A Song of Storms: Shattered Skies

by Sigur024

The Long Road

Mountains. Finally, mountains loomed over Theod, rising from mere bumps on the horizon to scrape the heavens as they drew closer. Now they crossed one of the great spurs of these mountains, cloud-wreathed and snowy despite the heat of the lowlands that stretched out endlessly to the west.

Crossing the mountain in this way would not have been Theod’s first choice. The cold alone could kill the weary and hungry Auxillia, not to mention the treacherous slopes and chance of beasts prowling the flanks.

They had been forced to come here because it was difficult. The Legion had found their trail not long after their escape. Clearly it had not taken them long to realise that the griffons weren't in the barn anymore. Or Garland talked.

They were dogged in their pursuit, and more than once the Auxillia had been forced to flee in the middle of the night or scatter in all directions. They had lost three more to the blades or arrows of the legionaries, and two to simple exhaustion.

The freezing winds and dense clouds that wrapped the heights of the mountain gave some protection to the fleeing griffons. Theod hoped that once they crossed into the next valley the Cirrans would lose track of them, and perhaps they could rest a while.

Tapfer trudged through the snow on Theod’s right, returning to the line of bedraggled griffons as his time as lookout ended. He nodded to Theod as he fell in, and Theod replied in kind. He peeled off from the line and walked up the slope a way, lifting his head against the stinging icy wind.

He could not see far within the cloud bank. Climbing out of the drift-buried gully was more out of habit than actual advantage. He could only just make out Gretus at the fore of the line, ploughing through the snow with his typical single-mindedness.

Theod squinted back the way they had come. Dark shapes were moving in the mist back along their path. His mouth went dry. Not for the first time Theod wished that he still had his oath-sword. Or even his legionary gladius. Steeling himself, Theod pushed back through the snow towards the shapes.

The shapes resolved themselves into three pegasi as Theod drew nearer. They were wandering, seemingly aimlessly. Though they were mere paces from the Auxillias trail they had somehow not spotted the churned snow.

He had to lead them off somehow.

Theod reared up on his hindlegs, scooped up a fistful of snow and pitched it at one of the pegasi. It struck them in the helmet, and they turned, spear pointed at Theod.
The pegasi came at him, swords in teeth shown in eager smiles.

Theod turned and ran away from the Auxillias trail, downhill. If he could just lead them off and lose them in the mist, they might be safe. The snow grew thinner as he ran, suddenly terminating in a drop that forced Theod to skitter to a stop.

The mountainside dropped away in front of him, sheer and rocky. Theod turned back. The Cirrans were hot on his heels, gleeful hate in their eyes as they raced to be the one to gut him.

“This is a terrible idea.” Theod muttered, then threw himself backwards off the edge.

The cliff sped away from Theod as he fell. The legionaries followed close behind him, leaping from the rock in an effort to be the one to bag their kill.

Theod extended his wings and rolled the right way up. He did not attempt to slow his descent, but skimmed over the rocky scree slope. Boulders and ledges loomed out of the clouds before him, forcing him to jink and dodge.

Now Theod sincerely wished that the Auxillia had focused more on airborne combat. He had to go with what his father had taught him.

Theod risked a glance back and saw the lead pegasus just off to his left, moving fast enough to catch him with his spear. The griffon banked hard and rolled, flaring his wings to try and dump some of the speed he had gained.

Through the black spots dancing in his eyes, Theod saw the pegasus drift back in front of him and flare their own wings, slowing so quickly it seemed they had stopped.

Theod instinctively lashed out with a talon at the pegasus as he whipped past.The claws scraped off the pegasus’ helmet and Theod felt at least one of the points break on the metal. Something struck his palm and he reflexively clutched at it. The haft of the spear.

Theod pulled it close to his body, coming face to face with the legionary. She was an older mare, and her eyes showed only rage. Theod jammed his free talon into her face, gouging at those eyes and making her scream. The pegasus lost her grip on her spear and Theod kicked her away. She hit the rushing mountainside and left a red smear against the stone.

Another arrow flew past Theod, followed swiftly by a second that struck him in the rump. He stifled his cry of pain and tried to focus on not becoming a pulped mess on the mountainside. The clouds parted suddenly, opening up as they hit a layer of warmer air. Now they were at the treeline.

Theod stuck as close to the slope as he dared, the trunks of trees coming close enough to his wingtips to ruffle the feathers. The slope became far less steep here, and Theod was forced to follow the line of a dried stream as he and his pursuers shot down the mountainside. He risked a glance back over his shoulder.

The archer was the closest to him, staying out of reach of Theods stolen spear. Long-range shooting was impossible against the wind, so he had settled for trying to core the griffon up close. Behind him, the swordspony lurked, saving his energy.

Experimentally, Theod jinked to one side. The archer followed him slowly, trying to stay in his slipstream and being buffeted by the sudden gust at the edge of his wake.

Theod spread his wings, slowing himself slightly and allowing the archer an opportunity to line up a shot. A dead pine loomed in front of him, and the tercel prayed to whatever god would listen as he waited for the last possible moment, and then dodged out of the way.

The branches raked at his belly as he sped past, cutting whip-thin lines down his stomach. The archer following him was distracted and unprepared. He smashed into the trunk full-force.

Theod looked back to see the last pegasus powering towards him, his eyes filled with fury and grief for his lost comrades. He was closing fast.

The griffon beat his wings hard, trying to get his speed back. He knew he could not beat the pegasus in a straight-line race of acceleration. Nor could he dodge out of the way of the much smaller and more nimble flier. To roll over and try to thrust with his spear would just see him smash into some unseen obstacle.

Another bank of cloud reared up in front of Theod, its ephemeral bulk piling up against the mountainside.

Here, maybe, he had a chance.

As he punched through the cloud bank Theod pulled up and beat his wings as hard as he could. He felt the tendons strain and burn, his joints creaked dangerously and the feathers of his wings felt as if they were being plucked out. He swung the haft of his spear blindly into the path he had been following moments before.

The spear was wrenched from Theods talons as the last legionary struck it. It fell alongside the pegasus, seeming to drift away in a corona of blood. Silence fell.

- - -

Theod found the Auxillia a few hours later. After stopping to rest his wings he managed to struggle into the air and fly along the length of the spur until he spotted them once again, resting by the side of a paved road that ran along the valley floor.

He landed badly, stumbling and falling into the dirt. Tapfer came to his side, helped him up. His face was grim.

“What has happened?” Theod asked, breathless.

Silently Tapfer led Theod past the Auxillia. All faces were turned to the east. Aella seemed to be on the verge of tears, her talons shaking.

Theod looked up and saw what unsettled them so.

The whole sky down the valley was filled by a vast black column of smoke. It stained the very clouds a ghastly black. The milestone by the side of the road read ten miles to Konighorst.

Comments

[RoboRed]

The branches raked at his belly as he sped past, cutting whip-thin lines down his stomach. The archer following him was distracted and unprepared. He smashed into the trunk full-force.

...Ow.