Sunkissed Feathers & Severed Ties

by Kellie Doherty

  The Moon cage cast a gentle light on the leaves, twigs, and roots underfoot. Misti deftly leapt over them, shoving branches out of her way, not bothered by how some scratched her palms as she went. The stinging pain kept her going, kept her running even when her legs grew tired. Soon, she’d be out of this forest and into a rolling grassland, which would make traveling easier.

  The nerves humming through her body tensed her muscles and sharpened her eyes, but she didn’t feel as scared as she thought she would. Her earlier fears of the forest and the darkness within had drifted away. Even though she was alone, the night had welcomed her with open arms. She cast her eyes upward, seeing past the branches, past the treetops. She couldn’t be scared right now, not with the nearly full moon and twinkling stars overhead. The night kept most dangers at bay.

  Looking up turned out to be a bad idea when running full tilt. Misti’s foot snagged on a root and she hurtled to the ground, her packs crashing along with her. She yelped, stomach lurching into her throat. Sharp pain jolted up her hands and arms as she caught herself and went into a roll, slamming her back into a tree with a jarring stop.

  Idiot. She heaved a sigh, letting herself relax against the tree and just breathe for a moment. The coolness of the night air tickled her cheeks and nose, tingled in her hands. The crispness filled her lungs and reminded her of home. Of snow and childhood snowball fights and hot spiced tea, back before everything went terribly wrong. Shaking her head, she assessed herself. Aside from the aching in her arms and her pride, she felt okay. Weary, but uninjured. For the first time since she left the village, she was happy that she was alone. No one else had been around to see her fall. She pulled her long hair into a tight bun at the base of her neck like Dylori always did.

  Something cracked to her left and she whipped around, pushing herself to a seated position and reaching toward one of her daggers. It was too early for suncreatures, but that didn’t mean predators weren’t out stalking prey. The cracking continued. Whatever it was, it didn’t mind being heard. Misti tightened her grip, adrenaline coursing through her. What could it be? A pyrewolf? A spydralia? Misti’s breath caught when a small creature hopped out of the darkness, and then released when she recognized it. A firebird, and a baby one at that.

  For a moment, Misti worried that the orb would hurt the bird somehow, break past the Moon cage and steal this tiny creature’s life energy. But the bird peered up at her with beady eyes, puffing out its crest in greeting and giving a little squeak. It hopped in a circle, flaring its wings and tail, showcasing the vibrant gradations of red, orange, and yellow feathers Misti admired despite the washed-out blue glow of the orb. Facing her again, the firebird bobbed its head. Saying hello.

  It’s okay if this little guy saw me, I guess. Misti laughed and put out her fingers. She knew that even at such a young age, if the firebird felt threatened it would burst into flame and take a defensive posture, wings ruffled and head held high. Maybe even spit up a flaming pellet for good measure, though Misti wasn’t sure if this young one had learned that skill from its father just yet.

  To her surprise, the firebird hopped closer to a root near Misti’s knee, swayed a little, and bobbed its head. It clutched the root with its long claws, but seemed to lose its balance and tilted dangerously forward.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Misti caught the bird, fingers wrapping gently around its body and pushing it upright once more. The firebird squeaked again, and Misti sank into her Animal crafting to commune with it. The firebird was young. So young that he couldn’t yet speak to Misti like Dis had done, like her Zora could. So young that he had gotten lost in flight and couldn’t remember where his parents were. So young that he was frightened, alone in the woods. She sent the baby bird warmth and the first tendrils of friendship, promising that she’d help find his nest. She had to. She was a Vagari, and just like the Nemora tended to the natural resources of the world, the Vagari helped the beasts, even the bugs and the water-dwellers. It was part of their very being. She pulled away, severing their connection but keeping a gentle hand on the firebird’s quivering body.

  Misti didn’t remove herself from her Animal crafting. She looked into the forest through its orange glow, trying to find the flight of firebirds this little one had gotten away from. Tiny creatures scurried this way and that. A few birds fluttered above the trees, but not the right ones. It occurred to her that the strixis hadn’t found her yet, the ones she had sent to track the banished folk. What happened to them?

