Young Flame

The pact nations had undergone more extensive change than Grímr expected. It might have been his cynical mindset regarding the well-known corruption in the upper brass of the Mercenary Order and the ruling class that was supposed to keep them in check, but he was delighted to find the restructure progressing rapidly post-war.

Though, that might simply stem from their fear of coup d’état.

Despite winning the war, the nations did not suddenly bounce back from the strain on economy. The people held displeasure with their leaders for a long time, and the news that the lost lives of everyone’s brothers and sisters could have been avoided had the elite been sent out with any haste was the final nail. Riots and aggressive civil disputes arose all across the pact nations.

Historically, against the Henosis Empire, the approach they’d taken was correct. But this wasn’t the Henosis, and they’d been too slow to alter their military doctrine.

Most leading factions got a hold of their troubles with platitudes and quick action, but not all could avoid forced reform. Those that fell and rose again with new hands to steer were a warning to the rest; they needed to act in the favour of their disgruntled citizens, lest they face the same fate as their neighbours.

Grímr wasn’t usually one to care much for the in-depth politics of the nations around him, but it was impossible to miss the shift. Regardless of the reason, it was a good change, and he could only hope that this would last.

He looked to his side, where Bunny sat, wiping her halberd. Her entire focus on cleaning it from the blood of the last critter that crawled out of the hole below.

The Vanguard, the nation Bunny’s father once commanded, was likely the only nation amongst the pact that didn’t face almost any internal disputes. As the only remaining kraterocracy — unless you counted the mess that was the Warring Isles — they, surprisingly, were in a better position than any of their neighbours. It also helped that their leaders were out on the front fighting the entire time.

Bunny’s homeland was still technically at war with the Theocracy, but it was back to simple border clashes and ideological disputes, like it had been for the past fifty years.

A large moth, about half Bunny’s size, flew out from the depths of the pit. The portian controlling the body of an alicanto turned a hopeful eye to Jav. The little volan, slouched along the ground with his artificial wings stretched wide beneath each arm, raised an eyebrow at Grímr’s gaze.

“It’s your turn. I’m staying right here.”

Grímr sighed, unwilling to argue, and rose to his talons. It was always such an effort to take off. He could fly for hours without effort, but the constant up and down was rather draining. Still, he didn’t waste time. Stretching his massive metal wings, he took off without so much as a beat.

In the past — what had it been? — a year and a half, he’d become far more comfortable in this body. The wings moved with a fluidity that would make any that saw assume he’d had them his whole life. Only in that short time at night did he still struggle to make them do as he wanted, but he’d been making some progress moving around the annoyance. It wasn’t anything like controlling a normal creature; the nerves had to be bypassed rather than used themselves. He was just thankful he was no longer unable to move for a full thirty minutes every day… that might have caused problems one day.

Grímr was not lucky enough to get the drop on the moth. His size difficult even for mindless creatures to miss. As he flew forward, the flying bug fluttered its wings, bathing the air in dust. This was no decay dust like the mermineae were once capable of. No, this was simple dirt, but it still blocked his sight and left his feathers filthy.

He felt the dirt rapidly building up along his metal body, collecting in lumps along his wings, up his back, and around his talons. The moth was clearly trying to weigh him down, but he hardly noticed the added mass, what with how heavy he already was.

Grímr cut through the cloud of dirt and sliced a wing through the moth. It died immediately. The creature had attempted to move out of the way once obscured, but it hadn’t done so quickly enough to save itself. He snatched the corpse out of the air and carried it back to the tall hill on the ledge of the abyssal pit.

He tried his best not to look down in that black hole beneath him. With flight, Grímr hardly had to worry about the drop, but the instincts of his actual body sometimes still got through to him. Especially with a hole so obviously unnatural.

Grímr knew Solvei had been to the bottom and came back fine, but the fear of the unknown still twinged at his mind whenever he gazed down.

