The blast of light shook the swamp.

It sent tremors into the ground. It shattered a section of the Ancestor Tree’s titanic roots. The shockwave of air swept through the woods. It rocked the trees and peeled the leaves off the branches, creating a plume of debris that billowed up like a thunderhead of dust. Even from a distance, miles away from the Ancestor Tree, I could see it.

Venti. That was where she was.

“Big boom,” Aami said from my back, and I nodded.

“I’m speeding up.”

That was all the warning it got before I turned Galesong up to my maximum capacity. By now, it wasn’t so much as a run, but a glide. I leapt and the winds carried my weightless form up, up over the treetops. It roared behind me. Sent me blurring through the trees. I pulled the song tight over itself, pooling the wind around my legs in a twisting weave, before—

I stomped at empty air, and a jet of wind exploded beneath my feet.

My momentum doubled. I shot forward, a bullet now. A shield of steelwind surrounded me. It shattered the branches as I passed. I smashed through a tree, tore past the leaves, and funneled the wind into miniature shockwaves that sent me flying forward at a speed that caused my guts to sink and shake and twist.

In the distance, I heard the faint sound of another Galesong roaring through the trees. The dust cloud from the explosion burst again. Out from the side, a shockwave of air that could shatter stone split the cloud. A blue dot flew out of the storm.

And the Hag gave chase. I watched a raven the size of a house darken the sky above it. I watched the battle happen as I grit my teeth. Slow. I was still going too slow.

“Aami—” I said, over the roaring winds. “Can you help us go faster somehow?”

The eldritch horror worbled a laugh out of its gooey mass.

“Silly question, Rowan. Can!”

I felt the weight behind me shift, and Aami expanded. Obsidian tentacles shot out from behind to latch onto trees. The muscles in them tensed. Pulled me forward. Released.

A slingshot. Our speed doubled yet again.

We made a beeline for the chase at the base of the ancient tree, where a windstorm raged. Where a single Galesong was not enough to escape the clutches of the Hag. I clutched my bansuri tighter.

If one song was not enough, I would make it two.

And with two, we would make a maelstrom to slap the Hag-raven down from the sky.

Fall. Drowning Season. Rain began to drop from the sky.

As if angered by the explosion, the shaded clouds only darkened further. The thunderheads angrily curled overhead, looming, grasping forward like a wave of vapor aiming to swallow the earth. Raindrops as thick as fists smashed down from the clouds. They snapped branches. Shattered them. They drowned the ground and devoured the world beneath.

The swamp level rose. The roar of rain overpowered the sound of everything else. Animals fled into their burrows and their caves, opening their gills for the drowned months to come.

Venti zipped over them.

And they cowered as Vivian roared.

“You!” the Hag screeched, the voice emerging from her beak sharp as nails against a chalkboard. “You destroyed it all! My ingredients, my tools—everything!”

The Hag flew. A raven, as large as a small hill. Her feathers cast the world in shadow. Vivian’s wings were stormclouds that blocked out the sun. A hundred meters wide. That was how vast her wingspan was. And below her, a dot of blue light, no larger than a robin, tried to escape her wrath.

Venti's pursuer swept down from the sky with a swipe of her talons. The bluebird sang and the wind answered. It swept her aside and away from the Hag’s reach, and Venti turned to twinkle out another note.

Steelwind song.

Hammers of air smashed into the raven’s chest. Her wings. Her joints.

But Vivian’s feathers were black iron. And despite how powerful Venti’s sorcery was, she was no immortal. No master of the Unspoken like the Fae were. Her attacks left bruises but no lasting harm.

It only served to irritate the Hag even more.

“Fae-spawn wretch!”

Vivian dove and snapped with her beak, but Venti was quick. She wove around thousands of gigantic raindrops, dodging, dancing, calling the wind as if it were hers to command. The wind swept upwards and smashed into Vivian’s chin again. Her head snapped up and she spread her wings, fury distorting her features. The tips of her feathers glowed with arcane light, and the raindrops around her simply stopped.

They compressed. Formed into a hundred bullets of violent, deep-pressure water, heavy enough to tear through solid iron.

Shatter Rain. Ibbeathan Hydromancy.

Venti glanced back, her eyes wide and frantic. That wasn’t fair! Bringing learned magic into a fight between natural casters was—

The spell pulsed. Completion.

