‘I am never eating wings again,’ I thought to myself, repulsed by the gruesome sight that was forced unto me. I had no choice. Anna’s muteness necessitated my presence as her translator. Otherwise, the hunters would not understand her cruel commands.

Jehan, ever so considerate, brought me a bucket full of cold water. I swashed and flossed as best as I could, trying to get rid of the residue of the smelly substance that I had vomited. The puke-inducing acidic stench still lingered in my mouth, but it did not hold a candle against the smell of burning flesh and feather.

“Argh!”

I came to my senses to the sound of a painful scream. With a large pincer, men were pulling out the poor thing’s talons one by one. The harpy’s face was pale, and she was bleeding from the stumps where her wings had been severed. There still was an arrow stuck in her heavy-breathing chest, my Anna’s deed. This one wasn’t going to survive anyway. The fall had caused too much damage. In that sense, inducing more pain to the harpy was rather meaningless. Yet, Anna wished to get her point across. To the rest of the flock who were watching down from above.

Anna motioned for me. Disgusted, I shouted.

“Next!”

The mutilated harpy was dragged away, and another one was brought and thrown down before Anna. This one, a bit owl-like. An arrow had firmly lodged itself into the poor creature’s shoulder. Judging by the limpness of the dangling wing, the arrow might have shattered the joint. She had somehow managed to land safely, but given what was waiting for her, maybe it would have been better to have died. The harpy knew what was to come. She was whimpering in fear, trying to crawl away from the monstrosity that stood before her.

Anna looked upward. Her cold eyes scanned the smoke-filled sky. Loitering high up in the air, the harpies of the Roseland flapped their wings in hatred and anger, helplessly watching their captured kins suffer. Still, they were stubborn.

Anna scoffed and waved her hand at the waiting men. They nodded in return. The harpy was pinned on the ground, and she screamed and cursed and shat bucketload as her wings were one by one ruthlessly whacked by a hatchet. After a much agonizing moment, the severed wings were thrown into a large fire.

The harpy knew it wouldn’t end with just her wings. Talons were to come next. There was a sense of dread on her tortured face. Death would have been more preferable to living the rest of her life as a harmless, flightless chicken. Anna was hurting the harpies where it hurt them the most.

The harpy flailed and screamed as a talon was torn from its root. She still had some more to go, and the anticipation of the coming pains was more than enough to reduce the creature to a broken mess. Finally, Jehan, too, retched. He puked a puddle of vomit and shivered in pure terror. I sensed him wavering. He was afraid. His eyes darted around, trying to evade a direct sight of the child born of the roses.

Anna La Rose. Merely a ten-year-old child, yet the Roseborn was proving herself to be an exceptional monster.

###

I better start again and fill in the gap, those prior months that I skipped. Perhaps a bit about Anna’s bow. Yes, that would be more sensible.

It was sometime after Anna’s tenth birthday. The weather had been good, and the days peaceful. I myself, though, was suffering from an intense headache as Anna followed me around, banging the tabor that I had gifted as her birthday present. A grave mistake that I deeply regretted and vowed never to repeat. It would be years later that I realized Anna was playing the drumbeat of her own divine marching tune that announced Firis, but for now, I dreaded every second of it. The noise, combined with the incessant tinkling sound of the bell on Anna’s wrist, had become so mind-numbing that the Baron stepped in and took the offending drum away. That, of course, led to Anna throwing a tantrum and bawling like a mad kid.

“Of course, you had to gift her a tabor. Of all things!” the Baroness frowned at me as she swept into the scene. She then turned to her husband. “And you had to go and take it away. Now the noise is even more deafening!”

The Baron and I cowered and whimpered away from Her Ladyship. The Baroness hugged the crying child and negotiated a metaphorical carrot. And thus, Anna was promised she would be allowed to accompany her father’s hunting trip.

Although the Baron himself had always been a poor hunter, he nevertheless enjoyed the occasion.

“It always is refreshing to mingle with folks and partake in their professions,” he used to say. However, it wasn’t like he was just tagging along with a group of serious hunters going out to earn their living. Real hunters quietly tracked and trapped, whereas His Lordship’s hunting was more of flush and bag style. Peasants would volunteer and drive games out of woods and bushes into a clearing where the Baron and a handful of prominent figures of the Roseland waited with their bows ready. Folks volunteered to come along, for it was one of those joyous occasions where they were allowed to mock and laugh at the nobleman’s poor marksmanship. But in honest people were friendly and were always eager to offer tips and guidance.

