Chest and limbs coated in a thick sheen of blood, Nameless sat back on his haunches and began to try and get some of the filth out of his fur. Keeping an eye on his sister and their surroundings both, he ran his tongue through the fur of his right foreleg, occasionally grimacing at the horrible taste of a mix of blood, sand, and soil.
[Want to share?] Quiet’s voice echoed in his head once more, forcing him to pause and give her his attention. Fangs still embedded in the Phiomia’s hide, she was staring at him over the throat of the downed beast, it still clinging to the last embers of life.
[No. Your. Kill. Eat. First. Later. Share.] He replied in the same stilted manner as his other siblings – though his words remained far more concise – staring back for a moment before resuming his cleaning.
By the time he had – somewhat – managed to clean what of his right leg he could reach, Quiet had finally been capable of releasing the fanged hold she had over her prey as the beast expired.
Her tongue flicked out around her mouth as she removed her jaws from the Phiomia’s hide, the skin surrounding it and her chin slick with blood, dyed in deep maroon and rich scarlet. The edges had already begun to dry under the oppressive heat of the Brothers above, creating a ring of reddened-brown around most of her lower face, forcing her to begin violently rubbing at her skin with the fur of her forelimbs.
Nameless chuckled, amused by the feelings of frustration Quiet radiated through their connection, [Eat. First. Clean. Later.]
She stopped her efforts in removing the filth stuck to her face and glared towards him, a thick lump of coagulated blood slowly sliding down the right side of her chin, [Then why can you groom yourself?]
[Simple. I. No. Eat. Now.] Nameless smirked, slowly – and a hint mockingly – raising his left paw to his mouth to begin cleaning the other limb.
Quiet huffed in irritation, obviously giving up on trying to cleanse herself of the blood that stuck to her skin and rose to her paws with a small hiss of discomfort. With a slight limp, she padded over the couple steps to the Phiomia’s chest and rested a paw against its ribs.
Pulling back her paw, Nameless watched Quiet’s claws part the dead beast’s hide, exposing the bright red flesh and muscle beneath. Blood welled up within the cuts, the liquid shining under the light of the suns above, a rich dark red.
Raising her paw once more to the top of her cuts, Quiet drew them down the same rents again to widen and deepen them further. She inspected the wound after the second pass – the exposed flesh glistening under a light it had never been revealed to, before this day – turning her head this way and that as her eyes roved over the Phiomia’s chest. Seemingly content, she placed her other forelimb on the beast’s body and lowered her head.
Quiet opened her jaws as wide as she could before burying her fangs into the top of the central strip of flesh her claws had created… and quickly yanked back. With both of her forelegs braced to either side – to give her more leverage – the flesh in her maw partially tore away with a wet *rip*, flecks of blood and meat flying through the air.
“There is only one way to get to the tender heart at the core of such a large creature…” Nameless mused, unconsciously licking at his lips, observing Quiet as she adjusted to tear the flesh away from the last stubborn strings of sinew that kept her from what lay beneath, “Through the hide and ribs.”
He and his siblings had learned well the steps necessary to get at – and recognize – the most nutritious organs of both beasts and monsters; learning by their mother’s paws, and experiencing themselves, the manners necessary to extricate such precious “fruits” straight from the flesh of their trees, without damaging their harvest’s succulent meat.
“Though knowing what to do and prior experience does not an easy time make.” With another yank, Quiet pulled away a large chunk of flesh, leaving a gaping wound in its absence. Still not large enough for her to get her head in and begin working at the beast’s ribs, she shifted to begin the process of ripping another piece of flesh away to widen the wound further.
As she lowered her head once more, Nameless looked away to survey their surroundings in detail, rather than the errant glances he had spared while grooming himself.
The dust kicked up by the stampeding Phiomia had finally settled, revealing the entirety of the chaotic aftermath formerly hidden under its dark cloud.
A great many Phiomia lay dead or gravely wounded – trampled or attacked by some of their own in the panic – their bodies broken and bleeding. Wounded and dead alike were covered in a fine layer of settled sand and debris, the injured crying out through their mangled trunks and torn throats in a final desperate plea for help, barely recognizable from the shattered and disfigured corpses of the kin surrounding them.
