Just like that, Yaro was alone, her Atho nowhere in sight. He had been right next to her only a moment ago. Wait, no, he had been in front of her. Both? That didn’t matter right now. What mattered is where he had gone. This wretched door had taken him from her. She raged at the door, using her shoulder to try and force it open, clawing at it when it refused to budge. Nothing would ever work, she knew. The Tuumon Kova, as so many called it, was an immovable and unbreakable ancient relic. But, somehow, she had managed to open the great stygian door. She and her Atho did. All to finally be together. She tried to force it open again, pulling at its chains and kicking its engravings, screaming at it to return her Atho back to her.
Yaro slumped against the cold unknowable material of the door, wrapping herself in her vermilion wings, pulling her cloak over them for another layer of protection. She had to take time and think about the situation, she could not let herself get so frustrated. Had it worked? It must have. Why else would he be gone? But where was he then, why wasn’t he with her.
Smoke coiled from the black stone adhered to the haln around her neck. The smoke trailed to her palm and manifested itself into her ring. She played with the delicate thing, careful not to let it fall between her misshapen fingers. The soft viridian sheen of the metallic ring had a single white stone set into it. Her Atho had told her to wear it on a finger, but she could never bring herself to do that. The tattoos she had, herself, painfully drawn into her palms were all she could take as a means of making herself appear any less horrific. Besides, they were for utility only, she had no pretense behind them looking nice on her. Though the designs themselves were pretty when others wore them, just not herself.
She clutched the ring in her hand, bringing it close to her chest. She felt the smoke that was the ring slide between her fingers and back into the black stone hanging from her neck. She didn’t dare have it out for too long, as it is the only thing she had ever put any value to. She didn’t truly need anything, and even things she did need, such as food and shelter, were transient anyways. Still, she couldn’t help herself from coveting the thing.
Yaro came out from her created shell, folding her wings to her back, walked to the edge of the broken and open building she and her Atho had scaled, and stared into the distance. There was no end to the sparsely inhabited city before her. The building she stood upon was only slightly taller than most other buildings, allowing her to witness the vastness of only a small scope of the City of Sornata. Even this building, important enough to the ancient denizens of this area to house a Tuumon Kova, was still dwarfed by the pyramids, towers, and floating chunks of decrepit structures that drifted silently through the air. The structures couldn’t wander too far for they were tethered by traversable hollow tubes to the lower buildings. And to think, this was only half the city of what she could see; that there was another unseen portion to it dug into the ground, piping through the earth like mycelium. She would never see the whole of it in her life.
The grand city waited in silence, rela had yet to reclaim this part. Yaro felt a chill run down her spine, thinking of how all these buildings were either completely empty or home to countless wild creatures. She and her Atho did not have to fend themselves from the wild on their trek to this singular, and rather unassuming, building. They were out there still, It was something she had to prepare for, even if it never came to be. She was always ready for a fight.
Standing up here, alone, she realized something; she was much more comfortable in densely crowded metropolises. To fade into the crowds, to go unnoticed by the sheer amount of bodies, that was safer. She needed to get back to that, to figure out what to do next without the looming threat of something thinking she was a meal.
She stepped over the edge, feeling the wind tug at her cloak. The cool zephyr made her patches of skin without scales cold. She craved to open her wings, to take to the skies. Even though her wings were ripped and rather small, they were still enough to carry her. And carry her they would if she still had her murn that made her blend in with the sky. But now, with her only murn left being the one that carried her things, she couldn’t risk exposing herself for all to see. She stepped off the edge.
Just before hitting the ground, Yaro spread her wings, lurching her back up for a second before she softly landed on her two feet. The moss that covered the time-lorn city streets was comfortable, even more so after she had scaled many stories of stone steps. She took a quick moment to sense her surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary, though she probably wouldn’t have noticed anyone trying to hide from her in the first place. She hastily pulled the cloak over herself and pulled the hood over her head. She had cut the hood to allow her two horns to pass through it, to be then buttoned around the horns, keeping it secured. The way the cloak was designed, with iridescent feathers and black leather, it made it appear as her horns were an aesthetic addition to her ensemble, not actually part of her body. It worked too, no one had asked her about them yet. But, then again, she had her Atho with her, and he would always do the talking for her.
