“Hey, can we skip this one?” I ask. “I’m sure we’ll be fine with whatever Beith we find at the next search point.”
As we approach the expanse of water, I lose my nerve. Just the sight of it is enough to make me want to run. The water sways back and forth. Waves crash against the shore, climbing a dozen metres across the earth before receding.
“Come now, there’s hardly anything to fea—” Remus cuts himself off before reconsidering. “Alright, you, Grímr and Jav stay back. The rest of us will head on.”
I didn’t actually expect him to agree, but I’m not about to complain. Even if he knows I fear the water, it didn’t stop him from forcing me onward the last time I was terrified.
It’s good to know he’s reflected on what he’s done. But it’s not like he needs all of us to talk with whatever Beith mercenary they find. Imiha is strong enough to at least put up a fight. In a stressful situation or when he decides something is important, I don’t think I could ever trust his decisions.
I don’t hate my team for what they did, nor can I hold a grudge after what they experienced, even if I haven’t forgiven them.
Hardly any time passed after I told them of my cleithrophobia when they forced me down into those tunnels. I understand their reasons now, but how can I know their own ideas of what is good for me won’t conflict once more in the future?
I can never truly trust Remus, Jav, or Bunny again.
Grímr is the only one who stood up for me at the time. The one to stay by my side throughout those entrapping tunnels. Only he, I would trust with my life.
That’s not to say I plan to pointlessly throw myself into a position where my life or freedom would be threatened. But should the day come where I have to choose, I’ll rely on Grímr over anyone else.
We land a good few hundred metres from the lake and the others head on without us. Jav is quick to pull out his thin needle and work on his wingsuit. I watch as he works to fix the wings with thread scraps salvaged from other parts of his clothes. His tiny digits move with rapid precision to reform the material between his arms and torso.
“Will you have enough to remake them?” I ask.
He startles at my voice but quickly calms. “Uh… I need to dismantle much of the suit to get the wings to basic functionality. My sisters have always been better at this, but it should let me fly again.”
Despite his timidness, it’s great to see him getting better. I’m not sure if there’s anything I could do to help him recover, but that he has something he’s working toward is a good thing.
I shouldn’t mention that he won’t get much of an opportunity. If he flies without Grímr by his side, he’s likely to get torn apart by an enantiorn or any of the other massive birds we’ve seen scouring the plains. There’s a reason I’ve stayed in my default form the past few weeks.
The scattered clouds still speed overhead. The winds from the Titan must be blowing far stronger at higher altitudes for them to cross the sky this quickly. Brief flashes of light within each continue with regularity. They are concerning when directly overhead, but the phenomenon is oddly soothing to watch.
A blinding flash of light fills my vision, followed momentarily by the thrumming crack of thunder. From many of those small isolated thunderclouds, originates a series of forked lightning that snaps together in a mighty bolt that strikes the lake.
I jump to my feet. I’m not the only one startled; Jav flinches, sending the tiny needle flying out of his grasp.
That lightning strike was brighter than any other I’ve seen. As I look over the lake, a plume of vapour rises from the area of impact. The clouds above no longer flash with energy. It must have all been unloaded into the lake.
It can’t be a coincidence that the lightning hit as soon as our team approached the lake.
Against my better judgement, I get Grímr to take me closer. I don’t want to go anywhere near all that water, but I need to make sure the others are safe.
We retrieve Jav’s needle and walk toward the shore. I stick to Grímr’s back, keeping as far away from the wet ground as I can despite the boots that should keep me dry. The wind blowing over the lake keeps the waves rough. Every time they crash against the bank, I worry that it’ll come all that much closer.
“We don’t have to do this, Solvei. They’ll be fine by themselves,” Grímr reassures me.
“I just want to get close enough to see them. No more.”
There, along the water’s edge a few hundred metres away, I spot them. Thankfully, they all appear fine. They’ve moved fast to get so far around the lake. Grímr stops and we watch them travel along the shore.
It’s good to know they’re okay. That lightning bolt must have been coincidental after all.
