Against the Wind

3.2 || Amina

Amina could've stewed on her frustration for hours, but fortunately distraction was swift to present itself. The external noise crested, tumultuous with fear and adrenaline and magic, punctured with inhuman squeals that unfurled her from within herself. A flinch slithered through her, like cold fingers tracing the back of her neck. She sensed Isra straighten even further, shoulders and biceps tense as wire, and let tension crawl through her own muscles. She didn't often get the chance to skirt near breaches. The sound pooled twin itches in her palms, like the air itself had thinned, woven into stringy strands that twisted tangibly around her fingers.

At the furthermost corner to the city's edge, Isra placed a hand on Amina's chest, shunting her back into an abrupt halt. Her gaze was a new side of serious now—less harsh in its cut, more level, flat as slate. "Wait here. Observe from a distance if you wish, but do not come any closer. I'll collect you once the situation is dealt with."

With that, she vanished, a pinch of dust readied between her sharp fingers as she darted out onto the open sand. The moment her eyes were elsewhere, Amina stepped forward.

Sandbrick nestled up against her forearm and brushed roughly against her fingers as she peered around the wall's angular face, careful to maintain her skulking crouch to disguise herself in its shade. Her dress's crooked skirt shied close to her legs. Steadying her breath, she shifted far enough to allow the scene to fully unfurl before her.

Sand swirled in a yellowish haze, overlaying the tangle of human and inhuman, as much clutter for the eyes as the piercing shrieks and shouts were for her ears. The former was a product of the tirade of beasts that had charged beyond the city's scant border. They were strips of limber, clacking bone, formed of hard brown abdomens and dozens of partitioned limbs, each lined at the foot by miniature razors that swept crevices into the ground with every step. Spined tails dyed a bulging red at their ends waved in menace, their movements wild and seething with blind aggression. Rounded eyes balanced upon stalks waggled and blinked. Nearest Amina, one beast sank back onto its scrawny haunches, clicking mandibles raised high enough to clip her nose off. Some of its companions that bore its silhouette beyond were even bigger.

Against her will, her pulse fluttered, stirring up the flowery, delicate feeling of vulnerability. She stood her ground nonetheless. Ferocious a presence as the beasts held, they were only sticks and bone, and it wasn't long before they screamed.

Yellow-cloaked figures swamped the creatures, multiplying by the second as more mages responded to the call. Streaks of colour dominated the cloudy haze. The nearby beast sprung from its crouch only to meet an outstretched hand wielding a wall of silver, shimmering dust, jewelled glints of mirrored light that rushed forward along with a howling breeze that leapt up from nowhere at all. Even from where she stood, Amina felt chilled fingers brush her cheek and yank at her headpiece's golden loops, forcing her to readjust where it sat atop her bunched, fraying curls, although the breath of wind she experienced must've been nothing compared to the power that assaulted the beast. As if the air itself were made of sharpened, wicked metal, it shredded through skinny limbs and tore wide eyes from their sockets, hardly leaving room for a scream before noise too was dismembered. The thing collapsed in a barely recognisable heap several paces away, a ragged, skeletal pile, leaking whitish liquid out onto the sand.

Panting hard, the mage who'd done the deed lowered her hand. She was quick to twist away to face another opponent, but Amina looked long enough to catch the grim spark of satisfaction that brightened her gaze; spilled like glitter, it lit up her face and shone around her in an unseen aura, like the dust's delight wove away any lingering trails of shadow. Amina let a smirk cut into her cheek, excitement of her own tumbling through her along with a glowing hint of pride.

Nothing stood against her people. And, one day—a day soon, if she could finally have her way—she would be one of those mages, guardian of the city, battling back these disgusting creatures that could only ever quietly click and hiss their meagre threats against Tehazihbith's steadfast peace.