“Right…” Sonja felt a sense of fear. It was not an emotion she felt too often, but it was definitely present right now.
“Remember, constant communication.” Alexander waved his hands back and forth between them. “And everything will be just fine.”
“Constant communication.” Sonja nodded, and a bead of sweat appeared on her forehead.
“When we’re flying, Raithia will mostly follow Reizexus’ lead.” He looked to the alpha with admiration. “But, just so you know: push on the bar to let her know you want to go faster, pull back if you want to go slower. Yank the bar hard to either side, whilst pulling with your body weight, if you want her to turn.”
“Push faster, pull slower,” Sonja repeated, still unsure if this was all a good idea. “Body weight yank to turn.”
“That’s it!” Alexander pulled up some goggles from around his neck, then fixed them in place over his eyes. Once they sat snug, he threw a pair to Sonja. “Let’s strap in and ride out!”
***
“Alright,” Alexander called out from the pouch attached to Reizexus. “Are you ready?”
Raithia stood tall—beside her mate—with Sonja securely attached to her chest. The volcanic updraught was fiercely hot. Every breath of that air stung like razors sliding down Sonja’s dry throat. She didn’t want to be there, this was a bad idea. “No,” she mumbled, wishing she had an ale to gulp, not a wyvern to ride.
“Go?” Alexander’s eyes went wide. He looked up, and Reizexus curled his head down to look back at him. “You hear that, she’s more pumped than us!”
“I said no!” Sonja’s spoke with a stern voice.
“Again?” Alexander began to nod enthusiastically. “Alright then. GO, GO, GO!”
Both wyverns were consumed with the excitement, leaping into the volcano and catching the rising heat. The updraught shot them up and out and into the sky.
“Fuck! I bloody well said NO!” Sonja yelled. Alexander didn’t hear.
The alpha rushed to be first into the clouds. Sonja wasn’t sure if she was making hers go faster or slower, but her knuckles were white as she clung to the frame for dear life. It didn’t take long for the air temperature to drop far below what she was expecting. Even with the warm wyvern close to her, the chilling high altitude air of the frozen sun numbed Sonja’s bones.
After shooting above a thick layer of cloud, the alpha turned back towards its mate.
“Woohoo!” Alexander exuded excitement. “Nothing beats being up here!”
“Yeah, sure,” Sonja mumbled back.
“You’re going to need to talk a little louder,” he yelled back to her. “Sound doesn’t travel so well up here.”
“I SAID,” she yelled back as loud as she could, “SURE!” Sonja noticed that Alexander was communicating with his wyvern. Then, without warning, they dropped below the cloud.
Raithia was chasing Reizexus down like they were playing a game. Bursting out from the cloud, they skimmed along the edge of the volcano. Sonja’s ears popped as the ground rushed towards her. Before slamming into the snow, the two wyverns broke away from each other, gliding across the frosted plain. Raithia pumped her wings, forcing them higher into the sky, then meeting back together with her mate. Sonja was trying hard to have a good time, but she began to feel as though the stupid sack wasn’t all that safe. She swore she felt something tear.
“I think I’ve got a problem,” she called out, but was too far away for Alexander to hear.
Eventually, the wyverns flew closer together. “Looks like you’re enjoying yourself,” Alexander called. He grinned, pushing his mustache upwards. “Ready to do some loops?”
“Oh fuck… NO!” Sonja’s voice roared up through her sore throat. It hurt, but yelling seemed to be the only way to maintain communication. Communication that was, apparently, so important. “I think this bloody sack is falling apart!”
“That’s just nerves.” His smile showed that he enjoyed torturing frightened beginner pilots. Or maybe he was just having fun messing with her? There was no way he’d make her feel uncomfortable with her feet planted on solid ground. “Come on, admit it: you’re loving it!”
“NO!” Sonja yelled once more, but he ignored her and shouted more commands to Reizexus.
“Go?” Alexander called out. “You heard the lady, Reizexus, don’t keep her waiting!”
“Grrrr…” Sonja growled, holding on tight. She hoped the feeling of the sack tearing was just her nerves.
