The winds bellowed in Erin’s ears. The breeze streaked past her skin. The gust fluttered her tails about, showing off their magnificence and grandeur. This wasn’t Erin’s first time being high up in the skies, above the clouds. In her time as the Sword Saint and Argon Raze, she had been invited to numerous and various kinds of gathering. More often than not, the gathering tends to be on short notice and it took place on a whole other land, separated by the sea. The water route was the staple choice but if her inviters were rich beyond one’s imagination, they would send flying mounts for her. She was no stranger to the air route. However, Olivia was massive and she had a fully rational mind of her own. It was a completely different experience. Erin couldn’t help but be a tad nervous. She held on to the spikes protruding out her back.
“Did we lose them?” Lyra asked, breaking Erin out of her spell of unease. She was just as nervous as Erin but she had no problem displaying them.
“The fog is dense but so is their scent,” Siv answered. She was crouched low and her eyes paced forward without a hint of restlessness. Unlike the two, her hands were free and she relied solely on her own footing to stay on Olivia.
“We’re not losing them?”
“We’re gaining on them, in fact.”
Erin nodded along and swallowed a breath. She tried loosening her grip on the spikes but her muscles cramped in response as if they were begging for Erin not to let go. She tightened her grip and expelled a sigh. Her queer weakness vexed her. It wasn’t the height that she was afraid of but the absence of control over her own fate that was making her nerves quiver. Whenever Olivia took a dive or soared upwards, she could feel herself freezing with fear. Lyra would scream in the sharpest voice she could but Erin would remain silent and let her heart shriek.
“Are you nervous, mistress?” Siv asked. Her eyes were studying her.
“A bit,” Erin replied after she steadied her breaths.
“You’re afraid of heights?” Lyra asked in absolute wonder. A grin touched her lips slightly.
“No,” Erin shot. “I do just fine with heights.”
“Really?” Lyra was sceptical and it was apparent on her face.
Olivia glided through the clouds and steered to avoid a peak of the many mountains in the range. As she slanted horizontally to fit herself through a narrow gap between two peaks, Erin grabbed on to all the spikes she could by using her tails as extra grips. Her lips stay shut and she closed her eyes gently. Once they were through and Olivia repositioned herself back, she gasped softly and slowly peek through her eyelids. She found Lyra looking her way, all smiles and smirk.
“You are afraid of heights,” Lyra said with a giggle. She had a rough time too but the sight of Erin trembling in fear made her forget all about her own fears. “How unexpected.”
“I have told you, Lyra. It is not the height that I’m afraid of. It’s…” No other words came to her defence. Her tails and ears weren’t doing her defence any favours. They were true to her heart and desires. No matter how composed her expression stayed, her tails and ears were there to give them all away.
“It’s?” Lyra pressed with her smirking face.
“Oh, forget it,” she huffed and turned away.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, mistress,” Siv said. Sorrow crossed her face. “My brother was the same. He loves to give a good display of his capabilities but… his weakness gripped him tighter than the chains of fate. If only he would allow me to unbind them, then perhaps he would be…” Siv sniffed, wiping a tear that had squeezed its way out of her eye. “Anyway, you get my meaning, mistress. There’s no shame in showing one’s flaw. That’s the first step in conquering it.”
“I am not troubled by heights, damn it,” Erin refuted, ruffled. “I’m just not comfortable with being on the back of a living, moving, rational being way up in the skies. For all we know, she could just flip and drop us if she so wish and there’s nothing we can do.”
“I won’t do that, milady,” Olivia said, through the psionic medium. Her voice rang clear in everyone’s mind. “But if it’s only the human, then mayhaps I would.”
“You’re hearing her, Erin?” Lyra tutted. “Some kind of Dragon she is.”
“And you are everything I expect of a human,” Olivia retorted.
“You daughter of a—”
“Enough!” Erin raised her voice. “Save your quarrels until this is over. We must remain vigilant. There’s no telling if we won’t be ambushed.”
“Right, of course, Lady Erynthea. A thousand apologies,” Olivia said with her head lowered but not her elevation. God forbid if she lowered her elevation too, Erin secretly prayed.
“She started it,” Lyra grumbled.
“And you will finish it by shutting your lips.”
Lyra flinched. Though it wasn’t uncommon, Erin’s solemnity still terrified and thrilled her. It was like she was seeing a whole other Erin, most probably her character before she was Erynthea. Lyra was curious about her lover’s bizarre past as a man in his forties nearing the fifties. Most of all, she wanted to know how Erin could remain chaste for so long. Erin could have been ugly, Lyra thought, but she had seen the ugliest of men having beautiful women as their wives. She imagined Erin as a man in her daydreams. She imagined how much of a difference there would be if her lover was a man. Having her once broken by a man, she imagined she would not have fallen for her with ease but she didn’t doubt she would fall for her in due time. Was your pecker small? Lyra had wanted to ask but even she wasn’t so thoughtless.
“There,” Siv shouted with her finger pointing to the front. The black shape of a serpent with a bull walking on two feet atop whirling behind the thick mist.
“Alright, this is it,” Erin said, drawing her sabre and imbuing herself in Arcane Armour and lightning. “I’m going ahead. Olivia, I could fall. So be at the ready.”
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“Of course, milady.”
Nodding to Lyra and Siv, she kicked herself off and shot towards the Storm Mamba. The winds grazed her skin and the chill steeped into her nerves. They were high in the skies. The air was akin to the breath of winter at this height but with her blood pumping in a thrill, her whole body felt warm.
