I hate rain. It’s impossible to avoid, makes the air hard to breathe and worst of all, it hurts no matter the energy I have.
Regardless of the strength I’ve gained, water is still as terrifying as it was when I was a child, freshly separated from my tribe. A lot of things that I was once scared of, now hardly faze me. But there are two things that I’ll never lose my fear of: Titans and water. Now, I get to experience both.
I clutch to Grímr’s chest, suspended as he cuts through the downpour. So close to the wall of water, I have no choice but to focus on the only other thing I can see, the buzzard Titan. Peeking past Grímr’s metallic tail trailing behind us, I can make out the outline of the impossibly massive bird resting upon the horizon.
The creature is hard to make out through the rain, but I’d much rather focus on the terror that is leagues away than that which surrounds me. Without my outfit, every little splash that hits me, feels like I’ve been whipped. Grímr has done an amazing job of covering me, but every now and then, a drop makes its way onto my fiery plumage.
After being trapped for months underground, I thought I’d be fine with anything as long as I wasn’t stuck under stone and rock, but this is definitely worse than being down there. I’m trapped clinging to Grímr. The only thing I can do is hope the rain lets up soon.
We still need to meet up with the mermineae before I can get my outfit back and have at least basic protection against the weather. Hopefully, Jav will snap out of the funk he’s in and fix up my snowsuit soon.
Placing my focus on the giant bird behind us might not be the smartest thing, but it’s easier to keep my mind off the water than following the land below. There is nothing interesting down there, so my focus always returns to the water’s proximity.
Water and Titans. Why do they have to exist? What would life be like if neither were around? I’d probably still be with my tribe back in the wasteland. A weak child slowly increasing the heat of her flame in the comfort of family.
If I had the chance to join another tribe, would I? Should the option present itself, would I return to the life of wandering the deserts with a new family?
Sometimes I feel nostalgic about those quiet moments with those close to me, and I realise how far away those memories are. Not only are they years in the past now, but I’m physically far from the wasteland now. An impossible distance, considering I’d have to pass the Alps to return there.
But… while the idea of a new tribe and the simplistic life I might have with them is appealing, I don’t think I could. I’m not even really sure why. The outside world is filled with dangers far exceeding what we faced in the wasteland. Birds that can cut me clean in half with a simple swing of their wing. Mystical disasters that create worlds with the things they consume and twist them in excessive ways. The extensive list of entrapping threats.
Even without considering water and Titans, the lands outside the wasteland are horrifying. And yet… I don’t want to go back.
My tribe is already dead. I’ve accepted that years ago now. If I was to go back, adopt the same lifestyle I did all that time ago, it would feel like everything I’ve done since has been pointless. Er… maybe not pointless, but it’d definitely be like feigning ignorance of the changes both around me and to myself.
I’ve gained far more strength than I’d thought possible when I joined Luis-Eight. So much more, yet it is lacking compared to the beasts we face. When will it be enough? I joined them to gain enough strength to avoid being trapped again, but the entire action of joining this team was what landed me under the Alps. So is it better for me to back off and stay away from what is dangerous, like most áed tribes do? Or should I continue to push head on into danger, risking my freedom and life for the chance of greater strength?
So which is better, a conservative attitude avoiding all risk, or an aggressive push to gain better defence?
The question itself is flawed.
Without sight of the future, it is impossible to determine which is better.
The former worked for my tribe until a risk too great tore everything apart. Henosis mages shook us out of our comfort. The Titan tore us apart, and no preparation could have readied us for that.
The latter has already bitten me. If I hadn’t been so willing to push for more strength, I’d have never been trapped. I never would have ended up over here, separated from friends. But, then again, I also never would have gained this much energy.
A gust of wind brushes a few raindrops over my back and I flinch away, hugging myself closer to Grímr. The rest of my team is riding on the alicanto’s back. Unlike me, they can stay out in the rain without care. The water not eating away at their bodies like it does mine.
I can hear them talking, but the wind’s strength is too great for me to distinguish any words. It didn’t take long to get Bunny talking again, simply asking what weapon she’d want to make first set her off on a spiral of ideas and weapon names that sound like gibberish to me.
We’re currently looking for the burrow that we agreed to meet at after freeing our team. We should have reached it hours ago, but the rain has made it all but impossible to find in the dark.
