Glass or Diamond: Fairy's Wish

Air. It is as necessary to fire as to life. Take away the breath, and a living thing will die. It is an effective way to defeat men and monsters alike.

Taking breath away can be easier said than done, but it’s rarely impossible.

The opposite is less true. Once taken away, breath can very easily become impossible to reclaim.

That’s why he must conserve what he has. The moment he knew; the moment it began, he took a breath and held. When he knew he could take another, he exchanged. It was all about time, now. If he could escape, he would escape, but he needs to find a chance to. The sand rail’s frame will protect him some, but only from impacts.

The sand closes in around him, bearing down on him with immense weight. He nearly coughs out his last breath. He has seconds with it. He has none without.

Darkness surrounds him, but it doesn’t frighten him. Monsters prowl the darkness. So does he. Monsters of the dark do not fear it. Neither does he.

Sand is nothing like water, though. He can’t simply shed weight and swim. He has only one chance at all, and all of the sand above him will deter him with firm and near-crushing weight.

He stands up -or tries to-. He’s never been buried like this. He’s typically very careful not to for this very reason.

It’s now or never.

He puts all of his might into standing up. His only good fortune right now is that the sand is still shifting.

He can feel his lungs burning. He’s running out of time. He can’t tell his vision is fading, but he’s sure it must be.

He is able to straighten his legs, and can feel the sand scraping mercilessly into his armor and down his skin. He forces his right hand upwards. It’s his only chance now. He has to have faith. Did his friends get him into this mess or did he? Ultimately, his chosen destination is partially to blame, but that chosen destination revolves around his companions.

However he got here, now, his friends are the only ones who can save him barring some other immense amount of luck.

His hand starts to feel cold. Could it be above the sand? He tries to flex his fingers, and they feel free… maybe. He’s losing feeling and can tell his consciousness is hanging by a thread.

He can hear the lernaetode roar through the sand, muffled in the distance as his mind starts to turn static.

************************************

Murtoa’s sand rail is gone in what feels like less than a blink. “Mury?”

Gyrryth is the first to have a true reaction, though. He jogs to the edge of the sinking slope, and he quickly draws one of his lightning pistols. He intones the spell, firing the pistol as soon as the glow ignites, and thunder rips down the hill with an angered roar in response.

The lizardman spellshot jogs towards them, shouting as the three girls try to approach, “TO THE CRUISER! WE HAVE TO GO!”

Coco accuses with rage, “We no’ leavi-”

Gyrryth backhands her, saying, “Don’t even suggest it girl! We have to grab him on the run!”

She shakes her head clear, joining him as he sprints toward the cruiser. The two fairies fly as quickly as they can to keep up.

The reptilian has to hold his hat down when a gust nearly takes it, and he yanks the door of the passenger side of the cab open, lifting it without hesitation off of its hinge. Lykha had no idea the doors came off so easily, and he throws it into the back cabin of the cruiser, closing the ramp. He orders, “Get us close, and I’ll grab Sir Murtoa! We can’t stop for long!”

“I’m on it!” Coco’s eyes are watering and fiery with anger, but determination also fills her presence.

“Anything I can do?” asks Lykha.

“Watch for more of them and don’t fall out of the cab.” The fairies fly into the middle of the cockpit between Coco and Gyrryth as the lizardman hangs out the side. Coco drives towards the caved-in slope of the desert trail left by a titanic creature. Gyrryth draws his other lightning pistol, intoning the spell again loudly over the noise.

As the nose of the cruiser crests the edge of the caved-in slope, the four of them can see the full scope of the valley, as well as the monster below them.

It appears to be a massive worm of some kind, with pale skin and a surprisingly small mouth. Though, this mouth is full of razor-sharp teeth.

And, near the base of the worm where its body enters the sand is a small vehicle.

Lykha points frantically, “THERE!”

