Fleeing from the fight

Her heart fell as she saw who had sliced her wingtip off.  Daryush hovered above her, a cruel smile on his face.    

     She barely recovered from the fall.  She heard the laughter of the two Ahriman behind her as she only just kept herself from touching the volatile waters of the English Channel.  She reached land twenty minutes later. 

     She flounced onto the beach.  This was not her day.  She called out to her people.  None heard her. 

     The storm was abating in this area of the world.  She knew she was in France.  It was the closest country to England after all.  The closest safe home for her was in Paris. 

     She lifted her injured wing assessing the damage with her hand.  A cry of pain bubbled into her throat.  The tip of her wing had been removed cleanly and the blood only coagulated around the tip of the wing.  The damage was not as bad as she supposed.   She let go of her wing.  She needed to move from the beach.

Talking to Daryush

     She lifted her head to the sky as she heard the first of the bombers fly overhead.  She looked down to see the Ahriman look directly at her. 

     Irti jumped into the air.  Her black wings unfurled spanning their full Twelve-foot length.  They beat a couple of times, hovering over the alleyway.  She swooped down, diving at the man.

     He gazed at her.  “Irti, we should talk first.”  He lifted his wings and flapped a couple of times to gain altitude.

     “My claws are not out yet.”  Irti responded.  She slowed her descent to let him come close to her.

     He smiled at her, “I can see that.”

     “We can talk over the channel, and get away from the humans,” Irti suggested. She waited patiently for yet another response.

     He smiled at her once again; at one time she could read his looks.  “Okay, but . . . ”

     “No buts . . . You have no idea what will be those humans’ fates.  And we are charged with no interferences.  I would like an explanation.”  She said sweetly. 

     “That I will give to you.”  He flew by her letting a white wing brush her own. 

     She followed.  This was the first time in years that she had seen him.  She had fought and maimed many of his kind over that time.  But him, he was the leader, a person of interest to her council. 

     She watched him flying straight east of the city toward the English Channel.  She was thinking about the council of elders, with judgment of the most important of her kind.  She knew she would be omitting from her report that she talked to Daryush Hatef.

Radiating Power

     The new Ahriman looked down at her, radiating power.    She felt even more naked under his lustful gaze. Her dress was already open in the back to accommodate her wings, and now it was split down the front.  She felt ashamed of the stirrings of desire that she felt while he looked at her.  She knew then that she would give herself to him, but she also knew it would not be true love, just her following her latent desire.

     That was how she met Daryush, the leader of the Ahriman.