It was an hour after we dropped below the Lower Elevation into the Stepps that the rain hit. The crevasse on this side of the mountain is almost non-existent. Much of the glacier had fallen into its depths, leaving only the sudden shift from ice to earth as the only sign it was there in the first place.
It’s actually crazy how fast the mermineae can move. From what I can tell, they can reach nearly triple my maximum flying speed while entirely on the ground. Of course, once Grímr gets moving, he far surpasses that, but it doesn’t help that we have such a great distance to cover.
In an attempt to hide from the rain, I decrease the size of my body. Literally shrinking away from the water. I’m able to cut the size of my bird form in half, leaving me marginally smaller than Bunny’s head, but larger than Jav. Any further, and I hit a wall. The energy within me doesn’t want to compress beyond a certain density.
My chest aches when I push it too far, so I have to settle with this size. It’s better, but the odd gust of wind still whips a few drops of water over me.
The angle of Grímr’s wings notably drops, and we descend. I look down, trying to find if he’s found the meeting point. The weather interferes with my heat sense, so it is impossible to feel if any mermineae are below.
There, far ahead of us, are the landmarks we’ve been looking for. A curved crater dug in the ground and three boulders stacked on top of each other, both separated by a hundred metres.
As Grímr slows down, he curves us off to the right of the landmarks. The two iconic formations pointing toward our meeting point with Aana and Muuro.
Grímr comes in to land three hundred metres from the boulders. The well-hidden burrow only comes into view as Grímr’s talons slam into the earth. It’s a much better landing attempt than when we were trying to free the others, but he still has some work to do.
His wing closes around me. I’m thankful for the cover as he trots forward before diving into the hole. It’s far too small for him, but it takes almost no effort for him to widen the opening and worm his way inside.
I, along with Remus, Jav and Bunny, fall into the burrow while Grímr carves out a side of the wall for himself. Immediately, I fly to the back corner of the small space, keeping as far away from the puddle of water near the entrance.
Once I’m certain there’s no threat of the water reaching me here, I notice the four heat signatures hiding along the walls of the burrow. One of them is crawling away from where Grímr just took out a chunk of the wall.
I was only expecting Aana and Muuro, so I’m immediately put on edge. Do they plan to ambush us here? They know I can see them when they stay hidden though, so why wouldn’t they attack as soon as we entered? Regardless, I need to warn my team that there are more than expected.
“Aana? Muuro? Who are the other two hiding?” I demand, readying my flames to strike at any suspicious movement.
Thankfully, Remus and Tetsu are quick to guard, standing ready.
They take longer to respond than I’m happy to forgive, so I flare my flame in warning. The walls char under the sudden lick of flames. I spread a flicker toward each of the hiding mermineae, both showing my team where they are and telling the mermineae that they cannot hide.
“Whoa, whoa. There’s no need for that. We helped you, did we not?” Muuro finally drops his camouflage and walks away from the wall. Aana follows not long after.
It’s the other two that remain hidden that I worry about. I’m about to snap at them that this isn’t the time for games and maybe shorten their fur a bit, but Remus jumps in before I can.
“There’s no need for us to be hostile. We have the same goal.” With a casual smile in his eyes, he gestures for me to calm down.
Jav isn’t with him as usual. He’s still with Grímr near the entrance. Remus must have set him aside before speaking. I guess he isn’t ready to face those that have tormented them for so long. In fact, as I glance over at Bunny, I can tell she is barely holding back the fury in her eyes.
“We want to work together, but we can hardly do that if you refuse to show yourself.” Remus gives an intentional look to the places I pointed out.
Aana bites her lip as she looks between us and the hidden mermineae. She’s obviously nervous about something. I focus on the heat given off by the two creatures, trying to get any more information about them without igniting them where they stand.
The silence stretches as the two mermineae still refuse to show themselves.
Muuro speaks up for them. “If you could please just treat the—”
“I guess there is no point, then. Come, Saad. There’s no point if they know we are here,” a gruff voice speaks.
The two mermineae finally show themselves. Both have a wiry coat of fur with so many patches missing that I’m surprised they could even hide themselves. The speaker has a large scar running the length of his body, with an ear missing and one of his sharp teeth exposed by the damage. Saad, the other, has loose skin over much of his face in contrast to the usual tautness mermineae have.