I’m about to ask Grímr to take me away from the water again, when a spark of lightning chains out across the lake. Unlike before, it doesn’t drop from the storm-clouds above. It originates at a point ahead of our team and lasts for multiple seconds. Enough time to see that beside the bright white core of the lightning, it tinges the air with a hint of violet.
The thunder rolls through us like a series of chuckles, before abruptly cutting off with the end of the light-show. None of the arcs came close to us, but I can still feel the tingle of electricity in the air.
“Shit,” Grímr breaths beneath me. It’s not like him to swear.
“What?”
“That’s Spenne. No doubt in my mind.”
Grímr seems concerned, but that name means nothing to me. “Who?”
“He’s one of the few áinfean in the Mercenary Order. Easily the strongest.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
Grímr struggles to answer immediately. “I don’t like saying this, because his nieces and nephews are close friends, but he’s a lunatic.” He pauses. “I’ll tell you this now; don’t trust him. He has an outgoing and cheerful exterior, but he won’t think twice about tearing you apart if he thinks he’ll find amusement in it.”
I look closer toward where the lightning originated and spot a white figure just as it dives into the water.
“I should also mention he is probably the only áinfean to fear nothing.”
My team reaches the shore, but don’t follow. Soon, a disturbance in the water announces the áinfean’s return. He trudges out of the water with a massive flat, scaled tail in his grasp. Each step he takes out of the water only shows how large the creature is. It’s at least fifteen metres long, and he drags it out like it’s nothing.
A chuckle, like rumbling thunder, echoes through the area. It’s kinda creepy how far his voice rolls. The sleek creature he pulls from the lake is already dead. It’s a strange-looking animal. Lacking legs or arms. Instead, flat growths appear in odd areas of its grey scaled skin.
It’s longer, and more snake-like, but the creature is very similar to the fish Jav caught back near the pact nations. The fins — I remember them being called — and tail are similar enough to make the comparison.
Spenne, the áinfean, approaches my team. His booming voice audible even as this far, but the words aren’t clear.
“How strong is he?” I ask. Unlike the last Beiths we found, Grímr could recognise who it was simply by the power shown. I want to know what we’re dealing with before I rejoin my team, especially if the áinfean is a lunatic.
“He’s the strongest of his race. There is no contest, nobody comes close. Amongst the Beith mercs, he’s probably one of the top that aren’t a part of the Order’s trusted inner circle.”
“With Imiha on our side, how do we fare if a fight starts?”
Grímr gives me a concerned look.
Hey! There’s no need for that! I’m not planning to fight. I just want to be prepared in case it comes down to it.
“Imiha is strong, but she’s young and unrefined, as are you.” I give him a glare, but he continues on. “Spenne is older than Remus. To put it simply, we don’t stand a chance if he turns against us.”
So what? He’s comparable to Hund? I hope not.
“Should we join them?” I ask. I’m unsure if we should hide from such a person.
“Yes. He already knows we’re here, so there’s no point waiting around.”
I’d like to say I’m surprised that he would know we’re here, but considering I can already feel heat from a hundred metres away, I have no doubt someone so much stronger would have their own methods. That, and we haven’t really been hiding ourselves. Grímr is pretty big.
As we skirt our way to them, I glance up at the tumbling clouds above. In the short time since the áinfean pulled at their energy, they have charged once more. Brief flashes light up within them as they coast through the air.
It feels like it’s been far too short a time, but here we are. I’d hoped Grímr would take a slower route. For some reason, I’m nervous about meeting this áinfean. Did Grímr’s talk of him being a lunatic get to me? I’ve got to shake that thought from my mind. Treat him as I would any other on our first meet.
“Ah, finally! Everyone’s arrived.” His voice still thrums through my chest like thunder. Not every áinfean is like this, right? It’s just cause he’s strong.
Spenne is strange. The most noticeable thing is the slick white wraps that wind around each part of his body like bandages. In the small areas of his body left open to air, like his eyes, mouth and some places along his arms where the wraps have loosened, arcing electricity thrums.
As an áinfean, he is similar to áed in that his body is formed completely by the element he is bound. But he doesn’t seem to have any intent on controlling and hiding his electricity as we do our flame. Every few seconds, an arc zaps out through the wraps and winds down his arms or along his spine.
