The Union of the Tempest

Zane Joly

           Hasher made deals regularly, and he had learned how to read people, how to analyze their character from just their body language. And in all his experience, he had never met anyone like this woman.

            She hurt a bit to look at. She wore a dress that was a brilliant white like freshly fallen snow, and her skin and hair were both so pale that she might have been an albino. Her bright white-blonde hair was wild and untamed, sticking in every direction. Her eyes were a shade of blue that was almost white, and her gaze cut through the air like a knife.

            The pale woman sat in the chair across the desk from Hasher. She didn’t seem relaxed, but neither did she seem tense or anxious. She just constantly gave off the impression that she was about to move. Hasher had noticed that when she walked, she swayed from side to side as if she couldn’t decide where she was going, and didn’t really care. Her hands were smooth, absent of callouses or scars, and yet Hasher suspected that she knew how to fight. He was involved in a variety of illicit activities in the city and beyond, and she seemed like she would have made a good enforcer. Her presence had a certain terrifying air to it that kept you alert, like there was energy running through the air around her. He felt cautious in her presence, even with six guards armed with spears in the room.

            “I’m sure you know who I am,” said Hasher, “But I don’t think I caught your name.”

            “You may call me Ashni,” said the woman, in her bright, clear voice, “Should we skip the chit-chat and get to business?”

            “I quite enjoy chit-chat, but I suppose,” said Hasher, “You said you wanted information?”

            “Yes,” Ashni said, “I’m curious about a recent dealing of yours. I have it on good authority you knew the location of the Vessel of Thunder, and told someone where she- it was. I need to know who it was that you told, and where they took it.”

            “Ah,” said Hasher, “Unfortunately, I have a confidentiality policy with my clients. You wouldn’t want somebody knowing that you were here, would you?”

            “I don’t care who knows I’m here,” the woman said, “Feel free to tell anyone you want. Now who is it who took the Vessel of Thunder?”

            “Ms Ashni, I am being generous enough even receiving you on such short notice,” the man said. She had paid an extra fee for the privilege, and Hasher had been more interested in the fact that she had paid in gemstones than in the actual monetary value of the stones.

            Ashni looked over Hasher’s shoulder to the wall behind him. At Hasher’s back was a shelf full of tiny statues of animals, each one with gemstones set into it that softly glowed. “That’s what you were paid with, wasn’t it?”

            Hasher hesitated. He supposed he wouldn’t be violating his confidentiality if he told her about the payment. She already suspected anyway. “Yes,” he said, “The vessel statues. Created centuries ago. The serpent of frost, the panther of death, the hyena of conflict, the… well I won’t bore you with all of them. Collecting them is something of a passion of mine. I had quite a few, but for the information I provided, my clients gave me almost all of the ones that I was missing.”

            “All except one,” said Ashni.

            The man hesitated for a moment. “Indeed,” he said, “The horse of thunder. It's a very minor vessel, I’m surprised you noticed its statue isn’t here. Ironically it's the same vessel that I told those clients the location of.”

            Hasher noticed that Ashni’s eyes narrowed slightly at that, and her hands tensed and curled. “So,” she said, “I suppose you might be willing to make an exception to your confidentiality rule, then?” She twirled a hand and suddenly she was holding a tiny stone statue of a horse, rearing. The horse's eyes both gleamed with a dark gray light.

            “How…” Hasher began, staring at the figure in astonishment, “I assumed that it had been destroyed…”

            “So do we have a deal?” asked Ashni, “Tell me who you told where to find the Vessel of Thunder, and I’ll let you complete your collection. Seems more than fair.”

            “Alright,” said Hasher, doing his best to disguise his excitement, “I sold the information to the Cult of Corruption. I don’t know where they took the vessel, though.”

            “I do,” said Ashni, grimly, “Here’s your payment.” She set the horse down on the table and Hasher grabbed it like a child offered candy. But when he looked up, she was piercing him with her bright stare. “But if I ever hear of you messing with the vessels again, especially that one, then your flunkies will find charred and bloated pieces of you floating in the river. Glad we had this talk.”

            Ashni sprang to her feet almost impossibly quickly, turned around and started striding away from the desk. “Wait,” said Hasher. The woman in white paused, an irritated expression on her face. “You can’t hope to take on the Cult of Corruption. Even I’m afraid of them. What are you going to do?”

