Chapter 9: Slave
Briar couldn't breathe. The mountains were in clear view. The raven – now a great black griffin – rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his wings around her shivering body. Thunder crackled, and the first snow began falling. The quiet busyness of Bahelin Forge made it a deceptive beacon in the valley. She saw the outpost in the distance aglow with military torches.
She knew they were the Magistrate's men, because only their fire burned that color. Instead of emanating the natural spectrum of red to orange, their fire was a nasty shade of green. It wasn't the celestial green of her raven's stardust tendrils. It was the smear of a slug's insides smashed against a rock.
The powder that created it was the color of sand and had a pungently sweet smell. It was a scent imprinted on Briar's mind, distinct as she remembered the militia sprinkling it around her home, on the windowsills and the floorboards before creating the single spark that set it ablaze. It was like rotting fruit and tobacco – something with hints of saccharine, but not enough to cover up the death smell.
She remembered watching the fire grow as it followed the powdery trail, crawling out from underneath the bed and running for the back door barely ahead of it. She tumbled onto the grass just before the flames consumed it. Briar crawled away from the building, the heat still singeing her at fifty yards. The militia already had most of their backs turned, watching from the other side as the wind whipped the smoke to the back of the house.
The chemicals that created these flames kept them hellishly hot and vibrant. It took nearly an hour of gasping steps – ranging from trotting to crawling – for Briar to fully escape the smoke. She twisted through the marsh until dawn, when she realized the smell was inescapable from every direction. She climbed a foothill and turned her head toward town.
Pillars of green smoke rose over the horizon, the pink of the sunrise mixing with the chemical aura. The pillars joined in the sky to form a gaseous monster that indicated the destruction of everything Briar cherished on her lands and beyond. She listened to the wind, her ears suddenly awake to the screams of women, children and even animals.
Briar shivered, and her griffin sensed it wasn't from the snow. He locked his wings around her and lowered his beak into the circle – now the size of her head, which it rested on top of – and created warmth with his breath. The raven held back his fire, giving her bursts of heat that had a natural, beastly smell. She reached up and stroked his head, looking into his eyes scratching the feathers beneath them.
"Are you coming with me to the mountains, old friend?" She asked, stroking him. The creature closed his eyes. He left the bundle of warmth and turned his neck, attempting to hide from her gaze. As soon as she asked the question, she realized he was too large to go any further. His size and form would make it impossible for him to pass the guards unnoticed.
"Come now..." she weakly reassured, "You've taken good care of me, I'm sure you and I could make it together...maybe if you fly quietly..."
But, it was no use. Her majestic creature was not meant for their eyes. While she saw beauty and spectacle, the city would only see spectacle. They might even see a monster. He moved away from her. His massive wings created a wind as he pulled the feathers back into his sides. He was big enough now for her to sit on his back, she realized. Perhaps this was their solution.
"Can you still fly?" She asked.
It was true, he hadn't flown in several days. Maybe his size was becoming too much for his wings to bear, Briar thought, or perhaps it was the very opposite. Maybe he was walking so that he could keep up with her slower pace.
"Bruu..." the bird cooed, puffing his chest in the affirmative. He moved toward her, head still low.
She studied him, feeling an inner voice say in distressed tones, Yes, but...
"Will you fly me over the forge?"
"BRUU!" The bird snapped back, turning his head. A clear no.
Briar became annoyed. She looked at the bird and turned her usually placid look into an agitated snarl. Her cheeks turned as coppery as her hair, distinguishing her from her surroundings as a rose against snow.
"You can't, or you won't?" Briar exclaimed. "I know you can, bird! I can read you better than that. I don't know why or how – but I know what you mean to tell me. Why won't you?"
The bird pulled further back. He cooed a mournful song. She heard the voice as clearly as she heard her own. You don't understand.
"What don't I understand?" Briar shouted, now in tears. "I can't stay in this forest forever – I need your help to find Cal. I need to find him so that we can all just go..."
She stopped short of the word home. She knew it wasn't attainable anymore. But, there was still a fragment of hope that with Cal, maybe they could start over again...but then what? Where? Why had she been kept alive just so that she could live in this forsaken world, where chemicals devoured towns and fireballs rained down on the countryside? What was she owed that God or nature would decide to spare and provide for her in the wilderness?
"Why did you choose me?" She asked the raven. "Why not the others that ran? What have I done that brought on your devotion?"
Briar had an epiphany. The moment she became aware, she felt a great power in her. It was a supernatural surge of energy, filled with light and darkness. She felt the ability to control armies with a single breath. At the same time, dark premonitions came forth. Briar understood her power, but felt a sense of dread. The raven sensed her awakening and bowed before her somberly. She heard the inner voice whisper again.
I am your slave, forever in your debt.
"You're sworn to me," Briar announced in commanding prose. "You're my protector, but I am your mistress. We're at the edge of the wood and I must leave it. You will do more now than find berries and places to hide, because I refuse to hide. Fly me out of this forest, or I will leave without you."
The bird raised his head, eyeing her with defiant intensity. His glare was so intense and monstrous that she felt suddenly that she might have miscalculated her place. She expected him to snap at her that minute and overwhelm her with razor claws and brute strength. His breath was hot and his feathers puffed. His eyes flashed sliver, the look on his face reminiscent of the man who spat at her from the ground so long ago. She felt a wave of boldness and calm.
The mouse commanded the lion.
"You won't hurt me," she glared. "You wouldn't dare it. I command you to fly me over the forge."
The beast fell to the ground, the voice whispering the words: very well. She believed she could it in her mind again, this time quieter, lamenting in words she'd heard once before. I will follow you, even if it is the death of me.
He ran at Briar and swooped her onto his back. She clung to the feathers as he moved his wings, leaping into the air, gaining speed and height at steady intervals. After a few moments, his wings were spread full, creating a wind that disrupted the snowfall. The ice and wind bitterly kissed her arms and face. The raven flew with thunderous power, with less care than she'd expected. She sensed his spirit in unison with his flight as full of dread and anger. But, they were flying.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone