¡°¡Hey...Ray-Ray. Wh-where are we? D-did we just enter the realm of Valhalla? L-look at all these flowers made of ruby gemstones!¡±
¡°No. Those are Poppies, so I''m pretty sure we''re still in Flanders, Belgium. I wonder if we''re even close to returning to the battlefield in Passchendaele."
Raymond Collishaw tried to walk on his two feet, but even with a tree branch he broke off to use as a walking stick his gait was rather clumsy. He felt guilty in having to lean all of his weight onto the Canadian Witch who was really no older than 18. However, his leg was broken and moving was almost unbearable without help. He had to use his scarf to tie up two pieces of cork bark he ripped from a tree in a wine field. The Canadian felt guilty, for wrecking private property and having to steal scraps of food from farmers, but his body got the best of him in order to survive.
He glanced at his bandaged leg. It''s been a few days since he tied it, the blood that drenched through his flight scarf was now caked in both mud and his blood. It looked awful, so he tried not to look at it.
At the same time, he kept his wandering eyes on the horizon, not on his partner''s legs. The Canadian Witch''s magical dress made of raven feathers was torn up, exposing her mid riff that had this killer looking gash swiped across her stomach. It looked like some kind of giant prayer mantis got a good slice into her flesh.
Also, the skirt of her black feathered gown was torn up. It was mostly because she offered them as bandages to tie up Raymond Collishaw''s cracked head and creating a makeshift sling for his one wounded arm. It first started with 2 inch wide strips to stop his bleeding, but every nice whenever he passed out she would secretly change most of his bandages to prevent infection.
Thus, her calves covered in mud, blood, and cuts from shrubberies painted her once fine legs from toe to above the knee. Normally, she would complain of the condition, but today she rather shut up and carry a grown man on her shoulder.
"...Ray-Ray. It''s been days since we last saw anyone from the Allied Forces. Are you sure we''re going the right direction."
"No. The map got burnted up when Black Maria engine''s spark and exploded. I only have this compass, which now I''m starting to believe is broken as the needle hasn''t moved for three days no matter where I turned. I don''t want to say we''re lost to cause a panic but....... yeah. We''re lost."
"...It''s fine... so long as I''m with you."
"Sorry? Did you say something, Sleipnir? You''re mumbling."
"Just keep using my body as your crutch. But you can''t take advantage of me?."
"...Sleipnir."
"Joke joke...I heard laughter can be a medicine to dull the pain... I guess I need to work on my sense of humor."
The Canadian Witch bit her lip, hiding the fact she hadn''t slept in the last two nights. Being away from the nearest Allied base or trench, no one was sure if they were behind enemy lines or even close to a neutral zone on this battlefield. They dare not come close to villages, lest they take the chance of Imperial German patrols capturing them. They would often camp at the edge of a quiet farm, either in a stable or under the family oak tree to rest up before walking on.
Even if they agreed to take turns on watch, the Witch would go overtime and let Raymond Collishaw sleep a little longer. Often times, throughout the entire night. So it would make sense why she had bags under her eyes that struggle to just keep open like a flickering lightbulb.
"...Ray-Ray. You''re hands are cold... if only I have some strength left in my mana pool, I might be able to use a low setting of Burning Hands to keep you warm."
"Don''t push yourself, Sleipnir. If I hadn''t figure out that magic is fueled by your life force, I wouldn''t have let you use your spells to cook wild game and eggs every time. If you keep exhausting your energy like that, you might die."
"... Ah. How romantic to fall into my darling''s arm as I sacrificed myself for my lover''s survival. The tale of a devoting housewife. Oh-ho-ho."
"Please... don''t joke."
"Yes, yes, yes. I''m sorry."
Raymond Collishaw didn''t want to rely on the Canadian Witch anymore as a crutch. As a man, he should be bold and brace against the pain in his broken shin and walk on with just his tree branch as a walking staff. No good, without even an injection of a proper sedative, the lightning bolt like pain would keep stabbing into his nervous system like an ice pick.
Realizing how useless he was, he decided against struggling with his inner ego. Or else the more he stumbled, he''ll force both the Canadian Witch and himself to go tumbling down the steep hill.
And into a large field of bright red Poppies that waved at them in silence.
¡°So this is the legendary Flander¡¯s Fields.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not exactly legendary. I don''t know if there''s any other folklore behind the origin of these flowers in Belgium.¡±
¡°But it was written in that book we found, no? The one that was half buried in mud back in the empty Trench we stumbled into. At first, when you read it to me the content made no sense... but now that I''ve seen such a field, I am beginning to piece the puzzles the author has left behind for us..."
"Hmm. Regardless if I a Pilot, I have too many friends in both the Royal Navy and in the Trenches who have been through h*ll... Often times, they don''t get to come back so conveniently for another drink at... I miss them, every now and then."
"These Poppies are beautiful in their own haunting way... so much, that it hurts my heart every time I look... yet I can''t help but feel a sense of hope for the future that these flowers will bring to us."
¡°Like his book said: each and every one of these Poppies has a soldier buried under them. Their blood fills the earth, feeds the soil, and their hearts grow into the core of these flowers in the field of Flanders. I heard, they used to be white before the First Great War began."
"If that fact was true, Ray-Ray, then even a magician like myself would dread about how many souls would it be necessary to change the natural chroma of a plant like this into such a vivid crimson... the numbers frighten me."
The Canadian Witch and the Canadian Pilot watched over the Poppy fields. The flowers swayed quietly to the breeze of the winter, their stems and leaves already forming a thin cover of frost from the mildew. And they watched over them, like parents over their child playing in the gardens.
Unable to continue on their path, they decided to stop for a short. They had been walking for the past five days almost non-stop, marching for hours down roads, undiscovered paths, and routes that steered clear from possible German detection. To take a break, was necessary or else the muscle fiber in their legs would snap.
Raymond Collishaw bit his lip as he put the tree branch to his side. The dull pain in his shoulder hurt, it was hard to lift any higher than his collar bone. Sitting down next to him was the Canadian Witch who lost part of her skirt. Rather, she didn''t sit, she just up and plopped down next to him. Her legs had passed out in the last minute, making them cramp across the front and back and in her toes.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The girl endured, only able to swallow her saliva as her own source of fluid intake to reduce the muscle contractions in her legs. As if to hide her pain, she tucked them close to her body, acting like she was on a regular Sunday outing for a picnic... albeit the lip biting.
¡°Hey Ray-Ray¡Do you think us Witches will be remembered? For what we''ve done for the war?¡±
¡°What are you saying? Magic or not, you¡¯re soldiers too. Many of your sisters are helping the troops in the trenches, and you¡¯re with me fighting Magicians in the sky. I don''t understand why won''t you receive any recognition for your services?"
"We Witches and Wizards don''t exist, remember? Not in your modern society. We are merely figments of your imagination that creep under your own shadow, just so we can live a peaceful life pursuing the art of magic without prejudice... We''re kind of like super secret spies. Our nation will deny our existence, so why make a funeral ceremony for those who ''aren''t real''?"
"But... that wouldn''t be fair. I mean, about one year ago I was attending the funeral service of lads I met during my training on the HMS Niobe. They were all serving the HMHS Britannic when it was torpedoed off the coast of Greece. They received full honors as well as a small memorial engraved with their names... I...I really don''t see why your organization wouldn''t even give you the time of day if you fell in combat, protecting us."
"Ha-ha. It''s a cruel world, darling. If the Arcana Council and the British Magic Intelligence honestly printed the names of every Witch and Magician who gave up their lives for the British Empire in the local newspapr... people would start to question who we really are, and why there is magically a large number of people that ''exceeded'' the recorded Volunteer roster...It''s only a matter of time before your government uncover our secret, and start a second Global Witch Hunt again."
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡±
Raymond Collishaw wanted to answer. He had opened his mouth, formed the right words in his mind, and even steeled himself to save what he felt with every raw emotion. It truly was unfair, to be forgotten like a piece of trash. To sacrifice one''s life for the sake of a nation''s future, only to have some jack@ss vandalize their grave or ruin the charity that go into remember them. He knew that was a terrible feeling, to simply be forgotten.
Yet, no matter how prepared he was... he just couldn''t get the words out. He tried to cut it down, to a bare minimum, to get something spoken, to move the conversation. In the end, he would get one word that would make no sense being said on its own. B@stards. The Canadian Pilot thought about keeping that to himself, until he could come up with a better context.
"...Besides. It''s not like I''m all for the whole fire three volleys into the sky or anything. I don''t even like being stuffed in a coffin. It''s too cramped.
¡°Sleipnir, don¡¯t¡ª¡±
"It''s fine, Ray-Ray. I really don''t mind. The moment my fellow sisters and I joined the Canadian Witch Corp, our first day was spent understanding that our loses will never be remembered. It will never be recorded. We either live to fight for those who cannot defend themselves with magic, or disappear from the face of the Earth. Ah, how well I remember. 290 of us signed up, only 58 stayed after that little lecture. And here I am, a full-fledged Magician of the Canadian Expeditionary Forces fighting the Kraut Empire from world domination......"
".............."
"...Please don''t feel guilty, darling. You have your own burden to worry in this war as an airplane ace. This, is my burden as a Witch."
"I understand now. At first, I never really believed in your magic, or your world. But having fought next to you, the way you protect me from German and Austrian-Hungaria Sorcerers, or even Magis of the Ottoman Empire. I truly understand... you''re no different than the lads in the Royal Naval Air Service or the Trenches. You''re fighting along side us, the only difference is that your ammunitions are bolts of fire and scatter of lightning. To be honest, you and your fellow Witch sisters are really amazing."
"Oh my oh my. Is Ray-Ray praising me. Be cause how you use your honeyed words, my dear. I might just fall for you even more."
"Witch or not. You can''t let the system end like this. What about your parents? Your two mothers. What do they get? For us, at least they receive a pension on our behalf and a national flag to honor our duty to our country."
"... They''re Witches too, on a level greater than myself. They know the risk too well. They have been serving the Crown and British Royal Family for many years, it''s in our bloodline to protect the British Empire from collapse and destruction. At least, they will be proud of what I am fighting for in the Western Front."
"We shouldn''t leave it like this. I may not be a suitable person, but I am willing to speak with your superiors, or council, and advocate for you Witches to received some sort of equality. Even if you''re all girls, you''ve showed as much courage and bravery like any other young man would in the field. Whether it be battling a mage, healing the sick, or even tossing grenads out of dug outs. We need to at least try to--"
A slender finger reached out, touching Raymond Collishaw¡¯s lips. It was a touch that would silence a savage lion or a frighten lamb. The soothing sensation that would tell you everything was alright now, you have nothing to fear.
Like that lullaby¡ Hush little baby don¡¯t you cry, Mama¡¯s going to buy you a diamond ring.
¡°Sssssssh¡.It''s alright, Ray-Ray. I really enjoy this pleasant atmosphere with you. So please, don''t ruin it by dragging in unnecessary politics... alright?"
"... Yes. I understand."
"Fu-fu-fu. I have such a cute partner, eh Mr. Ace?"
"You''ve been improving over the last few months. Who knows, if you really devote your time into becoming a pilot, you''ll become the next Canadian Ace like Billy Bishop."
"...Pass...Now, be a sweety and give me your arm to hold."
The Canadian Witch smiled and she coiled her long bruised arms around the Canadian Pilot¡¯s arm. Even with sprained shoulder, she was willing to gnaw on the inside of her cheek to endure the pain, so she could envelop herself in a gentle warmth that she yearned deep inside. As if tired from all the evil from the world, she rested her head across Raymond Collishaw¡¯s shoulder. Her long black hair spilled over them like a weeping willow, her frail and exposed legs covered in cuts drawing int to make her body curl up.
Like a fetus in a mother''s womb.
"... Hey. Ray-Ray. If I ever become a Poppy, would you remember this cute little Witch?"
"Yes. Yes I would."
"Tee-hee. Don''t ever make a girl a promise, if you know you can''t keep it."
¡°I promise I will remember you. Even to my last breath.¡±
"... Ray-Ray...Could you read it again. That poem in the book you found. I... I want to hear it once more."
Raymond Collishaw was in pain himself, but he didn¡¯t care. All he could do was slowly move his working arm to pull something out of his jacket pocket across his chest. In his fingers was this leather journal the size of his palm. The skin was so worn out, there were torn holes from prolonged use and rough handling. Not to mention multiple pages covered in both rain and mud stains.
Its leather skin was well worn, with holes ripped from prolonged use and the corner of the page stained in rain and mud water. There was a single red ribbon clipped in between a section of pages. The Canadian Pilot carefully opened it, to reveal the marked section. There was a series of hand writing, that filled exactly two pages. It looked like something a doctor would scribble when providing a medication to a patient.
Raymond Collishaw took in a small deep breath... and read the words.
| In Flanders field the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid guns below. |
| We are Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flander''s Fields. |
| Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flander''s Fields
~~Dr. John McCrae |
"........Sleipnir?"
When Raymond Collishaw had completed reciting the poem inside of the tattered journal, he felt an awkward silence hang over him. This wasn''t the same type of dead air his partner and himself would have if the conversation involved magic and science. Neither was it the kind of quiet tone that didn''t want the conversation to run down a dangerous path.
The Canadian Pilot turned, and found the Canadian Witch slowly drifting to sleep across his shoulder. Either in her final moments of consciousness, or her subconscious surfacing as she dives into a well deserved slumber, she cried with a small faint smile.
"Promise me...Don''t ever turn into a Poppy...Ray-Ray..."
"... I''ll do my best, Sleipnir. Sweet dreams."
:: RAYMOND P. COLLISHAW ::
Retired from military service at age 33 in 1943 as Air Vice Marshal of the Egypt Air Command in the African Campaign (WW2). Married to Neita Trapp in 1942 England and eventually settled down and passed away in West Vancouver, British Columbia in 1976 (Age 82).
:: *ID CLASSIFIED* ::
Codename: SLEIPNIR. 10th Lv. Magician of the Canadian Witch Corp, 5
th Newfoundland Wands.
M.I.A. as of August 8, 1918. Last known mission, Battle of Amiens.
Whereabouts = UNKNOWN.
''Please don''t forget us.''
~~ Canadian Expeditionary Forces
Remembrance Day, 2018
Entry #5 = The Firebirds Over Messines (Mines, Mines, Mines)
| June 7, 1917
West Flanders, Belgium
''B'' Flight Squadron (No. 10) |
|
My squadron is being deployed in the Operation in Messines.
We encountered some resistance along the way, but we
arrived to the starting point of the offensive with time to spare.
We will be joining the 53rd and the 57th Royal Flying Corp,
to provide air support to the British Second Army that will
start the offensive against the German 4th Army''s. Our
objective as a whole is to take their Oosttaverne Line.
The lads and I will deal with the Germans in the sky,
but we have to stay clear as to where the mines are
located across our map.
I can''t go into too much detail right now, however
I have to remember to bring ear plugs.
~Collishaw
|
(3:09 AM) ................
................ (3:10 AM)
¡ª*BTOOOOOOOOM!*
¡°HOLY SH*T! D-DID THE GROUND JUST GAVE BIRTH TO A DRAGON!?!?¡±
¡°That''s not a fantastical beast, Sleipnir! The British Second Army detonated the mines!"
Raymond Collishawhad to shut his eyes hiding behind goggles as a giant column of fire erupted from under the ground. The tower of living blaze was 100 meters high, and the width was about 30 meters. The area of effect in the ground below him just caved in, forging a sink hole in a 20 meter radius. Whatever was sitting on that portion of land was either incinerated by the fire, or swallowed up by the maw of the Earth.
Either way, it was a scene that no one could take their eyes off, even if they were fighting on planes in the sky.
"OH MY GOOOOOOOOOD! E-even if I am a Witch wh-who can throw a Level 10 Fireball Spell, th-this level of destruction is too violent! I-it will make even an pyromaniac Archmage cr*p his robes!"
¡°Hang on! I think the shockwave is going to hit us¡ªNUWOOOH! SPOKE TO SOON!¡±
¡°NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!¡±
The all-black Sopwith Triplane was flying in the air, until a shockwave slapped it in the face. Distorting the air flow and inducing a fluctuation of alternating wind pressure, it forcd the three-winged plane to rattle like a maraca. It took a steep dive, losing altitude in a steep slope. Thankfully, the Canadian Pilot controlling it was able to reduce the speed to engine, balance out the plane, and then pushed the throttle to maximum in order to keep itself from hitting the earth that was about30 meters above the ground.
Close call.If only his partner sitting in the back seat of the plane understood his feelings.
¡°M-my ears are ringing Ray-Ray! Wh-what exactly happened!? Uwa-uwa (@x@)¡±
¡°The 171th Tunnelling Company. The Royal Engineers had been digging out this elaborate mine in this are under the Spanbroekmolen area. It took them 6 months to build and they were waiting for the right time to use it as a trap for the GermanEmpire. Geeze, after holding back for one full year and now it''s all gone in only two seconds. It must be a mess for the German front down there.
¡°Wait! Wait! It¡¯s still exploding! There¡¯s more and more brand spanking new volcanoes popping up from one end of the province to another. J-just how long is this thing!?¡±
¡°Last I hear about it, therewere 19 mines altogether. I think it¡¯s about 1798 feet long give or take.¡±
¡°(O§ÕO)......Holy sh*t!¡±
The Canadian Witch gave out a light squeak of a scream, but that was drowned out when another series of underground explosions ignited the air. She would lean over the side of the Sopwith Triplane, watching sinkhole after sinkhole of burning white fire erupting from the belly under ground. Each belching ball of flame appeared with an intentional delay in time. There would be two blowing up in the West, and then 2 minutes later three more would erupt in the Northwest direction.
