An Angel’s Road to Hell

Cassandra Pendragon

I abandoned all attempts at secrecy, slammed a bunch of my wings through the enchantments on one of the windows and followed it up with a heavy book I threw right after. Without the support of the crumbled magic the tome smashed right through and with the clear sound of breaking crystal and a shower of sparkling shards I flung myself through the hole and into the night.

Within the tower I had been protected from the raging elements outside but now I had to withstand the full fury of a storm. Winds, smelling of decay and rotten cherries pummelled my body and drove me off course, blossoms and leafs obscured my vision and I could feel small twigs and stones graze my skin. The noise was terrific and I couldn’t hear a thing except for the eerie howling of the wind, laced with distorted voices. Without the protection of the tower I could feel them attacking my mind, whittling away at my sanity but I shrugged it off. Dangerous as it might be, I didn’t fear the magic, I was mostly occupied with not smashing head first into a wall. A small part of my mind worried how the other had fared, first bombarded with a life stealing curse and now surrounded by an unnatural storm that attacked their minds. I wanted to use the communication crystal but I feared I’d drop it as soon as I fumbled it out of my clothes and I didn’t expect my dad to have time for a little chat anyways. I’d find out sound enough either way.

I couldn’t fly, the storm was much too strong, all I managed was a controlled fall all the while the debris, flung through the air, battered my body. Once I touched down, it became a little better, the winds didn’t have as much power close to the ground. My injuries were superficial, some light cuts and bruises but nothing major. I gritted my teeth and sprinted towards Boseiju’s trunk. My plan was to reach the stairs on foot, collect Ahri, Greta and Mordred and somehow reach Boseiju’s roots as fast as possible. I knew perfectly well that it most likely wouldn’t play out like that, but I simply couldn’t come up with a better idea on the spot and I had to know if my friends and family were still alive and in control of their own minds.

Ahri’s blast had destroyed the soul runes on the inner walls and I ran through the burned garden and left the palace grounds without a problem. Once outside, the storm’s fury grew even more and a bone chilling cold settled over me. My breath turned into white vapour, the clouds blown away as soon as they left my mouth. Rime started to cover my fur and the tips of my hair, it clung to the buildings and made the road slippery, but still nothing blocked my path. I had to use my wings for stability to maintain my speed and even managed to a accelerate further, splitting the air before me and pushing against the ground. While I raced along the branch, I realised the ever present flickering glow of the last hours from the fires in the garden had finally vanished, either there was nothing left to burn of the storm had blown out the flames. I really hoped it was the latter.

As I neared the outer wall which separated the branch from Boseiju’s trunk I encountered the first group of turned kitsune. 12 of them, probably those that had been in charge of guarding the entrance lumbered about close to the gate. They didn’t seem coordinated, their movements were sluggish and without purpose but that changed as soon as I closed the distance to about 50 meters. Like puppets on a string, their heads shot up and they turned to face me. Hunger shone from their eyes in red and purple colours, strong enough that I could see it, even from the distance. Their weapons were left untouched but they charged never the less with a blood freezing, animalistic howl that cured me of all lingering ideas they might still be saved, of “them” there was nothing left. I faced soulless abominations, bound to life through a vile curse.

I had three options. I could try to push through, trusting in my agility, speed and wings to somehow get me past them. I could try to challenge the storm again to hold my course and fly straight over the wall and towards the trunk or I could jump off the branch. As insane as it might sound, I thought it’d be my best shot. Whatever the reason, the storm formed a whirlwind around Boseiju, blowing clockwise all around the tree. I had no chance of fighting against it, the short experience outside the tower had made that plenty clear, but maybe I could use it. If I managed to ride the air currents, they would take me directly to the stairs, all I had to do was drop down on one of the platforms around it once I was close enough. And not get blown into a branch or collide with something heavier then me on the way. Compared to fighting 12 adult kitsune or trying to overpower the whirlwind, I thought it was slightly less insane but I couldn’t say that I was thrilled.