Coco barks, “I see i’!” She steers the vehicle deftly, but their momentum is mostly beyond her control. Lykha can see the sand outside isn’t moving.

Or rather, it’s moving with them.

Gyrryth fires his pistol, and a flash nearly blinds the young fairy as she watches it hit the worm. Its head flails violently as it shrieks, and it recoils into the sand.

The spellshot holsters his pistol, drawing another. But, Maerin calls out, “Holdy there, Lizzy, I gots somefin for ya.” The inebriated fairy pulls a box from under the middle seat, revealing hand-made bombs. “Save some -hic- spells.” She hands one of the bombs up to him, and he nods. “Lykha;” “On it!”

The young fairy knows her role instantly, using her flame spell to ignite the fuse. Gyrryth chucks the bomb with purpose, throwing it far ahead of them. It explodes rather vibrantly with varying colored flames, surprising everyone.

Maerin, unfazed by the surprise in the cab, hands another bomb up.

Gyrryth orders, “Hold!” He places his feet and tail awkwardly in the cab, and the purpose is revealed soon enough. He hangs his whole body out of the cab of the vehicle, putting his hands near the sand itself. “I see you, my friend! Hang on!”

Lykha spots Gyrryth’s apparent goal; a gloved hand emerging from the sand surrounded by metal railing. It’s not moving, but it’s there. The young fairy clutches the collar of her shirt, her heart pounding ferociously in her chest.

She knows all too well…

Not all arms are still attached to their owners.

Gyrryth orders, “BRAKE! NOW!”

Coco shifts her feet, panicking when nothing seems to happen. “I’M-... IT’S NO’ WORKIN’!”

Lykha calls out, “The sand’s pulling us!”

“I know! This is fine!” The lizardman is easily the strongest of the party; a natural gift of his species. And with that strength, he heaves his body out as far as he can reach. He grips something, nearly being pulled from the cab as if he grabbed an anchor.

But, with a mighty roar, he heaves with all his strength. “GGRRAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Within moments, he deftly pulls himself in…

…with a human warrior wearing two swords and improvised armor. Gyrryth wrestles Murtoa’s seemingly-lifeless body into the cab, shouting, “Bomb! Toss a bomb!”

Lykha darts down to where Maerin is holding one of her hand-crafted explosive jars. The younger fairy lights the fuse, and the two of them stand up, hefting the jar together. They throw the jar together, and a short while later, an explosion thunders the vehicle.

The beast outside roars again in anger.

Gyrryth shouts, “Go! He’s secure enough!”

Coco says nothing for once, slamming her feet down on the accelerator. Gyrryth adds, “Head across and stop for nothing! Our only chance now is to reach the other side!”

“I go’ it!”

“What about others!?” asks Lykha.

“We pray to the spirits and the gods all that we can dodge the beasts.”

Coco yells, “HANG ON!” She heaves the controls, lurching the vehicle precariously.

A fountain of sand splashes the side of the vehicle as another monster roars.

“DIG ROCKS AND SUCK GOL’WATER, YA GOOB!”

“LESS TAUNTING AND MORE DRIVING!” snaps Lykha.

“I CAN DO BOTH, BAE! DO SOMETHIN’ USEFUL AND GET DESE PALE LIVELOGS OFF OUR PINKIES!”

Lykha looks at her companions. Mury is incapcitated on the floor, while Gyrryth ignites the fuse of another bomb. During the small lull, Maerin is stealing a drink from her flask.

“Maerin! Stop drinking!”

Maerin says sloppily, “I ain’t dyin’ sober, Li-... Ly-... Lassa.” She scoffs, snickering at her own flub.

“Y-You could still-...”

“I done made bombs! Wha’ am I s’posed to do now, ‘sides get in the way?”

Gyrryth says brusquely, “She’s not wrong. I’m afraid our chances rely on our fiery one.”

