Silence weight down their shoulders as the air went still. The heavy atmosphere reminded them of the time they first fought against Arachne as a familiar sensation prickled down their spines.
“That's an elite,” Circe’s voice barely made a sound, too soft to break the ice, but loud enough that Zeke acknowledged her statement with a slow nod. “Remember, a named elite is stronger than normal elites.”
“...Yeah,” Zeke responded quietly. “But…why isn't it moving?”
Despite the time that's passed, Nasrin remained still, staring at them calmly as if it saw no threat in its enemies.
“This feeling…” Circe’s thoughts rushed through her mind as she silently debated whether she should use the chance to attack the monster while it refused to move. “It's similar to when I fought against bosses…But I'm sure this guy is only an elite. Does a named elite also give the same pressure…?”
Nasrin’s gaze suddenly flickered towards Circe’s. As their eyes met, she unknowingly felt her shoulders relax. “No,” much to Zeke’s surprise, Circe put away her daggers, letting her empty hands fall defenselessly to her side. “It's the presence of the strong…even stronger than Arachne and Rokan combined.”
“...I don't know how, but,” Circe turned to see Zeke’s bewildered expression. “Nasrin isn't an elite, it's a boss.”
“You're not…we’re not going to fight it?” Despite the quiver in his voice, Zeke managed to keep what remained of his composure, though refused to let his staff go and remained vigilant of the monster before them.
“No, from the look of things, it doesn't want a fight either,” Circe gestured towards Nasrin with her chin. “But even if we do decide to fight it and give up a limb or two, we’d still lose. It's way too strong for our current selves.”
Much to both their surprises, Nasrin nodded in response. “That is correct,” even more surprising, it—she began to speak. As Nasrin lowered her head, she continued. “I apologize for startling you, Otherworlders. My name is Nasrin, the leader of the Weisswynn Tribe.”
“Hello Nasrin,” Circe gave the bird a friendly smile, seeing Zeke put his staff away from the edge of her vision. “I'm Circe, and that guy's Ezekiel. Why did you come all the way over here?”
Nasrin straightened herself. “After sensing your presence, I’ve been watching you two since your battle against the Aqualin Tribe. As I’ve confirmed your strengths, I decided that you two shall be the chosen warriors to liberate us from this endless cycle.”
At that point, both Circe and Zeke expected the system to show them some kind of quest panel. But after a few seconds of silence, nothing came up.
Zeke decided to speak, brows slightly creased. “Hold on…Miss Nasrin, can you explain more? What’s this about liberation?”
Nasrin’s eyes widened as confusion flickered across her face. “I assumed that you two knew about us when you entered this place. Is it that you stumbled upon the Aviary by accident?”
“I wouldn't call it an accident…but yeah, we have no idea what you're talking about.”
Hearing Zeke’s reply, Nasrin turned her head towards the gate she’d broken through. “Alright, then follow me,” she didn't wait for the two to respond and walked forward. “A hundred years ago, an ancient aviankin sought to take over our land.”
Without much of a choice, Circe and Zeke exchanged a glance before following Nasrin into the next room. Nothing differed from the ruined wasteland before, but they soon noticed the worn, stone statue of an armored aviankin standing in the middle.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Nasrin came to a stop in front of the statue, staring up at the bird’s stoic, lifeless expression. “This ancient aviankin, whom we have thought perished along with his kind, called himself ‘Tarren’. He called forth storms and wind, destroying everything in his path. He threatened us that we either stand beneath or against him, and those who chose the opposition will die by his talons.”
As Zeke and Circe got closer, Nasrin took a step to the side, allowing them to see the plate mounted to the statue’s foundation. “In honor of the great warrior, Corvus Blackwing of the Noxus Tribe, the Feller of the Thunder Tyrant…” Zeke read aloud with eyes narrowed into a slit.
“Corvus was the last remaining member of his tribe,” Nasrin explained, a hint of forlorn longing reflected in her keen eyes. “He came to Weisswynn for refuge while swearing to take revenge for his family. We were already part of the resistance, so we gladly accepted him into our tribe.”