Venti paled and dove down into the swamp, under the leaves and the branches, away from sight. She ducked under a tree and the first of the bullets fell with deafening blasts. Air split as they passed. They were like cannonballs—snapping trees like dry twigs. They smashed stone and shattered earth as if both were glass. Venti flew around them, her small heart thundering in her chest, frantically weaving, chirping out Galesong, until—

One of the water bullets smashed into the flooded swamp in front of her. A blast of water roared over the howl of the rain and Venti felt the wave crash into her with the force of a thousand hammers. She pulled steelwind around her in defense.

Too late.

The half-formed shield of air splintered at the force of the attack. Venti’s bones broke—her organs crushed into pulp. Pain ripped through her mind, like white-hot knives raking through every corner of her, sharp, merciless—and then there was nothing. Venti fell into the water with a plop.

Dead.

Rain fell. A moment passed.

And then she opened her eyes.

Venti looked around, reorienting herself as the damage to her was undone. She hid beneath the water and even under the floods as a thin layer of Galesong propelled her through the rising water. The swamp was half-sunken, now. Enough that the water swallowed half of the smallest trees—twenty meters high.

She shivered underneath the tide.

That was three lives lost. And no matter how much Venti liked to believe that she had more to spare, she wasn’t sure just how much. How many deaths would it take? How long until she died and stopped coming back to life?

Finding out would be the last thing she ever did. Boons were far from all-powerful, and not even a Primordial’s blessing could keep her from death forever.

Venti pushed the thought aside and swam as a massive shadow flew over her position.

The Hag, flying above. Ignoring the violent raindrops pummeling her feathered back. She swept the ground with the eyes of her raven form, searching. Waiting for Venti to slip up and show herself again. Venti refused to give her that chance. She dove deeper, using Galesong to keep air in her tiny lungs.

All she had to do was hide for long enough. Once the Drowning Rains swallowed the swamp, she would be the needle to the Hag’s haystack. Tiny. Impossible to find.

Right now, she just had to—

A ripple spread through the water, and Venti felt her heart stop in her chest.

",̶͔́́.̵̩̅̄̆;̵̣͑̂'̶̧́̀ͅ.̶͙̳̙̋,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋.̶͉̫̊̃͌ͅ,̸͓͆̾̆,̶̹̲̓.̸̛̝͔͉͐̐,̸̥͙̕;̶͓͎̒̄̈́'̵̹͉̑͜;̷̧̗̫̉̈.̷̠͕̃͆̒,̶̗̗͛͜'̵̱̄̑̑'̷̪̊̾;̶̭̼͛̇͠.̷̰̥̱̽̀̒'̸͈͘,̷̱̈́̅'̸̝̫̈́͋.̷̢̍'̷̯̥̋ͅ'̷͇̝̖̓̆̈́;̶̡͖̙͐̆'̶͓̣̑̐;̶̫̋̓'̶͉̲̈̾.̴̫͐,̶̻͐̈'̴̟̰͋̑.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋;̶̭̼͛̇͠.̷̰̥̱̽̀̒'̸͈͘,̷̱̈́̅'̸̝̫̈́͋.̷̢̍'̷̯̥̋ͅ'̷͇̝̖̓̆̈́;̶̡͖̙͐̆'̶͓̣̑̐;̶̫̋̓'̶͉̲̈̾.̴̫͐,̶̻͐̈'̴̟̰͋̑.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̵̩̅̄̆;̵̣͑̂'̶̧́̀ͅ.̶͙̳̙̋,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋.̶͉̫̊̃͌ͅ,̸͓͆̾̆,̶̹̲̓.̸̛̝͔͉͐̐,̸̥͙̕;̶͓͎̒̄̈́'̵̹͉̑͜;̷̧̗̫̉̈.̷̠͕̃͆̒,̶̗̗͛͜'̵̱̄̑̑'̷̪̊̾;̶̭̼͛̇͠.̷̰̥̱̽̀̒'̸͈͘,̷̱̈́̅'̸̝̫̈́͋.̷̢̍'̷̯̥̋ͅ'̷͇̝̖̓̆̈́

