They feared her.
They feared the beast as dark as the night with markings red as the blood her claws surely shed. They feared her voice in the night, a shriek as ear piercing as it was heart rending. The villagers laid down trap after trap but were too scared to see if any single one succeeded. Only one, a man barely out of his childhood years with too much to prove, had ever gotten close to her.
He subdued her and clipped her wings, so she could never fly overhead and reign chaos from above.
That man is now leader of the village.
They feared her. They hated her.
Except for one.
A girl child, born as odd as the day is long. Her eyes were that of the devils, red as sin and matching the bloody hair that rested in mats and tangles on her head. Abandoned by her mother, her father, her people, she found solace in the wilds of the mountains among the only creatures to look past her appearance. Her name taken from her, the villagers despaired and named her 'Flay', for her talent in leather working.
Flay was fascinated by the beast creature and would leave raw meat up high in the trees, watching and waiting for her to come. She never did; only after the girl was asleep. But the beast grew fond of the girl and bit by bit, crept closer each day. It took several years and Flay was a woman of wild beauty by the time she held in her lap the head of a winged Lighira.
But life was never to be kind to Flay.
There was a boy in the village, the son of the leader, whose task it was for his adulthood ceremony to murder the beast of the Alopos Mountains. He, Callis, befriended the girl and she fell in love.
But life wasn't kind to Flay.
Neither was love.
She brought him into the wilderness day after day, but her Lighira stayed away in fear of the man child. But, as with Flay, she grew less and less wary.
It would be her downfall.
One day, Callis hid in his sleeve a long throwing knife and in his other, a ceremonial dagger. He had started bringing his bow and arrows months ago, to get girl and beast used to seeing them.
When the Lighira appeared and went to Flay, he backed away and notched an arrow.
Flay stood frozen, staring at the man she loved with betrayal. The Lighira snorted, tattered feathers fluttering in a sudden breeze.
Callis shot.
He missed.
Flay fell to the ground, gasping and gurgling around the arrow in her throat, reaching not for her love but for the beast that stood her ground. The Lighira roared and raged, but never left her side, nuzzling and licking at Flay's paling skin. Callis stood stock still, for he truly had fallen for the devil's daughter. He dropped to his knees and broke, whispering her name and crying freely.
The Lighira whined. A heartbeat slowed, then stopped.
As her last breath left her, a mist rose from her mouth. The Lighira huffed and breathed it in, blinking with new eyes. Human eyes, full of wisdom and pain. Callis whispered, "Flay..."
The Lighira blinked slowly in response.
That is the legend of the crimson protector of the mountains of Alopos, the story of two misfits who fit together.
And as for Callis, he never returned to the village. He remains by her side, coat as light as hers is dark. He gave up his humanity to be with the woman he loved and murdered. The Lighiras, as opposite as day is to night, circling the mountain and providing a family for children born with the devil's eyes.
Life was never kind to Flay.
Love brought only pain.
But hearts heal if they are loved enough. |