            “I’m going to go rescue a dumbass,” she answered.

            Hasher looked outside. It had started raining during their conversation. “This weather seems unpleasant to go out in,” he said.

            “Oh, it's definitely going to get unpleasant for someone,” Ashni said.

            Instead of heading for the door, she undid the latch on one of the windows and opened it up. Ashni lifted herself up and stood on the windowsill. Before Hasher could ask what she was doing, she leaned forward and fell. His meeting room was five stories above the ground. Hasher rushed over to the window. With a flash of light, the falling woman in white suddenly became a falcon, feathers gleaming a bright blue-white that glowed and cut through the darkness. The falcon swooped up, seeming to ignore the wind of the growing storm.

            Dazed, Hasher slowly stepped back from the window, and closed and re-latched it. He went over to his desk, picked up the horse of thunder statue and put it on the lowest shelf. Then he stopped and looked at the statue next to the horse. The falcon of lightning, with gemstones eyes that radiated a pale blue.

            Ashni soared through the air, willing the wind to flow the way she wanted, pushing her forward. She knew the Cult of Corruption had a ritual chamber in an abandoned warehouse near here, and it was probably where they’d taken Sorine.

            She headed to the warehouse district, and before long was close enough to sense the Vessel of Thunder’s presence. Ashni managed to pinpoint which of the buildings it was. It had large windows, but they were completely boarded up. The Vessel of Lightning flew higher and higher. Then she stopped, turned and dove.

            It took her about two seconds to break the sound barrier. She left a glowing, arcing trail of electricity behind her as she dove, and smashed through the boards over the window like they were made of thin paper.

            Ashni landed on the stone floor, leaving a scorch mark beneath her. She transformed back into a human form, her feathers shifting into light leather armor, the same bright white color her dress had been. But now her fingers curled into sharp talons and her eyes glowed like two stars.

            She looked around. Suspended above the floor by chains was a massive horse, a shire, with a dark gray coat. Its eyes were a twisting mass of gray that looked like swirling clouds. Chains wrapped around it, with several keeping its muzzle shut. Sorine, the Vessel of Thunder.

            “How’s it hanging?” asked Ashni, not too noble to make fun of her old associate’s humiliating position.

            Sorine exhaled sharply through her nostrils, making her displeasure clear. Ashni was cut off from her retort by someone crying, “It’s the falcon! Capture her!”

            Ashni looked around and noticed that much of the rest of the warehouse was full of cultists, armed with bows, spears, knives, and other such implements. Ordinarily she would have laughed at such things, but she sensed that their weapons were cursed, which did make them of some actual concern to her.

            The closest warrior slashed out at Ashni with a dagger that softly shimmered with unnatural red light. Quick as the lightning she personified, Ashni snatched the weapon out of the cultist’s hand and slashed their throat with it.

            “Wow, that was easy,” she commented. She looked up at Sorine. “Seriously, how did you get kidnapped by these guys? I mean, I knew you were a worse fighter than me, but wow.”

            Several cursed arrows flew through the air towards Ashni. Wings sprouted from her back and she easily sprang up and landed on the suspended horse. With the cursed knife, she started to cut through the chains binding the Vessel of Thunder. When Ashni had cut through most of them and Sorine’s front two legs were free, the mare bent upward and struck the chains with her hooves. At the force of a vessel’s might, the chains broke apart, which sent Sorine crashing to the ground. Ashni floated down after her more slowly, her wings outstretched.

            “Didn’t think that through, did you?” she asked with a smirk. The gray mare bent her head down and tried to strike at the chains that still bound her muzzle closed. When she couldn’t manage it, she looked up at Ashni expectantly.

            “I don’t know,” she said, twirling the dagger between her fingers, “I kind of like the idea of you being quiet for once. Maybe you should stay like this.”

            Sorine reared up on her back legs and fell back down, striking the ground as hard as she could with her front hooves. An ear splitting BOOM filled the room, reverberating off the walls. Ashni winced and the cultists cowered and covered their ears.

            “I guess you being quiet wasn’t ever really an option,” the peregrine falcon said, “Alright, fine.” She stepped forward and cut the chains binding the other vessel’s mouth. Sorine didn’t exactly use her mouth to speak, but the chains binding it would have been enchanted to silence her voice, regardless.

