Chapter 38: But as Chill Winds Depart

Well, at least this was a more climatic way to die than starving to death in a cave.

 

I, of course, had some measure of survival sense even in a somewhat drunken state, but I could nary flinch from the cast before the birdman released it. In under a half second it had already crossed through the air, leaving me only enough time to close my eyes.

 

Instead of skewering me, however, a ring of flames appeared in front of me, the ice bolt melting as it passed through to drench me with a bucketful of warm water instead. Both the birdman and me could only blink in confusion at the floating fire which had come out of nowhere.

 

How did that melt so fast? Those flames must have an ultra hot interior to completely melt such a huge spear. I had to wonder, just how pow… wait why am I worrying about that right now?

 

I whipped my head around as three additional figures entered the cave, all of them clad in full war gear. Gauntlets and boots of silvery steel poked out from under their cloaks, which were tucked under their belts,  and birdlike masks covered in faint runes covered their faces. Two of them carried lanterns of blue, casting the entire cave in an oceanic light, while the third carried a stave in his left hand. Orange lines of power whispered through the air around the paladin, echoes of the shield he had cast just moments before.

 

“H-Hans!” I cried. 

 

I couldn’t tell how long it had been since I had last seen them, though I would guess it was under a day. Nor could I wonder much towards how they had found us, joy instead replacing every other thought.

 

My joy was short lived, however, as a furious green light again began to glow from the back of the cave. I looked back in fear as Izavelo lit his lantern once again, its bright green light overpowering the newcomer’s own. The glass bird made no noise as it did this, and with only a dangle of its lantern’s chain and almost immediately I heard the sound of two swords drop as the Mavericks succumbed to its enchantment. Hans only faltered a little, either his mental fortitude or some measure of defensive magic blocking the majority of its allure.

 

Surprisingly, the light seemed to hold no power over me this time, other than fortifying the longing in the back of my heart. Though I tried to avoid looking at it directly in paranoia, I had the feeling that the same enchantment wouldn’t affect me again for a while.

 

Unfortunately, the birdman was much the same as me, and was now twice as angry as it had been before. He screeched with hatred at the cute glass bird, giving up on attacking Gideon in favour of stomping towards the creature with murderous intent. He summoned more icy bolts to throw against ‘Izavelo’, most of which simply glanced off his shaped glass hide. Izavelo didn’t even bother to dodge, choosing to stare at the approaching monster curiously instead, though I wasn’t sure what I had expected with the shattered glass leg it had.

 

For once, I decided to ignore the fight from then, figuring that whoever won didn’t really matter to me. After a quick glance after Gideon to make sure he was safe, I jogged over to the three who’d entered. I felt Gideon land on my head, probably thinking the same thing as me.

 

“Hey, Hans! Are you alright?” I shouted.

 

I ran up to the kneeling giant of a man, finding that he was holding his head and whispering mantras under his breath as I approached. The others looked worse, to be fair, muttering and whispering gibberish to themselves.

 

“Cice, Verol… It’s meaningless!” Breale swooned. “A singular, immortal moment in time…”

 

“Nor, nor, nor, shkaochi!” Fredrick sang. “Izosa ost, eh drkmor, eh deurin!”

 

Is this the state we found ourselves slaved to? Gideon asked. How bizarre.

 

“Reach… into my side pouch.” Hans grunted between verses. “Yellow vial, Celpin… on label.”

 

I chuckled as I dove through his bag, brushing aside various other knick-knacks and vials. What kind of response was ‘How bizarre’? I could’ve understood ‘horrific’ or maybe some fearful muttering, but the way Gideon had calmly stated that overcame any such feelings myself. It was almost like walking up to a cancer ward and telling them how their whole plight was ‘a bit sad’, it just passed into absurdity to me.

 

Was this a sign that we were risking our lives too frequently these days? Perhaps I’d have to schedule some more days off.

