Wind howled, and heavy rain beat down on the sprawling ruins. The river at the edge of the dilapidated city overflowed, it had been raining so hard for so many days.
“Does it normally get like this?” Signafir, a young, spotted white kiji asked. Under the pouring rain, her sleek fur looked all the shinier, despite the dim lighting filtering through the dark sky.
“Maybe once every few years,” Lanritoiri answered. He was much, much larger, and a fair deal older, uniquely marked by a twisting coat of gold and black. “But it’s this city that concerns me. I know it was whole just last year, and this level of decay doesn’t feel right…”
“You mean all the buildings were intact? People lived here?” Signafir’s ears perked forward.
“Yes.” Lanritoiri turned from his companion, and with one powerful leap, brought himself atop the mostly stable remains of a rooftop. He squinted through the haze of the rain as he scanned the dead city for any sign of what caused its collapse, and briefly, he thought he caught sight of drifting, formless colors.
Signafir sniffed the air, and then sneezed, and wrinkled her nose. Her whisker tips twitched. “Hey, Lan, I think someone else is here.”
“A human?” Lanritoiri asked, hopping back to the ground.
“No, another kijikaiaku, I think.”
“You would think correctly,” a new voice came from around the obstructed crossroads ahead. A long, somewhat short, bright yellow kiji came into view, and paused to stand before them. Around them floated three red flames that seemed to drift idly of their own accord, like a lazy trio in orbit. “My name is Sol,” the newcomer said by way of introduction.
“Signafir,” the youngest introduced herself.
“And Lanritoiri.” The big kiji’s ears flicked back, then forward, alert. “Do you know what occurred here?”
Sol shook their head, and casually approached. “Not for certain, but Gaia has warned of impending doom, should our kind stand idle. There have been reports from others that legends of old seem to have come to life, and are causing all kinds of trouble just by existing in any given area. Creatures and people, dying suddenly, or getting sick with no known cause, or crops failing and once-flourishing farms becoming unfertile.”
Lanritoiri’s long, thick tail swayed thoughtfully side to side. “You think what happened to this city was caused by one of these living legends?”
“I’m most certain. This looks like a battle tore through here, and left no survivors.” Sol tilted their head at seeing the confused looks on the others’ faces. “You must not have seen the graves yet.”
Signafir swallowed. “Th-the g-g-graves?”
“Yes. Though, it seems many managed to evacuate. It might be prudent to track them down and try to gather more information.”
“Y-you mean… talk… to non-kiji? To humans, or elves?”
“Not exactly. But we can eavesdrop, or seek out one of the other races’ mages who can see us.”
Lanritoiri nodded. “I have a harder time staying undetected, so I will linger behind once we find these survivors. Where do you think they headed? The city to the west, or to the north of here?”
“Both, probably, to better manage any refugees.” Seeing both younger kiji look contemplative, Sol continued, “Why don’t we try the western city first?”
“Agreed,” Lanritoiri said.
Signafir also nodded her agreement.
The three of them headed out of town at a steady trot, though Lanritoiri had to go a little slower since he had the greatest stride. They were making excellent time, Lanritoiri thought to himself.
They made it roughly halfway before sunup.
A flock of crows burst from the treeline off the beaten path, cawing and crowing their surprise and distress. The trio of kiji paused in their tracks, and turned to face the ruckus, and only Signafir still had her eyes on the sky when the thing shambled out from the trees.
Lanritoiri and Sol lowered their heads, lips drawing back in a snarl as they each prepared to defend from or attack the creature.
It was tall, and deformed, a little hard to see in the dark night, but whatever it was was no longer alive. Sol could make out a pair of antlers on its head, one of them broken at the middle, but all of them heard its raspy, wheezing cry as it neared.
Signafir yipped and darted behind her large friend. “W-what is that?!”
“Something I’d hoped I’d never see again. An undead,” Sol said with disgust. “These ‘living legends’... There must be one nearby.”
The undead buck continued its slow shambling towards the trio, though whether there was purpose in its stumbling steps, none could say.
“But before we try to hunt it down, I will deal with this!” Sol took several steps towards the buck, and opened their maw. Flames sparked within, and suddenly a gout of fire spewed forth and engulfed the suffering creature. Rotting flesh and bone quickly burned and melted under the intense heat, and the dying buck squealed and yelled as it neared the end of its un-life.
A few more seconds passed, Lanritoiri having turned and placed his paws gently but firmly around Signafir’s eyes and ears, and then it was over. The noise stopped. Seeing the poor creature turned to ash, he lowered his paws, and Signafir blinked up at him, her ears pulled back and her eyes wide.
With no small amount of disgust, Sol huffed, and said, “Let’s go hunting. Unless the two of you still want to gather intel?”
“Signafir’s not yet trained in battle,” Lanritoiri said quietly.
Grumbling a little to themselves, Sol finally nodded. “Very well. We should protect our young like any other creature, shouldn’t we? Move on to the city, learn all you can from a local mage, and then find me at the south-west meadows beyond the woods.”
“You sense something that far out?”
“I have a hunch that’s where one of our enemies are.”
Lanritoiri nodded slowly. “Alright. Then take care; we will meet up with you as soon as we can.”
Together with Signafir, they said their farewells, and hurried on without Sol.
Glaring into the treeline, Sol pressed on alone.