            “What in the name of all logic and reason are you doing here?” the Vessel of Thunderasked, her magical voice echoing through the air like the element she embodied.

            Ashni spoke in a deep voice imitating the horse’s, “‘Oh thanks for saving me, Ashni, especially since I have given you no motivation to ever do such a thing for me and am such an arrogant jerk’.”

            Sorine kicked a nearby cultist, and Ashni winced. A normal horse kick was bad enough, but one empowered with the strength of the storm itself was not the kind of thing you came back from. “Only two minutes in your presence, and you have already reminded me why I left you,” commented the horse.

            “If I recall-” began Ashni before she had to dodge out of the way of an arrow. She sighed and outstretched an arm, a bolt of lighting flashing forward and striking one of the archers. She continued to blast cultists as she said, “If I recall, I was the one who left you.”

            “Then why did you return?” asked the horse, sending out shockwaves as she stomped on the ground, “Did you get bored pretending to be a human and decide you wanted to come gloat again?”

            “Two points,” said Ashni, “First: I came to save you not because we used to work together, but because these idiots would have corrupted you and I don’t want to deal with a monster vessel trying to destroy everything. I’d have done the same thing for any of the other vessels. Though, admittedly, a corrupted you wouldn’t be that much of a threat compared to, say, the Vessel of Ice, or me. Second: I am not pretending to be a human. I’m just enjoying the advantages of being a vessel. You should try it, Miss Clippy-Cloppy.”

            “I have no desire to be a biped for any longer than necessary,” responded Sorine, kicking and biting the cultists near her, “But if it’ll make you be quiet about it, I’ll switch. But only if you do too. I think you forget too often you’re just a falcon under there.”

            “Fine,” said Ashni. She transformed into a massive falcon with a twelve foot wingspan. The feathers on the top of her wings and back that would ordinarily be black radiated blue-white. At the same time, Sorine transformed into an ebony-skinned woman wearing dark gray plate armor. Her hair flowed behind her in a wild mane that reached down to her feet.

            Ashni flew up and dove down again and again, ripping apart her prey with her sharp talons and beak. One of the cultists attempted to stab Sorine with a cursed spear. It didn’t pierce her armor, but did leave a long scar in the metal, a vulnerable weak spot. She growled and clapped her hands together, creating a soundwave that made the eardrums of the cultists around her burst.

            “Oh no,” said Ashni, whose magical voice crackled through the air, “You guys better watch out. You face the insurmountable power of loud sounds. I feel so insignificant, when all I can do is this.” The giant falcon flapped her wings and a massive bolt of lighting flew forth from the tips of her wings. It hurtled down to one of the cultists, frying their nerves before flying from them to the next one, and the next one after that. Once the lightning was spent, six cultists lay dead on the floor.

            “Are we really having the argument about who's more powerful again?” asked Sorine. She shifted back into horse form to kick an approaching combatant behind her.

            Ashni transformed back into a human, falling and landing on one of the cultists. “Considering it's an argument in which I’m right, yeah, why not?” she asked, snapping the neck of the man she’d landed on, “Thunder is just sound. You know who else can make loud sounds? Literal babies. Your entire purpose is to announce my presence, and you’re always late to do that.”

            “Without thunder, lighting is a brief flash of light and a momentarily pretty visual, which might knock a branch off a tree. Thunder is what people are actually, instinctively afraid of, regardless of which is technically more dangerous.”

            “Sure, hay-muncher,” Ashni said as she picked up a sword from one of the fallen cultists and started attacking the remaining ones with it, “How did these guys capture you? Even you should be able to deal with these schmucks.”

            “Well, first of all, they ambushed me, birdbrain,” Sorine answered, “They were waiting for me at a clearing in the forest I like going through. To be honest, I thought you told them, until you barged in here, lighting blazing like an idiot.”

            “You thought I sold you out?” asked Ashni, “I’m not that much of an asshole.”

            “Well, the last thing you said to me before leaving was ‘I hope you drown to death in lava’. You were a logical conclusion as to who would know where I was and would be willing to tell.”

            “You were found by this weird guy who's into collecting things,” explained Ashni, “And he sold your location to these guys. Honestly, he probably would have kept you to himself if he thought he could. Unlike this cult though, he was smart enough to know you can’t imprison a vessel. Still, even if they ambushed you, it seems like you could have taken these guys.”