He dropped the moth on a pile of other creatures they’d killed over the last couple days. They were really starting to stink up the air. He hoped the mage circling between groups would be here soon. If they didn’t, he was tempted to toss the lot back down the hole. Enhancement from these creatures was getting increasingly less attractive than removing the smell.

Grímr returned to the other two of his team. It was really feeling empty at the moment, and he was eager for the other two to return. Remus was stuck reorganising much of the Mercenary Order, and Solvei had to convince her elders to let her travel again. Really, it was a toss up between who would return first. Until then, they were stuck on guard duty around Kalma’s Pit, along with a bunch of other mercs.

The hole, located in the far east of the Meja Matriarchy, was smack-dab in the middle of the pact nations. A rather unfortunate place for beasts to flow out from, but it wasn’t the worst cost for the victory of war. Dozens of teams encircled the immense hole in the earth, with structures popping up all around it. Given a couple years, Grímr was sure the place would become a city in its own right, but until then, it was just the mercenaries and hopeful merchants trying to snatch some creature parts from their kills before they could be sacrificed in the ritual.

After scraping off the dirt still clinging to his feathers, Grímr laid beside his two teammates. He eyed the currently unused spare flight suit Jav had hung up to dry. The volan was usually too fast to get hit, but sometimes it was simply impossible. At least the moths’ dirt attack wasn’t all that dangerous.

“You should get one of those made for Bunny.” Grímr said, not entirely serious.

Jav lifted his head, looking the weapon-obsessed woman up and down. “That would be great, wouldn’t it? She’s the only one that somehow enjoys killing these pests. We could dump all our work on her.” He shakes his little lightly furred head before continuing. “Unfortunately, she weighs far too much for any wings my sisters can make to have much effect.”

“I can hear you.” Bunny peers up from her weapon to send a glare at Jav.

“Don’t you eat as much as you do because you want to put on more weight?”

She stares at him for a moment, before nodding once and turning back to her weapon.

The three fell back into silence for the next while. Guard duty, when not up in the Alps, was rather boring, but Grímr usually enjoyed it. That was, when the whole team was around. Now? He could only wait for the missing half to return. Not even the stronger creatures that came from the abyss — either crawling or flying — could give them much enjoyment, what with the other Beiths rushing to kill them first.

Team Luis Eight was no longer Luis. They’d been promoted to Beith Thirteen, but considering the team was missing its full roster, they weren’t given tasks appropriate for their rank. Instead, they got to knock down bugs. Bunny was the only one who enjoyed killing the things, yet she was the one most annoyed at not being able to chase stronger beasts.

“This is boring. Either of you up for a game of Bleed?” Jav asked, pulling out a deck of cards.

“No.” Bunny didn’t hesitate. Nor did she look up from her weapon.

Grímr considered it. The loss of coin would hurt, but he enjoyed the games, regardless. The volan was brutal even in friendly games.

Before Grímr could accept, a loud crack like the shattering of glass ripped through him. It lasted no longer than an instant, yet it felt like he was crushed. The weight of the world bearing down on him. Looking between his two teammates, it was obvious they felt the same thing.

He didn’t know what it was. The sound seemed to come from all around him, and from nowhere at the same time. Something broke, and each of his ten legs shivered with instinctual dread. The slight twitching of his limbs in their place latched to the alicanto’s brain stem was enough to send his body convulsing, but he quickly got a hold of himself.

Before anyone could say anything, Jav was in the air, searching for whatever caused that noise.

It was too loud, had too much presence, to be anything natural. Grímr doubted his small flying friend would find anything; the shatter felt as if it were propagated by the earth itself.

When Jav rejoined them, Grímr’s guess was proven true.

“There’s no sight of whatever caused that, but we aren’t the only ones to have heard it. Even those across the hole are spooked.” Jav points to the other side of Kalma’s Pit, where Grímr’s eyesight wasn’t good enough to distinguish the teams as anything more than specks.