The wyvern flew upwards once more, throwing its chest towards the cloud. Sonja released one hand from the handle, reaching out to touch the big fluffy formation in the sky. Gravity resumed control, forcing her hand back to the frame. In an instant, her knuckles were coloured like the snow. It dove down for a moment, then with a single beat of its immense wings, levelled back out.
Sonja felt another tug, a tear. This time it was much more predominant: it was more than her nerves. She saw Reizexus going into another loop. “STOP! THE SACK IS TEAR—” every syllable felt like sandpaper wiping across her throat, until suddenly, she couldn’t speak any longer. Not that it mattered, Alexander didn’t seem interested in listening to her.
Raithia followed her mate into the loop. It played out the same as before, but Sonja didn’t dare take her hands off the frame. Falling back down, she prepared herself for the powerful beat of the wyvern’s wings. She held on with all the strength she had, but it wasn’t enough. Sonja was strong, but her weight, under the powerful upward lift merging in chaos with the pull of gravity, was too much. The sack split in two, spilling fluffy, white bits of insulation, along with Sonja, into the sky.
She attempted to reach for that little ball on her pack: the one to summon the cloth wing that would magically take her to safety. Unfortunately, wildly spinning and flipping made finding the bloody thing impossible. She could barely differentiate between the snow on the ground and the clouds in the sky, or where the hell Alexander and the stupid wyverns were. Streaks of red flashed across her white vision, that would be the wyverns. Still, she couldn’t tell if they were above, below, or beside her.
She began to chuckle in her tumble. That large wyvern wanted her dead the moment it had laid eyes on her. The bastard was going to succeed, and without even a single breath of flame or lash of a talon. Well played, wyvern, well played. She was still trying to reach for the ball on her pack, but couldn’t feel it for the life of her. Literally, her life depended on finding that little sphere of leather.
Her coarse laughter continued as she spun and flipped, faster and faster. After all the near death situations she had been in, this is how it was all going to end: over a minor communication issue. She didn’t feel too bright agreeing to pilot one of these things to start with, but the irony of the whole situation made sure she would laugh her way into a deep, snowy grave.
She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Suddenly, the wild flailing of her body abruptly stopped. She opened her eyes and exhaled, watching her heated breath melt a patch of powdery snow beneath her face. To her amazement, she had stopped barely centimetres away from the ground.
The distance between her and the snow increased with the familiar beating of wings. She then felt the talons that were digging into her sides. “Raithia?” Sonja’s choked-up and dry throat barely asked.
A deafening roar—forcing Sonja’s hands over her ears—was Raithia’s confirmation. Why couldn’t the wyvern be the one with the sore throat? They continued back into the sky, but not as fast as before. It was almost like the wyvern was concerned for her fallen passenger.
“Shit, Sonja,” Alexander swore as Reizexus flew closer. “I didn’t think that you genuinely had a problem!”
“My voice…” Sonja’s mouth opened, but the words she managed were incredibly quiet.
“What?” Alexander couldn’t hear her. “Speak up Sonja!”
Her hands were tightly wrapped around herself, gripping her shoulders. Realising they weren’t actually improving her stability, she r
eleased one hand and grabbed her throat, then stuck her tongue out.
“You want me to choke you?” Alexander sounded curious and intrigued at the same time.
Sonja shook her head, then made a fist, palm-side facing up. She slowly unclenched her middle finger, offering a salute and a warrior’s smirk. Teeth bared, her eyes pierced into his. It was now Alexander’s turn to feel uncomfortable.
He nervously laughed. “Let’s just get you back into the cavern and we can forget this ever happened!”
Reizexus shot up along the volcano, then dove down inside. Raithia was doing the same, just a lot slower, being much more careful with her movements. Sonja appreciated it, especially once they began descending into the volcano. She didn’t particularly enjoy falling so close to the snow, but didn’t believe the bubbling, volcanic magma would forgive such proximity.
