Great Hunt: Ravenflight

For some reason, Anjali hadn’t expected another monster. Aleister’s corruption felt like it had been less than a week ago, and while she knew that wasn’t completely accurate, it still felt far too soon. What in Fortune’s name was happening? 

It had been foolish, though, to think that that anomaly could’ve been caused by anything else, and have effects that reached this far from ground zero. She’d easily been more than a kilometer out when she’d been hit by that awful wave of sadness.

Perhaps it was less that she hadn’t expected it, and more that Anjali had really been hoping her suspicions had been wrong. She wasn’t often wrong, but she would’ve been okay with it this time. 

The closer she drew to the edge of the jungle, the darker the sky became around her. The ground before her was suddenly covered in long, snaking shadows, and a low whispering filled her ears. The words were indistinguishable – it was entirely possible they weren’t even speaking a language she understood – but the voices sounded sad, like they were mourning the loss of something or someone beloved. It was their fault that there was this unbearable ache in her chest. It was their influence, and screw them for making her want to sob.

The beast rose from the shadows at the edge of the jungle, an amalgamation of decay and eldritch horror, with the skeletal head of a raven and a mantle of thick tendrils dotted with poison green eyes. 

Seeing the creature, Anjali felt that heaviness wash over her once more, that emotional agony that made her want to drop to the cold earth and curl up into a ball until nature reclaimed her. That tightness returned to her throat, and no amount of clearing it chased the sensation away. She forced herself to look elsewhere, and found her gaze drawn to the village at the edge of the trees. She realized with a sinking feeling in her stomach that the monster’s attention was also fixed in that direction. Shit. 

She yanked back on the reins and changed her horse’s direction, steering him toward the village now instead of in the monster’s direction. There were people already gathered by the water; a combination of both villagers and mages from what she could tell, but she couldn’t discern if the latter were from the Order or not. She was inclined to believe not¸ considering their complete lack of haste in dealing with the last monster to step foot on Ivras’s land. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, but it served to boost her own ego, at least. Just one of many reasons she was glad her name wasn’t associated with them any more.

The beast let loose another long, mournful shriek, and Anjali felt it reverberate deep in her bones. Her horse reared, giving a shrill cry of his own, and had Anjali not braced herself for that to happen, she surely would’ve been thrown. Merely being in the monster’s vicinity seemed to have her mount on edge.

There was a sharp hissing sound, and something pelted the ground a few feet away from them. She pulled back hard on the reins to stop her mount, but his hooves continued to skid in the slick, muddy earth. A volley of luminescent green projectiles hurtled in their direction, landing a few meters shy of them and exploding into sparks upon impact. 

Well, standing still would make her a pretty easy target. She urged her horse forward once more, and there was another shrill whistling as another series of glowing green stones was hurled toward her. One of them struck her in the shoulder and shattered like the rest. The impact was enough to throw her from her mount, and all the air was expelled from her lungs as she crashed into the ground. She lay there for a moment, gasping for breath and tilting her head back to see where her horse had finally stopped – if he had finally stopped. 

He had, thankfully, several meters away, where he shuffled his hooves uncomfortably, warily eyeing the distant monster. 

Once she felt like she’d caught her breath enough to move, Anjali pulled herself from the mud, rising to her knees with a low groan and looking down at her upper arm, where the projectile had collided and exploded. 

There were tiny green shards imbedded in her skin, like fragments of glass. They sizzled and sent an agonizing burning sensation up her bicep, and she hissed through her teeth, suddenly feeling nauseous. However, as she went to pluck one of the shards from her skin, the sizzling sound grew louder, and Anjali watched as each of the little green pieces disintegrated to dust and disappeared into thin air. There were no open wounds left behind, though as she prodded the area where the fragments were, stinging pain shot through her nerves. She hissed again.

Apparently, the beast was satisfied that it had disabled her, even if it was only temporary. It directed its attention once more to the village, and the screams of the people gathered there mingled with its thundering shrieks as it advanced. “Shit.”

