Path of Their Own Ch. 01

The green-haired Elf—Celia, Necela recalled—came running from her hiding spot as fast as her nimble feet would carry her. She closed the distance between her and Galen and grabbed a hold of him. With all her strength she heaved on him to make him stand up and take cover. Necela narrowed her eyes and enforced his disorientation to keep him from doing so.

My reward for you, Galen.

A white glow swelled in Necela's chest as she stood up on her rear legs and conjured her magic. She could hear the cries of warning coming from another Human inside the plane, but it was too late. Galen was too dazed to hear them or run, but he could hug onto Celia and the Drow beside him to brace for what came next.

Nothing to fear, it won't hurt at all.

Necela opened her maw and unleashed a stream of blue and white energy onto the three mortals. Sharp, snapping sounds erupted to the Goddess's right with dozens of lead pellets striking her neck in five quick successions. A second later came seven quieter snaps with the corresponding flying pieces of metal striking her head around her eye. When she was finished bestowing her gift upon Galen and his two companions, the deity closed her mouth and turned toward the Human that attempted to disrupt her.

Just in time for a small metal object to be thrown at her and bounce off her nose.

Necela blinked at the Human in the green pants and green shirt with black striping. He was a bit taller than Galen, more lean and worn from battle. His rugged face was unshaven with his head of black hair grown out and disheveled. A Neko woman beside him called his name, "Flak," and warned him to run. Yet he stood in place, not giving a step to the Goddess as she dropped down on all fours and leaned in close enough to gaze into his mind.

She picked through his thoughts and memories as quick as she could, taking in what she could, repairing damage as she found it. She realized that this man had helped Galen in his task after a sick twist of fate robbed him of his trip home. But then she dug deeper, venturing into darker thoughts and memories both active and unconscious in his war-fatigued mind. His past, his plans, his hates, his loves, everything that was him came forth.

A red glare illuminated her blue eyes. Before she could be further enraged by what she witnessed within, she broke eye-contact with the soldier and gave her head a shake. Claws sinking into the dirt, Necela let out a low growl and looked to the other, more innocent Earth soldier who lay groaning beside her feet. The boy was lightly shivering on the ground as he held onto his Elves' hands. He was too new to his world's politics and military to know what to expect or see what was to be seen.

But now I do.

She was almost inclined to spare him what he might witness should he return to that jungled land, simply by denying him the trip. Her only solace was his intention to return to Raska after seeing his Mother, and she hoped that would be permanent.

From out of her periphery, Necela spotted Petra run from the plane in a flash of black fur, toward the three at her feet. The receivers of the Goddess' magic were still quite groggy when the Neko got to them and made the attempt to shake them from their stupor. Feigning surprise at the feline's rapid movements, Necela backed up some steps and let her healing aura flourish around her. The effect on Galen was instantaneous—alongside the slap his assassin delivered to the upside of his head—as he was suddenly scrambling to grab Celia and run.

Movement on her right made Necela's attention shift away from her chosen warrior and back to "Flak." He had stumbled deeper into the plane, holding his head and unleashing his colorful language with a furious intensity while fumbling with one of the boxes. Scoffing, the deity reached forth and grabbed hold of him, pulling him from the metal monster and dropping him on the ground before she circled around the side of the "Hercules."

With a single swipe of her claws she tore open a gaping hole on the side of the craft, one she could then grab hold of and rip open into a much larger opening. With unhindered access to the inside of the plane, she began pulling the contents out from inside and placing them on the ground. Each item she pulled out was treated with care as to not damage anything that the Humans could use in their immediate future, but when the last of the goods were safely removed the Goddess found the bodies of the six men who were aboard the plane when it crashed.

Whoever watches over Earth, stop sending your sons into my world to die, she thought, carefully scooping up the fallen soldiers and laying them upon the golden grass outside.

With a swipe of her claws, she tore five slits open in the dirt, deep enough to put someone to rest, and then promptly added a sixth. Leaving the funerals for Galen to perform, Necela turned to the plane itself as her tongue flicked out from her mouth as she focused on her final interest.

