The claws were inches away from my throat, but I kept my cool. You'd think having razor-sharp talons aimed at your jugular would be cause for panic, but when you've been trained by a Primordial Devourer, you learn to keep your head in tight spots.
My hunger rose, a familiar warmth spreading through my body like I'd just chugged a gallon of hot chocolate. I fell backwards, letting Karl's hand pass above me with a whoosh of air that ruffled my hair.
Orange-hair (whose name I later learned was Harry) came crashing down with his sword, slamming the blade against the snowy ground, something which most likely wasn't very good for the blade.
But I was ready. I sent a glowing orb at him, as bright as a miniature sun. It exploded in his face, blinding him momentarily. His expression of shock would've been comical if he wasn't, you know, trying to kill me.
I rolled away, the forest floor and snow crunching beneath me.
With a flap of my wings that sent nearby foliage swirling like a leafy tornado, I lunged forward with my spear. If these guys weren't going to let me go, I wasn't going to play nice.
My weapon closed the distance to the disoriented Harry, but Karl, apparently deciding he hadn't had enough fun yet, dashed at me again.
He grabbed my spear with his talons, stopping me in my tracks. The clash of metal on whatever-his-claws-were-made-of sent sparks flying.
I smiled wryly, probably looking like a maniac with leaves in my hair and determination in my eyes. Summoning my power, I created dozens of balls of light around us. They hovered in the air like fireflies on steroids.
"Hope you boys brought sunglasses," I quipped, before closing my eyes and making them all explode.
The forest lit up brighter than it probably ever had. When I opened my eyes, Harry was doing, clawing at his eyes and stumbling around. His sword clattered to the ground, probably feeling neglected.
Karl, though blinded, flared his nostrils like an angry bull. He dashed at me once more, apparently deciding that if he couldn't see me, he'd smell me out instead. I raised my spear to block, the impact jarring my arms. It felt like I'd just tried to stop a freight train with a toothpick.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that," I grunted, pushing back against his strength. My arms trembled with the effort, but I held my ground, thanks full consumption.
Karl snarled, his pink eyes unfocused but burning with determination. If he was an adaptive type like I suspected, he probably didn't need his eyes anyway. He was probably navigating by scent and echolocation for all I knew.
Deciding to change tactics, I let my wing strike out. It caught him square in the chest, sending him stumbling back like he'd just been hit by an oversized feather duster.
Harry, having apparently found his sword (and his senses), charged at me again. His blade became a blur of motion, whistling through the air as he tried to turn me into Felice paste.
I parried his strikes, my spear moving with practiced ease. Years of training with Grandfather hadn't been for nothing. Each clash of our weapons sent vibrations up my arms, but I held firm.
As Harry lunged forward again, I sidestepped cleanly. The butt of my spear met his jaw with a satisfying crack. He went flying across the forest, crashing through an oak tree that had the misfortune of being in his path. The tree splintered and fell, probably wondering what it had done to deserve such treatment.
But there was no rest for the wicked (or the winged, in my case). Karl was on me again, moving so fast he was almost a blur. I circled around him, my wings giving me enough speed to do so. As he overextended, I saw my opening. My spear found its mark in his shoulder, eliciting a guttural scream, primal scream.
Before I could capitalize on my advantage and knock him out, something hit me with the force of a wrecking ball. The world spun as I went flying, tumbling through the air like a very confused and slightly bruised acrobat. I flapped my wings frantically, trying to regain control. After what felt like an eternity (but was probably only a few seconds), I managed to land somewhat gracefully on the snow-covered ground.
"Damn, did that ducking hurt," I muttered, touching my jaw gingerly. It felt like someone had tried to remove it with a sledgehammer. I looked up to see the culprit - Harry, sporting a new accessory. Where his right arm used to be, there was now a furry, bulging monstrosity that looked like it belonged to a gorilla type beast.
"No one, no one, knocks me out, you specter," Harry growled, his voice a mix of pain and rage.
Karl rose to his feet, the wound where I'd stabbed him already closing. Damn adaptive types and their self-healing. It was completely unfair.
"Ready, Harry?" Karl asked, his voice calm despite the fact that he'd just had a spear through his shoulder.
"Yeah, let's teach this beast a lesson," Harry replied, flexing his monstrous arm.
Before I could come up with a witty retort (I had a great one about arm wrestling, I swear), they both dashed at me. Harry's monster arm swung towards my head like a furry wrecking ball, while Karl's talons aimed for my gut.
Time seemed to slow down. I could see as they made their ways towards me. In that moment, I made a decision that would've made even my grandpa proud.
