Things weren’t looking good.
No, that was too much of an understatement. Yalun could hardly imagine much worse circumstances than what they were facing. Maybe their emigration from the eastern lands or the Great Tragedy, but both events were simply stories to her; never so real as the threat they faced now.
Things were devastating.
In the months following the conference, the encroaching ocean ate away at almost a quarter of the wasteland. Despite attempts to evacuate tribes from the area, Yalun was sure many couldn’t escape fast enough. In the meeting between grand elders, her estimation had been pessimistic, assuming the worst, and yet reality found a way to exceed even that fearful assumption.
The ocean never reached a stable speed. Instead, it only increased to accelerate as it consumed the sands their kind had called home for millennia. Now, it spread faster than the typical tribe. Those not already clear — or in the safety of high altitudes — were doomed to be overrun before long.
They needed to stop it. It hadn’t been long since their last conference, but they already needed to change their approach. This time, there was no time to call another meeting. Yalun, along with nearly twenty of her elders came together for the express purpose of putting an end to the source.
She had never seen so many of them together. Some she hadn’t even met until now. Yalun was the youngest of the grand elders, but she’d been acting as the leader of the eagles long enough to know all but the most reclusive, yet here they were. Such a force was extreme, but considering the dangers they faced, she wished they had more.
Yalun flew through the pouring rains in large arcs waiting for the signal. The wet was unbearable, but she had no choice but to push through it; she couldn’t hide away under her student’s hood this time.
On her back, Iri adjusted his position, kicking Yalun’s wing in the motion. She suppressed her immediate annoyance toward the man; it do no good to start any arguments now. No matter how much the action almost sent them spiralling into the ocean below.
Along with Iri, Ildri and Mirri — one of the grand elders she’d only just met — both rode atop her enlarged eagle form. She was stretched to her maximum size, which really wasn’t all that big considering her lacking capacity. While the trio riding her were able to limit their weight enough for her to keep them aloft, their size really didn’t help Yalun fight the intense winds of this storm.
She momentarily considered how effective her student might be in this operation, or even that large metal bird friend of hers, Grímr. Solvei had the energy to grow her body far larger than Yalun, though with her lacking control, the size might not be all that much larger.
She shook the thoughts from her head. The girl was still young, even if her attitude and strength were somewhat off-standard. Yalun wasn’t about to put her in danger if she could help it. At least… not until she’d seen what lied beyond the binding threshold.
There was also her pride. Yalun wouldn’t put someone younger than her in this position while she was fully capable. Her ever so slight envy of having her place as the áed with the greatest binding was subdued by curiosity, but it was still present. She understood the foolishness of it and would never vocalise her intrusive thoughts. Still, after centuries of rapidly surpassing her kin, it was humbling to have the same happen in reverse.
She circled in the air, keeping close eye on the movement of the waters below. Charybdis’ vast whirlpool was hidden by the storm, but whenever it was near, the colossal waves kicked up by the ocean would flatten out. The flow of the ocean would reverse.
It was an effect she’d noticed over the past few months; the Titan would orbit the island and whenever it was on the wasteland side, the encroaching shore would slow to a crawl. Unfortunately, not enough to make a difference.
She realised she’d let herself get too close when the mid ocean waterfalls became visible. It appeared as if the edge of the world appeared. Endless amounts of water fell into the chasm of the Titan’s stomach. Yalun tensed, fearful that it it was coming for them. She wasn’t expending any energy, nor were her passengers, but could that knowledge truly be relied upon? Titans were creatures beyond any other.
Thankfully, it moved no closer. It was impossible to tell from here, but it was likely just on its path northward. The rest of the grand elders were waiting far behind her, ready to rush in once the attack started. Unfortunately, the only option they had to get to the island alive would attract Charybdis’ attention without doubt.
Yalun made to move from the Titan, but was interrupted by something to the south. Hraun’s distraction was finally beginning.
A slight darkness overcome the storm to the left of Charybdis. Moments later, a wave of heat washed over them, vaporising the downfall around them. The blast cleared their obscured vision for only a few moments before the rain fell once more, but it was enough to witness the power of Hraun.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Black flame burned the horizon.
Everything to the west was whirlpool. The Titan, upon feeling the explosion of energy from Hraun, reversed its movement. Despite her centuries, Yalun felt like yelling out like a child at the incomprehensibility of it. Something that massive should never be able to turn that fast. Not even her fastest — jet-boosted — speed could come close. If it came for her, she was dead.
In those few moments before her sight was obscured once more, the ocean morphed and bent to the will of Charybdis. Rolling mountains of water raced south, whipping the bordering waves into a frenzy. The storm reignited with intensity. Rain crashed down over their bodies and burned away with nothing short of pervasive aches.
