Cw - mentions of genocide and death
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He was the last of the Firebird Masters, a species wiped out in the last great war between the realms. Atesh longed for those days to return, regretting that he had run away from the war, only to see his brothers and sisters brutally murdered. Both the realms had turned on them; it was the sole thing the two kings, Oberon and Ayrion, had agreed on.
The Firebird Masters have to die, they said. No one should hold so much power.
In their arrogance, the Masters had thought no human could ever kill them. They had been wrong.
Atesh stared into his partner's red eyes, drawing his hands on its sleek orange beak. Like him, Nuri missed its dead brothers, Atesh ground his teeth and glared at the firebird before him, wondering if their pain would ever end.
"Not my fault," Nuri said.
"We should have been there."
You're the one who wanted to stay back. Told me the war was pointless and served no purpose but to enrich those who were already rich and impoverish those who were already so poor a slice of bread would feed them for a week."
Nuri was right, of course, but Atesh's regrets weighed too hard on his soul to be able to ignore them anymore. They had been hiding in the mountains for years, scavenging on what little food they could find, waiting for…Atesh had no idea what he had been waiting for and why he was still waiting. Nothing was going to happen while he dawdled.
If he wanted something to happen, he should have made it happen.
Nuri puffed a circle of smoke at his head, then bumped Atesh with a wing. "Scratch me underneath my right wing, please. I think I have a tick again".
Atesh loved Nuri with all his heart, but they had been cooped up in there for too long and a firebird that did not fly was nothing less than a chicken.
"Let's go."
He stood up, and walked out of the cave, inhaling deeply. The sun sent spears of light to the snow-covered mountain caps; Nuri was bound to stand out no matter where they went and Atesh couldn't be sure no dwarf would spot them. After the war, some of the mountain-dwellers had emerged and began populating the sides of the mountains, creating a much-needed source of communication with those still mining inside.
If Atesh and Nuri were to be spotted, Oberon's great-great-grandson would be alerted, and he was no fool like his father had been. He would shoot them down without a second thought.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Nuri's warm breath ruffled Atesh's ashen hair. "This is a sure way to die."
"At least we will be reunited with our brethren."
Nuri unfurled its wings and waited until Atesh was seated comfortably on its back. Ready? It had been a long time since they had ridden together, but Atesh's heart pounded in his chest with newfound excitement.
This is what he was meant to do. He was a Firebird Master. To hell with any consequences. What was the worst that could happen? He could die, sure. But he had nothing more to live for. Sensing his rather grim thoughts, Nuri wasted no more time and ran to the mountain's cliff, diving off of it. A rush of adrenaline slapped Atesh in the guts and he clang to the bird's plumage, ramming his head inside its soft body to protect himself from the icy winds. A Firebird Master could withhold just about any weather, but the ice gathering on his clothes was already sapping away his powers, originating in the deepest bowels of the volcanoes.
Ice was his biggest enemy.
When Nuri had descended enough for the winds to relent their shrieking, Atesh allowed himself to look over its head and laugh – they were still so high in the air he could look upon the whole realm. Not even Oberon's great-great-grandson, Ilarion, had such a view from atop his gilded throne. The mountains covered most of the landscape, but little by little the luxurious grass of the steppe broke the sleek surface of the snow and made its presence known, persuading all manners of critters to run around or fly atop the hunchbacked trees. Atesh smiled at the birds below him, wondering what they thought of Nuri and whether they were afraid or not. They didn't seem to be disturbed at all; one of them, a raven almost as long as Atesh's forearm, even approached, eyeing the much larger predator with wariness.
"Pretty," Nuri puffed and released a plume of fire to scare it off.
The raven cawed its displeasure, then glided back to its brethren, probably to warn them.
"They are your cousins, you know".
"Cousins? Ha. Don't make me drop you".
Atesh massaged Nuri's shoulders, feeling the strain inside. Despite Nuri's flamboyance, the firebird wasn't as young as it used to be and so many years of inactivity had taken their toll on it – its muscles were not as strong and its claws had gone from a shiny black to a dull gray, barely able to scratch anything but the stone inside the cave they had lived in.
"Uh-oh."
"What?"
"Smoke."
Nuri was right – Atesh glanced back to see a grey snake coiling to the skies; it had to be as thick as half a forest if it was so visible even from such distance. This was no ordinary smoke. Their presence had been spotted by dwarves who were now cranking up their furnaces and feeding their dragons to produce a cloud so massive it would soon block out the sun.
The realms would soon know Atesh and Nuri – the last firebird and its Master – had finally emerged out of hiding. And they would be hunted to the ends of the world, provided they managed to escape the hunters sent their way. Even a firebird couldn't withstand a dozen angry Wyverns.