They are obviously far older than the norm. They stand more assured of themselves than even the arrogant Muuro. The most notable aspect is the entirely grey eyes they share. Forvaal, but the cloudiness of their eyes has spread to leave no white nor pupil left.
Neither seems to look in any particular direction, but they have no trouble approaching Remus. Muuro lowers his head and steps out of their path.
I’m annoyed they ignore me and head straight for Remus. I mean, I was the one who’s done all the talking with the mermineae until now. Most of the work was done by me and they should know it, unless these Forvaal never talk. There’s no way it wasn’t intentional. I was the one that pointed them out and spoke first, after all.
Even if I’m annoyed at their obvious slight towards me, I shouldn’t care this much. It’s better that Remus take over the discussion. Not only because he is likely far better at negotiating than I am, but I’ll probably let my agitation get the better of me if I have to deal with them directly.
I note my bag on the ground by Aana’s side. I quickly grab it and fly back between Grímr and Bunny. Not so close to the water, but also not near the mermineae.
I gave a moment of consideration to whether I should stay in my bird form for a quick escape, but the heavy thrum of the downpour outside makes the decision easy. I have Grímr to carry me away if things go badly, anyway.
“So, you will talk to the outsiders on our behalf?” the old Forvaal with the scar asks.
Both Aana and Muuro act far more restrained in the presence of these two elderly mermineae. They bow their heads and hesitate to speak.
“Like I said, we have the same goal.” Remus’ eyes, while cheery, hold steadfast on the Forvaal before him. “I need to have a chat with them myself. You see, the mermineae travelling to our homeland would be problematic. So, assuming you want to keep them here as my team-members have told me, our partnership should be natural.”
The tension is near tangible as the elderly duo remain motionless, unspeaking in response. Bunny’s fists clench and the two younger Forvaal’s eyes dart between their elders and our group.
Saad grunts, and the scarred mermineae bares his fangs. I’m not sure if he’s trying to grin or threaten us.
“Yes, natural,” he says. “May the great Kalma not curse our collaboration, and shall we achieve our mission without her knowledge.” He clasps his hands in front of the patchy fur of his chest.
“Welcome to the Euroclydon’s hunting ground.”
I hate rain. It’s impossible to avoid, makes the air hard to breathe and worst of all, it hurts no matter the energy I have.
Regardless of the strength I’ve gained, water is still as terrifying as it was when I was a child, freshly separated from my tribe. A lot of things that I was once scared of, now hardly faze me. But there are two things that I’ll never lose my fear of: Titans and water. Now, I get to experience both.
I clutch to Grímr’s chest, suspended as he cuts through the downpour. So close to the wall of water, I have no choice but to focus on the only other thing I can see, the buzzard Titan. Peeking past Grímr’s metallic tail trailing behind us, I can make out the outline of the impossibly massive bird resting upon the horizon.
The creature is hard to make out through the rain, but I’d much rather focus on the terror that is leagues away than that which surrounds me. Without my outfit, every little splash that hits me, feels like I’ve been whipped. Grímr has done an amazing job of covering me, but every now and then, a drop makes its way onto my fiery plumage.
After being trapped for months underground, I thought I’d be fine with anything as long as I wasn’t stuck under stone and rock, but this is definitely worse than being down there. I’m trapped clinging to Grímr. The only thing I can do is hope the rain lets up soon.
We still need to meet up with the mermineae before I can get my outfit back and have at least basic protection against the weather. Hopefully, Jav will snap out of the funk he’s in and fix up my snowsuit soon.
Placing my focus on the giant bird behind us might not be the smartest thing, but it’s easier to keep my mind off the water than following the land below. There is nothing interesting down there, so my focus always returns to the water’s proximity.
Water and Titans. Why do they have to exist? What would life be like if neither were around? I’d probably still be with my tribe back in the wasteland. A weak child slowly increasing the heat of her flame in the comfort of family.
If I had the chance to join another tribe, would I? Should the option present itself, would I return to the life of wandering the deserts with a new family?
Sometimes I feel nostalgic about those quiet moments with those close to me, and I realise how far away those memories are. Not only are they years in the past now, but I’m physically far from the wasteland now. An impossible distance, considering I’d have to pass the Alps to return there.
