Despite the moon hanging high in the sky, the city continued to bustle and thrive around Amon. She kept her cloak close to her, shielding herself despite the old woman's promise that it was enchanted.
Androsa, she reminded herself—recalling the name painted on a worn wooden sign outside of the shop: Androsa's Antiques. She caught a glimpse of it after making it further down the street; just in case she ever got the chance to repay the woman for helping her.
Once out of the markets, the world around her calmed. A lot more people milled around than she was used to, but—thanks to perhaps the cloak's magick—they minded their business and did not engage rudely with her. Sure, there may have been the odd glance or two, but however she may have appeared, none would think a nicely dressed person would smell so horrid.
At one point she stopped and asked for directions, as she never had the chance. She was pointed toward where lines of people were gathered. They were watching something on one of the main streets, which she needed to cross to get to North Vil. Part of Amon was curious, but the other part was wary of being in such a large crowd. Still, the only other way—as pointed out by the kind old man—would cost her an extra half hour. And though she spent the past week traveling and could certainly stick it out for a bit longer, she didn't want to. With a sigh, she walked over to see just what occupied everyone's attention.
First, all she could see was a procession of carriages; but after pushing her way closer to the road, she spotted the gleaming armor and froze where she stood.
Of course, with her luck…
Being the only ones permitted to return to the Surface, the Valkyr often carried out expeditions to keep the empire in the sky running like any other land. This must have been the most recently returned group, brought to the capital to remind the citizens that the Valkyr Corps was still active despite what the rumors would lead one to believe.
Outfitted in armors that rivaled anything that could be produced on the Surface, the Valkyr carried an air of both extravagance and power that would make anyone quake in their boots. The metal glinted in the moonlight, shimmering with a myriad of enchantments that would make any mage's mouth water.
They paraded in on a mixture of Griffins, Hippogriffs, Sphinxes, and Pegasi, each outfitted with similar armor to their riders. The creatures walked with more grace and precision than many of the nobles Amon used to be familiar with.
This is the product of years' worth of grueling training and experience.
Amon recalled the frightening stories she used to hear of what occurred on the Floating Isles, of what the Valkyr trainees would face in the pursuit of everlasting glory and honor—along with the privilege to see the Surface as something more than an infinite space of green and ground. As more recruits disappeared than came out at the end, many were reluctant to join their ranks. This led the Valkyr to instead exploit those with empty pockets and a tendency for betting—promising to resolve their debts and keep their stomachs full in exchange for children they wouldn't mind letting go. Many would claim to be immune to such promises, but when an opportunity like that comes along just as you're about to lose hope… Perci lost more than a few friends and servants to those Isles.
She shook herself, turning to look for the detour the old man showed her. The pack of supplies grew heavier by the second, and this way would be shorter compared to waiting for the Valkyr to pass.
The murmurs around her grew as a Valkyr strolled through on her own two feet, two sets of pure-white feathered wings folded behind her, and a serious expression that spelled 'murder' written across her face.
"Isn't that Captain Rialis?"
"I hear her squad is one of the best in the nation. parliament is always sending them to the Surface."
"I thought she disliked coming to the Capital?"
Amon stared at the Captain, worry gnawing at her. What could have brought on the need for such a display? Especially if the squad primarily performed scouting missions?
Even without her Sight, Amon could see the silent anger brewing within the Captain and her squad. None of them reveled in the praises shouted at them, ignoring the crowds gathered on either side of the street.
In fact—
Something tickled the back of her head. She looked around, thinking it may be in part due to a mage (they sometimes liked to poke where they didn't belong) but her breath left her when she spotted the culprit.
In an alleyway close by stood four beings with scarlet red eyes, all fixed on her. They looked like her, like a Kenra, with their pretty faces and curved horns, but also different. Their skin resembled the cobblestones, grey and cracked. An aura surrounded them that promised chaos and death.
Shadowfaen.
One of them opened their mouths, unleashing a blood-curdling screech that echoed through the street. Everyone around her covered their ears and sought cover. The Valkyr sprang into action, drawing out their blades and searching for the source of the sound.
Amon couldn't move. Her feet wouldn't listen.
The Shadowfaen rushed out of their hiding place, bat-like wings extending as they stormed through the area, attacking anyone within their sight. The Valkyr, for their part, fought them with brave expressions, but it was clear they were overpowered as several were killed where they stood, their beasts having their hearts torn out by the monsters.
A Pegasus' head landed in front of Amon's feet, its eyes devoid of life.
That spurred her into action as she ran, not caring where she ended up.
One of the creatures followed her, its footsteps rapid on the ground behind her. Amon's breath left in short gasps as she tried every method, she read about to confuse the beast. She ran in zig-zags, she took sharp turns down random side streets until she was lost. She even attempted to reach for that core energy her brother's arcane teacher ranted about, yet as always felt nothing except a dull void within.
But it stuck to her trail, chasing her.
Amon came out to a crossroads, where a bridge passed over one of the few rivers in the city. Her ticket to the northern districts. But just as she made to dash, she tripped. Her pack fell, scattering the books everywhere.
"Shit, shit, shit."
She tried to gather them, but her hands trembled and she either dropped them or struggled to fit them in the pack. The slow footsteps of the Shadowfaen approached its talons clacking against the ground.
