He had heard of the fire river from his mother, and now, he trotted along, following his mother’s descriptions of the place, tongue lolling in a contented smile, though he paused often to examine various things in hopes that there’s be something useful to bring home.
Lyr coasted and rolled on the breeze above, playful to the core, chuckling to himself and occasionally climbing the air currents to scout ahead like some spirit animal of fire and ice before dropping back to glide above Ardyn.
And, finally, he saw steam furling up into the air ahead, or maybe smoke. Maybe both. His trot slowed to a stroll, and Lyr coasted ahead again, and came to perch on a spruce branch. Ardyn came to the edge of the opening in the earth and peered in, ears perked with fascination.
“Think we’ll find anything to bring home?”
The raven shrugged his wings, dropping to settle on the yearling’s armor-clad back and peering in as well. “May as well go and see.”
Ardyn grinned and padded slowly into the opening, following the passage into darkness that was hot and sulfurous, buffeting his ink black fur in sparks of fire. Then, soon the darkness lightened into dull, sullen red, and then, they turned the corner and he stared out at the pulsing, seething river of fire.
If he had to compare it to anything, he thought the best descriptor might have been loose, molten hot mud. It was a lot like his own blood, to be honest, in color at least. For many minutes Ardyn stared at the molten torrent, finding the heat just on the edge of being too hot. Like being to close to the fire at home.
And the stuff was everywhere. Finally, he began padding along, gazing at the intense scenery. To any who saw him, he might have appeared as a fiery shadow, at home in this place, although he thought he might need to put some salve over his nose when he left the caves.
The thought had just barely left him when a booming roar shook him to the bones and he looked up just in time to dive to the side as the biggest cat he’d ever seen launched toward him. When the giant cat skidded to a halt and whirled to prepare another pounce, Ardyn’s eyes were drawn to the great sabers and hungry, tawny yellow-green eyes.
The saber cat was hungry, ribby even in this low, hot light, and Ardyn scrambled to his paws, wanting to look for Lyr but not daring to take his eyes from the cat as he backed away, then darted to the side as the saber cat kicked off, not bothering to be cautious or sneaky about it this time.
Ardyn ducked in as the cat barreled by, whipping out a fore-paw and raking his claws, now unsheathed, over the cat’s hock, hoping to slash the achilles and slow the beast down.
He had to leap forward to avoid the agile slap of the cat’s own front paw as the sabered monster twisted around to get at him.
His heart was hammering somewhere in his throat. But he let out a gasp of relief as Lyr’s brightly glowing form dropped into sight from behind a stalactite, raking the cat’s head with his claws and jabbing with his sharp-tipped beak before lifting off on the hot air currents with a frantic beating of wings and a croak of alarm as the cat leapt at him.
Ardyn tag-teamed the cat when it leapt, aiming to crash into its back and sink his claws into its shoulders, scything down with his own sabers and ripping into the cat’s neck from behind, snarling and wrenching his head side to side to worsen the wound as the cat gave off another rumbling roar of fury and pain.
The cat bucked and despite his grip Ardyn found himself flying through the air, hitting the stony ground hard and skidding toward the molten rivers, a yelp of alarm escaping him as his claws scraped the stone and he scrambled to his paws, acutely aware of the burning heat way too close to his rump.
He didn’t have time to be glad he wasn’t frying in the river before the cat was barreling after him, mindless with anger and hunger. Ardyn snarled explosively, launching toward the cat, but he didn’t meet it when it pushed off. Instead, he hurled himself forward, dropping low as the cat sailed overhead.
The saber caught the ruse too late and paddled in the air—and landed on stone, paws singeing as it landed a foot from immediate death. The cat turned, growls thundering as malevolent eyes sought the fiery yearling.
Ardyn crashed into the cat again, taking it off guard as he launched himself from behind a stalagmite as Lyr flashed in front of the cat, dazzling it with his brightly glowing white splashes.
The cat staggered, and the step took the much larger creature that last foot of space into doom. The air shuddered at the bellow of agony, and Ardyn staggered back, but not in time to avoid the desperate swipe of the cat’s paws, claws unsheathed.
It felt like a bison – or Taliesyn – had full-force kicked him in the jaw, and molten blood spattered the ground as the yearling tumbled across the floor, thankfully away from the flailing, dying saber cat.
Eyes watering – okay, he was crying, but he didn’t care much about manliness – he stared dizzily as the saber hauled itself free of the molten river, but it was clear, even to his bleary eyes, that the cat was doomed. Shock was taking over, and even as the animal staggered, dragging its back half, toward the light of day, Ardyn slowly pulled himself to his paws, following at a distance until the light of day dazzled him.
When his eyes cleared, he looked upon the saber cat, laying sprawled and pitiful on the snow, back end steaming. Agonized groans droned, and he moved closer. The cat snarled, but didn’t react in time to stop the yearling from putting the blade in his bracers to use.
The snow splashed crimson and gold, and Ardyn stumbled back a few steps, haunches dropping as the cat bled out. Lyr dropped to the ground beside him, eyeing the slashes on the yearling’s face. “Deep, but Kayode or Ime should be able to stitch you up and you won’t scar too badly, I think… That was way too close.”
Raven and boy turned to stare at the dead cat. “Should we take the hide—or what’s left – home?”
Lyr clucked softly, quoting Ardyn’s mother, “May as well be useful if it was stupid enough to attack a Valhallan.”
Ardyn grinned, wincing, before he muttered, “Mom is going to freak out about this one, I think…”
The raven tipped his head to regard him with one eye, “You think?”
“Good point.”
Word Count: 1162
Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think
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Knight
Bloodletter