Blood, viscera, and overturned soil transformed the once grass cover bar of land – that had separated the stone spire and dried river – into nothing more than a lifeblooded quagmire, the ground now nearly devoid of plant life and boggy with soaked gore.
“Not ideal conditions to run or even walk in…” Nameless thought, following a straggled group of Phiomia as a few struggled to remove their feet from some of the cloying ichorus mud, before moving on to a significantly more… demanding sight of interest, “nor fight.”
Beyond the last dying cries of the wounded laid about the strip of land, came a duo of strident calls and deep roars. Fang and a large Phiomia – standing a full shoulder above her in height – stood apart from one another, poised to join in what appeared to be an additional bout of conflict.
They were both wounded, but Fang considerably more so; his sister’s right paw was held up against her chest, the wing of the same side bent awkwardly at one of its higher joints, and blood ran freely from a wound stretching from her temple to hairline. The Phiomia on the other claw only had superficial wounds from what he could see, some cuts across the beast’s forelegs, chest, and neck dripping thin trails of blood down its hide.
“Why are Greye and the Twins not joining her?” Behind Fang – a few of his lengths away – were Greye, both Twins, and the shredded corpse of what was obviously their chosen prey from the initial ambush.
The Twins laid across their prey languidly; one chewing on a long chunk of meat, while the other’s head was buried within a ragged hole in the corpse’s lower abdomen, completely ambivalent to their sister’s situation.
Greye however…
Even from this distance Nameless could see the tension stretched across his brother’s body, every part of his stance radiating his desire to leap to their sister’s aid at a moment’s notice… However, even with such an obvious desire to join in, he just remained in place between Fang and the Twins, glaring balefully at the Phiomia.
“She either directly refused his help or told him to stay away.” Nameless concluded with no small amount of frustration and disappointment, “That over-confidence and pride of hers is going to see her maimed or killed one day…”
His sister abruptly charged forward, despite the – by all appearances – near debilitating injuries, her gait uneven and unsteady, “Or maybe she will learn today instead.”
He watched dispassionately as his fool of a sibling sprinted directly towards the Phiomia that had already injured her so, the beast itself almost appearing as surprised at the decision as Nameless himself was. However, the beast’s shock only lasted an instant – unlike his own – before, to Fang’s misfortune, it too charged forward.
The large Phiomia released a great bellow from its short trunk, its feet audibly pounding against the ground, making its challenge clear.
Fang roared in reply, her face glowing with a frenzied excitement, picking up speed. The space between them closed further, her desire to join the beast in conflict growing so great that Nameless watched her begin to go so far as to use her injured limb, despite the pain it openly caused her, to go even faster.
“Fool.” Nameless hissed in his thoughts, rising to his paws, the outcome of her mistake obvious to his eyes.
In much the way he expected, Fang’s leg folded under her – just as the Phiomia’s that Quiet and himself had taken down had – the weight of her body too much for the limb to support, tearing a pain-wracked yowl from her throat and sending her tumbling over herself… directly towards her charging opponent.
Lowering its head, the large beast’s charge took it slamming into Fang’s tumbling form with a bone shattering *crunch*, contemptuously smashing her aside. Flung away at a flick of the Phiomia’s head, Nameless watched his sister careen unconsciously through the air, spinning wildly end over end as she rapidly approached the ground once more.
With yet another concerning *crack* Fang met soil, bonelessly rolling over herself as the momentum carried her a non-inconsiderable distance beyond the point of her… “landing.”
Though for all her foolishness lending to her ending up this way, it appeared to Nameless that she, at the very least, had luck on her side; as her roll took her to a stop only a few paces behind and away from the Twins and Greye, form still and silent.
The Twins were up on their paws, prey and laziness forgotten, fur and feathers puffed up as they snarled hatefully at the Phiomia. Greye released a rumbling growl that Nameless almost felt vibrating in his bones even from the distance between them, his brother’s eyes filled with a palpable fury as his exposed fangs gleamed in the Brothers’ light.