 

Finally I found the vial and moved it to his lips, only for one of his shaking hands to stop me, ripping the vial from my hand to instead pour into his open eyes. I jumped back, more startled by that than the state he’d been in before, cringing as it made a sizzling noise on contact.

 

“Good lord, man, What’re ya doing?!” I cried.

 

“It’s faster.” Hans opened and closed his red-tinged eyes. “And I say, a faling! Right in the valley of Esilmor! How did it get so far in?”

 

Hans clicked his tongue before scooping up his weapons and checking his bag. After a moment making sure nothing had been misplaced, he glanced towards me and the drake.

 

“How did you fare? By what device did you break his enchantment?”

 

“Gi-” I closed my move and thought for a second. Why was my mind so foggy all of a sudden? “Silst broke me out.”

 

I did not, actually. Gideon corrected. The Walker himself freed me from the light. He required our assistance in driving off the faling.

 

“Falling?” I asked, confused. “Wha…wha’s that?”

 

Hans looked at me in alarm, looking me over like I was sprouting wings. After a second I crossed my arms to cover my drenched shirt.

 

“It’s not free to l-look.” I said.

 

“In all my years… Did you get drunk off the ambient magic?” He shook his head. “I can’t quite say if that would be foolish or impressive.”

 

Drunk? I’d cast literally one souped up spatal. It should be almost impossible to get mana-drunk off something like that. And it was definitely impossible to get drunk off the after-effects of magic, that wasn’t how the symptoms worked. He must’ve been seeing something different, and it would be wise to redirect him before he got too suspicious.

 

“You’re drunk.” I accused.

 

A loud screech of glass on rock cut down any response to my eloquence, and we looked over just in time to see Izavelo carve out a chunk of the wall with his wing. Pebbles and gravel spewed over the cave, and the dust blown into the air almost obscured the light from view.

 

We must needs assist the Walker. Gideon flew down to the floor. That’s why it called us here.

 

“Help?” I asked. “That thing dragged us right through! He ain’t a real one, Gid.”

 

Gideon threw back a strained look.

 

We have no great supply of time. I apologise, princess, but it is clear you shoulds not be taken further into our fight. Stay near the Cicelings.

 

“How rude...” I muttered. 

 

Gideon moved his forelimbs wildly from Hans to the ‘faling’, playing a mini game of charades before he lifted off towards it. Hans seemed to get the message easily enough, and I started to follow him before he stopped me.

 

“Wha?” I asked

 

“Stay here.” He grabbed my shoulders and sat me on the ground. “Run if you see it go poorly.”

 

“But…”

 

He didn’t listen any more, instead setting his sword alight as he walked towards the fight.

 

I watched for a minute as they matched sword against stave in glorious combat, slashing and flying and casting and a thousand other things that I suddenly found boring to look at. Who really cared about a few explosions and dramatic sword swings anyway? Not me, little old Ryder. Nope, if he didn’t think I could help, why would I even care!

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I laid an arm around each of the Maverick’s necks, bringing them closer.

 

“Ya know, you are some of my fa-vour-ite people.” I stretched a hand to wipe a tear off my cheek. “Gid’yon don’t need me, he don’t need you. But we’ve got each other.”

 

“Chve paosrif zet deorchif?” Fredrick sang. “Izif, izif, izif derizif!”

 

“Forever in the Infinite Collective of Time.” Breale said. “Cice is saved! And I have saved it!”

 

“You know me so well.”

…

Silst weaved under another stave swing, trying to find an opening in the faling's shield. From his extensive memory fighting with these things, he knew that the monster couldn’t materialise it in every direction at once, and he was bound to mess up when fighting three different opponents.

 

He soared under the faling's flailing arm, only to be forced to peel off when Izavelo’s wing appeared in front of his path. Dust and blood flew into the air from where it impacted the ground, obliterating the dying deer that had been there.

 

Unfortunately, the Walker of Woods wasn’t the greatest at playing along with a team. In fact, Silst almost had to pay more attention to its attacks, destructive and wild as they were. Though, really, Silst wasn’t sure how it could work with a team, given its size. 

