Aria [4]
Psychos and Psychopomps
The Averhawk River
“Find the Psychopomps?”
Altair gave Aria a dubious look.
“Yes, find the Psychopomps. They’re the hunt and kill type, I’ve heard plenty about them. With them, we can find who killed our forest, and give them a taste of their own Haine-damned medicine!” Aria announced, determined as she was tired.
The early morning sun smiled down on them and the roadside patch of grass on which they lay. Aria took the map from the satchel on her side and did her best to fold out the creases, laying it on the tree stump they sat around. After hours of walking in the hopes to outrun their hunters and the possible Marksmen on their trail, Aria had suggested they rest by the dirt road and rest for a while. She’d taken three apples from the satchel tossed it to Altair to use his stupidly super-human strength to break them in half and share amongst the six of them. Each munching on an apple-half, they tried to regain their strength. Darius did this by laying face-first in the grass, possibly asleep and sunning himself through the boiled leather on his back whilst Angela used him as a pillow, drawing the heat from him like a lizard on a rock.
Puck in his skin of a crow sat on the stump, pecking away at his apple half, whilst Altair paced about, and Charliza slept soundly, her mint hair almost blending into the grass bed.
Aria pointed to the map, “We’re here, on a road just beside Shadewood. If we follow these train tracks we should end up in Redmourn. From there, we find a way onto a train headed to the capitol and find the Psychopomps, The Elders and Charliza’s dad,” She said, trailing her pointer from the Redmourn city marker, up the dotted lines marking the train tracks all the way up to the Capitol.
“Easier said than done,” Altair grunted, holding his hands behind his back.
Aria took in a deep breath, and rubbed her eyes, “I know, I know. If we bring Charliza, she can offer at least a guide to how things work in the city. We’ve lived our whole lives in the forest, so she’s not dead weight,” She defended her newfound smithy friend whom Altair eyed.
“Right,” Altair sighed, nudging Angela and Darius. “Before we head on our way, let’s scavenge about for some water and food in Shadewood. Darius and Charliza stay in the brush and keep a look out, no-one venture too deep and keep quiet, if you see a hunter or Marksmen get back to the roadside straight away,” He ordered.
“Puck and I will go find a stream and fill the water skins,” Aria said, Altair nodding in reply. Puck glided over to her and led her into the forest, following the faint babble of a stream she heard ahead.
Tired and her mind fogged, Aria yelped when she stumbled into the nipping stream. She leapt out into the small clearing by a rock face, and that’s when Aria heard the low buzz and flutter of wings. The flutter did not belong to Puck’s dark wings, but of something slightly smaller, but not small enough to be a bug’s.
What the…I’m-I’m tired, I haven’t slept all night and been walking for hours…I’m hearing things…
Yet despite her thoughts, Aria crept forward toward the tree that seemed to be producing the sound. Puck materialised beside her, two black feathers drifted about. He rested an arm on her shoulder and leaned in with her as Aria cleared the brush covering a rock, some strange, blue glowing object rested atop.
“A fairy?” Aria said under her breath, prodding the sleeping blue creature and examining it closer. The best word to describe her was, blue. She was portly, despite the drawings of them Aria had seen, with blue skin, wearing a light blue dress and short, curled, midnight blue hair.
“A blue fairy,” Jeremiah added, suddenly on her other side. Aria jumped slightly, and looked to Puck beside her, still staring down on the fairy. Aria creased her brows, and nudged Puck in the shoulder, and motioned to Jeremiah beside her. Puck looked directly at Jeremiah, and seemed clueless to the white-haired boys presence.
Why the hell can’t Puck see him? I almost thought Jeremiah was some half-conscious delusion. Then again, since when were delusions so informative about trapping werewolves?
“Never mind, just fill the skin and get back to the group, I’ll take care of this,” Aria said, slightly irate. Puck slightly winced at her quick brush off, and wandered off amongst the trees.
“Who the hell are you?” Aria snapped with a curse of the Forgotten World.
“A good friend,” Jeremiah said sly-like, lent against a tree he bit his knuckle slightly.
“Why couldn’t Puck see you?” Aria asked, peering around to check he was gone.
Jeremiah tsked and angled his head against the trunk of the tree.