With Greye standing guard the Twins approached their downed sister; while the beast responsible for her condition paced back and forth, releasing calls of frustration and agitation, shaking its head aggressively side to side with its ears and tail wildly flicking against its hide.
“It wants to finish her off, even if it has no idea if she is still alive or not.” Nameless could tell however – through the string of [Telepathy] that still connected them – that Fang was alive, unconscious and certainly wounded, but alive.
Greye could likely feel the same, attached through Nameless’s own telepathic web just as Fang was, and was probably the only reason he stayed put, rather than fight the Phiomia himself, “The Twins are the least adept of all of us at combat, and the risk that the Phiomia might get a chance at them or Fang while he is fighting with it is quite high.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Smart of him.” Nameless approved, watching his brother stalk between the Phiomia and his siblings, keeping them separate, instead of rushing to conflict.
It was also yet another reminder of how wrong he was to refer to his siblings’ manner of thought as just some basic instinctual thing, after his awakening. The Phiomia that continued to stomp about, desperate to kill his sibling despite its obvious inability to reach her, providing the perfect example of what a real instinctual creature was.
“They are, and were, more than just beasts dominated by instinct, unable to be or do anything beyond fulfilling the basest of impulses.” He looked towards his remaining siblings, Shiver and Shade, only a few leaps away from the others, “Instincts were only a part of their thoughts – just as they are mine – but they were not all that occupied them. They each have an identity, a unique signature that I feel every time I connect with them through [Telepathy], a mind as vibrant as I would consider my own.”
Shade remained with his prey, focus entirely consumed by the Phiomia in front of Greye, his body tensed in bated anticipation while Shiver approached the Twins, “My mistake was in comparing my mind, changed by [Preternatural Wisdom], to their own. I was incapable of realizing that the flexibility and ephemeral nature of my siblings’ thoughts, were not for any lack of intelligence or greater awareness of self… but a sign of their youth and inexperience, proof of the fledgling nature of their blooming minds.”
Nameless’s eyes panned over all his siblings now – more or less – arrayed before the beast, Shiver now standing beside the Twins, head bowed over Fang as she seemed to check her sibling over, “A youth that I now so lack, with a “Wisdom beyond my years…””
The close presence of yet another Sphinx added a layer of hesitance to the Phiomia’s aggression; its pacing halting, but the continued flicks of its ears and tail displaying that its fury had yet to abate. It stomped and scraped at the ground, as it began a slow and reluctant retreat backwards, shaking its head and releasing strident angered calls in an open effort to keep his closest siblings from pursuing.
Not that his siblings could risk pursuing anyway.
The Phiomia was an awkwardly large size and powerful – at the peak of the Second Stage as far as Nameless could tell – meaning there were only a few ways it could possibly be fought against. One way was like Fang had tried and failed at; fighting it alone, trying to avoid its attacks and utilize the size difference against it to either kill it slowly and safely, or risk going for something vital to end it quickly. Another would have been through the initial ambush which, obviously, was no longer possible. With the final path – as far as Nameless could think of – was to hunt it down as a group.
“Which I’m sure my siblings are aware won’t work either, their having insights through [Tactics] like myself or not…” With the benefits of its size, Stage, and what little intelligence it did have, any combination of his siblings working together to fell the beast would be met with a great deal of difficulties and risks, “Use the strongest there – Greye, Shiver, and Shade – and that means trusting the Twins with protecting Fang, where all it would take is one successful charge for the Phiomia to reach them, and possibly kill any number of the three.”
Any other combination would run the risk of similar complications; if all of his siblings chose to work together, they would leave Fang defenseless, and so many Sphinx all fighting a single beast would lend to a high possibility of injuries or death in the scrum, while if they took one of the stronger fighters amongst his siblings and had them defend Fang instead… Nameless feared that the same problems would yet arise.
“Which just leaves one choice.” Even retreating Nameless could see the Phiomia wasn’t done with his siblings. While it heeded its intrinsic survival instincts – giving ground and increasing the space between his siblings and itself – the Phiomia’s every shake, snort, call, and step along the way displayed that it was still far too enraged for any of their safety.
