A Harpy's Embrace

Death

The next morning, Cyril was woken up by Nariia gently tickling his cheek with her feathers. He laughed and smiled, looking up at her.
-I'm glad to see you're less tense around me now - she smiled down at him - but now I've got to go. See you in the evening, Cyril.
With those words, she flew away. Cyril lazily got up, feeling terribly hungry and thirsty. She made him forget about eating again.

After eating and taking a morning bath, he realized that he still had a lot of time left until their evening meeting. He went to town to stock up on food. He hasn't been hunting for the past few days, but he felt excused because finding a wife was currently more important to him. Besides, he had a lot of savings.
He took the long route to the clearing because he wanted to pick a flower for his harpy. An iris flower.
When they met, he didn't say anything, he just walked up to her, reaching up, he put a hand on her cheek, and put the iris in her dark, very long, curly hair.
-Nariia... I want to tell you something important, but I lack the courage to.
-I won't bite you.
-I...I love you.
She gave Cyril the sweetest of smiles and a tear welled up in her eye.
-So do I, Cyril. So do I.
The man embraced her very happily and kissed her neck. She looked down at him lustfully and pushed her beak against his mouth. They both went in for the kiss at the same time. However, instead of opening her beak wider, she just pushed her deeper into his skin, again hurting him. He pulled away from the kiss and put a hand over the freshly created wounds.
-Nariia, please... I want to experience the joy of kissing you, but the pain is too great.
-I do it because I love you, Cyril. I know I'm hurting you, but I wouldn't hurt anyone else this way. You're so very special to me.
-I know, but please stop.
-Don't be mad, sweetheart.
Nariia soon calmed Cyril down. They spent many wonderful hours together, after which they both went to spend the night at Cyril's house. He just wanted to cuddle her while sleeping, but she had different plans.
-Well, Cyril, you're a lucky man - she said, winking, changing magically into her black lingerie.
-I'm very lucky to have you, yes - he said, laying down.
-Do I gotta do all the work, love? - She asked, laying down on top of him, pressing her breasts against his chest.
-I don't want to have sex with you if that's what you're after.
-You...WHAT!? - She asked, outraged.
-I'm a man of tradition. As much as I love you, I refuse to have sex with you before we marry - he said in an apologetic voice.
-How dare you just... Lead me on, only to act like this.
-I never said I wanted to have sex with you or make love to you, or anything of the sort. I said I wanted you close while I sleep.
-Idiot! - She screeched, scratching Cyril's hand with her talons, leaving a big, open wound.
-Nariia... - Cyril cried out quietly, tears welling up in his eyes. Not primarily because of the pain, but because he thought that she would never hurt him outside the heat of passion.
-Not another word. I'm sleeping in the guest room tonight - she said, offended by Cyril's behavior.

The man saw his lover storm out the door, leaving him to wonder how much does Nariia truly care for him. He knows that she loves him, but it seems like her ego is bigger than her love. Cyril went into his kitchen, opening his cabinet with medicine. He bandaged the wound with great effort. Every second that he looked at it made him weaker. He wanted a wife that he could care for, and one that would care for him. There was nothing he enjoyed more than getting passionate with Nariia, but would it really make him happy in the long term? He pondered such questions while crying himself to sleep.

-Are you awake, love? - Cyril was woken up by Nariia's voice.
He sat up in his bed, simply nodding. How could he enjoy the sight of her while the wound on his arm was still causing him great pain?
-I'm really sorry, Cyril - Nariia frowned in compassion, gently grazing her feathers over his injured arm - I hope you change your mind.
-Is it really that much to ask of you to wait a week or two? Once we marry, I promise you'll get what you want.
-And why should we wait?
-Out of tradition, for example. I really want to keep it up.
-Does tradition matter to you more than my happiness?
-Can't you wait, love? I hate to see you sad, but I don't feel good about breaking tradition. And this - Cyril touched the bandaged wound on his arm - makes me feel so awful, hardly anything would compensate it. Not because I'm wounded, but because it's you who hurt me.
-I did it because I need you to come to your senses. What you're doing is unreasonable - this time, she took an unapologetic stance. Cyril sensed the selfishness in it, and he also noticed how quickly she changed from apologizing to trying to justify her actions.
-I need to go on a walk to clear my head - he said, getting out of bed and starting to get dressed.
-And what about me? Are you just going to ignore my presence?
-I'm really not in a romantic mood now. Just give me some time to clear my head, as I said.
-Your head better be clear when you get back.

Cyril put on his clothes before grabbing bits of cheese and bread from his pantry, so he wouldn't walk hungry. He wanted to visit the temple on his way, but he told Nariia he was just going for a walk, and he wouldn't lie to her, despite what she did to him. He was better than that. It was a long walk. He visited all the places where his family members met the loves of their life. He wished that Nariia would be more ordinary. He loved her, but how does one love a person that's so selfish and toxic? He pondered long and hard on what should he do now, but nothing came to his head. Eventually, he met his best childhood friend picking berries in the forest. He only talked to her sporadically since his mother died and he had to hunt hard with his father.
-Cyril, so good to see you! - The girl said excitedly, putting down her basket and giving him a hug.
-Hi, Emily. It's been a while - he said, not sounding as happy as he should be.
-You're in a grim mood. Can I know why?
-I'd rather not drag you into this, Emily - just as Cyril said these words, he spotted Nariia rapidly descending from the sky. He began shaking from fear as she landed in front of him; her demeanor suggested she was furious.
-Who's this, Cyril!? - She screeched out.
-Nobody but a friend. We met on accident - he said, trying to hide his fear and sound as neutral as possible.
-Liar! - She accused him - and you, you filthy woman, stay the hell away from my Cyril!
-I... Cyril's telling the truth, I'm but a friend of his... - she said, wetting herself from fear.
-Nariia, I need you to stop. You're scaring my friend - Cyril said, trying to hold back his fear.
-Your "friend", huh!? Let me show you what I think of your fucking friend! - She said, flapping her wings and leaping at Emily. Cyril knew what she wanted to do. He wasn't about to allow it.

Cyril's blood-curling scream was heard as far as the eye can see. His shirt was red and torn to shreds. It slipped off when he collapsed, revealing very deep marks on his chest. These marks were made by Nariia's talons. Emily was so crippled by fear that it took her a moment before she started running away.
-...Why? Why would you try to kill her? - Cyril asked quietly as he looked up at the harpy. She simply scoffed and flew off.
Cyril was left for dead. He stood up, doing his best to stay conscious. He wrapped his shirt tightly around his chest to prevent bleeding. The town was quite far away, but the temple was close. In his final moments, he decided to go there, and utter one final prayer in his name.
Every step he took, every second of trying to stay awake was suffering. His head hurt from the racing emotions. Every branch and stone he stepped over, every tree he grasped for balance brought back memories of when he was a child and his father took him hunting. Then, as Cyril felt weaker and weaker, he saw memories of his father's health worsening, all racing so quickly, yet at the same time stretching on as if the minutes it took him to get to the temple were hours.
Then, he finally saw it, the temple. Walking was near impossible for him, but he was determined, just as his father fought back his illness two years ago for as long as he could so that he could teach young Cyril everything he knew. As he went through the temple doors, Cyril no longer felt pain. He just felt his head getting lighter and lighter, upon finally reaching the altar, he collapsed on his knees. "Mother nature, have me in your care." He repeated the words his father uttered on his deathbed. There, he laid in a pool of blood. It was oh so delightfully peaceful, now that he wasn't conscious and didn't have to worry about his death, and the goddess of nature Calliope herself watched over him.