“I told you, I’m a friend…a straightforward friend. If you’re going to make it to the capitol, you know, alive, you’re going to need help. Specifically, you need my help,” He offered.
“And what, unbelievably amazing help can you offer?” Aria asked, standing.
“Another pair of invisible eyes for one thing and a breathing library of knowledge. Besides that, unlike the others that enjoy dancing around clear answers, I’m a tad forward. I am a Daemon, your daemon. My existence is based around keeping you alive, and helping you understand this,” Jeremiah said, holding Aria’s hand marked with the Phoenix.
“Ok, if you’re so straightforward, what is this mark and why do I have it?” Aria asked, staring down at the mysterious mark.
At that, Jeremiah gave her a sly smirk. He took her hand and tugged her close, putting his other hand on her hip, as if ready to dance.
“Close you eyes,” He said.
“I don’t trust you,” Aria replied simply.
“You don’t have to, just close them for a single second, you can even stab me if you feel so inclined,” Jeremiah countered. Sighing, Aria closed her eyes.
When she opened them, they were in the field of orange tulips once more.
Am I just asleep? Or have I simply gone mad?
He still held her, yet no warmth came from his white-gloved hands. They danced.
“So, what is a Daemon?” Aria asked, trying to follow his lead as she only had a faint idea of how to dance, especially so compared to how graceful he moved. He seemed to almost ignore her question as he said, “You know, this dance is an old one. It was famous amongst the English nobles, called The Weeping of The White Willow Tree. It’s always been a favourite of mine, as it reflects three humble elements of my own. The roots, the trunk and its branches, and just like this, there are three aspects to Daemons. The Alteration of Perspective, the Six Eyes are better than two and We Shatter so you Sustain. The roots, The Alteration, the trunk, the Six eyes, The Shatter, the leaves. The Alteration of Perspective allows us to interact with our charges, but not be seen by others. Others will see a mirage of what really happens, and six eyes? Two of yours, two of mine, and always keep another pair with you. And the we Shatter so you Sustain, that’s something I think I’ll keep for now.”
“Keeping it for yourself?” Aria muttered, knowing however quiet she was he’d hear.
“I need some leverage, don’t I?” Jeremiah grinned.
This is absurd.
They whisked amongst the tulips that danced with them in the wind that smelled distinctly of autumn.
“We need each other. But we don’t trust each other,” He said, tipping her back so Aria’s fiery hair brushed the tulips.
Jeremiah rested Aria on the angle of the hill, rested amongst swaying flowers and grass. He rested beside her, his glasses crooked and falling down his face.
“What is this mark?” Aria said under her breath, holding her hand up above them, the suns rays streaking out behind her palm and stretching across the sky.
“You’ve inherited a gift. A gift that’ll either kill you or save you. It’s called the Wyvern of Obsidian. The Wyverns in these lands are all about illusions, blending into their environments so they appear like something else, so they can lash out and take out their prey without them knowing they were ever being hunted. That Phoenix on your palm is no Phoenix. See the elongated fore-claws and primary feathers? No Phoenix is ever painted so, as none really exist…but, Wyverns are certainly real enough to kill you with those fore-claws,” Jeremiah explained, resting his arms behind his head.
“So I inherited a trickster? Also, you promised not to be vague,” Aria replied.
“You’re welcome,” Jeremiah smiled.
Welcome?
“You had the Wyvern mark before me?” She said, puzzled.
He sat up, and ran a hand through his snowy hair.
“In a way-” he began.
“-Vague,” She cut in. Jeremiah sighed, and rested his head between his hands.
“Aria. Just close your eyes.”
The moment she blinked, she was back in the clearing. The faint buzzing returned.
“Fairies are rare, even in nature environments. They’re generally guides, for a price,” Jeremiah chipped in.
Aria crouched by the fairy, and patted her glassy wings slightly.
“Hey…you right there?” She said softly.
The blue fairy shifted, and sat up, rubbing her eyes with a flutter of her wings.
There was a low whistle, a hum about her.
“Hello?” Aria said.
“Who the fuck are you?” The fairy said in the most innocent voice the two had ever heard.
“Um…I’m Aria,” She introduced herself, taken aback.