            As the falcon said that, smoke started to pour in through the windows and out from strange containers around the warehouse. The smoke settled and began to coalesce into shapes. One of the cultists laying on the ground began to laugh, “The champions of corruption return. Come, vessels, meet your future kin-in-arms.”

            “I don’t have arms,” pointed out Sorine as she stomped on the cultist’s throat.

            “What are those?” Ashni asked, stepping back from the rising figures of smoke.

            “The Cult of Corruption believes that their mission is to prepare the world for the apocalypse by gathering champions of evil. They corrupt magical beasts and turn them into monsters. I was the first vessel they managed to seize, but they’ve turned plenty of unicorns and feyhounds, turning them into nightmares and hellhounds. They were what allowed the cult to capture me. If you hadn’t arrived, I’d have been turned into their strongest nightmare yet. I imagine they’d try to turn you into some kind of bird-monster.”

            The smoke finished forming. Dozens of stallions and wolves made of smokeand fire advanced, the stone searing underneath their feet. If these were made out of lesser magical beasts, Ashni certainly did not want to see what a vessel looked like when corrupted.

            The herd of nightmares screamed and charged at Sorine while the hellhounds howled and raced after Ashni. The Vessel of Lightening grew wings and desperately flapped away. When she had been an ordinary falcon, she’d belonged to a hunter. She’d loyally killed prey for him, but his hunting dogs had always had a hard time telling her apart from the birds they were supposed to rip to pieces. So she had reason to not like dogs.

            “Ha!” crowed Ashni, “What’s wrong, you filthy, feces-eating, flea-ridden, saliva spreading, stupidly-smiling-at-all-times idiots? Can’t fly?”

            The hellhounds opened up their jaws and bunched their shoulders. They started spewing fireballs up through the air at the lighting vessel. “Ah, gross!” she exclaimed, shifting into a full falcon form to dodge better. She flicked her tail feathers at one of the hellhounds and a lightning bolt arced out, striking the monstrous dog. It shook its head and seemed angry, but didn’t go down like the cultists.

            “Well crap,” said Ashni.

            Meanwhile, Sorine had an equally tough time with the nightmares. They swarmed around her, kicking and biting. She could endure their attacks, but they were wearing her down. The Vessel of Thunder struck her hooves against the ground, producing another surge of sound. It seemed to irritate the nightmares and distract them, but not seriously harm them. The thunder vessel managed to catch one of the demonic creatures with her back hooves, and it dissolved away into dark mist.

            Sorine struck out with her head, knocking aside nightmares. She rushed forward and trampled over the hellhounds. Ashni landed on Sorine’s back, turning back into a human. She hurled lightning left and right at the pursuing wave of monsters.

            The mare ran over to the door and kicked it with all she had. It remained closed, and a menacing red shimmer ran across it. “It’s enchanted,” Sorine said, “No escaping that way.”

            “Which means we’re stuck here, since you’re too useless to fly,” said Ashni.

            “And because you’re too weak to carry me, even if I was in human form,” responded the Vessel of Thunder, “But you can still escape. At least now I know that you didn’t betray me.”

            Sorine raced along the edge of the warehouse, leaping over a hellhound. She was faster than any of their pursuers, but stuck in a confined space and vastly outnumbered. “Please do me a favor and shut up,” said Ashni, “If I left you now, I’d have wasted all the effort I put in to find you, and I’d still have to deal with you as a monster. Plus, the only way any of them are corrupting you is over my dead body. Or, my also corrupted body I guess.”

            “You always have been stubborn,” said Sorine, but Ashni didn’t miss the relief in her echoing words. She didn’t want to be left.

            The falcon shot a bolt of lightning at a leaping hellhound, sending it tumbling back down to the ground. “I think…” she began, wrinkling her nose as if she didn’t like the taste of the words, “I think you know there’s only way we get out of this.”

            “But you made it very clear the last time we talked, you never wanted to call on Jaswinder again,” said Sorine.

            “I know, but last time we talked I didn’t think we’d be in this situation,” yelled Ashni. After a moment, she added, “And I was being kind of an asshole to you. I’ll talk to you more about it if we don’t die, but if we do, or we get corrupted, I want you to know I’m sorry!”

            “That’s all you had to say,” commented Sorine. After a moment of Ashni glaring at her she added, with a smirk in her thundering magic voice, “I’m sorry too.”