By now, her horse had made his way back to her side. She curled her fingers around his reins and pulled herself up the rest of the way, her back and the shoulder she’d landed on screaming in protest. That was going to hurt tomorrow morning. As she pulled herself into the saddle, Anjali thought she heard the steed give a sympathetic chuff. She frowned at the thought; she didn’t need sympathy from a horse. She yanked on the reins. “We’ve gotta get to the village,” she said. There wasn’t much she could do against the beast alone, but perhaps she could help elsewhere.

---

Anjali was relieved to find quite a few other mages already gathered at the river, some consoling the panicked non-mage villagers, others gathered in small clusters, likely planning their initial moves. 

A few of the faces were familiar: other mages she’d met in passing. Some names she knew, some she didn’t. One in particular was a tall, dark-skinned man with a serpentine tattoo curling up the side of his neck and skull. An old comrade from the Order, and one that she knew held the same distaste toward them as she did. Halbrook’s familiarity was comforting, and as she slowed her horse and neared the crowd, she found herself gravitating toward him. 

The Stonedrake lifted his gaze as she approached. He offered a curt nod in greeting and a brief twitch of his lips that might have been a smile. Anjali looked to him, and then to the handful of mages around them, hoping that perhaps his wouldn’t be the only comfortingly familiar face. Ultimately, she was disappointed, and her gaze returned to Halbrook’s golden eyes. He said nothing to her, clearly waiting for her to speak first.

“The village?” she asked him, guiding her horse to a stop. 

“Evacuated,” he said. 

“Completely?” she lifted her eyebrows in surprise. 

Halbrook looked off in the direction of the village, his lips curling in a slight frown. “There’s a few mages checking for stragglers, but—”

A shrill cry cut him off, and this time, it wasn’t from the monster. Anjali’s horse flicked his ears, and as he lifted his head, she followed his gaze to a woman nearby, being held back by a taller mage. “Please!” she shrieked. “My son, he’s still back there!”

“Miss, you can’t—” The woman wrenched herself free of the mage’s arms and broke into a sprint, straight in the direction of the village. Anjali was on the move immediately, and she used her horse to block the woman’s path, nearly sending her face-first into the mount’s flank. 

“Where’s your son?” she asked. She glanced back at Halbrook, who had followed her, and looked ready to grab the woman if she tried to run again. 

“We were separated during the evacuation. I think he ran off to hide and—”

Another wail, this one from the monster again. The color drained from the woman’s face, and she fell to her knees and began to sob. The other mage came up beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, looking slightly awkward. 

Anjali looked to Halbrook and nodded. “I’ll go look for him,” she said, and then turned back to the sobbing woman. “Your son, what’s his name?”

The woman mumbled something between sobs. Anjali wasn’t close enough to make it out, but the other mage leaned in to listen, and then straightened and met her gaze. “Micah,” they said, and Anjali saw the woman’s head dip in what she assumed was a nod of confirmation.

She readied her reins, and her horse stomped an eager hoof; he was ready to go. “Stay here,” she said to the woman, and then addressed Halbrook. “Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere. Please.” They didn’t need any non-mage casualties when the public opinion of mages was already so low. 

Halbrook nodded, his expression as blank as ever. Anjali smiled; the woman was in great hands. The Stonedrake was a good man. 

Without another word, she was off, but hadn’t made it farther than a few meters when someone called out her name behind her. She slowed her horse and looked over her shoulder to see Halbrook racing to catch up to her before she made it too far. She tilted her head to one side. Her horse shuffled anxiously beneath her. 

“You should know,” Halbrook began, his face still completely neutral, save for a strange, impish spark that danced in his eyes. “They believe it’s vulnerable to fire. And, by extension, light.”

A crooked grin parted her lips, and she straightened in her saddle. “That’s excellent news.” 

She tore off in the direction of the village once more.