64) Blood and Wind
Qingxi leapt from where she stood, spiralling through the air to land facing the cloud of dust that erupted into being where she once stood. Quickly, she plunged her hunting knife into the back of her forearm, letting her blood mingle with Pallas’ before returning it to its sheathe.
She then stood in place, fists curled and raised to her cheekbones in an imitation of Pallas’ stance. But though the air was hot, stifled by the heat of a hundred burning embers in the depths of the forest that surrounded her, it was by no means still. A gentle breeze blew through the narrow dirt path, drawing in cool air and brushing it against her arms and legs– the warmers and stockings she wore provided little in the way of insulation as compared to her thicker shorts and woollen juban kosode.
Qingxi watched as the dust cloud faded away in the gentle breeze, joining the columns of smoke rising from their blazing wagon and revealing a cassowary. Qingxi’s jaw dropped slightly, her eyes still fervently fixed upon the large bird, its entirely black mantle of feathers shimmering to reveal a furious orange glow hidden within.
She stared it dead in its eyes. She only peeled her eyes off of it to take note of the two smaller black masses emerging from the smokescreen to either of its sides– a crane, the edges of its wings’ ebony feathers peeling back to reveal two blazing blades, and a chicken, its fiery comb and smouldering tail plumage rivalling even the wagonfire in intensity.
Birds. She was fighting birds.
She almost thought it was poetic.
There came a cry again, the hoarse, grating caw emerging from the sky above them and emanating throughout the forest below.
It was a crow.
The cassowary lunged forward, sprinting ahead and fading into a blur of smoke and soot as it raced towards her. A cone of spiralling flame formed at the very head of the barreling cloud, and the flaming drill that was the cassowary’s beak tore through air as Qingxi leapt to the right to avoid the attack.
The cassowary spun on its heels, driving its talons into the soft dirt as it turned to face Qingxi. Its form was then enshrouded by an arc of airborne dirt, Qingxi throwing herself to the right and out of the way to avoid the attack.
She leapt to the right a final time, letting the cassowary drive its drill of a beak into the earth as she returned to where she originally stood.
She sent the cassowary flying backwards, driving her fist into its feathered chest and calling upon a gust of wind to throw the entire eighty kilogramme mass of bird a good few metres back.
She rushed forward, aiming to exploit the opening, before catching a thin sliver of glimmering orange in the right corner of her eye.
She threw herself to the left, rolling across the dirt as she saw the crane bolt towards her for a second attack. The thing formed its burning blades into a cross-shape, the heat of its feathers striking against the metal of Qingxi’s hunting knife as she drew it from her hip.
She broke the bird’s guard, forcing it backwards with the aid of her winds as she spun the knife in her hands in preparation for a second attack.
Only then did she see that it had gone entirely blunt. Not in that it no longer had a cutting edge, but rather that it had no edge at all.
It had been severed. A glowing line of molten metal upon its cut being the only indication that it had once been a knife.
The crane surged back towards her, its two wings held parallel and one above the other as it made a wild swing for her legs and her chest.
She leapt up into the air, twirling in place over the thing before kicking down towards it, sending a cannonball of compressed air careening into its head and crumpling its fragile body into the earth.
A ball of screaming fire suddenly slammed into her side, throwing her from the air and dunking her back onto the ground along with itself.
Qingxi rolled across the ground, scrambling to all fours as she saw the blazing junglefowl get back to its feet before her. Feeling as her abdomen roared with the pain of a thousand fresh cuts, she watched as the chicken leapt back towards her.
She threw her head back, twisting upon the floor and seizing it out of the air. She then contorted her body, bolting back to her feet as she drew her hand back before pummelling the pitiful creature all the way back to the wagon.
She felt her entire body slam back down onto the earth, the heavy claws of the cassowary digging into the back of her ribs as it bore down upon her. She fought to spin onto her back, the cassowary relocking its grip upon her body as it bathed its beak in a shower of fire.
The thing brought its head down upon her, Qingxi just managing to block its attack by hitting it in the neck. But it attacked again, and again, and again, each subsequent stab at her neck gradually getting closer to piercing flesh.
She felt as its fires burnt away her left hand, each peck shattering another bone in her palm and piercing another hole in her hand.
But it was alright. That was only speeding up her acquisition of control over the bandages.
