Page 55

Standing on top of the lantern of a great cathedral, Lindi noticed the broken section of stone beneath her talons. The cross that had once been fixed to the very top had been removed forcefully, and there was evidence of its fall lower down on the building.

Beneath the stone lantern she was perched on top of was a great dome, and below that a rectangular building. Off to one side were two towers, one of which had a great clock on it large enough to see from a mighty distance.

The clock was well maintained, possibly so that all the occupants of this large and vast city could count down the minutes of their demise. The cathedral, once a pillar of a mighty religion, was in disuse for such a reason and had been repurposed into a different temple.

These people needed it.

With so many injured soldiers and builders, as well as sick people, the city of Londinium required much support.

Below her talons was the home of the Anzúli who resided in Londinium.

Anything that looked to be of the old religion had been removed, giving room for new paintings, glass windows, and glorious artefacts.

Deeper within its bowels, materials from another world were stored away and constantly monitored.

But of course, Lindi was the only human who knew such immense changes had been made within these stone walls. Not even the current king had been inside. Then again... he rarely left his newly built estate within the city, too afraid to step outside past the guards that surrounded his home.

The Anzúli within Sing Dynasty had used their communication scries to let all those on Earth know of Lindiwe Bernadi, the strange human witch. Someone touched by Uxos, even if that was an unconfirmed blessing.

She was welcome everywhere.

And she was here, in the great Englian. Not that it was so great, considering its morose state.

I hate that I must stand here and bear witness.

Because the current situation was that Lindi had somehow found herself being pushed into the role of a pillar of hope. Her black downy feathers and large bird form reminded the Anzúli of one of Uxos’ forms, a large phoenix-like creature with black flames coming off its feathers.

The fact that she was human sized and large enough for most to see, even from a small distance, had been a good omen to them. Most animal shifters morphed into the size of the animal, perhaps with a small amount of discrepancy. A bird of her size was impossible, and yet here she stood, massive.

With warm night pressing in against her, Lindi shifted her talons on her perch to drift her gaze elsewhere.

It was hard to watch, no matter where she looked.

This large city, one of the biggest in terms of congregating people, was at war. Hundreds of thousands of humans were suffering at the hands of Demons. Night was the only time they could rest, but sleep eluded many with the sounds that scratched, howled, and rustled in the night.

Before her lay houses that separated her from a large river, and more buildings spanned to the right and left as far as her raven eyes could see. Behind her were more homes and then acres of much-needed farmlands – not that it was enough to feed so many.

Her feathers ruffled as she shivered at who stood on the fringes of this city and bordering the river that spanned five or so kilometres.

A string of Anzúli desperately tried to keep the monsters at bay.

Walls made of magic, varying in colour, shimmered in the night – each one belonging to a different caster.

The other side of the river was left to ruin, all those that once lived there eaten and their homes occupied by inhuman beasts.

The river did little to keep them at bay, and the bridge that separated the two lands had been purposefully burned down.

Lindi wished she could leave. She had done her part for Weldir for these two main islands that made up Englian. Even just thinking of escaping had guilt slicing into her gut.

The Anzúli were doing their best to keep up a linked barrier, but they could only do so much with fifty of them. There were more across the country, others helping other towns and humans, but this was the largest city.

The humans up north were strong, hearty people, but they, too, needed assistance even with their kilts and axes. Thankfully they had many rolling hills and mountains, but they also had many forests and woodlands to contend with.

Like those people, those of Londinium had taken up arms. First it was just men who had taken up muskets and swords, willing to fight for their women, children, the old, and the sick. But as they fought back against fang-filled beasts and swiftly died, even women had taken up arms.

The societal restrictions and silliness had been shed in the wake of destruction. They all worked together to build a wall that encompassed the entire city, which had been a painfully slow endeavour.

There was a shortage of resources, their walls first built of stone being swiftly extended and reinforced with wood to fill in the gaps.

Their muskets were now lacking in bullets and there was only so much gunpowder left.

Citizens were hungry and thinning from famine, giving room for disease.

They had access to the river, their only drinking source, but it wasn’t in the healthiest state.

Those who left throughout the day to chop wood and search for herbs were few.

In the shade, hungry beasts lurked and took their opportunistic meals when they could, picking off workers or soldiers one by one.

People had acquired resources in many ways, such as taking from ships that were afraid to leave harbour when the debris of other shipwrecks came back down the river in pieces.

They were unable to go to the mines to find ore, halting any progress they had quickly been achieving. The technology they had here had already far surpassed that of Austrális, but they were now shoved back decades into the past.

The Anzúli were doing all they could, but there were limitations.

They could only expend so much of their magic, reserving it for use at night when the city was most at risk.

In the relative safety of day, human soldiers stood guard around the perimeter while builders shed blood, sweat, and sometimes their lives to quickly construct defences and repair infrastructure.

They restored much of the city that had burned down, people working tirelessly to give homes to those without.

The Anzúli offered medicines, which were far superior to anything humankind had ever made. They aided the farms in growing food with thrice the natural speed. They were there, helping, but they were mortal beings, and not impervious to exertion.

Thus, Lindi had not only become a pillar of faith that their god was there watching over in the form of a feathery blessing, but she was aiding. She had a powerful magical source, and though it was finite, it did not drain her.

It drained Weldir.