Then, the fairy looked straight to Jeremiah, saying, “Who’s this?”
Then, Aria was truly taken aback. “Wait, wait. You see him?”
“Well I’m not fucking blind,” The Fairy cursed, getting to her feet.
“Ah…ok, this is Jeremiah,” Aria said, waving over to him.
“Well, what the fuck do you want?” The Fairy muttered.
Aria opened her water skin and dumped it on the fairy.
“Hey!” The Fairy snapped, buzzing up into the air, shaking the water off.
“First, I want you to wash out that mouth of yours. Secondly, my friend Jeremiah says your people are good guides, and we’re in need of a good guide.” Aria said, plain and simple.
“I said they’re good guides, but I failed to mention the fact that fairies don’t just appear out of nowhere at any ones convenience. Who are you working for?” Jeremiah said, pinching the fairy’s wings and holding her up despite her struggling.
“Are you being serious right now?” Aria exclaimed.
“I don’t fucking belong to anyone you albino, orange eyed fucker!” The Fairy squealed, her voice even more high-pitched. Much to the fairies dislike, Jeremiah examined her.
“Hmm…there’s no mark. Do you see an owl, or a greyhound?” He asked Aria.
Aria raised an eyebrow, and plucked the sour-mouthed, shaken fairy away from him, resting her in her palms.
“You’re insane. Actually, let me take that back. Invisible man stop interrogating the blue fairy guide for a dog or owl tattoo,” Aria commanded, patting the fairies head lightly.
The two stood up straight, and Jeremiah put his hands on his hips.
“What’s your name kid?” He asked.
With a buzz of wings she said, “Starla,” with a sing-song echo to her voice.
“Right, Starla, nice to meet you. What is it that you want?” Jeremiah asked in the nicest voice she’d heard him attempt to use. Starla sighed and stretched her little blue legs out.
“I want out of this fucking forest. My hollow is full of mud and insects, and there’s always birds trying to fucking eat me like little chicken shits and it’s just so dirty!” Starla complained.
“Terribly surprising that the forest would be dirty,” Jeremiah said, his English lilt coming out in full swing.
Aria nudged his shoulder and said, “Well, where we need to go, it’s actually quite clean and civilized with little to no birds. Promise.”
“No birds you say?” Starla said, hovering up into the air, her glassy wings buzzing happily.
“No birds,” Jeremiah reiterated.
They returned with their guide, and sat amongst the undergrowth. Starla sat on Aria’s right shoulder, whilst Puck’s crow skin sat on her left. He cawed cautiously whilst he preened his feathers, his emerald eyes aglow.
“I’ve seen some weird shit in my life, but I’ve never seen a damn fairy before,” Altair said sardonically, crouched with the rest of them.
I’d like to hope that this is still some kind of fever dream. I can believe some things, like maybe a long time ago there are werewolves, and there are some crazies out there still hunting them…but invisible boys transporting me off to some field of tulips. But, a Wyvern of Obsidian? I didn’t even know there were many Wyverns left. And now…Fairies? Damn it…if we’re going to make it I can’t let myself get tangled up in all these questions. Which, thinking of it now will probably get me killed, but, if I try to reason with any of this, it’ll send me insane. The best I can do is give myself a goal…a purpose. Find the Psychopomps. Find the Elders. Find Charliza’s dad. Find the bastard who killed my forest.
Aria introduced the fairy to everyone, and asked, “Alright Starla, how do we get to Redmourn?”
The fairy buzzed upwards and looked out over to the road. “First of all, we don’t go to Redmourn. We walk the tracks of the Arc, and catch a ride.”
“What now?” Darius questioned, tipping from his haunches back onto his arse.
“You mean to say we’re just going to catch a ride on the Ark?” He exclaimed.
“Precisely asshat!” Starla said excitedly.
“The Ark is the largest train ever built, in the Forgotten World and the New World. It’s maintained by the Smoke Men, who’ve lived their whole lives on the Ark. It goes from each major city to the next, a major a source of trade and sale amongst the cities for its fast pace and few maintenance needs since the crew lives on board. The first car belongs to the Smoke Men, they drive and live there. The Second car houses the coal supply and engines.