 

The drake flew higher and above the others, almost scrapping the roof to avoid another spell. As he left the immediate fight for a moment, he took a second to admire the paladin himself.

 

He stood with a flaming sword in one hand and a casting stave in the other, each almost painful to behold in their majesty. The edges of his armour seemed to glow orange, his weapons fireworks in the dim. Trails of sparks and embers floated through the air in calculated paths, following every movement of his weapons. The dark itself seemed to retreat from his presence as he moved, the orange of his fire pushing back even Izavelo’s green lantern light. 

 

It wasn’t all gravitas either. The paladin was quick on his feet too, falling into combat rolls with no hesitation only to pop up again with a spell cast during the dodge. His sword swings clapped with great sparks and steam when he hit the faling's shield, sounding as though he were shoving a hot poker into a frozen lake. And some of the spells  the monster even bothered to dodge, for they split aside magical barriers as if they were paper and left countless scorch marks on the wall as a testament to their power.

 

If this fight was happening in open land without the glass bird where Hans could use his magic with abandon, Silst was sure this fight would’ve ended in under a minute. As it was now, though, Silst wasn’t sure how long they could last before Izavelo got itself killed. And for some reason, the drake didn’t really want that to happen.

 

As to why, Silst had no concrete idea. It had enraptured them and brought them here against their will, and for that he should’ve by all rights been angry, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Was it that he saw no human remains in the cave? Or was it the fact that the glass bird just looked innocent to him? Maybe it was even a repressed memory of interacting with such creatures long ago in the Northspine. Regardless, it was clear that the Izavelo meant no actual harm to him and the humans and he was loath to just let it die. Nor did he really like the idea of a loathsome faling walking through Verol unchallenged.

 

As he watched the monster summon another dozen ice spears to hurl towards Hans, Silst noticed something off about the ripples surrounding it. It was only a momentary dimming, something barely perceptible to even him, but it gave him an idea that he thought could work.

 

He dove down from the roof, landing right beside Hans as he panted for breath behind a thick rock for cover.

 

“The Walker makes this more difficult than it needs.” Hans said once he saw the drake. “I can’t summon anything fatal if it continues to stand behind it.”

 

Silst nodded, barely moving when another spear of ice embedded itself into the other side of the rock they hid behind. They would need to both get Izavelo away and take down the faling's shield if they wanted this done any time in the next half hour. But fortunately, the drake had an idea for just that. He could only hope that the paladin could understand.

 

He used his neck to point his head towards himself, before he spread his wings wide, flattening them in his gliding stance in the charade for ‘fast, decisive strike’. The drake looked up and clicked his tongue four times. Then, he formed his wings above his head to form a circle, the common Northspine combat charade for ‘large, destructive’ just as another loud screech of glass on stone echoed through the cavern.

 

If the paladin was fluent in the ways of the Northspine, such signals would be interpreted as ‘I will strike, wait until result, then attack with all you have’, but Silst wasn’t overly convinced that the Veroline would know anything about their signal signing.

 

Sure enough, Hans shook his head apologetically.

 

“They don’t teach us those. Did you mean ‘attack on four’?”

 

Silst closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, his breath easily visible in the winter air. It was truly unfortunate that the most learned and understanding elder race of Elys was also the hardest to understand, when mere humans and dwarves could converse in each other’s tongues just fine without problems.

 

He shook his head before deciding to dumb down his signs. He slowly pointed at himself with his wings, then pointed in the direction of the faling. Then he pointed at Hans, raised a forelimb to his head, and waited for a second in the human sign for ‘eavesdropping’. Then, pointed to himself again and violently bit and tore at the air in front of him, as if he were fighting a rabid cat. Finally, he pointed gently at Hans and then at the faling and did the same.

 

If he made such signs towards someone in Doux Burgund, he knew it was almost likely to turn into a duel from the insinuation, but it was all he had left.

 

“Just wait for you to attack?” He chuckled as Silst nodded. “Why didn’t you just say so? What was with all those complicated charades?”

