XXXVIII. She Painted Fire Across the Skyline

The pale green glow of Virides Occuli bathed the clearing in a cool, ethereal light. Marked by a mile-long strip of cracked and disintegrating asphalt, a crumbling tower and several ruins hidden in the tree line. The road was from before the time of the collapse, but curiously, no trees and scant few weeds grew on or around it.

Enyo yawned loudly as she fiddled with her blades. While well balanced weapons, they simply lacked the weight she was accustomed to. They were the tools of women and assassins, an object of utility rather than warfare. Unlike the blade of her uncle, her great sword had been forged in Alfheim of silver and was of an elegant design, not the crude slabs of steel favored by the other Colby-Nau. Her only hope was to find another in the village up ahead, but she had her reservations.

“Where the hell are they…” Donough folded his arms across his chest and tapped his finger against his forearm. “This is ridiculous.”

Enyo shrugged and juggled her blades. “Perhaps he died.”

Donough shook his head. “Nae, he’s far too stubborn fer that.”

“Wanna go ahead without them?”

Donough smirked and patted Enyo on the head. “We’ll have oor chance, nae need tae rush fate.”

Enyo looked up as something rustled in the underbrush. Several night birds cried out and took to the sky. The ensuing silence was broken by a stiff breeze and the distant call of an owl, and Enyo shivered as the tension subsided. This was the first time she had visited the forests of Alfheim, and she hadn’t expected it to be so mundane and yet simultaneously alien. The trees, ancient and gnarled sentinels of a bygone era, held a certain familiar presence to them. Everything in the ancient wood had a vibrancy to it, more than simply being alive, it was almost as if it were sentient. While intellectually she knew this to be nerves or an overactive imagination, she had the distinct impression that someone or something was watching them.

“Uncle,” Enyo jammed her dagger into the dirt, “do ye know what this place is?”

“Cannae say that I do…” He replied, stretching his seemingly forever sore shoulder, and glanced around the clearing. “It's old, made by men most likely. Weird that nae trees grew o’er it.”

Enyo pulled her dagger from the dirt and caught a curious reflection in the metal. She leapt up with a gasp and scanned the field.

“See something?” Donough asked as he drew his massive blade.

All around them was waist tall grass and the crumbling road way. Heavy clouds filled the night sky, and began to slowly drift past the moon, bringing intermittent darkness. Enyo swore and lowered herself into a fighting crouch. She was an experienced grappler, and was no stranger to danger, but still, her heart was drumming like a hummingbird’s wings in her chest. She took a deep breath and hopped down from her perch on the boulder. It had been decades since she did any kind of knife play, and she hoped her sword techniques were transferable to close quarters knife fighting, but couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

“Oi!” Donough called in a husky whisper. “Wake the fuck up!”

The mage and monk did not respond, and Donough backed up towards where they had lay down to rest. Enyo bit her lip and quickly followed, her eyes darting about the empty field in search of whatever was stalking them.

“Oi!” Donough said a little louder as he searched the ground with his foot. “I said wake up!”

A stiff breeze set the grass in motion like the waves on the ocean. With the rustling of foliage came the distinct scent of iron, the sickly smell of iron that came from blood rather than stone. Donough placed his back to his niece and searched the field with an intensive gaze. Enyo took a breath, her body trembling with uncharacteristic terror. Whatever was out there had gotten the drop on them, and she was not exactly confident in her ability to fend them off with a couple of dinky daggers.

‘They’ll likely attack when the clouds pass before the moon.”

Enyo swallowed hard and tightened her grip on the daggers. “Aye.”

As the last of the pale green light was obscured by a dark cloud that carried the threat of rain, a demon pounced from grass, straight at Enyo’s throat. The creature had been hidden less than a meter to her left, and she had no time to react. Her eyes wide with terror, she feebly raised her arms, and was knocked to the ground. She quickly rolled over, expecting to see the slobbering beast pinning her down, but instead saw Donough cleave the beast horizontally from its mouth to its hind-quarters.

It was a gangly and sickly-looking creature, with the mottled fur and sinewy limbs of a cheetah, a lion’s mane and a rabid wolf’s snout and jaws. Donough flicked his blade and the creature slid off, dumping its entrails into the ground. With equal ease, he lifted Enyo to her feet and put his back to hers once more. Embarrassed by her weakness, Enyo steadied her trembling hands by sheer force of will and turned her steeled gaze to the grass. The weapons felt useless in her hands, decades of technique and practice of form with the long blade offered her nothing when wielding the spindly knives in her hands. It was a feeling of vulnerability she was neither accustomed to nor comfortable with.