He stands on two legs that protrude from the torso that continues in a thick tail not unlike that of the fish he pulled from the lake. His upper body is hunched and long, thin spines poke through the white wraps along his spine. The face of the áinfean is wide, flat and pointy, like the edge of a dull axe. His eyes, small beady things that glow with power, lie on the top half of his head, while a wide, tooth filled maw spans the bottom.
Spenne fixes the three of us with a glance before he returns to Remus. He shows no interest in us.
“Of course, old friend, I will definitely help. How could we ever let these creatures attack our homes?”
I can hear a constant humming of electricity simply being in the áinfean’s presence. Each time he speaks, the humming amplifies, giving his voice a strange frenetic tone.
“But, more importantly, who wants some fried fish? I’m not great at making the crumb from back home, but you wouldn’t believe how great these whoppers taste.”
Spenne slaps his hand on the belly of the fish, and lightning cracks, forking over the corpse. Thunder booms and I have to clamp down on my urge to back away. The power that fills the air really is like nothing I’ve felt from anyone but Hund. And I’m almost certain he hasn’t used his presence.
The bolt of electricity was brief, but the body of the fish falls apart in cubes, as if cut by a knife. He must do this often; the fillets are all perfectly cooked with branch-like patterns through the meat.
I glance over at Remus, who seems concerned, but resigned. If what Grímr was saying is true, this áinfean might be more than helpful when we have to face the mermineae. But he might also be too big a risk to keep around. There’s probably a reason he’s not out here alone, without a team.
I’m just glad he isn’t another Imiha, determined to open me up like a research subject.
Wait, he’s an áinfean, why isn’t she trying to cut him open? What bias. I send a glare at her, but she just looks back in confusion. She’s oddly quiet, and I notice she’s backed off to let Remus take the lead. Is she afraid of Spenne?
The áinfean swallows a chunk of fish about the size of my body in a single gulp.
Yeah, okay. I don’t blame her.
“Hey, can we skip this one?” I ask. “I’m sure we’ll be fine with whatever Beith we find at the next search point.”
As we approach the expanse of water, I lose my nerve. Just the sight of it is enough to make me want to run. The water sways back and forth. Waves crash against the shore, climbing a dozen metres across the earth before receding.
“Come now, there’s hardly anything to fea—” Remus cuts himself off before reconsidering. “Alright, you, Grímr and Jav stay back. The rest of us will head on.”
I didn’t actually expect him to agree, but I’m not about to complain. Even if he knows I fear the water, it didn’t stop him from forcing me onward the last time I was terrified.
It’s good to know he’s reflected on what he’s done. But it’s not like he needs all of us to talk with whatever Beith mercenary they find. Imiha is strong enough to at least put up a fight. In a stressful situation or when he decides something is important, I don’t think I could ever trust his decisions.
I don’t hate my team for what they did, nor can I hold a grudge after what they experienced, even if I haven’t forgiven them.
Hardly any time passed after I told them of my cleithrophobia when they forced me down into those tunnels. I understand their reasons now, but how can I know their own ideas of what is good for me won’t conflict once more in the future?
I can never truly trust Remus, Jav, or Bunny again.
Grímr is the only one who stood up for me at the time. The one to stay by my side throughout those entrapping tunnels. Only he, I would trust with my life.
That’s not to say I plan to pointlessly throw myself into a position where my life or freedom would be threatened. But should the day come where I have to choose, I’ll rely on Grímr over anyone else.
We land a good few hundred metres from the lake and the others head on without us. Jav is quick to pull out his thin needle and work on his wingsuit. I watch as he works to fix the wings with thread scraps salvaged from other parts of his clothes. His tiny digits move with rapid precision to reform the material between his arms and torso.
“Will you have enough to remake them?” I ask.
He startles at my voice but quickly calms. “Uh… I need to dismantle much of the suit to get the wings to basic functionality. My sisters have always been better at this, but it should let me fly again.”
