The Harpy's Pride by taiyakisoba
Levinja pressed the bear's fur more tightly around her, despite the smell, as the next onslaught of ice and sleet smashed against her. She shivered, blinking snow-blind against the chaos of white and grey. There, the path. The path! It continued, almost totally obscured around the edge of the mountain.
The green mountain meadows she had gazed upon with Jameth were just a dream, now. The storm had come, unexpected as all storms on the mountain did, turning the world from that endless cool blue vault to a swirling grey nightmare of shrieking winds and freezing temperatures.
Luckily, the bear had attacked her. It had been an old bear, rendered aggressive from starvation, brought on by an old injury she had later discovered in its side. But she'd had no chance to negotiate with it. She had struck it through the middle with her sword as the huge black body had flung itself at her from above, its great paws gouging the air. Bears, for all their beauty, were dangerous creatures which would disembowel you and eat you alive and screaming, but still she had felt a sting of regret at the great furry body laid out on the rapidly reddening snow before her.
She had thanked the gods and taken out her knife and skinned it with the rapid cuts of an experienced hunter. All the Knights of the Order of the Evening Star were trained to survive in the wild.
Yes, to survive... but sometimes surviving smelled very, very bad.
The world darkened now. Ah, so the sun, which she had not seen for so long, was slipping beneath the earth. Levinja doggedly pushed her aching and exhausted body to keep going. She had abandoned her armour further down the mountain - it was simply too heavy to wear, especially in this storm. What was the point in wearing it, if it did not defend you from the ice and snow? Her corpse would not benefit from its protection. But it was still with a sting of fear and regret that she had tossed her cuirass and greaves aside.
Levinja stumbled. She shielded her eyes, stared forward through the black of the bear's fur. The path was invisible now. The mountain side, coated in snow and ice, had become one with the white of the icy storm. Only here and there did small knots of grey appear, the outcrops of rocks and crags which the snow could not find purchase on.
She had to find shelter, no matter how small. Even just a tiny overhang, somewhere she could shield her face from the constant onslaught of this shrieking, icy gale.
There, ahead! A dark irregular shape, jutting out like a thick spine. An overhang? Hope burst out in Levinja's heart and she pushed one leg after the other, the snow crunching beneath her.
That hope saved her. She reached the overhang just as her strength gave out. She stumbled and collapsed forward into the warm and comparatively still air of the overhang and lay there, here heart and lungs pumping. She pulled the bear's fur over her and squirmed forward like a hairy caterpillar until her entire body was clear of the wind and ice. And then she let her eyelids fall and she slept.
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Levinja awoke with a start. She must have been asleep only for a few minutes, but it had been enough to revitalise her. Her knight's instincts had dragged her back out of that deliciously warm embrace of sleep, knowing she must first be sure she was somewhere safe.
With a grunt she rose up. Ah, but this place was paradise! The overhang was more than just that, she knew now. This was the entrance to a cave, hidden by the side of the mountain - a hollow, curved like a shell. Outside, the storm continued to shriek to the heavens, but here the air, despite the icy ghost of an odd flurry which wandered in from outside, was still and warm.
Warmer than she could ever have expected. Like the lair of the imps, there must be some volcanic activity in the heart of the mountain, heating the air. Levinja sniffed. No, no sign of any of the poisonous gasses that such volcanoes could sometimes produce. Truly, the gods were smiling on her.
But then she detected some other scent. The bear's stinky hide obscured it, but she was trained to see with her nose as much as with her eyes and her ears. Yes, there was a definite scent. This cave was the home to someone - or something.
There was light, too. Levinja, her hand drifting to the hilt of her sword, took a few steps forward. It was not the warm buttery light of a fire, but a blue light, more a glow, as that from glow-worms or phosphorescent lichen.
And now she heard movement, the shifting of something. The sound was odd but strangely familiar, and Levinja struggled through her exhaustion to remember where she had heard it before. A dry sound, like leaves rubbing against each other. No, not leaves - something softer. Scales?
Steeling herself for a desperate battle, she pushed away the mist of her brain and crept forward. If she had to fight the denizen of this cave, be it dragon or serpent, to survive, she would do so. She could not give up, not now she was so close to the goal of her quest.
Her desperate heart rose in her chest and, emboldened, she turned the corner of the mouth of the cave into the source of the blue glow.
Light bled from the huge crystals hanging from the roof of the cave. For a heartbeat Levinja was left blinking, trying to make out what she was seeing. After days of snow and grey rock and clouds she was half-blind and the colours before her confused her, expecting as she had the bone-littered lair of some great predator.
Instead, there was furniture - a mirror, a dresser, a wardrobe as well, human-sized and of expertly carved and lacquered wood. Brightly-dyed tapestries hung from the walls and the cave's floor was strewn with rugs. No, this was not merely a cave. This was someone's home!
But this was not the home of a human, for all the human furniture. At the far end of the cave was a great, bowl-shaped nest - at least, that's what it looked like to Levinja. It seemed to be fashioned from thin branches, but was filled with pillows and blankets, as luxurious as one would expect in a rich human's mansion. Whoever lived in this place had expensive tastes.
