The Intruders' Tale (1)
A week had passed since Blue Sky came and went.
That unexpected visitor had changed a great deal. First and foremost, my nest had been completely destroyed.
It was an ordinary cave, the sort you might find anywhere in the mountains — and yet, to me, it had been something precious. I had lived there for more than a hundred years. I had grown rather fond of the place. And then Blue Sky's lightning brought it down.
If only the entrance had been wrecked, I might have managed. Instead the whole cave collapsed, and I spent the rest of that day with nowhere to roost, circling through the sky. It was bitterly cold. An ice storm was howling.
Whether it was the cold, or because I had spent a little too much power, my body, reflected in the ice, had grown even smaller than before.
For a moment I considered raising an objection with Blue Sky. I let it go. From her point of view I was an uninvited guest, and I ought to be grateful she had treated me as reasonably as she had.
"A monster!"
"Isn't that a phoenix?!"
A few days later I came upon humans split into two groups. The instant they saw me they started calling me a monster, a phoenix.
The monster part I understood. Where in the world would anyone find a bird this large? Being called a phoenix, though, left a sour taste I could not quite name. That creature burns itself up and is reborn. That is all it does. I am different — an entirely different concept, an entirely different being. I am the Vermilion Bird. In the world beyond, they called me one of the Four Sacred Beasts.
I wish they would all just disappear.
My nest of a hundred years had been destroyed, so I was already in a foul mood. Then they had to go and mistake me for a phoenix, which irked me just a little more. Before I knew it, I had reacted more strongly than I meant to.
"Ah—aaaaah!"
"Spare us, O great one...!"
After that they no longer called me a monster or a phoenix. They were too busy dropping to their knees and begging for mercy. Watching them from the sky, I suddenly felt sorry for them. If I was being honest, this was nothing more than taking out my frustration. The one who had destroyed my nest was Blue Sky. These people were just people.
Before I caused an even greater misunderstanding, I quickly took to the air. Of all directions, though, an ice storm came howling in from that one. I raised my feathers and beat my wings with everything I had, and barely managed to break free.
Afterward I landed briefly to check my condition.
"...I've gotten smaller again."
My body was shrinking at a visible rate. At this pace I might dwindle all the way down to a hummingbird. In the beginning I had possessed an enormous frame — about the size of those giant dinosaur models I had once seen. Then, as time passed, I gradually grew smaller. Not long ago I had been just a little larger than an ostrich. After using my power a few times I shrank, and shrank again, until I reached this.
From now on I would have to be more careful about spreading my feathers. It was not merely a matter of shrinking. I could vanish altogether. Now that I had grown accustomed to a bird's body, I found I wanted to live. It saddened me that I was no longer human, but this was not so bad in its own way. Not needing to eat. Being able to fly through the sky. Being able to rekindle a life that had gone out, by my own will. Of course, that last one carried a corresponding burden, so I would have to restrain myself going forward.
The next day I found a new nest. It was wider than the previous cave, which I rather liked, and there was no village of any note nearby.
I've been flying around for a while, and I used my feathers too. I should get some proper sleep.
I curled up, using my wings as a blanket. Warmth gathered around me, and drowsiness came drifting in. And so I closed my eyes. And so I fell asleep.
"Mm."
At last the drowsiness receded. I had no idea how long I had slept. It could have been days. It could have been weeks. What I could say for certain was that I was in slightly better condition than before.
This body had no particular need to eat anything. A reasonable amount of water, though, was worth drinking, and there was plenty of clean water around here. Meaning to wet my throat — and, while I was at it, to stretch my wings a little — I left the nest and soared up into the sky.
What met my eyes was neither a lake nor meltwater from the ice.
Who are those people?
I had flown in the opposite direction to avoid the ones who had called me a monster and a phoenix. This stretch of mountains was so rugged that even the northerners never came through. I had surveyed the whole region before settling in, so I was certain of that. And yet people in unfamiliar clothing were making their way in.
The people here mainly used animal hides. These ones, by contrast, wore thick garments quilted with cotton — things hard to come by in the north. I had never seen them before.
The next suspicious thing was the number of them in the procession. Even if they were hunters, a dozen or so would have been the normal limit. Those people down there, though — even a rough count put them at well over several hundred.
"Was there a village nearby...?"
Just in case, I made a sweep of the surrounding area. The result: I had not been wrong. There was no village in the vicinity. Never mind a village — there were not even any hunters to be seen. Then who on earth were they? Bandits, perhaps? Even for bandits, there were far too many of them.
Wait.
It was only a glimpse, but I saw it. No matter how far, nothing escaped my eyes. The various loads they were carrying on their carts, covered in white cloth — between them, bits of metal jutted out, flashing as they caught the light.
Bandits carried weapons too. But those were in poor condition. Everything was precious in this place. Even a blade with all its teeth gone, they used until it snapped. The weapons those people were hiding as they traveled did not have that kind of surviving edge.
I landed on a mountainside for a moment to sort through my thoughts. Come to think of it, Anne had told me something once. The Empire's north. Here in Nosland, it was not only Imperial citizens who lived. There were also people from other kingdoms that shared a border, distant though it was. The land was so barren and so vast that the border itself was faint. The mountain passes leading into Nosland felt more like the true frontier. And so, a few times, foreign armies had come through.