She saw the shimmering arcs of the crane reappear within her periphery.
She grabbed the head of the cassowary as it made yet another attack, gripping her fingers tightly about the base of its beak and pressing them into its eyes.
Blood began to spill from the bandages, crawling across the cassowary’s face as the crimson tendrils ensnared it and its neck in a vice grip.
Qingxi yanked on the thing’s neck, pulling it in between her and the crane rushing towards her– forcibly stopping it dead in its path.
Then, Qingxi yanked again on its neck, easing the pressure on her lower body just enough to plant one of her boots against its chest. She sent the thing flying off of her yet again, throwing it into the crane as she rolled back onto her feet.
She put her right hand on the hilt of her Xiafan Blade.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She let go, her fingers freezing in place about it as she stared down the grovelling mass of cassowary and crane feathers before her, watching as it slowly rose back to its feet.
Wait, wasn’t there a-
Qingxi spun on the spot, the blazing ball of feathers that was the junglefowl slamming directly onto her face. She felt as its talons cut through the thick layer of bandages she always wore, and as she stumbled about to regain balance she clamped her fingers down on its smouldering tail.
She tore the thing off of herself, throwing it onto the ground as she felt the bandages come off her face.
Instinctively, she threw her left hand up to cover it, her eyes just barely managing to peek the orange glow of a rolling flame through her fingers.
She swiped her left hand outwards, blowing the stream of fire aside and casting up a huge smokescreen.
Not willing to give it any moment of reprieve, she bolted through the smoke and the soot, driving her shin into its round form as she sent it barrelling back into the forest.
Then, there came a cry.
The crow had spoken.
A sudden wave of heat surged from beyond the trees, forcing tears to her eyes in the brief moments between her getting hit and being able to get her wind barrier up in response.
Then, the birds that lay in wait took the air. They chirped and whistled, spiralling about her. First one, then two. Then before she knew it one hundred whole streaks of blazing fire soared in an inferno about her, the fires that hungered to singe her hairs and burn her skin kept from doing so only by the grace of her wind barrier.
Soon, though, the inferno disappeared from view, the smoke that it kicked up instead filling her vision.
It was now or never.
She put her hand on her blade’s hilt, her fingers freezing in place once more.
She had to-
The cassowary’s talons slammed into her once again, and she was sent flying backwards. She tumbled against the earth, her bearings entirely lost as she felt the cassowary throw her up into the air with a second kick as it chased her down.
There, she twirled in place, landing on her hands as she threw herself backwards and out of the way of an earth-shaking stomp.
Now back on her feet again, she slipped to the side as the cassowary made a blind lunge to impale her. There, with its body entirely exposed and unguarded, she balled her left hand into a fist– squeezing the blood bandages to get every last ounce of power out of them.
She drove her fist deep into the cassowary’s chest, pushing through feathers and striking against bone as a thin mist of blood erupted from the point of impact.
Then, she shuffled backwards, watching as the cassowary rolled along the dirt path with the momentum of her attack.
She put her right hand back onto the hilt of her blade.
There was no way she would be able to win with only her fists. She needed to harness the bite of the blade and the roar of its winds if she wanted even a realistic chance at victory.
So why then, was she so afraid of unsheathing it?
She bit her lip. Her heart pounding in her chest, tears welling in her eyes, she grit her teeth and tightened her grasp– only to feel as a warm touch graced her fingers.
She looked down, seeing as the bandages that she had wrapped about her left arm began snaking their way over to her right. It coiled in between her fingers and her palm and wrapped themselves about the hilt of the blade.
It was holding her hand.
“Just like this, Qingxi,” the deep, warm voice told her. “Just hold it with your hand, and hold it firm.”
“But I’m scared, Papa,” the young girl said.
“Don’t be,” he responded. “Fear never wins you anything.”
Pallas was holding her hand.
There came a caw once more, and Qingxi snapped back to reality to see as the crane soared towards her, a trail of spiralling embers roaring behind it.
And she unsheathed her blade.
The ground beneath their horses’ hooves shook, and a mild shockwave of pressure surged on past the three escapees.
“What the hell was that?” Soleiman asked, shooting a glance over his shoulder and looking beyond his unconscious sister to see if Qingxi was okay.
“Should… should we really be running?” Rumi asked.
She ducked, a small streak of amber swooping over and past her in a failed half-hearted attempt to attack her.
