Sora slammed awake.

His body trembled from the cold, his clothes, soaked. Icy rain pelted his face like a volley of numbing, liquid arrows. Severe pain drummed his head. He felt sick and his stomach churned until he heaved up a hot helping of vomit. Dizzy and blind, black cloth concealed his vision and a tie of rope constricted his wrists. Around his waist clenched an immense amount of pressure, and while his perception was utterly skewed, he could sense he was being hauled through the air. He called desperately for Jynn.

There was no reply.

He could hardly hear himself think over the turmoil of the monsoon. The storm was worse than he ever could have imagined. He struggled to break his wrists free, twisting and jerking at the bond, but his efforts proved useless. He reached for his sword, "Damn." – gone. He furiously patted his cloak and was relieved to find the handle of a dagger still concealed underneath. He pulled it from its sheath and with the handle gripped between his teeth, he began sawing the ties at his wrists. With steady effort the rope gave and Sora fumbled to remove the veil from his eyes.

Horror struck him: a fear he hadn't felt in a long while.

Crowrider

The creature's stygian wings battered the air like a blacksmith's hammer. One of its feral talons locked around his waist and in the other was Jynn, limp and unconscious.

He saw dawn rising on the eastern horizon, but the storm showed no sign of ceasing. He called out the casters' name, drowned out by the quarrel of thunder and lightning. He called again—many times—yet nothing in response. Dread began to settle in his mind, and he prayed against the possibility of Jynn's death. With another glimpse he caught the bird craning is monstrous neck toward him. Sora did what he thought was best, given the situation. He made slack his body, hoping the winged beast hadn't noticed, and hung there as if dead.

Sora felt the crow's eyes drilling into the back of his skull. Every second felt like an eternity, and he had no way of knowing if the nightmare still watched. His thoughts were a stampede of panicked horicons, dashing along with his frayed nerves. He quickly realized that remaining still was as hopeless as it was practical. His entire body trembled within the gusts of frigid air, and if crows are the symbols of wisdom the tales say they are, this one would have seen right though his ploy.

A sudden scream penetrated the line of tension. Jynn! Sora's eyes shot open and nearly sank back into their sockets. Through an upside-down glare he saw enormous, hellish eyes of lambent crimson laid under a gnarled beak. The crow unleashed a shrill caw he was sure could be heard across the region.

Jynn had awakened, fighting against the beast's grasp through an onslaught of curses.

"Jynn!"

"Sora?" the caster replied. "Is that you?"

"Jynn, listen close. Give me your hands. Now!"

"What's—"

"Your hands!"

And so Jynn did. Sora noticed the bird's gaze had returned skyward; its wings beating faster against the storm. Constrained within its grasp he struggled to reach the casters hanging from the other talon. The dagger quivered in his hand, and he couldn't decide if it was from the bitter cold or the fear that had set in his heart. He began cutting through the rope, severing its thick twine little by little until it gave.

With his hands freed, Jynn removed his blind and caught sight of what laid in wait. All but one unpleasant word failed him as he exhaled.

The bird began descending, and quickly. It unleashed another deafening caw.

"Jynn, is there anything you can do?"

"Magi? Not a chance." Jynn refused his plea. "It would kill me. I'm completely drained."

Sora had already assumed the worst. "Jynn!" He glanced at the dagger. "On my word, be ready."

"Wait," Jynn bleated, "ready for wha—"

"Now!"

Sora sunk the dagger into the beast's talon and dragged the blade in a ripping motion. The crow released its grip, twisting and shaking its limbs with followed by a distressed caw. They both clenched the bird's leg, like frightened children embracing their mother. Sora clasped the dagger in his fist and thrust it repeatedly into the bird's belly. A blackened, powdery substance spewed out of the wound. He had never seen anything quite like it—didn't much care—but it wasn't blood, that much he was sure. Rather like dust, dark and dry.

The crow yielded a screech loud enough to make them wince. It fell, flailing its giant wings in an anguished spiral. Wet, slick, and exhausted, Sora struggled to hold on, constantly adjusting his grip with the bird's movements. They descended ever closer to the ground, fast. "Brace yourself!"

It wasn't but a moment before the bird crashed hard with a bellow as heavy as the roaring thunder. It landed on its back, rendering Sora and Jynn its body to break most of the fall. Sora strained every muscle to stand, offering a hand to Jynn who sat before him. The crow laid injured, violently twitching and wailing with its awful caws. Ahead of them, face down in the mud, was It—a being of the black; a fable, a myth, manifested into reality before them. A demon.

"Are you hurt?" Sora asked, slinging what grime he could from his garments.

Jynn winced and held his side. "I'm fine, a little bruised is all." He shot Sora a look of doubt. "You don't think—"

"What else could it be?"

"—Crowrider."

Sora took a brief moment to collect his thoughts in a conflicting state of marvel and fear. With that, he and the caster set off, determined to go as far and as fast their drenched, injured, and exhausted bodies would allow.

He noticed Jynn's hand return to his side. "You sure you're well?"

"I'm fine," Jynn said. "Damn you and your impulses, Sora! What were you thinking?"

"Who was it that voted to climb into the ravine?"

Sora watched as Jynn began to speak, but his words fell short. "Seems like a good idea now, aye?"

"Well, if I had known I'd be knocked unconscious and hurled through the air in the talons of a godsdamn bird, then aye, I'd say so." Jynn groaned. "But it is doubtless in what we saw. A demon roams your plains. What do you make of this?"