Altogether, she could count 19 full blown non-nuclear eruptions that ripped throu the belly of the earth across the West Flanders. Their combined destructive mass created this large crater, about 76 meter in diameter and 12 meter deep. Any earthly foundation, trenches, bedrock, or even landmass close to the edge of this create ended up collapsing and spiling in. Like quicksand.
This causes more smoke and fire to appear, spreading across a column of ants known as the Imperial German 4
th Army.
¡°Uugh. R-Ray-Ray...I-I don¡¯t feel so good.¡±
"If you''re really sick of flying, please file a request to transfer to another unit on the ground. And don''t worry, those explosions aren''t toxic. It''s not like chlorine gas. Even if there was a terrible exhaust of combust minerals, this altitute wouldn''t¡ª"
"No...it''s...not.......Guh...Aaggh....BLEEGEGH!"
Raymond Collishaw wanted to turn and frown at his partner. Despite a Witch, she had a penchant for throwing up due to air sickness. How she became his partner in the sky, he''ll never understand the workings of her superiors in the magical society.
But before he could even move his neck - a fresh splatter of blood painted the back of his arm, and stained the visor of his cockpit. As if someone fired a bullet in the back of someone''s head. Only there was no gunshot.
"...Sl...Sleipnir!"
"S...sorry...I...I tried to turn away but....Uuugh."
The Canadian Pilot traced the splatter trajectory to the source that was sitting behind him. The Canadian Witch covered her mouth with one hand, while she clutched the side of her body where her liver would have been. Buckets of blood had spilled from her mouth, as if she was bite into a ballon filled with fresh red dye. It was still leaking from behind her covered mouth.
"...I...I think the blast... uuugh... ru-ruptured the blood vessels in my liver and spleen..."
"H-how? What? B-but I''m perfectly fine. What happened? D-did you get hit by a machine gun? B-but the Germans are too confused to even bother shooting at us right now, so how did this happen?"
"Ha-ha. Uugh. Sorry, darling,I...I should have properly explained to you, the--guurg...The anatomy and physiology of a magician...Aaagh."
The Canadian Pilot kept one shaking hand on the joystick of his craft while he stared dumbfounded at his partner who kept throwing up blood. Red fell and dripped over her lap, soaking the raven feathers on her dress. To his astonishment, even the Witch''s ears were leaking with red fluid. Not even her nose was spared.
"...Magicians fo-focus their powers by using the blood vessels in their body as an arcane circle, to save time in drawing symbols or using minor spells that require runes to be drawn by hand. We''ve pushed the limits of our physiology to the point where a major shockwave or even a blast from, guug, a grenade could rupture our internal organs like poking a finger into a thin piece of ¡ªGABUUFFDDGG cough cough...Sorry Ray-Ray, I-I didn''t mean to get your face dirty I...I couldn''t hold it in."
"Sh-sh*t! You''re vomitting red by the buckets! W-we have to touch down to¡ª"
¡°W-we can¡¯t. Cough, look.¡±
The Canadian Witch threw up more blood onto her own lap, drenching her skirt and her legs. With a shaky hand, she held up a trembling finger to point at the ground below. Raymond Collishaw would follow her gesture and inspected the battle across te ground.
Parts of the tower of blazes suddenly became twisted, mangled even. It soon took on a long shape that ripped itself from the base of the fire and started to fly around. To his astonishment, it turned into this long dragon like serpent with massive bat-shaped wings.
"Wh-what the h*ll is that?"
"...Fu-fu...Those Kraut Sorcerers must be diehard loyalists to their beloved Empire. To manipulate the origin legend of the Chimera and force it into the shape of a wyvern. How desperate they must be to win this war."
¡°Wait.Y-you mean, there''s Magicians here? B-but how can they still fight, are they immune to the explosion."
"Darling... if a Witch in the air like me was is spitting up blood from her stomach, what do you think would happen to magic users on the ground?"
"..........."
"... They must be dying, bleeding from their eyes, mouth, arms, and legs. Even if they do live through this, they''ll be nothing more than comatose vegetables. To think they have enough brain power to deliver this kind of deadly counter attack... those Krauts... can be really... stubborn..."
"H-Hey! Sleipnir, w-wake up! D-don''t fall asleep with that smile! C-come on, tell me what to do? I''m not Magic Specialist, so keep your brain working and tell me what to do!"
"...Heh-heh...It''s...rude to slap a lady awake... even if... you''re helping me."You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
"SLEIPNIR!"
Raymond Collishaw had trouble to deal with two situations at once. First, he was shaking and pulling on the hair of the Canadian Witch to keep her eyes open, despite losing a lot of blood. Second, he couldn''t understand the science of the flying phenomenon that took the form of a snake-like dragon with bat wings whipping around the sky.
Embers danced from its wing as it flew over the battle across the Messine below. Those small sparkling red flares would touch trees on the ground and it would instantly burst into a full tower of fire. Any plane that tried to shoot it down only had their rounds pass through it, like a revolver to a bonfire. In the end, once the creature made of living magic slap the craft with its wings it incinerated. It didn''t even fall as a burning wreck, it just up and turned to ashes on the spot.There was no way a fire hose could solve this problem.
"...Ray-Ray...I...I have an idea. Ggeeegh."
"No. You''re in no condition to fight. And if you use magic in that state, it might kill you. I don''t know how magic works, but I know that a wound soldier wouldn''t survive shooting a rifle without crippling his arm!"
"...It''s... very simple... give me your goggles."
Without a second thought, the pilot pulled off his flight goggles and handed them into the shaking open hand of the Canadian Witch. The girl just smiled through red-stained lips.
"The Chimera... is a fantastical beast... but it really is... skewed rumors based on...a geyser that spits fire... in Turkey..."
"H-how is this going to help us."
"Magic... isn''t about waving wands.. reciting incantation... or...mumbling........................................"
"...SLEIPNIR!"
"Ah sorry...I fell asleep...As I was saying, Magic... is all about... manipulating the ideology of everything around us, to bend it''s nature and its form... to our desire...Ahead..."
"Huh?¡ªWHOA!?"
Raymond Collishaw had been too focused on his woundered partner, that he didn''t notice the flaming bat-winged dragon coming at him. With a curse he kicked the controls around to flip the plane upside down. It ended up ''gliding'' over the belly of the beast as it missed him by a hair. He heard the rubber in his tires popping from the heat and some of the embers punched hot scores through the foils of his plane.
He gritted his teeth and pulled the joystick back, to pull him away from the beast''s body. After a quick loop, he swooped under a German Fokker that crossed his path and matched its speed to use it as a shield from the flare and ember that showered down. The enemy plane was covered in flaming moths of ember, before it was struck by the tail of the flaming wyvern creature.It was when the beast fly past him and up yonder could he let out a sigh, smelling burnt rubber and metal all around him.
"...Ha-ha...All done... darling...coughggh"
The Pilot snapped out of his thoughts and turned back again. He gagged. The entire body of the Witch was starting to bleed. Skin lesions started to form over her arms and shoulders, and she was bleeding from them. Red dripped harder from her ears, but she ignored it as she added the final touched.What she did was a large amount of feathers to his goggles, to the point where it made a laurel of some sort. It wasn''t just 10 or 15 pieces, but it was tightly woven with over 50 feathers.
"...Have you heard of the...the Raven...stealing the light from the gods..."
"No."
"That''s fine... p...put this on your gun. Th...think of a raven taking flight...and...steal the light from the flesh of the beast."
"H-hold it, I-I don''t understand one bit. Wh-what do you mean?"
A loud and unearthly screech filled the air. It sounded like another mine had went off and ripped another hole in the ground. But in fact it came from the sky. The Canadian Pilot would look up and see that wyvern coming around for a second pass. It was scorching up the clouds and the planes in the air, regardless of which faction. There was only one chance at this.
"Tch!"
Raymond Collishaw took the laurel of raven feathers and his goggles to wrap it around the Vickers machine gun on his plane. It twisted the band around to secure it in place and turned his plane. Somehow, the thought of a knight on horseback flashed before his eyes. Then they connected, the eyes of the flaming beast and the eyes of a human pilot. They were charging.
"...Three..."
The trembling thumb touched the trigger to activate the Vicker Machine gun.
"...Two..."
The second hand gripped the joystick, ready to flinch out if everything were to go wrong.
"...NUWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!"
The Pilot fired his weapon. The first thing that happened was the goggles released this intense green fog from their lens. They cracked, even shattering to become flying shards. But they didn''t fall off. Instead, they moved on their own like pixies and dragged the threads of raven feathers all over the weapon. The whole thing was covered in black feathers.
Like a perched raven. And listening to a small voice in the back of his head, Raymond Collishaw clenched his teeth to think of a raven spreading its wings. The feathers on the machine gun opened, revealing a silver barrel. It released a hailfire of what looked like silver darts.
*SHRIP* *SHRIP* *SHRIP* *SHRIP* *SHRIP*
The flaming wyvern let out a painful cry. Bullets would normally pass through its body. The silver rounds did just that, but it also tore off portions of its flaming skin as it ran through it like knives.It was exactly how a grizzly bear would tear off the meat from a salmon it caught from the river. Rip. Rip. Rip.
"H-holy sh*t! It''s working!"
The black Sopwith Triplane kept firing non stop. Raymond Collishaw didn''t know how long this magical countermeasure would last, but was going all in for this gamble. He never once let go of his thumb on the trigger, even when the raven feathers became brittle from the constant attack and started to peel off. The wings that opened also was losing their color, dissolving even.
"Just a bit more! Hang in there Black Maria!"
Chanting a prayer under his breath, he kept firing. Firing. Firing. Firing. Even when he was about to collide.
"GEH!?"
Raymond Collishaw braced for impact, preparing his body to feeling an intense burn all over him when his plane dove into the ripped form of the wyvern... only to tackle through it and split the creature in two. The best way to describe this wasn''t a single swipe of a sword beheading a creature.
Rather, it was as if the young man tumbled into the curtains of the stage and ripped them right off their hooks. And the whole magical beast blew out as quick as a candle.
"......................................................Oh my god, magic is too much for me."
Opening his eyes and surveying his existence, he touched his head and shoulder to offer a quick Lord''s Prayer to the heaven above his head. Kissing his hand and touching it to the console of his plane, he let out a sigh.
"..........Sleipnir. The next time you do something this crazy, please write a full manual of how it...........Sleipnir?"
The Canadian Witch sitting behind him did not answer. A dreadful sensation grabbed the Pilot by the shoulder. He didn''t want to look and face the truth... but he felt he would regret it if he didn''t. So he turned.
A girl with frayed long black hair could be seen curled up in the back seat of Black Maria. She had this peaceful look on her face and a smile. Body drenched in thick blackish red blood. Even now, the red from the corner of her lips won''t stop dripping.
"D*MN IT SLEIPNIR! I TOLD YOU NOT TO FALL ASLEEP ON ME!"
"Uuuuuuuh...R...Ray-Ray....My stomach hurts."
"You say that, yet you''ve spend the last few days rolling around in bed, mumbling about salmon this and salmon that."
"Can you blame me, 90% of my magic is based on the Raven in indigenous folklore... it''s only obvious I would adopt some characteristic of the keysymbol of my powers."
Raymond Collishaw let out a sigh as he crossed his legs on a chair next to the Canadian Witch''s bed. They could be found in a large hospital tent that tended to the wounded on the battlefield, mostly those who survived the battle on the ground of Messine.
Due to the sensitivity of her identity as a Witch, it was obvious she was placed in a secluded section in the hospital tent that was devoted to healing wounded magicians. The Canadian Pilot look around at this point. All the 20 or so beds in this secluded division were full, with another 20 lying on straw cots and tarps used to cover trucks placed across the floor. Many of them were badly wounded, not from bullets or even shrapnel from artillery.
Like the Canadian Witch, the massive non-nuclear explosions from the mines injured their internal organs. He kept hearing how blood vessels of various parts of the body were damaged, some in the lungs, in the kidneys, and one had a crticial condition with his heart valve. Deep down, he felt bad for them. Especially one Wizard wearing a British Officer Uniform who suddenly snuck out of his bed, hobbling on his magical staff made of twisting oak to return to the battlefield in Messine. Fortunately, a Witch dressed as a medical Nun ''subdued him'' and threw him back to bed. Raymond Collishaw had to cover one side of his eyes to avoid witnessing the violence. He wasn''t in the mood to be part of a court-martial.
"...Psst. Ray-Ray. While the nosy Druids and Acolytesaren''t looking, get me salmon. It has to be raw."
"Sleipnir. Please understand, there are no fresh salmon available for miles, not even in the nearest town. All the artillery barrages we''ve punched into the ground would have scared them out of streams and rivers. And it''s not likeCanada is popular enough to be exporting smoked salmon across the world...And who the h*ll eats fish raw? Are you a seal or something!?"
"B-but you don''t understand. M-my intentions is to use the vitamins and the essential fat in the fish to hurry the process of my healing! I-it actually helps to promote cellular regeneration in my injured organs! Besides, th-their Willow Powder and-and Wasp Nectar concoction used as a healing potion tastes f**king terrible. It''s worsethan licking a cat''s paw!"
".................................................................."
"...L...long story."
"As I''ve just came back from fighting the German Air Force, I have free time before my next sortie."
"Geh! B-back when I was training in Nova Scotia, I-I lost to a bet with another greenhorn Witch. The loser had the choice of licking a cat''s paw or... or...it''s¡ª"
"I''m tired. We''ll just leave it at that."
"Oh my god, thank you. You''re the best regular person I''ve ever met!"
"Now, seeing how you''re alright, I think it''s safe to say you''re stable. Good night."
"W-wait! D-don''t leave yet! S-stay with me, I-I don''t like being all alone!"
"The last two days I was helping the British Second Army push back the remnants of the German Fourth Army. You weren''t complaining when you were on your own then."
"I-I was completely unconscious and sedated on questionable drugs stuck into unnecessary places in my body! Th-that''s totally different. N-now that I''m awake, i-it''s very noisy in here, a-and the nurses are really, really scary."
"You have fellow magicians all around you in recovery. You should be in good company."
"No. I wouldn''t be surprised if another Witchcomes over and shoves more than needles up wierd places in my body! I-I don''t trust them even with my life. Th-they''re jealous of my beauty!"
The Canadian Pilot couldn''t hold back a small frown at his partner. Even if she had the face of an angry hamster, it had little to no damage to his mental psyche.
"There is no shame in being afraid of the dark."
"G-guh!? Y-you''re imagining things! I-I''m n-not the kind of Witch who needs tosleep with a bedside lantern turned on."
"............................................................."
"R-Ray-Ray? Wh-why do you have s-such a serious face all of a sudden?"
"...I should have said this earlier but... Thank you... for saving me...with the flying red dragon and all."
"I-it was a wyvern, a totally different sub class...and...I didn''t do anything special."
The Canadian Witch curled herself in her hospital bed, pulling up the covers to hide her face. Her eyes avoided connecting with the Canadian Pilot who kept her company, not from shame or anger. More like, she didn''t know how to express her emotions right now. She blamed it on the cocained used for her anaesthetics.
"Oh and I tried my best, but this was all that''s left from your magic last time."
"Hmm?"
The girl turned to see the Pilot pulling something out from under his coat. It was kept hidden inside of his flight jacket, over his heart and he pulled it out to show it under the dim light bulb that flickered every now and then inside of the tent. It was a raven''s feather. It didn''t look healthy, having become brittle and worn out. Some white patches had dotted itself across the stem and the edges, like an anemic fish.
"Your feather. It was all I could save before the rest disappeared."
"You do know I don''t need them anymore. They''re all materials I could only use one time per spell."
"........................................................Oh."
"But...I''m grateful... that you kept a part of me so close to your body... darling."
Raymond Collishaw''s face flushed red. The Canadian Witch too, but she coyfully hid them under her blankets. Looking off with thoughtful eyes, she was thinking of something special to herself. She braved herself to voice them outloud.
"...Ray-Ray...When...when the war is over... let''s get married and have thirty children...How does that¡ªF**k."
The Canadian Witch wanted to see the Pilot''s sheepish expression, to see how well he would react under pressure.
He was cool as a cucumber... because Raymond Collishaw was already walking out of the tent like a gentlemen.
"................God-d*mn it, Ray-Ray. Listen to a girl properly when she''s confessing her feelings!...Sniff."
Entry #6 = Talk of Magical Warfare Over Dinner (Salmon Tonight)
| June 10, 1917
Operation in Messine
West Flanders, Belgium |
| The offensive in the Messine plains is still continuing, however
my squadron is forced to withdraw from the action in order
to refuel, rearm, and to rest up. We''ve been flying around for
almost 12 full hours, with very little breaks in between.
Due to the rise of pilot death caused by exhaustion and sleep
deprivation, Allied HighCommand had set a new policy that
every pilot in both the Royal Flying Corp and the Royal Naval
Air Service needs to have a mandatory 6 hour break. Of course
as we''re almost driving the Germans out of their Oostaverne
Defensive line, our rest time is not cut down to 4.5. It''s merciful.
Once we get a quick sleep, we''ll be right back into the fray.
I feel uncomfortable, sitting on the ground with my hands tied.
So I just keep telling myself: I have to rest up, or else I''ll end
up falling asleep on the console and dive bomb into Allied Trenches.
