“Therult’s Herald of the divine empress used to fly.” That’s what they had said, before the newest Herald took on the mantle.

“A child of just thirteen,” they said, “How can a child so young lead the empress’ most devout servants?”

But then they saw the wings. “The Herald can fly!” they now say, “Our Herald can fly. Truly the Empress must love the Herald most of all her children.”

The golden child, just thirteen years old.

“We love our Herald, just as our Empress does!” they had said, “Our Herald protects us, just as our Empire does!”

They held the Herald’s wings, “To admire our Herald’s beautiful feathers,” they had said, “We wouldn’t have our Herald without them!”

They adorned the Herald with silver chains, “To protect our Herald!” they promised, “We cannot lose our Herald! The blood of the Empress runs true in our Herald!”

They put a blade in the Herald’s hand, “Kill our enemies, Herald,” they asked, “In the name of the Empress!”

The Herald’s wings dripped red, “We love our Herald, just as our Empress does!” they cried, “Our Herald kills for us! Just as our Empire does!”

The Herald wept, “We love our Herald, just as our Empress does!” they cried, “Our Herald kills for us! Just as our Empire does!”

The golden child, just thirteen years old.

Pity the Herald — by Tziva Stravetna

It turns out this was a terrible idea. But it was far too late for regrets as Annie, Grinner, and Jaigra hurtled down toward certain and paste-like death. Oh well, live and learn.

Annie was going to focus on the “Live” part of that sentiment.

She was free falling about ten feet away from Grinner’s truck and a couple hundred feet from the ground. Not much time to work, Annie would have to make something fast.

She ran her fingers along the shawl and pulled two fistfuls of sunset thread free, weaving them rapidly between her fingers in an intricate pattern of light before throwing it outwards, wrapping a net of light around the truck with Grinner and Jaigra inside. 

Annie pulled more threads from the shawl, binding a few around her wrists and attaching the others to the net before slinging them towards the walls of the ravine where they stuck fast like harpoons. 

The threads brought the truck and its occupants to a sudden and painful halt, suspended in the ravine with Annie clinging to the outside of the net. She held fast despite the pain that thrummed in her shoulder under the strain, grateful she’d grabbed it with her good(ish) arm instead of her bloody one.

A bullet whizzed past her ear and she flailed briefly before scrambling along the netting. She saw Jaigra climbing around the topsy-turvy truck making her way towards her and groaned. 

“Grinner!” she shouted, “End the damn spell or I swear on the holy blood that I will fucking drop you!”

”If you drop me you drop your precious Seraph too!” Grinner’s voice came from inside the truck cabin, “Get me down properly and I might reconsider!” 

Annie was going to smash Grinner’s stupid porcelain face. He was right. Despite everything between them, she wouldn’t let Jaigra fall. And she couldn’t get one down without the other.

”Fine!” she called, “I can’t get you down if she shoots me though!”

“True.” Grinner agreed and snapped his fingers, “At ease, Lady Vrath. We can wait until Miss Flynn gets us down!”

Annie couldn’t see Jaigra, but she hoped she was putting away those pistols of hers long enough to let Annie work. The magic she had been weaving so far wasn’t true spellwork exactly, she didn’t use an incantation or prepare a complicated formula, instead she made versatile use of the Veil threads themselves. Her tattoos allowed her to weave quickly, and skipping the spellwork of magic let her work with the threads in all sorts of creative ways without burning them up for a spell.

She was trying to stretch the shawl’s supply of thread as long as she could, but the light shining from the fabric was already flickering like a dying candle. It didn’t take a magician to figure out that she was running low on thread.

Annie had hoped the supply it had absorbed from the Icon would last a little longer. She prayed that she at least had enough thread to get them all down, maybe then she could figure out a plan to get out of this bind alive.

She wiped the blood from her lip with her sleeve and then pulled a length of thread from the shawl. She had an idea. It was a stupid one, but it was an idea. The only one she had. 

She wrapped the thread around her waist and slowly lowered herself beneath the truck, as if she were rappelling down a cliffside. Once beneath the thing, she attached more thread to the net and threw it to the ground. It stuck to the earth like glue and formed a gentle curve from the truck’s undercarriage to the earth.

Next Annie looped several threads along her newly attached line and harpooned those to the walls as she had the others. Her stomach dropped as she looked over her work, but there wasn’t much else she could do with the thread she had left.

“Gods I hope this works.” She whispered to herself. 

Annie clambered back up to the top of the netting and looked down at Jaigra, “You’re going to want to hold onto something.” she said and then pushed her hand into the bloody wound on her side. She slashed her fingers across the netting as if they were talons, severing the sunset threads she had woven to allow the truck to spill forth from the net.

It tipped forward and then began to pick up speed, its wheels rolling on the netting as it unfolded along the new threads towards the bottom of the ravine like it was some sort of ramp. 