The Storm Mamba had yet to take notice of her or Olivia. The winds were blowing against the Mamba. As such, their scent could not reach its nose. The winds brushing past them were shrilling in their ears. The Mamba could not hear Olivia flying behind it.
The tip of the serpent’s tail came into her reach and she grabbed it with her tail. It was the right choice to invest in Mystica Tail Arts, she mused to herself. Her tails felt more and more like her limbs as she increased the Magic Art’s level and her Arcane stat. At this point, she wagered she was more attuned with her tails than her legs. Her legs could not get something from a shelf but her tails could.
The Storm Mamba shuddered as Erin landed on its back. It screeched, warning the Ox-kin resting atop. Lights of magic shrouded him as he remained still. The lights came from a glowing stone hovering above his head, showering him in glitters. His wounds from before were gone. The stone ceased to glow and the winds carried it away. The Rakar got to his feet, turned around, and brandished it labrys. He had even gotten back his left eye.
“Is my eye not enough? You seek my head too?” the Ox-kin scoffed. “Yet you dare deny your bloodthirst to my face. Does this simply not show how baleful of an individual you are?”
“You tried to kill me. Don’t twist the narrative. It’s only right and sound to make sure your attempted murderer does not get away. And who’s to say you won’t go after the innocents just to spite me. I won’t put that past people like you.”
The Ox-kin snorted. “You would put me on such a low ground? You’re despicable and shameless.”
“I’m not the one who’s running away. You are.” She flourished her sabre. “I will allow you to strike first.”
“Impudent!” the Ox-kin snarled and blinked in front of her, his labrys swinging.
Erin dodged low and countered with an upward slash. She missed, to her surprise. Their battle was staged on flimsy and unsteady ground. Her footing was all wrong and she could do nothing to fix it.
The Ox-kin, however, had no such issue. She didn’t know if his hooves played a part but he didn’t look perturbed by the shaking and undulating of their foothold.
They traded blows and crossed their blades. With each clash, Erin felt her strength leaving her. Receiving an attack without proper footwork was a parlous task and she was paying for the consequences. She could not put her instincts into their right places. Adding to her plight, the scales of the Storm Mamba was slippery. A moment’s loss of focus would bring about frightful outcomes. She trod carefully as she danced with her sword and her opponent. She had to be graceful and quick on her steps. Her opponent was heavy but no less slow and twice her strength. A single blow to her body would mean the end. The blow wouldn’t kill her but she would be knocked off and fall to her apparent death.
“What’s the matter, Fae!?” the Ox-kin mocked. He rained his blows down on Erin. His grin widened with every clash of their blades. “You’re slower than before and your strikes ain’t true anymore. You disappoint me.”
“I don’t live to appease you,” Erin retorted calmly in contrast to her dire frown. There was little to no room for her movements. She returned her form to the past ways. The form she used when she was Argon Raze. A form that made only the smallest movements with the most effectiveness. She backstepped and parried a flurry of attacks from the Ox-kin. She raised her sword and against a slash swung from over the shoulder. She veered the blow away and struck. The tip of her blade touched the Ox-kin’s shoulder before he retreated in his steps out of caution.
Erin simpered. “I can be less as slow and half as true and you still won’t stand a chance against me.”
“How pretentious. Spoken like a Fae,” he spat and charged.
Erin twirled and deflected each blow as she moved backwards. When she came to a stop, she spun around the Ox-kin with the little amount of room her feet had. Arriving behind him, she slashed. The Ox-kin turned around quickly to parry her slash. Her blade shook from the impact and the vibration flowed to her but she offset it by shocking herself with lightning before numbness overtook her hands.
The Ox-kin stared in disbelief. The Fox-kin was crafty and resourceful. He thought her to be a fool when she chose to fight him on the back of the serpent. He had severely underestimated her. Even at a disadvantage, she was gaining the upper ground. He thought her to be arrogant and naive but no, she was none of those. She understood better than he ever did. Her choice was made out of utter confidence in herself, something he never had, which led to his present appearance.
He roared to drown out his apprehensions. He tore himself out of his prison made of his shaken confidence. He set his labrys alight and swung. He witnessed Erin bending her pliant body to avoid his labrys. In that brief moment where gravity tugged on her fabrics, he saw her shapely and bulging mounds that were hidden beneath her humble clothes. He also saw her gainly figure that women had gone to lengths to achieve but never so perfect as hers. He felt a jolt in his loins and he grimaced. Ever since he swore his life to a Divine, he had cast aside his yearning for the pleasure of the flesh. Long into the vows, he had come across nubile and alluring ladies but none was able to sway his discipline, until now. There was something different about her.
He cursed himself of his weak will. He admonished himself of his desire’s advent. The Ancients were right, she was too much of a dangerous individual to be left alive. It wasn’t just her thirst for blood nor her unbridled potential. Her allure might just be the biggest factor of them all. He steeled himself and his heart.
“Flagrant, outrageous, and bold,” the Ox-kin muttered. “You are chaos and imbalance in the making.” The flames on his labrys burned stronger and brighter.
Erin blew her lips. “Whatever to ease your guilty conscious, bull,” she scoffed.
“My name is Aretov.”
“I do not care.”
“You should,” he said. His veins glowed in the colours of the flames. “Because I will be the one to send you to the other side.”
“Moments ago, you were running. But now you somehow gained the confidence to promise my death. Did you have a stroke from your own flames?”
“Mock all you want. Your death is near.”
Erin sighed. “Word, that’s all they are. Be silent and show it in your actions—” She dyed her blade in lustrous cyan sheen. “—before I show it to you.”
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