Elmira

Amid the chaos and turmoil inside her, the most wonderful melody she had ever heard pierced through the paralyzing terror and adrenaline that tensed her muscles for flight or fight. The most beautiful notes she had ever heard eased her pain and worry and confusion, with perfection only rivaled by the efficiency with which it soothed and calmed the storm that raged within her at the sight of the massacre.

She wanted to hear more of it. Hear it better. Hear it closer. This time, when she glanced over the cliff’s edge, the harpy beckoned her with a radiant smile. Come to me, she said, join me. The woman pointed to the path laid out between them, covered with flowers. The music soared until her heart ached with its beauty. More. She wanted more. Silence was vile in comparison with this exquisiteness.

A sharp, brutal pain shot through her head with a resounding thunderclap that nearly brought her to her knees. Staggering, Elmira shook her head as her vision cleared and she leaped back from the fifty-foot sheer drop under her foot.

Everything erupted into chaos. The music became a screech ripping through the air. On the path ahead, the actual path she had followed, a figure appeared. Familiar, very, very familiar. Brown locks tied back in a braid, short, pointed ears, monk robes flowing in the wind as the apparition moved towards her, reaching out with a desperate plea.

Lani. It was her Lani. Just as she remembered her. Except it did not make sense. Why would she be here? Beneath the plateau where nothing but misery and desperation thrived? On a path no one had trodden in decades, by the looks of the vegetation.

“Nice try, bitch.” Elmira growled and spun to fling two of her daggers at the queen of the harpies.

They hit the monster square in the chest and sank five inches deep into the soft flesh before they blinked back to her palms. The harpy let out a shrill war cry, black blood dripping from the wounds as she, it, took to the air with her gargantuan wings spanning 30 feet from tip to tip.

The forest around them erupted with answering calls.

Crouching down in a defensive position, Elmira drew a symbol with her weapons in the dirt and cried: “Oh, Fatestitcher, bring me your light!”

Time between one breath and the next stopped and extended as though the very fabric of reality hesitated. Her goddess had forsaken her but an hour ago, casting her adrift in a sea of doubt. Would she hold that grudge now, when the threat was so immediate, so raw?

The answer was a fleeting thought swallowed by the pulse of urgency as her daggers burst with divine flame. Ayursha’s grace, however distant, answered her call.

Threads of gold spun around the blades till they grew three times their length just as a pair of claws dug into her shoulder, piercing her armor just above the collar. Her vision darkened with blinding pain, before she dropped to the ground, pulling a new, much smaller harpy with her in the fall.

With the monster off balance, she took her opportunity to twist out of its grip, but the claws were in deep and caught on her armor, and they tore her open as she spun around. With a scream, she slashed across its chest. Without hesitation or resistance, the radiance of her daggers sank into its body. It howled and pulled back, allowing her to roll away and get to her feet. Only then did she allow herself to feel the moment of relief, realizing she had not trusted her patron to answer the call.

Still barely winded, but with the pulse of blood escaping her wounds, Elmira eyed the scene with new eyes. The queen was now surrounded by three of her kin, each one looming larger than the last, though one was already bloodied and faltering, and none so massive as the queen itself.

Elmira righted herself and squared her shoulders, spinning a dagger in her hand. “Fuck this.”

The queen let out a baleful shriek of pain and fury and dived for her, claws outstretched, drenched with blood and gore from her latest victim. Putting the daggers in one hand, Elmira pulled out her boomerang just in time to reflect the brunt of the claws and the impact of the sheer volume of the monster not slowing her descent.

Two of the other harpies saw their chance and dived, swinging their clubs. One caught her just below the shoulder blade, the other missed its mark and swung wide. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, her blood pumping hard. It had been a while since she’d had a fight like this. Against monsters. And she was having fun.

Elmira grinned and leaped into the air, throwing her boomerang at the queen who was beginning to swing back around while she let a dagger fly in a perfect arch toward the harpy that had caught her first. Its eyes widened in surprise as the burning dagger sank into its throat and ignited. With flames sprouting up around its neck, it started plummeting into the valley, bouncing lifelessly against the cliff. A moment later her weapons were back in her hands and she turned to the remaining monsters with a snarl.

The harpies sang in beautiful harmony, but this time it found no purchase on Elmira’s mind. Not even three of them together clouded her judgment, her calculations. One harpy fled as soon as it sensed the fight going the wrong way but the queen remained, as did one other. It was a dirty fight. Claws, clubs, daggers, weapons, fists trading attacks in a wild flurry of blows as the harpies tried their best to force her off the path and the cliff. The small harpy fell to her boomerang the second time it clipped it in the back of the head from behind when the queen ducked from it.

In a moment of distraction by a collection of lights in the underbrush, the queen managed to grab Elmira and lift her high into the air. Elmira struggled and twisted, but the claws dug into her painfully as her ears rang with howling, furious screeches. The ground disappeared fast from under her. She racked her brain for possible moves. The claws dug deeper, drawing more blood. She was getting weaker by the minute. Fuck.

