Rune and Ruin

18 - A Falcon and a Dove

391 B.C.E. - Bandittica, Ruins of the City of Caere, Island of the Fyrrin, Coast of the Tasurian Peninsula, Spring, Month of Maius

Falx

Noise erupts in my ears, as sudden as a cloudburst. I feel Tems arrive, but I don't spare him a glance as he gently removes Thania from my arms. I keep my eyes on Ulster, knowing that my priestess, my love, the female my demon thinks is a goddess, wants this male to live.

Disappointing.

"Do you yield?" I ask the defeated general. Both his wings are broken, both arms, one wrist. I'm only glad I kept enough of his limbs intact that he could kill Corrine.

A faint horror flashes on his face. Not a surprise, I think he knew that he would lose this fight, but he couldn't have foreseen this outcome. Ulster would never have guessed that I would emerge from our battle virtually unscathed. That he would live. That his duplicitous cousin, the high Lady of Rune, Corrine of House Rinoan, would die at his hands.

Nothing in Ulster's arrogance would have allowed him to believe that he would have to surrender.

"Yes," he finally replies after a long moment. On his knees next to Corrine, Ulster bows his head to me.

The roar of the crowd nearly overpowers the deafening rainstorm. The heckling of jeers, jubilation, and disbelief all mix as I regain the entirety of Rune's Flight. I start to laugh, shouting my victory to my warriors. "Fyrrin!" I bellow, and the crowd echos back.

My demon unfurls, this time as part of the celebration that is beginning, all over the hill of the Banditiccia. His eyes seek out his hatchling, safe in his bodyslaves hands, then... his female.

My female. My bonded love. I lick my lips, feeling the dry, cracked scales and hoping that I won't hurt her soft, dewy skin when I ravish her to celebrate my victory. I will be careful.

"Come, love," I beckon Thania to me with an outstretched claw, the rain washing away Ulster's blood. Wide, grey eyes stare at me. I crook my fingers, and she takes a tentative step out of Tems's arms toward me.

Another step, and suddenly, right in front of my eyes, she becomes gods-struck.

Her spine straightens, unnaturally rigid. Her eyes bleed black as she gazes at me, her pupils tiny pinpricks of light brighter than the stars on a moonless night. Her hair drips with water, and her robes, once the bright sea blue, have darkened to wraith-grey from the rain.

The storm stops, and the clouds clear, revealing a deep purple-grey sky as dusk falls over the Banditiccia. Thania's lips, soft and dead-white, part.

"It is time, Falcon."

In my victory, my prize should come to me, but I find myself taking a step, fear for Thania scorching my already-burning insides. "Who are you?" I ask cautiously, my eyes examining my female as she shivers from the force of supernatural possession.

"What will the falcon do if his prey is taken?," she responds in a whisper so dry I swallow convulsively.

"Do not harm my female," I murmur, moving closer. I feel Quintus at my shoulder, his chest moving up and down as rapidly as Thania's while his hands twitch at his sides, claws fully extended.

"They will seek the mother-mark. They will seek to steal the doves in her hand. The world will break again. Bring Ruin, Falcon. Before the seekers come."

I catch her as she collapses. Across the Banditticia, utter silence has fallen. As I lift my sweet female into my arms, I hear the first whisper catch the breeze.