It’s funny, what you can remember. Both the good and the bad. I feel like most would say that they remember the unimportant things. The simple things that stood out as just slightly apart from routine. Those things that stand out from the norm without actually breaking it.
Then again, what was routine for me was certainly extreme by another’s standard. I spent as much time fighting as I didn’t and those are certainly the memories I’ve held onto the strongest. I can’t honestly say it’s with an unbiased eye that I look back upon them, either. In the end, the only one who can deny or validate a memory is the one who experiences it.
Rainbow hues reflected off my armour as I flipped and dodged about, looking for an opportunity to attack. I moved a little easier with my greaves and bracers than I had without them, but my defense was lacking against attacks that could penetrate my cloak. What I really wanted was a helmet, but whatever blessing sometimes bestowed me my armour didn’t seem to particularly care for what I wanted from it.
In any case, the problem was this Wyvern. A durable one, covered in bony spines and possessing a long, whip-like tail. My fire could burn them away, but it took a moment to do so. A moment in which I could easily be pierced by what were probably poisonous spines.
So we danced with one another. My sword cut more spines with each pass, never reaching deep enough to score the flesh beneath. The Wyvern whipped around, shaking its quills back and forth and never quite managing to grab my leg or arm with its tail.
It was a battle of attrition, my empowered stamina versus its irritable personality.
Another swing and another few spines fell from its body. I danced away as usual while it tried and failed to catch me in its drooling maw. The creature let out a frustrated roar, splashing spittle towards me. It had reached the end of its patients and charged, abandoning any pretense to defense in favour of a reckless strength. The wyvern spread its underdeveloped wings, balancing its body low to the ground and widening its profile so it would be harder to circle. Its claws hidden within those wings were positioned such that they could strike should I come too close.
I backed away further than usual in response to the change in the creature’s routine. When it charged, I readied myself to meet it, feet planted, knees slightly bent, more able to quickly jump in any direction. I held my sword in both hands, blade pointing down and forward from between my hips. I stood in profile to reduce the area of my body exposed to the charging monster and I waited.
Charging at me, the monster’s head was vulnerable and its spines mostly pointed the other way. I raised my sword, blade flashing white with cleansing fire, and let it impale itself upon me as it ran blindly forward. My knees nearly buckled under the force of its momentum as hilt met jaw, my feet skidding in the dirt. All the while, the its limbs and body thrashed in its death throes. I would still have been struck a heavy blow, had it not been for my cloak.
Its attacks became slower and more feeble, before stopping altogether as its insides turned to ash. I finished the job and purified what was left of its poisonous body with my flame.
“Good job!”
I turned around and raised my sword to the interloper, but dropped it to my side once I saw what she was.
The girl wore black blouse and trousers with silver lining, underneath armour of dull silver that covered her collar and one arm. She had a skirt of chain over her legs that reached to the knee and she held in one hand a truly massive, ornate bow that had the look of bone.
“I thought I might need to help when I saw you were having trouble with the spines, but you handle yourself well.”
The girl had a sisterly voice, one that would perhaps become motherly has she grew older but for now still held onto the passion of youth. She moved closer as she talked, eventually stopping perhaps a dozen steps away.
“I am known as Fenja.” She smiled. From this distance I could make out her black hair and black eyes. She carried no quiver despite her bow. “By what name do you go?”
I considered for a moment. I had never really thought about how to identify myself before meeting Fenja and somehow just saying ‘Anna’ didn’t seem quite right. Fenja was obviously not using a given name, but rather one which she had taken upon herself. Perhaps, I thought, I should do the same?
“I must be the daughter of fire,” I replied. “So call me Eisa.”
There we were, two giants in the flesh, or so our names claimed. I was tall for a girl but by no means did I dwarf those around me. Menja was shorter than I. Though to look at her bow, she must have had the strength of a giant.
“Listen. Have you ever encountered a Valkyrie of Lightning with golden hair?”
“No...sorry.” This time the look in her eyes was a sad one. I saw that Valkyrie so many years ago that I had no real hope of finding her, but something within me couldn’t help but ask.
"So,” I began, trying to break the awkward silence. “What brings you to these parts, Fenja?”
“I travel around here and there, mostly hunting them in the wilderness. This time though? I’ve found a nest of wyverns not far from here. Dozens of hatchlings and at least one brood mother to have laid the eggs in the first place. I heard tales of you in the area and I was hoping for some extra muscle to clear it out, so I came here to seek you out.”
I eyed her bow again. “More like you want someone to stand between you and the wyverns to slow them down when they come running at you.”
“I’ll admit, the thought had crossed my mind,” she said with a grim smile.
“Well since you’re so up front about it.” I grinned myself and held out my arm. “let’s work together.”
We grasped each other’s arm and squeezed.
I look back and remember Fenja fondly. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was one of the good ones. A Valkyrie who really put her all into protecting the people she met on her travels. I was better to have known her and would probably have been better off still had I met her sooner, known her longer.
