The Angura, Part 3: The Bahādur
The Tail Mountains were known to harbor some of the fiercest storms in all the realm, especially among the high valleys scattered throughout, where the elements flurried on without regard. This was their domain, and any caught within their grace would find their fury writ upon the mountain faces, where strikes of lightning left their marks.
As the skies darkened, the rumbling of the coming storm shook the land. Brilliant flashes hissed through the air, followed by deafening cracks from the heavens above. When silence began to fail once more, static swelled in its place...
And then the torrential rain came.
The downpour swept in with a sideways gale, slamming against Adler's features as Rokhā raced through the muddied path. The Lightning Sprites flickered and swirled in an unkempt flurry, sending levin bolts against a nearby tree.
Bark stripped clean from its trunk. The massive pine cracked, and came tumbling down.
Rokhā veered swiftly, narrowly avoiding the crown of the falling tree, and Adler clung tight upon the thick fur of her back, ducking beneath the bolts flashing all around them as sparks and embers burst from the trees.
Adler had at first thought the lightning hailed from above, but it seemed the Lightning Sprites here were just as eager to whisk about to the fury of the skies in shimmering cracks.
She was in no position to face them upon their battleground.
Adler would have prayed for mercy, but she knew not the words to say, nor if they would be heard amidst the stormy Galemaw Valley.
There seemed to be no end to the valley-- until at last she spotted a narrow crevasse nestled at the base of the cliff face, promising refuge from the storm.
She had lost track of the main path some time ago and hoped this was the right way.
A sonic boom of an explosion rang out as another Lightning Sprite made a sharp strike toward the mountain, erupting the stone into a collapsing flurry down to the valley below.
The forces of this region were incredibly fierce and unwavering. It was fortunate the cave ahead had not been blocked by the falling stone.
The valley grew colder as the night drew on, and Adler-- soaked through-- had little time before the frost began to settle.
Rokhā rushed for the maw of the cave, while Adler pulled the Crystal Catalyst from her belt and held it out to light their way into the darkness.
As they passed the entrance, she felt the sense of gazes set upon her; she turned her head back, but saw no one.
Together, they slowed within the depths of the cave, soaked and weighted by the turmoil that had been thrust upon them.
Adler shifted and fell to the floor with a thud, trying to catch her breath as she looked around at the clearing of stone. The cave went further in, but there were no signs of death. They were safe, for now. Rokhā lowered herself to rest, looking at Adler as though she knew something that she did not.
"Mine apologies, Rokhā... The rains here come far faster than I am used to."
And they settled there, catching their breaths and letting the water upon their forms fall away.
Finally, when Adler rose to her feet and approached Rokhā again. It was only at that moment she realized that, at some point, the pack upon her back had fallen.
Gone were the equipment she had brought. She now bore only her satchel and Rosewind, the blade tight in its bindings at her side.
A soft curse left her lips as she turned crystal out to peer back toward the cave entrance, watching the drizzle of water meet the ground hard, trickling into the depths.
The water accumulated on the other side of the cave, forming a small river that continued further down within. A soft sigh escaped her as she peered back toward the darkness, a sense of dread stirring in her chest.
It seemed she would have no choice but to use her own aether here, lest there be some manner of crystal within that might help her. She looked to Rokhā, soaking wet and trembling.
She seemed more tired than usual, yet brave enough to carry Adler this far.
Wrath's essence pulled at something within her chest. Even she seemed to have grown to care for the beastkin.
Aligned as they were then, she turned toward the dark and began to make the descent. If there was a chance she might kindle a flame down there, she owed it to Rokhā to try.
The gentle drops of water slipped from the stalactites overhead, making small ripples across those otherwise still pond surfaces upon the floor.
The reflection of Adler's crystal shimmered as she passed, the dark seeming as though it were trying to close in on her.
'I feel another' Wrath warned.
"Voidsent?" Adler whispered, stopping in place beyond where they could see a colorful light ahead around a corner.
'No' Wrath returned.
Slowly, Adler began to approach the illumination, her steady steps carrying the weight of her motion with gentle crunches of grit.
When she peeked around the corner, it was then she witnessed the brilliance of iridescent crystal. They lined the wide walls, the high ceiling, even the very solid ground, save for a small path that had been made... and Sprites that hovered there to protect them-- each tending to their preferred domain.