“Milord, lead the arrow into the boar’s path,” they would say and go onto down the said boar themselves.

As a child, I had already tagged along several times. I myself always looked forward to the Baron’s hunting trips, not because of the thrill of hunting, but because there was a lake abundant with fish dumb enough to be caught by me. The lake was the home of one mythic carp that was rumored to be the size of an ox and at least two hundred years old. Needless to say, nobody had actually seen it with their own eyes, but I had always fantasized I would be the one to catch it.

So, as soon as I heard we were going, I packed my fishing gear. I packed Anna’s, too, just in case she got bored of sitting around waiting for a woodland creature to break cover. I was quite confident she would get bored very quickly. I asked her if she would like to help me, to which she said yes, and we went out in the garden with shovels and dug up plenty of worms.

###

About a day's travel southward from my town, there was a large crescent-shaped patch of dense woods half-enveloping the western shore of an oval lake. On the first day, upon arrival in the evening, we set up our camp at the lake's northern shore, near the edge of the woods, and then called it a day.

Together with a handful of servants, Anna and I fished under what little sun that remained. The Baroness excitingly fussed over the growing heap of gasping fish by Anna's feet. The girl had found a good spot and was on fire, hauling in a catch every minute as if the lake was a generous vending machine.

To my disappointment, I did not catch the big legendary carp. I told myself I would get it the next day. We nevertheless caught plenty of fish, and the cook grilled them over a large fire. He stood tall before the hot flame, face scowling in concentration. He would occasionally sprinkle salt and herbs over the skewered fish, and the smell was oh so salivating as the skins crinkled and droplets of fat dripped down onto the burning logs and sizzled.

Other parties started to arrive in horse-driven carriages; wealthy merchants, men of positions who could spare the time, and some friends of the Baron, et cetera et cetera. Our camp grew and was full of laughter as men greeted each other. Most of them knew me well, and they patted my small back and ruffled up my hair and congratulated me for becoming the Majordome of the La Rose house. They dotted on Anna, knelt, and kissed the girl's hand. The child's ego pushed her chin high, and she thoroughly enjoyed being regarded as the Roseland's precious.

Around the short window of the time when the sun and the moon shared the same sky, folks from the nearby village came by. They brought wagons loaded with baskets filled with bread loaves and fruits and such. They also brought barrels of meads and ales, which were heartedly welcomed with many thanks. We sat around the fire and shared a good time. His belly full, the Baron stood up and wished the villagers a good year, and then the folks started playing fiddles and lutes. Village maidens danced to the tune, skipping and flirting around and around the largest fire. Anna and I weren't familiar with the local songs, so we just locked our arms side by side and skipped around the fire in a large circle, going lalala lalala.

Boys of my age were considered pseudo-adults and would generally find skipping around the fire childish and embarrassing. But then again, I was small and looked much younger than I actually was, so people tended to forget I was fourteen. I actually enjoyed doing these childish things. Personal preference aside, I had the luxury of being in charge of a ten-year-old girl. I was mandated to engage in kiddie activities with Anna, a position that I fully exploited whenever possible. Thank you, Anna.

When Anna and I got too tired from all that dancing and singing and skipping around, we found a nice patch of soft grass and laid ourselves side by side, looking up at the early stars that glistened in the violet dark. I pointed out some constellations that I recognized, and Anna listened and demanded stories about them. After a couple of celestial tales, it dawned on me. I was more familiar with this sky than with the stars of my previous life.

There were no satellites. No airplanes blinking their lights. No sea of neons and LEDs. No Batman signal either. Just some lumps of fluffy clouds and shy stars. But I wondered why the moon cycled its shape. Then I wondered about the sun's path in the sky, and the times of the year, too. Remarkably familiar, yet so foreign even after all these years. The most notable difference was that this world's moon, when full, displayed an immensely long yet arcing crater that made the moon look as if smiling. 'How the heck did it get a crater like that,' I wondered.

'What are you thinking?' Anna asked, her hands extended upwards so I can see them without having to rise up.

"I am thinking about the moon. And the sun. And the orbits."

'What about them?'

"They are quite similar to… never mind," I trailed off and shook my head.

I heard Anna turning. She lay on her side to face me. I turned my face sideways towards her and gave a quick smile.