I honestly don''t want that to be the end of me, or anyone.
~~Collishaw
|
¡°Sleipnir. Eat your peas and carrots. You¡¯ll never know when you''ll ever get to eat fresh vegetables again, especially inwar with limited rations and supplies.¡±
¡°Nein! A hero always eats her salmon dutifully! Never peas, carrots, or lima beans!Only villains do that!!¡±
Raymond Collishaw didn¡¯t like eating alone. Normally he would like to spend his evening meals with his squadmates, or possibly with another squadron group he will be working with after his resting shift. He felt it would establish a bond outside of the battlefield,not to mention warm food and hot coffee always seemed to open the road to communication and understanding from each other.
However, the moment they touched down everyone in his squadron skipped their dinners.Once theywalked out of the showersin the field bases, they just tripped and fell on their bunks. Not even the artillery from thesurviving forces of the German 4
th Army that were blown up by a previous mine explosion could make these tired pilotsflinch in their slumber.
Then there was the fact that most of the pilots that took off in the morning, never had the chance to come back. Either shot down, crashed, or captured. So there really wasn¡¯t much people left in the mess hall of the British occupied air base. If there was, there were only members from the British Royal Flying Corp, or the American Air Force.
Raymond Collishaw didn¡¯t knew any of these foreign faces, so he had no choice but to take his meal to his personal officer quarters.In the end, he still had company for his dinner but somehow it just spoiled a bit of his appetite.
¡°You know Sleipnir. If you don¡¯t eat your peas and carrots, you¡¯ll never grow up to be a beautiful girl.¡±
¡°Nice try darling. But both of my mothers have used that same attack on me too many times in my youth. I fell for their trap for the first two years, but once I¡¯ve done my research and saw no correlation of the vitamins inpeas and carrotsto the application of a woman¡¯s beauty, I called them out on it.¡±
¡°Wow. You must really hate your greens.¡±
¡°Brocolli is alright when boiled down. But Brussel Spouts are my greatest nemesis¡They''re bitterness distorts the inner flow of my mana. Cough... Speaking of which, looks like I¡¯m not the only person who fears this small round enemy. You haven¡¯t once touched your own brussel sprouts, Mr. Hypocritical Ace Pilot.¡±
¡°¡ My jaw is sore from doing loops all day. I can¡¯t bite through them.¡±
¡°Likely story.¡±
Raymond Collishaw turned away. He didn¡¯t really want to look at the clouds in the night sky outside of his window. He just wanted to avoid the judging stare from the Canadian Witch sitting across from him. As his private quarter didn¡¯t have a table like in the mess hall, he converted his office desk into a makeshift dining table. All of his reports, typewriter, and volumes on flight techniques were sitting neatly on the corner of his bed.
The Canadian Witch sighed, giving up her staring attack, and cut into the food of her plate.
¡°Again. Why are you eating your salmon raw?¡±
¡°Don¡¯t you know. The nutritional value in food is at their highest when eating them raw.¡±
¡°Yet, I do not see any restaurants that happily served uncooked pork as a lunch menu. Not even the French eat their escargot without some spices and cooking wine flambe to make it edible.¡±
¡°That¡¯s different. Those are blood meat, of course they have to be thoroughly cooked to remove the pestilence and the parasites that are lying inside of their muscle layers. The only kind of people who eat their Angus Beef 100% bloody are the Druids. Even Necromancers have standard when it comes to their steak being well done."
¡°And yet, you¡¯re eating a raw fish. I don¡¯t see how this is saving you face.¡±
¡°Fu-fu-fu. Haven¡¯t you heard? Seafood is completely different. They are raised in the sea, which is 99% salt content all around. Why, they¡¯ve learned to thrive in such a sterilizing environment, no other virus or parasites exist in their fat content! Ha-ha.¡±
¡°As a former First Officer of the Canadian Fisheries Protection Services, I know that¡¯s not true. There is so much cr*p left in the water from the effluent of boat exhaust and sunken ships, you don¡¯t want to know what kind of bacteria are evolving at the ocean floor.¡±
¡°Then would it not be rude to tell this young lady about such horros of the ocean! Take that back and let me eat my salmon in peace! M-my magic depends on ingesting certain foods to keep my mana flow circulating! O-otherwise, my powers will eventually drain itself out from over use. It¡¯s like recharging a battery with a Ledyen Jar!¡±
¡°You keep saying that, but I had no clue what a Leyden Jar is.¡±
¡°You can¡¯t be serious! Someone born in the reality of science is trumped by a simple girl who was raised in a secluded society of magic!? Hah! My dear Ray-Ray, you¡¯re already going senile.¡±
¡°Hmm. I heard this breed of salmon often has parasites that can turn into tape worms when ingested.¡±
¡°Guh! D-DON¡¯T RUIN MY DINNER! D*MN IT, I CAN¡¯T EVEN LOOK AT MY FOOD WITHOUT FEELING MICROSCOPING ORGANISM VIOLATING MY INTESTINES!!¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Raymond Collishaw stared at the Canadian Witch who was more or less playing around with her food. She had a dish that essentially had this large fresh slab of Atlantic Salmon top, garnished with some chives. No matter what angle the pilot would look at, it was 100% raw.
He was wondering if because of the way the girl was dressed as a raven, that she would instinctively act like one. As much as he wanted to make a long series of raven related puns, he stopped himself when he actually saw the Witch quickly sliced a piece of salmon muscles from right under the pectoral fin and bite it. The small sound of slurping spaghetti could be heard.
¡°I know there¡¯s this saying that¡¯s it¡¯s rude to chew on your food like a wolf, but did you just swallow the thing whole?¡±
¡°What? It slides down the throat easier. Also, the texture as a whole piece is quite comforting. Oh-ho-ho.¡±
¡°¡Aren¡¯t you worried about choking on bones?¡±
¡°Please. Only dogs and Druids choke on fish bones. If you know the anatomy of the aquatic species, you can avoid all those critical places that would involve hitting their rib cages.¡±
¡°¡Why Druids?¡±
¡°As much as they excel in animal transformation and nature magic, they have zero table manners. Personally, I dislike them. Period.¡±
¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not just jealous of them having more convenient magic than you.¡±
¡°Oh? Is my darling trying to pick a fight with this sweet little witch?¡±
¡°Eat your peas and carrots.¡±
¡°I told you once, I shall tell you again¡ªNEIN!¡±
The Canadian Witch broke whatever grace she had left by slamming her fists onto the table¡ªer, office desk. With the way she held the fork and knife in her grasp, she looked exactly like a baby throwing a tantrum. The Canadian Pilot wasn¡¯t exactly amused, so he took his frustrations out on his roast beef.
¡°...Say. Sleipnir. Aren¡¯t you worried about the other girls?¡±
¡°What other girls? Guh! I-Is Ray-Ray two-timing behind my back!? I-it hasn''t been what, a full week since we became partners and you''re already thinking about another woman at the altar!?¡±
¡°...No...I mean the other girls in your Canadian Witch Corp. Are they here for the operation in Messine as well?¡±
¡°Oh...I see. My apologies. I misunderstood you. Next time, please don''t slur."
"........"
"As you mentioned before, tt¡¯s a definite thing that some of my fellow Witches on here. Our Magical Warfare Protocol dictactes that there should be at least one Witch or Magician to support key army divisions deployed in the Western Front. For example, there should be a team of 10 Witches hiding amongst the 1
stCanadian Division, pairs of Magicians for the 3
rd British Dragoon Guards, to even a squad of Wizards hidden amongst the 50
th Prince of Wales Field Artillery Regiment.¡±
¡°Why hidden?¡±
¡°You''ve always been told that magic doesn¡¯t exist, remember? We¡¯ve been hiding our entire society from the normal world so we don¡¯t have people getting riled up and start shoving torches and pitchforks up our @ss. My Witch ancestors weren¡¯t into that kind of thing. To make matters more convenient in this war, only certain commanding officers or experience soldiers are told of their magical partner''s identity. They are to swear never to share it with even their own fellow troops."
¡°...Now that you mention it, I do recall signing a stack of papers I was given the moment I was promoted to Flight Lieutenant of my own Squadron...Hmm...Maybe I should have paid more attention to the fine print...¡So, how do you keep yourselves hidden.¡±
¡°You ask that question, yet you¡¯re staring at my breasts.¡±
¡°You do realize your dress stands out rather boldly, no? You look like a walking chicken that fell into a tar pit. Poor creature.¡±
¡°ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME, RAYMOND COLLISHAW!?¡±
The Canadian Witch shouted those words with her hair flapping all over her face. Almost like a real raven bird flapping its wings to show discontent. Somehow, it just madethe namesake Pilot worked very hard not to fall out of his seat and laugh on the floor.
¡°Ahem. As I was trying to say. We still like to pretend we magic users don¡¯t exist to the modern society. What better way to serve the regular army in secret than pretending to be a another soldier, or even an officer amongst their unit. Despite the false badges and medals, they won''t be given any real authority over the situations in the trenches. At most, they carry a pistol which they could occassionally use against a normal German Soldier. But once a Kraut Magician shows up, they will take action and provide full magical support."
¡°And the women? I highly doubt some are as bold as you. Or, try to Mulan it.¡±
¡°Darling. You¡¯ve been reading too much North American fairy tales. Of course most of us girls poses as nurses or nuns in the military chaplain. In our training back in Nova Scotia, we were given a crash course in medical care and even received more or less basic training for young nuns. That way, we can keep up the ruse, and carry out both our regular duties as well as stand on guard and fight enemy magicians at the drop of a veil.¡±
¡°¡Um...Do you know anyone, who are supporting the British 4
th Army right now?¡±
¡°Possibly. I have met one of my fellow sisters who trained with me back in Peggy''s Cove.She''s fine, and working for the Medical unit in this operation, However, I keep telling her nuns shouldn''t be in the trenches. I think she mistaken the nun robe for the nursing uniform by accident...Although, it¡¯s not that common for the British Empire to employ Canadian Witches.¡±
¡°Oh? Why is that?¡±
¡°We¡¯re all colonials, are we not?¡±
Raymond Collishaw was in the middle of eating his beef steak and baked potatoes. The moment he heard those words, his teeth were stuck biting the fork he had in his mouth.
The Canadian Pilot was born an raised in a small town, on an island off the coast of British Columbia. The pronvince he belonged to was connected toeight other provinces across the coast. At this time, the British colony of Newfoundland was independent from the Dominion calledCanada.
No matter how large the land was, no matter how abundant the environment was, and no matter how civilized the entirety of Canadian Society had been ¨C it was still a colony that flew the English Union Jack, not its own. No Maple leaf defended by two large red walls.That small story will be told at another time.
Although it was one of the prized gems in the British Empire, it was still just a colony. Those born or existed outside of the country of Great Britain, were not true Britons. Even their standing compared to true-born British was substantially lower.In the beginning, every World Power in Europe didn¡¯t think a 50 year old colony like Canada would survive the war. Some may have betted they wouldn¡¯t last more than five days.
¡°...The Canadian Corp still won the Battle of Vimy Ridge."
"Amen to that, darling."
To make themselves feel better, the Pilot and Witch from that young colony shared high-fives with each other.
¡°Now eat your peas and carrots. It¡¯s rude to waste food, especially when our rations are so low.¡±
¡°Nein! All I need is love, magic, and salmon to keep my body going. We Witches will never surrender!¡±
¡°I see. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t tell you about this new parasite that had evolved to eat out the tongues of fishes.¡±
¡°GUUUGGGGGG! R-RAYMOND COLIISHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!¡±
On that night of June 10, 1917, even with all the drumming of the cannons in the distance and the ghostly echoes of explosions that rung in the air¡ somehow, all that laughing at the folly of a certain Witch gave the Canadian Pilot a peaceful, peaceful sleep.
Entry #7 = A Magic Duel in the Sky, the Stage is a Sopwith Triplane (Catfight Between Nations)
| June 14, 1917
Operation in Messine(Dusk)
Western Flanders, Belgium |
| The British 2nd Army are attempting one final push against
the Imperial German 4th Army. The explosionof the multiple
mines from Hill 60, Spanbroekmolen, Ontario Farm, to even
Trench 122 wiped outthe majority of the opposition on the very
first day the battle started. In a sense, they should be crippled.
Instead, it''s made them far more desperate than before.
They''re throwing every available soldier into the front lines,
offloading whatever rounds of artillery they have and went
as far as deploying all of their planes in a reckless counter
offensive. I hate to say it, but its starting to become effective.
The British Second Army are experiencing setbacks in taking
over the front lines and are losing ground meter by meter.
Black Flight''s ordersare to intercept their Luftstreitkrafte squadrons
and cut down their air superiority, so the ground forces are able
to take out key offensive locations across the Oostaverne lines.
This fight was already going down hill, now it''s up to the lads
and I to see that it doesn''t snowball in the wrong direction.
~Collishaw
|
¡°RAY-RAY! IT¡¯S A TRAP! THEY ALL MAGICIAN!¡±
¡°HOLY SH*T! INCOMING!¡±
The black Sopwith Triplane broke out of its charge, guiding several planes in its trail to do the same. A mix of Albatross and Fokker planes screamed past them. Whenever they dove past an Allied Plane, all sorts of things were being launched from the pilot seat.
"Wh-what the h*ll, i-is that guy vomitting snakes out of his mouth!?"
"Tch, this isn''t good! He''s forcefully mixing the core of the Pied Piper of Hamelin with a Snake Charming Incantation!"
"That sounds messed up!"
"The Iron Stakes that were designed to execute the Vampire King; Tesla Coils empowered with enough energy to revive undead beasts like Frakenstein; Tch! They''re even using multiple Germanic-based Christian Anti-Magic spells! The explosion with the mines must have pushed the Krauts to be this desperate for them to deploy ALL of their magicians at once!"
Raymond Collishaw didn¡¯t like an unfair fight. This was a Gentlemen¡¯s War, each army still evolved from a time where men would marched across the field in orderly fashion, even when the attacking army was shooting at them. The discipline, the sense of honor, and the nobility amongst even the opposing officers..
Now, it looked like a child was throwing hand full of rocks just to win an useless argument.And those rocks came in the form of German planes controlled by Magicians of all backgrounds that carried the Iron Cross in their hearts.
¡°If they¡¯re going all out, then there is no sense for this Witch to be a reserved housewife. KAVA-NAK-TIVA!¡±
¡°W-wait, Sleipnir! Don''t¡ªGuwooooh!¡±
Raymond Collishaw felt a growing heat wave nipping at his neck and he ducked. To his astonishment, a massive ball of green flame leaving trails of raven feathers was launched into the air. It exploded half-way in its flight, and it released slashing tongues of emerald blaze all over.
The Canadian Pilot could see several enemy Magicians swinging around rifles, candles, to even whistles on chain to deflect most of the blaze. The rest either were burned alive or were sliced through the plane when the flaming tongues caught them off guard.
As if to follow up on that volley, he noticed arrows of ice flying out from one Sopwith Triplane 3 meters behind him, striking down al Albatross. Even from the ground, he noticed things like golden rings or even china plate with angelic wings fluttering about in the sky, acting as chaff and countermeasure to protect the ground forces from magical aerial attacks.
This was the first time the Pilot had seen a magical battle of this level. As he wasn''t a Magician, the most he could do was avoid getting hit. For example, dodging this viper lunging at his face by intentionally flippin his plane down. With a twist of his controls, he used his wings to turn about and slap the creature aside. From the corner of his eyes, he saw that dead snake turn into harmless strips of silk and paper before it was shredded up by a propeller.
"Don''t hold back darling! Even if they use magic as their ammunnition, they are still the enemy! We have to carry on the pride of the British Empire on our shoulders! RULE BRITANNIA!"
"T-tch. There is no way I''m going to understand any of this but screw this logic!"
Raymond Collishaw flipped several switches on his console to adjust settings in the engine. It was enough to give him an added boost of speed to fly in between two Fokkers that did a terrible job in turning out of the way. All he had to do was spin around on a tight corner, using the triple wings to his advantage with increase air drag, and he set his crosshair.
"Sorry friend."
*RA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA!*
"Sh*t! Sleipnir, stop shooting your magic for a second! You have ridiculous recoil!"
"Sh-shut up and let me focus! I-its impossible to recite the right spell command without being distracted by random bullets and bombs! Vash-niha-ROFA!"
"...Huh?"
The Canadian Pilot continued to shoot, but due to his partner slinging powerful magic with the ferocity of a 6 pound artillery gun, the angle of his plane kept shifting at awkward angles. All of his prepared calculation of leading ahead with his gunfire was skewed. A skilled pilot would realize he was being targeted and would start to turn away before the attacker could readjust. Like missing the first shot of a sniper kill. However.
"H-he ran into the line of fire?"
He watched as the plane he sorefully missed the first time start to bank to the side. A regular pilot would turn ''away'' from the stream of bullets. Rather, this Albatross ended up turning ''into'' the line of fire. Unintentionally, the machine gun shredded into the wings, the fuselage, and even buz-saw through the pilot that even wearing a pilot hlemt or goggles. His wizard like had flew off his hanging head, full of holes and red liquid.
¡°...W-wait. Wait a minute. He could have easily dodged my misfire. S-so why did he dive into it? And the others, h-how come they''re not uprighting themselves from the turn!? Th-they''re going down like moths to a flame! They''re not even pulling up!"