"..."
Wars between nations were none of my concern. I was not an Imperial citizen, and the Empire had done nothing for me. There was no problem in simply not paying it any mind.
But the direction they were heading — that was where Anne's village lay. If they truly were a foreign army, that changed things. The north was harsh, a barren place where everything was precious. What would happen if they discovered a village in a place like that?
I was not human now, but I had been human once. And so I knew the cruelty of humans better than anyone. Nine times out of ten, Anne's village would be razed to the ground.
It's a place that hasn't even been a few months since they recovered from a bandit attack.
Once my mind was settled, I slowly spread my wings. Perhaps because I had slept well in a warm place, my body had grown a little larger. Not grown, exactly — more like it had returned to what it used to be.
First I decided to get a clearer look at that procession of several hundred. The idea that they were a foreign army was still only my speculation.
Fortunately, there's no ice storm today.
My wings felt light. There was no sensation of the feather-tips freezing. The exhilaration of flying through the sky, something I had not felt in a while, filled me completely. I flew straight toward the humans making their way through the mountains.
"Once we get through here, there are no more mountains. After that, though the land is barren, it's mostly plains. If we keep going down, we can launch a perfect surprise attack on the Empire."
A general with an eyepatch over one eye encouraged those following behind him. The soldiers, who had been growing weary, found new strength in his words and pressed on.
Their true identity was the army of the Lind Kingdom, which shared a border with the Empire. The Lind Kingdom had long been watching for a chance to attack the Empire, but the border watch was tight, and they had never found the moment for a surprise assault. Then this one-eyed general, Cannibal, had come up with a scheme.
The Empire's north. Nosland. Pass through there and strike from above. As it happened, their Lind Kingdom bordered Nosland, and for various reasons the Empire had been neglecting its defenses there. If they seized that opening, passed through quickly, and launched a surprise attack, it would work.
There had been opposition. The northern cold and barrenness were the reasons given. To pull off a surprise attack, they would need to bring at least several hundred elite troops. If those men met with some accident in the north, the loss would be enormous. And if, by some chance, the Empire had an ambush waiting, they could be wiped out entirely. But Cannibal had held to his argument to the end.
"There will never be a better opportunity than this. The Empire has, for all intents and purposes, let the north slip from its grasp. Their garrison isn't even stationed in Nosland — it's posted at the checkpoint leading north. We cannot let this pass."
In the end, the Lind Kingdom decided to accept Cannibal's plan. They gave him well over several hundred elite soldiers and fine weapons besides. They had one task: to rattle the Empire to its core with a surprise attack.
Two months after departing the kingdom, Cannibal had nearly finished the mountain march. It had not been without losses. More than several dozen had died. They had to count themselves lucky they had not encountered Imperial forces.
And then, this very day, they at last left the wretched mountain terrain behind. It was as if the goddess of fortune herself had been impressed by their efforts. Breaking through the north with only this much damage had been a miracle.
Until now, that is.
"Hm?"
A man who leads an army needs a great many things. If one had to name one of them, it would be an exceptional instinct. That instinct turned Cannibal's eye not forward, but upward.
"What... is that..."
At first he thought he had seen wrong. He denied it instinctively. A creature that should not exist. An opponent they absolutely could not fight.
"General?"
The soldier advancing right beside him tilted his head. Then he lifted his gaze, and soon began to scream.
"A R-Red Wyvern!"
"What?"
"I-It's real! Damn it! A flying monster!"
"It's a Red Wyvern!"
"Aaaaaaagh!!"
Wyverns. Flying monsters that ruled the skies. Ordinarily they remained in the heavens, a place humans dared not even reach. Then, once they chose their prey, they would dive down like a bolt and snatch it away.
If these men had been an ordinary regular army, they might have been able to resist. But they were not. They had prepared only for a surprise attack. They had no way to respond to a monster attacking from the sky.
"G-General! What do we do?! We can't fight a wyvern!"
"Damn it all...!"
They had made it through the treacherous mountains. What remained was the easy road. Just a little more hardship and they could execute the surprise attack. That regret welled up, but Cannibal made his decision.
"Red Wyverns are born with a love of flame. Set the carts on fire at once and get out of here."
A wyvern's attack did not end with a single strike. According to what was known, they would kill people for sport as well. Even a flap of those wings would send a man flying, to smash into something and die. The wisest course was to leave this place as quickly as possible. He could not lose his elite troops here for nothing. The road they had come was a shame to abandon, but turning back was a hundred times better.
"General! It's starting to dive!"
"It's hunting for prey! Light the fires and retreat, now!"
The Lind Kingdom army had no other choice. Following the general's orders, they set fires and scattered in all directions.
So they really were an army.
The coordinated movements. The weapons coming out of the wagons. As I descended a little closer to the ground, they took one look at me and fled for their lives. That was fortunate, if anything. I did not have to take any lives.
But they must never come here again. After considering what to do, I decided to leave the best warning I could. I swept my wings in a great arc and set fire to the wagons they had left behind. They would take it as a message not to come any closer. If they tried to return, I would simply come down even closer next time.
I should avoid clashing with the gods over human lives.
Satisfied that I had done enough, I returned to my nest.