Nameless shifted, the movement causing the beast and he to share a look. He sensed the anger behind those dark eyes change subtly, the realization that there were two Sphinx isolated from the rest of their pride – offering a new path for it to… alleviate its anger on those that had attacked its herd and kill its kin – sharpening its fury down to the two more accessible Sphinx.
Having caught its attention, the beast already beginning to adjust itself in his direction, Nameless reached out to what siblings he had connections with.
[Careful. Danger. Focus.] Causing her to remove her head from the chest cavity it was buried in, he warned Quiet, before extending another message to her, Greye, Shiver, and Shade, [Prey. Mine. Cover.]
Through the tenuous link that still remained between them at this distance, he felt Shade’s apathetic acceptance, before Shiver and Greye followed hesitance lacing their acknowledgment of his desires, “Though by the feel, the cause of their hesitance could not be any more different; Greye is worried that I will get hurt, while Shiver just wants to join in on the fight…”
He shook his head with a snort, discarding any further extraneous thoughts as the Phiomia turned to face him directly.
The beast was nervous, constantly throwing glances towards where his siblings remained, even in spite of its obvious intentions to fight and kill him.
“Seems I will have to make the first move then…” Nameless roared and flared his wings out wide, immediately causing the Phiomia’s head to whip around to him. With its attention, he growled deeply and lowered himself for a charge, scratching at the ground with his right claw to goad the beast.
The Phiomia answered his taunts with a display of aggression all of its own; rearing, releasing a harsh bellow through its trunk, and slamming down onto the ground with a heavy *thump*. It shook its head wildly as it lowered, body tensing for its own charge, digging a wide foot into the soil with its eyes glaring into Nameless’s.
He couldn’t help the grin that split his face, his body buzzing with anticipation, every muscle across his form tensed and ready.
His focus narrowed down to just himself and the Phiomia ahead, taking in every shift and twitch of the beast, when – near simultaneously – both charged the other.
Nameless bolted forward like a bird startled from the brush, nothing but a violent streak of fur and feathers. He felt the soil crumble under his paws, the force of his steps causing a shock to judder up his each of his limbs, shaking him from bone to flesh.
While a portion of his mind worked with [Tactics], creating a plan to fell the charging Phiomia, the rest of his being devoted itself to making sure that his every step followed that path ahead.
Nameless felt every movement, every twitch of his muscles, every breath, in deafening clarity, his focus narrowing down until all that remained was his next step. His heart beat within his ears, the sound unfurling in his mind with a thunderous peal that proceeded a deluge of energy flowing through his body, like the sky opening up with pouring rain.
He roared in exultation, his speed increasing, every movement coming to him all the easier under the attentions of whatever Skill had bloomed within him.
In the face of Nameless’s roar the Phiomia’s instincts seemed to realize something had changed, its devotion to its charge faltering, hesitation causing its heavy steps to fall less assured.
However it was far too late for it to stop itself so suddenly now.
Its momentum carrying it on, the Phiomia shook its head and released a loud snort through its trunk, the hesitation Nameless had spotted being replaced – with every tremorous step – by its anger once more.
Nameless watched the Phiomia’s every movement, taking in each detail of its body in motion and adjusting his own for the only way he could see of killing the beast. Mind racing – evaluating, adjusting, and preparing – he ignored the growing shaking of the ground as the beast’s prodigious bulk grew closer, neglected to give attention to the way the suns shone against its tusks, and disregarded the manner that their heaving breaths began to fold into one another like the growing roar of a coming storm.
He only had one chance of felling the beast quickly… and he would let nothing distract him from succeeding.
Nameless snapped his wings out to either side, abruptly forcing his speed to slow, much to the displeasure of his feathered limbs. He threw his body to the right, pivoting as he landed to face the Phiomia once more and tensed his muscles for a leap – feeling as every individual fibre of muscle bunched and twisted below his skin.
The Phiomia tried to adjust its charge, even with what little distance remained between them, the sudden change from its opponent being directly ahead of it to nearly at its side causing panic to flicker behind its eyes.
But Nameless wasn’t going to give the beast even the hint of a chance to turn this fight of theirs in its favor.