Despite his timidness, it’s great to see him getting better. I’m not sure if there’s anything I could do to help him recover, but that he has something he’s working toward is a good thing.
I shouldn’t mention that he won’t get much of an opportunity. If he flies without Grímr by his side, he’s likely to get torn apart by an enantiorn or any of the other massive birds we’ve seen scouring the plains. There’s a reason I’ve stayed in my default form the past few weeks.
The scattered clouds still speed overhead. The winds from the Titan must be blowing far stronger at higher altitudes for them to cross the sky this quickly. Brief flashes of light within each continue with regularity. They are concerning when directly overhead, but the phenomenon is oddly soothing to watch.
A blinding flash of light fills my vision, followed momentarily by the thrumming crack of thunder. From many of those small isolated thunderclouds, originates a series of forked lightning that snaps together in a mighty bolt that strikes the lake.
I jump to my feet. I’m not the only one startled; Jav flinches, sending the tiny needle flying out of his grasp.
That lightning strike was brighter than any other I’ve seen. As I look over the lake, a plume of vapour rises from the area of impact. The clouds above no longer flash with energy. It must have all been unloaded into the lake.
It can’t be a coincidence that the lightning hit as soon as our team approached the lake.
Against my better judgement, I get Grímr to take me closer. I don’t want to go anywhere near all that water, but I need to make sure the others are safe.
We retrieve Jav’s needle and walk toward the shore. I stick to Grímr’s back, keeping as far away from the wet ground as I can despite the boots that should keep me dry. The wind blowing over the lake keeps the waves rough. Every time they crash against the bank, I worry that it’ll come all that much closer.
“We don’t have to do this, Solvei. They’ll be fine by themselves,” Grímr reassures me.
“I just want to get close enough to see them. No more.”
There, along the water’s edge a few hundred metres away, I spot them. Thankfully, they all appear fine. They’ve moved fast to get so far around the lake. Grímr stops and we watch them travel along the shore.
It’s good to know they’re okay. That lightning bolt must have been coincidental after all.
I’m about to ask Grímr to take me away from the water again, when a spark of lightning chains out across the lake. Unlike before, it doesn’t drop from the storm-clouds above. It originates at a point ahead of our team and lasts for multiple seconds. Enough time to see that beside the bright white core of the lightning, it tinges the air with a hint of violet.
The thunder rolls through us like a series of chuckles, before abruptly cutting off with the end of the light-show. None of the arcs came close to us, but I can still feel the tingle of electricity in the air.
“Shit,” Grímr breaths beneath me. It’s not like him to swear.
“What?”
“That’s Spenne. No doubt in my mind.”
Grímr seems concerned, but that name means nothing to me. “Who?”
“He’s one of the few áinfean in the Mercenary Order. Easily the strongest.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
Grímr struggles to answer immediately. “I don’t like saying this, because his nieces and nephews are close friends, but he’s a lunatic.” He pauses. “I’ll tell you this now; don’t trust him. He has an outgoing and cheerful exterior, but he won’t think twice about tearing you apart if he thinks he’ll find amusement in it.”
I look closer toward where the lightning originated and spot a white figure just as it dives into the water.
“I should also mention he is probably the only áinfean to fear nothing.”
My team reaches the shore, but don’t follow. Soon, a disturbance in the water announces the áinfean’s return. He trudges out of the water with a massive flat, scaled tail in his grasp. Each step he takes out of the water only shows how large the creature is. It’s at least fifteen metres long, and he drags it out like it’s nothing.
A chuckle, like rumbling thunder, echoes through the area. It’s kinda creepy how far his voice rolls. The sleek creature he pulls from the lake is already dead. It’s a strange-looking animal. Lacking legs or arms. Instead, flat growths appear in odd areas of its grey scaled skin.
It’s longer, and more snake-like, but the creature is very similar to the fish Jav caught back near the pact nations. The fins — I remember them being called — and tail are similar enough to make the comparison.
Spenne, the áinfean, approaches my team. His booming voice audible even as this far, but the words aren’t clear.
