Sirius had only a second to think. The jagged ice spikes rushed toward him, sharp as blades, their cold glint a promise of death. His mind screamed one word, over and over, drowning out every thought: Wings!!! Wings! I need my wings!!!!!!!!!! I need …..my…..wings.....
The familiar pull in his back surged, but nothing came. No feathers, no salvation—only pain. His body seized as the pull deepened into a violent tearing, like claws ripping him apart from the inside out. His body arched involuntarily, and the sensation hit like a thousand blades ripping through his flesh. "GGGGAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" His scream echoed across the battlefield, raw and primal.
Saoirse bolted from her seat, slamming her fists against the barrier with a force that made it shudder. "SIRIUS!!!" she screamed, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes.
The battlefield erupted into chaos. Black ash exploded outward from Sirius's body, a suffocating cloud that swallowed the light. Saoirse clawed at the barrier, desperate to break through.
Inside the box, the air became thick and cold, suffused with an unnatural darkness that seemed to breathe. Then, like the collapse of a dying star, a white flash pierced the void, brighter than anything Saoirse had ever seen. It burned into her retinas, blinding her for a split second.
And then… silence.
The barrier dissolved, and Ériu's voice cut through the oppressive quiet, sharp and commanding. "Sirius! Are you alive? Answer me!"
Saoirse handed Lachlan to Sroka without a second thought, her hands trembling. "Sirius?" she called, her voice barely more than a whisper. The ash swirled around her as she stepped forward, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. The air was ice cold, each step crunching over frost-coated ground.
"SIRIUS! WHERE ARE YOU?!" she cried out, her voice echoing into the void.
The darkness was absolute, thick and impenetrable even to her night vision. She stumbled forward blindly, her heart pounding in her chest. Her foot caught on something solid, and she fell hard, her hands scraping against the frozen ground.
Her stomach dropped. A body? No—please, no.
"Sirius?" she whispered, her voice trembling. She reached out tentatively, her hands brushing against something soft and cold. Feathers.
Her night vision adjusted slowly, and there he was. Sirius lay sprawled on the ground, motionless, his face pale and his chest rising in shallow breaths. His wings—black, vast, and menacing—stretched around him like a cocoon. The feathers gleamed with an unnatural sheen, each one absorbing light instead of reflecting it.
The darkness around him pulsed, alive and suffocating. Saoirse's breath hitched. He wasn't just cloaked in shadow; he was the shadow, the darkness radiating from him like an aura.
Ériu appeared beside her, her expression unreadable as she knelt and touched the feathers. They were ice-cold, almost brittle, yet thrumming with a dark energy.
"He has wings," Saoirse whispered, awe and fear mingling in her voice.
Ériu's eyes widened as realization dawned. "He's a death angel," she murmured, her tone reverent and horrified.
"A death angel?" Saoirse repeated, her voice cracking, confused.
"The goddess of death had 6 sons, and 6 daughters. And then, there was a 13th. The 13th was different…."
The wings retracted into Sirius' back. He looked at Ériu and tiredly whispered, "Taz.." his voice barely audible. "..are you back Taz?"
"No." Eriu said. The darkness began to fade, revealing the battlefield—or what was left of it. Every Valkyrie was gone, their bodies reduced to fine ash.
"Let's go home. Maybe we should rest tonight. I will explain tomorrow," Ériu said, her voice soft but firm.
Saoirse nodded, her thoughts swirling as they walked. The weight of everything that had happened pressed heavily on her, but her gaze stayed on Sirius, his body limp with exhaustion as they carried him.
After a long silence, Saoirse finally spoke. "I think I noticed something today."
Ériu turned to her, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "And what is that?"
Saoirse reached out, her fingers brushing gently through Sirius's hair. His breathing was steady, but his face still held a faint shadow of pain. "He acts a lot like Taz when he's confident. Like the two of them aren't so separate from each other after all."
Ériu's lips curved into a mysterious smile. "I think you're on to something there," she said, her tone almost teasing. "Every being will find that their familiar is a big part of who they are."
Saoirse frowned slightly, the weight of Ériu's words settling in her chest. She opened her mouth to ask more, but Ériu raised a hand to stop her.
"Tomorrow," Ériu said firmly. "For now, rest."
But as Saoirse looked back at Sirius, her heart sank. The dark aura around him, faint but still present, seemed to pulse in time with his breathing. For a moment, it almost looked like his wings flickered beneath his skin, ready to emerge again the faintest flicker of black feathers rippled across Sirius's back once more. She ran her fingers across his back and it was as if a shimmering tattoo of wings had imprinted there.