  Shifting her worry aside, she focused again, but to her dismay, she didn’t see or sense the firebird’s parents. Her heart cracked a little at this loss. She could try to call to them like she had the strixi, but firebirds were notoriously hard to summon and even harder to tame.

  Misti looked at the tiny bird now nestled up against her chest with its head tucked between its feathers, she knew she had to try. She pulled a small seed bag from her belt and opened it, giving the firebird something to nibble on. The baby chirped in thanks and pecked at the black seeds. Taking a deep breath, she focused only on firebirds: on their flaming feathers, their golden eyes, their proud demeanor. Her heart fluttered against her chest, going fast from her run but now pumping quickly out of fear. No, not fear, exactly. Anticipation, more like, at calling to these birds, ones she had never summoned before and ones who were twice the size she usually tried for.

  A moment passed. Another. A third. Misti strained, concentrating so hard she forgot the world around her, forgot about the battle, forgot about the Moon Knights, forgot about the pendant around her neck.

  The rustle of wings made her glance up from the baby bird. Misti stiffened at the sight of five firebirds flying over to where she sat, snapping their black beaks. Their feathers flared to bright red life, and they glared down at her with large golden eyes. If she had been standing, the birds’ eyes would have been level with her own.

  “Hello,” Misti said, amazed that it had actually worked. And on so many! “I believe this little one is yours?”

  She stroked the baby firebird on her lap. The bird hesitantly lifted its head and then squawked in joy, hopping over to the largest adult. The larger firebird dipped its head, touched its beak to the little ones, and then stared at Misti once more with a cocked golden eye; the other one had a scar across it, sealing it shut.

  Not knowing what to do next, Misti stayed still. Her head pounded from using so much crafting and she let it slip away, the orange glow fading from view. “Be safe,” she whispered.

  One of the firebirds titled its head at the seed bag the little one had eaten out of, plucked it off the ground, and flew away with the bag securely in its black beak. She chuckled as the seed thief flew away. Enjoy the food.

  The three others ruffled their feathers, quenched their flames, and flew after the thief. The last adult firebird started to follow, but its chick chirped and pecked at its claws until it turned back again. Hopping over, the larger bird feathered its wing out at Misti, but it kept its head held high, its one good eye flashing. The flames died down so her fingers could make contact with the hard bone and feathers there.

  Understanding dawned on her and she shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t need anything right now. Thank you, though.”

  That was a lie. She was worn out but the firebird looked so noble that Misti felt awkward taking from it. It would be like taking life-energy from a queen. Yet the larger bird remained still, its wing outstretched, clearly waiting for Misti to take hold of it. The baby bird hopped over and pushed against Misti’s hand, squawking. Misti bit her lip. She was aching from her fall and weary from the orb. The firebird glared at her, its crest rising in a dignified flame from its head.

  Finally Misti broke under the pressure of the bird’s haughty stare and reached out to touch the wing at the joint. Holding on, she dipped into her crafting once more, the cool sensation returning, flickering then settling.

  Fire surged through her, banishing her aches and giving her a boost of energy in the proce
ss. Through her crafting, Misti could tell this bird was a relative of the baby, his father in fact. It felt amazing, this father’s joy at finding his little one, being reunited once again with his family, seeing his young safe and sound. But before she could say anything, the firebird broke the connection, and launched himself into flight. As soon as the bird crested the treetops, his wings burst into a blaze once more, bright yellow and orange flames licking his feathers. Misti watched in awe. The firebird headed in the same direction as the others.

  “Thank you,” Misti whispered. The baby bird squawked, pushed up against her hand again, and hopped after his father, disappearing into the darkness.

  Smiling, Misti hauled herself to her feet, secured her packs to her back, and started off again. No longer aching or weary, she knew the extra energy the firebird had given her would take her into the grasslands and beyond. She didn’t have much time before the sun rose completely, but her heart felt lighter since her dismissal from the Moon Knights. A sense of comfort seemed to settle around her shoulders in the knowledge that she could still be a protector, even if she only protected baby birds.

