Work Text:
And as the night wore on, the silence of the winter was broken by the sound of wings.
At first a light fluttering, the sound of a house sparrow flitting from branch to branch.
And then louder - a murder of crows, a gaggle of geese - and louder and louder.
And then the rushing noise -- the sound of standing unprotected in a windstorm. It filled our ears and filled our minds, and we cried out for mercy and covered our faces. So sudden the wolf in the wind had set upon us, so sudden did we find ourselves battered and beaten with the rage and fury of a tempest. This was unnatural, this was unfathomable - this was impossible.
We raised our voices into the whirling din, the wind tearing the words from our throats as if by force. Protect us! Greedily, hungrily, it snatched our desperate howls from our lips. Protect us, o lord of the sun!
— the sun.
The sound and the noise - the baying of the wolf in the wind - began to grow distant. One of us sang a prayer, a shuddering voice trying to call out to the heavens, but so scared and unsure that it became feeble and eventually fell back into silence.
With aching pace, the fury slowed, wavered -- stopped. Had our god protected us?
With held breath and weak hearts, we dared look out from behind our arms.
— the sun is at rest.
Before our eyes, a creature made of birds. An ever-moving, ever-shifting cluster of wings, the milky moonlight setting brilliant white feathers aglow with a shine like the pearls worn by royalty. It was at once marvellous and terrifying, and I dared not take my eyes from it.
My colleagues were less entranced, with one howling prayers to the heavens and another stumbling to his feet and staggering away. I felt no sense of dread from this being, however, and so I felt no fear - no need to run and hide.
— why have you strayed so far into the wilds, where there is nothing for you but earth and withered trees.
And my tongue moved to answer without hesitation: the land within the mountains contains minerals, and we have been contracted to find them. Have we trespassed upon your land? -- there were but two of us left, with the other crying and pleading for mercy, seemingly without need. Who would fear something this beautiful?
— in a way, yes.
For that I apologize; we did not know -- I continued with more confidence; there was no anger or malice in its voice, nothing at all threatening. It did not move from where it stood, although the wings of the being were constantly fluttering and shivering, feathers rippling in the dry breeze of the wastelands.
— that is satisfactory. (here the head of the creature raised high, and I drew in a sharp breath) And I am... pleased by your humility. So I shall tell you now: avert your eyes.
There was nothing to do but obey, and within moments, the furious wind picked up once more, filled with the sound of a thousand wingbeats echoing in the air. My colleague, the one who had not attempted retreat, gave a frantic and horrified scream -- which was silenced, instantly, at the same time as the noise of the flock. My human curiosity betrayed me then, and I dared to peek from behind my arms, thrown up to cover my face from the winds as I had done when the being had first visited us.
The wings were still, and pulled tight to the being's body.
And instead, the creature of birds had become a creature of eyes. Staring, glaring; fierce and furious. The voice that had spoken with such quiet softness to me suddenly seemed deeply unsuitable for the creature that now held itself still in the sky, supported by six grand wings. Somehow still beautiful, yet so much a monster.
A few of the eyes swivelled, and they locked with my own; I couldn't hide my gasp of surprise, caught in my disobedience.
— there is nothing to fear. (the small wings relaxed and once again covered up the eyes) It is finished. You -- you, I have already allowed on this land.
B-but-- I was stammering a bit. But the others..?
— there are no others.
And indeed, so it was. They were no longer there, the man who had been with me and the others who had attempted to run. And when I had turned back to see the creature, the glorious grotesque, the monstrous angel - so it, too, had vanished. All gone, and never to be seen again.
There are no others.
I returned to my village in ragged shape, and it was easy to claim the rest of my group lost to the wilds of the mountain and the wrath of the jagged stones - we were not the first to be defeated by the wilds. There was no need to mention the all-seeing being with the beautiful, lovely wings; no need to mention the tranquil fury that tore the others from the land of the living.
It all seems so long ago. I returned to the wilderness many times thereafter, for no reason beyond a deep-rooted desire to go back, like a forlorn dog seeking attention from someone that had been kind to it. However I saw nothing more than gray skies and distant shadows of birds - no more did I see the being.
-- but never did I stop seeing those eyes.