Thick smoke blanketed the sky, as fierce winds fueled roaring flames that greedily devoured the continent. Everywhere Valroth looked, there were either broken ruins or immense craters. Scattered corpses and chunks of flesh still clung to the surroundings—remnants of a battle fought over a year ago, leaving the world irreparably scarred. Most of the flesh had been scavenged by starving animals—or by humans.
Valroth wrinkled his nose at the foul stench in the air as he walked through the ruins. Broken bricks lay strewn about, along with extinguished fire pits and buckets still holding a bit of water. Were they all dead? he wondered. "This war has delayed my plans by seven hundred years," he muttered. Just then, the sound of a blade tearing through flesh reached his ears—a sound he'd grown all too familiar with over centuries on the battlefield.
He turned toward the noise and found a girl in the shadows. Her dark hair was tangled over her shoulders, and sweat matted stray strands to her forehead, obscuring her face. She wore only a piece of cloth tied loosely around her body, stained with dirt and blood—hardly covering her at all. In this world that seemed abandoned, clothing had become irrelevant. But what caught Valroth's attention was the spear in her hands, far too large for her slender form. The blade was buried deep into her thigh, which was already caked in dried blood and mud. She didn't stop or even look up at him as she used the spear's edge to carve into her leg, letting fresh blood trickle down and mix with the dirt below. Carefully, she lifted a strip of raw flesh with the spear, pinched it with her fingers, and brought it to her mouth.
Valroth stepped closer, entering the darkness. Even as he crouched in front of her, the girl didn't acknowledge him. He reached out and lifted her chin with his left hand, brushing away the hair from her face to her left ear with another hand. A pair of hollow eyes met his, which were devoid of any human warmth. If she wasn't human, how was she here? All other races had long since retreated to their lands to recover from The War. He studied her sunken cheeks and the dark circles under her lifeless eyes.
"What's your name?" he asked. The girl blinked slowly, a trace of life flickering behind her blank stare.
"Name?" Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper, as if she hadn't spoken in ages. Her lips were stained with fresh blood and moved as she chewed mechanically. Her eyes shifted to the side, then back to meet his. "Aeris."
"Aeris," Valroth repeated. "Are there others here?" His hand still held her chin, feeling the faint movement of her jaw as she chewed. She looked to the side again, her brows furrowing as if trying to remember. After several minutes, she turned her head slightly to the left, then to the right. Valroth wasn't sure if she didn't know the answer or didn't understand the question. He frowned, thinking. But just then, Aeris surprised him by pulling her chin from his hand and nuzzling his fingers with her cheek. She lifted the spear again, aiming for her thigh.
Valroth quickly grabbed her arm. He raised his other hand, conjuring a flame in his palm that bathed Aeris' face in a warm light, casting shadows over her. His eyes narrowed as he examined the spear. Carved into the weapon were uneven markings in the ancient language of Virtutes, a language he recognized immediately. It showed: "The Mightiest Warrior, Silvano." Valroth recalled the front lines of the battlefield where the Virtutes warriors fought, each spear steeped in the blood of dozens. Had they not been so foolish, they wouldn't have lost all but fifty warriors. How did this girl end up with a Virtues spear?
He glanced back at her, intrigued. The flame flickered in her dark eyes, reflecting against her lifeless face. Even Valroth found himself holding his breath as he stared at her. He searched for any sign of life in those dead eyes, but they were as still as stagnant water.
Then, a flash of red gleamed in Aeris' eyes—too brief to tell if it was a trick of the firelight. Interesting. A thought sparked in his mind, though a dangerous intuition made him hesitate.
"Come with me," he said. Aeris gazed blankly at him and did not respond. Valroth sighed, doubting that a girl who barely understood words could help him with his plan. He rose to leave, but Aeris followed, she was dragging her injured leg and the spear behind her, its metal shaft scraping the ground. Valroth turned surprisingly. He took a few more steps to the outside, and Aeris trailed behind, her ragged cloth billowing in the wind, which exposed her frail form. A trail of blood marked her path, pooling in a small hollow under her wounded thigh. She had swallowed the strip of flesh, and now her lips stained a vivid, unnatural red.
Valroth raised an eyebrow, somewhat amused. His gaze softened as he looked down at the girl who barely reached his shoulder. With a faint smile, he issued his first command: "If you want to come with me, take off that rag and sit on that rock."
Aeris blinked, letting go of the spear, then removed the bloodstained cloth, the only covering she had. Supporting herself on her good leg, she bent down and retrieved the spear. She walked to the rock and sat down slowly. Valroth's smirk grew as he swept his right hand from his left chest down to his lower right side, a flame appeared.
He walked toward her slowly, and when he was standing right in front of her. He raised his fiery hand over her head suddenly and then smashed toward the top of her head. From the beginning, Aeris looked at him with unblinking eyes, meeting his gaze even as death loomed over her.
"Good girl." The flame vanished at the last second as he gently stroked her hair. Aeris tilted her head slightly as if she was trying to convey something. He tied his cloak around her shoulders, covering her thin body in its dark folds. Valroth kneeled before her, helped her straighten her injured leg, and examined the bloody wound with his red pupils.
"This will hurt a bit. But for someone who cuts off her own flesh, it shouldn't be too bad." Flames danced in his palm again. "Endure it." He pressed the fire to her wound, sizzling sounds filling the air as the flesh seared and a faint smell wafted up.
Watching her face, Valroth saw no hint of pain, as if the leg didn't belong to her. "You're a strange human." He shook his head, letting the fire recede, then noticed Aeris sniffing the air and even swallowing. He patted her head while he was smiling wryly, and helped her to her feet. He lifted the spear as well.
A pair of red, spiked wings unfurled from Valroth's back, wrapping around them as flames flickered along the edges. With one powerful beat of his wings, they soared, leaving trails of dust and embers.