The dim light of the luminescent fungi was replaced as a fiery inferno tore through the air. Jasper screamed in pain as the ball of fire surrounded him, not from the fire which surged uselessly around his form, but the brilliant flash of light that blinded him like a flash-bang. But at least he was not the only one to suffer.

The matriarch, whose jaws of death had clamped tight around his torso, was not so fire-proof. The bird screeched in pain as the inferno washed over her, releasing her grip on him. He plummeted to the cavern floor below, still blinded from the light, as a truly deafening shriek rose above the fray. The bird’s sonic attack rebounded off the chamber’s ceiling with enough force to smash back into him, sending him spinning sideways across the room.

He landed hard on the rock-strewn floor, and his shoulder crunched painfully as he staggered to his feet, but he ignored it. Time seemed to slow as he waited for the dark spots across his vision to clear, but the matriarch wasn't waiting.

The cavern floor shook as the enormous beast flailed and, though he could not see it, Annatta clung to its neck, stubbornly trying to rack up enough piercing to activate a backstab that would cut through its thick, smoldering plumage.

He was thrown to the ground again as one hideous shriek after another rent the air, the cave vibrating so much that it seemed like the very walls would tumble down. Jasper smashed face-first into the ground, the blood trickling from his ears as the relentless cries washed over him, but his vision begin to return and, with it, his presence of mind. I've got to cast the spell.

The bird’s relentless screams did their best to drive every cogent thought from his mind, but Jasper clung to his goal obdurately, pulling the unwilling essence to his fingers and releasing it. Hand of Judgement.

As soon as the essence left him, he could feel the drop in temperature around him. The cavern air, superheated by the explosion, plummeted rapidly as, with a concussive boom, a large rip was torn through the fabric of reality.

The cries of the bird fell silent, as the great matriarch turned to face the strange new threat.

The ophan’s hand thrust through the opening, its flesh blackened and smoldering like charcoal. With a twist of its hand, the gap tore open further, and the being emerged fully. Its metallic wings shifted back and forth, as the wind that poured from the rip whistled through its feathers with an eerie cry. Unconcerned with the bird, the great eye turned to its gaze on its master, Jasper.

“What is your wish, my lord?” it asked as before.

His head was still ringing from the bird's screams, but he managed to choke out the two simple words the being needed. "Help me."

The words were barely out of his mouth when the ophan flicked its wrist, casting a spell. In an instant, he was dragged across the cavern floor toward the guardian, where unseen hands lifted him up to stand beside the strange being. Jasper winced in unexpected pain as the ophan placed one of his charcoal hands on his shoulder, as the fires of the hand somehow broke through his immunity, scorching him, but the pain was washed away as soon as it came. A surge of essence flooded through him and, in seconds, every wound in his body, every broken bone and ruptured vessel, were knit back together.

He gasped as the hand lifted from his shoulder, removing the flood of revitalizing essence from him. And then the Ophan blurred into motion, shooting across the cavern floor to bridge the gap with the matriarch. It spun in a tight circle much like his Seraph's Burst, and its razor-sharp metallic wings scored a dozen wounds across the neck of the matriarch, shredding through her plumage like paper. But the great dorēsah was not as easily defeated as the Moon-kissed captain had been.

A full-throated scream erupted from its mouth, hitting the Ophan squarely in the chest. Its feet dug into the ground as the being was pushed back, its wings blown astray from their target, but when it turned to face the matriarch, the Ophan's fiery eye looked little more than annoyed. It lunged forward again, smashing into the bird, who met its attack with razor-sharp talons. Clouds of steam boiled over the surface of the Ophan’s skin as the charcoal flesh was torn open, and Jasper, not daring to wait around anymore, rejoined the fray.

Calling the short sword Arutû had given him into his hands, he cast Seraph’s Burst. He streaked across the cavern floor, raking his sword and wings across the back of the bird’s hindlimbs. Her left talon lashed out, narrowly missing him as he passed, and he landed hard beyond her, another spell already on the tips of his fingers.

He whipped the Scourge of Despair through the air, slamming the spectral weapon into the matriarch’s singed plumage. But the spell failed to summon the specters as the whip cut harmlessly into her feathers, failing to draw even a single drop of blood with which to call the ghosts. A pillar of fire blew past his ear as the Ophan roared past him, and the cavern descended into chaos.

From then on, Jasper had no time to think, no time to plan his next moves, or even to keep track of his allies. Every ounce of his focus was poured into simply surviving, pure instinct taking over as he dodged and weaved between the flurry of blows that the enraged dorēsah threw his way, only stopping briefly to fire off a spell whenever he was given a chance. The matriarch was more powerful than he had expected; perhaps, on her own, she could have even fought the Ophan to stand still, but, mighty though she was, could not fend all of them off at the same time.

Even then, she still likely could have escaped the battle if she had just fled, but the bird refused to do so, stationing herself in front of the crevice that guarded the path to her brood and fighting with a vicious intensity. But that only sealed her fate. Unable to avoid the barrage of blows, spells, and arrows that came her way, with a final, keening wail the bird breathed its last. Silence fell over the cave then, broken only by the muffled warbling of chirps coming from the chamber beyond and the party's own heavy breathing.

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Pushed to the point of sheer exhaustion, Jasper sank down beside the beast, leaning against its still-smoldering feathers. He cringed as he felt the warm, viscous blood that had spread across the cave floor coat his legs, but he was too tired to care. He turned his eyes to the Ophan, murmuring his thanks. That was definitely harder than I expected. But he also knew, that as long as he hit a hundred, it would be worth it.

The giant hole the Ophan had torn in the air still remained, spinning ever so slightly on its axis. Nothing could be seen through it, nothing but endless darkness and a chill breeze that circulated through the monumental chamber.