Another one of the creatures leapt up at her, and Enyo caught its head in a pincer with her daggers. Using her whole body for leverage, she flung the cat-dog demon several meters onto the pavement, and set it alight with a well-placed arc of fire. Donough and Enyo hastily retreated onto the ancient strip of road, using the light of the burning corpse as a torch. The footing was better, and their enemies vector of attack was limited, but still, she felt trepidation.

Donough grabbed one of the beats from the air by the throat as it pounced at him, stabbed it once in the stomach, and flung the howling cat into another. Enyo swiped at an approaching cat, but the wily creature hopped to the side, evading her strikes in an almost mocking fashion. The creature let out a bark that sounded like an old man’s hacking laugh as it danced around her, drawing her away from her uncle.With a frustrated scream, Enyo leapt onto the mangy creature and dug her blade into its eye and the other in its flank. Rolling onto her back as the creature writhed and gnashed at the air, Enyo lashed out with a double heeled donkey kick to the creature’s side. Its ribs cracked audibly as it was sent tumbling back into the grass.

As Enyo kipped to her feet, Donough grabbed her roughly by the arm and led her down the road. Their jog quickly turned into a sprint, and she glanced over her shoulder to see why. The creatures were not a few opportunistic scavengers, but a pack of dozens.

Donough abruptly swore and held out his arm, nearly knocking the wind from Enyo as she ran into him. As she looked up to see what caused him to stop, all color fled from her face and her knees went weak. Donough lifted her back to her feet as he maneuvered himself between the demon executioner, the one called Alastor, and his virtually unarmed niece.

The giant demon in an executioner’s hood and apron approached with lumbering, methodical steps. The demon's wicked axe shrieked and belched forth a shower of sparks as he dragged it against the road. With the ease of a man lifting a mere wood axe, the demon hefted the weapon that likely weighed as much as a mule onto his broad shoulder.

“Enyo…” The creature growled with glee. “How I had hoped to find thee again.”

Behind them, the pack of snarling hounds kept a respectable distance, either out of fear or deference to the executioner. He held out a massive arm and beckoned the elves forward, the shackles at his wrists jingled ominously, like the sound of a prisoner being led to the chopping block. Enyo shivered violently and took up a defensive stance, certain that this would be the night she finally knew death.

With uncanny speed, Alastor covered the several meters that stood between them in mere seconds. She barely had time to utter a terrified squeak as he grabbed her by the neck between his thumb and forefinger, lifting her clear off the ground. She felt as if her eyes were going to pop out of her head as she scratched and clawed at his wrists. Just as her vision began to darken, Donough let out a roar and brought his sword down on the demon’s arm with the force of an erupting mountain. Despite putting all of his weight behind the two-handed strike, the white hot blade only managed to just barely break the demon's skin.

Alastor turned his head to Donough and sagged his shoulders with an annoyed sigh. He released his grasp on Enyo, and she collapsed into a gasping mess at its feet. Donough pulled his blade free and tried to leap back, but was not quick enough to avoid catching a backhanded fist to the face. All light in his eyes abruptly faded as he flew through the air and hit the ground in an unconscious heap.

Enyo scrambled to her feet and attempted to flee back into the forest, but was halted by the snarling pack of cat-dogs and their gaudy pelts. Alastor slowly plodded towards her, and with an absurd speed he lunged at Enyo, knocking her to the ground with an open-handed swat. She lets out a bloodcurdling scream that is abruptly silenced when she hits the ground and bounces back like a rubber ball. Alastor grabbed her by the leg in the brief instant she was airborne again, and effortlessly flung her across the field.

“Enyo!” The demon bellowed. “Thou are not even trying!”

Enyo coughed up blood as she rolled onto her side. Several ribs were most definitely broken, and both her tibia and fibula were shattered. Blood and tears obscured her vision as she tried in vain to crawl onto her knees. Her heart skipped a beat as the shadow of the demon suddenly loomed over her. She slowly craned her head to see the monster drop its axe at its feet and fiddle with its belt.

“Come girl, transform to thy celestial form, I have raped more elves than can be counted, and wish to have my way with a goddess.”

Enyo’s eyes widened with outrage and horror as the demon dropped his trousers and lifted his apron. The throbbing phallus was far too big for any mortal woman to accommodate, and covered in lesions and leaking pustules. Enyo tore at the dirt and grass, ripping her nails from her fingers as he grabbed her by the leg and yanked her up. She had always been prepared for death, but not like this. Enyo closed her eyes and let darkness take her.