But no sign of the inhabitant. Perhaps the sound she'd heard had been the product of her feverish mind.
She moved forward, her hand slipping from the hilt of her sword. Something intelligent and non-human lived here, and she did not wish to bring about a battle by appearing in their home armed and belligerent.
Her eyes scanned the room. The tapestries had martial scenes on them, knights and pennants and battles. They were something Levinja herself might have had hanging from the walls of her own home. She passed the mirror and glanced at it. A tired old woman looked back at her and her heart skipped. But no, it was just her reflection. Gods, she looked haggard!
But then she saw a gleam of colourful movement in the corner of the mirror and she swung around. Something human-sized but clearly not human, with wide shimmering wings, glided to the floor from where it had been hiding high up in the roof of the cave. Stupid! She'd forgotten the first rule of entering a potentially hostile place - always look up!
"Who are you?" demanded a haughty voice.
Levinja raised her hands. She couldn't see the face of who had spoken - all she could see was those wide, powerful wings, the colours of the feathers shimmering as the monster advanced. "I mean you no harm!" she cried. "Please. The storm-"
"What? A human?" The great wings beat the air, glittering, before they furled away, revealing their owner: a slender male with long dark hair, resembling a human except for those wings and the clawed feet that now tapped on the stone floor as he took a step forward. Levinja gasped. A harpy! She had never before encountered one of these shy and rare monsters. This one was ruggedly handsome, with huge dark eyes and sharp cheek-bones and a full, sensual mouth - but his lips were twisted in a sneer, his nostrils flaring as his eyes considered her with naked revulsion.
"The storm," Levinja repeated. "I was caught in it. Please, if I could just rest here for a -"
"Why are you here?" the harpy demanded, folding his wings across his chest as an angry man might cross his arms. "Humans never come to these mountains. This is harpy territory."
"I'm on a quest," said Levinja quickly. She shifted her bear-skin and ran a hand through her matted hair. Gods, she was so ugly right now! And standing before this gorgeous monster-boy she felt terribly self-conscious.
"A quest," repeated the boy, snorting. "Dressed like that?"
"I was forced to abandon my armour," said Levinja, suddenly fragile. The boy had homed-in on the one thing that would hurt her and she smarted under those dark, accusatory eyes, but she held his gaze and straightened her back. "I am a knight of the Order of the Evening Star."
"Hah!" the boy chuckled. "A likely story." He swept out a red-green wing, the tip pointing towards a tapestry beside them. Knights rode in single file on a green field, the yellow sun bright on their blue pennants. "That tapestry is of a mustering of the Knights of Evening Star. You do not look like one of them, I'm afraid." His eyes narrowed and he took another clicking step forward. "No, you look more to me like an exile. What was your crime?"
Levinja smiled grimly. He was so cocksure and sharp-tongued! In another situation she would have had the boy over her knees, no matter he was on the cusp of manhood, and laid the flat of her hand against his round, recalcitrant buttocks! That would teach him some manners. But she was in no position to do that here, now. She would have to tread carefully.
"I have committed no crime," said Levinja quietly. "I am travelling to the Tower of Maona. I seek the Saint's Mirror."
The harpy-boy blinked. "The Tower is not so very far from here," he said. "Several hours flight when the updrafts are in your favour." He pursed his lips. "But how do you know of it?"
"Like I said," repeated Levinja. "I am a knight. The Tower is the goal of my quest. But I have travelled far and as you can see, this is all I have left of my possessions." She let the bear-skin fall away, revealing her tattered jerkin. The top laces had worn open and her collar, neck and the upper curve of one breast were visible. Coming from the cold into warmth, her skin was flush and pink and when the harpy-boy's eyes fell upon her flesh, Levinja held back a mischievous smile. Ah, so her gambit had been correct. Despite his haughtiness, this boy was just like any other. Now he realised she was a female and not just a vagrant, she might just be able to convince him to allow her to stay. She had no desire to fight this beautiful creature, and her body was still suffering from too little food and too long a journey through the blistering cold.
The harpy lifted his eyes from her bared flesh. Annoyance flashed in his eyes. "You may be on a quest, but you are no knight," he sniffed.
"Is that so?" said Levinja quietly. She took a few short steps toward the tapestry the boy had indicated earlier and he watched her. "I like this tapestry. You know which even it illustrates, yes?"
The boy frowned, but he nodded. "Yes, I know. But you -"
"The Muster before the Battle of Tarphessa," said Levinja. "I remember it well."
The boy's mouth fell open. "You were there?" But just as quickly his sneer returned. "You were not there."
"Oh, but I was," said Levinja. She drew a finger along the tapestry. "See? Here is Radolpho, the leader of the muster. Even without the labels, there would be no mistaking that unruly red hair. And this is the famed knight-errant Everean. And here- come, look." She gestured for the boy to come closer. His wide forehead furrowing in a frown, he took a few hops forward. "You can read Common, yes?"
The boy's eyes flashed. "Of course I can read Common," he sniffed.