Its metal still tasted of the magic that had brought it to this world, its effect euphoric on the Goddess. There was no question in her mind that she wanted every stone's worth of this foreign metal in her home, even if that residual flavor faded in short time.

She grabbed hold of the "Hercules'" body and sunk her claws deep into its skin. Heat swelled in her palms and the entire length of the plane quickly took on a red glow. Fluids in the wings and along its belly caught fire but she twisted the flames with magic to circulate them throughout the craft. In moments the beast began to sink into a puddle of its own molten metal.

With a spell able to carry without her physical input, the Goddess moved to the broken tail-piece and started the process again. Before the eyes of the awed mortals watching, all that was left of the C-130 Hercules had become superheated puddles of liquid steel and "aluminum."

With another twist of her magic, Necela had the metal lifting up into the air and drawing in on her form. Like a glowing, yellow cable, it wrapped about her midsection and sizzled as it came into contact with her scales. The intense heat provoked a low growl from the Goddess' throat as she spread her wings and leapt into the sky once again. Even with the added weight of the still-molten metal, she managed a quick and smooth take off in the direction of the nearest body of water.

There was a pond not far into the forest and the deity was already casting the spell necessary to take her home. Right now, her mirror on the moon would be shimmering as it prepared to receive her, and the pond's surface would be turning dark with the portal formed within it. These two ends of the wormhole coming into place, her Draconic form rippled along its scales as it prepared to revert to her natural shape. When that shimmering source of life was just below her, her wings drew in close alongside her body and sent her into a dive.

She didn't even hear the splash before the Goddess found herself floating across her throne room in the moon's low gravity. She extended her blue, Humanoid arms to her sides to steady herself as the rest of her body settled into a very feminine shape, with her translucent, butterfly-like wings spreading out from her back to cease her forward momentum. Her bare toes touched to the stone floor of her castle and she turned to face her mirror as a pair of antennae finished sprouting from her hairline.

The metal she had been wearing around her body came pouring out from her enchanted looking-glass. It still glowed white-hot as magic kept it superheated on its way to her home. Before it could cool again, Necela waved her hands and the melted mix of metals spread over the floor of the hall and flattened into one, even layer before she cut off that magic and used another to cool it until the hot glow dissipated and a dull sheen took its place.

Necela then stomped her foot on the new metal floor and a paper-thin top layer peeled off like dead skin to leave a mirror-like finish in its place. The Goddess collected the floating flakes of metal with a spell and drew them into her hands. Her palms then glowed a bright orange as she crushed the contents down and rolled them into a small cylinder. Using her nails, she was able to carve the cooling aluminium as though it were soft clay.

What she was left with was a shining figurine barely the size of her own thumb. One of an Earth-soldier standing casually with his rifle slung over his shoulder as he gazed into the distance.

Grinning at the little memento, Necela walked back to her throne and set the figurine down among eight others on a side-table. As she then took her seat and closed her eyes, she made that yellow gem from the portal reappear in her grasp, its magic sending goosebumps up her arms as she reconnected with her puppets. She had a lot to think on with this gem and she cursed herself for not starting before now, considering the number of men trapped on her world after being pulled from Galen's.

This raised a question: how many had come to her world so far? She had seen many come from Earth, seen them with their weapons and bloodlust, or curiosity and wonder. Soldiers, sailors, scientists, men of art or engineering. But how many now roamed her world? How many died? How many children did they raise? Beyond the few she already knew of, how many have made an impact on her world?

She wanted to find out, but other concerns took priority over her own curiosities.

Specifically, a way to send them home.

..................

A steady buzz akin to a swarm hornets zipping about his brainpan plagued both Flak's senses and his thoughts. The world seemed to spin around him with any large movements, leaving him too dizzy to stand under his own power. For the moment he stayed seated on a crate with both his hands steadily rubbing his temples. Everything in his mind felt scrambled and detached as if his thoughts had been yanked out from his head through his eyeballs and thrown into a propeller.