            Hasher sat in his study, staring at the statue of the horse next to the statue of the falcon. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that a vessel had been in his room, talking to him. In some of the stories they were capable of taking human form, and the woman had certainly been odd, but he had expected some kind of supernatural indicator besides an unusual appearance.

            Suddenly, the gemstones in both the statues started to glow brighter. Cracks spread across the figurines and they split apart, stone fragments swirling around each other as if caught in a strong wind. Then the two statues combined and reformed as something else.

            Out of his peripheral vision, Hasher saw a brilliant burst of light come in through his window. Even not staring at it directly, the shape of the radiant lightning bolt was seared into his eyes. He stared out of his window, before a bone-shaking BOOM sounded, seeming to shake the very foundation of the tower.

            Outside, the storm raged and the clouds rumbled, making clear they were not yet done. Hasher stared at the statue and the new shape it had taken.

            A bolt of divine power struck down from the sky, disintegrating the stone of the warehouse’s roof and striking the horse and the falcon. The nightmares and hellhounds screamed as they were blinded by the light and deafened by the following boom of thunder. The boards over the windows were shattered by the force of the sound, letting in the wind and rain.

            When the smoke and the vision of the monsters cleared, something new stood in the center of a burned patch of stone. Two eyes of brilliant blue-white gleamed against a long, dark gray face. Ebony hooves slowly paced forward, each step echoing like thunder. Two wings the same radiant lightning color as the falcon’s stretched slightly and adjusted, connected to the mare’s broad shoulders. Where the falcon’s wings met the horse’s body, long crackling channels spread out across the soft dark gray coat. The vessel's tail swished, and a vicious wind ripped through the building.

            The being spread her wings wide, charging the air around her with power, and struck one of her hooves against the stone, creating another booming wave of thunder. She was Jaswinder, Pegasus of Dark Skies, Living Union of The Tempest, Vessel of Storm.

            In a voice that both crackled with raw passion and echoed with deep and ancient strength, she said, “I would suggest that you run now.”

            Unfortunately for them, the infernal monsters did not heed the sage advice. The hellhounds and nightmares rushed at the storm vessel. Jaswinder snapped her wings forward and a rush of wind manifested, slamming into the approaching tide of demons and knocking them into each other. Jaswinder sprang up into the air, moving with surprising grace despite her bulk. She stopped flapping her wings, hanging for a moment suspended in air, before ducking her wings in and hurtling down, hooves first. She left a gleaming trail as she dove and when her hooves struck the ground they released a surge of energy.

            Divine electricity coursed through the nightmares and hellhounds, and they dissolved away into nothing but ash and dark mist. Those that remained backed off at the rolling wave of sound that followed. They turned and fled, turning into smoke and floating out through the windows.

            Jaswinder snorted and turned her back to the door of the warehouse. She lifted up her back legs and kicked, lightning coursing along hooves black as the darkest clouds. The doors blew open, and the pegasus calmly trotted out of the warehouse. She flapped her wings and flew upward, the storm’s winds dancing around her.

            A couple hours later, when the rain started to ease off and the lightning had stopped, the Vessel of Storm landed on a hillside outside the city. With a rush of wind, the living union separated back into a pale woman in a white dress with falcon’s claws, and a tall dark gray mare.

            “Oh, I forgot how fun that was,” said Ashni, stretching out her arms to let the rain fall on her. When they called upon Jaswinder, the minds of the two vessels were bound together, each entirely aware of every thought the other had. The lack of privacy was why the falcon had decided to never do it again years ago, but perhaps she hadn’t appreciated how exhilarating the thrill of wielding the storm’s might was.

            “I never really appreciate flight until I have it myself,” Sorine commented.

            The falcon wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck, Sorine leaned down and rested her head on Ashni’s back. There were a thousand apologies for a thousand things that Ashni could think up, but after sharing a mind, Sorine already knew every one, and Ashni knew all of hers in turn. Each was simply glad to have her friend back.

            “What do we do next?” Sorine asked.

            “Well, that was the Cult of Corruption’s main base in this city, but I know they’ve got others,” Ashni said, “Do you want to go stomp on some cultists? I’ll give you sugarcubes.”

            “Don’t patronize me. But I do want those sugarcubes. Lead on, birdbrain.”

            “No problem, haymuncher.”