"It can''t be helped Ray-Ray!¡ªKER-NASH-KITO!¡ªCough. You''ve seen yourself how useful I was when it came to helping you fix your plane.¡ªVAS-KORA-NAKTI¡ªI couldn''t even differentiate between a blow torch and a Scottish Terrier."
"M-meaning?"
"We magicians are useless when it comes to learning the technologies the modern world uses on a daily basis. H*ll, my two mothers can''t even operate a phone without blowing it up whenever it rings."
Raymond Collishaw went white. He didn''t lose any oxygen from flying so high, neither did the winds beating into his open cockpit suffocate him. Rather, he started to see his enemies spiraling out of control, one by one. They even crashed into each other, head on, and they didn''t make an attempt to fly out of the way. That or¡ª
"...Does this mean they can''t fly a plane? Isn''t that suicide!?"
"The German 4th Army are on their last leg! They''re dealing everything they have in their arsenal to make sure the Allies don''t win this fight! I won''t be surprised if they gave the order to deploy their Magicians into the air, that way they can spread more damage across the entire battlefield to turn the tide of war to their favor!"
"That''s just too reckless! I seriously don¡¯t know how to handle both bullets and magic crisscrossing all over the air. Ther¡¯es too much variables for me to¡ªSLEIPNIR DUCK1¡¯
¡°Heh¡ªNYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!¡±
The Canadian Witch had been standing her seat when she cast that powered fireball spell. She kept flicking her wrist and her wand through the cold air, scattering feathers from her dress, attacking any incoming plane with a magician with the ferocity of an anti-air machine gun. However, the moment the Canadian Pilot called for her attention, she gave out a cat like squeal and dove into a human ball in her back seat. Like a hamster.
*VRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*
"WHAT THE H*LL!? A STRAIGHT TACKLE!?"
Raymond Collishaw pushed his joystick forward, forcing the Black Maria into a steep dive. He was able to move the plane down fast enough to avoid one Fokker plane trying to ram him from the side.
It was reckless! No pilot, no matter how foolish or brave he was, would ever try and smash their own plane into another. Both pilots will die indefinitely! There was no way the one doing the charge could make a full recovering even if the plane¡¯s frame did hold together. The engine and propeller would be destroyed, reducing their wing speed to zero.
So why!?
¡°H-hey. Hey! Pull up! Pull up on the joystick! The lever in your hands! PULL IT BACK TOWARDS YOU!¡±
The one thing the Canadian Pilot hate seeing the most, was when a rookie pilot forgots how to control his plane and takes a nasty nose dive into the earth. He had seen it one too many times during his training, new pilots with bright starry eyes, ready to fight Germans like the Red Baron.
Only to freak out at the last minute and lost control of their plan. They say that if you even pass the flight training, it was a miracle. If you survive one battle, you¡¯re an ace. If you survive, shoot down an enemy plane, you¡¯re a Super Ace. But often times, 80% of those who accomplish the first three requirement either end up crashing or get shot down by even more experienced fighter pilots.
Fighting in the sky in 1917 was just that difficult.So when he saw his own enemy re-enacting the same thing most rookies do on their evaluation day, it made his stomach flip.
¡°I SAID PULL UP!¡±
*BAAAAM!*
The Pilot felt like vomited when he saw that unscathed plane just take a nosedive right into the ground, at full speed. No one would survive that, not even if they were a Magicians.
¡°They seriously don¡¯t know how to fly a plane! Why are they doing this?¡±
¡°For the sake of their nation acquiring world power! What magician wouldn¡¯t want to be part of an empire that will take control of every country and resource available in the world!? Even our own Magical Council supporting the Allies are looking to gain benefits if we won the conflict altogether. Who doesn¡¯t want to be the most powerful being on the planet!?¡±
¡°This is insane! I can¡¯t accept such a messed up psychology!¡±
Despite saying those words, Raymond Collishaw had no choice but to be a hypocrite in the next second. Instincts took over when an Albatross came into his line of sight. Altough he didn¡¯t fire at first, the tail-gunner in the enemy¡¯s rear seat did.
The magician in the back pulled at the weapon and started firing¡ only no bullet came.
¡°Pfff. She doesn¡¯t know how to fire a machine gun. Of course you squeeze the little metal tips to unload the weapon.¡±
It was unclear ifthe tail gunner heard that secret technique, or they were lucky and found the trigger to use the weapon. The tail machine gun started chattering at full speed.
¡°SLEIPNIR YOU BIG MOUTH!¡±
¡®I-I¡¯M SORRY! I¡¯M SORRY! I-I DIDN¡¯T REALIZE MURPHY¡¯S LAW STILL APPLIES TO THIS SITUATION! GYAAAAAH!¡±
The Canadian Pilot and Canadian Witch ducked as the line of bullets flew over their heads. Some stray shots pierced holes into the wings and some across the hull, butnone of them struck into the two riders of the Black Maria. In fact, the stream of bullets ended up shooting over their heads and up higher into to the sky.
As if someone was manning the machine gun, but was tackled over and sent the active weapon still shooting in an awkward angle.The chattering continued, but it was really hitting nothing but air.
¡°¡I feel very bad for them.¡±
¡°R-Ray-Ray! H-how can you say that when they nearly tried to gut you with flesh ripping bullets! Leave the Kraut b@stards to me. become the merciless Pilot that you are and gun them! Even if they know squat in how to fly a plane and are nothing more than ducks in a shooting game, they are still the enemies of the British Empire and her Allies! We have to take them down!¡±
¡°¡Tch. I really hate this war.¡±
Clicking his tongue, the Canadian Pilot quickly swerved out of the way to avoid colliding with another Fokker Plane. To his dismay, the magician of a pilot ended up not seeing another Sopwith Triplane and the two smashed into each other, head on. They both fell into crumbmled bits, spiraling to the earth in dead silence and bleeding black smoke.
*THUMP*
¡°Wh-what?¡±
Something seemed to hit the Black Maria. It wasn¡¯t a third plane, that was for sure, otherwise Raymond Collishaw would see nothing but red and the sky would spiral around him before seeing the ground. Neither was it a bullet. It felt like, someone was up in the attic but they slipped and fell. That kind of thump.
¡°Wh-who are you!?¡±
¡°Ich werde dich besiegen, feind meiner nation!"
<
>
A girl. There was this odd girl who had suddenly crawled her way up across the top layer of Raymond Collishaw¡¯s Sopwith Triplane. She grabbed onto the edges to secure her balance, all the while her thick gun-metal colored cloak flapping in the wind. Her short blonde hair was fluttering all over, but how she looked was the least of her own worries.
She brandished this sharp looking stick and aimed it directly at the pilot in the open cockpit. Like a gun to his forehead.On closer inspection, the object looked familiar. It reminded the Pilot of his partner''s magic wand.
¡°RAY-RAY! GET DOWN!¡±
The Canadian Witch pounced. She first pushed her partner down into his seat, shielding his head with her body and whipped out her own wand from the gap in her bridal gauntlet.
¡°OK-TOVARA!¡±
¡°VERDAMMT!¡±
Several feathers with sharp ends appeared around the Canadian Witch. They immediately launched themsevle like crossbows bolts and chased after the girl on the top. They stabbed into her, square in the chest. It made her reel, bleed even, but it wasn¡¯t enough to kill her. The Canadian Witch clicked her tongue. She was too focused on protecting the pilot that she didn¡¯t use the right power level to finish this battle quickly.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
¡°Darling, this is my battlefield now. Just keep our stage steady ¨C and don¡¯t you dare pull a barel roll!¡±
¡°Wait, Sleipnir! Hold it!¡±
Raymond Collishaw¡¯s hat and goggle got stuck on his face when he was shoved down. By the time he pushed it back, he could see a certain Canadian Witch¡¯s raven dress flapping in the wind. She stood up on her to legs and quickly bolted up the three decks of the wings as if starting to scale a tall mountain.She climbed her way to the top, to roll across the surface to fight this German Spellcaster on the same level.
¡°D-don¡¯t be so reckless! We''re still 8000 feet in theair!!¡±
¡°Have no fear, Ray-Ray! For I am a professional Canadian Witch!¡±
¡°You adding ¡®professional¡¯ worries me already!¡±
¡°HOW RUDE!"
¡°Stille! Dummkoff frau! Fallen sie von diesem flugzeug!"
<< Shut up you d*mn whore and fall off! >>
The German Spellcaster girl quickly rolled to her feet. She swung her wand to down her legs while muttering a foreign incantation. Something sparked across the sole of her boots and threads of electricity danced from her boots and to the metal surface of the deck.Whenver Raymond Collishaw had to turn to avoid hitting a reckless Albatress with a magic pilot, this German didn¡¯t fall off.
¡°Oh yeah!? two can play at that game! VASH-KIVA!¡±
The Canadian Witch flicked her wand to her side. From her dress, what looked like a tail made of raven feathers poked out from behind her. It then thrusted itself into the wing, piercing through the plating. From afar, they resembled cables used to anchor heavy machinery from flying off the ground.
¡°SLEIPNIR! THE H*LL!? DON¡¯T YOU HAVE MAGIC THAT DOESN¡¯T HURT BLACK MARIA LIKE THAT GERMAN GIRL!?¡±
¡°RAYMOND COLLISHAW! JUST WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON!?¡±
¡°Tot umfallen!¡±
<< Drop dead >>
¡°GEH!¡±
The Canadian Witch felt something that made the hair on her head started to flutter and puff. She quickly stepped to the side and avoided a lance of pure lightning from cutting through her proud chest. With a scowl, she retaliated by clenching her bare hand and waving her wand around.
She gathered the feathers from her dress to fly up and around her, collecting to form something like a stick. With one tap of her wand, the whole thing became a sharp black sword.The German Spellcaster followed suit, and she clapped her hands together to forge this blade made out of leaping lightning.
¡°Are you two serious!? Why do you have to fight on Black Maria! She''s innocent in all this!¡±
Raymond Collishaw watched as the two girls clashed. With the German on her magnet-powered boots and Canadian Witch on her feather anchor, they both dove at each other trying to cut each other¡¯s throats open with their enchanted swords.As much as he wanted to watch to the end, he had more pressing matters to do. While he was shooting down the clumsy Fokkers and Albatroses that either flew into his line of sight or ended up just diving into the ground, he noticed something.
There was one Fokker who was coming in close to him. Unlike before, this one wasn¡¯t trying to hit him in a T-bone collision. Rather, it was trying to brush up along side his plane, and push into him. Like two cars racing on the highway. The pilot choked on his breath when he saw the Fokker¡¯s wings started to shoveitself into the frame of his craft.
The Sopwith Triplane was built to be resilient and incredible when it came to air-tight aerial maneuvers and steep climbing. However, one flaw is that the slightest structural imbalance will force the entire wing structure to cave in itself, Exactly like throwing a paper plane too hard, the wind resistance will rip it.The Fokker to his side, driven by clearly a magician with a metal wizard¡¯s cap, was frantically trying to ¡®shove the pilot into the ditch¡¯.
¡°S-Stop! If you keep this up, we¡¯ll both lose our wings! Aren¡¯t you scared of dying!¡±
The pilot said something in German. It sounded like a cheer. To the Canadian Pilot¡¯s dismay, the German Spellcaster on the Sopwith wing cheered with him. This wasn¡¯t going to end well.
¡°Sorry about this! But you leave me zero choices to work with! Hup!¡±
The Pilot then turned his plane, sharply. He had no choice but to flick the wing of his plane to slap away the ¡®hand¡¯ reaching out from the Fokker. This caused both wings to dent, however the Sopwith Triplane survived the damages. The Fokker however, had its one wing-flap jammed. The pilot in the enemy craft couldn¡¯t pull out and ended up spiraling. Soon, he would hit the ground without recovery.Raymond Collishaw uttered a small prayer on his behalf.
¡°NUWOOOOOH! R-RAY-RAY! WH-WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT BARREL ROLLING!¡±
¡°...Oh cr*p! I forgot about her!¡±
The Black Mariawas in a full 90 degree turn, swerving around to avoid colliding with several Fokkers that lost control or accidentally broke their propellers when they struck into an ally or enemy plane. It was here that the Pilot could see a familiar girl falling right past his face, her hands and feet kicking like a dropped salmon.
"S-SLEIPNIR! SORRY!"
¡°NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA¡ªGUFFFFGGG!¡±
Fortunately, the Canadian Witch''s ¡®harness¡¯ made of raven feathers was still anchored into the wing. Maybe she knew of the pilot¡¯s habits and was adding extra security to her fighting style. At first she had a straight free fall, and when her line snagged to catch her she let out tight gasp from her gut. By accident, the yank on her abdomen knocked the wind out of her and she dropped her blade. It turned into a scatter of feathers.
¡°H-HELP ME! HELP ME! I-I C-CAN¡¯T CLIMB UP THE¡ªOH MY GOD IT¡¯S TOO HIGH UP!¡±
¡°D*MN IT YOU USELESS WITCH!! I KEEP TELLING YOU, NEVER LOOK DOWN YOU HAVE ACROPHOBIA!!¡±
The Canadian Pilot clicked his tongue as he tried to stabilize the plane from 90 degrees to 45 degrees. He thought the German girl would have fallen off as well, but he realized just how effevtive the magic she applied to her metal boots were. By the time he uprighted the plane, he could clearly see her total advantage over the situation. She stood upon the edge of the one wing as if a cliff and glared down at the thrashing sight that was the Canadian Witch way below her feet. The hand-carved wand made of German spruce clutched in her hand like a loaded pistol.
¡°Auf weidersehen, birdy.¡±
¡°DON¡¯T MOVE!¡±
The German Spellcaster snapped out from her focus and she turned her head to the voice that called her out. She could see thatRaymond Collishaw had brandished his own wand to defend the flailing Witch. It was called a Smith & Wesson Model-44 Double-Action Revolver
¡°Don¡¯t do this. We can work things out. You don¡¯t have to die so recklessly!¡±
¡°Sie werden nie verstehen, was es bedeutet, ein imperium zu schutzen!"
<< Youwill never understand what it means to preserve an empire! >>
¡°No. I don¡¯t understand what your saying. But wasting your life away like cannon fodder isn¡¯t the way this war should be! Don¡¯t you have a family!? Friends? Even among your community of witches or magician!? Surely, you weren¡¯t all born out of a rock!¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡..¡±
There was this silence between two enemies of the Western Front. One was from the Allied Powers, the other from the Central Powers. They both have stood on this battlefield called Europe, in order to obtain an objective on behalf of their nation.
World Domination versus World Freedom.
Based on reason along, it should be clear as to who is the just victor in this fight. But given how blurred those fine lines were, where everything was not so white or black but a murky pitch grey¡ it was unclear who should truly deserve to win.That was why neither the Canadian Pilot or the German Sorceress could pull the trigger... nor put down their weapons together.
¡°¡Everyone wants this war to be over. Everyone wants to go home. We¡¯re no longer have the passion to die on the battlefield for our nations now, those times were buried by the end of 1914. No one wants to stay here anymore.¡±
¡°...Wer bist du genau?¡±
<< Who exactly are you? >>
¡°So please. Let Sleipnir go¡ ¡°
¡°...Tch. Sie sind ein dummkoff... Aber gerade wenn ich gewinnen will, warum ist mein herz so scher gefallen?"
<< You''re such an idiot... Yet why does my heart feel so heavy, even when I''m about to grasp my victory? >>
Raymond Collishaw swallowed his dry throat. He didn¡¯t know how much time had past, neither was he sure how much fuel he had burnt off from avoiding reckless German planes trying to tackle him in the sky. All he could think about was whether or not that German Sorceress was going to execute the Canadian Witch.
He didn¡¯t like to hurt women, even in war¡ but he knew, if one was willing to shoot they had to be ready to be shot back. The Pilot will not hesitate in pulling the trigger if she were about to cast a spell to kill.
¡°Keh. Ich habe diesen bloden krieg wirklich satt!¡±
<< I''m really sick of this idiotic war! >>
To his relief, the German Sorceress spat onto the top of his plane, and put down her killer wand. Raymond Collishaw let out a deep sigh. Then a trigger was squeezed.
*RAT-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA!*
¡°G-gebffuff...¡±
¡°¡Huh?¡±
The Canadian Pilot saw seven red pockets popped all over the German Sorceress¡¯ body. They were clearly wounds left behind a bullet being shot at2000 mphthat could slice through flesh, bone, andthe Sorceress''organs. There was look of betrayal on her face, before she threw up a mouthful of blood.
Raymond Collishaw was sure, he didn¡¯t pull the trigger on his revolver. In fact, his weapon didn¡¯t have a trail of fresh smoke and the chamber was fully loaded. As clean as it was right after production.
It was when he heard the reckless shooting for an Albatross C.III plane, the tail gunner squeezing the trigger of his Parabellum MG14 machine gun as he flew right past the Sopwith Triplane. Just like before, his aim was terrible and he kept shooting despite slashing up into the sky and hitting absolutely nothing. Somehow, the first volley was enough to cut into their fellow German who was standing on Black Maria''s wings.
Before they could realize they hit their own team member, one of Raymond Collishaw''s squadmates flying the Black Roger swooped in to shoot them down. Their tail snapped open and they lost all power to engines. But the two German Magicians were already slumped over in their seat before their plane fell 7000 feet to the ground.
¡°¡Wait¡ it¡¯s not...it''s not how it''s supposed to be.¡±
¡°Vergib mir vater... Ich bin eine schreckliche tochter..."
