Chapter Text
“That gun’s going to kill everyone.”
Ballister’s voice was raspy - from breathing smoke or pure dread, Nimona couldn’t tell.
The cannon grinded like rolling thunder, charge illuminating the billowing smoke with a sickly green glow. She could feel the intent of it - the malice and terrible certainty as it’s maw opened wider, energy brightening.
Nimona remembered a tornado, long ago. The filmy-green sky, roaring winds, the sudden silent certainty as a thread of death reached out to touch the plains below. They hadn’t always stayed in the city. They knew the wide lands surrounding the kingdom just as well as they knew their own forms.
An idea-!
“Hey boss,” she smirked, tension falling from her shoulders as the plan rooted and grew.
Ballister’s eyes were wide, terrified and lost.
“Be right back.” She hoped the confidence would be infectious, as Nimona declared; “I’m gunna go break some stuff.”
“Wait, Nimona- what are you-?”
He was already reaching out, already trying to keep her safe, even as the cannon ground to a halt with its focus on their position. Its charging whine rang in her ears, warbling like a laughing bird over the screaming people below.
A weapon turned on those it vowed to protect. A Shepherd happy to slaughter its own sheep in pursuit of a single wolf.
“I’m gonna rewrite this story.”
She leapt from the statue, already transforming.
Now, Nimona knew her ability had limits.
- It must be an animate object. Nothing inanimate, like a rock. They’d end up just as dead.
- It must be a real animal. Something that was, at some point, alive.
That last one could be pushed a bit. It could be twisted. Nimona could do partial changes, and twist up the forms of existing animals to blend them together. As one clever knight pointed out, her otter wasn’t precisely a river or sea otter. More of an amalgamation of both. Cute and deadly!
The traits of animals carried through, even in partial transformations.
Fish could breath water.
Birds could fly and sing.
Dragons could breathe fire (or other substances), and their wings could carry enormous loads without strain.
Rare, dragons, but they did exist.
Nimona spread her wings, felt magic ignite across her back, erupting between every feather.
The cannon was built to take out enormous beasts. Monsters, the institution claimed. The blast would be incredible.
Ballister called her name, perhaps understanding her goal, perhaps just scared of the danger. He was so brave, reckless to do what he thought was right. Throwing himself into danger for truth and honor, heedless of the concequences.
Maybe, for once, Nimona could do things his way.
Pink light bathed the city, phoenix flames soaring overhead. The cannon sizzled, ready to fire. Nimona sensed a spike of furious malice from the gun, lunging forward in one final beat of mighty wings.
She turned her chest up, wings spreading wide to defend the city with her own body. Enveloping the gun, even as it fired into her heart.
It wasn’t a sword, it wasn’t death.
A phoenix was rebirth.
Nimona felt the blast. She felt every injury.
But, she had been beheaded before. Killed before. Sliced into parts, crushed, stabbed, electrocuted. At a certain point, the pain became boring. Brains whited out and stopped perceiving it properly.
Being atomized by an energy weapon was certainly a new method, but the end result was the same.
She wondered, not for the first time, if there was actually any way to kill her. Throwing herself on the sword of a statue was terribly dramatic, and had felt fitting at the time, but wasn’t precisely effective way to kill a shapeshifter.
Nimona sank into the phoenix’s magic, into her own magic.
And from the smallest cells still remaining in the ash, the phoenix rose again.
Of course, it took a while. Reconstituting from a few cells meant things like memory and higher thought were scarce at first. Nimona’s time spent as a baby bird in the wreckage wasn’t particularly fun. Or smart.
But, she was alive. Feathers regrew. Memories trickled back in. Certain things… uh, stayed.
It was interesting to watch the city change, as they realized what a wide world they actually lived in. How cautiously curious the people really were.
How quickly they made memorials of her, and started building up on the wall so they could SEE out over the great mountains that surrounded them.
She stayed hidden longer than planned, just watching the world change. Goldenloins and Boss led the charge on some changes, but mostly stood as figurehead for this bright new world.
But really, it was just too sad to see Boss moping around the base like that. Setting up a memorial to them, like they were still dead.
“You promised, didn’t you?”
She shifted to a fox, enormous ears perking up to listen.
“If we cleared my name, you’d be my sidekick forever. So-
You have to come back.”
Ballister’s sad voice was unbearable. Half an inch from openly weeping, he really ought have been born a small furry critter. Perfect for scooping out of a wet cardboard box.
Nimona sighed, glancing at the feathery flames that still licked across her bodies, no matter what form she took. A lingering artifact of the phoenix rebirth. She’d never had to rely on it so entirely before, so… it was new. Persistent.
Nimona flicked her ears, swooping up into a human just long enough to knock on the familiar door, before flying around to dart in through the back window as a bird.
They had made a promise to each other, after all. A proper oath. Handshook and everything.
Boss’s face lit up like a kid with a new puppy when he saw her, scooping Nimona up like the fire and magic shimmering off her skin was nothing but light and mist.
He was fucking good at hugs, ok?
That’s the only reason she stayed human for this. Plus it meant her other senses were dulled when he started sobbing over her shoulder.
What a crybaby.
Those were phoenix tears. He was injured, and her body reacted.
She wasn’t crying.
She wasn’t.