The Ophan stood, unmoving, over the felled beast, and Jasper noted with a bit of surprise how much worse for the wear the Ophan looked. Its scorched flesh was riddled with gaping wounds and its metallic wings bent but, despite its wounds, the floating eye appeared untroubled. The eye met his gaze resolutely, and though it seemed ridiculous to attribute any emotions to the floating orb, Jasper felt a sense of friendly curiosity invade him, coupled with a tinge of impatience. Oh, it’s waiting for me to release it, he realized. He hadn't had to do that last time as the Ophan must have, eventually, been defeated by the city guards.

“You can go now.” He obliged the being’s desire and was immediately rewarded by a sense of gratitude that flooded his mind.

The creature bowed to him as its inexplicable voice - for it had no mouth - rumbled through the chamber. “May I eat first?”

His brow furrowed at the strange question. It wouldn’t turn against us and eat us, would it? In truth, he knew nothing about the bizarre being save that it was connected, in some way, to Kas̆dael. He decided to clarify. “Eat? Eat what?”

One of the creature’s metallic wings bent forward, brushing against the bloodied corpse of the bird.

“Sure,” Jasper agreed. “You can have the bird, and only the bird.” Best not to leave any loopholes.

Gratified, the Ophan bent down to the floor, placing its charcoal hands on the bloodied limestone. Slowly at first, and then faster, like an avalanche gathering speed on its frenzied path down the mountain, the dorēsah’s blood flowed into him. Within seconds the battered wings unfurled and the torn flesh knit over. The body of the dorēsah withered, collapsing in on itself, as every drop of moisture was wrung from its flesh, until it was left as withered and tough as aged leather. Then, with its wounds fully healed, the Ophan returned through the torn rent in the air. With an audible boom, the gap sealed behind him, and they were left alone.

Ihra and Annatta joined him as the relentless warbling of the baby birds once again filled the cavern. He glanced up at them, casting a worried eye over Ihra, but relaxed when he saw no signs of blood.

“Everyone alright?”

“Yep. Didn’t even have to turn into a deer this time, so that's progress,” Ihra quipped. Annatta just nodded as she stepped over him and approached the giant crack that stretched up the cavern walls. The birds’ cries were clearly coming from there, but the corpse of the matriarch, withered though it was, still proved a decidedly effective obstacle to the path forward. Planting her feet firmly against the ground, she heaved with all her might. To Jasper’s surprise, the matriarch's corpse did indeed budge. But her strength wasn’t enough to cast the bird aside.

The Djinn tried again, her feet slipping and sliding against the cavern floor as she futilely attempted to push the beast aside, and Jasper shared a look of wry amusement with Ihra. Guess she doesn’t want to ask for help. He decided to take pity on her though. Stepping up beside her, the three of them fought to push the matriarch’s body away from the opening, one painful step at a time until enough space was cleared to allow them to enter the passage.

Slipping inside the chamber, he was hit almost immediately by the overpowering stench of ammonia, not unlike that of guano. He was hit as well by a torrent of angry screeches. Rearing up on their hind legs and flapping their wings vigorously but ineffectively, the little birds bombarded hit him with sonic attacks. They packed a surprising punch, and Jasper was willing to bet they'd be downright dangerous to a low-leveled villager, but they were little more than an annoyance to him.

Ignoring the chicks’ attacks, the three worked quickly to the cages Jasper and Annatta had built in the village. Slowly, the birds fell silent, perhaps exhausting whatever sort of mana their attacks relied on, and Jasper was able to get a better glance at them. While the adults may have been a viciously tough foe, the little birds were much smaller, roughly the size of a shetland pony, and more than cute enough to give Li'l Sebastian a run for his money. Unlike the adults, their feathered coats were a riot of colors, dappled with bright blues, reds, and greens, and a white, ruffled frill wrapped around their necks that looked for all the world like the collar from some seventeenth-century noble. If he hadn’t known they were the young of the dorēsah, Jasper would never have guessed that they were even the same bird.

Annatta, in particular, was entranced by them. Exhibiting a side of her he hadn’t seen before, she ignored their futile attempts to bite off her hand, as she patted their heads. “I had no idea dorēsah hatchlings were so cute. These birds will be an enormous hit on the market.”

Jasper had to admit that the birds were fairly cute. “Too bad they’re just like Pokemon though,” he grouched. “I still remember my disappointment the first time my cute little Mudbray evolved into a Mudsdale. And these little critters?” He shook his head, glancing out at the withered corpse of the matriarch. “That was one ugly mother.”

Annatta blinked as she scooped one of the little birds up in her arms and stroked the back of its head until it calmed down. “I can’t say I’m familiar with those beasts.”

Ihra rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, nobody else has either. It’s one of those things from his world that he casually mentions like we're supposed to know what it means.”

Understanding bloomed in the Djinn’s eyes. “Ah, I see. Well, regardless, I’m not so sure that these dorēsah are doomed to look like her.”

He blinked in surprise, looking down at the brightly colored chicks. “Really? Why not?”

She shrugged, “Like I told you before, I don’t really know that much about the dorēsah, but it would surprise me if the "adult" form is actually some sort of evolution, perhaps after the first hunt. I bet there is some way of keeping them every bit as cute as they are now.” She patted the bird’s head fondly. “It really is too bad they were nearly hunted to extinction.”

“They were nearly hunted to extinction?” A little bit of guilt seeped into his heart as Jasper glanced down at the rather reluctant hatching he was struggling to nudge into a cage. “Were the dorēsah hunted down because they preyed on the cattle?”

The Djinn shook her head, pushing a lock out of her eyes as it tumbled free. “Actually, no, it was for religious reasons. An act of kindness, supposedly.”