“I… I mean…” Soleiman struggled with the thought. “She told us to trust her, right?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to risk losing her!” Rumi responded. “I’m not leaving that to even the slightest bit of chance.”
“But she has the sword on her,” Soleiman said. “If she’s using it then chances are the Serpent King’s going to end up seeing us.”
“I…” Rumi struggled. “But so long as the four of us are together, we’ll be alright, won’t we?”
Soleiman opened his mouth as if to respond, though no words came to mind. He hung his head, setting his eyes dead on the path before them.
“What can we even do to help her, Rumi?” he asked. “If you really want to turn back, then I’m with you. But what can the two of us do?”
“We can try our best.”
The two of them turned around.
“Pallas!”
She rubbed the back of her head against her eyes, pushing her mess of a fringe back into place.
“So you want to-”
Soleiman ducked, dodging the swooping sparrow’s attack. Except, this time, instead of simply soaring on ahead, it stopped dead in its tracks. The thing flapped about frantically in front of Pallas, before eventually turning tail and bolting back into the woods.
“What was that?” Pallas asked.
Rumi and Soleiman exchanged glances.
“...Guys?”
“Wait…” Soleiman said. “Are… are they scared of you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Back then, when we were still in the wagon,” he said. “When you were still with me inside, most of the birds focused on attacking Rumi and Qingxi. But when we and Qingxi swapped places, they started attacking the wagon instead.”
“Huh,” Rumi mused. “You’re right. Maybe they’re scared of the Soteira?”
“...Perhaps?” Soleiman responded. “Hold on, you ride on ahead. We can test this out.”
Soleiman held Strapi back a bit, letting Rumi and her steed get a few metres ahead of them. And, as if on cue, she was immediately attacked by a sudden swarm of birds. All of them small, but each of them ferocious nevertheless.
“Okay Rumi, come back, let's stop for a while!”
“So…” she asked, reining her horse in as they faced each other. “What now?”
“I have an idea,” Pallas said. “I’ll go alone, and you two keep going till you leave the forest.”
“Pallas, are you serious?” Soleiman asked.
“Yes.”
“You literally just passed out making a few bandages!”
“Yes, I know,” Pallas responded. “But I’m better now. I’ll go back on my own, get Qingxi, and then get back out. Okay?”
“What do we do then?” Rumi asked.
“Escape,” she responded. “Look, okay. It’s the two of us. It’s not going to be anything we can’t handle.”
A breeze blew past them, carrying the distant scent of smoke all the way to where they stood.
“And if it is something we can’t handle,” she said. “At least you two will get to live on.”
Qingxi swung her blade about, the glowing amber eyes of the serpent leaving trails of heat through the air as the blazing metal of her sword clashed against the talons of a flaming falcon. They crossed blade and claw once, then twice, then three times in total, Qingxi spinning on her heels each time, her eyes darting about and all four of her ears peeled to anticipate the next direction of attack.
Then, there came a knocking, the sound of a hornbill’s beak snapping in sadistic excitement.
Qingxi weaved the fourth attack, using the momentum of her dodge to leap up into the air. Planting her feet against a tree, she saw as the path beneath her burned bright with the heat of a wave of fire.
She leapt from her position, soaring through the air and lifting the blade high above her head before slicing it in the direction of the hornbill.
The air before her roared to life, and in the moment following the earth upon which the hornbill stood was reduced to a pile of ash and soot, kicked up by the remaining eddies of the windblade that yet swirled in the air.
She felt as her muscles seized up slightly.
The environment’s mana was running low. And while that meant that she and her sword were on a timer, so too did that mean the birds were limited in what they could do.
At least, theoretically.
She landed back onto the earth, spinning about and forcing the falcon directly backwards with a slash of her blade. She immediately lifted it above her head yet again, smashing its hilt downwards to call upon a column of wind– trifling with the falcon’s flight and forcing it to the ground. Then, she drove her blade into its form, skewering and ending it for good.
That was the fifth bird. How many more the crow was going to throw at her, she did not know.
What was most likely, though, was that killing it would bring an end to the assault. Or, at the very least, make things much easier for her.
An army without its head would be as good as dead.
Moreover, it seemed the amber eyes of the serpent generated from the windblade she’d just unleashed mere moments ago were already beginning to fade.