Annie whooped as they sped down the threads, holding her hat to keep it from blowing off as the air rushed past them. There was the ominous sound of snapping behind them and she looked back to see the threads tethered to the ravine walls were dissolving one after the other, causing the thread ramp to wobble back and forth like an incredibly perilous seesaw. 

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit—-“ Annie cursed.

The last of the suspending threads snapped beneath them and the truck was suddenly in free fall. Annie didn’t even have time for another curse before they hit the ground. The truck flattened on top of itself, destroying its suspension and crushing the wheels beneath its sudden weight. An airbag burst out from the passenger window with a wheeze, and then the ravine was silent.

”Another happy landing.” Annie said to no one in particular as she dragged herself up out of the shrub she’d landed in. 

Grey threads emerged around her, circling Annie like sharks, “Marvelous work, Miss Flynn,” Grinner sneered, “But I have had enough of this little game.” The threads ensnared her, binding her arms and legs while avoiding her blood. 

“Vrath! If she moves, kill her.” Grinner ordered. Jaigra drew one of her pistols and aimed it at Annie’s chest.

”It was a bit too much to hope you’d keep your word, huh?” Annie wheezed.

“You wound me Stranger!” Grinner put a hand to his heart, “I told you I might, reconsider your terms. I would never promise anything I couldn’t deliver!”

”How sweet.” Annie squirmed in her bindings. If she could just get a bit of blood on them…

Grinner grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his eyes, “I expected more from Therult’s famous Herald. You were the embodiment of doom and retribution in your prime, now you’re just…” he gestured up and down at her dismissively, “This.”

”Sorry to disappoint.” Annie spat at him. Her spittle splattered along his porcelain lips and dribbled down his white chin.

”You wretch!” Grinner backhanded her, throwing Annie to the ground, “I am going to rip your mind apart! I will twist your thoughts into razors and drive them through your skull until you are begging me to kill you!” 

“At least buy me dinner first…” Annie said weakly.

“Hold her!” Grinner snapped at Jaigra. The Seraph slipped her arms under Annie’s and hauled her to her feet.

”Shit, I forgot how strong you are. You’re going to make me blush, Vrath.” Annie smirked.

”I’m pleased you find this amusing,” Grinner lifted a hand to show her his plain metal ring, “Is there anything in particular you’d like written in your obituary?”

Annie opened her mouth to comment, but a searing pain shot through her skull before she got the chance to speak. Instead she just screamed.

”Hmm, I don’t know how to write down an agonized scream, but I’m sure I can figure it out!” Grinner cackled, and then placed his hand against Annie’s temple, “Goodbye, Stranger.”

Annie’s whole body strained and convulsed in Jaigra’s arms, thrashing like a wounded animal until she suddenly went limp.

”Aw, I was hoping for a bit more than that.” Grinner sighed, “Oh well!” He turned away from Annie.

There was a polite cough from behind him.

”Seriously? You waited until now to try your mind control shit?”

Grinner whipped around and found the Stranger glaring daggers at him.

She cocked her head and gave him a lopsided grin. ”Magic blood, remember?” She threw her head back and smashed it into Jaigra’s nose. She stumbled backwards, clutching at it as blood streamed through her fingers.

Annie was on Grinner in seconds. She grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off his feet, “Dispel your Arcanum,” she ordered and drew her pistol, “Now.”

”Clever girl,” Grinner choked, “But I still have the winning hand. Rip open the Veil, Seraph!” 

An ear-piercing shriek erupted from behind Annie. She dropped Grinner and spun to face Jaigra. She had produced a Seraph’s dagger needle and thrust it into the air, splitting a seam in space and slowly rending open the walls of reality. Colors bled from the world around them and space twisted, filling Annie with sudden vertigo that brought her to her knees.

Grinner’s keening laughter could be heard over the shriek of the tear, “Wonderful, my dear, simply wonderful!”

If the Seraph heard him she gave no indication, just continued to tear a larger and larger hole in the Veil until it was as tall as she was. Shapes moved on the other side, indistinct but becoming clearer as they approached the tear.

“Jaigra!” Annie grabber her by the shoulders, “Jaigra stop it! He’ll get us all killed!” 

The Seraph was numb to Annie’s words, continuing to carve open reality.

”Jaigra,” Annie placed a hand against her face, “Jaigra, please…” Annie pressed her bloody lips to Jaigra’s, a last desperate plea full of everything the two of them could never say. Then Annie stepped back, “Jaigra?”

Jaigra’s hands dropped to her side. Her eyes were hazy and unfocused, as if she were completely oblivious to the Veil tear in front of her.

”Andromeda?” she murmured.

