Shift

A few hours later

Seth was strapped to the back of his horse, still unconscious, as the group started on their way back to the Academy. Alesha had tried mentally prodding Rogork for clues (well, at least that's what she hoped she was doing), but the System was still being unresponsive. At least it had given her a semi-response when she needed it earlier, though. Sighing, Alesha rested her head against the back of the Undead Werewolf she was riding. She was too mentally worn out to care about the uncomfortably itchy fur at the moment.

Thinking back to the battle, Alesha was disappointed. What had she even accomplished? All she'd really ended up doing was distracting the Banshee just long enough for Flynn's … black smoky skeleton thing to make a move. 

"Ey, Flynn," Alesha called.

"Yeah?"

"What was that thing anyway? The thing that killed the Banshee. It was yours, right? Part of your Undead Squad, I think you called it?"

"Yep! That is my pride and joy, a Nether Wraith. They're picky creatures. Anyway, it's the strongest of my Squad, able to fight effectively against most creatures. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but it's pretty rare for a student to have one. I only got it because my family won a chance to have me meet it. Then it liked me, I guess." He smiled broadly, his countenance seeming to shine from within.

"Haha, well good job. I would have died without it. Seriously, I got scratched by it twice. I had no idea Banshees had soul poison or whatever on their claws."

Flynn jerked on the reins of his horse and it came to a stop. His whole body was rigid. "What… did you just say?"

"That I almost died without your help? Or was it the thing about soul poison?"

"Oh my heavens," Flynn whispered, looking over as the Undead Werewolf stopped, leaving the two of them nearly eye-to-eye. "Alesha, you are one lucky demoness."

His face even paler than normal, he met her gaze with a serious expression. "We didn't come across a Banshee. We survived an encounter with a Banshee Queen. I don't know why it was in Thulgood's basement but this is a much bigger deal than we thought."

Flynn reached over and touched the side of Alesha's face. "I am so freaking glad that you're okay. If I had recovered slower or things had played out any differently… oh my word that could have been bad."

Taken aback by the shift in mood and his sudden contact, Alesha was at a loss for words. "Well, uh, it's all thanks to you. You and your Nether Wraith, I guess. Thank you."

"Yo, lovebirds!" Delilah called back at them, "What's the holdup? We gotta get back by dinner!"

Flynn smiled at Alesha, winked, then urged his horse into a quick trot to catch up with Delilah and update her as to what he'd discovered. 

As they chatted ahead of her, Alesha smiled at their friendship, wondering why in the hell Flynn seemed to be infatuated with her instead of Delilah. He and Lily got along so well, and Alesha wouldn't be around for much longer anyways. Why all the flirtatious behavior? It just didn't make sense. 

----

Somewhere on a distant planet

Villainous thoughts flowing through its deceptively intelligent tiny brain, an unusual goshawk screeched as it circled above the tiny village below. It had four beady yellow eyes, a white "mask" with twin red "horn" feathers, deep charcoal body feathers and a solid gray underbelly. Its tailfeather tips were white fading into maroon. Unlike regular goshawks, whose feathers alternated light and dark in stripes in a kind of camouflage, this one's coloration was unnaturally solid. 

Screeching loudly, the goshawk went into a dive. He had decided on what to do in this village!

Orochi (for that was what the goshawk was called) narrowed his eyes and… snap! With a flourish, he snatched the ladies' undergarments from the clothesline. He flew around until he found a woman chasing after her two children. 

If a goshawk could grin, he would be grinning right now.

He dove again. This time, he deposited the undergarments right onto the woman's face. He then nipped at one of the children, drawing blood from the nape of the neck, and grabbed at the other's clothes with his claws. He flapped hard, trying to lift the child. Instead, he ended up looking rather stupid. After all, a goshawk has far too little mass to lift a 5-year-old child off the ground. He did manage to tear some serious gashes in the kid's clothes, though.

By now, the woman had gotten the undergarments off her face and was screaming in an unintelligible language at the bird. She picked up a rock and threw it, missing wildly.

The mischievous bird screeched in laughter and flew away.

After several miles of flight, Orochi came to a cave in a mountain. He flew inside.

Reverting to his natural form, Orochi stalked over to a large pile of pillows, his claws clacking against the stone with satisfying clicks. His secondary arms hung slightly bent by his sides, too short and weak to aid in the act of walking, and his thick, powerful tail swung gently to echo his swaying stride. A pair of leathery wings bounced gently with each step. He blinked and yawned, his Doberman-shaped head revealing powerful teeth and a long, prehensile tongue as he did. His long ears flicked, golden earrings clinking gently against one another.

He had completed yet another wonderful day of making chaos for the inhabitants of this little world. 

Curling up amongst his pillows, Orochi the dragon fell asleep.