Spouting colourful curses in the demonic language that rolled off my tongue far easier than any other attempt before I veered to the left, turned around and allowed the winds to catch my wings from the front. My back groaned and I was catapulted backwards and up. I shot like a stone from a sling through the air and out over the garden. It seemed like I had made a tiny mistake. Forget fighting it, I couldn’t even control my direction or hight, I was a leaf on a river, subjected to its whims without mercy. For as long as I kept my wings extend I would follow the airstreams wherever they were headed.

Blossoms, leafs and chunks of dirt tumbled all around me and restricted my vision. I closed my eyes after the first painful collisions made them water so much I couldn’t see a thing anyway. It helped, a little. My secondary vision was blurred as well, my wings were blown hither and to and I moved much too fast for my brain to generate clear images, but at least I wasn’t blinded anymore. The only silver lining was that the winds had carried me upwards and I was now at least 15 meters higher than the stairs. My altitude would allow for some leeway when I had to fall the last distance. Speaking of which, much faster than I had imagined, the platforms and extension built around the stairs came into view. At least I thought so, I couldn’t be sure because all I could see were fuzzy outlines and blurry silhouettes. I prayed to whomever would listen, angled my body as precisely as I could in the direction where I judged the largest platform to be and retracted my wings.

I lost nearly all of my air resistance in an instant but the force of the elements combined with my speed was enough to send me on a steep trajectory to where I had wanted to go. Unfortunately I lost my second vision the moment my wings vanished and I had to rely on my eyes again while I shot threw the air with a speed that was decidedly outside of a kitsune’s eye’s comfort zone. Damn it, I had no clue how I could possibly slow down. I hadn’t thought this through, if I unfurled my wings again I would be blown away in an instant, if I didn’t, I would most likely become a speck of blood and gore somewhere on the unforgiving wood. Well, it couldn’t be helped. I’d wait for the last possible moment and use my wings. Hopefully I would manage to somehow tumble onto a platform before the storm would take me away again. I didn’t even get a chance to try, though.

My eyes were still massively impaired but here is how I interpreted what I saw: a solid square of dwarfs occupied the space around the stairs but they were under heavy pressure. From the sides, through every gateway leading to the palaces, waves and waves of kitsune threw themselves against their bulwark. From below even more attacked the dwarfs and nibbled at their rear guard. Only a small part of the kitsune, those with glyphs on their bodies I imagined, used weapons, the rest fell upon the dwarfs with teeth and nail. They didn’t try to secure the stairs, they wanted to annihilate every thing that drew breath in their vicinity. Once they managed to drag a dwarf out of formation through sheer viciousness, clever spells or because the tremors that still ran along Boseiju had thrown him off balance, they would swarm the unlucky fellow and bite and tear at every exposed piece of skin they could reach, like ants attacking a carcass. The cries of the unfortunate victims reached me even through the howling winds. The dwarfs on the other hand defended themselves with a cold fervour, never breaking formation and always ready to fill in the gaps the enraged kitsune had torn open in their ranks. Their efforts weren’t in vain and I thought I saw more and more corpses with tails tumble down into the abyss. But for every fallen zombie a new one took its place and each dead dwarf thinned out their reserves more and more.

I could see Ahri in the middle of the fray, her wings a fiery beacon for her friends and impeding doom for her enemies. I had no idea how she could remain upright in the storm but the winds didn’t seem to bother her. Every time she moved a zombie burst into flames. Her whole body and the wood at her feet were black with ash, but she didn’t slow down, apparently ready to hold the position all by her lonesome if she had to. Luckily she didn’t, to her left my brother swung his sword faster than I could follow and the trails of blood that carved rivers of red into the mountains of ash all around proved his effectiveness. He didn’t bother to kill, he sliced a tendon there, opened an artery here and only moved when the incapacitated bodies started to get into his way.

On Ahri’s other side Greta proved that she had indeed been going easy on me. Her soul flame had manifested and had sealed her in a burning armour of gold. Wherever she would point, a stream of hungry flames would follow. They would cling to every soulless kitsune they touched and turn them into a walking torches, spreading the fire further along the ranks. Unfortunately the raging storm would soon consume the flames but the survivors thought twice before closing in on Greta again. A step behind them, my mother wove spell after spell, either defending the ones in front of her or attacking the enemies at range with blatant disregard for whom they might have once been. I couldn’t spot my father and had to quell a dart of panic when I realised he wasn’t with them. I couldn’t spare more time anyway, I was close to a platform and I had to act.

