The monstrous wings shimmered against the bruised sky, casting a shadow over the panicked village. The Impundulu, the mythical lightning bird, had alighted on the highest, most jagged spire of the rocky bluffs. But it did not stand with the arrogant power of a predator. Its magnificent feathers, usually a vibrant, electric blue, were dulled and ruffled, caked with mud and rain. Lightning, like a frantic spiderweb, crawled over its body, not as a weapon, but as a sign of its own terror. Its head was tucked low, its piercing, ancient eyes scanning the chaos below with a frantic fear that was palpable, a raw, burning terror that Leonotis felt deep in his own chest.
"There it is! There's the beast!" Joram roared, his voice a guttural bellow. He brandished his machete, its blade glinting in the torchlight. Gamba's scarred face was contorted with a vicious, triumphant grin. "Get the nets! We can still catch it! The bounty is ours!" The hunters' shouts were quickly joined by a cacophony of panicked screams and the clang of hastily-drawn pitchforks and farm tools. The mob, fueled by a collective, bone-deep fear, began to march uphill towards the bluff, a slow, unstoppable tide of hatred.
But Leonotis didn't hear the angry shouts. All he could feel was the bird's pulse within the storm, a frantic rhythm of pure, unadulterated fear. It was not a malevolent presence. It was wild, yes, but not evil. Its magic was a part of the world, like his own plant magic, a vital, living thing that had been corrupted by terror. He could feel its pain, its bewilderment, and its utter exhaustion. He saw a kindred spirit, a magnificent creature misunderstood and hunted down for no other reason than its power.
Jacqueline's eyes were fixed on the bird, her mind racing through the fragments of her ancestors' lore. Her people's ancient texts spoke of the Impundulu not as a curse, but as a guardian of balance, a creature that brought lightning to scorch the earth and make it fertile again, a being that held the power of both creation and destruction. The bird in front of them was a reflection of the storm itself, a creature of primal force and wildness. It wasn't a curse; it was a testament to the raw, untamable power of the world.
Low, for her part, felt a deep, aching sympathy in her heart. She understood what it was to be misunderstood, to be feared for something you couldn't control. For years, she had been an outcast, an orphan. She saw the same fear and hatred in the villagers' eyes that she had once seen in the eyes of her own community. The bird wasn't a monster; it was a mirror reflecting their own darkest fears.
Even Zombiel, with his newly-found soul, could feel the sheer, raw emotion burning off the bird. It was like a raw wire, humming with a desperate energy. The salamander spirit in his chest, so calm and quiet before, was now a roaring fire, a burning beacon of empathy. He didn't know the words to explain it, but he knew with an unshakable certainty that the Impundulu was not a harbinger of plague. It was a victim of circumstance, a majestic creature caught in a storm of human hatred.
They all knew it. The hunters' cause was a lie. The bird wasn't the source of the village's plague; it was just a scapegoat for their fear.
But that hatred was a thing with its own momentum, and it was already marching uphill. The villagers, their eyes wild with terror, followed the bounty hunters without question, their makeshift weapons held high. Joram and Gamba were at the head of the mob, their grins widening as they closed in on their target.
The van's engine purred with a low growl, a counterpoint to the growing roar of the crowd. Leonotis's hands were shaking. He could not stand by and watch this. He could not let this injustice happen. He had a choice to make, a choice that would define him. He knew what he had to do. His plant magic hummed, eager to be used, to stand against the storm.
At the head of the angry mob, Gamba raised his silver-tipped spear, his voice ringing out over the tumult of the storm and the fear-crazed mob. "Iron nets! We'll pin it down! Then we'll burn the witch's bird alive!"