'You mean your world, right? Do you miss it? Do you yearn to go back?'

"Eh… No thanks. Even if I went back, then I would miss here, too. And everyone."

Anna smiled in satisfaction. This girl thought my 'I would miss everyone' included her. Oh, how cute. Welp, yeah, OK, I would miss her a bit. 'A very tiny minuscule amount of bit,' I tried to convince myself, but it was quite difficult, and I felt a pang in my heart even thinking about it. I was about to tell Anna so, because she would be happy to hear that from me, but she was already asleep. I called maids over, and they took her to her mom's tent.

###

Milo, a huntsman, was a local veteran hunter who knew the area and the wildlife within very well. For numerous occasions, he had acted as the en-situ party organizer for the Baron’s hunting trips. In essence, his job came down to making sure the hunt went as smoothly and safely as possible while still entertaining. Unfortunately, Milo had always found the job quite difficult. Not because he lacked the necessary skills and experience but because His Lordship tended to miss his marks by a mile.

As I implied, the Baron wasn’t particularly good with the bow. He wasn’t good with the sword, either, which was apparent even to my untrained eyes. In fact, His Lordship sucked in anything that involved strength, balance, dexterity, reflex, and hand-to-eye coordination. The fact that he did not fall off his horse… that alone was a miracle on its own.

Of course, this wasn’t much to huntsman Milo’s liking. As soon as the sun rose, he lined up target dummies in the open. Once things were prepared, he patiently waited, humming to himself and drumming fingers on the sides of his thighs, for the Baron to wake up. I sighed at the huntsman’s futile attempt. This wasn’t the first time Milo tried to fix the Baron’s bowmanship.

‘Welp, good luck with that,’ I silently wished him luck as I gathered up my fishing gears. I was so certain I would catch that fabled carp this day. But then again, I cautiously reminded myself that I had felt the same with every lottery ticket in my previous life. Nevertheless, this morning was going to be different because I would definitely bag that big fish-,

“Ah, I see the young Majordome is up early,” the chief maid’s voice startled me from behind. I turned around and greeted her with a big smile. She and the maids were coming out of their tents, getting ready to start another day. Some were redoing their hairs, and some put on pots on fires. Servants were getting ready, too, some going down to the lake with empty buckets, while others began to set up for breakfast.

It was nice. Out here, in this camp, Milo was the one running the show. Not I. I was thus back to being a boy. A rare occasion.

“Going fishing again?” the chief maid noted.

“Yes.”

She didn’t say anything further but towered over me, fixed my matted bed hair, and then lowered herself and studied my face. She spat on her fingers and wiped off something on my forehead, and then inspected my face again. Finally, she was satisfied and gave me a smile and a soft pat on my bottom.

“Off you go, then,” she said.

‘Right,’ I thought to myself and internally sighed, ‘come on, I am not a kid anymore!’

The morning mist was rather thick near the lake. I stepped on an unseen slippery pebble and unceremoniously fell into the lake. Fortunately, this was a shallow end, but I had lost my balance and was subsequently submerged for a few seconds. After much thrashing around, I finally got back on my feet and cursed my luck. The water wasn’t too cold at this time of the year, but still, I had no desire to wait for the chilly morning breeze to dry my clothes.

It was only a few dozen steps walk back to the camp from the lake. They had witnessed me slipping and falling into the lake. When I returned squelching and dripping, maids ran up to me with towels and fussed all over me. A couple of strong-handed motherly figures ushered me into my tent and helped me get changed. After making a joke or two about my cold-shrunk Jalapeno, they went to hang my wet clothes dry.

Much to my surprise, I heard the sound of a tiny bell approaching my tent. Anna was coming. It was unusual for her to be up so early in the morning. The excitement of the trip must have played a part in that regard such that the devil spawn woke up rather early. Soon enough, Anna poked her head in and grinned.

‘I want a bow, too,’ she said. Using her hands, of course.

“Oh, I thought you wanted to go fishing with me.”

The little girl first nodded and then shook her head.

‘Maybe later. But father is shooting arrows. I want a bow. Now.’

“Let us ask Milo.”

So I led Anna to where Milo had set up.

The Baron had, in the meantime, woken up and was chatting with his friends. They were getting ready to shoot at the target dummies as a warm-up for the hunt. For Milo, this little exercise not only let him see if His Lordship had improved since the last time but also allowed him to gauge what to expect from the Baron and then make the necessary arrangements as needed. Such arrangements usually involved positioning his fellow hunters a bit down the field so that they would still bag the games even if the Baron missed his shots.