 

Silst growled at the man before leaping back into the air of the cavern. Humans! Bah!

 

Across the room, the faling had not been idle. The Walker of Woods now sported several more breaks and cracks on his feathers with almost no wounds on the faling to show for it. Even after all their fighting, the only good blow they’d gotten in had been when the princess had surprised him and let Silst freeze one of his arms.

 

From up there by the roof, Silst suddenly dive bombed, putting all his effort and speed into it. Thankfully, the faling was distracted enough by the Walker that he didn’t notice until it was too late, and the drake easily slipped right through his spherical outer shield. From just a couple feet away from the monster’s back, Silst unleashed all the frost and rime he could point blank into the monster’s hastily made shield.

 

The faling, suddenly finding the drake right beside him, overcorrected with his defences, shoving so many barriers to block Silst’s attack that the drake was forced to violently spin away towards the wall with almost no damage done to the bird. 

 

Despite that, Silst roared in satisfaction.

 

Almost immediately, before Silst was thrown, a projectile glowing of Esilmor’s finest red hurtled through the air. It found no great shields on the faling's front, and it tore straight through the beast’s torso like a ballista bolt through parchment. Screaming as it was shorn in half, the faling fell to the floor in heaps, its every barrier rippling out in brilliant white flashes. Its stave, its bearer dead halfway through a cast, split in half with a violent crack, a rapidly expanding sphere of air from its centre scattering its splinters all across the room. 

 

The cavern was silent for a moment, and nobody moved. Then, Izavelo raised its beak into the air, its lantern still glowing green, and sprang into birdsong. Silst roared to join it, and even Hans raised his stave in victory.

 

A faling slain! Not every dragon as young as he could brag of such a feat, especially not for a dragon so young as Silst. 

 

After it finished its short song, the Izavelo startled the drake by hopping across the cavern towards him, flapping its wings to balance on its remaining good leg. It shook the ground with each hop, only to stop right in front to loom over the small dragon. Silst stood his ground, watching as the bird looked down on him, the lights inside him and in his lantern glowing brightly.

 

After a second of this, Izavelo suddenly twisted its head to peck at its back, ripping one of its glass feathers from its back. It lowered its head in front of the drake, dropping the pristine feather on the ground. Then he returned to staring at the drake.

 

To Silst, the feather was beautiful. It faintly glowed in the edges of the glass, gleaming like the very light that had attracted him just some long minutes ago. It was neither chipped or cracked, and Silst was almost loath to touch it, in case he would somehow break it.

 

He looked back up to the round bird, only hesitating a second longer before he reached down and pressed his paw against it. Almost immediately, it changed.

 

The green light inside it shifted, changing to a deep blue to match his scales, and the feather floated into the air. Before he could even react, it flew towards the drake’s back, shrinking and rounding as it lodged itself into one of the chinks in his scales which had been ripped off in the previous battle. As Silst watched, it filled the gap, a single glass scale replacing the old that had been there. When he stared hard at it, he could detect a very faint glow of blue within it.

 

He turned back to the Walker and bowed his head in thanks for the gift, and Izavelo squawked. Then, the bird moved on, repeating the same gesture for everyone else in the room. For Hans, the feather turned into a broach on his cloak, which he accepted gladly. It then hopped to the Mavericks and Saphry, the former two still enthralled and the latter facedown on the floor, asleep.

 

There it jangled its lantern again, and the twins fell to their knees in the same way Saphry had done before, gasping and sobbing for something they’d never had. Izavelo did not wait for them to recover, instead opting to just drop the feathers directly on top of them. These two both morphed into matching bracelets which slid over their wrists, though they were too busy to notice.

 

For Saphry it simply looked at her strangely, as if confused as to what had happened. Eventually it dropped a feather on her as well, this one turning into an ornate band that fit itself on the back of her head, a glass feather adorned above her right ear.

 

Then, it turned towards the fallen faling again, and squawked triumphantly into the air in one final celebration of its victory.