The broken harpy

In the moonlight the small group sneaked through the deep forest. By wing it would have been easier to reach their destination, but chances were too high that they accidentally ran into a control squad. Cold wind rushed through their bodies, dawn would soon come. They were climbing up a high thin plateau, hoping to get a good view from up there. It was very stony and had a unnatural form covered in a tight wrap of vegetation.

Almost at the top the slope got easier and trees grew even tighter together. Zharca was in the lead, something with this place felt weird but same time she sensed a weird sort of attraction coming from the top, that´s why she had decided to come here in the first place. After a few more cliffs she reached the top, ordering the others to stay below. Something very strong was up here, a very intense presence.  There weren´t any trees at the flat top, but a small shelter, the power was coming from there.

Carefully Zharca released her avian essence, anticipating the familiar feeling of wings growing on her back, but this time it was different. Never before had releasing her essence felt so reliefing and good. Apparently this place intensified her ancient instinct, that of a fire eagle. With a creak the door of the shelter opened, a small figure appearing in the dim light. Zharca didn´t need to take a closer look to know what or who she was.

Old scaly feet appeared on the threshold, and the wrinkly, weather worn face of a very old woman. The tail feathers of the ancient fire harpy were completely ruffled and broken, even worse her wings. Finally she stepped into the moonlight, revealing her true appearance. Ice cold shudders went down the young harpy´s spine, terror in her eyes. She couldn´t, didn´t want to believe what she saw. The old hag clumsily stretched out her wings, or what used to be wings. Ugly and misshaped feathers grew on them, most of them bent the wrong directions and no longer than a hand span. Even worse the limb itself, disgusting scars of knife wounds shaped them and no feathers grew on the grey skin. They were horribly crippled unable to ever carry the woman through the air. Silent sobs emerged from the girl, her entire body shaking and trembling in pain. The sight was almost too much to take.

Long gray hair covered most of the face, but as she rose her head towards the moon Zharca´s terror took the better of her. Stumbling she went to her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks, eyes wide open. For that was what the woman was lacking, eyes. Black round holes were in the middle of the woman's face, her eye sockets empty, nothing but rotten skin and gruesome scars where her eyes once used to be. Zharca sobbed loudly now, her body clutched by terror, shacking wildly.

Her empathy was big, the imagination of being stuck in such a disfigured body was unbearable for one of the free harpy folk. No wings, no eyes. She wanted to scream out in pain, but then something soft touched her cheeks, wiping away her tears. Not the woman who got closer now, but her wind spirit calmed her. >Fear me not, young chick. < She whispered in a soft voice, an incredible powerful aura radiating from her. Zharca raised her head, unsure of whether to look at the woman or not. The black sockets still raised every single feather and hair on her body. She knew very well who did that to the old harpy. >The Sky war. Hunters? < She stuttered quietly, trying to regain control over herself. The old hag nodded warily, saddened by her influence on the chick. >It has been half a century since I´ve been brought here, a living warning to all avians out there. They cut my wings, cut my eyes, let me rot and forget up here< Then she stopped, and gazed at the stars which she cannot see. >My wind spirit was the only thing I have, the only one who kept me alive. Tell me, young eagle, are there more? Am I really not the last one? < It took Zharca a moment to realize what she asked, then answered. <The owls have fallen, but fire and lighting still roam around, locked up on a tiny island<  Zharca got back up to her feet, feeling the wind spirit touching her, embracing her, feeling her. The spirit functioned as the womans eyes.

Now the old harpy just stood there, and Zharca knew that she was more than determined to do something. Out of nowhere something made Zharca move closer to the woman, her instincts where driving her, with her long big wings she embraced the old woman and hugged her. Immediately it eased the deep pain she had felt. >Tell me what I can do for you? < She asked in the ancient bird language, then let go of the broke harpy again. The old woman had collected all her last energy for this moment, straightened up and screeched back. >One last time I want to fly, one last time I´ll touch the sky. One last thing I ask of thou, will you guide me back to blue? < The young harpy sensed the woman's desires and could fully understand. With determination she answered >my wings shall be yours, my eyes yours to see with< Then the old harpy slowly climbed onto her back, her thin arms wrapped around Zharcas  neck. Suddenly her young body tingled as the woman's wind spirit embraced her, all her muscles felt strong as never before, a weird power flew into the girl. Zharca walked to the edge, opening her wings gracefully, and jumped off.

Against the additional weight, flying had never been easier before, the strong wind spirit supporting her with all its might. Up high they flew, higher than any mountain around, almost high enough to greet the celestial sprits. The old woman stretched out her crippled wings and beat them up and down as if she was flying. Full of delight she let the wind blow in her face and play with her gray hair. Zharca felt her deep longing to see the world, and an inexplicable instinct told her how to do so. She screeched an eagle cry she had never heard before, used her fire power like she had never learned. Someone led her, she didn´t spend much thought on it, just let it happen, let go of her inner essence. Her wings miraculously turned into fire, the flames spread, her tail soon was burning red, so was her hair. But it didn´t hurt. Soon the woman caught fire too. They were completely on fire, but they didn´t burn, no!  Zharca even felt her own body become the fire itself; felt the woman's presence within her. They fusioned into one creature and together as one mighty fire eagle they soared across the sky. She felt the infinite pleasure of the woman's soul within her finally being able to fly and see, but there was weary fatigue behind it. Just in that moment the sun ascended in the horizon, intensifying their fire. Nobody directed where they flew, Zharca just let go of any control. She had no idea for how long they flew; she just enjoyed bathing in the awe of her ancestors.  

>It is time< the woman whispered after some time, and high above Valwera their fire ceased, and one became two again. The old harpy sounded very weak now. A barely visible picture appeared in Zharcas head, showing her the final place, back where her hut was. Soaring in a circle she soon spotted it at close range, but out of nowhere Zharca´s wings jacked and started trembling violently. A yet unknown feeling of fatigue spread through her body, but they had already reached the cliff.  With a last effort she put grace in her landing, ignoring her friends on the other edge she let the woman down who barely managed to stand anymore.  She was smiling with satisfaction and stretched out her arms and wings. Holding her breath Zharca pulled out her eagle dagger, obeying the harpy´s death wish, and jabbed it straight through her upper chest, cutting the blood off the brain with one strike. A strong wind blast emerged from her body as she collapsed, then her body slid over the cliff.

Zharca slowly got up, but stumbled around, the bloody dagger still in her hands she collapsed in front of the hut. >Zharca! < Aero jelled, and ran towards her. They had silently observed the situation, not wanting to meddle. They had seen the large firebird in the sky; it looked like a ritual of some sort. But more important was Zharca, was she alright? Aero turned her heavy body onto the back, her head slumped around. She was terribly pale and her body trembled, but she didn´t seem to be injured or hurt. Aero hoped it was only caused by heavy fatigue, but for right now priority was to get her of that cursed cliff. >hey Helix, let´s get the hell away from here< Within seconds he turned into a large dragon, kneeling down so that Aero could get her friend onto his back. One last time Aero turned her head back to the odd cliff, sensing the sadness woven within it. Were harpies really meant to extinct?