𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥'𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞

v. a contract between a witch and a prince. what could go wrong?

{5}

Ruins.

It was the only thing Howl could see from below. The previous green and healthy lands, now burnt and ruined from the war.

He flew. His body covered in black feathers, and wings are grown out from his back to his arms, his face the only part of his body that's not transformed.

Boom! Boom!

Bombs continuously dropped down from the sky, explosions still heard from where Howl currently is.

Red war planes surrounds the area, undoubtedly the ones who's dropping the bombs without remorse. Meanwhile, white war planes are also approaching. Then a battle in the sky ensued.

Howl skillfully dodged the destroyed and falling parts from the ships, catching the attention of the red airships.

Bat-like creatures goes to attack him at the same time, but he defeated them in one fell swoop.

He goes to bait the other ones, flying higher and higher and higher—

....

In Porthaven, in the Great Wizard Jenkins' abode.

The door opened, yet no one was seen entering. The door closed.

The figure of Howl was revealed, turning off his invisibility spell.

He looks worn out, his back slumped and hair shadowing his face.

He dropped himself on the chair in front of the fireplace, leaning back, his feet (claws) propping on the said fireplace. His face facing upwards, eyes closed in exhaustion, revealing the feathers surrounding the side of his face.

“Stinks”, the other magical creature in the room, Calcifer says. “You reek of burnt flesh and steel.”

Howl paid him no attention, as he continued to breath in and out, breath in, out, in, out—. His face all of a sudden contorted in pain. The feathers and claws slowly being replaced with his clothes and shoes.

That's when he finally lets himself to relax.

“Keep flying and one day you won't be able to change yourself back”, the fire demon warns his contractor. He then reached out for a piece of log, proudly stating, “Isn't it great? Sophie did this for me.”

Howl, again, didn't pay any attention to his words, fixing his sitting posture, “The fighting was fierce.” He opened his eyes, it glinting with worry, “The country's ablaze, from the southern coast to the northern border.”

“I hate the fire in gunpowder”, Calcifer furrowed his non-existent eyebrows in anger, “They have no manners.”

Howl spoke, his usual smile back on his face, “My own kind attacked me.”

“The Witch of the Waste?”

“Hack wizards masquerading as monsters.” His eyes held no hatred, nor anger. It's empty, like it has been for years.

“They'll cry plenty later on, when they can't regain human form.” Calcifer rolled his eyes.

“No”, he denied, “they'll just forget they ever know how to cry.”

Then, Calcifer asked, “Aren't you supposed to report to the king yourself?”

The wizard stood up, “Yes, well...”, he walked towards the stairs direction, “Hot water for my bath.”

“Oh, no. Not again.” Calcifer dismayed.

Howl walked up the stairs, glancing on the green curtain for a second, before flickering back towards his destination.