A shadow moves in front of me, blocking him from my line of sight.No, not a shadow.The small figure is a female. Her dainty fingers elongated by pointed nails, she flexes and releases against the hilt of her needle of a sword. The tip of it is outstretched in front of her. Pointed at me.
She seems too small, too young to be here.
Her black, scale-like armor swallows her, but there’s a gleam in her eye. A bloodthirsty gleam. She’s seen many battles. She flips her sword from hand to hand, her eyes narrowing on my face.
With lithe steps, she moves to circle around me. But as she moves, Lachlan appears and then vanishes from my view, falling off the edge of the cliff.
Fear seizes my chest, shooting ice through my veins.
My wings burst from my back, the silver gray of my feathers reflecting the light that spears from above through the smoke hanging like a shroud over the field.
I shove past her and take off running.
Racing up the hill.
I weave through swords and spears. Streaking like the wind through the trees.
He’s not dead. He’s not dead.I repeat over and over in my mind.
I work to control my breathing, but I pump my arms and legs as fast as they can go.
The air in my throat burns as I inhale smoke and ash.
A spear grazes the side of my neck and pain rips through me.
I pull my wings in tight to my body, shielding them as best as I can, and push up and on.
Fighting blurs as I sprint by. My eyes locked on to the top of the hill.
I breathe in. 1,2,3,4.
I hold it. 1,2,3,4.
I exhale. 1,2,3,4.
My feet crest the top of the hill, but my body keeps going as I hurl myself over the edge, stretching my wings out wide.
The drop is much further than I thought it would be. It’s a deep valley below.
I catch the current, surging upwards and into the clear blue sky that exists beyond the wall of smoke. Flexing my abs and back at the right moment, I manage to stay in the current long enough to glide, and when I drop lower, I flap my wings. The air stirs, holding me aloft.
There is no fear. No worries about flying. Just him.
The land from this high unfolds before me. Fighting in the emerald valley is thicker than anything I could have imagined. Black armor looks like specks of night stretching across the battlefield.
Deep valleys and rolling hills cover much of the land before they collide against a thick wall of forest. Jewel-colored trees stand like sentinels around the land.
I feel a tug in my middle. A rope cast out to a drowning man.The silver of his armor catches the light and I angle myself towards him.
He’s moving, he’s upright.
Until he’s not.
His shout of pain rings in my ears as I slam into the ground. My legs bend to absorb the impact, and my fist strikes into the ground to hold me upright.
Lachlan pulls himself back up. He’s unharmed. The blood on his armor is not his own. A sigh works its way out of my chest.
His opponent rises, his sword angled to strike down Lachlan. My axe whizzes through the air, embedding itself into the man’s chest. He crumples to the ground in a heap of black armor.