“HA!” cheers Coco. “Oohp!” She grunts as she lunges virtually her whole body left, dodging yet another fountain of sand before the monster beneath it can ambush them. For an insane teen that can barely see over the console of the vehicle, she’s an incredibly good driver and alert to see the monsters in time.

Lykha looks ahead of them. The far edge of the trail is still so far away. Not to mention; will they even be able to ascend it?

“Nnn… ugh…”

A male human voice coughs from the floor, and Lykha’s heart flutters. She flies quickly down to Murtoa’s helmet. “Mury! Mury, are you okay!?”

“Better than I was…” He coughs. “Thanks.” He wearily climbs up into the middle seat, and Gyrryth says as warmly as he can, “Welcome back, Sir Murtoa. Our straits are dire at the moment. I know lightning element and pure element magic are lerneatodes’ weaknesses, but I know little else about dealing with them.”

Mury coughs as he sits up, “Keep the vehicle moving at full speed, whatever you do. Now that they know we’re here, we can’t stop.” He checks his hip for the simple sword with a basic pommel; the one given to him by Kolaya. Lykha notices though; he doesn’t check for the other one -which is present as well on his hip-.

“Good work with the bombs. It’ll deter the ones behind some.”

“Indeed, that was my thinking as well. Thankfully, Maerin had prepared so many.”

Maerin is lounging lazily on a chair, red in the cheeks. She clicks her tongue triumphantly, nearly fainting from her state.

Murtoa takes a breath and exhales. “Mind your heads if we’re hit. And, stay in the vehicle.”

No sooner does he say this does the human warrior climb out past Gyrryth.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING!?” shriek Coco and Lykha together.

He doesn’t answer, shimmying out of sight. Lykha yells, “GYRRYTH!”

“I trust his judgement, Gentle One.”

“What if he falls out!?”

“Or gets gobbled?” asks Coco.

Maerin jokes dumbly, “Be a was’ed rescue then, ey?”

“I’m going after him!” Gyrryth stops the younger fairy just in time before she can fly after him.

“Flight will only doom you, I’m afraid.”

The vehicle hums as the ramp opens. A deep rumble shakes the whole thing as the gate drags on the sand. The hum returns and the rumble subsides, indicating the ramp closing.

A metallic clunk clunk raps on the back of the cab.

Gyrryth says warmly, “I believe that’s our indication that he’s okay.”

Coco screams, “WE HAVIN’ GAB, LOVE! YOU AIN’T HEAR THE END O’ THIS! I’LL CHEW YOUR HEARERS RIGH’ OFF FOR THIS!”

Lykha sighs, but she screams, “LOOK OUT!”

Coco looks forward again, and the two of them scream. A fountain of sand is exploding ahead of them with apparently two of the worm-like monsters emerging from it.

BOOM!

Thunder quakes the whole vehicle, and fire bursts forward. Yellowish liquid sprays from the beasts -no, beast-. It’s then, as the monster flails to their right, giving Coco enough window to veer left, that Lykha sees it; the monster has two heads to one body.

There’s a metallic, low rumble, like a metal object being slid against another one. There’s a short delay, and then the vehicle shakes as the cannon fires again. This time, it fires behind them, given that the fireburst isn’t visible front or sideways.

Coco asks sharply, “How come no souls gabbed me there was a boomer up there?”

“I had no idea…” admits Lykha. Gyrryth replies, “An interesting observation of our knight, hmm?” He lights another bomb’s fuse, throwing it ahead of them to likely try and drive any ahead of them away or at least make them visible.

The cannon fires again, and the vehicle rocks sideways. Gyrryth pokes his head out, asking loudly, “Need you any assistance, Sir Murtoa?”

Lykha can’t hear the answer, but Gyrryth twists back into the cab. “Are you up to a challenge, m’lady Lykha?”

She gasps. “Me?”

He nods. They hang on when Coco steers the vehicle violently, but it shakes thunderously when the impact of one of the lernaetodes slams the front wheel. Fortunately, it doesn’t damage the vehicle, and she shouts, “TRICKY LITTLE GOOB! YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!”