Smoke poured from the stone set in her haln, coalescing around her face before setting into a mask. This plane white mask with a single black eye inked into the center completed her disguise. Of course, she didn’t need to put it on all the way out here, where there wouldn’t be anyone to see her. No one. She needed to get back to town.
Yaro made it a point to avoid puddles. Though her cloak was mostly waterproof, she didn’t like the feeling on her calloused feet. When she would get back to town, she couldn’t remember its name, she would have to see a sight broker to find her Atho. But how would that exchange go? She looked up to the Sayk band that lit the world. She was heading in the wrong direction. She could just follow the broker home and force them to tell her what she wanted to know. No, they need their tools, she would have to talk to them during their working hours. She stopped for a moment, thinking she heard a sound. It was just a deer who got spooked from her coming too close. She watched it bound down the verdant street before turning a corner and disappearing. Maybe she could pay them? She could scrounge up some money and easily and find a sight broker who is accustomed to shady characters. Maybe a particularly seedy part of town? The information she needed should not be too hard to obtain.
“Hey, you there!”
Yaro looked up, grimacing behind her mask at the sight of not one, but four people hovering over her. Three of them flew on their own wings, two muzoval and one tsohtsi; one flightless humi rode in a winged machine with them. She didn’t have time for this nonsense. She tried to walk under and past them.
The tsohtsi dropped to the ground, extending its patterned wings to block her way. Those patterns, It must have been male.“Druul, I’m talking to you.”
Glad her getup worked, and that they didn’t see her leap from that building. “Please, I’m just a nomad, I mean you no ill.” she chose her words and accent carefully. This, of course, worked too.
“Sure, sure. And what did you do with that humi that was with you?”
The machine carrying the colorless and hairless ape swooped down to her right. “I bet he took him to his lair for a sacrifice.”
Yaro’s voice, for the species shape they could see of her, was deep; they assumed her to be male. She stood her ground as the one muzoval landed to her left side and the final one behind her. The muzoval spat at her through its beak, “We should kill it.” Yaro turned her head slightly to this, the muzoval’s four eyes were all fixated on her. If they were this hostile now... Yaro welled up that familiar heat in her palms.
The muzoval, its green scales and feathers looking sickly in the dim light, took a step towards her. “what, lost your tongue? Maybe you should just go home then, filthy druul.” It spat again. Yaro noted one of the muzoval’s claws was missing, likely that it was in a number of fights. One of its tails was limp as well, giving further credence to this assumption.
“I have done no such thing,” Yaro said calmly “I-”
“Shut it, I can’t stand the sound of you talking!” the muzoval shouted, taking another step towards her. “no one’s, around, let's kill it.”
“Fighting never gets us anywhere Akian,” the tsohtsi said, his voice unnervingly calm. It balanced on one of its talons, raising the other toward Yaro. “If you could just give us what you’ve got, I’ll be sure Akian here stays on his leash.”
The muzoval growled low making no further moves towards her. Yaro refused by turning her head away from him. The tsohtsi puffed up his chest, saying ‘he’ doesn’t have a choice. When Yaro refused again, the tsohtsi gave a great flap of its wings. The flap created a huge gust of wind, throwing Yaro back and her cloak open.
“Monster!” the muzoval cried as Yaro bounced back to her feet. Before their shock could wear off, she leapt to the sky. The tattoos on her hand burned as they departed from her hide, forming two long whips of flame. Akian bashed into her, sending her off balance and into a freefall. She swung her arms about, lashing one whip at the muzoval who had rammed into her and to the one who was charging up after her. She caught the one charging, the whip cracking on its hide, sending it back down. The other had moved out of the way, but the distance allowed her to climb higher and over the roof of the closest building.
She wasn’t fast enough, the humi in the flying machine and the tsohtsi caught up to her. They all spat curses at her, or at least she was sure they were, as she focused more on what they were doing than what they were screaming. She twisted her torso and arms to snap her whips at the two. The tsohtsi flapped its wings up at her, sending the whips fluttering uselessly in the wind. She braced herself the moment she saw its wings flap. The gust was too strong and it blew her backwards. She spun, claws out, and scraped at the muzoval who was there in wait of her. The muzoval was larger than she and kicked her arm, sending her back the other way.
