Chapter Text
That dream again.
The tunnels deep in the mountain lit by two sets of flames. Two giant figures. The Phoenix, so bright and beautiful. Gold and red, the slightest halo of blue. Green pinions like flame on copper. But it was screaming. Screaming as it was chased by the shadow.
He could never see it clearly, whatever it was, just catching a blur of claws and the overhang of horns, the lash of its tail. Huge and hulking, withering heat bloomed off its dark-burning skin. Its every movement was a roar of flame, vast as a forest fire. It burst out of the tunnels, crashed across cliffs, and smashed through whole rock formations. The Phoenix dodged and weaved, even threw fireballs at it, but it was no use. The burning shadow was always there. Always right behind, claws grasping at the Phoenix’s feathers. Always roaring, its rage burning as strong as its flames.
And then the shadow caught up. A single dodge not far enough and it seized the Phoenix, throwing it on the stone below, and cracking the Phoenix’s body against the ground.
Then the shadow was on it, raising its fists, bringing them down - again, again, again, again. The Phoenix was screaming, his own voice was screaming, all of it lost in the beast’s roar.
The thing - the monster - stopped its blows only for a second. Only to shift its grip. Then it simply ripped the Phoenix apart from the sternum out. The Phoenix tried to scream once more, the sound breathy and pained, without the force from before. Its wings shuddered. Shuddered again.
Then all his fires went out.
—
Wyvern blinked his eyes open to see a small fire burning in front of him. Right. Just a campfire. He’d lit it himself for just a trace of warmth in the bitterly cold desert night, kept small so the light would remain hidden. The smoke smelled like all the other campfires the tnearby Dhalmekian army lit - like the dried dung the Dhalmeks used for fuel, rather than woodsmoke and scorched masonry.
He might be sleeping sitting up, wearing broken armour, in one of the most flame-benighted wastelands outside of the Blighted Lands themselves, perched on a ridge in the Nysa Defile above what would soon be a battlefield, but he wasn’t back there.
Now, what had woken him? After thirteen years in the Imperial Army, he woke at the slightest disturbance. Often before he even knew it was a disturbance.
A clatter of pebbles and the scrape of armour on stone brought him to full awareness. Aevis was back from his scouting trip. That was it. Wyvern didn’t bother to look up. Dawn was breaking. The battle would be today.
“They’re on the move,” Aevis said. “With Shiva. We need to get around behind them.”
“Any sign of Titan?” Tiamat asked.
“Not yet.”
There was a pause while Tiamat thought it over. Wyvern could feel the eyes on him. None of them said it, but they were relying on him far more than usual today. There was but the one effective way a Bearer could hope to deal with Shiva’s ice.
He stayed where he was, staring into the fire he’d lit. Eight years he’d been with this crew, nearly nine. Tiamat always took the time to think about the situation. Aevis was cautious too. Assassinating Shiva’s Dominant on the battlefield was by far the most dangerous thing they’d ever been ordered to, but survive and the rewards…
…were another day of life. Which was enough for Wyvern. Another day to find out about that thing. Another day he had to kill it.
Shiva’s Dominant would be practice.
“Let’s get in position,” Tiamat said. “We’ll stick to the plan. The Dhalmeks will have to send out Titan if Shiva takes the field too. We wait until the Dominant is tired and then strike. We make for the rear of the Ironblood line. Move!”
Biast took the lead through the narrow redstone chasms. True stealth was next to impossible in this accursed place. The grit and dust got everywhere. Fallen ruins dotted the chasms, even their white arches and swirls seeming dull and dirty. Wind whipped through the canyons, hiding any disturbance they made. In the distance, the sound of marching feet grew closer. The Ironblood had come in force. After ten minutes, they could hear the faint echoes of shouting. From both sides. The battle would be joined soon. Wyvern’s heart sped up.
The four of them edged around the main force of the Ironblood, even as the marching turned to the clamour of arms and the screams of the injured. The Ironblood Bearers were at the front, as they always were when the Ironblood went on Crusade. The faith of the Ironblood, their Crystalline so-called Orthodoxy, taught that the sin of using magic could only be expiated in a Bearer’s own blood. The Bearers were here on the field to kill as many of the enemy as possible and hopefully get killed themselves once they’d done it. Both the Bearers and the Ironblood might be doing that hoping. Wyvern had heard stories.
He traced a gloved hand over the black brand on his own jaw. They carved it into them with poison ink and magic. Not just the Ironblood but all the peoples of the continent of Storm. The mark of those with hearts of crystal, beyond human feeling, fit only to work for true humans. Expendable. Lesser.
A new chill washed through the air. Clear and refreshing, so different to the dry claustrophobia of the Defile. Wyvern looked up.
High, high above the battle, there was a figure in the sky. Her back was to them, giving them no more than a glimpse of pure white silks and long silver hair fluttering in the breeze, half shrouded in mist and sparkling shards of ice. Shiva - in full form.
“Oh, shit,” Biast said.
“Move!” Tiamat barked.
Wyvern didn’t argue. He ran. If Shiva was here, ice would soon be raining down on the entire battlefield. And then Titan would come to counter her. They didn’t have much time. They might not have enough time anyway. When Eikons fought -
No. Not now.
They made it only a little further before the ground rumbled. The crashing of steel turned into the roar of the earth splitting apart. Titan was coming. Titan was here. The air turned bitter cold and thick with dust.
“To the valley floor!” Tiamat shouted. “It’ll knock us off the ledges!” Unspoken was the sure and certain knowledge they’d have a far better chance with the Ironblood than they would with Titan.
But even something as simple as ‘to the valley floor’ was easier said than done, Wyvern thought grimly.
He dodged a shard of ice and a flying armoured body - whether Dhalmek or Ironblood he couldn’t tell. Dust obscured everything, coating everything. Smashed ice melted on hot rock, turning footing treacherous. Rocks flew overhead. The path split, separating him and Biast from Tiamat and Aevis. They dashed down a crumbling ledge. Above them, Wyvern got a glimpse of Titan himself. Like looking up at a moving mountain. The rictus smile of the massive Eikon would give anyone nightmares.
“Down there!” Biast called. He’d spotted the others. But even as they sprinted towards them, another rumble split the cliff apart. They ended up sliding, as shards of ice pelted down on them. Wyvern ducked under one boulder -
- Only to see the next crush Biast where he stood.
“No!”
The word burst out of him as he lost his balance. Wyvern tumbled down the slope. Another rock hit his head, or his head hit the rock, spinning him back around to face the bloodied boulder that had smashed Biast to nothing more than a gory paté. The world flickered dark.
“You got him?”
“I’ve got him.”
“No,” Wyvern said. The blood - the rock, like a fist from the sky - like that thing - “Brother…”