“Have you a spare bow for the young Lady?” I asked the huntsman.

Milo quickly took off his feathered hat and politely greeted the Baron’s daughter. He looked, however, troubled.

“I have some spares, yes,” he pointed behind him.

We looked beyond the man and saw three sets of hunting bows and quivers propped up against a small stool. Milo continued.

“But I am afraid my bows aren’t really children’s toys.”

The Baron heard this. He came over, lifted and squeezed Anna before putting her back down.

“It should be alright,” His Lordship said to Milo, “Anna will be careful.”

The daughter in question nodded.

“Well…,” Milo scratched his head, “I suppose-”

Even before the huntsman could finish his sentence, Anna dashed past Milo and grabbed a bow and a quiver full of arrows. It was a short hunting bow but looked quite tall against Anna’s small frame. The quiver, its bottom touching the ground, came up to her waist. She did, however, tiptoed and managed to draw an arrow.

“Milady! Please wait!”

Milo pushed down Anna’s hand and rushed to the rows of targets. There he moved one closer, about ten yards from Anna. The little girl, in the meantime, had loaded an arrow and waited. By now, people had gathered. They were both curious and excited. I could feel the anticipation in the air.

Milo walked back, and as he walked, he was pleased to see Anna pointing the bow towards the ground, not at him.

“Now, milady, please allow me to show you-,”

The huntsman trailed off, amused. He bobbed up and down around Anna and inspected her posture.

“My! The young Lady holds it correctly. Even the arrow is placed right! Good stance, too.”

Anna briefly turned her face to give me a smug smile.

“Jehan had said the same thing,” I mentioned to no one in particular.

Now it was the time. Milo took a step back and gave Anna a nod. The child straightened her arm and held up the bow. She drew-,

She couldn’t draw. The draw weight was too much for her stick arms.

“Hrngh!”

Anna tried again with all her strength, her face turning red from the strain. She managed to draw maybe an inch or two. But that was it. She tried again.

“I am sorry, milady,” Milo approached Anna, “I should have foreseen this.”

“Now, now, Anna. Bows aren’t for little girls. Let us not be upset,” the Baron was saying.

“That’s right,” Milo nodded. “Next time, I will make sure to prepare something more manageable for the young Lady.”

Frustrated, Anna dropped the bow to the ground.

And to everyone’s surprise, Anna took a long single back step, wound her waist, and bent herself backward. At the end of her outstretched arm, in her hand, was the arrow that she had not managed to shoot. Shoot, no. Throw, yes. Her transition from the winding motion to the forward throw was so smooth it was almost artistic. In a fashion that would make an Olympic-level athlete proud, Anna hurled the arrow like a javelin. Before anyone could even let out a gasp, the projectile traveled the distance in a slight arc and buried its sharp head into the target dummy. Right in the middle. A bull’s eye.

Everyone cheered. I, too, cheered and clapped.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” somebody commented, and we all laughed. The sheer dumb luck that led the arrow to hit the bull’s eye was definitely the highlight of the day for everyone. It was something totally unexpected but satisfying nonetheless, given how everyone saw Anna struggle with the bow. A sense of relief, even, because we now felt the little child’s frustration would surely evaporate. I glanced and saw the Baron smiling, pleased and surprised by his girl’s little ‘luck.’

Smug, Anna turned around and gave me a thumb up. Milo was about to tell her something, but Anna drew another arrow from the quiver. Before the huntsman could intervene, she sent it flying again.

The arrow impacted and hammered its predecessor further into the target before falling to the ground. All cheers and clapping stopped. There was a dead silence. Well, not exactly. A maid dropped a wooden bowl or something, and it clanged and wobbled ‘whop whop whop’ on the ground. The bowl wasn’t the only thing that was dropped. Lots of jaws joined it. Mine included.

###

It was now about the midway to noon, and the hunt was well on its way. Milo had led everyone to a clearing, where they would be waiting for the creatures of the wood to break cover and dash out into the open.

I, though, was back to the lake. A kind villager brought his rowboat from the opposite shore and volunteered to take me to a good spot. The availability of a boat changed everything, and now suddenly, Anna was more interested in fishing than tagging along to her father’s hunt. She leaned over to the side of the boat and splashed the cool water as the generous villager rowed.