She heard a caw.
Turning around, she saw the crow above head, hovering in place.
Then, she saw a light behind it. A light that was very quickly growing bigger.
She leapt backwards, the ground before her exploding as a bolt of fire slammed into it.
But the firebolt kept going, ricocheting off the earth and driving itself directly into her– exploding upon impact.
Qingxi was sent flying backwards, her sword knocked clean out of her hands as she struggled to get back to her feat.
Fanning the dust from her eyes, she heard the sound of rapid, rhythmic thudding in the distance– though it was much slower and heavier than the thudding of the cassowary.
The crow cawed once more, and before she knew it the infernal cyclone had beset itself upon her again. Blinded and besieged by fire on all sides, she kept her ears peeled.
She drew her right arm back, clenching her fist as she prepared herself for the oncoming attack.
An ostrich burst through the flames.
Qingxi was thrown from her position, her punch doing little in the way of stopping the momentum of the one hundred and forty kilogramme mass of flesh and feathers and fuming fire.
The entire cyclone erupted upon impact, the birds dispersing as Qingxi rolled against the earth.
The ostrich, continuing on with its momentum like a freight train, chased Qingxi down, grabbing her with its beak and lifting her into the air– before slamming her directly against a tree trunk.
She stopped then and there, every muscle and bone in her body screaming out in pain as the ostrich slid to a stop a good few metres ahead of her.
Even still, she threw herself off of the tree, feeling the earth shake as the ostrich pulverised the ground where she once lay.
She needed her sword.
The ostrich bolted towards her, careening on by as Qingxi blew herself away with a gust of wind. It doubled back, this time bearing down directly upon her.
She met its advance with a punch, gathering up as much mana as she could to blast the thing back with her winds.
The ostrich stumbled backwards. Qingxi, on the other hand, was sent sliding against the earth, just barely able to maintain her balance as she felt the numbness of paralysis spread throughout her entire right arm.
The environment’s stores of mana were running dangerously low.
The ostrich rushed forwards once more.
Before stopping, its head bowed in pain as a streak of red spilled from its chest.
“Qingxi!”
She turned around, eyes widening as she saw Pallas running towards her.
“Pallas!”
Her eyes darted downwards, catching sight of the eyeless blade lying on the earth not too far away from her.
At once, she darted towards it, snatching it off the floor and turning around just in time to see as the ostrich closed the distance between the two of them.
Then came the third windblade.
The ostrich fell, cleaved into two, and the serpent’s eyes came and went within seconds.
For a moment, Qingxi stood frozen in place, the sudden extreme deficiency in mana in the area taking even a seasoned fighter like her off guard.
The crow cawed.
“Come on, Qingxi!”
Pallas grabbed Qingxi from behind, holding her hands in hers as she led her along.
Behind her, the swarm of birds gave chase, though neither their flames nor their ferocity reflected what they were earlier on in the battle. It was evident enough that the lack of mana was taking a toll on them too.
“Wait, but-”
“It’s okay!” Pallas insisted, ushering her along even as she tried to stop and face the oncoming storm. “They’re scared of me.”
Qingxi looked Pallas in the eyes for a moment, eventually deciding against questioning her.
And so they ran, the birds watching them from the trees as they did so.
Time and time again did the crow above let loose its hideous shriek, though with the six main birds dead and with Pallas now in place it seemed as though its lessers were much less willing to keep up the fight.
At best, half-hearted attempts at scratching either of the two girls were made. But never anything serious.
Not that that didn’t change how infuriating it was.
“Should I try to shoot it?” Pallas asked.
Qingxi nodded.
She spun on her heels, Qingxi stopping alongside her to muster up a barrier of wind with whatever mana she had remaining within her lobes.
Lifting a finger to the sky, she aimed it dead at the crow.
At once, the thing exploded into a fine mist of feathers.
The crow fell from the sky, and the glimmering embers that lit up the forest dark disappeared in their entirety.
“Oh, shit,” Qingxi said. “Good shot.”
Pallas’ finger was still pointed to the sky.
“That… wasn’t me.”
They turned around to see as Soleiman and Rumi raced towards them, a group of Sahlbaridis following closely behind them.
And, if Pallas squinted, she could just barely make out the Saracenic letters embroidered onto the keffiyeh of one of the men.
Son of the Yusheed.