A Call for Brighter Days: Aeriel Trilogy #2

The deafening roar of an energy shell detonating made Ruban’s ears ring. He brought the SUV to a screeching halt behind a cluster of sal trees and leapt out, his sifblade in one hand and a pistol in the other. Simani flung open the opposite door and stepped out of the vehicle, similarly armed.

The sun was setting into the horizon, and the sight of the devastated meadow sent a chill down Ruban’s spine. They’d decided on these deserted fields on the outskirts of Ragah as the perfect spot for an encounter with the feather mafia, because there was little risk of any civilians getting caught in the crossfire. But no amount of planning and strategizing could have prepared him for the numerous uneven craters that littered the ground and the stench of burned grass in the air. The few trees left standing would provide little cover in the event of an attack.

The flash of another detonating energy shell in the distance told Ruban that an attack was currently underway. Exchanging a glance with Simani, he tightened his grip on his weapons and sprinted for cover deeper into the meadow. If they were still fighting, that at least meant Ashwin was alive.

Ruban found cover behind a lone sal tree further into the field, which had once been part of a larger cluster of trees. Now, only one of them was left standing. He skipped over broken branches, jagged roots, and other debris, before pressing himself up against the massive trunk and extracting the small military binoculars from his pocket. The tree wouldn’t provide much by way of protection if an Aeriel decided it wanted him dead, but Ruban hoped to escape their notice until he had a better sense of their position and numbers.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Simani had taken up position behind some dense shrubs about five meters away. She held a sifkren in each hand and seemed to be contemplating the perfect angle for the first strike. Steeling himself, Ruban focused on his own investigation of the battlefield. Distraction was not a luxury he could afford tonight.

As the smoke and dust from the last energy shell cleared, Ruban caught his first glimpse of Ashwin. He tightened his grip on the binoculars and pressed himself harder against the tree trunk, trying to get a better view.

Ashwin flew a few feet above the ground, being circled by two Aeriels while some leather-clad thugs below clumsily threw sifblades at him. He dodged these attacks easily enough while keeping his eyes fixed on the Aeriels, one of whom was an X-class. The air around the three Aeriels crackled with energy and Ruban tensed instinctively, bracing himself.

The night sky lit up with the tell-tale flash of an energy shell, the ground reverberating with the impact of the detonation. Ashwin went careening backwards. Wings flared to absorb the impact of the shell, his right hand was outstretched in a gesture that Ruban recognized immediately. The air sizzled and sparks flew around Ashwin’s fingertips. He was about to attack.

Less than ten meters behind Ashwin, the glint of a sifblade caught Ruban’s eye. Between one moment and the next, the blade was in the air, zipping towards Ashwin, who was too focused on the other Aeriels and his own energy shell to notice an attack from the humans below.

A shot rang out, and Ruban noted belatedly that he had pulled the trigger. Knocked off its trajectory by his bullet, the sifblade was now lying harmlessly in a crater close to the combatants. Ashwin whirled, directing the energy shell at the thug who had attacked him. The man was lifted off his feet by the force of the blast and hurled into the tree behind which Ruban was hiding.

Upon impact with the sturdy tree trunk, Ruban heard his skull crack. The man collapsed to the ground, his scorched corpse unmoving.

A pair of sifkren flew out from the nearby shrubs, catching the X-class in the wings. With a piercing screech, it collapsed. This left Ashwin and the other Aeriel to face off against each other, as the gangsters redirected their attention to the newly-arrived Hunters.

Shots rang out in quick succession. Ruban spared a glance at Simani before jumping into the fray. There was no point hiding anymore, and he prayed that backup would arrive soon. An X-class wouldn’t be killed by a couple of sifkren. And Ruban didn’t want to find out what would happen when it recovered enough to rejoin the fight. The odds were sufficiently stacked against them, as it was.

Excluding the dead gangster, there were seven humans in the mafia’s Hunting party. They probably hadn’t expected they’d need more manpower hunting down a single scout from Vaan.

Working together, Ruban and Simani made quick work of the first few thugs who attacked them. Energy shells rang out in the distance but Ruban was too busy with his own fight to pay much attention to Ashwin’s.

By the time he noticed the felled X-class struggling upright, its eyes fixed on Simani, it was too late. Ruban’s blood froze. He bellowed a warning at his partner, who was fighting a muscled thug at least twice her size.

She drove her sifblade into the man’s belly – despite being made of sif, it was essentially a dagger – and turned. Paralyzed, Ruban watched her eyes widen as she registered the energy shell flying towards her.

A flurry of movement in the air, and another shell zipped into Ruban’s line of sight. A couple of meters away from Simani, the two shells collided and detonated at once, allowing her a few precious seconds to leap for cover.

Blinded by the blast, Ruban caught only a glimpse of Ashwin as he flew past him. He casually gutted the two gangsters Ruban had been fighting before the Aeriel attacked Simani, then landed gracefully in front of the X-class and delivered a blow that sent his opponent careening backwards.

Grabbing the opportunity, Ruban threw his sifblade. A moment later, the X-class fell back, the sifblade embedded in its chest. A burst of light issued forth from the wound, then they were plunged back into darkness once again. The Aeriel was dead.

He glanced at Ashwin, whose eyes were fixed on the Aeriel that remained in the air. With a flap of his wings, Ashwin was off the ground, zipping towards his opponent as Ruban watched.

“Why didn’t you kill it?” Simani’s voice jerked him out of his reverie. She dashed forward to pull Ruban’s sifblade out of the dead Aeriel’s chest. “That Aeriel. It was standing right there, beside the X-class. In fact, why didn’t it kill us? I know it had the opportunity to.”

“I think we’re on the same side, for now.” His heart thundering against his ribcage, Ruban grabbed the sifblade Simani held out to him. The familiar solidity of the carved hilt was a comfort, an anchor in the storm. “How many are left?”