Gyrryth explains to Lykha, “He asked for one of us to attempt enchantment of the cannon balls. I could, but I won’t be able to fit with him, and I’m not an experienced artilleryman.”

“I-...I barely know any spells! I can’t enchant anything!”

“Fortunately, it is knowledge, not inborn talent. I shall teach you the incantation. Listen and listen well.”

************************************

Murtoa of Lakia was trained for battle from a young age. Granted, that training was fairly limited initially; basic marching in formation and operating a cannon with his friends. He and Hondolon could load and ready a cannon in seconds, and Shyar could strike flint once and ignite a fuse on a rainy day.

The cannons he trained on were inexpensive; military issue. The cannon the imposter Murtoa had fitted to his sand cruiser must have been extremely expensive. It’s designed to be operated by one person from a pivoting turret, and has some sort of delivery mechanism feeding the cannon balls up from below. Additionally, the metal is an expensive alloy, meant to be enchanted by a skilled mage or spellshot with varying elements. Unlike Gyrryth’s pistols, which carry their own enchantments, and thus are limited to specific elements for each pistol, the alloy comprising the cannon balls is a passive enhancement, allowing any magical element to be attached.

He loads the powder slug and cannon ball in the same motion using both hands, closing the breach of the cannon and locking it. He pivots the turret with the hand rails, locking it with the hand brake.

“Sir Murtoa!”

Mury looks just as he grips his flint. Gyrryth has Lykha in one of his big reptilian hands. He releases the young fairy into the wind, and she hovers into Murtoa’s arms, smacking into his helmet, but managing to hold on. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine. You okay?”

“Yeah!” She’s lying. That hurt a lot. But, she’ll manage. If Mury can handle what he did, she’ll manage a bruised nose.

“Gyrryth said you want to enchant the cannon balls?”

“Can you do it?”

“Um… I-I’ll try…”

“Good enough. Hang on.” He turns back to the rear and checks his aim on the cannon.

Perched on his collar and bracing his helmet, Lykha can see now what they’re truly fleeing. The sand is roiling like a turbulent stretch of rapids in a river or a stormy sea. The flat sand is being shredded apart by vicious and angry worms the size of a tree. Like the antibodies of the Gryduke, the lernaetodes are vicious and have very little regard for each other, but they also don’t attack one another. They relentlessly pursue the vehicle of human and drakyk construction.

Murtoa strikes his flint on his gauntlet; once, twice, three times. He finally gets a spark, but it misses. One of the lernaetodes is getting dangerously close, and Lykha whines, “Muryyyy…”

He tries again, pounding the stone to his metal gauntlet, achieving sparks again. Hiss! The fuse ignites and races into the cannon, firing almost immediately. The lernaetode reaching for them explodes in a splash of yellowish liquid, vanishing soon after in the torrent of sand and roiling, tube-like bodies.

Murtoa doesn’t hesitate. He opens the breach, pulling out the next cannonball from the feeder. “What enchantment can you use?”

It’s almost meaningless, given the situation, but… did he assume she knew? Or did he assume Gyrryth taught her just now?

Either way, she says quickly, “I can enchant with wind!”

Yes! Wind because it’s what you asked for. Please tell me it’s okay…

“That’ll work. Please do.” He holds the cannonball at the ready with a powder slug behind it, ready to load the instant Lykha is done.

She rubs her hands together with a nod, lowering down his armor carefully to reach the cannon ball. She dare not forget the spell Gyrryth just taught her.

“Wistries and Frostlings dance in the sky, bring a gust and a breeze and don’t be shy!” She has to also channel her magic in a way she’s not used to, but Gyrryth prepared her for it. Her body begins to feel hot to her very core, and she can hear laughter around her.

A whisper to her left. Don’t look. Gyrryth said not to look.

We won’t hurt you, cute one.