As Nasrin spoke, Circe and Zeke examined the aviankin statue more closely. Blackwing stood tall and proud with his talon hands opened by his sides, lacking any form of weaponry. His wings spreaded past his broad shoulders, a strong posture that radiated the aura of a hero in fairytales.
“We’ve fought many battles upon gathering our forces. Having to cleave our talons and blades through our own kind had caused us much misery, though Corvus always pushed through without hesitation, he told us that: ‘They had forfeited their rights as citizens the moment they became soldiers, and as soldiers, they are no more than enemies needed to be killed’.”
While Nasrin didn't have a human face, Circe still managed to see the glint of a smile in her eyes. “You seem to admire him a lot.”
“Yes, I do. We all do. He was a hero, after all, our hero…But in the end, he sacrificed his life to put an end to Tarren’s reign of terror,” Nasrin looked up at Corvus’ statue once more, this time, her expression went dark. “...If only our peace could last forever.”
Nasrin turned to face the two of them, the look in her eyes sent shivers down their spine. Even though she bore no malice towards them, they still managed to feel her rage. “Many tribes that followed Tarren only did so out of fear, and they returned to coexisting with us when the war ended. However, there were lunatics that got drunk on the taste of power. They sacrificed thousands of aviankins and revived Tarren.”
“...And this is where Tarren is?” Zeke asked in a quiet voice, to which Nasrin responded with a nod.
“Yes, after his resurrection, he tore our continent apart and left only his devoted followers alive,” Nasrin looked down at her talons. “We…we did not survive, but Tarren knew that our tribe had put up the most resistance, and that we were the ones who assisted Corvus in his quest to slay Tarren. That bastard killed half my people and left the rest of us in this state; neither alive, nor dead.”
“Ah,” Circe glanced towards Zeke, noticing that he also looked at her. “So that's why we didn't get any EXP when we killed those eagles. They're like ‘ghosts’ in a way.”
“You could say that,” Nasrin nodded. “Though if I may ask…What is this EXP thing that you're talking about?”
“Uh…” Circe pursed her lips, but quickly spoke a moment later. “It's a human thing, you don't need to worry about it.”
Nasrin stared at her for a second. “Ah, alright…” She continued, glancing towards Zeke. “As I’ve told you before, I’d like for the two of you to slay the resurrected Tarren. I will be assisting you in battle, of course, but since your current selves are far too weak, I will train you myself.”
Zeke frowned. “But we can't stay here for too long since we have somewhere else to be.”
Circe nodded with worry. “Yeah, even if time moves a lot slower than on the outside world, we can't possibly get stronger in such a short time.”
“Well, of course I cannot train you to perfection with so little time,” Nasrin crossed her arms. “I will at least increase your strength so you won't simply be dead weight when we fight Tarren. Do you wish to know the real reason why I decided to put my one and only attempt at escape on you two?”
Even though none of them replied yet, Nasrin answered anyway, pointing towards Zeke with her talons. “Despite being male, that human somehow has the power of a witch coursing through his veins. With his magic, we have a chance at victory.”
Hearing that, both their eyes widened with bewilderment. Zeke pointed at himself, while Circe pointed at him.
“Me?”
“Him!?”
“Why are you surprised?” Nasrin crooked her head, eyes landing on Circe. “As his partner, should you not know your own teammate’s capabilities?”
“Well, yes,” Circe shrugged. “I know that Zeke can adapt quickly to magic, but he's our key to victory? I find it hard to wrap my head around that.”
Zeke narrowed his eyes on her. “...Are you making fun of me right now?”
Circe responded with a soft smile. “If that's what you think, sure.”
Nasrin swiftly drew their attention back to her with a cough in her fist. “...There's another reason for my choice,” she looked at Circe, more specifically, her gaze landed on the Darkwing Mantle draped around her shoulders. “I believe it is fate that I get to meet someone who possessed one of Corvus’ items. That cape you're wearing, Circe, do you know that it's in its incomplete state?”
“Ah,” Circe glanced behind her, staring at the Darkwing Mantle. “Yes, I do know that I’d need some other items to unlock its full potential…” she turned back. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
Nasrin’s gaze landed on Corvus’ statue, a hint of a smile returning to her expression. “Practically nothing, but I’d like to believe that my dear friend has shown me the light once more.”