The third car has four levels, all of them used for Civilian transport between city stations. The fourth has domestic quarters, basically a micro city. The fifth is a greenhouse, in it’s grown a range of foreign plants and vegetables as to not contaminate the natural environment of the New World. The tail-end car, six and seven are used to house goods and supplies. The very last car is identical to the head, so the train can run both ways, when it gets to Terraghar it can run backwards. With thousands of Bellas worth of trade alone in the two tail cars, the whole train has it’s own artillery. But…there is a compartment up top, a space, a cramped space mind you, but space in the roofing that we can use to smuggle ourselves in the tail cars,” She explained.
“Thanks for the tour, but how do you expect a continental train to happen to be at the spot we need it to be?” Angela remarked, leant against Altair.
“The train follows the moon cycle, does it not?” Aria brought up, taking a stick and tracing the moon patterns in an arc into the dirt.
“Yes, yes. When the moon is in a Waxing Crescent it’s due in Mettaghar, Terraghar’s station, Waxing Quarter it goes to Westerport, Waxing Gibbous it’s in the Southern Sprawl, at the full moon it’s in Iron Truss, which is where we need to be,” Starla said.
“How long, exactly will this take for us to get there?” Darius asked, chewing on a piece of grass.
“Well, on it’s usual route it’d take about twenty five to twenty nine days. But, with the rise of the Monolith the Ark is on route to Westerport to send aid, which lessens its travel time to a week at the most,” Starla enlightened.
“A week in a cramped up roof?” Altair grumbled, hunched over.
“Would you rather go on foot and get there by winter?” Aria reasoned.
“Train hunting it is, then,” Darius said, jumping to his feet.
~ ~ ~
After a few hours of walking, led by the foul-mouthed fairy, they left the forest and dirt highway behind and made their way out into open fields. Darius piggybacked onto Altair’s back, whilst the others trudged down and up the grassy slopes until they finally found the tracks. They followed them in silence in single file…until Darius began a low whistle.
For a moment, that’s all there was in the world. The crunch of their footsteps against the grass and soil, the hum of the wind and Darius’s whistle.
Then, Altair began to sing.
“The storms a’ howling
The winds are blowing…
My darling, I’ll keep a’ rowing down this river.”
Charliza continued.
“Oh, my darling
Oh, my darling, I’ll keep rowing
If only you’ll be there to remind me of home.”
They sung together now, Angela and Aria joining in.
“The fires a’ raging
The lightning comes a’ raining down
The nights a’ growing darker
The bullets a’ biting deeper
The swords a’ painting crimson
Oh, my darling
Oh, my darling, I’ll keep a’ rowing down this river
If only you’d be there at the end.”
As Darius whistled that final note, a roar of a steam engine sounded in response, not so far behind. They all spun around and spied the Ark, copper and shining in the horizon, fast approaching.
“Run, run now!” Starla cried, flying from Aria’s and shoulder and ahead. They chased after the fairy.
“Wait, why are we running?” Charliza shouted over the growing noise of the engine.
“If we’re going to have a chance of getting on that train we need to have a head start!” Altair called in response in the lead.
They ran, and they ran, yet the train caught up faster than Aria thought possible. When her head turned to spy the oncoming train, Aria realized what it must feel like to be an ant. It stood so many feet tall it overshadowed them all, and passed them by as a human might pass an ant, indifferent and neither noticing the tiny creature by its boot. The wheels of the train were two heads taller than they were, and spun so furiously it was a copper blur.
Those things area death trap. We take one step too close and it’ll slice us to bits, besides that we’re falling behind already!
“What now?” Aria shouted at the top of her lungs. Starla motioned to the two tail cars behind them, the wheels skirted with iron and copper plates and a series of rungs stretching far up onto the roof.
“Ok, ok, find something to grab onto on the last two cars, then get onto the rungs and get to the roof!” Aria cried into the wind, hoping desperately they’d heard her.
With her heart pounding, boots slamming against the dirt and out of breath, Aria spun round and with one hand caught a rung, the sweat on her hand causing her to almost lose her grip. Wind tearing at her clothes and hair Aria threw herself against the trains side and squinted her eyes open. Puck had shifted into a crow and flown up and onto the roof of the Ark, as she could see his silhouette looking down on them. The others had made it, clinging onto the side with Charliza a few rungs below her.