“I suppose we can’t rule this out as someone dropping a glass bottle, then?” Bunny asks.

Jav huffs a laugh. “Not unless it was the size of a tower.” His gaze turns down to the pit. “You think-”

A sudden, intense gust of air slammed into them, accompanied by a powerful shriek. Grímr clamped his wings to his side to not be blown away. Jav was not so lucky, but quickly dove back into the ground. The wind crossed Kalma’s Pit faster than it should, kicking up dirt as it ripped over the raised lip.

The shriek continued, somewhat similar to a bird’s call, but more of a droning wail that made the air harden as it slammed into him. Grímr’s mind immediately leapt to the Euroclydon, and whipped his head toward the Titan Alps. It didn’t help his fears that the blast had come from the Alps.

But that had to be impossible. The Titan of the western plains was beyond the Titan Alps. None of its winds had ever reached this side.

He didn’t want to believe it, but it was too familiar to deny. The winds were not as strong as those in his memories, but the way they raced along the earth faster than any other gust had the right to be couldn’t be ignored. The Euroclydon never shrieked like this in his time across the Alps, but there was no doubt it was from some unimaginably powerful beast. With pressure strong enough to pierce deep into his instincts, he was certain.

The shriek never cut off, instead it was overcome by the rumble of earth. The ground trembled. If Grímr hadn’t already been holding himself low after the gust, he was sure he’d have been knocked off his talons, even with wings clutching the dirt to hold him steady.

Grímr couldn’t stand if he wanted to. His body felt like it had become liquid, flowing with the earth below. Bunny herself was crouched with her hands on the ground; a surprising sight, considering how much effort she put into her own balance. The wooden buildings constructed only a few months ago were already nothing but rubble near the bottom of the hill.

A massive section of the ledge broke off, sliding into the pit. A few hundred metres of ground just gone in moments. Maybe he would have worried about the teams that might still be on it, if not for the Titan Alps themselves crumbling. It was unbelievable. For all his years, those mountains had been a constant. The only thing in his life that never seemed to change. And now? They were crumbling.

The quake was deafening, but he hardly registered it. His eyes could do nothing but watch mountains tumbling down the Alps as if they were mere pebbles. He wasn’t the only one; all around Kalma’s Pit… no, all around the continent, people watched on in dread as the Titan Alps — a spiritually, culturally and symbolically crucial monument beyond the Titans themselves — shattered.

At first, it appeared only the surface level was falling apart — the mountains growing out of the giant alps — but that soon proved false. As they watched, a heavier quake ripped through the earth, sending any still on their feet tumbling. The Titan Alps sunk, crashing down beneath the earth. A tenth of its size gone before anyone could truly comprehend the scale.

The summit line dropped, and Grímr watched as more of the space beneath the moon was revealed. That ever so slight white line cutting the sky between moon and Alps returned. He’d seen it back over in the Euroclydon’s Hunting Grounds, but never here.

“This isn’t real, right?” Jav asked, but Grímr couldn’t find the words to reply.

The trembling earth never stopped, not even as his body slowly locked up. It was strange; like the body’s nerves ever so slightly fought his control.

Then, the moon shone red.

The alicanto body he inhibited shifted faster than ever. Blade-like tail curled into a flail, feathers grew jagged, and razor teeth buzzed through his formerly toothless beak. The red light of the Blood Moon reflected off his body, glowing like he was the source itself. His eyes were the most affected, shining like crimson torches over his teammates.

His body snapped forward before he could stop it. Bunny leapt to the side, tripping over her own feet as she landed on the unstable earth. Grímr finally clamped down on the body that had somehow gotten out of his control, the metal bird shearing through rock and gravel as his menacing feathers drilled into anything they touched.

The Blood Moon appeared during day.

And his body had become just as uncontrollable as a year ago.

Hours passed. Days passed.

Yet the Blood Moon remained.