Sworded Affair

Chapter 25: Bird is the Word

Emma exulted as the pigeon she was piloting took off, circling the outer barrier of the Dungeon at a slow, level heading, before coming back to land down where she started.

[20 EXP gained.]

It might not look like much, but even mastering the basics of flight had taken Emma most of two days, interspersed with a night’s rest inside her room in the Dungeon. All told, the process had involved plenty of observation, trial and error to learn the correct motions of the wings, how to move them fast enough to fly but not so fast it injured the bird, and so on. Hardest of all had been sticking the landing correctly; a dozen pigeons had bravely given their lives before Emma figured out the correct approach, allowing her to shed enough velocity to safely come to a dead stop (pun intended). At last though, her hard work had paid off and she was finally ready to fly home.

It’s funny, Emma thought as she took off once more, this time heading east for a long overdue family reunion. I never had this much trouble learning how to fight; I thought the sword was supposed to take years of training to even become competent with it?

[It does; but you have the benefit of your predecessors for that. Many took up the sword over their lifetime, and some of that knowledge and instinct remains ingrained in the armor to this day, long after their passing. None of them were birds though; so even with the instincts of the sparrow to leverage thanks to Oversoul, you were still starting mostly from scratch for this.]

The System is a lot more complicated than I thought. Emma noted as she rose above the treeline, marveling at the close up view of the world below; a completely different experience from that of commercial aviation, where planes rarely ventured beneath the clouds other than for take off and landing.

Emma’s musings on the nature of the System aside, the flight itself proved fairly uneventful. It was still too early in the year (not to mention too wet and miserable) for hunters to be out shooting pigeons, whilst most local birds of prey weren’t that large themselves and preferred to target smaller, lower risk prey such as finches, sparrows and tits (the bird, to be clear). This, combined with the lack of planes in the air to ingest unsuspecting birds into their engines, meant that the sky was entirely clear of hazards for once. The ground, on the other hand?

“This is going to be a running theme, isn’t it?” Emma sighed as she materialized once more, scooping up the fat orange cat chewing contentedly on the very dead pigeon she’d been traveling in just moments ago.

[Fun fact: predation by domestic cats is one of the leading causes of death for birds in the developed world.]

“He pounced on me the moment we landed, no need to rub it in,” Emma protested as she scratched the tabby cat behind his ears, drawing an approving purr from the feline offender. “He doesn’t even look that stealthy either; but I didn’t hear a single step until the teeth were already sinking in.”

[Now you know why ‘with catlike tread’ is an old expression, and it's not just because of The Pirates of Penzance.]

“Next time, I’ll stop in a tree or something, and climb down from there.” Emma decided, by now starting to realize why birds were usually so skittish. Moving to put the cat down, she found that more difficult than expected as the feline curled up around her arms, entirely unwilling to leave. Surprisingly, Emma’s strength proved insufficient to pry him loose, at least not without causing considerable harm in the process.

[Cat - Level 1]

“Really? How’d a cat become strong enough to warrant a level?”

[Strange things can happen in a magical world.]

“Well, guess I have a cat now.” Emma relented as she settled in to walk the final stretch, the cat cradled comfortably in her arms.

Even taking into account that unexpected encounter, Emma’s journey home remained largely on track. She had ended her flight at the boundary where the woods gave way to utter devastation; having destroyed every house but her own, something that remained unexplained though she strongly suspected magical involvement. A quiet walk through empty suburbs followed, Emma proceeding with no particular urgency until her house finally became visible in the distance. As expected, she saw her Dad’s silver Mercedes parked by the front of the garage (nobody parked inside those, universally preferring to use the interior for extra storage space to supplement what was available in England’s cramped houses). What she didn’t expect to see were sandbags encircling the house, nor what looked like the beginnings of entrenchment, fresh dirt piled in heaps by the partially dug fortifications. There was also the slight issue of the sole name tag to be visible even from a considerable distance.

[Bear - Level 3]

“It’s the bear from the cabin, isn’t it?” Emma facepalmed, drawing a meow of protest as her feline passenger was jostled by the motion. “Wasn’t it Level 1 last time? Why is there even a bear here?”

[Spacetime anomalies are a rare but possible consequence where large movements of mana are involved.]

Filing that tidbit away for later, Emma frowned; whilst carrying a cat was no hardship in peacetime, she really wanted her hands free in case the bear proved hostile in this second encounter.

[ERROR: Insufficient anima synchronization.]

Unfortunately, her attempt to stuff the cat in her inventory failed, the feline not budging in the slightest nor indicating any awareness of her attempt.

“Synchronization?” Emma tilted her head. “In that case, maybe this will work.”

Using her Oversoul, she quickly possessed the cat, falling to the pavement in a heap as she failed to find the feline talent for always landing on her feet.

Place Cat in my Inventory, Emma ordered the System, with her still in the driver’s seat. For a moment, the world shuddered, and she dared to hope it would work; then there was an almighty crash as the sky vanished in an array of flashing lights.

[Divide By Zero Error encountered.

You have sustained severe damage!

Anima: 100/300

5 EXP gained for trying to be clever.

DON’T DO THAT AGAIN.]

Her cat was now hissing in displeasure; understandably, given that sixty pounds of armor had just landed on him as Emma emerged from Oversoul, badly charred.