“How strong is he?” I ask. Unlike the last Beiths we found, Grímr could recognise who it was simply by the power shown. I want to know what we’re dealing with before I rejoin my team, especially if the áinfean is a lunatic.
“He’s the strongest of his race. There is no contest, nobody comes close. Amongst the Beith mercs, he’s probably one of the top that aren’t a part of the Order’s trusted inner circle.”
“With Imiha on our side, how do we fare if a fight starts?”
Grímr gives me a concerned look.
Hey! There’s no need for that! I’m not planning to fight. I just want to be prepared in case it comes down to it.
“Imiha is strong, but she’s young and unrefined, as are you.” I give him a glare, but he continues on. “Spenne is older than Remus. To put it simply, we don’t stand a chance if he turns against us.”
So what? He’s comparable to Hund? I hope not.
“Should we join them?” I ask. I’m unsure if we should hide from such a person.
“Yes. He already knows we’re here, so there’s no point waiting around.”
I’d like to say I’m surprised that he would know we’re here, but considering I can already feel heat from a hundred metres away, I have no doubt someone so much stronger would have their own methods. That, and we haven’t really been hiding ourselves. Grímr is pretty big.
As we skirt our way to them, I glance up at the tumbling clouds above. In the short time since the áinfean pulled at their energy, they have charged once more. Brief flashes light up within them as they coast through the air.
It feels like it’s been far too short a time, but here we are. I’d hoped Grímr would take a slower route. For some reason, I’m nervous about meeting this áinfean. Did Grímr’s talk of him being a lunatic get to me? I’ve got to shake that thought from my mind. Treat him as I would any other on our first meet.
“Ah, finally! Everyone’s arrived.” His voice still thrums through my chest like thunder. Not every áinfean is like this, right? It’s just cause he’s strong.
Spenne is strange. The most noticeable thing is the slick white wraps that wind around each part of his body like bandages. In the small areas of his body left open to air, like his eyes, mouth and some places along his arms where the wraps have loosened, arcing electricity thrums.
As an áinfean, he is similar to áed in that his body is formed completely by the element he is bound. But he doesn’t seem to have any intent on controlling and hiding his electricity as we do our flame. Every few seconds, an arc zaps out through the wraps and winds down his arms or along his spine.
He stands on two legs that protrude from the torso that continues in a thick tail not unlike that of the fish he pulled from the lake. His upper body is hunched and long, thin spines poke through the white wraps along his spine. The face of the áinfean is wide, flat and pointy, like the edge of a dull axe. His eyes, small beady things that glow with power, lie on the top half of his head, while a wide, tooth filled maw spans the bottom.
Spenne fixes the three of us with a glance before he returns to Remus. He shows no interest in us.
“Of course, old friend, I will definitely help. How could we ever let these creatures attack our homes?”
I can hear a constant humming of electricity simply being in the áinfean’s presence. Each time he speaks, the humming amplifies, giving his voice a strange frenetic tone.
“But, more importantly, who wants some fried fish? I’m not great at making the crumb from back home, but you wouldn’t believe how great these whoppers taste.”
Spenne slaps his hand on the belly of the fish, and lightning cracks, forking over the corpse. Thunder booms and I have to clamp down on my urge to back away. The power that fills the air really is like nothing I’ve felt from anyone but Hund. And I’m almost certain he hasn’t used his presence.
The bolt of electricity was brief, but the body of the fish falls apart in cubes, as if cut by a knife. He must do this often; the fillets are all perfectly cooked with branch-like patterns through the meat.
I glance over at Remus, who seems concerned, but resigned. If what Grímr was saying is true, this áinfean might be more than helpful when we have to face the mermineae. But he might also be too big a risk to keep around. There’s probably a reason he’s not out here alone, without a team.
I’m just glad he isn’t another Imiha, determined to open me up like a research subject.
Wait, he’s an áinfean, why isn’t she trying to cut him open? What bias. I send a glare at her, but she just looks back in confusion. She’s oddly quiet, and I notice she’s backed off to let Remus take the lead. Is she afraid of Spenne?
The áinfean swallows a chunk of fish about the size of my body in a single gulp.
Yeah, okay. I don’t blame her.