.̷̢̍'̷̯̥̋ͅ'̷͇̝̖̓̆̈́;̶̡͖̙͐̆'̶͓̣̑̐;̶̫̋̓'̶͉̲̈̾.̴̫͐,̶̻͐̈'̴̟̰͋̑.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̵̩̅̄̆;̵̣͑̂'̶̧́̀ͅ.̶͙̳̙̋,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋.̶͉̫̊̃͌ͅ,̸͓͆̾̆,̶̹̲̓.̸̛̝͔͉͐̐,̸̥͙̕ ;̶̡͖̙͐̆'̶͓̣̑̐;̶̫̋̓'̶͉̲̈̾.̴̫͐,̶̻͐̈'̴̟̰͋̑.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒;̵'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑,̶̹̲̓.̸̛̝͔͉͐̐,̸̥͙̕ ;̶̡͖̙͐̆'̶͓̣̑̐;̶̫̋̓'̶͉̲̈̾.̴̫͐,̶̻͐̈'̴̟̰͋̑.̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒ ,̶͔́́.̵̩̅̄̆;̵̣͑̂'̶̧́̀ͅ.̶͙̳̙̋,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̷͙̈̃̆,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋.̶͉̫̊̃͌ͅ,̸͓͆̾̆,̶̹̲̓.̸̛̝͔͉͐̐,̸̥͙̕;̶͓͎̒̄̈́'̵̹͉̑͜;̷̧̗̫̉̈.̷̠͕̃͆̒,̶̗̗͛͜'̵̱̄̑̑'̷̪̊̾;̶̭̼͛̇͠.̷̰̥̱̽̀̒'̸͈͘,̷̱̈́̅'̸̝̫̈́͋.̷̢̍ “

Sorcery. Unspoken Tongue.

The water began to rise. Up, up, until it separated from the ground. Venti tried to swim against it, but the currents were like a thousand pushing hands, countering all of her attempts to rush forward. No—they shoved her up. Up to where the rest of the water went.

The ground became smaller. Distant. As the tide carried her away, Venti looked around and realized what her kidnapper was doing.

She was creating a globe of water in the sky.

A prison. Just for her.

The bitch was trying to corner her like a rat! Venti clenched her talons, hot fury in her chest. This would not stand. Not for her. Or at least, it would have in the past. But now, all she could do was grit her beak and swim forward, into a dead log floating in the water. Venti hid inside of the hollow, and her talons dug deep into the rotten wood.

Venti peered out and watched. Waited.

The raven slipped into the water from outside, and the Hag’s form changed again. She twisted into herself, coiling—then stretching. Crunching and popping and tearing at her flesh. Mending the wounds even as they appeared. She elongated into a snow-pale serpent of flesh in the water, hundreds of meters long. The serpent’s head had her face; her long, goblin’s nose and her rows of hooked teeth, like a lamprey’s mouth. Her form alone occupied a third of the Hag’s watery prison.

“I’ve seen you die twice,” the Hag-serpent said, her voice reverberating through the water. She was calm, now. Her previous anger forgotten in the face of curiosity, “You died once, during the explosion. And again. Seconds ago. I saw it.”

She looked around, searching. Looking for her. Venti pressed herself deeper into the shadows. She watched the Hag slither forward, and Venti watched the length of the serpent’s body slowly pass outside of her hiding place. She followed it with her eyes, the Hag’s head looking around with a frown on her face.

“I knew it was strange, the way you were so different from the rest of your kind. Intelligence like yours is abnormal among nature spirits. And a Boon, on top of it all? You aren’t a Fae servant, are you, bird?”

The Hag passed and Venti scratched her talons into the wood. Slowly, quietly. Using whatever sound she could to channel Galesong. To prepare for another attempt at escape. Wind slowly swirled around her, bubbling into the water, weak and unsteady. It was impractical—this kind of sorcery. Slow and weak and all too reliant on constant sound. But it was all she had.

And it was all she was capable of copying from Rowan.

The Hag continued to speak into the murk.

“No… you’re something else. Are you like me, child? Hm? Did the Fae curse you as well? Or perhaps it was a Demon, instead. Who was it? Azhula? Keravathe? Gerrash?”

The serpent-Hag clicked her teeth and a sharp chtick echoed through the water. Venti took the chance to dart out of the log while the serpent’s head was turned. She sped through the water and into a floating shrub, right above the Hag’s head. Venti watched her speak into the water, her words accompanied by an echoing hiss.

“It matters little, in the end. Come out, little bird. Tiny Venti. Make this easy for an old woman like me.”

Venti gathered all the power she could. She watched the Hag’s head come closer. Closer. “I need you," she said. "I need the knowledge in that clever little brain of yours. All I ask for is a little cooperation. After all, you can’t escape when...” Venti cut her off with a loud chirp, and the Galewind she gathered burst out from below her. Shot her forward, a little blue bullet. She condensed steelwind around her. Honed it to a sharpened tip.