Is that everyone? Altair, Angela, Darius, Charliza, Puck and…Starla’s in my pocket and Jeremiah is invisible once again.
Pressed, shaky and slipping slightly Aria climbed one rung at a time. By the time she reached the half-way point, Aria felt as though her limbs were going to detach from her body. Joints aching, fingers numb from the cold and feet stiff, Aria made it to the top eventually followed by the others. Puck helped her up and they lay flat on the roof, holding onto whatever they could. One by one the others followed them up top, and Starla poked her head out from Aria’s pocket in her pants.
“Up there, the latch!” Charliza motioned. On their bellies they crawled to the latch, and with a grunt Charliza and Altair lifted the latch ajar enough for the six of them to slip through into the space.
It was musty, and smelled of grain and dust. Dust mites flittered around, and the space was tall enough for them to sit on their haunches. But, unlike outside it was warm, almost cosy if it wasn’t so cramped. There were a number of boxes stacked to the side covered with blankets, and two long panels of reinforced glass providing a slim view of the countryside racing far down below. They all sat, poor Altair angling his neck to fit. Aria shrugged off her satchel and opened it, fishing through it to find a few pieces of fruit left.
“This’ll feed us for about two days at the most, but if we’re gonna be here for a week we need to find some food. Altair, Darius, poke around in those boxes and see what you find. Angela, check around the space and see what you find. Charliza and I will find if there’s a way to move through the train without having to get on the roof.
They shuffled around awkwardly until they found a ventilation shaft, to which Aria pried open with her blade.
“So, what exactly are we looking for?” Charliza asked, wriggling about slightly in discomfort.
“Maybe some kind of boxed goods we can borrow from, we also need source of water too,” Aria replied. Side by side they crawled through the vent, hearing the trains rumbles clearer. Eventually they made it to the next car, and pried open the next vent. And there, they found the garden. Below them, they looked down upon an entire level of green. Of flowers, grass, vines and plants that neither had seen before. The entire car was of glass windows letting the sunlight pour through and down upon the garden. Even a brook babbled amongst the trees, and fruit hung plump from the vines and branches, ripe for the picking.
Aria rested her head on her arms and despite herself, smiled.
“What’s up with you?” Charliza asked, smiling in turn.
“Reminds me of home,” Aria mumbled happily.333Please respect copyright.PENANAeKfaeAWyCQ
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They returned to the small-space and shared the news with the others.
“I found a few bags of salt and about a dozen tins of beans. You like salt? Because I like salt,” Altair reported, a bag in his lap he ate pinches of salt from.
“Salt’s all yours Alt. There’s not a whole lot to do, so…one of us will keep watch one at a time. Angela, you take first watch,” Aria said.
~ ~ ~
When night fell, they’d all fallen asleep except Aria that was, with Starla asleep on the sill of the window before her. They’d lain down blankets and huddled together in a line, Charliza beside her.
“You’ve got a plan, right?” Jeremiah said softly, laying beside her.
“You know the plan, I’ve said it a dozen times already. Get to the capitol, find the elders, find the Psychopomps, find Charliza’s dad.”
“I’m curious about the Psychopomps, please, elaborate. You talk about them as if they’re your salvation, yet I haven’t a clue what they really do.” Jeremiah asked.
Aria thought for a moment. “They’re…investigators, I suppose. For a few years I’d heard stories and for the longest time I thought they were just that, stories. Until one day Marksmen turned up along with a bunch of Valkyries, which was something no-one in my clan had ever seen before. They turned up with a bounty and a wanted poster, looking for the Psychopomps. Last time I heard, The Empire didn’t put out bounties for fairy tales. They were looking for a blonde haired girl with molten gold eyes, a boy with purple hair and with orchid eyes, a tall man with auburn hair and arms that could strangle a python, and a girl with a buzz-cut of black hair and a comb-over of white shoulder length hair and turquoise eyes. When we get to the capitol, we’ll figure out what we do from there,” Aria said.
“Only advice I can offer is that not matter how well you plan for some things, doesn’t mean it’s gonna work out. All I’m saying is, be prepared to have your preparations go to shit,” Jeremiah offered, closing his eyes to go to sleep.
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