  The grasslands looked peaceful as dawn spread deep pinks, oranges, yellows, and finally bright blues over the rolling hills of knee-high bright green grass as far as Misti could see. It looked to be a cloudless morning, with only a slight breeze. Warm, too. Even though Misti was on guard, she enjoyed the vibrancy of the lands washed in sunlight. As much as the Elu who crafted them tried, daygems couldn’t quite capture the vibrancy of the actual sun.

  Standing on a hilltop, she looked down at the grasslands she still had to travel across. They stretched much farther than she would’ve liked, with safety more than a night and a half away. Fueled by the firebird encounter, she had made up her mind that she would keep going during the day.

  Misti rolled her shoulders and rubbed the back of her neck before stretching her arms to the sky. Nibbling on some of the ilra nuts Arias had packed, she reflected that she hadn’t really slept since before they attacked the banished ones. She’d only been able to go this long because of the firebird’s gift, but natural fatigue would soon take hold. She’d have to nap somewhere, and Misti shivered at the thought. The rising sun meant the suncreatures would be waking. Large white shapes had begun appearing on the horizon, and alarmingly, some even closer than that.

  Misti spotted at least three suncreatures moving in the grass below her, only a hundred paces away. It would be next to impossible to figure out what kind of creatures they were until they revealed themselves. Her hand drifted to the hilt of her dagger, tracing the moon pattern etched into the metal.

  Worry dripped down her body, carving smooth paths in what little optimism she had left from the firebird encounter. She might be able to take out a few smaller suncreatures herself, but if a wyvern or a neades suncreature showed up, Misti would have to run, or hope there might be some beasts around that she could use her crafting to persuade to help her.

  Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Misti slowly lowered her packs to the ground and buckled her armor into place, moved down the hill, and crouched low. Her hand went automatically to her daggers on her belt, preferring those to her longer curved blade, but she thought better of it, pulling her sword. The knights taught me the sword. Use it.

  The grasses grew higher here, rising to her waist when standing and concealing her when she crouched. They tickled her outspread hands and face as she moved through them, filled her vision with bright green strands, and invaded her senses with sweet and soil tones. Almost pleasant, save her for rapidly beating heart, her tight, painful breaths, and the sweat dripping down her brow.

  She moved the next curtain of grass aside and met with a pair of red eyes—suncreature’s eyes. A low rumbling came from the suncreature in front of her, and a second and third rumble answered from the other two—surrounding her. Misti’s breath caught, her gasp stuck in her throat like a bubble waiting to be released. How did I miss them?

  The suncreature moved closer. The grasses parted around it to reveal its full form. Misti immediately recognized it as the sun-twisted version of a pyrewolf. Instead of a pyrewolf’s bright orange fur and white teeth, this one had short white fur that rippled oddly as it moved, hinting at the glowing red skin beneath. Instead of its head only reaching her hip, the suncreature’s head reached Misti’s chest. Instead of a pyrewolf’s joyful bark, the suncreature growled again, peeling its lips back to reveal shiny orange teeth dripping with saliva.

  In the span of a few heartbeats, Misti ran down a list of what she knew of the original beast—muscular and quick, pyrewolves ran in packs. They were kind to travelers, often guiding the lost back to their homes. Their bellies were vulnerable. Soft fur grew there, an interesting contrast to the thicker fur that armored them everywhere else. But she had never encountered the suncreature version before, and before she could analyze the creature further, it lunged for her throat.

  Misti shrieked and dropped to the ground. The suncreature misjudged its attack and soared over her. A belt of thick crimson scab-like armor covered its belly, no doubt protecting it from attack. Misti rose, grasping her curved sword tight in both hands and turning to face the suncreature. It spun, long tail swishing through the grasses and sharp nails digging deep into the dirt. Opening its jaws wide, the suncreature took in a deep breath. A stream of fire burst from its maw, aimed at Misti’s head. She had just enough sense to swerve to the left. The fire sizzled past her, and the acrid smell of burning hair caught her nose. Ponuriah’s tits! A lock of her hair had caught, blackening at the ends, but she swatted it out.

