Over the deafening cries of the wounded birds, none of the party had heard the thick thump of another pair of wings hovering n the sky above them. One moment Jasper was racing toward the gathering of dorēsah and the next he was face-first in the dirt. He couldn’t even find the air to scream as one of the dagger-like talons tore into his chest, puncturing his lung, and ripping a hole out of his back.

The newcomer reared up with an agonized screech as Ihra loosed a volley of arrows into his chest. With its heavy wings pounding against the air, it lifted up from the ground, with Jasper clutched in its claws. His vision was spinning as the blood poured freely from him, but he vaguely saw a blur of motion whiz past him as someone leapt onto the beast's back, hacking at its neck and head. Another screech raked across the ground as the beast flailed its limps, but Jasper was flung free by the motion and tossed across the clearing, the razor-sharp talon taking one last devastating shot at his torso.

He landed in a heap, his breath refusing to come to him, but he could feel the ground growing damp beneath him, his muddled brain somehow grasping that it was his own blood. Bramble Crown, he managed to gasp, pouring his stamina into the spell. The bark quickly spread over his skin, sealing the deep wound, and he managed to push himself to his feet. Every breath ached and nowhere near enough oxygen was reaching his brain but the bleeding, at least, was staunched.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he struggled to assess the utter chaos unveiled before him. Despite clearing away most of the tall grass, in just a few moments of conflict, the fire quickly spread to the tall, green grass. The unfamiliar grass of the plains seemed resistant to the flames; rather than bursting into fire, the edges merely smoldered, but the threat of fire was replaced by an unforeseen danger. Copious clouds of thick black smoke billowed off the smoldering grass, quickly cloaking the entire clearing in an almost impenetrable veil. The corpses of birds and deer were scattered around him, but somewhere through the smoke, he heard the sound of a woman’s cry, though whether it came from Ihra or Annatta he could not tell.

Damn it. Jasper stumbled forward, plowing through the haze as best as he could. A beak lunged at him out of the darkness, tearing into his bark-encrusted skin. The armor, not hardened by his flames, crumbled, but it had born the brunt of the hit. Barely thinking, he roared back at the creature, a pillar of flames erupting from his mouth to engulf the dorēsah’s head. The flames faltered as the piercing agony of his mouth being once again flame-broiled brought him back to his senses. Oh. my. god. The pain was searing, and he fumbled blindly for a potion, but his attention was drawn away as another scream echoed through the haze.

At that moment, a gust of wind tore across the bluff, temporarily pushing back the smoke, and he saw his friends. A bloodied deer rose up on its hind legs, its barbed hoofs lashing at the throat of a truly massive bird while a small bundle he dimly recognized as Annatta clung to the creature’s back, ineffectually hacking at its neck with her daggers.

The bird screeched, and the deer was thrown by the forces of its attack onto its back, rolling across the ground, where it struggled to rise to its legs. Ihra. Abandoning his search for a healing potion, his hands reached for Arūtû’s sword. The starlight danced along its blade as Jasper cast his spell. Seraph’s Burst.

He rocketed through the air, the blade of the sword held in front of him like the head of a spear. Damn I miss my glaive, he thought as he shot between the deer and the bird. His arms screamed in agony as he smashed into the chest of the beast, his limbs crumpling beneath the force of the blow, but the blade sunk in, only to be torn from his hands a moment later as the spell spun him in a tight whirlwind.

The spell-forged wings raked across the dorēsah’s chest, a hundred small but inconsequential wounds opening up, and the bird reared back, its ponderous wings beating against the hair. The spin stopped and he swayed, dizzy. His arms fought his commands, struggling to rise, but he managed to cast another spell. Scourge of Despair. The spectral whip clumsily lashed out, but it did the job, drawing a score of bloody welts across its legs that summoned the hungry ghosts.

The bird's keening wails were matched by the frantic screams of the wraiths, who latched onto the beast, tearing and ripping at its flesh. He stumbled backward, throwing himself to the side as a thundering of hooves raced toward him. Ihra charged past, lowering her horns as she slammed into the dorēsah, although she was clearly favoring her hind leg. Her horns raked across its flesh, scoring a dozen new wounds, but it wasn't enough.

Shooting Star. He guttered his essence in a matter of moments, throwing one spell after another at the colossal beast. But in the mayhem, he had forgotten about Annatta, who was still latched onto the creature’s back, hacking her way through the thick plumage and armored skin along its neck. Her ineffectual attacks finally struck home as her daggers slipped past the thick layers of fat to reach the nerves in the spinal column and, with a final dreadful shriek, the colossal bird collapsed onto the ground.

He watched it warily at first, prepared to spring forward at the slightest twitch, but the beast lay still. Jasper hacked and coughed as the thick, acrid smoke once again begin to spread across the clearing as the brief wind died down.

The deer limped forward to the dead giant, the left leg dragging behind the rest, and bowing her head begin to lick at the pool of blood forming around the creature. “Ihra, what the hell are you doing?” His voice was cracked and hoarse, and he descended into another fit of coughing as he breathed in. But his question was answered nonetheless. As the deer drank the blood, the wounds on its body healed, and the leg slowly straightened. Yuck, but….whatever works, I guess. With its wounds healed, the deer bolted into the night, quickly hidden from his sight by the roiling smoke. His lungs were positively screaming for fresh air now, and Jasper turned away, prepared to leave. Wait, was that-?