Yes, you are cute. A tiny magic wielder.

Don’t look. Don’t talk to them. Spirits are chaos incarnate.

She feels a strange tickle crawl across her body and a tingle on her cheek, sliding towards her lips. She closes her mouth firmly, staying focused.

You need not resist, tiny cutie. Our embrace is gentle and loving.

Don’t talk to them. Just wait.

The other voice teases more tenderly as the strange tingle traces down her stomach, How I would love to meet you personally.

The tickle at her lips stays in place for a long time, and she whimpers nervously.

Suddenly, though, the cannonball begins to glow with a swirling wind around it.

We’ll meet again, cutie.

I hope you’ll keep us in your heart. A tingle swirls on her chest before fading like a wind relenting.

Lykha exhales deeply, “Done…” She’s barely audible over the noise around them.

Murtoa shoves the cannonball and powder slug into the cannon in a swift motion and slams the breach closed right behind. He aims forward, swinging the cannon around quickly and causing Lykha to feel nauseous. Though, maybe that’s what just happened with the spell.

“GYRRYTH!”

The lizardman pokes his head out after tossing another bomb forward. “I am here!”

“TELL COCO TO STAY ON COURSE AND RIDE THE EFFECT!”

“As you wish!”

Murtoa strikes the flint over and over, igniting the fuse after several tries.

The cannon fires.

The shell hits the sand ahead of them, and from it, rises a cyclonic storm of wind and sand.

Suddenly, Lykha is wrapped in a strong grip that’s rather painful, and she’s rapidly pulled down into the vehicle cab of the cruiser, and the human warrior braces against the cargo netting as he holds Lykha to his chest.

The young fairy’s heart races and color fills her cheeks.

The wind, however, ruins the moment when it grows louder. And then, Lykha’s stomach floats.

Once more, she can’t control her stomach. And, as before, it ends up all over her first and closest friend outside of the fairy village.

They are flying through the air, and the gravity shifts in the opposite direction. It’s all she can do to clutch to his armor, whimpering.

They cruise a long distance through the air, as evidenced by the lack of tire and skid noises. They hit the ground with a solid thud, but much softer than a straight fall -exactly what the sand cruiser is designed for-. Lykha yelps, dry heaving once again, but producing nothing this time.

She murmurs wearily, “I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologizing. Our work isn’t easy.”

She looks up at Murtoa as he relaxes his grip some. Her eyes are watering, but his voice never raised. His presence is calm and collected, and he’s more focused on listening. He sits her in one of the seats, explaining, “Hang on to the netting if you get unsteady.” He starts to climb back up to the turret, and Lykha squeaks, “Wait! W-will you need help?”

“No. Just checking.”

He climbs up, looking around. He climbs back down, saying, “We’re almost to the bank. That was more effective than I expected.”

The young fairy blinks at him, surprised. Was that a compliment?

“I’m going back to the front.”

“Wait! You-you can’t leave me!”

“You’ll likely be just as safe back-...”

“NO! I-... I’ll ride in your bag.” She points nervously. He looks, and she adds, “I-If you don’t mind…”

He stares at her a moment. “Are you sure?”

She wipes her eyes, nodding. “I might see something someone else doesn’t…”

“Fair. Okay.” He picks her up rather indelicately, putting her into his bag. When she tries to peek her head out, he says, “No. Stay down. The sand will damage your eyes.”

The fairy’s eyes widen, and she nods, slipping back down inside his bag. She can only wait and listen as his small collection of trinkets jingle around her. Come to think of it, this is the first time she’s seen some of the items -which, to be fair, are all new-.

As soon as the ramp opens, the noise is roaring, and the bag shakes as Mury starts his climb outside.

She understands immediately. The sand blasting the bag has a distinct, scraping noise that she can only imagine on her cheeks and eyes. Additionally, some is raining down into her hair and tunic, in spite of the leather flap covering her.

