Chased by a demon: Chapter 1

Ferah gazed out at the broken landscape, something unpleasant churning in her gut.  The sky was gray, the earth was black.  She was used to open plains, badlands, forests.  Here, the very land growled and spat.  Why here, of all the places the new stryx could flee?  She supposed it made sense, if they didn’t want to be discovered.  The Wraith herself could be hidden here, tremendous form hidden by the smoke.  Maybe she made some of it herself.  The glow of the lava was eerily similar to the corruption leaking from the infected stryx, after all.

Meridian, for her part, seemed unbothered.  It was actually for the best they were scouting alone; she didn’t get along with Tazmyn’s mount, and had nearly gotten into several fights with the other stryx in the group on their way to this remote place.  It was exhausting trying to get her to behave.  Now, free of all others, Meridian had her way, and powered through the nauseating gases as if she’d been born in them.  Honestly, maybe she had been.  It’d explain her personality.  While it was difficult for a bat-winged stryx to soar, the constant buoying heat allowed her to, and Meridian floated along, ragged ears twitching and flicking as she listened for signs of life.

A low grunt was Ferah’s only warning as Meridian dropped, vanishing the pair of them into the smoke.  Her eyes stung and she ducked her head into her arm, gripping tight to the saddle with the other.  Her lycan had better not smash them into the volcanoes here.

They collided with something, though it was clearly a living thing as it hissed at the impact of Meridian’s claws.  Ferah could feel her mount lunging, snapping, wings flapping as she tried to stay on top of whatever she’d just ambushed.  A moment later it was over, the thing groaning as it died.  Ferah pulled her face away from her sleeve, and found the frantic flapping had cleared some of the smoke away.  She leaned to one side and saw that Meridian was ripping into the carcass of what looked like a giant salamander.  She sighed.  Couldn’t stop the hunger of a beast like hers.  Odd, how a salamander could thrive here.  She’d heard of fire newts, but those were tiny, and lived quick lives in wildfires.  

Slowly, the smoke dispersed further, Meridian mumbling as she ate.  Ferah watched embers float through the air.  They weren’t too far from a crack in the ground that spat sparks and the occasional bit of lava.  Gradually, she realized that two of the embers weren’t moving….and they were right next to each other.  She sat up straight, thumping Meridian on the shoulder, but the lycan merely grunted.  She hit her again, and Meridian looked up and around, following Ferah’s gaze to the glowing eyes that had appeared, with a form coalescing around it as the smoke continued to clear.  Meridian immediately began to growl, and the creature advanced.  Ferah saw it was a stryx, and unlike any she’d seen before.  This must be what they were all sent out to find.  It was then that she noticed the heat rising around her, hotter even than the volcanic environment.  Meridian was stoking her fire.

Ferah pulled on what fur she could reach, trying to get her mount’s attention.  “Stop it!” she hissed.  “We can’t fight it!”  Images of Grimm, raging and red-eyed, flashed in her head.  She couldn’t let that happen to Meridian.  “We have to lead it back to camp!  They’re making a trap!”

The strange stryx charged; it was teal, unrealistic in this orange and gray landscape.  Meridian tensed beneath Ferah, and sprayed a line of fire in front of the creature.  It skidded to a stop, screeching, and Meridian answered in kind.  This was it, Ferah thought.  They were fighting this thing.  She pounded again and again on Meridian’s shoulder, begging her to flee.  The tension in the lycan’s body unwound in an instant, she flung herself forward-- but not at the other stryx.  She was moving upward, whipping around with agility only chiro and hawk stryx could manage.

Meridian was bolting back to camp, skimming so low above the ground that she occasionally had to use her legs to bound off a tall rock.  The odd runner, for its part, was pursuing them, close enough that Ferah could see hairs pulled from Meridian’s tail streaming from its beak.  Its eyes continued to glow red, a beacon even when the rest of the animal was obscured by fog.  Ferah hoped her mount knew where she was going; this pace could not be kept forever.

They flew on, for what seemed like ages.  The stryx behind them seemed not to tire.  Meanwhile, Meridian’s breathing was becoming labored, her teeth bared as she panted.  The rocks beneath them grew cooler, then gave way to dirt, then dead grass.  The camp had to be near.  With the air clear, Ferah spotted a familiar outcrop of rock, one that she’d noted because it looked like a curled cat.  “That way!” she shouted to Meridian, leaning her weight in the direction she wanted.  Meridian obliged, whipping a sharp turn, the runner stryx following in step.  Quickly, the tents that marked camp rose in the distance.  Ferah guided her mount toward where she’d seen the pit being dug, and within moments, it was over.  The teal stryx was trapped, a crowd gathering immediately to see why they’d arrived in such a whirlwind.  Meridian staggered off to find water, tail dragging, and Ferah simply slumped in the saddle, weakly pointing her toward the big troughs brought for the stryx and livestock.  People were congratulating them, calling out, asking for a story, but Ferah just rested her head in Meridian’s hot fur.  She’d tell them all the story later.