With a thought my wings pierced the air and I turned into a flying light show that drew the attention of nearly everyone below me. As if on command, the cursed kitsune that weren’t actively fighting someone snarled and threw spells and wads of energy my way. I had to smile, their attacks might give me a chance to actually make it. With my wings I could interact with energy in any way I desired, I could touch it, pierce it, burn it, choke it and push against it. Maybe I could anchor myself in their spells, break my momentum and land on the platform without a single broken bone.

At first I felt elated, I slammed one of my wings into each spell I could reach and managed to slow down considerably while the wads of energy sped off into the night. A second later my elation died away while I had to focus on a game of whack-a-mole. Many more than 33 attacks had been flung my way and I had to retract my wings from the ones I had already steered off course to deflect the next one. Once again I was thankful for the countless hours I had spent in Greta’s cavern, dodging things and judging their speed and direction. I was fast enough to brave the wave of spells and get through unscathed, well, almost. A couple of shots took me right in the stomach and while the spells didn’t activate, it still felt like I had been hit with a stone, thrown at full force. My muscles seized for a moment and I was really glad my stomach was already empty. I had to pay dearly for my lapse of concentration, though, as another badge of projectiles hit my side and nearly propelled me around.

But then I was through and I had slowed down sufficiently to fully see what was before me and to take control of my fall without tearing my back apart. I anchored half of my wings to the edges of the platform. For a moment the full fury of the storm tried to wrestle away my hold and fling me off again but I clung on and managed to steer myself away from the horde of bloodthirsty zombies and towards the battalion of dwarfs.

I could now see that the dwarfs had cleared the area around the stairs. Decayed wood and burned patches showed where the enchanted seals had been broken. The platforms along the paths to the different palaces where flooded with enslaved kitsune, their glowing, hungry eyes blurred together into a sea of red and purple specks in the darkness and made me feel like a rabbit in front of a wolf pack. Shivers ran down my spine but honestly, I was long past the point where I had still given a damn.

The kitsune tried to push their way through the five gateways and onto the main platform but the dwarfs held tight while my friends defended one of the gates all by their lonesome. From below some 30 kitsune still fought to climb up the stairs but they were stuck between a rock and a hard place because another formation of dwarfs, at least 30 strong, came up right behind them. They were slowly ground to dust between the dwarfs at the top of the stairs and the ones pushing them into their brethren’s waiting axes. This close I could feel the beat of the black drum reverberating in my bones, each clap accompanied by a volley of bolts that culled the kitsune mercilessly.

My wings tethered me to one of the platforms the kitsune were gathered on but I used my remaining momentum to swing around and head directly for the middle of the dwarven battalion. My wings were to short to bridge the gap between the platforms so I let go at the highest point, retracted my wings and tumbled downwards into a thicket of mithril weapons and armour with a lot of pointy ends sticking up. Luckily the dwarfs weren’t easily fazed and reacted quickly. They scattered and left a clear place for me to crash onto which I proceeded to do most stunningly.

I came down faster than I had thought so I didn’t have the time to use my wings again. I tucked my arms and legs close to my body and tried to roll off the momentum but the scant 2 meters they had cleared weren’t enough by far to come to a halt. Like a living canon ball I covered the remaining distance in a heartbeat and slammed into a silvery mountain. It might also have been the back of a dwarf but the effect was pretty much the same. I stopped abruptly and all my kinetic energy went into deforming bones and ligaments. Unfortunately it weren’t those of the dwarf.

I didn’t lose consciousness, but the ringing in my ears and the burning sensation from pretty much all over my body made me wish I had.

It took me several moments to spit out the blood from when I had bitten my tongue during my crash landing and to persuade my sense to convey anything other than gibberish. I opened my eyes to stare into my mum’s, her defeated expression and the deep lines of grieve all over her face prevented me from asking any questions. I silently got up and hugged her tightly. I tried to convey much, my love for her, my hope that we’d see another sunrise despite everything, my pride that she was still up and fighting but above all my anger and my promise that I wouldn’t back down, no matter what the emperor still held in store for us.