If she couldn’t crush the Hag’s skin, she would pierce it. The Hag turned to her with a grin even as she shot forward.

“Found yo—”

Venti slammed the steelwind spike into her face. Right in her swollen, green eye. The flesh beneath her attack gave away with a wet pop and the Hag screamed as her eye burst like a grape. Red blood sprayed out into the water and turned it thick with gore. But Venti wasn't done. Not until the prison remained floating. So she gathered the steelwind into her talons and raked them down, tearing the side of the serpent’s face open.

The Hag whipped her head around and slammed it into Venti. The impact crushed her. Killed her again.

Venti’s crumpled form shot through the water, broken beyond repair, but the bones in her tiny body still glued themselves back up. One by one, as if her injuries were an illusion of the past. She turned. Shot toward the edge of the globe of water. Behind her, the Hag writhed and screamed, and she lost focus of her spell. The sorcery vanished. The Unspoken Tongue ceased.

And the watery prison crashed down from the sky.

The aqueous mass fell onto the forest with a deafening boom. A crash of splintering wood and roaring water swept over the swamp, and Venti flew over it, channeling Galesong to the limit as she took cover among the trees once again. But the Hag was still hot on her heels. Her ruined eye leaked blood as her serpent form blurred down, snapping at the air. Venti veered to the left. The Hag’s fangs missed by inches. She slammed into the ground and tore a white gash of foam along the floodwater.

The serpent's tail whipped down from above. It smashed into the swamp and the explosion sent Venti tumbling, crashing to the side of a tree. She landed on a branch, panting. Her leg and left wing were broken. But she was only injured—not dead. The Boon didn't reverse the damage when it didn't threaten her life.

In front of her, the Hag rose from the water with an angry roar, and she swept forward, mouth open, ready to swallow Venti and the tree whole.

Until a voice came from the sky.

“Cute snake!”

And rescue came in the form of a shoggoth.

Venti watched a black blur smash into the Hag’s face with an earth-splitting boom. The Hag flew back. Her head shattered trees and splashed into the water, meters away, her face caved in and her bones splintered like wet wood. She reared up, eyes flaring with magic, but before her mouth could open, the familiar sound of a bansuri filled the air.

Blades of steelwind tore her face to shreds. Spears, claws, and invisible swords of wind shredded the skin from her skull and screeched against the bone beneath. Sparks flew from the collision. Bone scarred. Blood sprayed. Screeching, the Hag’s serpent form evaporated into white steam, billowing out as the polymorphic magics gave out under the assault.

Venti watched a half-troll land on the branch in front of her, a black mass of ooze and eyes riding on his back.

He wore a cloak, now, and a rifle he didn’t know how to use was slung over his back. Rowan leaned down and picked her up, cradling her in his hands. He frowned down at her.

“Did you get fatter while I was gone?"

Venti chirped the equivalent of ‘fuck you, too’ at him in bird-speak. He grinned.

“Missed you too, buddy.”

“Buddy!”

The alien abomination on his back chimed in, and Venti stared at the creature’s many eyes in horror. It wriggled tiny tentacles towards her, and Venti pecked at them weakly. Kept them away. Even when injured, there was no way she was letting something like that touch her. The shoggoth deflated under her glare.

“Not buddy.”

Venti scoffed, and Rowan turned towards where he destroyed the serpent’s head. The Hag stomped out of the polymorphic steam in her cursed, hunched form, one of her eyes swollen shut. Little gashes marred the entirety of her face. The Hag saw him and snarled with bloody teeth.

The shoggoth waved at her with a tentacle.

“Hellooo!”

“You,” The Hag said, regarding the eldritch creature with sharp, gritted teeth. “Do you understand what that is?”

Rowan shrugged, before resting the bansuri on his shoulder like a stick. “Aami? Don’t know, don’t care. I’m here for my bird and something else—I was promised tea, old lady. Where the hell are the biscuits?"

He slipped Venti inside his cloak pocket where she watched. She glanced down and saw his legs shaking underneath his cloak; a reaction to fear, plain and raw. And a mask of bravado in front of a foe he wasn’t sure he could beat. Venti sighed.

If he pissed himself, she was going to peck him. In the eye. But for now...

She supposed being a little impressed wasn't so bad.