ציפורי לילה

She was sitting on top of the icy boulder, wrapped in a warm icegoat wool coat. Her eyes were looking West, her mind lost in thought.

The sky were semi clouded, gray shapes marching slowly, looming above the barren, frozen land. It was spring time, the sun finally woken from her deep months-long winter slumber; it shone for a short while in the mornings, reached a low point at noon, and hurried back to her hiding place. Now, close to midnight, the sun was deep under the big waves.

Still, Laeya’s peripheral vision caught the orange glow hanging over the fields of ice. Her gaze focused and she stared at the now familiar, though much hated, sight of the Afterglow.

Bloody wizards.

She remembered playing in those fields, chasing snow bunnies, searching for acorns under the frozen surface, skating on ice ponds with special bone contraptions her father made for her. Twenty years ago it used to be a child haven, a place of joy. It was now lifeless, devoid of any tree, of any animal. It ran like that for miles in each direction, and after dark, the damn flickering light of magic gone wrong, lingering on her patch of fond memories like a smoke from unholy incense.

She cursed, got up and stretched. As she moved, her eye caught a tiny shadow passing in front of a bright cloud to the north east. While she couldn’t see it, she knew the city lay there beyond the snow caped hills. It was perhaps ten miles from here, a bustling place towards which Laeya had mixed feelings.

On one hand Frosthaven was a pit of vileness, greed, and corruption. Especially now that the Baron was dead. The Council Lords - if there ever was a more cushy, sinecure government post Laeya never heard of it - were absolutely useless, no more than a group of bandits wearing nice shows. The only ray of hope was Oriel, the young Paladin who was adamant in her constant opposition to their influence.

Then on the other hand, Frosthaven was now home of Laeolas.

When her twin brother told her he’s moving to the city, she was absolutely devastated. “You can’t do this! You can’t! You won’t! What would father think?” she demanded.

“I don’t really care, Laeya. I’m old enough to make my own mind. The life of nomads, tribesmen, is really not for me. I don’t want to live in tents for the rest of my life, taking refuge in caves during blizzards, escaping from mountain avalanches and driving off frost bugs. Being a druid in the service of the city - is that so bad? Father always said I should do what my heart tells me. And my heart tells me Frosthaven is the future, and this place here - he waved, almost in disgust, at the frozen glades - this is the past”.

She glared at him, fuming.

“A druid in the service of the city? Now that’s a brilliant idea. What sort of tasks are you supposed to take care of, I wonder? Cleaning leaves falling off chestnut trees in the streets?”

Laeolas shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t really care. All I know is that the city called for druids, and that the pay is good. I can afford my own lodging, and buy stuff. You won’t understand this, Laeya. You don’t even know what ‘pay’ means. It’s when you get gold coins in return for your work. It’s a chance to make a name for yourself. A chance to do something that matters”.

The words still vibrated in her ears after all this time. And the worst thing was that part of her felt he was right. What’s the use of trying to preserve nature when people care less and less about their legacy habitat and more and more about making fortunes? What’s the use of protecting the wildlife when this sort of crap - her eyes were back to the glimmering orange light - happens?

And it wasn’t just that. Laeya loved her brother - they were twins after all, albeit very different in the way they grasped life - and his cheerful, light hearted accounts of city life eased some of the pain of separation. He told how wonderful things are, how opportunities knock on every door, how it’s not as bad as she thinks, that it’s just two days’ ride from the village but it’s a universe apart.

Trouble is, she started believing in it.

Her thoughts cleared, and she looked back at the spot travelling the air. She picked up EagleEye, which her mother handed to her before she died. Old and frail, but with the same beautiful eyes her daughter inherited, Laeya’s mother entrusted her with the family heirloom. “Your father never approved of magic; to him it was always abnormal, unnatural. But this is stronger than mare magic. The essence of an eagle, its spirit, its strength, is folded into this small piece of glass. Do not hesitate to use it, my loved one. You were my greatest gift in life; think of this as my last gift to you”.

The lens fit perfectly, and Laeya felt the usual sense of initial disorientation followed by absolute concentration. Well practiced, it didn’t take her long to locate the bird flying in the night. It was a red hawk.

She froze, the hair at the back of her neck prickling as if someone rubbed wool against them.

Hawks never fly after dusk.

She had another look, this time for several heartbeats. There was something oddly familiar about the shape of the eyes of this particular hawk, the way its beak curved a bit to the left. And it was also clear that the hawk was heavily wounded; his flight was unstable, listing to port more than sailing straight in the air.
It began to drop.

Laeya didn’t even think; it was as instinctive to her as scratching one’s head. In a heartbeat she was a long, silver-backed wolf. She rushed down the hillock, picking up speed on the frosty ground, jumping across small icy puddles. The cold air swept her fur, but she didn’t feel a thing.

Within a minute she reached him.

“Laeolas”, she breathed hard as she shapeshifted again to her former half-elf self.

“Frosthaven”, croaked her twin brother, no longer shaped as a bird. “It’s under attack”.