“Jaigra!” Annie pulled her away from the tear, “Gods you’re heavy. Wake up and get away from the murder hole!” Jaigra stumbled behind her, holding her hand loosely and following along in a daze. 

“Annie!” Jaigra smiled, her eyes clearer, “You came ba—“

A gunshot cracked the air. Jaigra collapsed to the ground. 

“Enough!” Grinner shrieked, “I have had enough! You will not rip this away from me you fucking bitch!” He held one of Jaigra’s pistols in his hand and marched towards the pair, “You have ruined this entire escapade! All of my work, gone! Destroyed! There’s nothing left for me to bring back! You’ve dashed my plot to take the turbine and now you’ve ruined my Seraph! If I can bring back nothing else, I will bring back your corpse!”

Annie knelt next to Jaigra and turned her over, putting a finger to her neck. Then she took her shawl and wrapped it around Jaigra’s abdomen. “Same old holes.” she muttered.

”Are you listening to me? I am going to kill you!” Grinner put the pistol to the back of Annie’s head. Annie’s hand whipped behind her like a striking viper and seized Grinner’s wrist. In one smooth motion she had him over her shoulder and laid out on the ground.

“An embodiment of doom and retribution?” Annie echoed him, her fingers sparking with violet red light, “You have no idea.”

There was a thump as a figure fell from the Veil onto the ground. Annie paid it no mind. She brought her bloody hand to her ear and clasped her small sword earring between her fingers, pricking her thumb on the end of it and speaking words she’d long abandoned.

“Crimson Regalia.”

Blood red wings spread out from behind the Stranger, blocking the sun above them and enveloping Grinner in their shadow. Her eyes glowed with red light and Grinner found himself paralyzed with fear.

Annie turned to Jaigra’s fallen form, “Mend.”

Feathers separated from the wings and settled atop Jaigra’s body, glowing with red light. Threads grew from the feathers and wove themselves through the bullet wound in Jaigra’s stomach, pulling it closed and sewing the flesh back together until it was like the wound had never marred her flesh.

There was the crack of a gunshot and Annie glanced over her shoulder. Grinner had propped himself on one elbow and had his pistol pointed at her. She curled a wing to inspect it and found a bullet stuck between its feathers. Annie’s gaze drifted from the bullet down to Grinner.

“Sever.”

Feathers encircled Grinner’s arm with threads of red light strung between them and then wove through the air around him. The light split the flesh in a spray of blood and Grinner’s severed arm fell to the ground. 

She ignored his screaming in favor of the half dozen bodies that had now emerged from the tear. Each bore some aspect of the ravine: the lithe body of a predator, thick bark-like skin, limbs that reached up like branches, and eyes that were two dark pits waiting for someone to fall into them. Demons of every shape and size the Ravine could provide, all from this single tear.

Annie waved a hand and feathers flew towards the pack of demons, scattering around them as threads of red light created a cage trapping the pack in place. The Herald’s great wings flapped, kicking up a windstorm as she rose from the ground to look down on the demons from above.

She closed her hand into a fist, “Scatter.”

The feathers’ threads cut across the demons like razor wire, vivisecting their newly formed bodies in a storm of light and blood. When the dust cleared, all that was left of them was paste.

Annie looked to the tear, “Stitch.”

The enchanted feathers leapt to her command, carrying threads towards the tear and stitching the air around it just like they had Jaigra’s wound. A feather connected to the threads drifted into Annie’s waiting hand. She enclosed her fingers around it gently and tugged on it, pulling the new seam around the veil closed and bringing deafening silence to the ravine.

The Herald drifted to the ground and relinquished the feather in her hand. Her wings scattered along with it, caught up in the wind that carried her feathers to the sky and beyond. Annie smiled at Grinner. A cold smile that didn’t reach her ruby eyes.

“Doom and retribution, just like you said.” She drew her pistol and made her way towards him, “I haven’t been able to use my arcanum in years. But you opened the Veil for me, thank you.”

Grinner looked up at her, clutching the severed remains of his arm and wheezing. Shards of bone peeked out from beneath his flayed skin amidst strips of exposed muscle and shredded flesh. He was a sorry sight, crumpled on the ground with his white porcelain jaw was smeared with gore and his velvet clothes black with blood. But the thing that struck Annie the most was his eyes. They were wide and brimming with tears, two watery puddles of pathetic misery.

“You… You’re a monster!” He choked.

”Close. I’m a Stranger.” Annie pulled back the hammer.

“That’s right! You’re a Stranger! Strangers have rules! You kill monsters, not people! You’re not the Herald anymore, you won’t kill a human being!” The tears spilled over, carving rivets in the crusted blood.

“You’re right.” Annie said.

Relief spread across his face and he tried to wipe the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, only succeeding in smearing more blood across them. He pulled his hand away and was met with the barrel of her gun.

“We kill monsters.” She pulled the trigger.