Then there was Galen. The fact that he was still alive was unbelievable after that flying lizard had seemingly vaporized him, Celia, and Felyn, all in one breath. But yet there he was, alive, in one piece, and hugging onto Celia as she cried into his tunic. Her whole body was shaking violently after that beast flew off and Flak couldn't blame her; even Galen was still visibly rattled as he and Petra whispered soft, unintelligible words to the Elf to calm her.

Giving his head a shake, the Staff-Sergeant pulled out his pipe and pouch of tobacco to alleviate his sudden craving. When the pipe was packed, he looked to Galen to ask for his lighter, though he immediately changed his mind. The Private was still busy murmuring, but at least it seemed to be having a positive effect on his girl.

So instead he looked to Felyn. With the amount of unnatural things he had witnessed in the past twenty-four hours from the people of this world, he suspected she might have some sort of trick that could produce a flame.

He saw the Drow examining the charred grass where the C-130 had been and called her name. She stood and turned to him, lifting her head just enough to make eye contact. For a split second his chest felt like an icicle had been rammed down his throat, bitter cold freezing his lungs in their place and then, just as fast as that frozen sensation had come, an invigorating heat flooded from his core to purge the cold and that scrambled feeling inside his head.

Flak pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes as he felt his thoughts coming back together. When he opened his eyes again, Felyn was standing right in front of him with her jaw visibly clenched and her eyes filled with worry. She made eye contact with him again, only this time there was no chill that arose inside him.

Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, Flak put his unlit pipe in his mouth and huffed at Felyn. "I was going to ask if you had some fire spell to light my pipe, but now I want to know what the Hell you just did right now."

"Did?" she wondered aloud while turning her head away.

"Hey, I'm right here. Look at me when I talk to you."

Hesitantly, the Drow turned her head back toward him, but she kept her eyes low. Raising an eyebrow at her behavior, Flak said, "My head was all fucked up when that monster looked into my eyes, whatever you did fixed it. I'm curious to know how."

He watched Felyn grit her teeth before she risked looking directly into his gaze again. The immediate effect was a tingle in his head and chest as she seemed to be concentrating on something other than his face. Soon that unnerving feeling washed away and was replaced by a calming sensation, and whatever held the Drow's focus surprised her.

"Well?" he prompted when she seemed too distracted. "What did you do just now?"

"A... test, of sorts. With something I was born with," she said, and Flak observed her lower her guard some, with an obvious show of caution. "I make eye-contact and I can connect with other beings through their emotions. Even somewhat sense thoughts. My kind call it Empathy, and it's something I am still learning to control."

What the fuck... You know what, fuck it. This is Raska; weird is normal.

"So that would be the reason you never look me in the eye," Flak guessed, and she nodded.

"I almost killed Galen once," she said, and he would have bet that she had told this story a few times already. It didn't feel like a first-time confession because of his charm. "He has a strong heart and I did not expect it at the time."

"Strong heart?" he grunted. "What is that supposed to mean?"

The Dark Elf looked mildly irritated but he just stared with an arching brow and expectant glare, waiting for his answer. She was explaining more mystical shit he would have been laughing at right now if he hadn't had his brain put through a blender by a Dragon and she somehow fixed it with a glance.

"It means he has fewer conflicts between his ideals and his actions than most," she said as if that was merely a trait, like having blond hair.

Flak gave her a dry grin, sucking on his pipe. "I see, so he's a real knight in shining armor. Got it." Somehow the mental image suited the kid, even if the older man knew it wouldn't last. "So how did that 'almost kill' him and you?"

Felyn nodded, glad to be back on track. "I nearly tore both our heads apart before I could get control back." Seeing his expression, she headed off his next question. "I met his gaze and was struck by his more powerful emotions, which flooded my chest like a water skin under the water fall. I tried to remove those emotions but only ended up feeding them back into Galen, which in turn came back to strike me again. Had I not brought it under control, we would have been left... what is your word... in a death sleep. Never to wake. 'Got it'?"

"Got it," he answered, a bit more understanding of her avoidance that he had thought to be disrespect.

He also got another pert nod from her. "Since then I have been wary of meeting another Earth-Human."