  Fire breath? The suncreature chomped off the fire, coughing. Yelling past her shock, she raised her sword and rushed at the creature. The pyrewolf dodged the blade, darting into the grasses. Misti spun in a slow circle. There are more. Her mind raced as fast as her heart. She knew suncreatures retained the abilities of the creatures they imitated and she had expected speed, but pyrewolves were only named for their orange coloration—they couldn’t actually spit fire. Stop thinking. Start attacking.

  The pyrewolf’s breath had burned the grasses away in a straight, blackened line. An escape? But before Misti could flee, another suncreature burst onto the scorched grass, snarling. Its ears lay flat on its head, and its tail swished back and forth, leaving a trail of glowing crimson in its wake. Its piercing red eyes glared at her, as if daring her to come its way.

  A flash of white to her right caught her peripheral. She brought up her sword, but not soon enough to defend herself from the sweep of dark claws. Pain tore through her forearm, and Misti screamed, but adrenaline pumped through her system, dulling the agony. She swung her sword at the suncreature, forcing it to back away from her blade. Pack mentality. They attack in packs! True to form, the one in front of her, tail swishing this way and that, lunged at her. She sidestepped the attack and sliced the side of the suncreature. A thin line of yellow-orange blood, bright as the sun, burned the fur, but not deep enough.

  Heart pounding, Misti spun to the one who cut her arm. Gripping her sword tight, she lunged, stabbing at the creature with her blade. Just like Met’zil Zarious had taught her. Just like the other Moon Knights did. The suncreature skirted the attack and snapped at her arm as she passed. Yelping, she managed to turn just quick enough for the bite to miss, but she felt the air around her skin shudder with passing heat. She held her sword in a defensive stance, covering her chest.

  I have to be stronger than them. The thought burned in her mind, seared there by the many times Met’zil Zarious had yelled those words at her. The nights Stee and the others had trained with her, shouting the same. But how can I? Three against one was a tall order, even for a former Moon Knight.

  The first suncreature dashed at her, but Misti rolled to the side. The suncreature’s jaws snapped by her hand and missed before the suncreature disappeared into the grasses once more. Before she could retaliate, the third suncreature appeared at her side, swiping at her with its orange nails and leaving
slashes in her tunic and her skin. Not deep, but painful all the same. Misti skittered away, yelling. Adrenaline, and her seasons as a Moon Knight, tunneled her vision to focus on her attackers, not on the pain. Think of Zora. If she were here, what would she do? Go for the eyes. Be quick! She stabbed at the third suncreature with her sword and put out an eye. Blood gushed from the wound, and the pyrewolf howled. Grabbing one of her daggers, she threw it at the suncreature running at her. Her blade hit the pyrewolf in the shoulder, not a killing blow, but it staggered the creature all the same.

  Distracted by two suncreatures, Misti missed the third and it knocked her forward onto her stomach, landing on her back. She heaved to the side, tipping the suncreature off her, but the beast leapt back on top of her, snapping at her face. Her sword pinned under one of the pyrewolf’s giant paws, panic thrummed through her. Use something else to attack. Anything else. Stab it! Misti grabbed her dagger, but the suncreature bit her wrist. Pain throbbed as the creature’s teeth sank into her flesh. Yelping, she yanked her hand to the side, jerking the suncreature with it. Misti saw her opening: the suncreature was off-balance. She tugged her sword out from under its paw and stabbed into its chest. Her blade plunged all the way to the hilt, a burst of bright yellow-orange blood burned over her hand, and the suncreature burst into fiery red ashes that floated over Misti’s body.

  A thrill of victory sparked through her, burning some panic away. She’d managed to kill one on her own. Grinning with newfound confidence, she got to her feet and turned to face the other two suncreatures. But five suncreatures faced her now, red eyes glaring, hackles raised, long tails swishing as deep growls rumbled through their throats. Five? One of them opened its mouth and Misti ducked, thinking that it was going to spew fire, but it lifted its nose and howled, calling for more. The sound pierced through Misti like a knife.