Through the unseen: Through the unseen (1,007)

It had been days since Desert’s kerfuffle with Wayre. He stayed back to mourn his ship, leaving Desert alone in the mission.

She got that he needed to stay, but she was also frustrated. He needed to be here. He needed to be doing Wyvera some kind of justice. Not just a tyto. Because that’s all Desert is.

 

She’s just a tyto.

No ship, no weapons, no companionship. Just a satchel of dried moose and a water canister. She didn’t have a light source or even a cape to keep her warm.

Who thought this was a good idea again? There’s no way her village would’ve suggested it if they knew it would end like this.

 

She spent most of her time walking, though she did fly when the fog eventually lifted.

Her bandages had long since fallen off, and she could only pray she wasn’t gonna get frostbite.

Snow stuck to the tips of her feathers and refused to shake off. There wasn’t much she could do to keep warm.

Today was the foggiest day so far, Desert noted.

It wasn’t overbearing, but she could only see about fifteen feet in front of her.

She had to squint to make out proper shapes.

 

Not like there were any.

 

The spikes she had grown familiar with all too quickly vanished, leaving no landmarks, no hills of ice, and leaving Desert afraid to even look to her side without getting lost.

Yeah, like she knows where she is in the first place. 

 

Her only saving grace was the beast having broken through the ice every few miles. Whether it needed air or wanted her to follow it, Desert wasn’t sure.

She was a little afraid to find out.

 

She heard a horrific screeching in the distance, no doubt belonging to the serpent. She froze, and the fog around her grew even thicker.

 

Okay, okay… She tried to breathe, but the air was thick and groggy and cold. It pierced her lungs like the spikes she traveled through, and she was getting dizzy.

She shook her head to get herself out of this trance, but it only worked slightly.

 

The screeching continued, and she took to the air. She started thinking about worst case scenarios, which is the worst thing she could do.

 

What if it found another ship? What if I don’t get there in time? What if there’s more than one serpent? What if those screeches are her horrible little serpent babies? What would she do if that were the case? She wouldn’t kill a baby.

 

She huffed aloud in frustration and beat her wings a little more intensely.

A thunderclap rang loudly through her ears, and she realized she was flying in clouds. She wondered if the fog was so thick she just couldn’t see the lightning.

The wind started to whip around her, her bandana flicking harshly into her back. It’s like she flew into a whirlwind in seconds.

 

She barely had to flap her wings as the wind beat against her, lifting her without effort. It was a strange, hellish serenity. 

Lightning flashed and the serpent roared with the thunder.

Pushing forward, Desert flew quickly, her feathers curling with every wingbeat.

 

The fog was overwhelming, she could barely see three feet in front of her. Her eyes were fuzzy trying to distinguish the landscape, and her own feathers were weighing her down.

 

God, it’d almost be easier if she closed her eyes.

As she did so, another thunderclap, another roar. It’s like the serpent is singing. Desert wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

 

Pushing forward, the flashing was nearly constant, as was the thunder.

A particularly bright flash opened her eyes in surprise, and she screeched.

 

The serpent was looking at her. Through the fog. Desert froze, though the wind kept her airborne.

She was looking her own demise in the eyes.

Mortified, her mind started racing. Oh God, how close am I to her nest? If it attacked a ship going in even the vague direction, what would she do now, looking at her?

Did it lead her here in a guise of victory, only to remind her that she lays her mercy to the beasts of the ocean?

The beast roared at Desert, its long body shifting hypnotically along the ice. She tried not to fall victim to it.

 

The echo reverberated in her chest, flourishing into her throat. She clicked her tongue to even out the sensation.

The serpent seemed to consider it a valid enough response. After a long pause, it almost glided into the ice, its scales shining through the fog. It was gone again.

 

After taking a moment, breathing terrified breaths, Desert fluffed her feathers and shook her body, trying to get rid of some of the adrenaline. She looked death in the eyes and made it alive. For now.

 

However badly she wanted to just turn around and wail to her brother, the fog was still thick, and she still had to finish this. She took a few steps to gain her composure, the ice biting her talons.

 

She took to the air again, and she closed her eyes once more when she got settled against the harsh air.

She could feel every snowflake that landed on her feathers, every wisp of wind, every stream of fog.

Desert embraced it as much as she could, splaying her tail feathers with the wind around her. 

 

Light flashed behind her eyelids and she suddenly felt lighter. Desert was nervous to open her eyes, but as she did, she noticed the fog lifted almost entirely. She took a few moments and landed on the thick ice, looking back at the wall of fog.

Her breathing was heavy and sharp as she looked around her. Ahead of her, the serpent’s cracks in the ice became more frequent, and the exposed water rippled. It’s as if the ice itself was vibrating.

 

Another thunderclap, this time quiet. The serpent never responded to it.

 

A few more short breaths, and Desert continued onward.