The nest was on the edge of a cliff about an hour away from town. It had a rocky outcropping to one side and, with the cliff to its back, could only really be approached from one side. All the same, it was a large space that comfortably fit two dozen hatchlings.
These wyverns were too young to have developed the bony horns and spikes typical of their kind, nor did they seem to be quilled like my earlier hunt. Even so, each was nearly as large as I was, shorter but with body drawn forward like a bird might do. There wings were still small, but it was not the stunted smallness common among their kind. The wing membrane was rubbery and unbroken. If they matured, these hatchlings would fly.
I approached with the cliff to my right and a steep incline to my left which ended in a dense brush. The hatchlings were careless of their surroundings; no sensible creature would ever attack a Wyvern nest. So it wasn’t until I stood on the ring of shattered bone that marked the nest’s edge that their attention was drawn upon me. One started yelping, a high-pitched whine, then another, and before long the whole nest followed suit.
I readied my sword, holding it in one hand pointing outward and slightly down, hilt at level with my shoulder. The wyverns were clumsy, but there were enough of them to overwhelm me if I fought carelessly.
Suddenly, an explosion of ice erupted from the hatchling closest to me. Fenja’s first arrow pierced the neck of wyvern. It’s body turned black with cold as frost began to cover it, even while it radiated snow. Just like that, the floodgate was unleashed. Some of the wyverns tried to run into the trees from where Fenja’s arrow had come, using their small wings to more easily scale the slope in their way. Most instead chose the closer target that I presented.
They were clumsy, but eager for me. They moved deceptively fast, climbing over one another with the wyverns furthest back pushed their closer siblings forward. I thrust with my sword and lanced one through the chest, the point of my blade extending in a blaze of glorious fire. Another jumped from behind it and was merely disfigured with a sweep across the face too shallow to slay it. The third and fourth came around from either side of it and forced me to step back, relying upon the heat of my cloak to keep them at bay as much as my sword.
With a quick glance to the hill I could see three more frozen hatchlings on the hillside while yet more still climbed. One wyvern had tried to use its brother as a foothold, only for its wing and claw to freeze firmly in place where it touched. It whined as it struggled in vain to pull itself free. I saw that the others stayed well away from their dead siblings.
Meanwhile, I fought defensively, each time a wyvern lunged at me, I met it with my blade. Sometimes I killed it outright. Sometimes I unhooked a jaw or slashed off a wing or a tail. Each wound I inflicted was seared shut and did not bleed. Just as well. This much toxic blood would surely poison the surrounding area if it ran free.
There were only a few hatchlings left now. At least, only a few left that could fight. I kicked the broken jaw of one that came back for seconds and beheaded it with my sword. The burning pile of corpses around me had grown to levels that it was hard to move out of it, while the hillside was similarly littered with blackened bodies and a growing blanket of snow.
That’s when we heard the roar.
Normally, a wyvern makes a yelping sound. It’s sort of like that of a dog’s, only its deeper and it carries a lot further. Some of the really nasty ones have a screech with such a high pitch that it can make your ears bleed and throw off your balance.
This one? It was to a bear what the regular call was to a dog. Deep and loud enough that it rattled about my head, causing it to throb. A shadow passed briefly overhead despite the clouds in the sky and then, with a heavy drop, it landed.
Mother was larger than a horse, with a tail as long as her body and a wingspan that dwarfed either. The bony growths on her back more closely resembled plates than horns. Her head was dominated by her mouth, a massive maw filled with row after row of sharp teeth. The bone-plates on her tail had serrated edges that stood out from its bulk.
She whipped her tail at me with startling speed, heedless of her spawn. Dead and injured hatchlings went flying as I jumped into the air. I was too slow to avoid the attack, but I managed to absorb it with the flat of my blade. There was a deep, metallic sound like a hammer meeting an anvil and then I was sent flying into the hillside.
I was fortunate that I hadn’t been thrown off the cliff. It was a damn miracle that I still held my sword. But for all my good fortune I had been stunned from the impact all the same. My body felt weak, my head rang and my arm was numb, even as I looked at the enraged wyvern before me.
It took only a single step forwards before Fenja intervened. Her arrow bounced off the mother’s foot, unable to pierce her heavy armour, but frost formed where the arrow struck. The foot froze to the ground for a moment, but it was with almost casual ease that the monster ripped its frozen limb up and into the air. It was too strong to become stuck in place and the cold didn’t penetrate deep enough to sap away its strength.
The distraction was long enough for me to catch my breath and climb to my feet, but my arm still felt numb. It was hard to position my sword or to say whether I held it with any real strength behind it. I instead focused on reaching less vulnerable ground, on putting myself between the rocks that marked the far end of the nest and the hill that led into the forest. I’d never climb that hill fast enough to get away from the mother, but here, at least, there was little chance of being thrown from the cliff.
More arrows rained down upon the wyvern, faster than they had against its children. I suppose it made for a much larger target, though not an easier one as the ricocheting missiles attested to. Fenja’s frost did serve to slow it down, but her attacks seemed to do no real damage to the creature.