But… while the idea of a new tribe and the simplistic life I might have with them is appealing, I don’t think I could. I’m not even really sure why. The outside world is filled with dangers far exceeding what we faced in the wasteland. Birds that can cut me clean in half with a simple swing of their wing. Mystical disasters that create worlds with the things they consume and twist them in excessive ways. The extensive list of entrapping threats.
Even without considering water and Titans, the lands outside the wasteland are horrifying. And yet… I don’t want to go back.
My tribe is already dead. I’ve accepted that years ago now. If I was to go back, adopt the same lifestyle I did all that time ago, it would feel like everything I’ve done since has been pointless. Er… maybe not pointless, but it’d definitely be like feigning ignorance of the changes both around me and to myself.
I’ve gained far more strength than I’d thought possible when I joined Luis-Eight. So much more, yet it is lacking compared to the beasts we face. When will it be enough? I joined them to gain enough strength to avoid being trapped again, but the entire action of joining this team was what landed me under the Alps. So is it better for me to back off and stay away from what is dangerous, like most áed tribes do? Or should I continue to push head on into danger, risking my freedom and life for the chance of greater strength?
So which is better, a conservative attitude avoiding all risk, or an aggressive push to gain better defence?
The question itself is flawed.
Without sight of the future, it is impossible to determine which is better.
The former worked for my tribe until a risk too great tore everything apart. Henosis mages shook us out of our comfort. The Titan tore us apart, and no preparation could have readied us for that.
The latter has already bitten me. If I hadn’t been so willing to push for more strength, I’d have never been trapped. I never would have ended up over here, separated from friends. But, then again, I also never would have gained this much energy.
A gust of wind brushes a few raindrops over my back and I flinch away, hugging myself closer to Grímr. The rest of my team is riding on the alicanto’s back. Unlike me, they can stay out in the rain without care. The water not eating away at their bodies like it does mine.
I can hear them talking, but the wind’s strength is too great for me to distinguish any words. It didn’t take long to get Bunny talking again, simply asking what weapon she’d want to make first set her off on a spiral of ideas and weapon names that sound like gibberish to me.
We’re currently looking for the burrow that we agreed to meet at after freeing our team. We should have reached it hours ago, but the rain has made it all but impossible to find in the dark.
It was an hour after we dropped below the Lower Elevation into the Stepps that the rain hit. The crevasse on this side of the mountain is almost non-existent. Much of the glacier had fallen into its depths, leaving only the sudden shift from ice to earth as the only sign it was there in the first place.
It’s actually crazy how fast the mermineae can move. From what I can tell, they can reach nearly triple my maximum flying speed while entirely on the ground. Of course, once Grímr gets moving, he far surpasses that, but it doesn’t help that we have such a great distance to cover.
In an attempt to hide from the rain, I decrease the size of my body. Literally shrinking away from the water. I’m able to cut the size of my bird form in half, leaving me marginally smaller than Bunny’s head, but larger than Jav. Any further, and I hit a wall. The energy within me doesn’t want to compress beyond a certain density.
My chest aches when I push it too far, so I have to settle with this size. It’s better, but the odd gust of wind still whips a few drops of water over me.
The angle of Grímr’s wings notably drops, and we descend. I look down, trying to find if he’s found the meeting point. The weather interferes with my heat sense, so it is impossible to feel if any mermineae are below.
There, far ahead of us, are the landmarks we’ve been looking for. A curved crater dug in the ground and three boulders stacked on top of each other, both separated by a hundred metres.
As Grímr slows down, he curves us off to the right of the landmarks. The two iconic formations pointing toward our meeting point with Aana and Muuro.
Grímr comes in to land three hundred metres from the boulders. The well-hidden burrow only comes into view as Grímr’s talons slam into the earth. It’s a much better landing attempt than when we were trying to free the others, but he still has some work to do.
His wing closes around me. I’m thankful for the cover as he trots forward before diving into the hole. It’s far too small for him, but it takes almost no effort for him to widen the opening and worm his way inside.
I, along with Remus, Jav and Bunny, fall into the burrow while Grímr carves out a side of the wall for himself. Immediately, I fly to the back corner of the small space, keeping as far away from the puddle of water near the entrance.
Once I’m certain there’s no threat of the water reaching me here, I notice the four heat signatures hiding along the walls of the burrow. One of them is crawling away from where Grímr just took out a chunk of the wall.
