Alee stepped into Arascus’ office. Sara, Iliyal, Ilwin and Arascus were there, pouring over documents. Double checking the specs of the Raptor, making sure that nothing had been missed. It was only to kill time, there was nothing they could do at this point even if some mistake was to suddenly appear.

“What is it?” Arascus asked the maid.

“I’ve just been told to report to you. We got word from Arika. They’ve returned, success.”

Fer sat on the red soil of Artica. Artica had stolen more fuel than expected and the jets needed to quench their thirsts. “What do you think?” She asked Neneria. They had finally abandoned the Artican coats, Neneria had donned a black dress, Fer satisfied modesty with shorts and a shirt.

“What do you mean?”

“About Leona I mean.”

“I… don’t know. It was easy.”

Fer agreed with her sister. “It was.”

“It’s like… remember when we all together? The first two decades? It went like that.”

“We’ll get there yet.” Fer leaned back on her arms and watched the night sky. The stars here were different than the tundra. Brighter, and while it was cold, the air did not bite as much as it did in the North. The universe above was a black canvas, splashed with pale blues and whites where nebulas peered down onto the world and splattered with stars. Fer’s ears quivered, she sniffed the air, one of the men was coming. One of the pilots. She turned her head and watched the man approach.

For her and Neneria, it was rare. Kass had a gift to her which attracted people, Irinika did too. Fer didn’t like it, but that was just the way it was. You could not suddenly force men to not be scared of beasts, else they would not be beasts. The pilot approached, still in his black jumpsuit, a picture of a bird’s head over his breast. His helmet hung off his belt, complete with the inbuilt visor and rebreather. He had a camera in his hands and gingerly stepped forwards as if afraid to close the distance. “Come, come, I don’t bite.” Fer waved him closer.

“I do.” Neneria said and the pilot stopped. Fer giggled and waved her away.

“She doesn’t, come, what do you want?” The pilot looked down at his camera, then at the planes, there was a crowd around them, then back at Fer.

“I’m Douglas, Doug for short, pilot of Raptor-Two.” He began then showed off his camera. It was a huge thing, the sort Fer had only come across when documentarians tried to record in her tundra. “And…” He scratched his head.

Fer tried to help with his fright. “You’ve just gone to kill Gods and you’re scared of us?”

“Not scared.” He said. “Just, it’s a bit silly, I don’t want to pressure you or anything but…” He took a deep breath. “We wanted to take a picture with the whole crew. The Sorcerers agreed already and I thought… I didn’t want to leave you out.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Not a chance in Hell.” Neneria did not even turn to look at the man. Fer blinked, then a smile grew on her face. She stood up, almost twice the height of the man, her golden hair alone matched the man’s height in length.

“That is…” Fer thought of a word. “The most brilliant idea I’ve heard all day.” The man finally took a breath and burst out in laughter.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“I said we’re not doing it.” Neneria said quietly and Fer grabbed her arm. In powers, Of Death outmatched her utterly. In terms of physicality, the hierarchy flipped entirely.

“We’re doing it.” Neneria kept on moaning as Fer dragged her to the ground before the planes. “Make sure to send it to Dad, alright?”

“Of course, of course!”

“And print me a picture!”

“You will get the first one!”

“No planes lost, the parachutes weren’t even needed.” Iliyal commented as he flicked through the report. It was short words, but the tone was one of disbelief. “We’re free of her.”

Fer grabbed Edmonton and scooted him to the side. He was a tall boy for a human, and he blocked view of the other Raptor pilot: Erik. Fleur moved with him, how cute, they were holding hands. Fer knew they would be good for each other ever since she saw them when they first met her in that abandoned dwarven stronghold, although they kept to themselves generally. “Smile!” Doug shouted, he checked the camera one last time, gave the crowd a thumbs up and rushed forwards to fill in his own spot, in front of Neneria. “Thirty seconds! Or like twenty now! Smile!”

Fer put her arm around Nene’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Smile.”

“I hate you.” Neneria softly. Fer knew she didn’t mean it. The camera ticked down, it flashed and started to madly print out picture after picture. The ground crew cheered, Fer joined along and she even saw Neneria smile. Doug ran up to the camera, pulled out a knife from his jumpsuit and started slicing the chain of images. Fer broke from the rank and excitedly ran to the pilot.

“First one for you, as promised.” He looked away and started working quickly with the combat knife. “Goddess, can I ask something?”

Fer leaned down to pat the man’s back. It pushed him forwards, he grunted and almost stabbed himself. “Fer is enough.”

“Could you take a photo with me? I’d want to show it to the boys back home.” Fer burst out in laughter.

“Of course!”

Sara watched Arascus, Iliyal and Ilwin exchange stupid looks. The way men did when they did that thing were they telepathically spoke with each other. Arascus broke the silence. “So, we should organise a feast.”

“It does call for one.” Iliyal agreed.

“It is a big event.” Ilwin added.

And again, they shared that stupid look. Then the three of them looked at her.

Sara sighed. Frankly, it was better this way. They’d fuck it up somehow.

Fer lay on her back next to the campfire as men chatted away next to her. The Sorcerers were playing some boardgame, the ground crew was scrambling to fuel up the Pelican. She held the printed image above her. There she was, in the middle, smiling wide, fangs exposed. Neneria even had a good shot! She quirked a slight smile and even managed to look at the camera. The Sorcerers were in front them, smiling wide, the pilots on either side held their helmets. The ground crew and support teams flooded to each side and the three planes were in the background.

On the back, Fer had collected the signatures of everyone until they were spilling onto each other. Even Neneria had written her name in the corner. When people realised she was collecting signatures, the first few were embarrassed to ask for hers, until Doug finally broke the dam. Then a line had formed, Fer was more than happy to write her name a few dozen times over. It was only fair, they had all written theirs on hers. She ran her finger gently along the ink, careful not to smudge and turned it back around to look at everyone who had taken part in Operation Misfortune.

Brilliant!

It was prettier than the stars above.