Chapter 4

W itching hour was when the veil between worlds and spirit realms was thinnest.

It was as though the fabric of the night had been torn, allowing an unseen malevolence to seep through.

Liana flew through the night, her crimson wings beating against the dead air, willing a current so she’d rest for a moment and glide.

Fokk, she was tired.

She’d been in flight for a span, evading the sense an elusive phantom was hunting her.

The unceasing impression had haunted her for weeks now.

Apart from a few furtive hours in a cave, sleep had evaded her.

For nourishment, she’d licked sap from the sweet nectar khailis tree for days, having fallen in love with its tang.

She missed meat, fish, and fresh fruit, but there was no returning to her tent by the River Korcha, convinced it was under surveillance, monitored by the same spirit lurking in the shadows of her perception.

Liana banked midair and squinted against the moon’s full illumination, her crimson hair whipping across her face. She caught a glimpse of a distant turret between two mountains.

The legendary city of Ilkana was a glittering jeweled oasis rising from the desert sands.

Minarets and domes of gold leaf sparkled in the weak light. It was a sight of breathtaking beauty, yet she felt uncomfortable.

What lay within those high fortifications?

Whatever it was, it didn’t bode well.

For it was where her attackers had come from over the last few spans.

She veered away, sensing an ill wind over it.

All she knew was that the plumed assaulters were desperate to capture her. For what purpose, she did not know.

Her wings beat in power-driven flaps as they soared over the undulating dunes.

The searing night heat pressed down like a physical weight, but Liana was blind to it all. Focused only on finding her somewhere to lay her head down.

Still, the stars danced overhead, and the night sky unveiled its glory. She wished she were free to get lost in its beauty.

She drew an inhale when, all of a sudden, her nape feathers stiffened.

Something was off, a ripple in the air that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

She dove, twisting and turning, scouring the horizon until her glance fell on a disturbance, a swirl of darkness just over the desert below.

The wind howled through the endless dunes, sweeping grains into swirling eddies that danced and dissipated into the shimmering edge of the planet. Narrowing her eyes at the distance where, a mighty dusty khamsin stretched across the skyline.

She flinched, worried.

There was something ill-intentioned in that gale.

She swiveled her head to gaze at the city behind her.

It was no sanctuary.

So she steeled herself and winged towards the storm, hoping to make her way through it.

Minutes later, she was cursing. ‘Why the fokk did I try to beat a khaboob?’

Liana’s crimson wings battled against the howling winds, her rachís straining as it sought to break free from the maelstrom’s grasp.

Sand and debris swirled around her, pummeling her feathers and obscuring her vision.

‘By the gods, this is no ordinary tempest!’ Liana cried, her melodic voice almost lost in the tempest’s roar.

Arcane energies crackled through the churning clouds, thrumming with malevolent power.

Her mind raced.

This was sorcery most foul, a dark magic conjured to ensnare her.

But who would dare assault an immortal being of fire and light? What twisted purpose drove this attack?

The cyclone intensified, assaulting the kríffin from all sides with unrelenting wrath.

It took every ounce of Liana’s strength and grace to navigate the chaotic vortex. One misstep, one falter, and she would be dashed upon the ground.

Summoning inner reserves of courage and fortitude, she pushed, her resolve hot and bright as the living flame that composed her essence.

‘Fokk!’ she cried out, her frustration building.

Without warning, the whirlwind coalesced into a writhing mass of animated foliage.

Gnarled trees and thorny branches, ripped from the earth by the storm’s fury, hurtled through the air at her, wrapping around her limbs and wings and immobilizing her.

Even more horrific were the diabolical heads at the end of the vines, snapping and tearing at her, pulling at her rachís , threatening to tear her apart

The kríffin had only a heartbeat to react before the first projectile struck.

Reaching to her nape, Liana tugged out a pair of crimson koyas .

Each elongated into lean and shaped into sleek swords, shimmering with ancient runes that danced and shifted like living embers.

She slashed them at the bewitched foliage, howling as a hefty branch slammed into one wing, sending her careening with wild abandon.

