Chapter 1
A sifblade whizzed past him, slicing through a few strands of Shwaan's long, silver hair. He spun mid-air to avoid impalement.
Struggling to regain his bearing, Shwaan didn't hear the telltale crackle of an energy shell forming until it was too late. The shell struck him squarely in the chest, throwing him back into the air even as his wings flared to absorb the impact.
His eyes locked onto the Aeriel who'd attacked him, an X-class circling the sifblade-wielding humans a few meters ahead, providing cover to the mafia's 'Hunting party'.
Now there was a sight he had never thought he'd see. Exiles working with humans to hunt down their own kind.
Drawing in a breath he didn't need, Shwaan held out a hand and summoned the ambient energy to the tips of his fingers, the power singing in his veins. Soon, he could see the silvery shell taking shape in front of his outstretched palm.
The other Aeriel stopped his circling. His eyes widened, finally comprehending what – who – he was up against. Shwaan smirked, allowing his opponent to feint to the right. With a casual flick of his wrist, he launched the fire shell into the air.
By the time his opponent realized that Shwaan had predicted his maneuver, it was too late. The shell connected with one of his wings – which had flared outward as he scrambled to change his course – and burst into flames. They engulfed the screaming Aeriel, who dropped out of the air like a struck sparrow.
The humans below him screamed and scattered. Few of them, however, were fast enough to avoid the rapidly spreading flames from Shwaan's fire shell, which engulfed everything they came into contact with. Chaos spread as the gangsters broke rank and ran helter-skelter to avoid the fire, their terrified screams crowding out the silence of the night.
Shwaan sighed, sweeping in to pluck a large, pot-bellied human away from the path of the advancing flames. The man had broken a toe and could barely support his own weight, much less move fast enough to avoid the fire.
Holding on to his captive's collar, Shwaan spread his wings and soared further up into the sky, until the rising smoke no longer clouded his vision.
Once he could better see his surroundings, he lifted the large man by the scruff of his neck until they were eye to eye. Had they been standing on the ground, his burly captive would have towered over him. As it was, all he could do was glare with uneasy belligerence as Shwaan adjusted his grip to help him relax.
Shwaan chuckled. "Feeling feisty, I see." He dug his fingers into his captive's meaty neck, earning a startled shriek.
"What do you want from me?" the man growled, struggling ineffectively. "Let me go!"
"You sure that'd be such a bright idea?" Shwaan mused, sparing a glance at the flames spreading below, engulfing overgrown vegetation and cracked concrete with equal ease. He spared a moment to be thankful to incompetent policymakers who left these desolate old factory towns to rot, abandoned. He didn't want to imagine what would have happened if he'd been forced to engage his attackers in a populated area, like the commercial district where they'd first spotted him and begun their pursuit.
The big man followed Shwaan's gaze, fidgeting nervously as he stared at the raging inferno below. "Wh-what are you?" he demanded shrilly, looking up to meet Shwaan's steady gaze with watery, nervous eyes.
Shwaan chuckled. "The smoke still bothering you? Want me to fly higher?"
The man twisted in his grip.
Shwaan flew backwards and away from his quarry, but he wasn't fast enough. Thick fingers dug into the feathers of his left wing, making him dizzy. The unfamiliar sensations of nausea and exhaustion overwhelmed Shwaan, causing him to lose momentum and hurtle downwards, towards the flames.
Feeling himself fall, the big man screamed. His grip on Shwaan's wing faltered and loosened as they spiraled ever closer to the raging fire.
A tiny rock fell out of the man's grip and into the flames below.
Freed from the sudden and debilitating fatigue that'd overwhelmed him, Shwaan flipped in the air and spread his wings, dragging them both away from the flames that licked at their heels.
Moments later, the cool night air caressed their skin, and his captive let out a sigh of relief. Shwaan changed course and dived back into the heat and smoke below, eliciting a sharp cry from the man whom he dangled casually over the fire, his arm outstretched.
"Don't let go!" his captive wailed, clawing at Shwaan's forearm with both hands. "Please, don't let go of me."
"I won't if you answer my questions," Shwaan said mildly. "Where did you get that reinforced sif ore?"
"That what?"
Shwaan sighed. "That piece of rock you tried to attack me with. That wasn't regular sif. Such a tiny amount wouldn't have made me lose control like that." He shook his head. He thought he'd closed this chapter when he killed his mother. "Where did you get that rock? Who gave it to you?"
"Ja-Janak," the man gasped, stealing uneasy glances at the flames below. "Please just...get me away from here. I'll tell you everything you want to know."
"You've got the order wrong, my friend." Shwaan smiled sweetly. "You tell me everything I want to know, then I get you away from here. If you ask very nicely."
He flew slightly lower until the flames singed his captive's foot. The man screamed, and Shwaan pulled them both back up once again. "Feeling talkative yet?"
"I...I don't know! Janak – Janak Nath gave us those rocks. He said they were sif, only better. Said to be careful with them, not to use them against regular Aeriels. Only against the-the likes of you."
"The likes of me?" Shwaan flew closer to the flames. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'll tell you." The man's gaze flickered to his wings. "Just don't – just don't let go of me. Please."
"I'm listening."
"The-the markings...on your wings." He stammered, blinking sweat from his eyes. "The red ones. Two of them. Janak told us to find you. And to bring you to him when we did. Said the little sif rocks will help us bring you down, if regular sifblades didn't work."
Shwaan frowned. "Janak Nath? He's with the feather mafia?"
The man nodded mutely.
"And he told you to find an Aeriel with two red marks on the wings?"
"Yes." Some more vigorous nodding. "Yes. He told us to bring Reivaa to him. Alive."
Shwaan's eyes widened. "Reivaa? He said he wanted Reivaa? You're sure about this?"
The man frowned, peering nervously at Shwaan. "Yeah. Janak said there's only one Aeriel with those markings." He glanced at Shwaan's outstretched wings. "Must be true. I've never seen another Aeriel with markings like those. The X-classes have one, and they say the Aeriel Queen had three, but everyone knows she's dead." He shook his head, a befuddled look in his eyes. "You saying you're not Reivaa?"
"Oh, my friend," Shwaan said ruefully, pulling his captive closer to him, away from the fire. "I'm so very sorry, but you'll never know." With a flick of his hand, he twisted the man's neck before he could utter another word.
Making sure he was well and truly dead, Shwaan dropped the corpse into the flames. He dispatched another fire shell to ensure that there were no survivors to carry the news of his escape back to this Janak Nath, whoever he was.
Then, he soaredupwards on outstretched wings and set course for Ragah.