Flames of the Eagle

Part Two

—... Beaches, rivers, mountains in the distance... —the scout was the first to jump out of the boat and reach the coast.

—You forget the most important thing —said the clawed berserker—, there's nobody nearby!

Hearing his scream, the rest of the crew arrived with them.

—... This land knows conquest and death well —with her bare feet still touched by the sea, the shaman put both hands on the ground, and tears flowed from her eyes.

Around her, the others kept silent.

Hours passed without them doing anything more than observing their surroundings.

—... There is snow in the mountains —the great berserker was the first to speak, when it was already getting dark.

—You think going there will be the safest thing —the cannibal said to him.

—I agree —the witch smiled.

—Me too —so did the undefeated.

—... —the captain was the only one with his back to the mountains.

—Are you sure? —the scout asked him, walking to his side.

—No, but I've never been sure of anything in my life.

—There are conquerors here —the thief told them from several meters away—, many, and of several generations.

—I know —the captain continued, looking down—... so it's not a good idea to leave any traces, let alone something they can use.

—Will you put your trust in this new land? —the strategist asked him.

—... It's what I've done for as long as I can remember... putting my trust in the latest thing I get to know.

—And how has it worked out for you? —the undefeated wanted to know.

—... Perfectly —then he looked forward—... Unbridled, strategist... could you help me?

Neither of them said anything. They just nodded.

The flames quickly engulfed the ship. Before nightfall, the wreckage had finished sinking.

—Now we can go to the mountains —the captain declared—, we have nowhere to go back to anymore.

—We never had anywhere to go back to —the cannibal replied.

The looks that the others gave him were cold, except for those of the unbridled, the witch, the priest and the undefeated. Seeing those four smiles, the untidy man smiled as well, showing sharpened teeth. Then the captain looked at him too, and while there was no smile in his mouth, there was no coldness in his eyes either.

They moved cautiously forward for several days. Although they could not see or hear anyone nearby, nor find any traces or see any fortifications, they knew that the conquerors were there, in that very land; that they had arrived long before; and that they had already begun to achieve their goal.

—... The earth here... —after almost a week of marching, the shaman stopped—... there is something different... —since feeling the earth of the coast, she had not said a single word—... In here, death... —until now—... is another one.

—Are they the ones that have died here? —the paladin asked her, slowing down suddenly.

—Yes. More conquerors have died here than conquered ones.

—Then this land has hope —said the little berserker.

Without answers or realizing it, he reached the head of the march. In spite of the snow and cold of the mountain range, they advanced more and more quickly, without saying a single word.

—I think... —until the harvester broke the silence—... we have arrived.

—It's the summit —said the hunter, looking in all directions—, forwards we will only find the other side of this mountain.

—And the conquerors? —the clawed berserker wanted to know—. Where are they?

—In this mountain range, dead —the witch answered, with a voice like laughter—. Behind our backs, expanding. And in front of us...

—Struggling —the strategist smiled, with an igneous glow bursting in her eyes.

—Then we move forward —the great berserker declared.

—And with weapons held high —the undefeated followed him.

—So be it! —the ripper roared.

The unbridled and the witch laughed as they ran. The warrior smiled. The defender, the mage, the paladin and the champion closed the march. The others continued to advance, drawing weapons of all kinds, stretching their bones and tensing their muscles, as attentive as they were eager for the battle that could welcome them.

But it arrived to them sooner than they expected.

—What's that?!! —roared the cannibal, lifting his huge axe.

—An eagle!! —howled the priest, concentrating strength and hope on her staff.

—The other thing! —the captain raised his voice, pointing with his cutlass.

—It's the first time I've seen something like that —said the elder druid, stepping forward and squeezing her glaive.

—What beast is that? —the younger one continued to wonder, preparing her mace and raising her knife.

—We'll know too well if we don't move!! —the thief's voice sounded louder than ever before, leaping and turning his twin blades.

In the sky, meters above their heads, two huge birds were facing each other. One was an eagle, just like the one they remembered from the stories, but this one wasn't golden, or at least not completely. Its feathers were brown like wood, its wings were red like blood, its eyes and claws were white. Only the flashes of its movements were the color of gold.

Its opponent was much larger, with wings covering several clouds each, black as coal and with snow-white tips. Its neck was longer, its head smaller, and upon it grew a crown of scarlet skin, with tones less vivid than blood, but less dead than copper.

—So there are more eagles... —the clawed berserker said somberly.

—And we were lucky enough to find this one —growled the strategist.

—Legends will be told about this —smiled the mage.

—And we must create those legends —the paladin replied to him.

—Forward, then —the great berserker began to roar—, there is no other way than forward!!