She grit her teeth. “Enough!” she said and reached into the source of her magic to command the monster. “Drop!”

To her surprise, the command found purchase in the angry matriarch of the harpies, and the claws opened. Elmira cursed as she realized her mistake. She fell fifteen feet into the branches of a tree clinging to the side of the mountain with nothing more than roots and rocks. It swayed under her weight, digging into her side and thigh.

“Flee!” she commanded again as the matriarch shook out of its trance with an angry roar.

It was too much for the monster, who turned with a wail and fled. Wind from her massive wings tore through Elmira’s cloak and hair, rustling the tree precariously. She clung to it with everything she had until it stopped swaying, her grip wet and slippery from blood, both red and black.

Soon, the forest fell quiet once more, or as quiet as it could get with the night bringing its own chorus of creatures, rustling leaves, distant howls, and the soft chittering of nocturnal predators on the prowl. Elmira took a slow breath, allowing the sounds of the wild to settle around her. She looked around, her eyes scanning the dimly lit surroundings. The path was only about five feet above her, a low ridge she could easily scale with a well-placed jump.

She didn’t hesitate. Gathering what little strength and balance remained, she made the leap, landing lightly and continuing to pick her way along the path. Her steps were slower now, something must have sprained in the battle and she would have to heal herself sooner rather than later.

Twenty minutes passed in a blur, her thoughts scattered, too tired to focus. When her feet stumbled one too many times, she found a large boulder by the trail and sank down onto it with a grunt of relief. Her body felt like it was made of stone, and for a moment, she simply sat, staring at the darkening sky as her breath steadied.

But relief did not last. The adrenaline that had carried her through the fight was rapidly draining, and with it came the sharp, biting reminder of the wounds she’d ignored in the heat of battle. Her muscles burned, and the cuts across her neck, shoulders, arms, and side throbbed, each pulse of pain a cruel reminder of how close she had come to losing. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to crumble to the dizziness, even as her vision heaved.

With shaky hands, she reached into her phantom satchel. Her fingers brushed over a few smaller potions before they settled on one of the larger bottles. She pulled it out, the label gleaming faintly in the moonlight. Elixir of Fortitude. The kind that mended broken limbs or staunched serious wounds.

She stared at it for a moment, considering the idea of resting, of waiting for her body to heal on its own with this boost. But that was not the way today.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it back into the bag and pulled out a more potent healing draught instead.

Her heart quickened as she unscrewed the top and drank the entire vial in one desperate gulp. The liquid burned slightly as it slid down her throat, but it wasn’t unpleasant, just a reminder of the power contained in every drop.

Warmth flooded through her veins as soon as it settled into her stomach, starting from her core and spreading outward through every fiber of her limbs. The sensation was soothing, as though the potion were chasing the cold, dark fatigue from her bones.

Elmira exhaled slowly, closing her eyes as the magic worked its way through her injuries. The gash across her side itched as the skin mended itself, the slash on her arm tight and tender as the muscles repaired. The pain receded, leaving behind only the faintest ache, a reminder of how close the edge had been. It would do for now. But there was no time to linger.

Slowly getting on her feet, she tested her balance. The forest whispered around her, and this time it sounded like an urge.

In the corner of her eye, Elmira could see more globules hovering in the canopies and the underbrush nearby. Will-o-wisps. Fantastic. So far, they appeared to stay their distance. Woe to the creatures if they dared to come closer, she thought, before pointedly ignoring them.

“Push on, my champion,” the voice whispered ever so faint in her ear, so soft she wasn’t sure whether it was her own consciousness or her patron’s.

Elmira sighed, still sore from the fight whose effects were still washing over her. “I need more time.”

“The dark storm comes.”

The Dark Storm. It wasn’t the first time the name had been mentioned, but she knew better than to press for answers right now. She had been abandoned, if even for a moment. For a moment, she had not been Ayursha’s paladin. She’d been weak, open to the harpy queen’s charms.

Vulnerable in ways she had not experienced since her days as a cadet, getting tossed around on the mats of the Mora College of Warriors. It was a lesson as hard-learned as those back then, but one she would not easily forget. A mistake she would not make again. There was only one path.

With some hesitance, she got to her feet and pushed on down the winding path. This time careful to avoid drawing any unwanted attention from the local monsters and creatures. For the next hour and a half there was nothing, the wisps did not bother her, and the tension in her shoulders began to ease.

The hike was in some places more like a climb than a walk, and she had to step carefully to avoid the drop to her left. This was not a path for humanoids, that was for sure. At some point during the night, she heard someone inside her head.

A stranger’s voice whose words were weak and sounded far, far away, and muffled beyond comprehension. Elmira gasped.