She felt like the ball children would throw at each other in a game. She flung both her whips behind her, each at a slightly different angle. The muzoval moved out of the way of one and into the other, having the orange flames wrap around its body. She tugged, yanking herself back up. When the muzoval flew past her, she released the whip and kicked it in the back. The muzoval was gone from her sight in an instant. Her leg shuddered with pain.
Another gust of wind sent her helplessly sailing through the sky. She wasn’t prepared for it at all this time. Quickly, she adjusted herself to use the momentum to get away. She dove back to the streets, contorting herself and extending her wings to send her careening around a corner.
Luckily, with their emotions flaring, Yaro was able to feel each of their auras. One was coming up behind her, the malice they exhumed for her was almost blinding. She turned back, calling the whips back to her hands, and sent them out to catch her pursuer. Both connected, warping around it as she pulled on them. She yanked herself toward it, preparing herself to not use as much force this time. Just as she reached it, it broke free from the flames sending sputtering embers in a halo around it. She could see the blackened hide from where the flames griped it. It opened its jaw, revealing sinister fangs behind its beak, and clamped down on her already hurt leg.
The brilliant pain had her lose focus and her whips fizzle away to embers. She stuffed the pain into the back of her mind as she kicked and scraped at the eyes of the muzoval with her talons. Her dew claw caught and ripped from one of its front-facing eyes to one of its side facing eyes, sending a spray of blood onto her leg. It screamed, its jaw opening wide and releasing her leg. She swiped at the muzoval with her forclaws, barely missing its neck. Snatching the hand she had just used, she stared at it for a moment, dumbfounded. She snapped back, flying away when she felt two auras coming at her.
She turned to face them, summoning her whips back at the ready. They burned this time. It was the tsohtsi and humi. The tsohti dove to catch the falling muzoval, but the humi flew at her with hate in its eyes. It opened its mouth and screamed. The air warpped to its voice. She raised her arms to brace herself to whatever was going to happen.
The scream hit her hard, sending her flying into a stone wall. Thousands of needles stabbed over her entire body, more painful in her head. She covered her ears, but the needles continued to bore into her. This humi was incredibly strong to be able to create such a force. She let herself fall, then caught herself and burst through a window into one of the buildings.
She tumbled over the broken glass before slamming into a wall. She forced herself to get up, using the wall for leverage. The leg that had been bitten dripped with blood. That leg refused to move. She limped then fell through a doorway, catching herself with two outstretched arms. The humi was still screaming, but the walls muffled it enough to where she could think.
“It's usually best to just run away…” One of Natrai’s sayings from when Yaro was young.
She dragged herself on three limbs, crawling her way through the millennia-since-inhabited halls, taking every turn she could. Her body was still beset by needles, she could not hear herself breathe. The suppressed pain from her leg welled up and began to impede her conscious mind.
The screaming quieted. The walls dampened her already wanting sense of auras, so she had no way of making out where they were. They were unlikely to come after her, she had grievously wounded two of them; they would have to take them to a medical center.
Moron, she makes sure to only say in her mind, you’ve grown careless. Ducking into a room with a missing door, she collapses behind one of the indistinct pieces of furniture that no one had thought was important enough to rob through the centuries. Or, maybe, no one had been in this part of the building yet.
She puffed her mask into smoke, sending it to her idha for safe keeping. And to let her see more clearly. She removed her bloodstained cloak to view her leg. The mere sight of its mangled form was enough to send her mind whirling. She brought her leg to her mouth and began licking. She forced her tongue as deep as it would go, healing the severed tendons and bones first. It was never a pleasant affair. The taste of her own blood and flesh, she had gotten used to. The pain it caused and the heavy toll on her stamina and mental acuity for the nearby future? That, she could never get used to. This wound too, it would have her thinking of nothing for at least a day. She felt her leg stitch back together with each labored swipe of her tongue.