Pain lanced through her body, but she fought to the right itself, banking hard to evade the onslaught.

More vines and branches twisted, encircling the phoenix and constricting her movements.

The ulcerous plants appeared to possess a malicious intelligence, seeking to trap and crush their prey.

They wrapped around Liana’s legs, wings, and neck, tightening with excruciating anguish.

Focusing on her innate magic, she unleashed a burst of crimson lightning from the end of her rachís .

The bolts crackled and seared, incinerating the encroaching foliage to ash.

But for each vine burned away, a dozen more took its place.

Her struggles only seemed to enrage the verdant tempest further.

It redoubled its assault, hurling more trees and coiling its vines to wrap its target.

Her heart hammered in its chest as she fought, desperate to break free.

How long could she maintain this stalemate? How long until her strength gave out?

She called upon the utmost of her fiery essence, gathering all the motes of her courage as she strove to endure the relentless attack.

As Liana teetered on the brink of unconsciousness, a new presence emerged from the shadows.

Dark, winged silhouettes, their forms cloaked in an inky blackness that appeared to swallow and engulf the light surrounding them.

They moved with a silent, predatory grace, their red eyes glinting with a malevolent intelligence.

Her eyes went to their elaborate flank plumes, six flag-tipped long, lustrous barbs projecting back from their heads, and glowing head streamers with an enameled appearance.

Liana’s heart seized.

Her pursuers had found her again.

Her wrath and frustration boiled over, and her phoenix powers intensified. The air around Liana grew charged.

Waiting until it crackled, she launched gold, sable cinders, and lightning flames in a beautiful war of elements and light.

It had no effect against the swarming vines that were now choking her.

She tried to implode herself, to die and rise once more, but her limbs and wings froze.

Her hunters neared.

Two of them detached from their flock and flew toward her, the storm of enchanted foliage not affecting them. They drew up to her, and one of them leaned in.

A strange hissing voice emanated from their shadowed visage. ‘Liana, only we can free you of the Vine of Kahanum.’

The incessant and snapping creeper heads continued their attack, one of them squeezing her torso tighter.

‘How do you know my name, and what do you fokkin’ want with me?’

The creatures did not respond. They circled the ensnared kríffin , their movements menacing.

She sensed their dark magic probing at its mind, seeking to penetrate her thoughts and memories.

‘Leave me!’ Liana snarled, mustering her strength to resist the psychic intrusion. But it was a losing battle.

The vines held it fast, and the entities’ power was too formidable.

Liana’s struggles grew weaker, her consciousness slipping away until, at last, she hung limp and unresistant in its bonds.

She struggled to stay awake and even move, but the kízakan now encircling her was too potent, and she dipped in and out of awareness.

Sensing the fight was gone from her, the inky silhouettes moved in closer, their dark wings blotting out the sky.

With a swift, brutal efficiency, they seized the Liana in their talons.

Her vision faded in and out as the darkness closed in around her. She was caught in the vines’ suffocating embrace and the malevolent companions’ cold, pitiless gaze.

They let out a series of guttural clicks and hisses, their language harsh and alien, and the offending flora fell away, imploding into ash.

Revealing Liana’s vibrant crimson feathers that contrasted with their murky, deep sable rachís .

Though their words were unintelligible, their intentions were clear: they had captured their prize and would carry her back to their obscure realm.

Liana stirred, a faint moan escaping her lips.

For a moment, it appeared she might find the strength to fight back against its captors.

But the creatures’ magic was too potent, their grip too strong.

With a mighty surge of their pinions, the dark-winged forms rose into the air, the kríffin held fast in their grasp.

They moved with a terrifying speed and agility, their plumed silhouettes cutting through the sky like blades through silk.

Liana’s mind drifted in a haze of pain and confusion as they flew.

Fragmented memories flashed through her thoughts. She visualized the sun’s warmth on her feathers, the rush of the wind beneath her wings, and the joyous song of her voice raised in harmony.

But those recollections faded, replaced by a growing sense of despair.

Deep in her heart, she feared she was being carried away from her fleeting freedom. From everything she had ever understood and treasured, and that she might never find her way back.