I jumped between them, folding my wings tight against my body. I passed through the gap between their attacks (too close for comfort in my opinion), feeling the whoosh of air as they missed their marks by mere inches. As soon as I was clear, I unfurled my wings with a snap.
The resulting gust of wind sent Karl face-first into the snow and Harry spinning through the air like a very angry top.
Not wanting to lose my advantage, I summoned another barrage of light orbs, sending them directly into their faces. The resulting explosion sent their eyes buzzing, the overload of light probably frying their brains for a few short moments.
I flapped my wings again, positioning myself in front of Karl. His nostrils flared as he tried to pinpoint my location. He shot up his talon-filled hand, but I was ready. I moved my head to the side, feeling the wind from his claws as they missed me completely.
Seizing the opportunity, I spun my spear and brought the butt down on his face. Again. And again. His fingers finally stopped twitching, and I allowed myself a moment of satisfaction.
That moment was short-lived as I felt my hair stand on end. Some sixth sense (or maybe just good old-fashioned survival instinct) made me backdash just as Harry's monstrous fist came crashing down. The ground where I'd been standing a second ago cratered, leaving a ten meter long hole, sending the snow flying away.
I stumbled backward, my balance thrown off by the sudden terrain change. Harry, apparently deciding that subtlety was overrated, came at me with another haymaker. His giant fist filled my vision, I realized I didn't have time to dodge.
In a desperate move, I closed my wings in front of me like a feathery shield. I braced my spear against them, hoping against hope that it would be enough.
The impact, when it came, was like being hit by a freight train made of pain. I went flying again, my wings snapping back into my body from the sheer force of the blow. Trees whizzed past me in a blur of green and brown, each one thankfully missing me by inches. Finally, I crash-landed in a snowbank, skidding to a stop in a spray of white.
I lay there for a moment, every part of my body screaming in protest. The taste of blood filled my mouth, metallic and warm. I gathered it and spat it out, staining the pristine snow a vivid red.
"Ducking hell, that hurt like a mothertrucker," I groaned, using my best PG-13 swear words. Grandfather would be so proud, or not he didn't like when I spoke like this either.
I looked up to see Harry helping Karl to his feet. They probably thought I was down for the count. Harry's eyes were scattered, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks. The light bombs had done their job - he could barely see.
I coughed out more blood as silently as possible, which is harder than you'd think. Then, summoning every ounce of strength I had left, I raised my spear. My arm trembled as I pulled it back, aiming carefully.
With a grunt of effort, I threw it.
The spear flew through the air like a javelin. Harry, hearing the whistle of its passage, whipped his head around. But he was too slow. The spear found its mark, burying itself in his gut and sending him flying backward. His grip on Karl faltered as he went airborne, crashing into a tree with enough force to shake little leaves it had left from its branches.
Not wanting to waste my advantage, I forced myself to my feet and stumbled towards Harry. He was slumped against the tree, my spear still protruding from his midsection. Blood pooled around the wound, staining the snow crimson.
I raised my fist, channeling every ounce of frustration, pain, and hunger into one final blow. My fist connected with his jaw, and the tree behind him splintered from the impact. His eyes rolled back, and he finally, blessedly, lost consciousness.
With both of my attackers out cold, I allowed myself a moment to catch my breath. The forest was eerily quiet now, the only sound my ragged breathing and the occasional groan from my fallen foes.
I turned back to Harry, eyeing my spear still embedded in his stomach. "Great," I muttered, "now I don't have a weapon."
With a sigh that was equal parts exhaustion and exasperation, I set about the task of moving my would-be killers. I dragged them to the truck, unceremoniously stuffing them into the backseat. The truck was oddly filled with blue plants I'd seen in other parts of the mountain range. I made a mental note to investigate that later, after I'd dealt with more pressing matters - like my dislocated jaw.
I caught sight of myself in the truck's side mirror and winced. My face was a mess of blood and bruises, my jaw hanging at an angle that was definitely not natural. Taking a deep breath, I gripped my jaw firmly.
"This is gonna suck," I muttered, then jerked my hand sharply.
CRACK!
The sound of my jaw popping back into place was nauseating, the pain intense but mercifully brief. I worked my jaw back and forth, making sure everything was where it should be.
As a final precaution, I summoned a few more balls of light, positioning them around the two unconscious boys in the backseat. If they woke up, they'd be in for a bright surprise.
I looked at my reflection once more, taking in my bloodied face and disheveled appearance. Despite everything, I couldn't help but crack a smile.
"Well, Felice," I said to my reflection, "at least you got a ride."
And with that, I climbed into the driver's seat, ready to continue my journey to Acheron. Which was turning out to be, worse than I expected.