The bag shakes again, and she feels queasy, but she resolves to conquer herself for once, forcing herself to keep it down. She tries to focus and clear her mind.

“The flute, Lykha! Pass me the flute!”

She jumps with a start. She looks around in a panic. She finds a metal tube with holes drilled in it. She shoves it out of the gap in the side of the bag’s flap, shouting, “Here!”

“Thanks!”

She connects the dots only after he pulls it away from her. “WAIT! You’re going to summon another Nightenmael!?”

“No. Do you have any magic left?”

“Um… I think I can manage one more small spell, why?”

“Light me.”

“YOU ARE!”

“I’m not. Light it, quickly!”

The fairy growls. The only thing stronger in her than her fear of what he could do is her trust in the human warrior. She shields her face, peeking out to find the small wooden barrel with the flute in it -just like the call for the nightenmael-. She ignores the thought, though, lighting the fuse. “LIT!”

“Thanks!”

The human warrior haphazardly tosses the item away, though in a low toss. She tries to watch it as it lands in the sand, but the cloud of sand behind them obscures it soon after.

However, a loud whistle breaks through the noise, maintaining for a long time. In fact, it has no melody; just a long, loud noise continuously. The nightenmael call had a slow, shifting tune to its noise.

Suddenly, much of the wind and noise dies down as Mury’s bag swings and shakes some more. She feels like she’s tossed to the ground, and she yells, “Hey!” She leaps out of the bag, finding herself on the middle seat of the front cab of the cruiser, right next to Coco. She looks around, and finds Gyrryth helping Murtoa into the cab. Mury squeezes in, careful of both Maerin and Lykha as he squeezes in near Coco.

Coco cheers, “Nice shoo’in’, Love! Leafed us right up so we birdie righ’ o’er our jumbles!”

“Lykha made it possible. Keep us at top speed and take the slope at an angle, or we’ll lose traction when the lower edges give.”

“Angle, Love?”

Murtoa makes a hand gesture with his arm, saying, “Like this; somewhat sideways. It’ll take longer, but we shouldn’t lose traction.”

“Gotcha!” The teen navigates the vehicle to carefully take the slope.

“Got any spells left?” Mury looks over to Gyrryth. The lizardman spellshot replies, “Actually, I do. We’re out of our Lady Maerin’s explosives.”

The inebriated fairy says dopily, “Tha’ll be 10 silvs a bomb. Or… Mm… I’ll giv ya 7 per, for you...” Her eyelids look heavy as she lays face down on the right passenger seat.

“Not a problem. Bill me when we’re done. Gyrryth, if any of them take to the slope behind us…”

“I shall not let them pursue us above the bank. Count on it.”

“I am.”

“What about the cannon?” asks Lykha.

“Out of ammo.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. The one chance on a new spell she had was the only chance.

“Coco, I’m counting on your driving. Keep us steady, but use your instincts. If we start to fall, do something else. Just keep us moving.”

The teen blushes with a dumbfounded expression on her face. It quickly dissolves into her usual confident -even arrogant- grin, and she says proudly, “O’ course, Love! As shoul’ be booked for the paperbox o’ your belo’ed wife! Heeheehee!” The teen pulls one of the levers above her, standing up to reach, and it pitches the vehicle’s back end down some. She flips it back immediately, though, which pitches the nose down. She shouts at the window, as if the monsters can hear her, “YOU HEAR THA’ GOOBS!? YOU AIN’ GOT NOTHIN’ BUT PRIGGLES IN YER TAILHOLE!”

Murtoa says gently to Lykha, “We’re in the final stretch. It’ll be okay.”

She realizes she’s clutching her hands together in front of her chest, and she looks up at him. She murmurs tenderly, “Thanks…”

He nods.

Coco is a diligent driver, grunting as she steers against the shifting sands. Gyrryth fires one of his fire pistols, explaining, “Just in case.”

“It’s fine.”

