Chapter 9: Top of the World

Night had fallen. At least, that’s what it had seemed. Darkness shrouded the land as a typhoon beat down on Wyn. Like an eclipse, it came and went. Wyn, meanwhile, was racing along the tree, trying desperately to stay close to the bird. Difficult to chase something whose every movement threatened to toss them into the sky.

Each beat of its wings was like a tornado, vacuuming anything and everything from the trees high into the air. Wyn, who was on the way down and clutching one of the branches, managed to stay attached to the ground.

Magus, however, was far less lucky. Currently, he was being tossed around in the turbulent vacuum of air underneath the bird’s wings. Every time he began to fall, an upbeat of its wing brought along with it a ton of air, and Magus with it. Every time he threatened to get flung into the stratosphere, a downbeat would send Magus hurtling toward the earth. With each movement, he could feel the cloth around his arms constrict and loosen, each beat threatening to hurl him away from Wyn and into oblivion. Of course, if a normal person were to experience such a thing, they’d quickly find themselves a red mist. Magus was not that lucky. And so, Magus bounced around in the air, as the Speireri Oich circled the air, trying to find the source of the attack that dared challenge their reign.

Without access to Wyn’s mana, he was utterly helpless. And with the distance between the two growing, there was barely any to spare for his vital functions, let alone even thinking about casting a spell. And after having given a grand speech to Wyn, too.

“Let me handle it!”

He had said. And now, he was being handled. He glanced around, watching as massive trunks danced in the air with him. Any creature that was unlucky enough to have gotten sucked in there with him and long since expired. He could feel droplets of liquid in the air, though it was too dark to determine whether they were water or something else. Honestly, as long as the creature kept circling the area, he wasn’t too worried. It would only be when the creature returned to roost that he’d be in any real danger of getting separated.

He reached as the wings beat down, but obviously he was sent crashing down before a feather could even conceive of the concept of entering his range. Perhaps, though, when the wing beat up. As he was launched into the air, he caught some rising branches with him. Using them as steps, he climbed up, leaping into the updraft. Finally, as the wing began its descent, he caught a feather. Now what?

Wyn collapsed onto the leaves, breathing hard. The stupid bird was just circling the same area, so as long as she was in the center, she shouldn’t be too far. She secured herself tightly with a vine around her waist, so she shouldn’t go flying no matter how close the bird got.

“Hey, you stupid bird!” Wyn shouted. The Speireri Oich, of course, didn’t hear her. How could it hear anything over the sound of its own wings? It cawed out again, the ear-rupturing scream sending Wyn to desperately clutch at her head. With a groan, she shred some nearby leaves, fashioning their pulp into makeshift ear plugs. They could only do so much against that things terrible cries, but anything was better than nothing. With a cry, she ignited her sword and swung. The flames sputtered and died out in the onslaught of wind. How did this thing not warrant military intervention?

Over and over, she launched spell after spell. Her wind slashes vanished under the strength of the bird's wind, any stone constructs crumbled and eroded into dust. With a frustrated shout, she ducked under the canopy, cutting off a tree top. Against the Grim Diubh, she had to launch them with all her might, but a small push was all that was needed to send the tree crashing into the bird. With a cry, the bird collided with the tree, knocking it down to the canopy.

“Trees make excellent weapons.” Magus couldn’t help but think. Just as he managed to grab a hold of a feather, a massive tree came crashing into him, stabbing him with branches. His grip, of course, came off, and soon found himself falling into the canopy. Spreading his arms and legs out, he managed to cushion his blow, landing somewhat softly onto the canopy.

With a hop, the Speireri Oich shook off the remnants of the tree, looking around for whatever had attacked it. It let out an enraged screech, taking to the skies once again. Magus clutched desperately at any branches he could reach, but soon found himself soaring once again.

Not again!

Wyn let out a distraught wail as the bird rose up. As she dove down to cut off another tree top, she heard the sound of a vine snapping. She heard the violent cry of the bird out for blood, and could feel it too. The wing beats had become faster, more violent, if that was even possible. She desperately clutched at the vines, trying to tie the loose ends together, but they just kept snapping. One after the other. Wyn’s cries were lost to the wind as she went sky high.

“Air solid in bands under foot, sunlit gale lift the spirit, feathers catch under arm, ride the wind on soaring wings!”

A burst of air stabilized Wyn, and she finally managed to right herself as she hovered in the air. Like a gyroscope, the air around her spun in violent whirlpools. Her mana was quickly getting scattered like dust, the constant upkeep of mana leaking into the air like a broken faucet. Just floating around won’t get her anywhere. And so, as though she were swimming through syrup, she slowly flew herself towards the bird.