“Is the carp even real?”

I asked, eying the ripples propagating across the water surface.

“Who knows? I, for one, have never seen it,” answered the villager and stopped rowing. “This here should be good.”

Anna and I picked up our fishing rods and were about to-

“René!”

It was the Baroness. She was pacing back and forth on the shore as if deciding whether to step into the water or not.

“René!”

“On my way, milady!”

I shouted back and nodded to the disgruntled man. He sighed and was about to mutter some profanities but then, realizing Anna was with us, quickly shut his mouth tight. The child, though, was visibly unhappy about going back.

“René, I have just heard about this morning.”

The Baroness wasted no time. She grabbed me by the elbow as I stepped onto the shore and stood tall before me. Anna disembarked and stood by my side, listening, her arms crossed to display her displeasure.

“Thank you for your concern, but my Baroness, the water wasn’t that cold-,” I was saying, but then the Baroness seemed confused.

“What?”

“I slipped and fell into the-”

“My! You did? Are you alright?”

It was my turn to be confused.

“I am alright, but I gather that is not what Your Ladyship wished to discuss with me?”

“Ah, yes, right,” she cleared her throat and then quickly ran her eyes up and down on Anna.

The Baroness had heard about Anna’s impressive throwing skills. But her voice carried the tone of a concerned mother. Anna, not quite catching the tone, puffed her chest in satisfaction and beamed a smile.

“You hurled it in a moment of frustration, did you not?” the mother asked.

‘Yes!’ Anna answered with glee.

‘Bad!’ The Baroness spoke in our silent language. She repeated, ‘Bad!’

Anna’s face went blank.

‘It… never… was-, is,’ Her Ladyship fumbled with the gestures for a few seconds, then resorted to the tried and tested aural delivery. “Such outburst shall never be a way to release your anger.”

Now I got it. Yes, Anna did throw the arrow like a javelin. She was incredible, true, but then again, the act was her way of venting. After several failed attempts at drawing the bow, enraged, she violently hurled the arrow. Not at a person, thank God, but the very nature of the action itself was that of wild menace nonetheless. Whereas everyone else clapped and cheered at the impressive results of Anna’s tantrum, the Baroness instead saw the child’s outburst itself. I found it fascinating. Mother’s perception, maybe?

“Perhaps Your Ladyship would kindly suggest a few of suitable ways to vent one’s frustration?” I suggested, for which Anna glared at me.

“Certainly,” the Baroness beamed a smile. “Reading, for example, calms the turbulence in maiden’s mind.”

“Boys’, too, but, absolutely,” I agreed with a nod. Behind the Baroness, a maid started to go fetch a book from the Baroness’ tent. I secretly shook my head ever so slightly, and the woman stopped.

“Picking berries also comes to my mind,” said the Baroness. The maid gestured for her junior to bring a basket. I thought about it for a second and shook my head again. Just a tiny bit such that only the woman behind the Baroness would notice. She waved her colleague away.

“Indeed, milady. I have always found that simple labour dissipates wild sentiment.”

“True,” the mother La Rose nodded. “Dancing, too. Deliberate motions drain one’s attention from whatever the source of anger.”

Behind the Baroness, the maid raised an eyebrow and mimed playing the lute. I rejected the suggestion, our silent communication still unnoticed by the Baroness. Anna, standing beside me, sighed. It seemed she wouldn’t have minded a little dancing session. But, heck no. I had a fish to catch.

“Singing-,” I started, then thought about it, faced and bowed apologetically to Anna. The little mute girl grunted.

“Embroidery also does wonders,” the Baroness suggested.

Anna’s face went pale. The maid behind the Baroness was waiting for my input. ‘No,’ I signaled by twitching my lips.

“Absolutely!” I pretended to agree, “a tranquil experience that would quench any raging storm in a lady’s mind.”

Having said that, I studied the Baroness’ face. She was searching for more lady-like activities that would help release stress. I decided the timing was ripe.

“May I suggest fishing? Speaking from abundant personal experience, if I may, I find watching the gentle ripples of the water yet staying alert for the ever slight sensation of the timidest tug never fails to put my mind at ease and in focus.”

“You are absolutely right, René!” the Baroness nodded with satisfaction. Momentarily forgetting that young noble ladies generally did not fish, the Baroness donned a sweet smile and put a hand on Anna’s shoulder.