<< Forgive me father... I''m a terrible daughter. >>
¡°WAIT!¡±
The body that was the German Sorceress fell from the top of the third wing. Her body flipped uselessly in the air, the same way a towel would tumble from a clothing line. There were no signs or gesture to show that she was going to use some sort of exotic power to turn into a bird and fly away with the last laugh. If she was alive, it looked like she wasn''t even going to bother with using her magic to save herself.
That was why Raymond Collishaw reached out a hand, to grab her.
¡°TAKE MY¡ª¡±
Before he could say hand, the Canadian Pilot missed her fingers. She continued to fall.Yet it was in that split second, that German Sorceress with seven bullet wounds smiled at him through bloodied lips.
"Du bist...wirklich ein dummkoff...Ha...ha.."
<< You really are an idiot. >>
¡°NO! NOOOOOO!¡±
The Canadian Pilot didn¡¯t want to end on this note. He didn¡¯t want to see such a tragic conclusion. He tried to turn his plane around, avoiding stray gun fire and weaving under German Planes and other Sopwith Triplanes that were struggling not to collide into each other in the air.
But by the time he turned his gazed back on the German Sorceress¡ he couldn¡¯t find her body. There was no sign of her.
¡°¡It¡¯s alright Ray-Ray¡she¡¯s gone. She turned into an Eagle and flew off. She was laughing at you for your gullible nature.¡±
¡°¡Ah. Sleipnir! Sorry! Hold on!¡±
Pushing down a painful thought, the Pilot tipped over in his cockpit to look down. The Canadian Witch could be found dangling on her rope made of magical feathers, her legs flailing under her body. As if listening to the young man¡¯s previous suggestion, she only looked up at him, never down at the ground that was about8000 feet under her shoes.
Raymond collishaw flew away from the fight for a moment, far enough so that no stray German plane would pursue him. He would lock the plane controls with a crowbar to keep it from tipping, and he climbed out of the cockpit.Using his years of experience in crawling in and out of his plane to fix something in the engine, or to repair a jammed machine gun, he made his way over to one of the layered wings as if it were a beam on a construction site. Carefully, he started to pulled the Witch up on her own black feathered lifeline.
¡°OH MY GOD! TH-THE GROUND IS SO FAR AWAY! HOLD ME! HOLD MEEEEEE!¡±
¡°DON¡¯T LOOK DOWN, GOD-D*MN IT! QUICK, GET BACK IN THE COCKPIT!¡±
Ignoring the Canadian Witch¡¯s protest of ¡®walking on a balance beam from the top of the Empire State building¡¯ Raymond Collishaw helped to shove her into his seat before crawling inside.The space was cramped, but what he was feeling now already made him numb all over.
¡°... Hey, Sleipnir. You said that the girl turned into an eagle and flew off. Is that true?"
¡°O-of course. Magicians always have a backup plane. Otherwise, I would have fallen off your plane and become a stain on the ground. I knew your flying skills too well.¡±
¡°Sleipnir¡¡±
¡°D-don¡¯t look at me with those puppy eyes. It-it¡¯s not like you can really kill a Magician, w-we¡¯re invicible, you know. O-oh-ho-ho--.¡±
¡°¡I beg of you, Sleipnir. Tell me the truth.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡.Please...don¡¯t force a girl to tell you her honest feelings... even when she knows it will kill you deep inside."
Something struck inside Raymond Collishaw¡¯s body. He wasn¡¯t sure what it was exactly. Guilty, shame, disgust. His stomach was already flipping, and his throat started to taste of his own bile. To be honest, it was a long time since he experienced this sensation, it was almost nostalgic.
The sight of shooting down his first enemy plane right after graduating from flight school. The first sight of a limp body sitting quietly in their aircraft as it slowly tumbled. He would never forgot those first days of his time in the war... but over time, he learned to dissect those feelings in order to continue operating.
Just thinking about that girl, the German Sorceress with seven bullet holes ripping open her stomach and chest... those dissected emotions started to come back. It was overwhelming, like waking up from a bad nightmare.
"...It''s been too long, s-since I ran away from this feeling in my heart... the weight of a human life..."
His hands began to tremble, almost weak from even touching the joystick of his plane to keep it steady in the air. The anxiety he tried to kept hidden, was already showing from the fidgeting of the wing flaps.
Until a pair of small and tender hands touched his glove, and held it tightly in warm palms.
¡°...Sleipnir, you¡¯re bleeding!I''ll turn back. We have to¡ª¡±
¡°Wait, no! This¡ isn¡¯t my blood¡Darling¡it''s alright... I''m not hurt.¡±
The Pilot and the Witch fell silent between each other. It was unsure if they were taking the moment to pay respect to the fallen in the Battle of the Messine, whether they be a soldier in the trench or the pilot in the sky. Or maybe, a magician who was dragged from a peaceful life and thrown into the world wide conflict as a living weapon.
¡°Don¡¯t think about it Ray-Ray. She knew the cost. The moment she put her foot onto the battlefield, she knew the fate she would receive. In her eyes, she saw nohing but the future of her country on her shoulder. Her ending, shouldn¡¯t be a haunting memory for you.¡±
¡°¡¡±
¡°¡Besides. Just like me, she too is a Witch. A magician. A magical weapon that no one would believe that should ever exist. It¡¯s not like her nation will post her name in the newspaper and glorified her sacrifice and achievements to the world¡ To those in control, she is nothing but a grain of salt in the ocean. No one will know her¡.Just how no one would remember me if I were to fall down like her.¡±
¡°I will never forget you.¡±
¡°A-ah!? R-Ray-Ray?¡±
The Black Maria suddenly pulled itself into a sharp turn. The blowing of the wings whirled around, shifting directions, the same way when a warship turns about face into the opposite direction of the flow of the ocean. It was making its way to the battle in the sky, where there were black Sopwith Triplanes dancing around the German Fokkers and Albatross.
There was still a fight going on, both in the air and on the ground. As a solider, as a pilot, there were things one had to swallow down in order to see through to the final conclusion. No matter how dark and stained that road was... it was only right to march to the bitter end, to respect those who fell short on the path.
Raymond Collishaw knew that too well.
¡°I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re a Witch or if you can use magic. I won¡¯t forget you, ever¡ neither will I forget that girl¡ I¡¯ll carry you both, no - I''ll carry all Witches, Magicians or whatever spellusers are out there in my heart, in my memories. Your sacrifice will never be in vain to me!¡±
¡°¡Fu-fu-fu Don¡¯t make a girl a promise, if you know you can¡¯t keep it¡ but I¡¯m really happy. Thank you Ray-Ray.¡±
In the end, the Battle of Messines concluded at6:25PM, the victors were the British2nd Army. With the combined attacks of the 12th Australian Brigades, the New Zealand Artillery Regiment, the countless low-altitude bombing and gun strafe from the Alled Fighter planes, the torn and bloodied Germn 4th Army were force to retreat from their Oosttaverne defensive line.
The area would soon be broken down and re-purposed for the next Allied Operation that will occur in the early days of July.
The Third Battle of Ypres.
Entry #8 = An Honest Conversation between a Witch and a Pilot -- (Were Canadians!!)
| June 18, 1917
ReimsAllied Air Base, France
121 km fromformer Verdun Frontlines |
| The British Expeditionary Forces are attempting to push
the Imperial German frontlines deeper away from Belgium
pronvince and possibly towards Luxemburg as a start.
This means they would be transfering members fromboth
the Royal Flying Corp and the lads from theR.N.A.S to take
station up at the airfield at Verdun. It''s the closet take off
point to deliver air strikes to the Germans in the Trenches
while being able to refuel and rearm consistently.
We''re all getting ready for the big move. We''re packing
our things so we can board the train first thing tomorrow
morning, 6:00 AM sharp. However, I still have paper work
to do in order to prepare receiving new additions to the
Black Flight Squadron when we arrive at the Verdun Station.
Looks like I''m going tobe burning the midnight oil again.
~~Collishaw |
¡°H-holy sh*t, Ray-Ray. I-is that a whale fl-flying over London in the newspaper?"
"No, Sleipnir. It''s a photo of a German Zepplin. Not a magical mammal. That would be too frightening if the later were true."
Raymond Collishaw was conflicted. First, he had an asburd amount of packing left to do, and he had to finish up all the transfer documents before being shipped to the Verdun Air Field. He regret having spent the last few days working with his squadmates and the local technicians in preparing their Sopwith Triplanes to board tomorrow''s train. He realized, taking them apart and gathering the pieces in a way to make them ready for assembling when they reach the destination, was more taxing than he imagined.
That was why he wasn''t sure if he should spend the remaining half of the day to stuff his clothing, uniform, and personal memoribilia sent from his family into several trunks, or use whatever typing skills he had to finalize multiple battle reports and transfer ledges.
.......He even had to flip a coin to make the choice.However, before it could land on heads or tails, a bolt of green light shot out from no where and knocked it out of the air. Like a gunslinger doing a trick shot.
It was obvious that the Canadian Pilot would turn to the source of that stupid stunt. A beautiful Canadian Witch who was curled up on his bed, a newspaper in her one hand and lazily playing around with her ivory wand in the other.
"Can''t you just intercept my coin with your hands like a regular prankster."
"Oh please. I''ve finally find this position on your bed to be the most comforting. Don''t make me waste my hard work by getting up from my @ss and wasting energy to physically tease you."
"In other words, you''re downright lazy."
"Yes. And I''m not ashamed."
The Canadian Pilot wanted to groan, but looking at his half-written report that was wilting on his hand-me-down typewriter, there was simply no time. While he tried to adjust the length of the paper on the crank of the machine, he would hear rustling sounds coming from his bed.
As mentioned, the Canadian Witch was curled up on his bed as if it were her own. Obviously, she had herboots off and sitting nearly on the floor, which exposed her legs. They were long and full, a paradise for men who were into that part of a lady. She hide her pale skin under a pair of panty-hose that covered everything but the front of her feet and her heels (a bridal gauntlet for her feet, so to speak).
She would open and curl her toes, rubbing them together across the mattress, as if trying to entice someone. When really, she was rubbing an itch in her sole as she focused on reading the newspaper in her hand.
¡°Hmm. Says herethe whale was part of a German Bombing raid on the 17thyesterday. They hitplaces like Therberton in Suffolk, England. You should have been there to help darling."
"You say that, but it was a sudden attack. And I''m still miles away from the Cliffs of Dover and in the middle of the Western Front. There is no way any pilot on this side of the war could instantly fly all the way back in a matter of hours. Fortunately, the German Air Raid was repelled, with Sir Robert Saundby of the Royal Flying Corp shooting down a Zeppelin."
"Oooh? Do I hear a dash of admiration for this fellow? Are you suggsting that he is your mentor of some sort?"
"Kind of. I haven''t met him, but I have heard of his prowess and achievements while I was still in flight school in Toronto. Most of the techniques we learned came from his experience and books he''s written. I''ll tell you, he is a man of legend. I expect great things to come from him and the air force of the British Empire."
"Fu-fu-fu. Would you look at that, my darling Ray-Ray all starry-eyed for a celebrity. Is he cute."
"If he was still single, I will not introduce him to you. You''ll ruin his life with how lazy you are."
"HOW RUDE!"
The Raven Witch sitting on the corner of the bed ended up hopping with a mad squawk. Raymond Collishaw didn''t pay any mind to the noise she made and continued to tap on his typewritter, loudly.
"Hmph...but still, you should be proud of yourself more. You''re practiclly one of the best pilots in this messy war. Surely you''re a celebrity to some."
"Not really. As much as I have flown over 30 missions with decent results, I have no doub the higher ups in the Royal Flying Corp are mulling over the fact someone from the Royal Naval Air Service is one upping them. It would make sense they would cover my name up in black ink as a way to vent out their frustration."
"Y-you really don''t mean it. That people of such high authority would be jealous of you doing all the hard work in this war?"
"Well, you still have to give credit to the lads on the ground, fighting in the trenches and in the Armored Division for getting the job done.My job like any other pilot is to keep the sky clear of the enemy, be they German, Austrian, Hungarian, or even the Ottomans. And besdies I''m no Billy Bishop if that''s what you''re suggesting. "
"Oh-ho, do I detect a jealous tone in your words, darling? Surely you must not be happy with your current situation in terms of popularity."
"To be frank, I was kind of jealous at first that Billy Bishop would be the one to receive a heroes welcome everytime he landed in an airbase whereever he went...but when I start to see how much crazy French and British fan girls faun over him, stalking his every move, hiding in the back of his plane before take off, or even stealing his clothing........ I''m very glad that I''m not that popular enough to have girls chase after me like zombies."
"..................Why do I feel like my existence has no meaning to you. Wh-what exactly the h*ll is this beautiful Witch to a young man like you? Am I just a rag doll that sits on your desk and collects dust!?"
"....................................................................*Type* *Type* *Type*"
"LOOK AT ME WHEN YOU''RE AVOIDING THE CONVERSATION, RAYMOND COLLISHAW!"
The said Pilot could hear his bed complaining as a certain Raven was hopping mad up and down the springs. Any more pressure, and he was sure something would shoot out from the mattress and hit someone like a bullet. He prayed to God that it will not hit his typewritter as he was almost finish with his10th report out of the 15.
As if realiing her offensive to get the young man''s attention had zero effect, the Canadian Witch ended up mulling over her own frustrations as she curled up on the bed. She then picked up someting that she had been working prior taking a break with the newspaper, making clattering noises as if to portray her anger, wrath, and frustations in a musical form.
¡°What are you doing, by the way? Sleipnir? You''ve been at it since morning when I went out to dismantle the planes. Are you playing crib with yourself?¡±
¡°Knitting. I¡¯m knitting. Now shush, before I forget what number I¡¯m reciting.¡±
¡°I thought you said you were knitting.¡±
¡°I¡¯m preparing my Divinitation class magic by reciting the Lord¡¯s Prayer. I easily lose count after 10, so I use knitting as a way to remind me what number I have recited at. Please, let me chant in peace. I¡¯m at 739 and I still have a long way to go!¡±
¡°Magic sounds troublesome. Should I be happy that I¡¯m normal.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t make me punch you when I¡¯m memorizing about the part about God giving us our daily bread!¡±
The Canadian Pilot sighed. He watched as the Raven Witch continued to fiddle with a pair of knitting sticks and spinning a rough looking wool. He didn''t know what she was making, and he guessed she had no clue what the final product in mind was going to be. So he just watched her knit, and knit, and knit, while she mumbled under her breath again, and again, and again.
"...Ah. No good, I''m sidetracking myself. I have to finish the report...Wait no, I still have a cr*p tone of packing to do...Should I work on my valise, or should I finish the last five reports....Okay, one more two page report, then I''ll start packing."
"La-la-la. Oh how I need not worry. I have several spells that help me store my belongings into a burse the size of a melon. Oh-ho-ho. Why, if I need extra room all I have to do is sing Bippity-Boppity-Boo on a pumpkin and I have an instant luggage carrier!Oh-ho-ho. It''s a wonderful day to be a magician~?."
"I''ll cut your rations."
"Wait! No! I''m super, super sorry! I-I didn''t mean to sound like a pompous rich b*tch! Y-you can punish me, th-that doesn''t involve hitting my @ss, s-so please don''t cut off my life line! I-I can''t survive on my mana as food!"
The Canadian Pilot kept a frown on his face, so he that he doesn''t show signs of weakness and break open a coy grin. Seeing how the Canadian Witch shattered her own pride and was begging for him to not remove her only reason to live (#FoodIsLife), he felt his heart had been satisfied for being pushed around. Of course, he wasn''t an evil man. There was no way he would continue to take advantage of this foolish Raven Witch.
So he made her swear that she would be a good girl and either do her daily chores or offer charity to the local church every Sunday.
"Sniff...Ray-Ray is so cruel! M-my payroll in this war is already nonexistent!"
"Right, what should I begin to pack? I wonder."
"L-listen to this Witch darliiiiiiiiiiiiiing (TxT)!!"
Raymond Collishaw rubbed his neck as he focused on the open valise briefcase he had open on his desk. There were a lot of things to pack, other than his spare uniform. To put it frankly, he had been collecting various memorabilia that he had stumbled across the war.
Some gifts from the living, some articles left from the fallen, books or journals left in villages that were evacuated when the war broke out, to evena pocket book of the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes translated in German. Of course, all those alone was already worth one valise breifcase. What about his military equipment, books on flying maneuvers, standard issue Art of War - British Empire edition? Or even hisSmith and Wesson Model-44 revolver and its .44 caliber bullets? ...What about his favorite desk lamp - wait, no that was already there when he moved into this officer quarter...But they wouldn''t know...Naaah. That''s not a Canadian thing to do. Most likely he''ll just change the flickering light bulb for a new one and give it a good shine before leaving, yeah something like that.
At this point, he really wished there was a more convenient way to move his things. Maybe, after the war he¡¯ll start up a moving company that uses automated machines or even robotic automatons¡ ah, no good, his mind was day-dreaming again.
¡°...By the way, Sleipnir. I don''t really understand magic that well, but why is there a need to ''prepare'' your powers. I thought Wizards like in the story books could cast their spells as convenient as shooting a pistol?
