𝗠𝗜𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦 - 𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗲𝘆𝗮𝗺

𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
✯ ┊ ┊ ✯
★ ┊ ★
✯ ✯
★

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆. Trees splitting under relentless bullets. Rain whipping and drops hissing as they fell on dancing flames. Gunshots were the worst, each as loud as a small earthquake even over the howling wind. Storms on Pandora were said to be as though the Great Mother herself was unleashing her previously contained anger, lashing out at the Sky People. At least, that is what Amraë liked to think. Good thing she wasn't afraid of thunder.

Her speed was such that the floating mountains were reduced to a blur around her, Atanzaw's large purple wings barely visible even with their nightly shimmer. Another deafening sound came from behind, Amraë having barely the time to order her ikran to dive before the mountain above her exploded, lighting up the night in a deadly glow.

"Niwin!" She screamed, urging Atanzaw faster as rocks sharp as darts cascaded on her skin. If they could make it to the jungle, the Sky People wouldn't be able to follow her in their monstrous vessels.

Ignoring the burn in her legs and the slap of the wind and rain on her face, Amraë tighted her grip on her ikran's saddle. Where are you, sister? Both had split up minutes earlier to make the Sky People's chase ever harder. Amarë knew that their guiding instruments could not work in the Ayram Alusìng, or the Hallejujah Moutains, as the humans called it. But she had to admit; these skxawng where resilient — and had every reason to be in view of what the sisters had just stolen. If they could make it back to her territory, what was now in their possession could just bring the death blow to the demons from above.

Despite the already overwhelming noise, she picked up the oh too familiar clicking noise of a chamber being loaded. Over the years and missions, the humans' technology had barely any secret for Amraë; her scars were living proof of it.

Then the firing started.

Bullets erupted around her as she dove on Atanzaw's neck. Her ikran was as terrified as she was, her heartbeat as fast as the bullets missing them by inches.

"Mawey, Antazaw. We're almost there."

She banked left, remaining close to the smaller mountains, where the demons had the least chance of hitting her. She hissed as a projectile missed her by inches, resisting the urge to turn around and give these demons a taste of her arrows. The mission came first; she needed to find her sister. Feet solidly planted on the saddle, she contracted her muscles to stay in course, her visor and advanced eyesight allowing her to see clearly despite the pouring rain — the same could not be said for the Sky People following her, whom, in spite of their superior speed, had still not managed to shoot her down.

"Amraë!"

The latter looked up, eyes squinting under the rain, ears jerking up at the call. Another ikran came in sight slightly above her, rode by a familiar figure. Relief erupted in Amraë's chest.