Monsters and Maidens

The burning had been slow to subside, and with its passing, Rick was left sweltered and exhausted. His mind could barely grasp consciousness, keeping his eyes open was a struggle. But he couldn’t let himself fall, no matter what. For one, slipping would mean becoming lost.

The feline maiden had been lugging him like he weighed nothing. She didn’t speak or bother hurting him, she merely carried him as she jumped and ran. She left Balet as the city was filled with screams and fire. There had been guards, maidens, that had tried to stop her.

And none survived the encounter.

Now the maiden was sprinting across the farmland as if she had wings on her back, and Rick was nothing more than the sack of potatoes she was carrying around.

He had a second reason for fighting the weight in his eyelids and strain against his chest. Rick wasn’t sure if Monica would be able to find him if he passed out. It was a reasonable fear, all things considered. While Monica was conscious, he’d been able to find her general direction even if not the distance. But whenever Monica slept, the feeling was muted, quiet, harder to notice.

And unconsciousness might result in that feeling being all the harder to notice and track.

So he endured.

His body was lead, his eyes weighed and his limbs too exhausted to even move, but he struggled, fighting to keep himself as awake as he could, as observant as he could. Monica and Dia were out there and they were looking to get to him. At the very least, if the nameless feline wanted him dead, she’d have killed him already.

There was hope.

And so he waited.

He tried to keep himself focused, on the golden fields shimmering under moonlight, on the glowing lights in the distance, on the snarl that seemed to emanate out of the maiden with every step she took. It would be an hour before he was tossed to the ground, Rick didn’t have the strength to stand back up. His body felt like it had been burned from the inside.

The maiden with orange stripped fur and claws only barely looked at him.

She left.

At first Rick suspected she’d left in search for something, maybe they had a camp somewhere, or maybe there was something she was looking for. Why bother bringing him here and dropping him off and then just… leaving? Maybe she was certain he couldn’t go anywhere with the hole she’d made in his leg?

Slowly, clenching his teeth, he managed to sit up. His head was spinning, it was hard to focus on anything other than the… where was he? It was far from the roads, a grove of some kind, at the foot of a small hill. There was little else in any direction other than some trees and grassland.

Panting as he moved, he confirmed the injury in his leg. The shadowy attack had punctured through his calf but not the bone. Everything below the knee was drenched in blood, but it seemed the bleeding had stemmed.

The pain helped stay awake, however.

That was good, stay awake, stay focused. He grunted, pressing down on the injury and trying to pay more attention. Where was the feline? Where had she gone? His brain sluggishly started to pick apart the details, they’d been attacked. The why was important, but he didn’t have enough information for that.

So now he was left wondering what was going to happen now.

The feline couldn’t have just taken him here out of amusement. It’s not like she didn’t have a chance to kill him. But she hadn’t.

He looked around again. Dawn was approaching, the meadow had only a couple dozen trees, and not a sign of anyone or anything within the immediate vicinity. Grimacing, Rick turned his focus inward. Monica was… focused on him, she was coming. From where he lay he couldn’t see the city, but he could sense her emotions, even if at a distance.

He needed to figure out what was going on.

They’d entered the house, the fight started, but neither the shadowy figure nor the feline had aimed to kill him. Granted, the former didn’t get much of a chance, but the latter certainly had opportunities to spare. Why would she bring him here?

Monica was getting closer, her focus was sharpening, her emotions becoming clearer, mild apprehension and a great deal of concern. She could tell where he was, and no doubt she could sense him, but also the other maiden.

The other maiden that was like Monica.

She could hide in shadows.

Rick’s eyes widened, looking around wildly, and then focusing. A singular idea, as clear as he could make it. He grit his teeth and tried to pass the idea to Monica as best he could.

It was a trap, and he was the bait.

“Monica!”

His voice didn’t stop her, instead, she only seemed that much more determined. Within moments he could see the streak of white that was dashing in his direction at a dizzying speed, going on all fours to keep herself low on the ground. Monica was leaving a trail of torn earth and upturned soil, a storm of movement. Her blue eyes weren’t looking at him, they were scanning the area as she approached, the closer she got the harder she ran.

She wasn’t slowing down.

Rick’s eyes widened.

Was she…?

Her gaze locked on him.

Everything happened so fast.

A split second with too many things happening all at once.

Rick’s heart beat once.

Monica entered the meadow, a shadow sprung from between the trees, a spear of darkness. Monica didn’t even look to dodge by jumping over it, a second spine emerged, and she ducked under, a third thrust directly from below and she side-stepped.

A second beat, his breath escaped in a gasp.

Monica vanished into the shadows, emerging half a meter ahead, three spikes tore at the air where she would’ve been otherwise. Her claws dug into the dirt, throwing it behind her explosively.

Third beat, his voice caught in his throat.

She was airborne, a pounce, a mistake, two more spikes thrust downwards from within the foliage of the treets. In response Monica kicked at the air as if it were solid. And her trajectory changed as if there had been an invisible wall for her to bounce off of.

Fourth beat, his eyes widened.

Like a heat seeking missile, she rocketed straight towards him, her body shrouded in wisps of shadows and darkness. Blue eyes gleamed with focused determination, claws prepared to reach out and grab him.

Fifth beat.

Something emerged from the shadows in front of Rick. It was not a spike, it was not an attack, it was the feline. She seemed to be intent on saying something. The very first notes of a word had rang out, a smug proclamation that came with a sharp sensation against Rick’s neck.

Monica didn’t stop.

She tackled the now shocked feline, shoving them both into the shadows.

And then they were gone.

Rick’s head whirled around, trying to find them.

He saw nothing but the grove and the first rays of sunlight.

A full second later, there was a roar several hundred meters behind him, just outside the meadow.

The fight had begun.