¡°Then tell me, my dear soldier, do you not need to load bullets into your rifle before you can kill the enemy.¡±
¡°¡Ah.¡±
¡°You just realized that!? Seriously!? Wh-what have you been doing for the past three years in this war!?¡±
¡°Sorry. My bad. The airfield maintenance crew normally resupply ammunition to Black Maria while I either rest or tend to other matters¡ I haven¡¯t load a belt for into a Vickers machine gun since my training days on the HMCS Niobe¡ I never really thought it now that you mention it.¡±
¡°The way you throw out everything unnecessary in your brain and focus on the fighter plane in front of you is frightening, darling.¡±
¡°¡But that still doesn¡¯t explain how you can acquire power to throw fireballs and drop ice hammers from knitting.¡±
¡°L-like I said! Knitting isn¡¯t the ritual I¡¯m trying to prepare myself with! It¡¯s physical method to keep my attention from wandering when I¡¯m doing long and repetitive tasks necessary to set up the magical formulas for my spells in battle! H-have you not been listening to me!?¡±
The Canadian Witch was hopping mad. With how she was yelling and throwing her knitting arms up and down, she could be seen bouncing on the flimsy springs of the Pilot¡¯s bed. Somehow, it didn¡¯t enhance the level of rage she was trying to express at face value.
It only made her look like a jack-in-the-box that no one bothered to shove back into the box.
¡°Magic isn¡¯t about hocus pocus or alakazam. Those are cr*p grown-men use to trick little children at birthday parties with sleight of hand and simple distraction! We Magicians have to eat the right food, repreat specific chants every day, and often have to conduct research into the magical lore which we specialize. Sometimes, most Magicians or Alchemists have an annual evaluation where they have to show their superiors the level of research they acquired in regards to their magic. It¡¯s like what normal people do to recertifiy their license to carry a weapon.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
¡°Oh, like an eye test.¡±
¡°Darling, come over here. My hands are occupied so I need to kick you.¡±
The Canadian Pilot stared at the Witch¡¯s legs. She was wearing an expensive looking panty-hose stocking that covered everything but the front of her feet and the back of her heels, but everything else under her fluffy skirt woven from raven feathers. As a Gentlemen of the Canadian Expeditionary Forces,he stopped his imagintation at the point past her knees, right below the thighs.
¡°R¡ªRay-Ray! D-don¡¯t stare at me like that! I-I¡¯m not sure if I should squeal in fear or shiver with joy! D-don¡¯t make my feelings so conflicted!!¡±
¡°Ah sorry. My bad. I was looking at he cockroach on your leg. But seeing how occupied you are, I¡¯ll tell you later.¡±
¡°GYAAAAAAH! COCKROACH! KILL IT WITH FIRE! KILL IT WITH FIIIIIIIIIIRE!¡±
¡°Please don¡¯t use your magic in my room.¡±
The Canadian Pilot was bored. He thought he should be working hard and packing, but somehow having used the whole morning to take aprt the wings and some parts of the Black Maria for easier storage on the train took a toll on his body and muscles. He ended up procrastinating.
To make sure he didn¡¯t accitentally drifted off into a nap, he tried to keep himself busy. For example, poking fun at a Certain Witch.
¡°...Wh-where is the corpse of the cockroach.....Geh--!? Raymond Collishaw, y-you did that on purpose!¡±
¡°Oh. Sorry. I mistaking that swinging pocket watch on your hips as a cockroach. My bad.¡±
¡°¡¡¡.Oh¡ right.¡±
¡°Hmm?¡±
Something changed in the tone. The pilot was expecting to receive an artillery barrage of insults, curses, or maybe even a pseudo-hex. Instead, he gained silence. As if the cannons on the hills behind the trenches were about to fire¡ but nothing happened for two hours. That moment no one was sure if a ceasefire was called or they ran out of ammo.
Raymond Collishaw turned his attention to the Canadian Witch. She was quiet, staring in fact. She was holding onto the small pocketwatch she had clipped to her belt over her raven dress. It looked ull, as if well worn over time with noticble scars and scratches. What kind of scratches ¨C bullets, shrapnel, swords, or even plasma burn from flame magic ¨C the Canadian Pilot wasn¡¯t sure. If he was a Forensics officer, he wouldn¡¯t be a pilot now would he.
The Witch gently held the pocket watch in her palms, staring longly at it. As if it were her lover.
¡°Do you need some private time with your trinket?¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡.¡±
¡°Wow. It must be very important to you to not react to that.¡±
¡°It¡¯s an heirloom. From my two mothers.¡±
¡°¡...............Right.¡±
When the Raven Witch suddenly mention the word ''Mothers'' the Canadian Pilot started to think about his own family...No, he didn''t have two mothers. One father, one mother. Otherwise, the boys or men in his neighborhood wouldhave thrown stones athim out of jealousy.
He brought up familiar faces in their mind, even touching a hand to his heart as a way to reaching out to them. Of course, they were thousands of miles overseas back in his home nation, the Dominion of Canada.
Being by himself in the Western Front, he would often try and imagine scenarios if he was back with everyone''s side... watching them grow, how they would laugh with him - or at him depending on their preference - maybe he might get one of two of his siblings to go into flight school and become a commercial pilot...No, that''s too far into a future where aviation technology was just starting.
At the very least, Raymond Collishaw would try to write to his mother back home. However, due to the fluctuation of the Great War, what used to be an Allied Front could be occupied by the Central Powers and vice versa, it was difficult to provide a stable address for his loved one. Not to mention, the price for postal has hiked up to 50 cents!!...That''s a lot on a pilot''s salary in 1917!
... Also, his family like to write in 10 page lengths. By the time he replied with three, his hand was already cramping. Sigh.
¡°Hey, Sleipnir. Could you tell me more about your family?¡±
¡°Alright darling. But I hope you don¡¯t mind if I wipe your brain from the sensitive information afterwards. We are Witches after all. Your government won¡¯t like it if you end up believing we magicians are real.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡Sleipnir.¡±
¡°Pffft. You caught me. I don¡¯t have that kind of absurdly powerful magic. I can¡¯t even clean the memory of a squirrel''s brain from what it had for breakfast. Oh-ho-ho.¡±
The Canadian Witch giggled and she curled up across the bed with her back to her wall, cradling the small and worn out pocket watch in her dainty fingers. A small smile rolled across her lips as she pulled up her legs to herlovely chest. From one angle, she looked like a fetus seeking the warmth of her mother¡¯s wombs¡ or¡ both mother¡¯s wombs. From another angle - gravure.
¡°I was bornon Bell Island, in the independant colony of Newfoundland. Although I wasn¡¯t born as a Canadian, my family ended up moving to Prince Edward Island to raise me.¡±
¡°Why? Were they like my parents who hoped I could go to Britain to receive a college degree?¡±
¡°No. It was more complicated than that. They had one too many drinks, got hot and heavy, and they ended up shooting more than magic all over the town. Worse, they picked the night holding a festival as their wedding anniversary... Ahem.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡.¡±
¡°Yeah. They said it was a messy night, and I was only what 5 years old while I watched them from the front porch. The second they sobered up and realized the damages they¡¯ve done, they just up and swept me into their arms and booked the first steam ferry from St. John to Sidney, Nova Scotia and fled.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡.D*mn¡ That sounds exactly like how my parents had my baby sister,Inez¡±
¡°Our parents are a bad influence, Don¡¯t you agree?¡±
Raymond Collishaw felt like giving her a high five. However, she was on the bed and he was at his desk. The distance between the boy and girl was about a good 2 meters. Both of them were too comfortable in leaving their seats, that or they were too lazy to move and touch each other¡¯s hands... Most likely the latter.
¡°And you grew up in Prince Edward Island. How was it like there?¡±
¡°Cold. It was so cold. Every day, I would wake up to see these icicles hanging from the corners of our room. Despite how sharp they look, the way they magnify and bend the light around them always caught my eye. At that time, they were the cheapest Kaleidoscope I could play with during the cold season.¡±
¡°Already at a young age you were a crafty girl. That explains who you can hide so many things in your clothing. Like your wand and your pouches.¡±
¡°Darling. I¡¯m in a good mood right now. Don¡¯t make me leave my comfort zone and drop kick you.¡±
¡°Hmm. I¡¯ll do my best Milady. Yes, I will. Hmm.¡±
¡°¡Ray-Ray¡you¡¯re still bullying me.¡±
The Canadian Witch looked like she was going to cry, but the look of her dreamy smilie made it difficult to believe if she was upset or reliving a heartfelt moment.
¡°I never had any friends. I was born a Witch and my parents taught me magic. Even back in Newfoundland, I couldn''t show my powers to other people. I wasn¡¯t allowed to use even my Healing Spells to cure wounds or sickness in others, no matter how much good I wanted to. But...¡±
¡°Hm. Looks like your rebellious spirit was an early bloomer.¡±
¡°You¡¯re right. I went behind my mothers back and helped a little old lady who lived in a cottage down the hill from us. Her cat got bitten by a stray dog. I ended up using my Presdigitation Spell to zap that mutt.¡±
¡°¡Wait. You killed a dog? Y-you were that violent at that age!? A-and I haven''t shot my first deer until I was 12!¡±
¡°What are you talking about, darling? Presdigitiation is a level 0 spell that I can use to shoot sparkling lights or clean up dirty tables. It¡¯s not at all lethal, you didn¡¯t know that?¡±
¡°Sorry. The last time I attended magic school was¡.. I don¡¯t know, a previous life. Yes, the Aeon Dynasty of the Fourth Burning Sun and Red Sister Moon. But I''m a different man now in this new world, I''ve reincarnated as a Pilot from the Dominion of Canadain the 20th Century''s Great War!!¡±
¡°Har, har. Very funny. Wait until I level up and create an Ice Automaton to Judo throw you!¡±
¡°Then what happened¡ to the cat and the old lady?¡±
¡°Well. When she saw I used magic to scare off the dog, she wanted me to do something about her injured cat. I was na?ve, I ended up using a healing spell to cure the poor creatures wound. That was my mistake.¡±
¡°She called the Constables on you?¡±
¡°Worse. She used my body! The old woman coerced me with her sweet smile and god-d*mn addicting apple pie to help her to fix everything in her house! The heat stove with the loose steam pipe! Splitting piles of wood for her with an axe that could swing itself! Repairing the cracks in the water well and clearing out the loose leaves and pigeon droppings around the well edge! Leaks in the bath tub and sink, changing her lightbulb--She practically treated me as a convenient tool that could automatically cure all of her problems....uuuh."
"S-Sleipnir. Y-you''re shuddering...D-don''t tell me, after you did all that she...Oh no."
"Yes! She did! She made me wear all sorts of emberassing dresses she made for her granddaughters! Th-the old granny told me they all ran away everytime she pulled it out and hoped before she left this world she could see them being worn...I-I don''t know what was her profession before retirement, b-but now that I look back - those ''dresses'' weren''t at all appropriate for woman of any age to wear as a hobby!"
"......................Oh."
"Why do you have this diappointed look on your face, darling? Should I really crawl out from my comfy spot and scratch your eyes out?"
"Sorry. Sorry. I was thinking of something along the lines of Hansel and Gretel."
"If she stuffed me with her ridiculous amount of apple pie to fatten me up for dinner, do you seriously think I would be talking to you in the middle of the Western Front in 1917!?"
".....................And then?"
"D-don''t avoid my judgment! Tch! What else do you think!? The moment the wrinkly old lady had her way with me, she sent me back without so much as a penny for candy or ice cream! I was so tired, so exhausted from being a good Samaritan, that by the time I came back home to have my mothers yell at me, I passed out before reaching the front porch! Gug, I was out cold for five straight days!"
¡°¡¡¡¡¡.How old were you again?¡±
¡°6 and a half. My mana pool was sh*t at that time.¡±
¡°Yikes.¡±
The Canadian Witch groaned, yet she kept her smile al the way through every ounce of air released from her throat. It was as if the memory was so bitter, she ws going to cry with twisted laughter.
¡°I then realized that if people didn¡¯t hate you for magic, they will take too much advantage with my abilities¡ My parents ended up using a strong memory wipe spell and undid my hard work to make sure nothing restarted her memory... And did me a service of burning those emberassing clothing that no woman should ever wear...Well...save for one see through robe that one of my mothers had a liking to.¡±
¡°¡........They must have been very mad.¡±
¡°Yes. They locked me inside a closet, stuffedit in a cave in Thunder Cove beach, and put a boulder over the entrance. They thought the bad ending for Merlin was a good enough punishment for me to reflect on my actions. Along with the weather at Prince Edward Island, being trapped inside during the Winter months was hard."
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡.Months?¡±
¡°Long story, but my two mothers were really, really mad that I used magic behind their backs.¡±
¡°¡¡..¡±
¡°Sigh...Sniff...¡ Okay. Your turn now.¡±
¡°For what?¡±
¡°Show and tell, silly. I mean, this beautiful woman just opened up her heart and her dark past to you. Would it not be fair for you to tell her something about your childhood?¡±
"...................................................................."
¡°¡Ray-Ray?¡±
"................................................... *Type-Type-Type-Type-Type* *Ding* *Type-Type-Type*."
Raymond Collishaw suddenly woke his ''day dreaming''. He suddenly felt invigorated to push aside his procrastinating half, and go back straight to work. Packing can wait, he still had a number of reports to write. It will take hours, but that''s fine.
So long as it could act as a wall to hide his own insecurities, then it was just fine--
"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
"GUWOOOOOOOOOOH!?"
Unfortunately, pretending nothing happen and continuing to work on his typewritter wasn''t as effective as a 50 meter stone wall that surrounded a city. Of course a certain Canadian Witch would pounce on him like a raven to a salmon in the river.
"Raaaaaaaay-Raaaaaaaaaaaaaay."
"W-wait! S-Sleipnir! L-let''s n-negotiate a truce first! I-if someone walks in an-and sees you sitting on my waist, wh-what would th-they think of me!? D-don''t give us Canadians a bad name!"
"I. Don''t. Care."
The Canadian Witch sat on the young man''s waist to lock down his center of gravity. To make the atmosphere even more violent, she had his wrist pinned down to the ground with her own hands. A dangerous glint sparkled in her eyes, her long black hair slipping off her shoulder like a menacing shroud.
She had the look of a crazed lover peeking through a mail slot in the door or something just to say good night... shudder, shudder.
"...You will tell me. Everything about yourself. From when you were a fetus, to the day your mother spend hours in labour, how you grew up, what your life was, where were you raised, and how you eventually achieved the status of Lieutenant."
"..............I...if I wrote this book for you, e-every tree in Canada w-would be in jeopardy, S-sleipnir."
"I DON''T CARE! TELL ME! TELL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
"UWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!?"
In the end, the Canadian Pilot who have flown over 30 missions and shot down a considerabe amount of enemy planes, was powerless to an angry beautiful woman - a weakness amongst most men really.
If this was an interrogatoin, there were only three things a capture soldier or pilot could share with the enemy. Name, rank, and serial number.
"No! D-don''t try and b-bite my neck! I-it will leave a mark and it''s super awkward to explain to the lads when there''s no girls around here o-other than the local nuns! I-I am Raymond P. Collishaw! B-born in B-British Columbia, Do-Dominion of Canada!M-my father is J-John Edward Co-Collishaw and he started his life in the Yukons as a g-gold miner! M-my mother is Sarah C-Collishaw, formerly Jones and she keeps refusing to tell me her profession on account it being not interesting to tell!"
"AND!? AAAAND!?"
"Gueegh!? I-I have six siblings! Stanley, C-Cicely, H-Howard, I-Inez, Clyde, Herb! W-we all grew up on a small farm a-at the e-edge of town and the local neighbor love to drop by to buy5 cent c-chiken eggs from Eliza, th-the family hen!!"
"WHAT WAS YOUR DREAM AS A CHILD! GO ON! I WON''T LET YOU GO UNTIL YOUR MEMORY STRIP DOWN TO THE LAST IMAGE!"
"I-I ALWAYS DREAMED OF BECOMING A MAN IN SPACE, B-BUT THAT WAS TOO EXPENSIVE! SO-SO I WANTED TO BE IN THE ROYAL CANADIAN NAVY, BUT THEY DIDNT ANSWER MY LETTERS! TH-THAT''S WHYI ENDED UP BEING A PILOT!"
"MOOOOORE! GIVE ME MORE! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!"
"PLEASE DON''T MAKE IT SOUND LIKE THIS IS A TORRENT LOVE AFFAIR! I SURRENDER! I SURRENDER TO YOU ALMIGHTY WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST!"
Please don''t give up, Raymond Collishaw! You still have World War 2 to fight in!
"WHAT THE H*LL DID YOU CALL ME YOU LITTLE BRAAAAAAAAT!?"
"NICE WITCH OF THE NORTH! NICE WITCH OF THE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOORTH!"
[SIDE STORY] The Mummy Girl in the Mail Box__SuezCanal
¡°Hi~~~¡î! I¡¯m your firendly neighborhood mummy girl, Mesopotamia-33!! I¡¯ll be your magical partner during the campaign against the Ottoman Empire! Nice to meet you~¡î!¡±
¡°Nuwooooh! M-miss! P-please p-put on a regular dress! Y-your skin is exposed in too many dangerous areas! A-as a Canadian and gentlemen of the British Empire, I-I seriously don¡¯t know where to look!¡±
¡°Heeeey. Why do I have to wear something as stuffy and tight as a full corset and skirt. It¡¯s over 30 degrees out here in the Suez Canel. Do you want me to turn into ashes?¡±
Raymond Collishaw had been transferred to the combat front in the Middle Eastern theatre. This meant he will be facing the Ottoman Empires for the next few months of the year 1918. As much as a majority of the influence of said empire are losing ground, they were still adamant in holding key fortresses and ancient castles as their key defensives.
