And then, there was motion. She shot out like a bullet from beside me. And I didn’t even feel the stir of wind. Like a phantom that left only faint outlines in dark corridors, Fangira left barely an indent on the fallen snow. It was only when her fists banged against a bright flame of white could I see what was happening. She had knocked out two soldiers on the ground, and hit against something invisible. What was that?

Fangira got knocked back like a magnet repelled in mid-air, but landed like a true gymnast right in front of the rock on which Finora was perched. And glared at me.

Finora dropped back to the ground and said, “They stopped before the boundary.”

“And we all know whose fault that is!” Fangira said. “You traitor! Do you work for them?”

I moved out of the nice cosy awning of the larch, and stepped out into the uncanny moonlight. No point in hiding, since all of the soldiers were down anyway, and Fangira violently pointed towards where I was hidden.

“I can assure you, Miss Fangira, I barely know and understand who I am! I can hardly figure out my own motives.” I spoke.

“That makes you even more dangerous!”

“What did I do? If anything, you two are the most dangerous little girls that there are. You’re killing all these nice men.”

“We were not trying to kill anyone, stupid. We were trying to send them back!”

“You can still send them back,” I supposed. “These woods are a maze! So, they will go back and report that two weird women ambushed them and shooed them away. And that will be that. They can’t possibly come back here again, without guides like you.”

“Unfortunately,” Fangira replied. “They are not simple patrols. Somehow, they have a mechanism of figuring out where each other is.”

She bent down and put her hand on the ground, closing her eyes.

“Five minutes,” she said. She opened her eyes, straightened back up, and looked towards me with an eyebrow cocked. “I hate spilling blood in the forest for no reason. It makes the trees all weird and draws unnecessary attention. I want you to know that you are the reason for this. If only you learnt to shut up, Crow.”

“Croaking like a Crow is an art,” I said, bowing. “And I’m an artist. Can’t help it.”

The soldiers were stirring. Most of the back ones, at least. A few shields scraped the snow and armors clinked. I thought it was like getting up after inhaling an anaesthetic, though I can’t possibly tell how I would know what that felt like.

Fangira didn’t wait on any unnecessary ceremony. She dropped one knee to the ground, her hands reaching down into the snow. Bands of light began circling around her forearms and shins. And that rising high pitched hum like that of a small jet engine began.

She dashed across the distance, something like a fifty odd meters, in less than a second. She knocked out one, two, then three soldiers in (what I assume were) lethal strikes even before some could find their footing.

They crumpled, the armors shattering to the ground. Two of them rolled and skid on the snow till their bodies came to a stop on the trunk of a tree.

But her fourth strike hit something like an invisible shield, and it burst the air with that blazing white light again. It repelled her again, and she backflipped herself back to where she started.

And just then, one of the soldiers flared up in flames. Bright white again. I was starting to see the pattern there.

His eyes and skin, just like the snow around him, began to melt.

Even I had to shade my eyes.

“That was some strike,” I said.

“It wasn’t me,” Fangira replied.

Suddenly, a current of white light rippled through the snow. Like glowing smoke. Many of the soldiers jolted awake. With quick and sharp movement, they hopped on their feet, and began to organize. And amongst them, one in specific. The one right at the end of the column. The one that was the farthest away from the trap. He wielded in his hand a pendant that was attached to a chain which was around his neck. And the pendant was glowing bright white. Ah, so that was the one.

“Arara,” Fangira sighed. And then shouted, “What is this? Now they send an Arch Magus to this forest?”

“Stand! Make your stand! Draw your swords!” the soldiers kept shouting.

“Go back!” Fangira shouted back. “You do nothing but destroy peace! Leave now, and live!”

“Be quiet! Spawn of the Devil!” the ‘Arch Magus’ said. What a strange title. “The Demons of Sloth and Pride! Demons of the Forest begone! We hear not your foul words. You are monsters, who take from humanity.”

The soldiers scampered back. Well trained, I should say. They formed a layer with their shields. Most didn’t even pick up their packs and their lanterns, which lay scattering light all over the snow. They dug their shields, and formed up one rank with bows drawn behind, with about ten spears trying to protect the Arch Magus.

“You burnt your own soldier!” she shouted.

“Quiet!” he shouted, holding that pendant aloft. “Spawn of the Devil. We know who you are. We curse you! You roam this forest, killing any that come. You hunt children and raid the peaceful settlements along the banks of the Ryvern. By the power of the Eternal Flame and the King, we claim our justice! We are here to give you your doom! Men, yield not to fear, yield not to woe, for today in the name of justice and in the name of your God that you take so holy, fight!”

What a cinematic moment. I clapped.

Their eyes turned to me.

“What a spectacular speech, uh, arch magus,” I said, as I completed my applause. “I still think you could do better. Perhaps you should keep it a little short. Maybe, see Theoden on the last Lord of the Rings movie. You could take some—”

“Quiet!” the commanding voice of the Arch Magus said. He was very good. Very commanding. No wonder he had risen to that post. Usually, humans don’t really care about having ability, and more about whether it seemed that the person in question had the ability. A game of charades.

“Quiet, fool! Who are you who consorts with these Demons?”

“Consorts?!” I exclaimed. “My, my, lascivious allegations. However, false.”

I felt the air thicken again. The soldiers were uneasy, perhaps, and quiet, rightly questioning who I was, just like their commander.

“Shut the fuck up, Crow,” Fangira said. “Don’t butt your head in. Can’t you see how serious this is?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” I whispered to her. The answer was simple. Why hadn’t they thought of it?

I moved forward a couple of paces, judging their uncertainty. Yes, this was a good moment. However it seems to you so far, dear reader, I really do not like fighting. The path of the Buddha, non-violence, is where I like to take my confrontations to.

“Gentlemen,” I began. “This is a wasteful encounter. What is even happening here? Demons? What demons, where? These ladies are just perfectly fine. All they wanted to do was to make you sleep and turn you back to your homes. And that is what you should do! Just leave, and come back later to do whatever you want to. After all, doesn’t it grow close to midnight? Would you rather fight or sleep in a cozy bed?”

As if in reply, I saw a volley of ten arrows arcing their way across.

Time seemed to flow like honey, thick and lustrous, and I could see even the tiniest bit of fletching feather, and the rotating metal tips of the arrows glinting in the moonlight.

I wondered what time it was.

From somewhere in the periphery of my eye, I saw Finora jump in front of me. Then, a blur of red, and a blast and a shockwave. The arrows split around me. Sometimes, I could even forget that this quiet girl existed. But there she was saving me.

The blast sent a shower of white snow up, like the tendrils of an avalanche.

I stood rooted in place.

Oh no.

I had realized, to my complete horror, that there were men here who would rather fight than sleep in comfortable beds. How had it come to this?