All of a sudden, Sonja’s opinion of wyverns—flame wyverns at least—began to shift. She had encountered an alpha that sensed what she was, and it backed down for the greater good. Raithia, however, diving down to save her, that really touched her. She was a wyvern, but she had a sense of duty. Sonja wondered if they still suffered from an insatiable blood lust like their wild counterparts. To be honest, she was happy not to find out.
Gliding into the cavern, Raithia beat her wings, swinging her body around, and dropped Sonja as lightly as she could. It still wasn’t quite a soft landing: she dropped a couple of metres, then rolled across the ashen ground as the momentum subsided. Not to worry, Sonja had been thrown around much worse before.
“A-are you alright?” Tequidi rushed over to Sonja, trying her best to help her up.
Sonja stood tall, towering over the little girl. “Alexander!” She attempted to yell. What she managed to summon was quiet, yet cold and rough. “Where is he?”
Tequidi was trembling, she didn’t say a word. Hesitantly, she lifted her arm, and pointed to his location.
“I need to have a word with you!” Sonja’s voice was still quiet, but anyone could sense her intent. She stormed off in the gestured direction. “Ace!” She dragged out the single syllable for several seconds, sounding like a raspy snake.
He was hiding by the piloting school’s supplies, right near Sonja’s claymore. She reached for her weapon’s sheathe and strapped it back around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” Alexander whimpered, “that’s never happened, I don’t know wha—”
“Listen, Ace,” Sonja interrupted. Her voice was barely present, but it was enough to get his attention. She spoke decisively, her eyes stared straight into his. “I am a slayer, and I kill things. I kill wyverns. When the Altkrugan flame wyverns over-populate, I’m the one that needs to clean up the mess.”
“I’m sorry.” The man’s eyes went watery, he was on the verge of tears.
“Don’t be sorry.” Sonja’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve shown me how beautiful these creatures can be.”
“They are…” He’s mouth flickered into a grin. “I’m glad I—”
“I don’t want to have to slay any more of them,” she croaked into a deep sigh. “I really don’t. If you truly are sorry for the incident that occurred, don’t let any more flame wyverns go astray.”
“I’m not in charge of breeding and colonies.” Every speck of Alexander’s charm had disappeared since the flight had finished. “But I’ll try my best to make sure the population doesn’t grow out of control.”
“You will keep it under control!” Sonja began to make her way out of the cavern. “Or I’ll come find you, Ace.”
“Yes, Sonja.” He was desperately nodding as she walked away, she couldn’t see it, but she knew his type—scared little men—all too well. “Thank you for flying with us!”
Sonja stretched her arms out, then released a croaky, roar-like yawn. “I think I could really go a spa and a massage now!”
THULMLET RESURRECTION
It was awkward, walking through the thick snow in this stupid set of armour. The cold emanating off the frozen sun didn’t offer any comfort either. Sonja, Rigst, and Volk been walking around the western ranges for quite a while now, crunching through snow and ice patches with steel spiked boots. Sonja didn’t really have a problem with it, though, this time of year was relatively slow and uneventful.
“We’re getting close to that cave of yellows,” Rigst called out. He was pointing towards a track that curved around the base of a nearby mountain.
The purcrassus-hide apron he wore made him look ridiculous, and the fact he was leading them felt even more so. “You look like a true-born leader right now Rider,” Sonja replied.
“And you look absolutely stunning, Captain,” he called back to his superior without diverting his attention. Rigst was a scout and knew this part of the land—even when blanketed in thick snow—better than any of the others. It made sense that he led the group.
“Purcrassus armour isn’t the prettiest,” Volk said from beside her. He wore the thick, grey armour as well. Purcrassus were awkward creatures, with their long beaks protruding from eyeless heads, and stubby disproportionate limbs. Their hide, however, was dense, leathery, and allowed insulated protection from electrical outbursts. Unlike the two others, Volk wasn’t wearing gloves. Instead, he was rolling his hands around a ball of flame that he had conjured. “Luckily we aren’t heading for a beauty contest!”
