Over the Mountains

A shadow flew over the Kenichi Modern as Haruki and Anemone removed the shrubbery draped over it. A second shadow darted above the forest canopy. A shrill, layered cry echoed from afar. Haruki's hair stood on end.

When he removed the giant, withered leaf from the Lewis gun, he let his eyes rest on its features. What am I so afraid of? We've fought worse.

“While they're distracted,” he said. “Anemone. Think we can shoot them down like we did the Dragon Lord?”

Anemone grimaced like Haruki had blasphemed.

“We can't do that.”

Haruki blinked. “What? Why?”

“I'd like to spare them if we could.” She exhaled deep. “I did say the Sky Legion wiped out all griffons near the Kingdom. But if a pair of griffons came back to nest here, then there might be more of them,” she said, voice rising. “Ka'Ilyah is just as much home to them as it is to… us.”

Haruki’s shoulders dropped. It would be foolish to try and gun them down head-on, since they seemed almost as agile as the plane.

It would be even more foolish to make an enemy of Anemone.

“So you want us to… outrun them?”

“Can we not?”

“The question is—how far can they follow us?”

“There,” Anemone pointed at a blue sky-tinted mountain range far in the direction of the Inverted City. “They rarely leave their territory even when it's food getting away from them.”

Haruki crossed his arms, his attention turning to the word ‘rarely’.

“You're sure?”

“As sure as the sun rises.”

He launched himself into the plane’s cockpit and started the engine. He helped Anemone up to the co-pilot seat.

Strapping flight goggles over his eyes, he yanked the controls to test and spoke.

“Then I hope there aren't days in your world when the sun doesn't come up.”

Anemone giggled. “Not that I know of.”

With a short nudge forward and a vortex pushing it upwards, the KM flew off the ground and far from the thin forest treeline. He turned the plane in the direction of the Inverted City and throttled forward, engine revving all the way.

Haruki’s eyes sharpened, monitoring the clear skies for movement. “Tell me if you see anything unusual—griffon or not.”

“Nothing so far,” Anemone acknowledged, seeing nothing but calm behind the plane.

Trees rustled in the wake of the KM, and only those behind and under it.

But Haruki could hear them. The griffons were screeching—squaking—somewhere.

From a dense treeline, a beast flew up, its sudden flight ripping young trees from their roots.

The creature had the features of an eagle, dark brown and distinctly a bird, but there was something more lion-like from its neck and above—white feathers arranged like a mane, eyes positioned full forward like a predator's. The flapping of its winds rippled the trees below it.

It was just as big as the KM. Bigger than any bird Haruki might have known on Earth.

Anemone saw it first. “Behind us!”

A gale nudged the KM to the right. Haruki rolled the plane to match.

The griffon flew past, claws forward, momentum throwing it several paces away.

It pivoted in a flash. It lunged again. Haruki rolled the KM again and pitched it up. Violent wind pushed him into his seat.

“This thing seems faster than us,” Haruki glanced back and shouted. “I think outrunning it is outta the question!”

“I've never seen one this big before!”

“What, so all Ka'Ilyah griffons were teens and this one's the only adult?”

“Likely.”

Haruki adjusted the plane's path and straightened it. The V8 Engine under the hood rumbled like mad when he tried to throttle it to its limits. Sensing the griffon's approach from behind, he strafed again, letting the griffon's ferocious charge pass them.

It elevated and dove at the KM with outstretched talons. Haruki dodged again.

For all its speed and power, its movements were simple and predictable—but even that would eventually catch up to Haruki, if it were persistent enough.

And it showed no signs of relenting.

Haruki thought of a slipstream, and in an instant, a pocket of air cleared its way before the plane. He rode the stream, the plane accelerating faster with no wind to resist it.

The Sky Link was working—even better than yesterday.

But the griffon still flew behind the KM, if barely. And the mountain range? Only halfway there.

“Anemone,” Haruki said grimly. “If we keep going like this, it might just end up killing us.”

She eyed the Lewis gun with hesitation. “But—”

“It's gonna be us or them,” he said. “We both know what the answer is.”

“...Just a little more, Sir Haruki,” she pleaded. Her eyes lit up. “The second griffon! If only it were here…”

“It should, but clearly it's not.”

“If only we could have them fight over us…”

“If we could get it here. That comes first, doesn't it? You got a plan for that?”

Anemone's face tightened. “I don't.”

A sigh escaped Haruki. “...Just a little more,” he said when he noticed the mountain range nearing faster than he estimated. “But when the time comes, I hope you have the strength to choose the thing that keeps us alive.”

“Thank you, Sir Haruki.” She nodded. “And I will.”

When the slipstream ended, the plane slowed. The griffon, having caught up, lunged again. Haruki rolled the KM again. It struck again and again, and he had no choice but to get out of the way. He wished he could just turn around and shoot, or that Anemone would.

Sweat broke through Anemone’s skin, her breath quickening. The magic was taking its toll on her.

The mountains closed in.

A sheer vertical wall of jagged stone and slate towered above. Spikes of rock shot up from the mountain and ground as if they were designed to impale impossible giants. Haruki scanned a route up the mountain and found exactly one route that might save their life.

He tilted the plane up right before it struck the cliff face. The engine yawned and the metal under the canvas creaked as gravity worked against them. The griffon darted into the wall and pushed itself up to chase.

Haruki squeezed between horizontal spires of stone, rolling side to side, each pass missing his wings by a hair’s length. The griffon trailed behind, showing no signs of difficulty. It was more agile than them, after all.

The KM’s engine began to sputter. Haruki sensed its limits—it could stall at any moment.

I can’t slow down. I can’t slow down!

The griffon closed in, shedding feathers as Anemone’s magic worked to push it down. But it wouldn’t stop. It inched closer—and closer.

Its talons poised to strike.

“Anemone!”

She squeezed the Lewis gun’s handle tight. Her finger trembled, wiggling its way onto the trigger with titanic effort. Then—

A large, speeding silhouette crashed onto the griffon, shoving both of them onto the mountain’s slate wall. The creatures screeched against each other, one monstrous wail layering over the next.

“Sir Haruki, it’s…!”

“It’s about time!”

With the distraction, Haruki sloped the plane to avoid stalling and kept a steady pace up the mountain. “They’re catching up,” Anemone said when the griffons, now a distance behind, began to chase again.

But their pursuit was impeded.

When one griffon would close in, the other would push the other down. The beasts clawed and pecked up, but their gigantic bodies would get in the way of each other, curling into a flying ball of violence.

Haruki could see where the rock face ended and the sky began. He clenched his teeth and fought gravity with all he could.

The KM thrust itself over the rocks, pitched, then flew straight past the mountain.

An expanse of land emerged before and below them. Endless fields of green and golden brown, ending at one point in the distance:

The sea.

The griffons flew over the mountain, but stopped when an invisible threshold stopped them. Their bickering also ceased as they hovered over the hidden border, then flew back as if nothing had happened.

“They… really stopped,” Haruki said, glancing back. Anemone might have said they were “territorial”, but he had never seen beasts draw a line between them so… clearly.

“They are territorial, after all.”

Is that how it works…?

Shrugging feelings of suspicion off, Haruki refocused on the glimmering sea by the horizon.

“Anemone, look,” he said, sighing in relief.

Even a glancing sight of its mesmering shine took Anemone’s breath away. “That’s… the ocean.”

“Yeah,” Haruki replied. “Maybe… we can make it after all?”

At that moment, a thought crossed his mind.

If he could cross the sea, would that make the world very, very small?