Smaller cuts she could cure without any evidence she had been harmed. This wound would leave scars. Probably unnoticeable considering all the scars that had already been bequeathed to her all over her disgusting body. And it was only on her white skin that the scars would be most visible, the patches of red scales were less obvious holders. No one would see any of it anyways, it didn’t matter so long as she was alive.
She was fortunate, maybe cursed, to have been born with this ability. Certainly more useful than being born with a voice for singing or the ability to create orbs of cold water. Though a better fortune would have to have been born not as she was. Her ability, her nya, had saved her life on several occasions, probably more than she could count considering what an open wound would have meant in the squalor she was forced to lived in.
With one last exhausted lick, the wounds in her leg were sealed. Yaro let out a long breath, letting herself melt against the wall, taking comfort in its rigidity. Her head dipped in exhaustion, dragging her gaze along with it, giving her view of her cloak. Let that muzoval be taken to Yon, there was no way she could get rid of those stains. She would have to cover them up somehow. She could cover it in mud, have it look like she had been on the road for a long time. Of course, she had a spare cloak, but the enchantment put on the robe was neither cheap nor easy to come by.
Most people wore bits of clothing to show off, and no one would give her a second glance for encasing herself in a robe and dawning horns of, what they would likely think to be, a dead friend. And the mask, those of the dreulbe faith weren’t unheard of; and it did prevent most from asking her to reveal herself. But it wasn’t perfect, she had neither the money to buy nor the knowledge and strength required to do anything that would either hide her figure or transform it. A cloak that drew attention off of her, that was good enough.
She looked back to her blood-crusted leg. Her Atho would have been disappointed in her. Not that she had any other choice. He still would have hated her fighting, were he still with her. She could fend for herself and come back scar-free, but somehow, he always knew if she had gotten into a fight.
She watched the vapors pool from her idha and form her ring in her palm. Anything to distract her from having to look at her horrible body. Where was he now, was he safe? She tried to get up, only to fall back in pain as her leg was not yet done healing. Kak, there must have been more damage done to it that she was incapable of reaching with her tongue. She felt wet at her cheeks. Was she crying? Impossible, she had felt pain much worse and over a greater span of time. She wiped the, what she wanted to believe to be, blood from her eyes.
So much blood, so much vitality lost, so much weight in her mind. She couldn’t get to him in this state. She had to rest, much to her resentment. She would make a splint for her leg when she woke. She would find him. She had to.
Incredibly action packed beginning. I am definitely gonna have to do some digging for a frame of reference for some of these things - muzoval, idha, tsohtsi - though I had a rough sense of what was happening, I still got a bit lost in the action. I liked the impactful start of her panic and desperation, though I might've wanted a frame of where she was struggling to start. A quick sketch of it, anyway. Unless all you'd wanted the reader to come into was the idea of her struggling against a door, then slowly widening out the scope of the setting. I just wasn't sure where to place the 'door'. Initially I thought it same dark underworld / death-gate thing. XD All in all, though, I rather like the character of Yaro. She seems sad, from my perspective. Self-depreciating, loyal. A survivor, certainly. And I'm left with the hope that she'll find Atho, because that'd be incredibly cruel of you if she did not. >:C The cloak, the mask, and her reason for wanting them is also pretty neat though the entire significance didn't hit me until she reflected on it - but I thought that was good too. Sort of like assessing what she had left or what had been done to her things in the aftermath and why this was the better route. It gives a good insight into 'how' she thinks, which comes across very practical. At least when it comes to her existence and survival. She wants for very little, so when she does want something - the ring, Atho - it hits a little harder and makes me want it for her all the more.
Thank you so much for your kind words! Yeah, I do think I haven't set the norm in this chapter, so there will likely be a new first chapter that will be a Yaro chapter with her Atho. It was fully my intention to widen the scope, though the door won't come in to play for some time. I'm glad the door gave you those vibes, very interesting. I'm really glad her character came across so clearly! I will not say if she finds her Atho, you will have to find out ;D Yeah, I left the ideas for the cloak until later so it wouldn't bog down the important points or the action. I'm glad it worked out. The first chapter is hard thing to master, I still have some work to do.