Under the guidance of the famed British Officer, Lawrence of Arabia, the pilot and his Black Flight Squadron will work along side the Australian Flying Corp in a joint operation in conducting air attacks and bombing raids to cripple the Ottoman garrisons and supply line. The Desert Tactician believed that by ruining their reserve armies, ammunition depot, and their supply trains would surely drive the Ottoman Empire into a corner and raise their hands in surrender. That was the hope
Normally, Raymond Collishaw would be seen being dragged around by a certain Canadian Witch. However, she had been temporarily re-assigned to assist the Italian Druid Circle fighting Austrian-Hungarian Magician in the Ortler Alps. He was told the Canadian Witch Corp would be providing him someone who specialized in desert-based magical combat.She also was an Egyptian immigrant before the war started so she would be more familiar with the area than most Canadian Witches would.
The Canadian Pilot was supposed to be meeting with her today, his new partner in the Middle Eastern campaign.
A mummy girl.
She showed up by popping out her lovely body from a 30 cm by 30 cm parcel box that he was holding onto. Roughly the size of a gaming cube. She greeted his wide eyes with open arms and a fluffy smile.
"Holy sh*t! Th-the Jack-in-the-box was a girl the entire time!? M-my brain hurts from this revelation all of a sudden!?"
"No! I''m not a toy! I''m really a Witch! I just had to turn my body into sand so it''s easier for me to ship myself across long distances! Do you know how uncomfortable it is to ride on a camel!? They''re one of the many reasons why I left Egypt and moved to Saskatchewan! Their two humps alwaysleaves terrible rubbing-burns on mythighs!"
¡°Miss. Miss. I-I appreciate how bold you are and breaking the tradition o-of English etiqoutte, but as a soldier, a gentlemen, and not to mention a single man, th-the amount of skin you''re exposing is too much for my heart to handle!¡±
¡°Oh come now, don¡¯t be such a spoiled sport, hey? I mean, Cleopatra was practically showing 99% of her body skin to her people to the point where they would wake up with a newfound invigoration. Why, they had to spend the first waking hours in the morning chopping wood to vent out their frustration before they could go about their basis normally. It would be confusing for my mana if I were to wear this large bulky dress on top of my bandages anddrag this ridiculous fanny pack with my hips!¡±
¡°Wh-what do you think this year is? The 1800s!? The French Revolution era? Th-those contraptions are obsolete for many years! Th-this is the 20th Century warfare for crying out loud!¡±
¡°Heeeeeeh. Hey, hey. Are you saying that a big man like you is scared of a naked girl.¡±
¡°Yes! Yes! Yes!¡±
¡°¡.No you can¡¯t touch anything. Not even the sand in my pockets¡î.¡±
¡°Y-you¡¯re not even wearing any pants!¡±
Raymond Collishaw was a pilot, so all he had to do was flying his plane into battle, do some barrel rolls, and shoot down whatever enemy aircraft he could get in front of his crosshairs.At most, he could charge someone with a rifle and bayonet, only if he felt lucky.
However, he was the type of guy who was still not used to womenbeing...so...well, like this Mummy Witch. She practically had her entire chocolate-tanned skin covered in nothing but pure white bandages coiled around her arms, her hips, and part of her well toned abdomen.
The lady in the box gave a small huff, before she climbed out of the 30 cm by 30 cm parcel as if it were a sidecare of a motorcylce. When she touched her bare feet across the concrete of the airfield, she let out a relaxing sigh upon feeling the blistering heat warm her toes and her heels. With long thing legs, they were also wrapped with bandages at various height and length. If you look at her with the right tilt of your head, her clothing did kind of resemble a uniform that was torn up from artillery fire.
The Mummy Girl gave her body a quick stretch as if she had just woken up from a cat nap, and stood next to a certain all Black Sopwith Triplane that was parked on the airfield she was standing on.
¡°Again, nice to meet a fellow Canadian in the hot deserts of Saudi Arabia! I''ll be your partner for the month, so let''s put on a good show together¡î!"
¡°D-don¡¯t make it sound like we¡¯re married couples! The fact you can contort your body into a tiny box and wearing next to nothingcompared to an average woman from Englandis just too much for me to comprehend. G-give me a minute to calm my heart!"
¡°Fuuu. Why are Englishmen so stuck up? Times are changing you know that? Horses are kicked out by the gangs of automobiles, thousands of people could cross paths longer than the silk road with one train ride, and you''ve all built killer flying machines to rule over the skies like warbirds. And don''t get me started when it comes to the complexity of those German Umbrellas that swim under the water throwing rockets at ships."
"...............U-Boat. I think you''re trying to say U-Boat...And torpodoes would be the correct word for missiles that could move under the water. Rockets would just fizzle out from wet powder."
¡°Hmm. Tomato. Potatoe. What¡¯s the difference?¡±
¡°A huge difference!¡±
The Canadian Pilot tried to calm down. As much as he agreed it was freakishly hot in this part of the Suez Canal in Egypt, he was unlikely to follow his fellow squadmates example to strip. Number one, he wasn¡¯t confident with hisnon-existent six-pack body like the rest. Number two, he would feel vulnerable. Number three, although he was Canadian his bloodline still ties back to Liverpool, England. He shouldn''t be throwing off his top to show off his bristling muscles at the drop of a hat.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
It¡¯s not like he had bulging strong arms passed down in the family for generations or something. No!
¡°So are you going to give this mummy girl a ride or what? I''ve never been on a plane before so this is going to be an exciting experience for a Witch like me.¡±
¡°W-wait. L-let my heart prepare itself¡H*ll, I¡¯m not even sure if Black Maria is ready for this.¡±
¡°Oh? You got a girlfriend. It¡¯s okay, Ancient Egyptian practice free love, so it doesn¡¯t disrupt my mana flow if we get close and intimate with more than one partner. Where¡¯s your sweetheart?¡±
¡°¡¡..Right behind you.¡±
¡°Hmm. You mean this black plane?...SERIOUSLY!?¡±
¡°Yes. Read the label on that Sopwith Triplane and you will understand.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡..I can¡¯t read English.¡±
¡°With all due respect, but how the h*ll did you graduate Canadian Witch Corp training if you can''t read English!? How!?"
"Sh-shut up! Y-your English school system is-is completely different than the English I learned in an Egyptian school! N-none of your metaphors and wording make any sense so I just use a simple Auto-Translate Perception Charm to survive! Is there a problem!?"
"You say that, yet I don''t detect a single accent in your words."
"...................."
".......Don''t tell me. An Auto-Translate Speech ability?"
"..............................Cough."
"Don''t say the reason as to why your cheeks are red is because of the heat right now. I know better. You can''t avoid a face value problem."
"I-I tried to learn! Honest! But the charm only works for either speech or reading, I can''t apply it to both or else my brain will be scrambled from negative feedback! ...Also, th-there was a time where I would diligently go to school...but...I easily lose track of time whenever I walk by my neighbor''s elk ranch and...um... ride on their back, grooming their fur... touching their antlers...aaaauuhhnn???."
"I thought so. Another Huckleberry Finn playing hooky. Only this one drools."
"This time. I understand the meaning behind those English words. Frankly, I want to punch you under your jawline. May I?"
¡°You''re a Witch who is completely different than Sleipnir. Yet, why do I feel our conversations are similar."
Raymond Collishaw tried not ot groan. It would be rude to the girl in front of him. Also, he couldn¡¯t dally too long. The day was planned for him to work along side the No. 1 Squadron of the Australian Flying Corp. In order for the aerial operations in this Sinai and Palestine Campaign to be successful, both groups had to work in a cohesive manner. It would be good idea to take the time to get to know them, and understand how they operate in combat. No need to cause any internal conflict.
Not to mention, fighting in the air in the Middle East was different than flying over France, Belgium, or even Italy. First thing, the temperature here is incredibly hot. Not only will it overload the heating system in the plane engines, but the increased humidity will distort the balance of the air and wind.
Heat spirals are helpful for an unpowered flight such as a Glider. The wings catch the rising of the hot air and they are able to ''climb a spiraling staircase'' to increase altitude. However, with powered flight, it would difficult especially when in the middle of a battle where bullets and other airplanes could collide into you. The distortion from the dune hills and earth''s crustwould surely throw off their balanced in a split second, maybe even force an engine stall if pushed too far.
"By the way, Miss Pharaoh. Have you seen the technicians managing this airfield? I was told to meet up with them so they could install a new cooling system supplied by the British Royal Engineers. And I think the lads and I need a new machine gun that is used to firing in hot climates like this place."
"...................................................."
"Is your Auto-translation thing on?"
"O-of course! I-I just...I...You wanted Pizza right? B-but isn''t that Italian food!? I highly doubt you''ll find such exotic restaurant in this side of the Middle Eastern continent!"
".................................... Thank you for the information. I will be sure to keep in mind about it and find an...alternate food spot...Sigh."
"...You just sighed. You were making fun of me, weren''t you?"
"No. Of course not. I''m just enjoying the view!"
"Hey, hey. Don''t think you can get away with double entendres. I know exactly what they are, it was the only English concept I could understand right after I moved to Canada. So you''re not allowed to stare at my body, regardless if I am intentionally showing skin to boost my offensive magic!"
"...I was talking about the Suez Canal."
"F**k. Did my Auto-Translation get garbled up again!? This is too inconvenient."
The self-proclaimed Canadian Witch who resembled a mummy princess from a long forgotten legend cursed under her breath and scratched her fluffy blonde hair. She moved her hand in a way as if to find the right channel on a radio dial. She even tapped her skull to get the right frequency.
It seemsthis Mummy Witchtruly was having difficulty keeping up with the Canadian Pilot who used a weapon that was above the level of capacity her Auto-Language Translation charm could afford.
Sarcasm.
So, Raymond Collishaw let out another sigh as he enjoyed the view of the Suez Canal, a straight resevoir that was artificially cut from Port Said to Port Tewfik. A total 120.1 miles short-cut connecting between the Mediterranean Sea to the Red Sea.
¡°¡Um¡So, about this new partnership¡How should we do this?¡±
¡°If you want a room, I know a tent no one goes to and¡ª¡°
¡°Stop. That¡¯s not where I¡¯m going."
¡°¡.Oh¡S-sorry for this strange reaction on my face. This is the very first time thata man hasn''ttried toflirt with meor pick me up to drag into the private tent I mentioned. One of them pretended to be a medical doctor and wanted to provide a full... well, body examination under my bandages. I tossed him into the Canal you''re staring at."
"...Sigh. Men."
"Said the man himself. And I got, what,over 50 cat calls. 50! That''s more than a machine gun could fire in a minute!¡±
The Canadian Pilot wanted to say 500 rounds per minute... but decided to watch the seabirds fly over their heads instead. Their cries resembled gulls, which reminded him of the coast back in British Columbia. Ah. Home sweet Canada.
¡°¡¡..As a fellow Canadian. I feel sorry for you to experience all that."
"Hmm. It''s fine. By the time I counted 23,I got tired of throwing Arabian military officials and dignitariesfrom touching my @ss. I''m now relying on a form of reverse psychology, and taking their whistles as a compliment. I think Lady Cleopatra would have wanted it."
"................Cough. About that - put some clothing on."
¡°H-hey! Hey! Whose side are you one!? Your girlfriend is not wearing anything and she¡¯s standing stark-narked on the airfield for all the men to see. How are you not bothered by that!?¡±
¡°She¡¯s a Sopwith Triplane for crying out loud! Not a real girl!¡±
¡°There, there Bessy. Don¡¯ cry. Your boyfriend didn¡¯t mean it. Why, if you want, I¡¯ll take care of you. As a practitioner of Ancient Egyptian magic, I swing both ways.¡±
¡°It''s Black Maria! And please stop rubbing your hands on my plane. The heat is spoiling the paint and it¡¯s melting off of her nose engine.¡±
¡°NYAAAAAAH! TH-THE F**K DID SHE DO TO MY HAAAAAAND! I-IT¡¯S BLACK AS COAL! GEH! I-IS SHE REALLY A MAGICIAN IN DISGUISES AND CURSED ME WITH A NEW TYPE OF POISON THAT CORRUPTS THE IRON IN MY BLOOD!? WH-WHY YOU!---I¡¯LL GUT YOUR ORGANS AND STUFF THEM IN PICKLE JARS YOU METAL WHOOOOOOOOOORE!¡±
¡°No! B-bad Mummy! S-stop molesting my plane! Bad!¡±
In the end, the gentlemen named Raymond Collishaw was fortunate to stumble onto an Arabian woman who wasvolunteering for the Arab Revolutionaries. At the Canadian Pilot''s request, she simply did what all housewife would do - smoke the Mummy girl across the back of the head with a stick used to tame wild dogs.
"Guweeeeeeeeeeeeeeh... (@x@)"
And so, the Canadian Witch who specialized inEgyptian Magic was already being carried towards the nearest hospital tent.
¡°...Wow. She even sounds like Sleipnir when out cold. What are the odds."
Entry #9 = The Letter that Shattered the Border Between Worlds -- (The Director Calls)
| ~For God, For King, and For Country~
<< CANADIAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCES >>
__LETTER HEAD__ |
|
DATE: June 5, 1917
ADDRESSEE: Lt. Raymond P. Collishaw
COMPANY: No. 10 Naval Squadron, ''B'' Flight
REGIMENT: Royal Naval Air Service
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear, Lt. Collishaw
Greetings and salutations. I am the Director of the Canadian Witch Corp.
Please allow me the honors of being the first to congratulate you on your recent promotion as Flight Lieutenant of the Royal Naval Air Service. You must be wondering right this moment, as to how I was able to receive the news right after your stepped out of your commanding officer''s chamber. Sorry, but a lady does not reveal her secrets that are hidden deep in her corset~??.
Your superiors have expressed much promise and potential in your sole person, especially after your accomplishment in the bombing operation of the Mauser Arms Works at Orbendorf on the 12th of October last year. Which is exactly why I have addressed this letter of extreme importantance, sensitivity, and confidentiality in your hands.
Magic is real. I will not tiptoe around the very truth my entire Society have been kept hidden since thecold and dark days of the Global Witch Hunt. A single letter is not enough to explain in full detail how our hierarchy works, while we survive under the shadows of your modern society.Still, I assure you ¨C I would never turn you into a toad for laughs. Only idiot Conjurers do that to show off.Don''t worry, I have found great interest in you and your ''special abilities''. Oh my, I am getting side tracked.
Due to the impact of our fellow Magicians serving the German Reichstag, their allies of the Austrian-Hungarian Kingdom and the Ottoman Empire, we have no choice but to dispatch our own Magic Agents into the European Theatre. We have broken all of our secret pacts and buried our ancient grudgesagainst your modern society, in order to provide our full support to the Allied Powerstofight our former brethen on equal footing.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
We may serve under different rules of engagement, rifles versus magic, rituals versus cannons, however I can assure you ¨C we are born servants to the British Empire and her colonies.Even in exile, we are loyal to the Crown and the Union Jack.
Given the importance of our role in this battle, we find it necessary to deploy our Magic Agents across great distances within a short amount of times. Our B.R.O.O.M. Flying protocols are useless in this warfront where the skies are dominated by your new technology in aviation and armored gliders. I will not have my Witch Corpbe sent to the slaughter house called a ''dogfight'', to be shredded by both enemy and friendly fire which they have no understanding of. They cannot even use an electric fan let alone know what a machine gun can do to their bodies.
So, we will be recruiting you to take part in our ongoing program where we assign a Magic Specialist with an experience soldier from multiple armed divisions, both British and Canadian units. She is to go wherever you go. Her identity as a Canadian Witch must remain a secret, or you will be submitted to a punishment so refine - not even your superiors haveany power to save you from.
Thus, I leave that child in your hands. She will meet with you shortly after you return to your private quarters. Please, take good care of her. She easily becomes lazy if you let her walk all over you. Know when to, pull on her reigns so to speak.
For the sake of Victory to the British Empire, we hope you will understand - there is no room for failures or objections. We will all fight against the enemy, together.
The British Magic Intelligence and I look forward to your hard work in the coming future.
Rule Britannia.
--------------------------------------
Sincerely,
~~ ADA LOVELACE
Director of the First Canadian Witch Corp.
Canadian Expeditionary Forces, Anti-Magic Division
|
"...H...how didshe.......D-did she kiss the paper to make a period!?"
[Christmas 2018] - The Holiday Traditions of a Pilot and Witch from the Western Front
¡°Hey, Ray-Ray. Tell me more about your family. What do you like to do with them during the Christmas Holidays?¡±
¡°¡Sleipnir. We¡¯re stuck in the middle of Belgium, hiding in whatever is left of Black Maria as shelter. I highly doubt this is a good time to talk about home.¡±
¡°Why not? It¡¯s already near the ending of Christmas Eve. It will be Christmas Day soon. Surely, this is a perfect time to talk about family while we wait for rescue, no?¡±
Raymond Collishaw sighed, then sneezed.
He rubbed his cold face with his leather glove, which was also cold from both the air and having dug deep into wet snow melting from his body heat. Seeing how the front of his plane¡¯s console was covered in white fluff, he took a moment to sweep it off and threw it aside.
The pilot could be found in a large black Sopwith Triplane, half-buried in the snow somewhere in a clearing of a Belgium Forest. The walls of white powder piled up about meters and meters high, like tiny white zombies dog-piling each other to scale a large wall.
The triple decker wings caved in to make a violent looking crooked V. The propellers were either mangled at a weird angle, or were snapped off from landing. The tail was missing its left rudder while it pointed at an awkward 45 degree angle up to the air like a bent fish tail. A block of snow fell away to reveal its name written in scratched gold: Black Maria.