The broodmother picked up a rock the size of my head with its tail and hurled it into the woods, towards the source of the arrows, with the force to knock down trees. The sound of crashing timber echoed out from the forest.
I adjusted my sword into a somewhat clumsy two-handed grip, favouring my off-hand for the moment, as the mother returned her gaze to me. She attacked me with head and claw, while her tail continued to return boulders to the arrows that pelted her ineffectually.
I dodged between her attacks, using strength more than finesse to move quickly, and rapidly closed the distance between us. Perhaps my boldness caught her off-guard. More likely she didn’t consider me a credible threat. My sword sunk perhaps a finger span into the bony plate that covered her breast, leaving behind a black, smoking scar. Surprised or not, the monster was fast and its counter-attack vicious. She reached down as if to bite my head off from my shoulders. I ducked down and rolled, but her maw followed through and I was once again only narrowly saved by my mantle of flame. Her mouth was so close to my face that I could see blisters appear inside of it, forcing her to snap her jaws shut prematurely. I then found myself between her legs.
I quickly slashed to each side. Each strike sunk deep but the wyvern stayed standing. As the smoke cleared from the first wound on her belly, I saw only a shallow gash that failed to penetrate through bone. Perhaps her armour was less effective against fire than ice, but it was more than thick enough to make up for the difference.
I moved to the outside of one leg as the wyvern attempted to catch me in her claws. She immediately thrashed her head down once more, this time trying to strike me with the bladed edge of her horns. I dodged this too and cut into the outside of her thigh. I immediately tried to put a second strike in the same spot, but the wyvern’s body shifted and that scar moved just out of reach.
I knew the mouth was vulnerable, but the creature wouldn’t expose that weakness to prey that could exploit it. Was there anything else that she was keeping out of reach?
“Aim for the wings!” I called out. Perhaps a second later, an arrow pierced the rubbery membrane of one wing. It stuck within the flesh rather than exit through the other side of the comparatively thin material. Cold and snow immediately began to flow from the embedded missile. The wyvern let out another roar and began to flap its wings, creating a cloud of dust as it slowly build enough lift to take flight. The first arrow was shaken loose by the movement, along with flakes of frozen flesh, but two more arrows had taken its place.
While the creature was distracted I vaulted into the air and onto its back, careful of the sharp edges of its bone-like armour. It couldn’t attack me with its head without risking a fall from the air and it wasn’t yet high enough to maneuver in the hopes of shaking me lose. I slashed at its neck, just above where it met the body, and left a black scar where my blade passed. I cut again in the same place. And again. by the fifth strike the plate had begun to crack around the ugly gash.
The monster threw one last boulder at Fenja before its tail whipped towards me once more. I used the gash as a handhold and hugged tight to its neck, rolling half-way over the creature’s shoulder and hanging where its tail couldn’t quick reach. from here I made more slashes, this time at the nape of its neck. my one-handed cuts were weak and clumsy and the heat of my weapon did most of the work. With a dozen cuts I had a gash that resembled the one on the top, albeit messier.
With each arrow that Fenja shot, the flight became more turbulent as the wyvern compensated against the damage to its wings with more and more power. We were perhaps 10 meters above the woods that Fenja hid in., the monster’s flight unsteady and plain. I expected that it would try to throw me off if it were able, but it seemed struggle in finding the additional push it needed with its damaged wings.
I continued to slash at her nape, slowly making my gash wider and deeper, while Fenja continued to take chunks out of her wings. With a third roar, the mother wyvern gave up on trying to keep in the air and turned her body downwards into short but devastating dive. She aimed her massive form at the source of Fenja’s arrows, while busying her head with me.
My position at her neck was almost as hard for her horns to reach as it was for her tail. Perhaps if she risked opening her mouth she could bite me, but I was more worried about the impending fall. I abandoned my attacks and turned my attention to the incoming trees and the to wyvern's tail. I allowed myself to dropped the rest of the way over her shoulder and pushed off against her collar, away from beast and straight into the branches of a large ash tree.
By the time I stopped I was sore and bruised, but the foliage had broken my fall. I recollected myself for the second time in a short while and approached the mother wyvern.
It was pinned to the ground beneath fallen trees and arrows both. Blood leaked out from tears in its wings but its body still appeared to be intact. It was still, probably winded from the fall, but it breathed still.
Fenja stood nearby, not looking much better that I felt. She was covered in twigs and dirt and seemed to be favouring one leg. Perhaps a casualty of the earlier rocks. I returned my attention to the fallen monster and methodically approached its head. A single open eye stared at me, iris narrowing as it focused on me, but the wyvern did not stir. I knelt beside it, readying my sword in both hands, and plunged the blade into a nostril, right up to the hilt. My fire seared flesh and brain. The mother’s eye went vague and its gaze dropped to the ground.
I pulled free my sword and stabbed again on the other side.