She peered back down the path she had come, her own crystal still lighting much of her way. Adler would not need it here, not until she needed to leave.
Her steps echoed softly, then came to a pause at the sight of a series of marked maroon vases lining the base of crystal bundles. They had been packed and sealed, their contents unknown to her, but she left them best undisturbed, as she had learned previously.
Then the tremor of her stitches came-- the thin aetheric threads upon her skin. A soft gasp escaped her as she lowered her crystal. The crystalline clusters in the room held just enough light to keep the cave dim and leave her obscured.
Something was lurking in the dark beyond them, drawing an incredible spiritual influence.
Adler deemed it best to remain cautious. She crouched and leaned against a nearby stone, peering over the edge... and slowly, she reached down into her satchel to pull out a bundle of soaked reeds.
'It is not of the void. How boring...'
Adler came to a nearby bundle of fire crystals, lowering to a knee to cast her aether forth, calling the flames to catch to the reeds.
The warmth resounded and dried the reeds slowly, before catching flame. What was, perhaps, odd, was the ashy mist produced by the reeds-- casting out toward the cave and catching her eyes with a sudden burn.
"Hng!" Adler's breath hitched as she collapsed back.
It stung and watered her eyes. Adler tried to open them once more, but the sensation burned, and she writhed on the ground as the cave began to twirl and spin.
The crystals upon the walls had turned into faces she did not recognize at first, each witnessing her with crystalline stares of judgment.
Atyla's grief-stricken smile. "T'was not thy intention, yet thou hadst held the blade."
Th'essa's dire eyes sharpened. "Left me t' die in exchange fer yar own stitched skin."
Wither's chilling gaze. "Fed upon my soul till there was nothing left."
"Who is next?" They said, in unison.
"It was not my intention..." Adler quivered, recalling the desperation of every moment.
In those eyes, she looked to them all for a mercy that would not come.
Then she settled upon a face that she did not know. A face that bore limbals of spectacular sunset, horns of obsidian, and autumn locks.
It was her mother's own.
Not the adoptive one of the cold, harsh spires of Ishgard, but of the Tail Mountains. How steely her eyes were, how firm her composure, and how kind her worn smile appeared then.
"Kneel, child." Her voice came, whispered and rasped as Adler's own. "The trial comes."
Then, in the mist -- out from the shade of the darkness, the rumble began. It was that of a beating drum, sending forth pulses of aether through the cave.
Like a symphony of fluttering flashes, rings of light pulsed across the stone walls from ahead and back where she had come.
Again and again, in rhythmic fashion.
Backward feet came into view ahead, crystalline light shimmering upon them. At first, she thought someone was walking backward-- until she saw the furred, humanoid figure that had appeared before her.
Dreadlocks hung deep with age, thick and heavy. Large piercings adorned a face that seemed weighed down by years, and his strong body was covered in thick furs and feathers that dragged along the floor, sounding like the trickle of rain.
"Nhaama..." Adler shuddered softly.
And words began to boom from his lips.
"तँले सन्ध्यालाई देख्छौ। वनले पहाडको श्वास बोकेको छ र यो हाम्रो गीत हो। तिमीलाई दिइएको आत्मामा विश्वास गर, नहामाकी छोरी।"
In that moment, Adler felt the tightness in her muscles, the chill of the air digging into her skin, unable to look away.
As the entity approached, every beat of the drum sent a twitch through her. With all her strength, she clutched the burning reeds tightly and raised them toward the creature.
Only then did she see just how wide its eyes were.
Wrath, for the first time, stood outside of Adler's form, witnessing the trance. She had been cast away from her, a sense of freedom filling her own lungs.
At last.
She turned back toward the exit and began to run-- her pale skin stark against the dark. Her steps felt lighter than she remembered, and the floor did not feel so solid, yet she moved with quickened steps.
And as she reached the maw of the cave, there she saw Rokhā, and... a warmth within her. It was getting colder by the moment. The drums' pulses were still echoing from behind, shaking the cave, sending those thrums of white light forward.
A memory came then.
"Kahit saan ako - hahanapin ko ikaw."-- Wherever I am, I will find you. Adler had heard once.
Wrath had learned the meaning of it, and the weight of memory began to bloom.
And Wrath remembered her name then. His own true name.
