Young Flame

I poke at a feather on the alicanto’s neck. Despite it no longer spinning around the bird’s body, the plumage remains sharp. The bird twitches again. Grímr must be having trouble learning to control this beast. While it took a few moments to put the reins on the lizard, he has yet to achieve more than spasms even minutes after entering the alicanto.

I twist in my mounted position to the mermineae trio closing in on the downed bird. I spare them a suspicious glance. They said they will help once the bird is grounded, but the effort they put in was minimal at best. Were they hoping Grímr and I would fail? Or were they trying to gauge what we can do? Whatever their intention, they’ve only succeeded in making me annoyed at them.

Much of their hides are scratched up with shallow cuts. Their arms and claws are damaged by the grinding feathers when they tried to pin the bird. A gash in two of their sides and one’s chest from the chain-like tail. As bloody as the wounds look, they are only skin deep.

As irritated as I am with their lack of help, the alicanto they lead us to is the best I could hope for. There aren’t too many things that’ll come out unhurt from a dive from this heavy bird. It’s strong and while slow to accelerate, its powerful wings can push it to incredible speeds.

“Your friend succeeded, yes?” Caavaa asks as he approaches the twitching bird.

I watch him carefully, uncertain he won’t pull something before Grímr can control his new body properly. The mermineae stop a few metres from us, thankfully. They inspect the still hot, deformed feathers along the wing of the downed beast.

“Yes.” I don’t tell them any more. If they know it’ll take time for Grímr to learn to adjust to his new form, they might take advantage of that. Their actions in that fight remind me that while we are working together, I shouldn’t expect much from them. They care more about achieving their goal than helping me. If Grímr and I were to die, it would be a setback at most for their plans.

The wings of the alicanto finally move with structure and not the twitchy jerks it had until now. Their long fifteen metre wingspan stretches wide. Metal groans under the effort. The wings freeze in place and the singular remaining eye of the bird opens up before me. Grímr’s new eye seems to wander randomly until it lands on me.

A swirl of green and gold light glistens in the moonlight's reflection, almost like they are lights in of themselves. Considering the power of this beast must sit near that of the dahu, I wouldn’t be surprised if they are glowing all on their own.

Grímr winks at me. I take that to be his confirmation that everything is alright.

His eye rolls forward and his wings grind as they clamp closed to his sides. I have to lean forward and hold on to the neck feathers as Grímr slowly brings his talons underneath him. He stumbles around for a while until he steadies himself and steps forward without falling.

The mermineae back off. Their faces unable to hide their revulsion. I don’t really understand it; it’s not like it’s them being taken over. Is this sort of reaction normal to Grímr? It would explain why he was so hesitant to tell me what he was when we first met.

“Your races are common in the beyond, yes?” Aana asks with hesitance.

I turn to her before Grímr tries to follow suit. His head twists in the right direction, but his feet aren’t quick enough to account for the change in balance and we topple to the ground.

“Yeah, I think so,” I say, trying to ignore the many tonne bird flailing beneath me.

The mermineae exchange glances. It’s obvious they are hiding something. Whatever thoughts they’ve had amongst each other, they don’t share it with Grímr and I.

I narrow my eyes at them, but before I can question them, the feathers beneath me buzz. They tear through my talons, and I realise I’m still in my falcon form. I should change back before Grímr is ready to leave.

“So, what’s the plan to get our team out?” I ask as I glide off Grímr’s back.

They’re still yet to tell me what they have planned. I haven’t questioned their lack of openness until now, what with Grímr’s new body taking precedence. If they still don’t answer even now, I think it’s time we part ways. I don’t want to work with people who will try to lead me on.

“A few days we have to wait.” those are not the words I want to hear, but I hold myself back from interrupting. “I shall infiltrate the holding camp and remove restraints. You can create a distraction, yes?”

“Uh, sure.” I lower my eyes to the spear-tip, which is all that remains of my weapon. “Do you just want me to spread fire through their camp? Your people will be hurt and I don’t think I’d be able to tell you apart from the others.” I’ll do what needs to be done to free my team, but I doubt Caavaa will be fine with the slaughter of his own people.

“That is fine. Traitors deserve no mercy.”

I can’t help but stare at him. Our goal is only the freedom of my team. He should consider the deaths of his people as something to be done only if necessary. Well, if he has no issue with it, I probably shouldn’t hold back. Who knows what kind of counterattack might reach me if I’m lenient on my enemies.

“I’ll give you the signal to start once I’m at a reasonable distance. Take care not to be seen.” He points to his eyes. “The Forvaal, those with decay eyes, will not let you off.”

Yeah, he doesn’t need to tell me. I already know to be careful around the mermineae that can turn things to dust. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem all powerful. Caavaa could only send away that four winged eagle for a few seconds with his. Then again, that bird brought me close to death, so being able to scare it off even a moment is impressive.

My body finally finishes changing back to my natural shape and Aana tosses the sticky cloak of shed fur. I grumble, but pull it over myself. Even at night, there must be things to hide from. Grímr’s shiny plumage isn’t exactly well hidden, so I can only feel the disgusting cloak is rather unnecessary.

“Your friend will collect the captives in the commotion,” Caavaa says.

“And what will Aana and Muuro be doing?” I ask. It seems like Grímr and I will do all the work. Sure, they have the information we need, but considering they expect us to help them afterwards, they aren’t participating much.

“They’ll be waiting to hide you after your escape.”