Holding the Elf's gaze, Flak cocked an eyebrow and sat up straight while crossing his arms. "I'm not so difficult for your 'power' to handle, am I?"

She shook her head for a negative. "No, you feel... more settled than Galen. Where his emotions feel like I'm trying to tame fast waters, yours feel like a dam. Solid, stable, but dangerous should the wall be cracked."

A chuckle escaped him when he heard that, his head bowing as he looked to his boots. Yeah, me and just about every other NCO on the ass-end of their tour...

Pulling the pipe from his mouth, he raised his head back up and presented it to her, asking, "You got something to light this?"

Nodding, Felyn flicked her fingers at the pipe, the top layer of tobacco suddenly glowing as a low flame rippled across the leaves. With an appreciative nod, he brought the pipe back to his lips and took a deep inhale. Exhaling the cloud out through his nose, he narrowed his eyes on the Drow and rose from his seat.

"Thanks. Now let's get moving here. Lizard pulled a lot of supplies out of the Herc' and I don't plan on leaving it out for someone else."

...

"Do you feel different?" Celia whispered, her terrified sobbing coming to an end.

Hugging onto his love, Galen rested his head on top on hers and thought for a moment as he focused on his internals. Whether it was magical or physical, he tried to detect any change brought by that Dragon's fire, but aside from a tingle under his skin he couldn't feel anything.

"No," he answered. "Do you?"

She sniffled. "I feel some of my forest magic. Like when was with my clan. Not a lot, but it feels like it is growing."

Galen's brow arched down. They should have been killed and turned to ash, not changed once again. He glanced to Petra who was kneeling beside them; while she did have a worried look, she didn't seem to be focusing on any one thing about him. Her attentions seemed to shift between him and Celia as she rubbed the Elf's back and listened to them speak in Elven.

"Does anythin' seem different 'bout us?" he asked, the assassin's ears perking and tail batting behind her.

Her eyes narrowed critically and shifted up and down over both him and Celia. Even her nose flared slightly as he heard her inhale. Ultimately she shook her head and answered, "Your eyes are still that lighter shade of blue, but that's all I can tell."

Galen nodded as he continued pondering on what the Dragon had tried to accomplish. It had immolated him, Celia, and Felyn in a cold, blue flame that had appeared to have done nothing. At least to him. An idea struck him and he turned his head toward Felyn as she lit Flak's pipe and made eye contact with him. She didn't react with so much as a flinch.

She's getting a better hold on her Empathy. Fast.

Flak said something to her and stood up, taking another inhale from his pipe before he started moving towards Galen. Felyn's eyes shifted and for one moment, met with the Private's. He felt a tingle in his chest, a touch of warmth flourish in his belly, but that was it. The Empath didn't even blink. Galen was shocked, and relieved.

Holy... Maybe that was it. Maybe the Dragon was after her and Celia and I were just in the way...?

"How's Celia doing?" Flak asked as he approached, bringing both Galen and Petra's attention to him.

"She's calmed down," Galen answered. "We're just tryin' to figure out what th' blue fire did. Or was supposed to do."

The Sergeant nodded, taking a puff from his pipe. "Time will tell, Private Martin. Time will tell. For now we should start tending to the bodies and sorting through the supplies. And then we'll see if that God-gifted Jeep fucking starts."

...

Under the increasing heat of the afternoon sun, Galen and Flak worked to place the remains of the airmen into the holes carved out by the Dragon. They removed dog tags and fashioned crosses from materials they had at hand, ensuring everything was done as respectfully as possible when laying the men to rest. When the graves were filled in and the soil smoothed over, the group stood before them and paid their respects in their own ways.

The two soldiers ensured their countrymen were given proper goodbyes before sorting through the supplies they had brought on their final journey.

Once they had finished, Petra began working with Galen in getting boxes off of pallets and spreading them out so they could be searched. Anything that was locked was quickly opened by Felyn through tools, magic, or an axe wielded by Flak. The four worked swiftly to get an idea on what had come in on the airplane before the Staff-Sergeant uncovered a box that had pencils and a supply of writing paper. From there he began recording while Celia retreated to their wagon to meditate and keep out of the way.