In the distant autumn fields of a realm Wrath could scarcely remember, he was settled beside a woman who resembled Wither-- she whom he had killed not a few months prior.
Why was she here, with him?
The hunter, Wither, and the hunted, Wrath. That is what he remembered... And yet?
Beneath the bark, their hands were held. They conversed of the coming dark, the war, and what they would do when he would go fight for them.
She wore a beautiful dress of blue, as deep as her eyes, partially covered by lavender locks.
He had worn his finest garb, properly fitted and crafted of exquisite fabrics, but he was no noble, just one who played the part well enough.
"When the war is over, will you find me again, will you not Cian?"
Cian raised his hand with hers, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. His voice-- his own voice -- was warm, returning her words and easing the mind. A mutual exchange of earnest dreams for the future.
"Bláth, there is no war that could keep me from you. My love will reach you no matter the distance."
Then Wrath returned to that stark, chilling cave, the cold snap instant.
The memory shattered.
Standing alone in the hungering emptiness again, feeling that dreadful pull to the void.
"Bláth..." Cian said in a shaken breath, the vapor rising from his lips.
Wrath had eaten her to keep Adler and himself alive.
A sacrifice.
Did she know? All this time?
In the end, they had found one another.
If he set foot out into the valley, he would not be leaving just Adler to die, but Rokha and her child. And how much more could others bear to lose? How much could he?
This realm had made him soft.
His fist tightened and the surge of fury boiled within. That coward, that coward Angura! She deserved to die beneath the mountain. This is what she wanted, is it not?
But Wrath does not abide.
He turned. Swiftly, he turned and danced through the shadows like he were a part of them.
As he came closer to the crystalline fields within, there he bore witness to the strange gale-wrought entity beyond. It had entrapped the mind of the girl and drawn her into inaction.
But Wrath drew closer still. The nearer he came, the greater the force that fought to keep him back. Each pulse of light drove him away, a resounding trumpet call blaring with every strike-- yet he was not deterred.
He leaned forward and reached his hand out toward her.
Closer. Away. Closer. Away-- Closer still.
Adler's eyes were shut, whispering soft prayers to every god she knew.
Wrath understood in that moment why Bláth had sacrificed herself for them. It had been Adler who wished for her to live, after all.
The drumming grew quicker, knocking Wrath back from his stance-- but still he pressed forward. Adler had begun to close consciousness, arms at her sides, the flame slowly losing its light.
"We have not come this far to die now!"
And the wrath ignited, bursting like a brilliant, malevolent flame that fought back the force, the light of Wrath's rage casting back against the ravenous gale.
"This one is mine!!"
He transformed into the vulture beastkin of the skies, taking the form of a Lammergeier as he surged forth against the galeforged dark and collided into Adler's back--
Two souls, as one.
"We rise."
The instinct returned, kicking her feet back and pulling herself away from the entity. Adler stumbled to her feet, blind and unable to see-- but raising up nonetheless. The pull to act continued to come.
"We must turn. We must run."
She briefly opened her eyes. The cave still swirled and spun around her, reflections of herself shifting within the walls, while the fire in her hands burned brighter as she made for the exit.
"Trust our path. We sense the light ahead."
And Adler trusted that guidance. She felt it-- the pull of where to turn, where to run, and at last, when to settle. Her eyes remained tightly shut, still burning from the mist deeper within the cave... But she had no need of them here.
Wrath guided her forth until, in her exhaustion, she collapsed beside Rokhā, panting heavily upon the floor.
Two Angura stood at the entrance of the cave, simply watching from afar. In silence, they looked to one another.
When Adler finally looked up, they were gone. Yet she had felt their presence, if only for a moment.
Eventually, the storm had finally passed.
There Adler set the reeds down upon a bundle of fabrics she could spare, leaving them to burn for a time as she traversed back out into the wet dark, still not entirely certain what had happened in the cave.
Each time she returned, she carried a new bundle of sticks to feed the flame, drying them before casting them into the fire. Eventually, a proper blaze burned within the cave, and she had even managed to recover a few spare furs and a waterskin that had fallen from the pack during their initial hurried arrival.
She walked through the dark with the Crystal Catalyst floating above her hand, raised high as she watched the Angura following her from afar, always keeping her within their sights. Yet again, they did not approach. They seemed less concerned with being seen and more intent on making their presence known.
