded out for a moment, and then she swallowed.

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“I don’t know why I asked.” Ike activated Storm Clad again before their parachute could fall completely to the ground. But there was nothing he could do about the oncoming birds. In the final second, he tried to push Storm Clad into the parachute. The skill climbed up the connecting threads, coating them with lightning, then fizzled. Ike frowned. He pushed more aether into it, but it only made the Storm Clad stronger. He couldn’t push it any further. It was already at its limits, just covering the connecting threads. He couldn’t surround the whole envelope with his spell. It was too large.

The birds struck the envelope’s thin thread. They tore into it, attacking it with beaks and claws. Holes opened up in the delicate surface. The translucent white material opened wide, turning into lace as the birds tugged and scratched its surface.

Ike grimaced. “Wisp!”

“Lower your storm again!”

His grimace deepened, but he obeyed. This time, she shot out a dozen threads at all different heights and angles. A handful of birds split off and intercepted the threads, but they couldn’t stop them all. A few of the threads found the trees on the other side. Wisp yanked, pulling them toward the forest.

Ike leaned out. He threw another knife at the birds. They temporarily scattered, only to dart back in. Ike grimaced and threw again. Once more, he only drove them away for a moment. This time, they realized he was only throwing knives, and barely scattered. The few direcly threatened by the blade left, but the rest continued attacking the envelope.

Wisp gritted her teeth. She dragged them toward the far shore, one pull at a time.

The envelope jolted. Part of it collapsed, and it lurched toward the river.

“How much longer?” Ike asked, readying another knife.

“Longer than we have!” Wisp replied.

Ike threw another knife. One of the larger birds darted out of the air and caught the knife. It called mockingly and dropped his knife into the river. The other birds continued to work, tearing apart the parachute. Little of it remained. Only a few small sections clung together, and those were held by threads.

He pulled out another knife, but before he could fire it off, the last threads snapped. The envelope gave out. They plunged toward the massive river.

“Hold on tight and hold your breath!” Wisp shouted.

“Got it!”

The water rushed up at them. Ike took one last big breath, and then they plunged into the churning waters.

The birds circled overhead. They watched the waters, searching for Ike and Wisp.

Nothing resurfaced. Not even a bubble.

Doggedly, they continued to circle. Shadows swirled around the sky. Their wings churned the clouds and called the winds. Lower and lower they circled, approaching the dark waters.

Abruptly, the birds parted. A huge shadow appeared where they had been, massive wings spread wide. The figure coasted to the floor and alighted on the earth, their shape shifting to that of a boy in white robes and a red coat with wide sleeves. He paced the shore. Dark eyes tracked the dark water, and he tucked his hands into his sleeves. All at once, he laughed.

“Do you think they survived?”

The birds cawed. They swirled, spinning into a riot.

“Ha. One way or another, they’ll come to me.” The boy spread his arms. His form blurred. Broad wings took the place of his hands, and he flapped into the sky.

“I’ll wait for them in the Valley of Bones. If they survive, if they make it there… they’ll have to face me.”

He smiled. A cawing laugh filled the air.

“I’ll be waiting.”