“Anna, perhaps you would like to go fishing?”

“Your mother is right, you know,” I said, adjusting my grip on the fishing rod, “you are a lady. A La Rose.” I glanced at the little girl sitting next to me. “You need to maintain decorum.”

Anna sighed but nodded. We went back to silently watching the ripples travel across the lake. We were back. Sitting in the tiny boat. Fishing, as suggested by none other than the Baroness.

After a while, Anna broke the tranquil silence. Well, not with spoken words, what with her being silent, but with the cute tinkling sound of the little bells on her wrist as she moved her hands.

‘I wouldn’t have minded dancing, though,’ gestured Anna, having tucked the fishing rod underneath her armpit as to free her hands.

I turned and confirmed the villager was asleep. He had rowed us back to the spot and, upon my suggestion, was taking a nap.

“Dancing is fun and all,” I said, my eyes back to scanning the sparkling surface of the lake, “but I am certain I would have been dragged into it.”

‘But we like dancing.’

“I do, indeed, but this carp is special-”

As if on cue, I felt a massive tug that nearly launched me off the boat.

“Sweet Jesus!” In my excitement, I exclaimed the name of an otherworldly deity. I leaned way back but struggled against the force that I had never experienced before.

Anna dropped her rod and jumped up. She rushed to behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. Huffing and puffing and grunting, her face buried in my back, Anna leaned back as hard as she could with what little weight she had.

The tiny boat was rocking like crazy, and the napping villager’s eyelids flew open.

“Wha-“

Before the adult man could be of any help, I lost it. It was too much for us kids. The strained fishing rod first jerked and then catapulted out of my hands. Having lost the counterweight, Anna and I stumbled backward and tumbled off the boat into the lake.

Frustrated, mad, enraged, I floated there steaming red and watched my fishing rod disappear underneath the surface. Anna, in the meantime, climbed back into the boat and blew the water out of her nose and then, seeing my face, burst out laughing.

“Why, you little-“ I slammed my fist on the surface, which splashed the chill lake water onto my face, which in turn made Anna laugh even more hysterically. And then she suddenly forced herself to a stop. With eyes bulging and cheeks inflated from suppressing the laughter, Anna managed to calmly move her hands, miming as if doing particularly delicate embroidery work.

###

After the unfortunate incident, I gave up on the carp. I spent the rest of the trip catching and cataloging insects. Anna, on the other hand, tagged along with her father to the hunt and bugged him non-stop. It was evident to me that her frustration grew by hours. Apparently, as the servants told me, she stood by her father’s side, thumbs twiddling and muscles itching but with no bow that would listen to her command. The Baron not landing a single shot on games made things much worse for her to bear. Anna did, however, handled it well, as the Baroness had asked her to do, and maintained her composure like a little lady she was. She later went around and picked some basketful of berries. They weren’t very good, though, what with the time of the year being early summer and such.

Anna had always been petty and remembered even the tiniest little stuff that annoyed her. Such as, in this instance, not having a usable bow.

‘Les us make a bow,’ Anna said upon our return to the manor.

“Let US make a bow?”

I asked her, somewhat surprised. She nodded.

We had returned from the hunting trip in a good mood, although the Baron had not really caught anything. I was in the middle of unpacking my things. I had stopped briefly to think of what to do with my recently acquired boxful of dead insects when Anna barged in.

‘Let us make a bow,’ she demanded.

“We could always buy one,” I said.

‘No,’ Anna shook her head, ‘it needs to be a divine creation.’

And wouldn’t you know it; we made one. It took us weeks of hard work, but we did it. From scratch. Welp, actually, I did most of the work. Anna, though, knew what needed to be done and guided me every step.

We first got hold of some strips of woods. We then steamed them before gluing them in layers to make a laminated solid block, which then was carefully sanded and gruelingly bent into the shape. Here, Anna wasn’t particularly picky about the correct weight distribution nor bend angles.

‘It will be mine, so won’t matter,’ she said, much to my puzzlement.

Next came yet another furious sanding and grinding and then curing with heat. Once nocks were cut and sanded in place, we sat down and twisted long linen strands to make the bowstring. Anna herself attached the string onto the nocks, which, in hindsight, should have greatly surprised me given the strength required to do so.

We had initially planned to make the arrows as well, but at this point, Anna got so sick and tired of the manual work she decided arrows made by mortals would be fine. I secretly thanked God that she chose not to make the arrows ourselves.