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Reluctantly, he turned to look at the fallen beast one last time. A small figure was slumped over its neck, the faint glint of steel peaking out from beneath her body. Crap, Annatta isn’t moving. For just a moment the thought occurred to him that he didn’t have to push through the smoke again, that didn’t have to go save her. He would be free of her snide remarks and her annoying presence.

A deep, roiling knot of shame bloomed in his heart immediately at the thought. Damn it. Pulling his fancy tunic higher, in an attempt to filter out some of the smoke, he forced his way back through the clearing. His foot got caught in one of the legs of the dead deer and he stumbled, almost falling face-first into the pool of gore, but he managed to correct himself, bursting through a patch of burning ground to reach the dorēsah’s body. Tongues of flame were already licking at its flesh, but the thick feathers that coated the bird were surprisingly resistant to fire, only now beginning to smolder.

He had to pull himself up the carcass one hand after another, his feet sliding uselessly off the beast’s glossy feathers, but with a final heave, he pulled himself on top. Rolling on his front, he nearly slid of the bird’s back, his hands desperately latching on for dear life until he steadied himself. “Annatta?” he called, but there was no response. Carefully, he crept forward, until he could place a hand on her back. “Annatta?”

He rested his fingers on her neck, and after a second's nervous pause, was relieved to feel a faint, sluggish pulse. He shook her shoulders vigorously, but the Djinn didn’t stir. She did, however, begin to slide down the slippery feathers of the beast. Jasper flopped on his belly, trying to grab her securely, but she slipped between his fingers, shooting like a toddler down a slide to the ground, where she remained slumped over. Well, I guess that worked?

He started to move to the edge of the corpse, prepared to slide after her, but his gaze fell on the twin blades still buried deep in the bird’s neck. “I should get those for her,” he muttered to himself. Inching forward, his hands closed around the hilt. He released them immediately as a faint jolt, like electricity, raced up his arm. What the hell? Cautiously, he wrapped his hand around it again, wincing as the shock raced up his arm, but he held on this time realizing that the sensation, while strange, was not truly harming in. The blades were buried deep in the creature’s neck, lodged tight against its vertebrae, and he struggled to pull them free, unable to get any meaningful traction on the slick feathers, but both finally gave way. Tossing them in his bag, he slid down the beast’s back, landing beside the unconscious Djinn.

His head was growing groggy as the air was starved of oxygen, but he managed to sling her across his shoulders and stumble toward the edge of the clearing. The smoke grew thicker as he reached the tall grasses that were the source of the haze. Smoldering, but not quite consumed by the fire, massive pillars of smoke rose above the strange grass. His eyes wept from the smoke as he pushed through, but eventually, he broke free from the circle of fire.

The cool night air felt like heaven to his damaged lungs. Dropping Annatta to the ground, he pried her lips open and poured a healing potion down her throat. Then, taking one of his own, he flopped down onto the ground, allowing himself to embrace the sweet call of unconsciousness.

He awoke to the sound of sizzling flesh. The smell of smoke still clung to him like a heavy cloud, but it was laced with a savory scent. Prying one eye open, he caught a glimpse of a familiar blond head. He sat up, wincing as he rubbed his painfully dry eyes. “Ihra?” His eyes widened as he realized scanned the small campsite he was sitting in. This isn’t where I passed out.

Ihra held a plate out to him, piled high with slightly charred flesh. “Hungry?”

The gnawing pit of hunger in his stomach needed no further excuse to dig in. The flesh was a bit tough and chewy, in desperate need of marination, but the flavor was amazing. “Where did you get this? This isn’t deer.”

“The fruit of our victory, of course.”

“This is the bird?” He glanced down at the meat in surprise. “If this was just a little more tender, this would be a delicacy. Even with no spices, it tastes great.”

She shrugged. “I think you’re just hungry; I thought it was fine but nothing special. After I dragged you over her, I went back to the clearing to harvest some of the meat. No point in letting it all go to way waste.” She patted her bag of holding. “Hopefully, the people of S̆addānu will agree with you and pay a good price for it.”

He nodded in agreement but paused mid-bob as he finally remembered dragging Annatta out with him. Glancing around the small camp, he saw no sign of Djinn. “Uh, Ihra, where’s Annatta?”

“Hiding probably.”

“Hiding?”

Ihra smirked. “My bad, I believe she said she was scouting. What she was scouting, who can say?” She laughed. “Annatta was pretty confused when she awoke. The events of the fight are a bit hazy for me, but I gathered that she ended up passing out on top of the dorēsah from the smoke?” Her voice trailed off questioningly, and Jasper nodded in confirmation. “Evidently, she briefly came to at some point, as she had a vague memory of you carrying her, and then she woke up in the camp after I dragged you both here. She said she was going scouting, but I think she's just feeling mortified, and slunk off to lick her wounds in private.”

Jasper stuffed more of the delicious bird in his mouth, struggling to speak with a full mouth. “Mortified? Why?”

Ihra shrugged. “I mean, she's supposed to be your bodyguard, but you’re the one that saved her. Plus, it wasn't like she was exactly subtle about the fact that she dislikes you, so having to be rescued by you is probably a bit galling.”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I was just going to let her die,” he said, suffocating the small fount of shame as he remembered that he had, for a moment, considered it.

She clucked her tongue. “Of course not, but that doesn't make it any less embarrassing for her.”

Not knowing what else to say, Jasper let the conversation fall silent, and the two feasted on the dorēsah as they awaited the Djinn's return.