Raymond Collishaw patted his beloved plane with a desolate sigh. And a slender hand in a black bridal gauntlet reach out to patt him on his shoulder.
¡°It¡¯s alright, Ray-Ray. You can ask for Santa to get you a new wife~?.¡±
¡°No need. If we get out of here and return back to headquarters, they¡¯ll roll out another Sopwith Triplane for me¡although, it pains me to leave behind Black Maria again and repaint the new copy of her.¡±
¡°Come now, she won¡¯t mind you falling for another plane girl. Think of it as a blessing she won¡¯t chain you even when she¡¯s gone.¡±
¡°¡Sleipnir.¡±
¡°Yes, yes, yes. That was a bad joke. I almost forgot it was Christmas Day. We should be more positive. We¡¯ll ask your Royal Naval Air Service officers to give you 10 more wives~¡î.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡..¡±
Raymond Collishaw flinched. A ball of snow fell from the top of his wing deck and landed on his forehead. He brushed the snow out of his face, before he turned to frown at the person sitting in the back seat.
A certain Canadian Witch wearing an elaborate dress made of 1000 feathers, was waving at him.
¡°BICHUUU!¡±
¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want my jacket. I¡¯m Canadian, so I¡¯m used to the cold. I can withstand the Belgium chill.¡¯
¡°Nein, nein, nein. I still have my spells and charms to keep my body warm. So long as I don¡¯t move from this spot or make any sudden actions, the passive focus I¡¯ve dedicated in holding a minor Fire Cloak Spell will not dissolve. I¡¯m perfectly warm right¡ªPIKAACHHUUUYYY!¡±
¡°¡Here.¡±
¡°Gichuu¡Th-thank you¡Sniff.¡±
The Raven Witch sheepishly took the Pilot¡¯s leather jacket and covered her bare arms and shoulder like a blanket. She tucked her long legs under it as well, like how a hamster would curl up under a warm tissue. Even with her feathery dress, it was completely useless to keep out the cold.
Specks of mystical embers fluttered around her long black silky hair and her neck, a thin fire-like coat protecting her from the sharpness of the cold temperature around her.
¡°¡¡.Are you sure someone saw your flare gun? It didn¡¯t go up that high.¡±
¡°I¡¯m confident someone saw it. We did crash land out of a battle somewhere nearby, no? It¡¯s really comes down as to who will pick us up. People who speak the Queen¡¯s English...or German.¡±
¡°¡Wh-what do you think will happen to th-this weak looking Witch i-if it was a the latter?¡±
¡°I hope you¡¯re not allergic to their dogs.¡±
¡°Oh god. The German Shephards have been fighting a lonely war. Th-they¡¯ll definitely destroy my body to sate their primal needs!¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡ I was talking about them sniffing you for any weapons or questionable goods in your dress pockets.¡±
¡°I-I know, but even your Bloodhounds back at base always have a bad habit of sniffing my @ss! I-I¡¯m not that kind of girl! Nyaaaaah!¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡..¡±
Raymond Collishaw ignored how his partner squealed like a cat from a dangerous thought in her mind. All he did was brush his two gloved hand together, and then rub them onto his 1 mm thin airmen uniform bearing his name, his unit number, and his insignia as a member of the Canadian Expeditionary Forces.
¡°¡ You still haven¡¯t answered my question, Ray-Ray.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡.¡±
¡°¡¡¡R-Ray-Ray? D-did you freeze over!?¡±
¡°Yes.¡±
¡°Ha-ha. Very funny. Now talk, or I¡¯ll decide to save you from the winter by dumping a fireball spell on you! And be warned, I can make the heat harmless, medium, or super hot as easy as tuning a f**king radio!¡±
¡°¡¡¡..Medium sounds good.¡±
¡°Ray-Raaaaaaaaay (TxT).¡±
¡°Alright. Alright¡ After all the hard work you¡¯ve done so far, I guess it¡¯s only right to tell you something.¡±
Feeling like she had won this battle, the Raven Witch smiled and curled up under the Pilot¡¯s jacket. She looked like a young girl in bed, egging her father to tell her a bed time story by pulling on his ego.
Mom tells a better story than you, that kind of hook-line-and-sinker (#FathersBeware)
¡°¡ Well¡Every year, I would take my brothers and sisters: Stanley, Cicely, Howard, little Inez, Clyde, and Herb with me to a park near the harbour front. We enjoy throwing around this lid from a round cookie can and toss it around to each other, sometimes trying to slip it under and in between each other''s legs as a goal post or try tag someone with it like a game of cops and robbers.¡±
¡°¡¡¡In the snow? At -10 Degrees!?¡±
¡°We got bored in throwing it around during summer, so we wanted to challenge ourselves a bit.¡±
¡°You seven children are frightening. E-ever heard of building a snowman like a normal boy or girl?¡±
"Yes, but I had to stop them three years ago as Stanley and Cicely were making rather... crude life-sculptures. Th-they kind of based it on ourparents when they uh... walked in on how they made Inez...Yeah, ma and pa would flip out if they saw the finished product so I had no choice but to throw hot water on it to destroy the evidence."
".......................................A....anything else?"If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
¡°Uh yeah...Um...Right, sometimes we would go down to the Millstone River, and try to fish for some Salmon that are getting ready to spawn their eggs in the winter.¡±
¡°Phew. Finally, you¡¯re all normal! Thank you Thor!¡±
¡°However, Clyde and Herb would always shove firecrackers up the @sses of sockeye salmon and watch them... well pop."
¡°RAYMOND COLLISHAW! WHAT THE F**K IS WRONG WITH YOUR CHILDREN!?¡±
¡°...Siblings...Mind you, Inez and Cicely were never happy about it. I would always yell at my little brothers for pulling off that stunt. Unfortunately, they would promise this year and break it the next¡ I ended up not taking anyone to Millstone River...Except Inez, she really liked playing with the salmons in the river, especially the mother fishes...Don''t know why she keeps touching them the same way a midwife does when checking a mother''s belly...¡±
¡°A-at least you¡¯re the sensible one!¡Hold up ¨C HOW IS THIS BLOWING OFF THE @SS OF A SALMON RELATED TO CHRISTMAS!?¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡It happens every December.¡±
¡°CLARIFY YOUR RESPONSE, MR. CANADIAN ACE!¡±
The Canadian Pilot smiled as he looked up at his plane¡¯s wings, watching the snow slip and fall off the edge when too much white powder filled the top surface. All the while ignoring the ranting of a shocked and petrified Raven Witch behind him.
¡°I-I seriously hope you didn¡¯t have a habit of kidnapping ravens and shoving up a giant dragon-boat firework up their arses as a holiday tradition too!¡±
¡°No. Of course not.¡±
¡°Thank you!¡±
¡°I would always catch one with Inez, so we can strap a message onto its leg and send it into the sky. We believed it would make our dreams come true. Like a blowing out all the candles on a birthday cake.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡.I feel violated.¡±
¡°What?¡±
¡°Ahem. Wh... what did you wish for?¡±
¡°World Peace.¡±
¡°Sorry to break your bubble, but look at where you¡¯re sitting right now? The Western Front!¡±
¡°¡Yeah. Maybe using a raven to send a wish message would have the opposite effect¡ don¡¯t know.¡±
¡°Then, what did your little sister wish for?¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡I think she wanted to become the first lady doctor from in our hometown. She even had an eye for the Obstetrician Program at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver.¡±
¡°See. Even if your baby sister has higher aspirations than you¡¡What¡¯s Obstetrician?¡±
¡°Hmm. I think it was translated as a doctor who specializes in pregnancy and labour.¡±
¡°O-oh my god!! May I have her number!?¡±
¡°She¡¯s 12 and a half right now.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t care. Making a wish with a Raven only applies to us ladies. Now, give me her number!¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡.Sh*t. What was our home phone number again?¡±
¡°RAYMOND COLLISHAW! YOU¡¯VE BEEN IN OVER 60 MISSIONS AND SHOT DOWN OVER 60 PLANES! ARE YOU TELL ME THAT YOU¡¯VE BEEN IN THIS WAR FOR SO LONG, THAT YOU COMPLETELY FORGOT THE PHONE NUMBER OF YOUR OWN HOUSE!?¡±
The Canadian Pilot busied himself with clearing the fallen snow from his planes console.
In doing so, the response p*ssed off the Witch. So she lunged at him like a burrow spider to coil her slender arms around his shoulder. From one angle, it looked like an endearing embrace. From another angle.
¡°GUWOOOOH! C-CAN¡¯T BREAAAATHE! S-SLEIPNIR! Y-YOU¡¯RE STRANGLING MEEEEEE!¡±
¡°TELL ME, YOU FLYING BEAGLE HOUND! WHAT IS THE PHONE NUMBER TO YOUR LITTLE SISTER ASPIRING TO BECOME A PREGNANCY DOCTOR!? YOU HAVE ZERO UNDERSTANDING HOW DELICATE A WITCH¡¯S BODY CAN BE WHEN IT COMES TO CHILD BEARING, ESPECIALLY WHEN 90% OF THEIR BLOOD CIRCULATION IS TIED TO THEIR MANA! WHY DO YOU THINK I HAVE TWO MOTHERS!?¡±
¡°I-I SERIOUSLY DON¡¯T KNOW HOW TO ANSWER THAT LAST QUESTIOOOOOOOON!¡±
The Raven Witch didn¡¯t give up on the interrogation and kept throttling her partner around. The Pilot could be found kicking and screaming in his cockpit as he struggled to free himself. 30 minutes later, he could see his vision going dark.
¡°¡¡¡..Bichuuu!¡±
¡°Gaaaaaag! Y-you almost killed me!?¡±
¡°Oh pish-posh. I can¡¯t even snap a twig with my two hands let alone break a man¡¯s neck. You¡¯re lying on all fronts.¡±
¡°B-breaking a man¡¯s neck, gasp, isn¡¯t exactly what I was talking about.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡I¡¯m cold¡¡.So cold¡¡¡±
¡°Hmm? You mentioned th-that you couldn¡¯t move too suddenly or else whatever, cough, magic you had to warm you will break. D-did it fail because you grabbed me? Y-you could cast it again, right?¡±
¡°Yeah¡¡¡..You¡¯re right¡That¡¡ or I already used up the last of my mana¡Any more, and I¡¯ll suffer from internal bleeding.¡±
¡°¡If you¡¯re already cold with just my jacket¡Sleipnir, you--¡±
¡°It¡¯s okay¡I¡¯ll stay still like this¡This time if I don¡¯t move, I¡¯ll really conserve body heat.¡±
Raymond Collishaw watched the same Raven Witch who interrogated him for the phone number of his young sister who planned on becoming an Obstetrician, going into a slow slump. Somehow whatever fire, vigor, or energy the Witch had left just dissolved.
As if the Belgium cold became a spiritual beast and ate it up in a crazed hunger. Even her eyes, look dulled.
¡°¡¡S¡Sleipnir¡¡±
¡°I¡¯m fine¡I¡I feel exhausted¡ this is what happens when a Witch pushes her limits to the very bottom of her mana tank¡.I¡¯ll be fine¡¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡.What do you like to do for Christmas?¡±
¡°Wh-what?¡±
¡°I said, what do you like to do for Christmas¡ with your two¡ mothers.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡Um¡It¡¯s emberassing¡¡.¡±
¡°How is it more emberassing than trying to strangle your only hope of escape, just so you could get the business card of his 12.5 year old sister striving to become a doctor?¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡..¡±
¡°¡Wow. You must be really tired. D-don¡¯t fall asleep or you¡¯ll catch more than a cold. Especially when we''re in the middle of Belgium.¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡.I¡¡I like to sing¡¡.. to my mothers¡ every year.¡±
¡°What¡do you like to sing to them, Sleipnir?¡±
Raymond Collishaw had this worried look. The more Sleipnir tried to speak, the less energy she had in her voice. She was trying to get her words out, but both the cold and the lack of her spiritual energy were conflicting each other to the point where her brain was about to shut off.
No good, he thought.If she passed out now, it will be harder to keep her warm long enough until help arrived.
To be on the safe side, Raymond Collishaw rummaged into his emergency bag again and pulled out three canisters with different colored bands. With a pistol like item, he load one canister to it and he would pull the trigger. A vivid red smoke would shoot out from the canister and into the sky.
No sooner did it leave a long trail of red clouds, he fired the other two canisters. Green. And Black. He didn¡¯t care if it send a mixed signal, being stuck out here wasn¡¯t going to help them in surviving.
"...A-as a Gentlemen, I... I''m not comfortable with this, but it can''t be helped. Steady now, Sleipnir."
Carefully, he would pull onto the limp body of the Raven Witch and move her over to let her sit on his lap. He held her close, like a cherished doll, and rested her head onto his head.
Somehow, just hearing his beating heart brought some light into her eyes, and she had this weary smile.
¡°¡Thank you¡. Darling¡. You¡¯re¡so warm¡.....¡±
¡°Would you like to sing for me? The song you would sing to your mothers? It¡ it should be Christmas dawn by now,,, right?¡±
¡°¡Ha¡ha.. Yeah¡¡.. Where should I start.¡±
¡°Anywhere you wish¡I¡¯m right here. Just say awake, I know help will come.¡±
¡°¡¡¡D¡¡Dashing¡ through the snow~?¡In a¡one horse open sleigh~?¡¡..Ah, my brain is slowing down.¡±
¡°On the fields we go. Laughing all the way~?.¡±
¡°¡Ha¡ha¡.ha¡B¡Bells on Bobcats ring~?--¡±
¡°Bobtails, Sleipnir. It''s bobtails.¡±
¡°B-bobtails¡ring¡making spirits b¡bright~?¡¡±
¡°... O-oh what fun it is to ride and sing, a sleighing song tonight~?¡±
¡°Ha-ha-ha¡I-I never knew Ray-Ray¡was a singer¡ sl¡sly womanizer¡...you...¡±
¡°¡¡..Sleipnir. Wake up. Don¡¯t sleep. Just hold on.¡±
¡°R...right.¡¡..Jingle Bells~?¡¡¡Jingle Bells¡¡jingle¡all¡¡.th¡..the way~?¡ Oh what fun it is¡ to ride~?¡ on a one¡ h¡horse open¡¡¡¡¡¡¡ ¡¡¡¡¡¡¡ ¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡ ¡¡¡¡¡¡.¡±
¡°¡Sleipnir?...Sleipnir!!!¡±
Raymond Collishaw felt this eerie silence around hm and he looked down. The Raven Witch was at her limit, the cold was starting to disorientate her already drained mind. Seeing her eyes flicker open and close, she slowly, slowly slumped into his arms. Her breathing haggard and faint.
The Canadian Pilot could only bite his lip, drawing blood¡¡. Soon, he felt his head swooning from the loss of body heat.
¡°D*mn it¡I-I can¡¯t.. black out yet¡I¡Sleipnir¡¡±
The Pilot fought off the chill from affecting his mind. Still no matter what he tried, his blood pressure was already dropping. Both bodies will enter a state of hibernation to protect themselves¡ however as they weren¡¯t bears, such self-defense mechanism will only leave them to freeze over in the open.
¡°¡Th-this¡kind of reminds me of¡that book I read after c-coming to Belgium¡¡What was it¡A¡A Dog in Flanders?¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡±
¡°¡I-it¡¯s strange¡How the book ended with giving that boy and dog hope when they saw¡ the open back door to the warm church. They could have escaped the cold and¡ save themselves¡ Geeh¡but in the end¡¡±
¡°¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡..¡±
¡°Th-they were found frozen on the steps th-the next morning... only shy by two feet from the doors.....A... bitter ending d-don''t you think, Sl-Sleipnir?"
Raymond Collishaw tried to keep talking, forcing his brain to continue running to stay away. No good, it was like the days he spent sitting in class and nodding off to the teacher¡¯s droning. For a second, he swore he heard his old school instructor talking to him the complications of physics and gravity. It was the most boring part in his life.
¡°¡¡¡¡.Sleipnir¡..if¡ this is our...ending¡¡If you believe¡ in something like reincarnation¡¡¡..l¡let¡¯s¡ be partners again¡.¡±
¡°R¡..Ray¡¡¡¡..Ray¡¡¡¡..¡±
¡°N¡no good¡I¡¯m losing...m....an......¡¡.Ah?¡±
*VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!*
The Canadian Pilot nodded off ¨C but a loud roaring of an engine snapped him awake for only 10 seconds worth.
With his wavering consciousness, he could see one, no, two, no, five different armored vans rushing into the clearing of the forest he crashed into.
Due to how blurry his eyes were, with all the snow weighing on his eyebrow and lashes, he can¡¯t see who it was. The British? The Germans? French? Austrians? He couldn''t tell.
It was until the first van veered to the left, to show the deep red Maple Leaf painted on the side of the armored truck, sporting a series of mounted Colt Model 1914 Machine gun.
¡°¡Ha¡ha¡Sleipinr¡Can you believe it? Our¡Christmas Miracle¡ is the B¡Brutinel¡¯s Brigade.¡±
The Canadian Automobile Machine Gun Brigade, First Division.
The moment Raymond Collishaw saw Canadian Soldiers and several women in both field nurse and nun dresses, he could only smile¡ and let go of the last thread of his consciousness to sleep at ease.
After saying these small words from his frost covered lips.
¡°Merry¡Christmas¡Sleipnir......¡±