‘I made this!’

Anna was beaming with glee. I had just finished wrapping a leather sheet in the middle. She jumped up and down and skipped around me as I held the finished bow as if it was a royal puppy.

“I made it, Anna. You just nagged me from the side,” I corrected her.

She pouted and stuck her tongue out in a rather not so lady-like fashion. She then returned to marveling at HER creation. It was a tiny bit large for her petite body, but she said she would eventually grow, so it would be OK. The draw weight, though, was, to my surprise, impossible for me to handle. I tried numerous times to draw but failed miserably. I handed it over to Anna.

“This is too stiff. How the hell did you even-“ I was saying, but then my eyes bulged.

Anna drew the bow so effortlessly and graciously it was majestic. She beamed another smile and handed it back to me.

‘You understand now? It is divine.’

###

The bow was made by Firis herself and her herald. Thus, naturally, it was for Firis’ use. And it was a godly weapon capable of manifesting Anna’s supernatural will into this realm of mortals.

“Impossible!” men exclaimed in disbelief at the sight of two harpies falling from the sky. The arrow had shot up like a blitz, cleanly penetrated a harpy’s shoulder, and then further went on to down another one some fifty-yard beyond. Welp, the second harpy was just unlucky, for Anna later confessed she hadn’t really meant to kill two birds with one arrow. Nevertheless, what she had just done was a near-impossible feat that was a borderline miracle.

“You said we were going hunting!”

Jehan screamed, horrified at the sight of the two harpies dropping like rocks. He had led us to the rocky top, thinking nothing much of Anna’s peculiar demand.

“We are,” I calmly informed the lad.

I, personally, had long ago forgiven the white-feathered harpy. Sure, she had demanded I hand over Anna in exchange for her help. Yes, it was outrageous, but on the other hand, she was just a beast. What else would one expect from a hungry creature?

What pissed me off, though, was the harpy’s audacity to refuse my demand made in His Lordship’s name. That was absolutely unacceptable.

“Remember the incident with the wolves?”

I asked Jehan. He nodded, somewhat confused.

“There was a harpy,” I went on, “I asked for her help,” I shook my head and continued. “She rejected. Rejected a demand made in His Lordship’s name and in my capacity as a Baron’s Councilman.”

“Is that what this is about?” Jehan was shaken.

“Well, she also wanted to eat young Lady Anna,” I shrugged, my thumb pointing at Anna, “so milady took it rather personally.”

Jehan glanced at smug-looking Anna. She was satisfied with her shot.

“I myself wish to set things straight,” I told Jehan, “if the harpies wish to continue to inhabit the mountains of the Roseland, they shall kneel before the La Rose’s banner.”

That was also exactly what I had told the Baron and the Baroness. I recalled the conversation. It was right after Anna had demonstrated her impressive marksmanship to her parents.

Initially, they were not very convinced, but when I told them the harpy’s insubordination, His Lordship became furious.

“The very fact that a resident of the Roseland refused to help the Baron’s daughter offends me greatly,” was what I further told the Baron. “Things must be set straight.”

And voila, it was settled. The Baroness wasn’t pleased with Anna tagging along, but she could not overwrite the decision made by the ruler of this land. The Baron, on the other hand, was proud that his daughter took it upon herself to enforce her father’s authority.

“Make yourself known, my child,” he said.

Anna was thus entrusted in my hands, away from her parents for the first time. And she was a raging thunderstorm about to engulf the clueless harpies’ nest.

“Have you gone mad!”

A harpy was screaming down from the cold gray sky. A brown one. A bit like an eagle, but with a human face. Her kins quickly spread out, putting some distance between each other as to present smaller targets for our arrows.

They had seen us coming. The harpies had, from afar, spotted us walking up the rocky slope. Alerted, a small group of them had flown out to screen us from above. To see where we were going and what we were up to. Each was armed with a sizable rock in each hand, which made me flinch. I wondered how good they were at throwing stuff downwards.

That was when Anna greeted them with an arrow that killed two birds. The wildest knock on the door one could ever imagine.

Anna nudged me in the rips, having patiently waited for me to be done talking to Jehan. She was telling me to step up. To be her voice.

“Hear ye winged creatures of the mountains!” I shouted up, “you will heed the Roseborn’s demand!”

“Rose-what?”

The brown harpy fell like a rock as Anna’s arrow pierced her neck. The others shrieked and fled. Towards their nest.