Yalun had thought the swells before were great, rising and falling a few hundred metres with each wave. But this was so much worse. She had to rise into the thick storm-cloud above to avoid the peak as it towered over a kilometre higher than its previous trough.
Her eyes followed the swell as it continued to the east. That would cause irreparable damage to the wasteland, but she could do nothing but watch. She could do nothing but focus on her job. Hopefully, the grand elders in it’s path would avoid it.
“Well, there’s our signal,” Yalun says, mainly to calm her own nerves.
And so, she head through the storm while the waves and wind roared around her. Any time she looked down, she expected to see the whirlpool eating away the ocean, ready to rise out and eat her, but Charybdis had already left. She didn’t envy Hraun his role.
“You can point out our target for us, right Yalun?” She could barely make out Ildri’s words through the cacophony.
Yalun nodded. Both so she didn’t get another mouthful of water, and so she didn’t snap out an irritated retort. There was no way they would miss where they needed to aim when they saw it. Unless that creepy green eye had somehow repositioned the inscription that held its form, it should be no trouble to burn it away.
After their initial contact and some subsequent scouting in the past months, they came to the conclusion the external inscription painting the metal was what linked the Anatla to the island. Not even the elders who had studied the eastern inscriptions could make any sense of it, but it was the best assumption they could make. It also meant they didn’t need to get inside to stop the ocean, they could simply cut off the Anatla, which should be its power source.
Before long, the island came into sight in all its hard grey metallic glory… though the corruptive green glow spread to a far greater degree than it was the last time she was here. Any opening, whether it be an undamaged dock, or a crack now gushing powerful streams of water, now glows with the colour of the anatla crawling out.
Yalun flew on. She ignored the entrance they took before. It would be a death sentence to any áed, even if they could handle the water. The poisonous influence of the Anatla was a terrifying threat that not even Hraun could very well ignore.
She rose through the air, careful to keep away from the countless powerful streams of water. Through the obscurity of thick cloud cover, their target glowed as if it was inviting them in. Thankfully, the eye of the Anatla was not there to welcome them. She didn’t think it would stay that way for long.
Her passengers didn’t need to be told what to do. Ildri and Iri pushed an immense quantity of energy into a torrent of deep blue flames that swirled dangerously around them. Yalun wanted to add her own efforts into the pooling power, but with how little she had, she needed to preserve it. Mirri’s black flames actually hurt when they wrapped around the other two’s blaze and grew it to another scale of proportions.
Yalun was used to Śuri using his flames, but it was obvious that he had superior control even amongst the elite of the grand elder cohort. She ignored the pain for now, even if it threw her control into disarray. She could carry the three and that was good enough.
The twisting inferno crashed down on the surface of the island, indiscriminately burning away any exposed corner not gushing out water. With this much energy being expended, her passengers no longer had a need to sit upon her, and she could back away while they held their altitude with their own flames.
The fire, despite covering every visible surface, didn’t burn away the metal anywhere near as fast as it should. In the sections it did break through, more geysers of water would burst out, drowning the air in even more steam. They’d witnessed the freezing effect when they’d passed through the island last time, but it was never to this degree of capability. Apparently, the Anatla was able to influence more than just the generation of water.
Through the unbelievably hot flames, Yalun could see a rather odd effect occurring with the metal. It would bubble and pop, like boiling liquid, but would immediately freeze in spherical forms only to repeat the process. If she had to guess, each bubble created like that contained a vacuum, which… probably wasn’t doing any favours to the efficiency of the flames.
Still, the bubble-form metal was likely far more fragile than it once was. Something the trio below her might have picked up on, as they each strike away sections with their relics. While their flames spread over the entire surface of the island, they strike at any green inscription they can see, which quickly reveals itself to have been a horrible idea.
The first few experimental strikes didn’t return any of that corruptive influence, but it’s almost like it was waiting, ready to lure them in, before it latched on. And when it latched on, it didn’t let go. Iri and Ildri attacked at once, both of their weapons cutting away a dozen metres of metal with their swooping strike. Both lost their weapons almost immediately. The corruption spread faster than Yalun had seen it.
Mirri abandoned his dive and it was the only reason he kept his weapon.
Śuri rushed in from behind her, his blaze added to the other three as they gradually ate away at the surface of the island. Yalun should be surprised to see him here so early, but she wasn’t. The fool was likely using that dumb board of his and sticking far too close to the Titan before Hraun lured it away.
“No weapons,” Mirri shouts at Śuri as he rockets in with a powerful flame jet.
Almost as if reacting to his presence, a green ring appears below, solidifying from the cloudy influence spread across the surface. In an instant, it grows to cover the island, staring at them through the window of another world.
The black firestorm boiling away the surface flickers green.