They felt more than a little awkward, clinging to one another, as the bird watched. So, as Xantheaa regained her strength, the two untangled themselves from each other. He slowly rose to his feet and glared at the bickering powers that be.
Xantheaa slowly rose beside him, looking like a golem with the massive amount of sand which persisted to cling onto every vane and barbule in her full-body plumage. Her expression was impassive, and worn. She now knew to respect the creatures who have their home advantage.
Suddenly, Thrall's flighty nature made a lot more sense. There was no such thing as mercy for those who stepped out of line, here... and it seemed like most places were likely to be much the same. A chill ran over her body as she struggled to imagine what horrors awaited her should they continue to diminish other people's way of life.
"Are you alright?" Thrall asked, continuing to lock his eyes on the fearsome beasts who did this to her. He trusted she could fend for herself, now that the Sphinxes could no longer touch them with their great magic.
"I will be fine." She huffed, shaking her head to send a cloud of dust into the air around her. Oh, they made a serious mistake by mussing up her plumage. She held her rage, however, knowing that the unthinkable fate was only just barely escaped through great sacrifice, and what was effectively a loophole.
The left Sphinx pounded down the grains with her paws, and aloud proclaimed in agony, confusion, and shame. It troubled them to be outfoxed.
"You three did not deserve to pass!
The riddle should have won! Alas,
for some reason that answer has
sufficed. How was this case flummoxed?!"
"Because," Thrall answered, in full view of God, and guide, and guard alike. "I have earned a new name, since the time that we last met. As Xantheaa and I are now of one body, now we share the same name! The fact that you cannot touch her is proof of this conviction."
She gasped, and flushed in shock and awe. It was obvious now, what had happened. In the time since Thrall had made that blood pact with her in the wasted remains of his mindscape, his affection toward her had hardened into something even greater than friendship.
This was a love that even harpies do not have a word for. It was the source of passion that she craved, unspoken, for all this time; and here was proof that it was objectively returned!
The name would not have meant anything to the sphinxes if it had not been his true name, and it could not have been his true name if he did not wholly accept it—or more incredibly, if he had not accepted her!
"Agh!" The great maned beast recoiled, her face finally matching the emotion on display. The incredible shame was etched into her pockmarked, wrinkled face. Her shadows hung low and carved deep trenches of wrinkled pain into her skin.
It almost seemed like a tragic mask with how extreme its expression appeared. She bowed her head in capitulation as he continued. "You made the fatal mistake of underestimating my ability to grow beyond pain, and her ability to care for me despite it. Now, all of creation will know that as surely as an angel can fall into a daemon, so too can daemons rise to humanity."
Xantheaa's heartbeat rushed inside her chest, again, and she felt so overcome with wonder that she nearly collapsed once more to the ground beneath. She instead stepped forward brazenly, to stand beside him.
"That is correct. I made a vow on holy land that we would be as a single person for all time. If you expected to turn him into your slave, then you are much too late. He already completely belongs to me, and I will not let anyone else have him!"
"What in the name of Nephthys are you two even talking about?!" 'Aswad remarked, taking to the skies. "No one was about to get enslaved. I already told you that we don't have time for this nonsense. Look!"
He tried to gesture with his beak toward the receding orange flame of their jackal companion in the far distance. He was nearly an entire mile away, while they were standing there, talking.
"Come on!" He yelled, shooting after it.
"Damn," Thrall snapped his fingers, and took to the air behind his feathery friend. "I'd hate to cut and run, but... actually, I don't."
Xantheaa flew into the air, and teased the two creatures who had proven themselves terrible hosts on the ground beneath her, by touching the middle digit of her right talon to the hallux of that same foot, to make a circle. She laughed as the younger sister recognized the gesture.
"Damn you, and daughter of Typhon!
We will not forgive what you've done!
You have made a fool of this one,
and for fooling us you'll pay!"
"Calm yourself, and let the pests run.
They have earned their passage, bar none,
and now we can rest again, until we meet again, someday."
"What did they say?" Thrall called back, as she flapped hard to catch up to them. The look on her face was haunting, to say the least. "I couldn't hear them over the rushing wind as I blew past their stupid borders."
She stared almost right through him as she trailed behind. It was hard to tell that she even noticed he had spoken at all.
"...Xantheaa?"
"Huh?—What?"
"Are you sure you're alright? You seem a little bit rattled."
"No! No, I am fine. I am actually in a really good mood, believe it or not! It is just, something they said really stuck with me, honestly."
"Aha, don't worry about them they're just sour because we woke them up for nothing. They're only ever concerned with filling their stomachs. I bet they'll have forgotten all about you within a week."
"No, that is not it! Heeheeheehee! Do not worry, for I have little care about their threats. I just was thinking, they called me 'daughter of Typhon...' not Elektra. They have not been wrong before, so I just think—" and her voice trailed off again, as her reasoning became clear.
"Ah, I see..." Thrall replied. "I didn't want to be the one to break it to you, but... honestly, you deserve to know. Yes, Electra isn't the creator of the harpiyai race. She couldn't have been. Sorry, to say this but in my understanding she isn't even a goddess. If I recall correctly, Electra is simply a nymph. I'm sorry."
She swallowed a lump in her throat, and powered on, blinking tears out of her eyes. Damn, dammit, and damn it all. Was there anything of her faith that wasn't a lie?! Was there any part of her left?
But she powered through it with eyes clouded and hazy with liquid grief, because she knew that she could see the form of something just ahead, that she could hold onto. At least she had him. Despite everything, she still had him.
She could trust in Kurozel. He would lay down his life for her, and that was enough, for the moment. She flapped harder, shaking a thin trail of tan dust behind her in her wake, until she caught up to his side—flying wingtip to wingtip. They were about to catch up to the fleeing shape of the jackal, now.
He looked over to her, comfortingly—to express his empathy for her latest revelations—but was surprised, when she grinned so brightly back. "It is okay," she assured him. "I no longer aspire to go to Olympus, alone. Heaven would be hell without you there, too."