Fuck it. She stood to run. A hand grasped her ankle and yanked her back.
The Shadowfaen lifted her into the air, sniffing her as its crimson eyes stared into her own.
It reeked of rot. Her stomach churned, but fear kept her from even blinking.
Master… Its voice echoed in her brain, and she winced. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Shivers ran down her spine.
How could Persi's ancestors handle being close to such beasts?
A battle cry sounded nearby.
Captain Rialis flew through the sky, crashing into the Shadowfaen. It released her. Amon fell to the ground.
The two clashed while she shuffled back against a random building, unable to do anything but watch as Rialis engaged the creature, her eyes wide in what must have been terror.
The Shadowfaen fought, its blows backed by the violent energy of the Void, but the Captain wielded her own magick, trading each hit with one of her own.
These were nothing like the complicated techniques Amon had trained centuries to master. No, they exchanged pure, unaltered magickal energy. A mishmash of violet and indigo met to create an explosion of black magick that Amon took care to dodge the remnants of.
Yet, as Amon very well knew, one would outlast the other. And by the sweat dripping down Rialis' dark skin, she figured there wasn't nearly enough time.
She searched her surroundings and found the books still scattered across the street. Instead of waiting to see the fight's outcome, she dashed forward to grab them and would have run off if not for the Captain crying out.
She turned to see the Shadowfaen's claws ripping through the Captain's left shoulder, causing the Valkyr to drop her sword. Amon noticed then how bloody and torn her wings were as well.
She needed to run.
You need to do something.
As though grabbed by an unseen force, Amon's attention was ripped away and towards the northern district, where the golden towers of the Castle of Lords were still shrouded with the telltale signs of construction crews.
Or are you going to pretend it's not your problem again? The voice in her head was her own, yet also not. It held a firmness and directive too strong for her current state.
But what could she do? All of her weapons training was useless for her current state. No magick had yet to show itself—that's how she ended up like this in the first place. And she had no knowledge of the Shadowfaen except that their very existence served as one of several stains on Persi's family's legacy.
She looked back at the creature holding Rialis, remembering what it called her.
That's it… they once controlled them…
Amon glanced down at the back of her left hand, her brother's voice echoing in her mind.
"He's only the Heir in name. I think… the true power lies in that Mark, as much as they wish to deny it. I'm sure one day we will unlock that secret."
Amon resolved herself. If the Shadowfaen killed Rialis, it would just come after her next.
She had to do something.
Rialis scrambled to grab her sword with her other hand.
"Run, now!"
Amon didn't listen. A stirring in her core ignited an unfamiliar light. Any other time, and she would have freaked out. But she allowed it to well up inside her, to push energy and strength into her veins.
She charged at the creature, her books forgotten on the ground.
Without thinking, she grabbed it by the back of its neck, the momentum ripping it away from Rialis and bringing them both to the ground and rolling together. The creatures scratched at her, but she kicked back, hissing as her claws extended and her Sight opened, showing the magickal energy surrounding the creature in front of her. Traces of the Void clung to it like a second skin, covering it in its violet embrace.
Acting on pure instinct, Amon continued to roll them until she was on top of the Shadowfaen, using her newfound strength to press her left hand against the creature's neck. All she was thinking was how much she wanted it gone.
"Master, why? Master!" It screeched in her mind, writhing underneath her violently, but she held it in place.
Her hand burned as though she had placed it in a fire, the Mark flashing a faint violet light before the creature disintegrated beneath her. Within seconds, she knelt in a pile of ash.
Amon breathed heavily as the events caught up in her mind. She leaped away, staring down at her left hand—the creature's voice continuing to echo in her mind.
They could talk?
"By the Divines…"
It wasn't her that spoke.
The Captain leaned heavily on her sword, staring wide-eyed at the pile of ash.
"Well, that's one way to deal with them I guess." The Captain glared at Amon. "But you disobeyed my order."
"If I hadn't, you'd be dead."
"You seem so certain. Are you a Seer? An Oracle?"
Amon bit her tongue. She didn't need the Valkyr looking into her. She rather liked being alive, all things considered.
So, she slid away, placing the books into her pack and sliding it over her shoulder.
The Captain motioned down the street. "Keep heading that way for a couple of blocks and you'll find the Nightgate Inn. Faraldin should be operating there. Stay hidden until the situation is dealt with."
Amon's eyes narrowed. That was the opposite direction the old man had pointed out. Where in the Hells was he about to send me then?
Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she nodded and ran off to do just that. Anything would be better than getting on the Valkyr's bad side. Or worse, gaining her attention and remaining in her memory.
"Wait."
Amon froze. Was this the end? She must have recognized her. Is this when she would be killed? After her, it was only a matter of time before they got her brother and then that was that. Their House would cease to exist.
The Valkyr approached her and opened the pack, examining the books. Her brow furrowed.
"Are these from Androsa's shop?"
Amon nodded. "She asked me to drop them off to someone."
The Valkyr hummed, giving Amon a long stare before sending her off again.
Amon had never walked so fast in her life, the aches of the ordeal already a forgotten memory as she rushed to leave the Valkyr's sights.