* * *

Alastor stumbled back a step, clumsily pulling his trouser back up as flames engulfed the woman at his feet. He swore as he looked at his hand that once clutched her, the flesh was charred down to the bone. Her limp body rose up into the air and two wings of fire sprouted from between her shoulders. A grin curled on his diseased lips as he watched the woman glow like a white-hot forge. Like their last encounter, her wings coalesced into those of a phoenix, the bright plumage shimmering with the colors of the rainbow, the feathers like crystalized fire. As her clothing burned away, the ashes formed into a flowing stola that hung from her left shoulder, leaving her right breast exposed. The fabric billowed in the heat vane that formed around her, as iron greaves and bracers formed on her limbs.

The reborn goddess stretched her arms and flapped her wings once, the gentle gust of wind instantly vaporized a large swath of the pack that had surrounded them. An iron crown of thorns settled upon her brow, and a wicked curved sword rose up from the ground, wreathed in flames, offered up by the skeletal hands of the dead. Enyo flapped her wings once again, engulfing the clearing in flames and killing the remainder of the cat-hounds.

She wrapped a delicate hand around the bone and leather handle of the scimitar, and the skeletal hands retreated back into the soil. Enyo held the blade up to admire it, her dichromatic eyes now a sickly shade of yellow wringed in fiery orange. Her once soft, bright blonde hair now living fire and smoke. She swung the blade, the power of the stroke left a vacuum in its wake and several explosions, as the edge was sharp enough to split the atoms of the air around it in passing.

“Ho ho!” Alastor laughed as he raised his axe. “Hath thou finally deigned to grace me with thy presence?”

Enyo cut her eyes at the demon, and her lips curled in disgust. “You, filth,” She casually pointed in the direction of Donough, “Did you kill that man?”

“No,” Alastor growled as he prepared to charge, “But I shall kill you!”

Alastor barreled towards her like an arrow, his great axe tearing through the air as he swung it. Enyo sighed and gently pushed him away with her hand, and floated towards the fallen Donough. Alastor hit the ground with a massive thud, the impact creating a crater several meters deep and nearly twice as wide. The stunned demon clawed himself back up to his knees, half of his mask burned away, and a handprint where she had touched him burned onto the side of his face.

Enyo knelt by Donough’s side, and cradled his head in her lap. “Brave warrior, thy valor hath done me great honor.” She caressed his face with her hand, causing his wound to burn away. “Rest now, I still have much use for one such as thee.”

She lay him down and stood, turning just as Alastor crawled from the crater. He tore off the tattered hood, revealing a bloated face covered in open sores and crawling with maggots.

“Fire bending cunt! I intended to offer you a swift and merciful fucking to death, but now, now I will pluck each tooth from that smug mouth of yours and skull fuck you for an eternity!”

Enyo sneered with disgust as she rose up into the air. “Such vulgarity is unnecessary.”

“Speak so bold when my cock-!”

Before he could finish his thought, Enyo climbed up towards the moon and swooped down with the speed of a falcon in full dive. She stopped directly in front of him for a fraction of a second, the backdraft sending tepid gusts carrying dust and embers to wash over them, and shot straight up into the air once more. She corkscrewed as she climbed, and spread her wings to halt her ascent, looking down impassively to witness her handiwork.

The demon Alastor, evenly split into two halves, was promptly consumed by a conflagration. The fire and smoke that ensued after the blinding flash of light rose up into a column, fanning out like the stem and cap of a mushroom. Enyo exhaled and blew out the flames into the clearing, and inhaled without delay, drawing in all the smoke and embers.

* * *

“What the hell?” Aichlan shielded his eyes from the flash as shockwaves sent dirt and embers billowing over them.

When the rumbling subsided, he looked up to see the winged figure effortlessly blow out the flames with a single breath, and draw in the smoke as if she were inhaling from a cigarette. Rowena peered from around the charred tree she had been hiding behind, and pointed towards the road.

“There! I think I see Donough!”

Aichlan was barely able to make out the prone form of the elf, and turned a cautious gaze back to the winged woman. “Yeah, but who the fuck is that?”

No sooner he had spoken, the woman turned in their direction and dove towards them. Aichlan leapt back, cracking his head against a tree as the woman came to a stop mere inches away from him. Black symbols danced across her skin like smoke rising from an extinguished fire, and he had difficulty telling if the silken locks upon her head consisted of hair or fire. She cocked out her hip of her uncovered leg, her flimsy gown billowing wildly in a breeze of her making. A glowing orange scar ran from her left shoulder, between her breast and terminating at her right hip.

“Enyo?” Aichlan asked in disbelief. “What the hell happened to you?”