It is obvious they are putting all the risk on us. If this fails, only Grímr and I will be in any real strife. Even so, I won’t complain. But they can definitely expect me to reciprocate; neither me nor my team will risk ourselves when we look for those outsiders.

“I must head back,” Caavaa announces. “Muuro, Aana, please lead them to the observation point near where the outsiders are being held. You know the one, yes?”

“Of course.” Aana lowers her head. “May you remain hidden on your journey.”

Caavaa returns the gesture. “To you as well.” And with that, he runs off, fading from sight in moments.

Aana turns to me. “Get some sleep. We’ll head out at first light.”

And with that, both her and Muuro skulk away from Grímr and me until they come to a stop nearly at the range of my sense. I’d think they might be planning to run off if they hadn’t gone in different directions. Actually, just because they’ve gone to rest apart from each other doesn’t mean they won’t run off. Well, they’re hardly going to run off now; they’ve already helped Grímr get a body, they’ll be expecting something in return soon enough.

I make my way over to Grímr. The massive bird is far longer than the panther he used to inhabit, but with his wings at his sides as they are now, he is only a fraction larger than he was. Beak to talon, he’s only three or four metres. The chain-like tail is about as long as both wings; fifteen metres, and the feathers flare out at the end creating a remarkably sharp blade.

The moonlight dims and the reflections off his new shiny plumage die along with it. As the metal bird fades into the darkness of night, I notice an ever so faint light from its sole remaining eye. I was right in my assumption that like the dahu and Forvaal, the creature’s energy burns through its eyes.

Do all creatures get this glow when they are strong enough? Or is it just some? No, it is definitely only some; Hund’s gaze was powerful, but his eyes didn’t glow. Not even slightly.

Do the glowing eyes represent some ability or power that is unique only to them? It would fit with what I’ve seen. The dahu could control forests of rock and the Forvaal can do that weird dust thing they call decay. Is the ability of the alicanto to spin its feathers? Or is it simply how its outer body is replaced by metal?

It looks like Grímr has finally got the hang of walking on his massive talons and has moved onto stretching his wings and tail with dexterous motions.

“Doing alright in there?” I ask. I know the brain of the bird can’t have been left in a good state after the amount of knocks it took. The head is still bent out of shape. I’m not sure if Grímr can fix the deformations.

He nods to me without a break in his movements. He keeps his focus on balancing with his heavy wings and tail stretched to their limits. I guess he considers mastering his body much more important to do right away, rather than morph his throat to allow speech. We are still out in the open, so I don’t blame him for his choice. He’s not as lucky as me. He doesn’t have one of the mermineae’s cloaks.

One of the sticky, stinky, rotting blankets made from the horribly rough fur and some unspeakable substance that I’m not even sure I want to know where it comes from. Wait, why did I think he was the lucky one in this situation?

The Ember Moon’s flames ignite and cover the plains in its familiar red glow. The bright shine from the alicanto’s body returns, but this time it is a deep crimson, not the gold and green colour it previously took. Grímr’s eye lands on me and I’m glad it’s my friend in there, not some beast. The glowing blood-red eyes are rather eerie, especially considering Eldest Ember’s light has changed this bird’s appearance entirely.

I can’t tell if it’s the light playing tricks on me, but the feathers and maw of the bird seem far more intimidating than before. The feathers are more jagged and the beak opens for a line of sharp teeth I swear weren’t there a few minutes ago.

It is only when I see the spiky metal ball of feathers at the end of his tail, do I know for sure that his body has changed with the Ember Moon.

Grímr opens his razor-toothed beak and takes a single step toward me before his limbs lock up and he slams into the ground. I wait a few moments, but he doesn’t move.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

Grímr winks at me — is it a wink or a blink if he only has one eye? — and I take that to mean everything is fine. Maybe he’s just trying to control a new aspect of his body he found. I don’t know. But I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.

I’ll leave him to it for the night.

❖❖❖

In the morning, we are moving before the sun rises. Grímr is back to the same way he looked before the Ember Moon, for which I’m thankful.

“What was that last night? Did your body change with the Ember Moon?”

“Ember Moon?” Grímr asks before shaking his beak.

With my merminea cloak, I’m riding on the back of Grímr as he flies after the two running below. Apparently the birds of prey in the area are hesitant to attack other predators of the skies unless desperate, so riding Grímr is far safer than flying with my own wings. Which is rather frustrating. Maybe I should cover myself in flames to make myself look bigger than all the other birds. Would they attack me then?

“The midnight light seems to send this body into a frenzy. I was receiving signals of intense hunger that didn’t make sense and the body began moving entirely on reflexes, so I had to lock down the muscles and joints. I’ve never seen something like it in any of the other creatures I’ve been in. The closest would be the instant reflex of some bugs.”

“What about the changes to your body, though? The jagged feathers or spike-ball tail?”

“The what?” Grímr tries to turn his head to me, but the still deformed shape of it prevents him getting an eye on me. “I didn’t notice any changes. The body didn’t recognise anything was different.”

“Huh, well you definitely changed. You became a far more intimidating bird there.”

“I’ll have to look into it tonight.”

The sun finally breaks past the horizon and I cover my eyes, expecting to be blinded by the reflection off Grímr’s shiny plumage. But… nothing. It’s like the metal doesn’t reflect the sun’s light at all. The green and gold sheen remains, but it is dark, like it’s in the shade rather than direct sunlight.

This new body is incredibly curious. I can’t wait to help Grímr figure out its secrets.

But first, we need to free our team. Only a brief trip and we’ll see them again.

This mission is going to go perfectly.