###

“Next!”

I shouted. Another grounded harpy was dragged out before the Roseland’s child as the rest of the flock watched and wailed from the sky. Anna didn’t even flinch at the gruesome sight of wings being severed, but I felt sick. Nevertheless, there was a job to do. I looked up and shouted.

“The head! It is quite simple. Bring the white one’s head, and this ends now!”

“Majordome,” a huntsman interrupted me. He had found something while we busied ourselves hacking and torturing captive harpies. Leaving others to go on, Anna and I followed the man’s lead. We reached a particularly large nest, and the man pointed inside for us to have a look. We tiptoed and craned our necks and pored over.

There were eggs. Four of them. Each, about the size of a basketball.

“No!”

A harpy screamed from above. Her kins were holding her back, stopping the desperate mother from hurrying down to her nest.

Anna climbed onto the nest and looked up. She then turned to face me and gave me a nod.

“The white one! Her head!”

I dutifully shouted up. I kept my face strong, but inside, I, too, was begging. Come on, you fools! Don’t make her do it!

Without even waiting for their response, Anna kicked an egg with all her might. A collective gasp filled the chilly mountain air.

“Milady, no!”

I heard Jehan screaming.

Nothing happened. Thank God Anna was a mere child! She couldn’t break the hard shell.

But the idea was out in the open now. It was clear and obvious. The Roseborn won’t hesitate to cross that line. I could sense it. The harpies were wavering.

Anna was about to kick again, but a magnificent crane swooshed down from the sky and landed in front of her. Welp, not exactly a crane. The neck was too short, and the face was a beautiful woman. There was an aura of elegance that reminded me of the Baroness. It was the queen.

“Enough!” the harpy said in a tired voice. She eyed Anna a bit, then lowered her head in defeat.

“Whom has my flock wronged so as to face such magnitude of wrath?”

Anna gestured me over onto the nest. She helped me climb up.

“Lady Anna La Rose,” I announced, “the Roseborn, the child born of the fragrant roses. The heiress to the Roseland. The Baron’s precious daughter.”

“I see…,” the queen bowed, “I am the mother of the Grayrocks of the mountains. I am the queen of the harpies of the east. Please, enlighten me; what have we done unto the Lady?”

I think I have already mentioned what happened afterward. How the queen of the harpies knelt before the Roseland’s child. I won’t go into that.

Anna and I stayed about a fortnight or so up on the mountains. Chilling and frolicking and so on. It was a time well spent because I had long talks with the harpies; about the future of our coexistence and such. To be honest, it wasn’t like they popped up only just now. The harpies had been there for decades and had been living in a sort of ‘you leave us alone, we leave you alone’ way. But no more. Having bowed to Anna, the harpies were now legit Roselandeurs. We needed to work out a way to incorporate them into the Barony.

Jehan, in the meantime, had sent a message to the Baron without telling me. Upon our return, Anna and I discovered the worried hunter-ranger had informed His Lordship, in great detail, about Anna’s horrendous deed.

“This!” the Baron shook the message scroll in the air. He was yelling at me. “This is not a show of force! Nor is it something that would be regarded as ‘giving a stern talking to!’”

I didn’t say anything. I was a bit stunned. It was the first time the Baron raised his voice on me. The Baroness was fuming, too, but she managed to hide it somewhat.

“How and from where has Anna learned such cruelty!”

I stood there in silence, shaking, not knowing what to say. I had expected praises and head pats for subjugating the winged creatures. Not this.

Anna stepped up and stood before me, hiding me behind her small frame. She didn’t need to say it out aloud-, welp, she couldn’t, but you know what I mean. The meaning behind the mute girl’s gesture was clear, though.

And I saw her parents’ eyes shaking for a fraction of a second. For the first time, something struck them. For only a brief moment, yes, but something so overwhelming.

The Baron and his wife cleared throats and quickly regained their composure.

‘They defied me,’ said Anna.

“But Anna, harpies are creatures of the sky,” the Baroness read the sign language and pleaded, “of course they do not listen to us.”

“Absolutely,” the Baron agreed, “but Anna, my dear, and René. Please. There was no need to… go that far.”

Anna’s parents had calmed down by now. The Baron rolled the scroll and put it onto his desk. For a minute or so, he looked at Anna pleadingly without words. But there lingered a sense of alarm in the air. What is this child?