Enyo planted her sword into the dirt, and it returned to flame before vanishing. “Aichlan, thou too are a valiant warrior who does honor to my name. Thou will serve me well in the coming age.”

“What?” Aichlan rubbed the back of his head. “You aren’t making sense.”

Not only her appearance, but voice was different, akin to the haughty children in Eloi, or the self righteous calm of Saint Cecily. It was beyond the simple loss of an accent and dialect, it was as if she had become a different person entirely.

“Is Donough dead?” Rowena exclaimed as she jogged towards him. “He isn’t moving.”

“Shit.” Aichlan gently pushed his way past Enyo. “Come on!”

Rowena knelt and placed two fingers to Donough’s throat. She breathed a sigh of relief upon finding his heart was still beating. The big elf stirred as she lifted his head and put a water skin to his lips, letting the cool liquid pour over his cracked lips before he was able to drink.

“Fear not my devoted acolyte’s, thou brother in arms hath not yet been claimed by my sister’s keys.”

“Why the fuck are you talking like that?” Aichlan demanded. “Your uncle almost died!”

Donough coughed and propped himself on his elbow. “Enyo?”

“Easy,” Rowena urged. “She’s alive.”

“And damn batty.” Aichlan said as he relaxed. “Where are-“

Donough waved off more water and held out his hand to Aichlan. “Dead. They snuck up on us.”

Aichlan grunted as he pulled the elf to his feet. “Lucky your niece was here to save your ass.”

Donough looked Enyo up and down, and his shoulders sagged. “That’s…that’s nae her…”

Aichlan put his hand to his sword as he backed away from the winged woman. “Then who—?”

“Dead.” Enyo said evenly.

“What do you mean dead?” Rowena demanded, “You’re standing right there!” She looked to Aichlan and Donough with growing panic. “She’s standing right in front of us!”

“What have ye done?” Donough whispered, falling to his knees once more.

“The child was too weak to stand against the fiend Alastor, I needed her to perish if I were to tap into my full potential.” Enyo placed her hand to her breast and a small flame formed. “Her heroic sacrifice hath not been in vain however, I shall carry her ember for all of time, and stand as a monument to her bravery and valor.”

“Give her back.” Donough demanded, clenching his hands into fists, digging his fists into the dirt as he attempted to stand.

Enyo frowned. “Ignorance and grief blind you my son, but in time you shall come to understand.”

Four black stallions the size of elephants exploded from behind the tree line, issuing forth a shower of splinters and branches. The stallions circled the small group, pulling a black open chariot with wheels made of spears, swords, and human bones. Enyo hopped into the chariot and grabbed the reins, raising one hand to wave goodbye.

“What the fuck…” Aichlan breathed.

“Give her back!” Donough roared as he lunged at the chariot.

Enyo snarled as she furrowed her brow and held up her hand. A wall of light suddenly appeared between the two of them, and Donough collided with it as if it were made of brick.

“Grief and ignorance can only be forgiven up to a point.” She said ominously. “But fear not brave warrior, you have not blundered your way out of my favor. Yet.”

Donough wiped his eyes on his arm, seemingly unconcerned with the bleeding gash on his forehead. “Please, she’s all I have left.”

Enyo, or whatever she was now, regarded him with indifference. “My temple in Eurithania has fallen to disrepair, buried beneath the sands. Repair it, and I shall make thee my champion.”

Donough slammed his fist into the pavement. “I daen’t give a fuck about any o’ that!” He sobbed, no longer bothering to hide his tears. “I raised that girl as if she were my own, I just want her back…tae tell her…tae tell her I loved her. That I’m sorry I was nae the father she deserved. Grant me that at least…”

Enyo looked down at him in what was both pity and contempt. “Once you have completed the task I command of thee, we may consider these other…requests.”

Aichlan drew his sword and stepped forward. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Enyo smiled in cruel amusement. “Foolish mortals thou truly hath forgotten thy place in the world, however, as with children, thou must be taught.” Enyo pointed to the sky, now alight with a fiery glow at dawn's approach. “This is the season of Linh; my own star is still far from this sphere. I have been gone far too long, and my sister hath too long wreaked havoc. As such, I am weary and must return.”

Rowena wiped the blood from Donough’s forehead with a handkerchief. “Your star? Do you expect us to believe you are one of the sister’s?”

“The constellation?” Aichlan asked.

“Ah, so there are those yet who remember us. Well then child of Linh, spread word of our ways, so that men way once more offer us our due praise.”

Enyo, or rather, the entity that had replaced Enyo snapped her reigns and the stallions took off like an arrow let fly. They raced up into the air before turning to a bolt of fire and streaking off into the heavens.