“Hrah!” Wyn let out a hoarse cry. She clung to the neck fluff of the Speireri Oich, desperately hacking away at its feathers. However, she could barely muster the strength to cut down a tree, and the feathers were surprisingly soft. She had half a mind to just sink into the soft down and fall asleep. But that was probably just the lack of air talking. It didn’t even notice as its feathers were chopped into pieces, decorating the air like pieces of purple confetti. With a groan, Wyn sheathed her sword. She clung to the bird, her body completely flat against it as she crawled along its length. Perhaps, if she could just reach Magus. He was confident, at least at the start of this commission. He probably had a plan.

Perhaps because Magus had spent his entire life, from his perspective, under the trees of the Gigant, Magus didn’t realize that the sun was so bright. Or, at the very least, he had forgotten such a thing. Now, Magus was lucky enough to have managed to get atop of the bird. But, honestly, bouncing in the air above or below the bird didn’t really make too much of a difference to him. He felt that if Wyn were here in his place, she would appreciate the view. But, no, actually, the turbulence might kill her. There’s only so much a human body could take, after all. It was a while since Magus had last seen Wyn. Considering the fact that he was still active, that meant she was still alive, which was good. He hoped she would manage to get him down soon. As fun as bouncing around was, the upper atmosphere was rather cold.

Wyn had to take a rest. The wind around her was rushing straight past her, fast enough to where she couldn’t get in a good breath. There were enough feathers, and they were long enough, to where she could tie herself down, but that would only last for so long. She was getting dizzy, and she wasn’t sure whether it was the speed she was traveling at or the thin air. Most likely, it was a combination of the two. Thankfully, though, the Speireri Oich had begun to slow. Getting attacked once, and then not again, perhaps had made it believe that whatever dared challenge it already fell to its powerful wings. Or retreated. Wyn doubted the bird cared about the difference. Her mana was slowly restoring, now that she no longer had to maintain her Soaring Wings. Yet not a rate she believed would outpace her suffocation. She had to find Magus, and fast.

As she looked around, though, he was nowhere to be seen. Positioned on the back of the bird's neck, she should have an excellent vantage point. But if Magus were under the bird's wings instead…

Three hundred twenty seven. That is how many branches and splinters of wood were currently bouncing along with Magus. It was quite difficult to count, since they were both bouncing around with no rhythm at all, but he had managed to. He would pat himself on the back, if he were able to. Still, Magus glanced ahead. The bird had begun changing direction. Sensing no challenger, the bird must’ve decided to return home to roost. A sense of dread pervaded through Magus. There was no way Wyn would be able to keep up with the Speireri Oich’s speed. As he thought that, he glanced down at the bird’s neck, where his face then lit up. As much as he could, at the very least. “I’m over here!” He wanted to call. “Look at me!” Instead, though, Wyn turned and began crawling towards the bird’s head.

Reaching Magus was too difficult an ask. Wyn couldn’t be sure whether the idiot was above or below, and she doubted she had the mana left to fly to him. No, she had to take matters into her own hands. Slowly, but surely, she turned around, climbing up the bird’s neck. The process was slow, with many breaks. Every few feet, she had to take a moment to catch her breath. But eventually, she reached the top of the Speireri Oich’s head. And it didn’t realize a thing. Those thick feathers, probably to keep out the cold, were now back firing. It couldn’t feel as Wyn crawled along its head, not until it was right in front of its eye. It let out an indignant squawk, but it was too late. With the last of her strength, she stabbed her sword into its eye.

Immediately, everything began to fall. Flailing in pain was hardly the grace one needed to take to the skies, and it crashed into the canopy, knocking down quite a few trees along with it. Magus clung to its falling feathers, careful not to fall far away. He saw as Wyn climbed over the bird’s body, coughing and taking in deep lungfuls of air. Immediately, he rushed over.

“Wyn, are you okay?”

“And where the hell were you, you dumbass?” Immediately, Wyn began shouting. Apparently her lungs weren’t as empty as she had thought. “This fight was your idea, yet here I am, doing all of the work!”

Magus could only sit apologetically as Wyn tore into him, a series of scathing remarks that struck him to the quick. Yet the Speireri Oich wasn’t dead yet. It spasmed, once again launching the two into the air as it tried to pick itself up. Magus grabbed Wyn’s wrist, pulling her in close. He couldn’t afford to get separated again.

“You did well, Wyn. I’ll take it from here.”

What little mana Wyn had remaining, she could feel it drawn into Magus. She huffed. Who did this guy think he was, taking her mana for his own like that? Whatever. She was too tired to care.

Magus took as much mana from Wyn as he dared, leaving just enough so that her life would be in no danger. She had expended a lot just to reach him, but it was enough.

“This is the light beyond the sky. This is the light that pierces endless darkness. This is the light that keeps eternity at bay. This is the light of a thousand lights.”

One second of silence. Two seconds of silence. Three seconds of silence. A brilliant flash of blinding light eclipsing even the sun. Followed by an ear splitting roar. Magus drifted to the ground, shielding an unconscious Wyn in his arms. He brushed from her hair soot and dust. Around them, a molten hellscape. An entire section of Gigant Forest turned into molten rock. From the air drifted down a single purple feather.