He leapt at the Phiomia, with a bat of his wings for extra height, slamming into it with enough force to cause it to stumble. His claws dug into the beast’s thick hide; those on his right latching under its shoulder blade, his left wrapping under the base of the Phiomia’s wide neck, and his hind legs resting against the beast’s left leg.
As the Phiomia began to buck under him, Nameless shifted, digging his claws in further and biting down on the nape of its neck for extra support. He pressed himself as close as he could against the beast’s body, hanging on desperately as it tossed itself around to try and throw him off, releasing blaring calls into the air that threatened to leave him deaf.
With a growl Nameless burrowed his fangs deeper into the beast’s neck, feeling the muscles within tense and press against his teeth, warm blood filling his mouth and coating his tongue. He raked his feet against the Phiomia’s side and leg, feeling the tough flesh jerkily part under his claws, blood spilling between his toes, wetting its fur and padded undersides.
His attacks forced an ear-splitting squeal filled with pain, anger, and fear, from the beast’s trunk, its efforts to throw him off increasing in ferocity and desperation.
While continuing to savage its side with his hind claws, Nameless braced against the beast once again, digging both claw and tooth into the hide underneath like moles through soil. He growled a second time, shaking his head side to side, worrying his fangs deeper into the meat of the Phiomia’s neck as he put his left paw to work.
As deep as they were in the beast’s throat, he could feel its frantic heartbeat thrum up through his claws, its wild pace entwining with that of his own, spurring the exhilaration that set his blood alight to euphoric heights.
Eyes glassy with excitement, Nameless’s lips pulled back revealing a bloody grin; he flexed the muscles in his back and arm, violently ripping his paw across the Phiomia’s throat – claws jarringly scrapping over its trachea – in a veritable flood of arterial blood.
“It is done.” He thought, the Phiomia releasing a wet and defeated cry as it reared up on its hind legs.
Even with the Phiomia rising to stand fully on its back legs; Nameless continued to cut away with his own and open the rent in its throat further with another pass of his claws, endeavoring to do as much damage to the beast as possible, before it inevitably fell to the ground once more.
The moment he felt gravity begin to reassert itself on him and the beast, he made one more passing slice before harshly ripping out both fang and claws, bodily flinging himself away from the Phiomia with a flap of his wings.
Strings of blood followed him through the air, his backwards leap causing him to awkwardly slam into the upturned soil on his back. In a spray of soil, he rolled over – quickly scrambling to his feet – as a *boom* resounded through air and ground, followed by a rolling wave of dust.
Nameless remained in place, even holding his breath to make himself completely silent, waiting for the dust to clear. His body was tense – in case he needed to dodge – as even while he was sure that the battle was finally at its end… he wouldn’t fully believe it was over until the Phiomia were dead under his paws.
As he waited in silence, the dust began to clear, slowly revealing a scene that allowed Nameless to breathe in relief.
The Phiomia wasn’t so much standing as it was crouched, left leg folded beneath it; the limb covered in a stream of blood and gaping wounds, strips of hanging flesh and raggedly cut hide, with the still twitching muscles once hidden beneath the skin exposed to the world.
Nameless had managed to make the leg lame, an action to prevent pursuit by the beast in the case that his main plan failed. However, as his eyes traveled to the Phiomia’s neck, he knew there was no need to fear any sort of reprisal from the beast.
From the nape of its neck down flowed blood from a mangled set of puncture wounds, the trickling trails of liquid scarlet shinning against the Phiomia’s muted hide, before being lost amongst a lake of gore. Like a waterfall, blood poured from the beast’s throat, every wheeze and gurgled call causing it to foam like the wild white rapids of a flood.
Below it grew a darkening puddle of its lifeblood, every slowing beat of its heart causing yet more of the vital fluid to splatter across the ground. Its body shook with a growing weakness, every rasping breath a further step closer to its death, the beasts low hung head growing evermore buried into the soil as it became unable to support its own weight.
Nameless’s eyes met the Phiomia’s own, their dark hue deepening as its focus wavered and mind began to fail, its body slumping down further with every wettened breath. There was no more fight behind its eyes, the few calls it still yet tried to make holding a sorrowful tone… the beast, was defeated.
Now he had but wait for death to make its claim.