When she had explained their collective cry of desperate need to him, and how much she wished to be a solution – unable to witness such a slow mass destruction of people – he’d granted her full use of him.

Which meant he had been shoved into his slumbering silence, as he slept during the overwhelming usage of his abilities.

Weldir slumbered to allow Lindi to cast a barrier of chalky sand against the length of the river each night, giving the city a wall of darkness to protect them.

It gave many Anzúli time to rest or work on other means of aid.

Throughout the day, and if it rained – which it did often here – she grew vegetables so they could tend to rearing animals in a more efficient way.

The city council pushed back the perimeter of the city, wanting more farmland since they no longer needed to rush their building of the wall.

With her help, they could make the city’s border bigger.

She burned corpses with scentless black flames, ensuring the horrible and frightening stench of meat didn’t cling to people’s noses and minds, while also removing the potential of disease.

It seemed a more humane means of removing the dead, with the Anzúli praying for their peace as they moved onto the next life.

There was one final task – one which was solely reliant upon her to take care of. One that happened at each dawn.

There was so much more she wanted to do, but it was her body’s demand for rest that she could not do more.

And, in her sleep, Lindi transformed into a raven to stand upon this cathedral to close her weary eyes. To be a pillar of hope, letting the Anzúli wrap the humans in a comforting lie like a warmed blanket.

At night, she awoke to bear witness to the plague of Demons scratching at all their barriers, hers spanning the furthest along the river. They howled, squawked, and yelled. They were relentless, baring their teeth just for a scrap of meat.

The sorrowful state of not only this city, but the world, was ineffable.

She’d seen such devastation everywhere, but this was where she had been planted for the past seven years.

This was the worst she’d seen in person, but surely other cities faced such destruction, with the Anzúli doing all they could to prevent total annihilation.

How pitiful.

I can only be here. This is where the Anzúli had reached for her help, and she couldn’t be in many places at once. I am only one person. She couldn’t become many, no matter how much magic she could access.

And, as sunrise crawled its way closer this day, pink and orange splashing across the sky, Lindi grew tired. But she couldn’t cease her assistance. She could not close her eyes against the heavy weight in her lids and rest.

Her next and final task before rest awaited her.

Lindi unfurled her wings to the oncoming light and lifted off to search through the slow retreat of Demons. The wind rustled her feathers as she soared higher into the sky and then banked to the left to glide through the air.

She sought a monster, but not one that matched the throng of others. Something else. Something far more dangerous and beautiful.

She circled the city until a tiny speckle of white made itself known among the glistening blackness of bodies. A creature sniffed at a glimmering, translucent wall, unable to pass through to hunt the humans within, but unafraid of the oncoming rays of sunlight.

In the past six years, it’d been seen by many humans who loitered at the barrier to get a peek at what horrors lay on the other side. This creature, although menacing, aggressive, and just as nightmarish as the others, was obviously different.

Here it skulked every dawn and reappeared every dusk. Stepping through the light without burning and dominating the night as it fed on Demons foolish enough to come near. Like a shark, it was always circled by prey, but wasn’t always lucky enough to feast on what was just out of reach.

Lindi, in her raven form, landed behind it.

Orbs flared bright red, and it turned to her with a boisterous and ear-splitting roar.

An otter skull, mighty and large, snapped its intimidating fangs, while a deep-purple tongue curled with saliva dripping from it.

Roe deer antlers jutted up from the crown of its head, and the creature tossed their head to present them.

The humans hadn’t known what to make of it at first, only knowing that it was dangerous and would eat them like the Demons. Yet, the fact that it stood here with the sun on its back while skulking on all fours caused fear to quake in their hearts.

They’d given her child a name, and she found it to be rather suitable. Especially considering their abilities to march wherever they desired, in whatever time of day they liked.

Duskwalker.

The Anzúli had relayed the name to other sectors, and the term was swiftly spreading throughout humankind – especially in the places where her other children had been spotted. They would find more in far-reaching places, as she already had four in three continents.

There would be more, as per Weldir’s wish.

This child was young, a little over eight years old, but rather formidable.

Not long after she’d given birth, she’d discovered the state of Londinium and had quickly found their skull and antlers to grow them.

They had yet to consume a human and find their gender, but Lindi knew if they were to travel north rather than relentlessly returning to this barricaded city, they would stumble upon one eventually.

Lindi sighed as she transformed from a raven to a human before they could step a single humanoid hand forward.

“You have done well tonight, Odie,” Lindi complimented, noting the carnage they, her child, had produced throughout the night. “But it’s time for you to return to the forests.”

Just as they charged, likely seeing her as another enemy, black tentacles made of glittering sand shot out from the ground and wrapped around them.

Odie fought with all their might to be freed, but little could be done against the magic of their father.

They could snap and snarl all they liked, could fret and squirm with all their might, but Lindi wouldn’t release them.

Instead, she turned and began to walk away from the city, with them being dragged behind her. Odie got a hand free to claw at the ground in an attempt to stop her, tearing up grass and dirt, but all they did was rend the earth.

She took them away from the scent of humans, otherwise Odie would cause devastation while they built in the daytime. They would kill soldiers, and she couldn’t allow it.

As much as I cherish you, I must bind and move you from my gaze.

Odie would one day eat a human, but not under her watchful raven eyes.