These Angura were larger, broad-shouldered figures armored in thick leather, stone, and mud. The only reason she noticed them at all were the limbal rings of their eyes glinting through the darkness.
Whenever she tried to approach them, they kept their distance, never allowing her too close. She had hoped they might guide her toward food, but she had managed to find a few berries on her own.
Her thoughts drifted back to Amelie and her scholarly words-- how to identify them...
It had been a long time since she had thought of The Sharlayan.
What might she say of all this?
"Addie, you can't just go sauntering off into the mountains!"
And then Amelie would have insisted someone go with her. She would be certain of it.
A soft chuckle escaped Adler as she identified the berry and began to eat beneath the shrub.
Once she returned with a final bundle of sticks and logs, she watched Rokhā grazing outside the cave, seemingly content with their newfound little hub. It seemed she was warm enough to get back on her feet.
As Adler approached the cave, she peered up along the cliff wall and realized there were three Angura settled against it, looking down over her. Each held a strange pole dug into the mountain stone, keeping them steady. They were like sentinels etched upon the stone.
She gave them a wave, accidentally dropping a few of the sticks that she promptly moved to pick up.
One on the left laughed, raising a hand to wave back.
The thinner lithe one at the center swatted him against the chest, and soon the other on the right was laughing as well.
There was a sway in her tail then. She liked these ones much more... They had not attacked her. Then again, she had not disturbed their sacred grounds, so perhaps it had been less their wish and more a honed duty.
"Timi kina yeti anautho dekhinchau?" the Angura upon the left asked.
"Pray, I do not understand..." Adler called up, her rasp making it difficult to truly call back.
They seemed to discuss something among themselves, particularly with the one at the center. He was not like the other two, Adler realized, but similar to those who had attacked her upon the ridge, she surmised. He had joined them? For what purpose?
"I am..." The one on the left paused, glancing back toward the center figure for confirmation. When it came, he straightened and spoke louder. "Hilohaat!"
Hilohaat was adorned in heavier leathers, his skin just as rustic in tone as the other two. His features were sharp and prominent, and he seemed as though he smiled often.
Then he gestured toward the one on the far right, who spoke up quickly. "Ucchamān."
In contrast, Ucchamān appeared more measured, though not displeased-- more curious than anything. Both were of equal stature and might.
Hilohaat pointed to Ucchamān, then to himself, extending both arms outward to show just how broad their figures were, and how mighty their scales appeared beneath the leather at their chests.
"Bahādur... Warriors!!!" They each smiled wide and proud.
The one in the center seemed displeased, gazed fixed upon Adler. Then he too spoke.
"Ragahāwā," he said, beating a hand against his chest. "Hēryāhā."
Ragahāwā was lithe and smaller than the other two, his features painted and his attire more decorated with feathers and cloth than leather, though some leather was still present. These were the marks of the very kind of Angura that Adler had met at the cliffside, she was certain now.
What distinguished him most was the size of his horns. They were smaller, but more plentiful upon him. Six small horns, Adler counted.
Then Ragahāwā gestured downward. "What name?"
Adler spoke their names softly after each introduction, then stammered for a moment and straightened. She was not sure whether she should drop the sticks, but she bowed, then spoke when she rose.
"Adler, of the Angura."
The other two's expressions dropped, though the Hēryāhā seemed already aware.
"Not true name?" Hilohaat asked.
"N-Nay. I have come to claim it."
Then they seemed to speak among themselves in words she still did not understand. It was not like the Old Auri of the Steppe. Whatever was said appeared to concern the one at the center, though the other two seemed entirely unconvinced.
There was one word that continued to repeat.
Jhānkri.
Now, as she sat by the flame, she could still hear their voices just beyond the cave maw-- until they grew quieter and quieter.
She would remain within the cave until the remnants of the storm had passed and night gave way. Without the oak rod, she would have to find what she could from the land.
Leaning exhausted against the cave wall, she hugged her knees, peering toward the dark, then back toward the cave opening as her eyes grew heavy.
There was but one thought lingering in her mind, and it alone found her lips.
"Hm, Wrath?" she mused softly, "Who is Cian?"
But Wrath did not respond, and Adler drifted once more to sleep, her thoughts dwelling on the snowy mountain peaks as she wondered of the name that awaited her.
What was she to become?
