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Solra gritted his teeth as he walked through the tunnels at a brisk pace, ignoring the aches coming from his joints. He wasn’t worried about leaving the cocoon room—the newly hatched dwarf was the only archling expected to appear that evening. What he was more worried about was the fact that Pyre had blatantly tried to usurp his authority. Who else would dare order someone to kidnap one of his most trusted subordinates in his presence?
Solra’s right leg throbbed as his cane was dragged along the floor, leaving a white line on the tiles, but it didn’t bother him as he increased his speed. During the fight against the council, he had been injured by Sariel, who used an orb to unleash a strange power, while escaping from the capital. No matter how many kindness angels he found, none of them were able to remove his limp. There had been one night where he was in absolute agony because of his leg that he had it cut off and regrown, but even that didn’t cure him, only bringing him temporary relief.
Faint screams entered Solra’s ears, letting the old archangel know he was approaching the prison where Pyre would be waiting. Grinding sounds came from Solra’s teeth as his hands clenched into fists. His brow furrowed as he looked up just in time to see a harpy fly past his head, holding onto a yelling goblin. His face slackened as his mouth fell open, his fist relaxing and uncurling. Solra remained motionless as the harpy blinked and said, “Commander,” before continuing her flight with the hapless goblin. What exactly was Pyre trying to do?
His brow furrowed as he brought his cane to his side and leaned against it. The outrage in his chest had disappeared after hearing the harpy’s greeting. Clearly, there was still some semblance of respect for him remaining. But what had the dwarf meant by the words impossible task when answering his question about being a bodyguard? Solra’s lips pressed into a frown. Perhaps he was being too hasty in seeking answers from Pyre. What was he going to do if Palan was there? An archdemon whose powers he couldn’t suppress was a major problem for him. The only solution he had at the moment was to use an overwhelming amount of archlings to counter him. Perhaps it may be a bit crude, but sometimes, the simplest methods were the best. At that moment, he regretted sending Ivan and Mathias to chase after that harpy.
“Commander!” a voice said. Solra turned towards the side, facing a tunnel that led towards the hall he was in. A lizardman with black skin was pressing herself against the wall of the passage, her gaze glued to the ceiling. “Is she gone?”
“Is who gone?” Solra asked and frowned. The lizardman took a tentative step out of the tunnel and looked both ways before crossing, arriving at Solra’s side.
“The harpy,” she said and crouched behind him, still staring at the ceiling. Solra followed her gaze. There were passageways in the ceiling of this particular hall that the harpies often used to traverse. He took a moment to admire the dwarves’ handiwork that helped prevent traffic in the hall from congesting.
“Why are you so frightened of a harpy?” Solra asked and narrowed his eyes at the lizardman. He could tell by the shapes of her scales that she was a female. Logically speaking, harpies only targeted males.
The lizardman gulped. “It’s the harpies’ mating season,” she said. Her body flinched and froze at the sound of flapping wings, but no harpy appeared. “I heard there are some special harpies that don’t care if their mates are female. I … I have a mate that I must remain loyal to. We just exchanged our vows a week ago, but we haven’t done anything yet. I don’t want to disgrace him by being dirtied by a harpy.”
“You must be kidding me,” Solra said as his grip on his cane loosened. Was this a misunderstanding on his part? He frowned as he tried to recall the previous mating frenzies the harpies had. The harpies were a bit bold when it came to choosing their mates, and it wasn’t unreasonable to say that the harpies who subdued the more difficult targets held a higher rank in their society. Was it possible that his personal aide was kidnapped because a harpy wanted bragging rights? Nothing like that had ever happened before. Perhaps Cory didn’t have as large of a presence as the previous matriarchs’.
“I’m not kidding,” the lizardman said and grasped the hem of Solra’s robe. “My chastity is at stake here. I beseech you, please help me.”
Before Solra could say anything, a harpy flew into the hall. “Ah! Found you,” she said and hovered over the duo. Her expression froze when she saw Solra. “I greet the commander.” The harpy saluted with one wing and promptly fell out of the air, landing on her feet behind the lizardman.
“Begone, perverted creature!” the lizardman shouted as she stole Solra’s cane and brandished it at the harpy.
“Stop!” Solra said before the two halflings could engage in combat. He snatched his cane back from the black lizardman and snorted, lightly smacking her wrist. His gaze landed on the harpy. She smiled at him and took a few steps back, her feathers rustling. She was about to fly away when Solra asked, “What is the meaning of this?”
“Err. The meaning of what?” the harpy asked and tilted her head to the side. She continued shuffling her feet backwards.
“Why are you trying to abduct this lizardman?” Solra asked.
The harpy blinked. “Because she can read?”
“Huh?” Solra and the lizardman asked at the same time.
“You’re … not trying to mate with me?” the lizardman asked and furrowed her brow. A strange look appeared on her scaled face.
“What?” the harpy asked, her nose wrinkling. “Ew. No. What the eggshells? Why in the world would I want to do that? Unless you have a….” The harpy lowered her head and stared at the lizardman’s crotch. She clicked her tongue. “Always hard to tell with lizardmen—retractable ding-dongs and whatnot.”
Solra pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean by she can read?” he asked, hiding the blushing lizardman behind his back.
“Well,” the harpy said and began preening herself. “Well, well, well. There are these things called letters and when you rearrange them in a certain way, they produce these bigger things called words. If you rearrange words in a certain way, they produce these even bigger things called sentences. And if you rearrange sentences in a certain way, they produce these even bigger than sentences things called paragraphs. Not everyone is capable of deciphering a paragraph, but she is.” The harpy nodded and folded her wings against her body while puffing her chest out.
Solra sighed. Why couldn’t this harpy have been a dwarf? “And why does it matter if she can decipher a paragraph?” he asked, stretching his lips into a smile.
The harpy blinked twice. “Well, that’s because I can’t,” she said. “And according to the harbinger, it is unacceptable for us to not be able to do things that others can, except when it involves opposable thumbs because we lack arms.”
“According to the what?” Solra asked and raised an eyebrow. “The harpies are going around kidnapping people to learn?”
“The harbinger,” the harpy said and furrowed her brow. “We’re going around kidnapping people because of the harbinger. The harbinger wants us to learn how to read, so that’s what we’re going to do.”
“I think I understand,” Solra said and rubbed his temples. “You may leave.”
“Can … can I take her with me?” the harpy asked, gesturing towards the lizardman.
“No.”
The harpy pouted. “Fine,” she said and wrinkled her nose before flying away.