“You and your fire. Is it actually keeping you warm?” Sonja clenched her fists inside the thick gloves. She’d seen Volk play with his fire many times before—and ignite his blades’ edges—but she couldn’t understand his obsession with it. Maybe Sonja could relate if she had a blessing of her own? Probably not; if it couldn’t help her slay wyverns or horrors, she would quickly forget about it.
“Eh, I like it,” Volk said with a smirk. “As they say: flaunt it if you’ve got it!” And he had it.
The group of slayers continued along the path. It was on a rough angle, and the snow made it slippery. Rigst compacted the white powder before each step, then slammed his spiked boots into the ground. The others followed his lead.
After traversing around a small portion of the mountain, they found the point where a dark hole led to its innards. It was wide enough for several men to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and high enough for a man on horseback to ride through.
“Alright, we’re more than well equipped for them,” Sonja said with authority. “But that’s no reason to drop your guard. We don’t know what we’ll encounter down there. Red, stay back, let Rider and I do most of the work. If things do happen to get out of hand, keep the cave lit up. The Bristrunstium would rather these things alive, but if anyone has to die, it’s them, not us. Got it?”
“Yes Captain,” they both responded in unison.
“We only need to bag three,” Sonja said, stretching her neck to the side. Three was the number her brother, Kallum, said was required. “But I’d much rather grab a few more, provided it is safe to do so.” The Bristrunstium—an institute of scholars that study beasts and technology—always appreciated more play things.
“Should be easy enough.” Rigst nodded. “They’d be deep in hibernation by now.”
“Should be,” Sonja repeated. “Alright, circuit check, and then we go in.”
Sonja bent over to inspect Rigst’s feet, Rigst checked Volk’s, and Volk inspected Sonja’s. A line check was just as important as wearing this stupid armour against their prey. Yellows—or shock wyverns as they were officially designated—could release a powerful electrical blast. Enough to kill an ill-equipped man, or a stupid one.
They followed the wires that were wrapped underneath their boots, up along grey leg coverings, over their apron, and connecting with a collection of metal spikes. Then along the arms, they wore chunky, grey gloves, with spiked knuckles and a few other metal conductors. Volk was without hand protection. Being blessed by Aesterus, the fire god, his job was to offer illumination. Lastly, they checked their head protection. Caps with flaps on both sides covered their necks, allowing the wir
es to connect with a pair of metal tusks, and a single spike that reached from the top of the cap towards the sky.
“Circuit check complete,” the three of them said, almost in unison.
“Let’s do this,” Sonja commanded, and the three of them entered the cave.
They skulked into the darkness, illuminated by nothing more than Volk’s fire. After a few silent steps, everything felt darker. They waited for their eyes to adjust. Stumbling over a rut or rock, and possibly into a section of wall where a shock wyvern rested, would not be productive for their venture. With irises expanded they allowed the depths of the cave to swallow them.
Rigst put his fist in the air above his head, indicating he had spotted one of the creatures. Without saying a word he nodded towards it, then pulled a sack off his back.
Sonja noticed another right next to the first. It was of average size, with wings about twice the size of her hands. She prepared her own sack for a capture. Like their armour, the sacks were also made from purcrassus hide.
Quietly, they crept up to the tiny wyverns. The slender creatures had both sets of claws—protruding from hind legs and winged arms—dug deep into the cave walls. They were barely moving, breathing slow and deep.
They placed the bags carefully beneath each one. In unison, Rigst and Sonja struck them at the base of their wings. They fell from the wall and into the bags, the shock making them release bolts of iridescent energy. The arcs of light found their way into the metal spikes on the slayers’ gloves, channelling along the circuits, then earthing through their boots.
They tightened the sacks with haste, making sure they were sealed before the creatures had a chance to fully awaken. In tandem, they threw the sacks at Volk, who caught them, then chucked them further towards the cave’s entrance.
The trio waited for the bright blasts in their vision to fade. It was important to readjust to the darkness. The captured wyverns made a bit of noise, but not enough to be worth worrying about. The purcrassus hide muffled most of the sound, and they were too far away to disturb the hibernating creatures further within.
Holtur Stories Page 2