I was only expecting Aana and Muuro, so I’m immediately put on edge. Do they plan to ambush us here? They know I can see them when they stay hidden though, so why wouldn’t they attack as soon as we entered? Regardless, I need to warn my team that there are more than expected.
“Aana? Muuro? Who are the other two hiding?” I demand, readying my flames to strike at any suspicious movement.
Thankfully, Remus and Tetsu are quick to guard, standing ready.
They take longer to respond than I’m happy to forgive, so I flare my flame in warning. The walls char under the sudden lick of flames. I spread a flicker toward each of the hiding mermineae, both showing my team where they are and telling the mermineae that they cannot hide.
“Whoa, whoa. There’s no need for that. We helped you, did we not?” Muuro finally drops his camouflage and walks away from the wall. Aana follows not long after.
It’s the other two that remain hidden that I worry about. I’m about to snap at them that this isn’t the time for games and maybe shorten their fur a bit, but Remus jumps in before I can.
“There’s no need for us to be hostile. We have the same goal.” With a casual smile in his eyes, he gestures for me to calm down.
Jav isn’t with him as usual. He’s still with Grímr near the entrance. Remus must have set him aside before speaking. I guess he isn’t ready to face those that have tormented them for so long. In fact, as I glance over at Bunny, I can tell she is barely holding back the fury in her eyes.
“We want to work together, but we can hardly do that if you refuse to show yourself.” Remus gives an intentional look to the places I pointed out.
Aana bites her lip as she looks between us and the hidden mermineae. She’s obviously nervous about something. I focus on the heat given off by the two creatures, trying to get any more information about them without igniting them where they stand.
The silence stretches as the two mermineae still refuse to show themselves.
Muuro speaks up for them. “If you could please just treat the—”
“I guess there is no point, then. Come, Saad. There’s no point if they know we are here,” a gruff voice speaks.
The two mermineae finally show themselves. Both have a wiry coat of fur with so many patches missing that I’m surprised they could even hide themselves. The speaker has a large scar running the length of his body, with an ear missing and one of his sharp teeth exposed by the damage. Saad, the other, has loose skin over much of his face in contrast to the usual tautness mermineae have.
They are obviously far older than the norm. They stand more assured of themselves than even the arrogant Muuro. The most notable aspect is the entirely grey eyes they share. Forvaal, but the cloudiness of their eyes has spread to leave no white nor pupil left.
Neither seems to look in any particular direction, but they have no trouble approaching Remus. Muuro lowers his head and steps out of their path.
I’m annoyed they ignore me and head straight for Remus. I mean, I was the one who’s done all the talking with the mermineae until now. Most of the work was done by me and they should know it, unless these Forvaal never talk. There’s no way it wasn’t intentional. I was the one that pointed them out and spoke first, after all.
Even if I’m annoyed at their obvious slight towards me, I shouldn’t care this much. It’s better that Remus take over the discussion. Not only because he is likely far better at negotiating than I am, but I’ll probably let my agitation get the better of me if I have to deal with them directly.
I note my bag on the ground by Aana’s side. I quickly grab it and fly back between Grímr and Bunny. Not so close to the water, but also not near the mermineae.
I gave a moment of consideration to whether I should stay in my bird form for a quick escape, but the heavy thrum of the downpour outside makes the decision easy. I have Grímr to carry me away if things go badly, anyway.
“So, you will talk to the outsiders on our behalf?” the old Forvaal with the scar asks.
Both Aana and Muuro act far more restrained in the presence of these two elderly mermineae. They bow their heads and hesitate to speak.
“Like I said, we have the same goal.” Remus’ eyes, while cheery, hold steadfast on the Forvaal before him. “I need to have a chat with them myself. You see, the mermineae travelling to our homeland would be problematic. So, assuming you want to keep them here as my team-members have told me, our partnership should be natural.”
The tension is near tangible as the elderly duo remain motionless, unspeaking in response. Bunny’s fists clench and the two younger Forvaal’s eyes dart between their elders and our group.
Saad grunts, and the scarred mermineae bares his fangs. I’m not sure if he’s trying to grin or threaten us.
“Yes, natural,” he says. “May the great Kalma not curse our collaboration, and shall we achieve our mission without her knowledge.” He clasps his hands in front of the patchy fur of his chest.
“Welcome to the Euroclydon’s hunting ground.”