"I cannot answer that, but I am quite certain this is what the elder—" Sora dug his heels into a halt. "My sword! The rider has my sword. And your bow."

Jynn cocked him a sharp eye, followed by an expression inferably grim. "You must be jesting? Leave it. We go while we can."

"Jynn, you know what that blade means to me. We must go back. Besides, only the gods know where we are. These are strange times; what else lies out there? If something were to rise we'd be defenseless. Our end will be the same. You're drained. You think this measly dagger will be enou—"

"Okay, okay!" Jynn interrupted Sora's protests, pausing and turning back to look the way they'd came. "I'll help on one condition."

"Bold words to demand terms with a king," Sora jived. "But speak them."

"If we make it out alive." Jynn paused. "You must allow me a kiss from Ana—before the wedding."

Sora only looked at him for a moment, perplexed, but it was just what he'd expect the caster to say. Absurd and always at the most unsuitable of times, and he loved him for it. "Done." He nodded and extended a hand, which Jynn met with a firm shake. Not knowing what they would do if the beast should attack, they turned and trekked back, treading cautiously as they neared where they had landed. They sought their weapons, but their hope turned to dismay. There lay no crow—no rider even. No sword nor bow at all. "Gone?"

Nothing remained but a trail from the fall, rippling through the plains in muddied waves. Large feathers peppered the ground in black, muddy clumps. Sora spat a curse, picked up a feather, and glanced it over. Most definitely one of the biggest he had ever seen. With finger and thumb he wiped away the mud. The black feather was numbingly cold and unease settled over him. He could feel it—the corruption—pulsing through it in invisible, malevolent waves. It was the same black as he had seen all those years ago; the color of the betrayer, the endless abyss, the mark of ruin. The same dead-black that laid in his father's eyes. The colors of Hell.

He folded the feather in half and pushed it into the lining of his drenched cloak. He turned to meet Jynn's stare. The caster stood silent. They were stranded, and defenseless at that. He thought of Ana and how he had promised her he'd be fine; the way she always seemed to make him eat his own words. He wondered what had come of Eoshi, hoping his scaled friend was still alive. He thought of the crow and its hellish stare—the feather, the black. He thought of his father.

He noticed Jynn's mouth moving, but lost in his thoughts he heard nothing. "Forgive me, Jynn, say again."

"I asked what plan Your Grace had," Jynn repeated.

Sora sighed. "What other choice than walk? The bird carried us east, toward the Sandsea it seems." He surveyed the area. Visibility was limited, but he could tell they were still in the plains. "Our best option is to head north-west and hope we come across Dry Run, follow it back to the bridge. If they are alive, our mounts should still be at the crossing. Eoshi wouldn't leave." Or at least I hope he wouldn't.

Jynn hunkered into his cloak. It didn't much matter, as it served little to no warmth. It was wet and cold. Terribly cold. "What makes you think they'll be waiting? We have no rations, no supplies, and only a dagger as a weapon. Beasts have gone mad, demons roam the skies, and storms form from nothing. I hate to say it, Sora, but I, for once in my life, fear that we may not make it back alive." He grabbed at his side. "If all else, we'll freeze to death."

Sora raised his head in laughter. "You deprive a caster of his magi and they become useless as pigeon shit. White-faced, staining the monuments of will. Where is your will, kin?" He mocked the gatekeep. "What is this hallow shell of a man that travels witcha?"

Jynn smiled. "We will see if you laugh when I slip the Queen a bit of tongue."

"Or when I slip this boot up your arse." Sora returned the smile. "Come, caster, we live another day."

He judged the direction from the eastern dawn. They set out northwest as the storm continued to pound. Streams of lightning cast their silhouettes across the plains. They moved long enough that Sora could no longer feel his limbs; not that he really had felt them prior. Everything had gone nearly dead-numb. His muscles and joints throbbed with the pain of constant shivering; his exposed hands and face in frozen agony. The cold bit to the bone and, in truth, Sora realized there was a chance they may not make it out alive. He looked behind; Jynn had slowed his movements to a crawl. "Jynn?"

The caster's head hung limp to his chest. He made no reply, hesitantly taking step by slow step. Sora wasn't quite sure how much longer he could walk in the frigid monsoon, but he knew if he didn't do something Jynn would die. Would die right here before him, and the gods be damned if the work of a demon would take another life he held close. The harsh reality was there was nothing he could do. What could he do? The fault was his own for going alone. "Jynn, talk to me. Say something."

Jynn said nothing.

"Think of the castles, the warm beds, the strong ales, the women. Hear me, Jynn. Give me something." He took the casters' arm over his shoulder. Jynn winced and Sora watched the hand return to Jynn's side.

He finally saw.

"By the gods, Jynn! What happened?"

A hole bore though the casters cloak and tunic. Sora took Jynn's hand to see it painted in blood, quickly washed by the rain; his body punctured right below the ribs. "Why not tell me? This the crows doing? A talon?" Sora checked the wound; it wasn't too deep, half a palm in size, but who knew how long he had been bleeding. He wondered why Jynn had kept it from him. Throwing jests to save me from worry?

The caster fell to his knees. Sora's stomach churned with the sick feeling he associated with fear taking its twisted hold. Through the hood he could see the caster's face, pale. Deathly pale. "Jynn!" he yelled, his voiced laced with hysteria. "You crazy bastard, don't you die on me!"