Murtoa is calm, and his calmness, his confidence is infectious. Coco has no fear, driving with white-knuckle determination. Gyrryth -who is typically rather refined to begin with- is also unconcerned and focused. Maerin is so calm, she’s passed out on the seat.

And Lykha, the young fairy captured virtually immediately upon leaving her village, feels a calmness in her own heart; a stone to hold onto in a swirling sea.

Of course, nothing in life is always so cut and dry.

A head peaks over the bank ahead.

A gigantic head.

A head belonging to a monster Lykha doesn’t recognize, but strikes fear into her heart.

Dragon!

“Silveryourd forward!”

Gyrryth whirls, shielding his face from the sand blowing across him. “Mid size?”

“Looks like it. Any more lightning spells?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“What do I do!?” calls Coco.

There’s a brief pause, and Gyrryth answers, “Stay on course.”

The lizardman spellshot draws one of the distinctive pistols from his shoulder.

“The Holy Order won’t ignore it.”

“I am prepared.”

Just as the lizardman starts speaking in a cold and shadowy tongue, Lykha cries out, “Wait! What about one of Coco’s flashers!?”

The silveryourd has spotted them, and it roars, lumbering over the hill to confront them with a rooster-like stalking gait.

Coco calls out, “IN MY BIGKET! MAIN POUCH!”

“The slope!” adds Murtoa.

“Indeed!” replies Gyrryth.

Lykha digs the flasher out of Coco’s bag, and she passes it to Murtoa. The human warrior, in turn, passes it to Gyrryth as the spellshot swaps to his other fire pistol. He activates the flasher, throwing it as hard as his reptilian arms can, and it blinks over and over, startling the reptilian avian as it watches the light.

With it distracted, Gyrryth fires his pistol at the ground at its feet, disrupting the sand with a small, fiery explosion. The sand shifts under the silveryourd, and it tries to stumble free.

Coco shouts, “BALL! SAME POUCH! HIT THE BUT’ON THIS GO ‘FORE PITCHIN’, LOVE!”

Lykha digs out the metal ball with a button on it.

“I got it,” retorts Murtoa almost mechanically. Coco stands up straight, and the human warrior deftly slides behind her, kicking the door open so he can hang out the side. He launches the ball with force as Coco steers uphill of the draconic monster.

It roars at him, but as soon as the device hits, it sparks, emitting an air wave for approximately one second before it suddenly ‘pops’, thundering a powerful purple flash that trails thunder bolts.

It looks more impressive than it actually ends up being, but it’s enough to stumble the silveryourd down the hill. And, with the cruiser passing by it above it, the sand collapsing down the hill grips the stunned monster, tumbling it down the hill.

Enraged, hungry parasites the size of trees find the silveryourd. It’s larger than they are, but the bird-like reptilian is far outnumbered. It thrashes back to its feet, roaring in anger. Lykha watches through the window as it ferociously spits a liquid from its mouth, which drives several of the lernaetodes back as they dissolve. Others slam it with their bodies or bite it with their razor sharp teeth.

The silveryourd fights desperately as it shrinks into the distance.

The cruiser crests the hill, leaving behind the chaos behind them. Murtoa instructs, “Head north now. We’ll stop for a break after a few miles.”

“Aye, Love! Leave it to me!”

The teen drives the vehicle as instructed, and Murtoa and Gyrryth both carefully settle into the cab. Murtoa carefully scoops Maerin up, holding her in his lap.

Lykha takes a seat on his lap next to the unconscious fairy, shaking her head in amusement. She murmurs, “She said she didn’t want to die sober.”

“They say drunken fairies are good luck.”

Lykha looks up at him, surprised. “You made that up. You didn’t even know what fairies were when we met.”

“We’re alive aren’t we?”

Lykha smiles. “Yeah… I suppose we are…”

She relaxes in her position on Murtoa’s lap, deep in thought.

***********************************