Monster Breeder 208. Bird

It takes for-fucking-ever to get to the Far Reaches. Duh, they're far from everything. I get that we picked that spot so not just any damn landbound could roll up on us… but coon. Couldn't we put our main base sowhere a little more accessible?

Also, I'm seriously freezing my nips off.

Enormous peaks rise from the mists to pierce the grey sky like the talons of a vast bird of prey. Snow clings to the sharp tips year-round. If what I heard a while back is right, it should be the really craggy one. And, yes, as I approach, my eyes spy evidence of my kind.

Nests, streaks of droppings, and deep piles of bones litter the mountainside. Low-hanging clouds obscure flashes of light from the fires and lightning strikes of dueling muscle-headed idiots. I an, what are they even trying to prove? They’re each already stronger than ninety-nine percent of their brothers and sisters.

Whatever. I made it before freezing solid; perfect. Now, I can finally get back at that asshole and my bitch of a mother!

“Hey, does anyone know where Elder Grand Claw is?" I ask when I get close.

A stalagmite unfurls its wings, revealing the frozen form of a Frosthawk. Wind and Cold Attributes. Nothing special. Basically a nobody. "Around back and three crags up; can't miss him." I refuse to wait here flapping about to chat for another second and speed off in a rush. "A 'thank you' would be nice!" she calls out from behind .

"Fuck-you-very-much you frigid cunt, can't you see I'm in a hurry?"

I duck a flurry of icicles as I fly away.

Harsh winds try to sweep off the mountain as I press on. I'm shivering so hard it feels like I might shake myself to pieces as the cold seeps into my bones. Fffuck this place!

Then a warm breeze tempts offtrack for a mont. I'm freezing; it wouldn't hurt to stop and thaw out, right? I trace the hot air-current to its source and take a deep breath thick with perfu. My eyes go wide. I realize I've stumbled across sowhere I'm not supposed to be.

The fog bank before parts to reveal the Paradise Emperor's courtyard.

Flahawks form a periter of living heat lamps that keep the climate at a balmy temperature. Patrolling Rainhawks maintain a precise humidity that I can already feel rejuvenating my brittle, frosty feathers. Their work allows a lush garden full of fragrant herbs and flowers to grow even on this cold mountain. Captive Dust Bunnies test the soil and keep it fertile while Dryads ensure everything is in bloom year-round

But they're just the groundskeepers.

Exotic Harpy courtesans frolic about the place. I see so tea parties and others lifting their tail-feathers to play 'hide the sausage' with Rare birds dressed in resplendent silks reflective of their Ranks. Tch. They're not even that pretty.

Further back, a barrier of mist obscures the Emperor Bird-of-Paradise's inner court. My stomach rumbles as the sll of a banquet of unspeakable delights wafts into my nostrils. Echoes of distant music reaches my ears—the giggling of excited fools mixed with a chorus of Sirens.

There's an idea. I'm sexier than most of these idiots; I bet I could join the Imperial Harem no problem! Later, though, after I've gotten my revenge.

If I linger here much longer, I expect an Imperial Guard will catch and I'll have to explain my presence. That would be bad. I'd make an enemy of Elder Grand Claw by revealing his oversight to the Emperor—which would drastically shorten my lifespan as a result. Yeah, no way. Reluctant to leave the warmth of this place, I steel myself and turn back. Bitter cold embraces like make-up sex with a possessive ex.

Soon, I return to following the Frosthawk's directions and, sure enough, after circling around the mountain and ascending three crags, I can make out the shadow of the Elder's enormous wingspan in the fog.

"Hold it right there," a voice startles . What I'd assud to be a sheet of ice on the mountainside split and spread its wings. White-and-blue feathers, icicles hanging from his hawkish beak, and icy talons... From the look of it, he's a Fowl Blizzard—Wind, Water, Cold, and a bad attitude. "Do you have an appointnt?"

I fluff up in indignation. "No, nor do I need one. I have an urgent ssage for the Elder that he'll dearly want to hear."

He cocks his head askew, eyeing and cracking his neck like a frozen lake settling in the dead of winter. "Well. 'Urgent ssage' or not, there's a procedure for guests. Those with appointnts can go see him directly. Fly-ins have to wait until the Elder is finished with his business."

"What business does he have that can't be interrupted?" If I could just get his attention for a mont, I could get out of this cold and enjoy my revenge!

The Fowl Blizzard snorts, sending out a smattering of icicle darts that shatter on the rocks beneath . "Elder Grand Claw recently ca across a once-in-a-generation prodigy in his travels. A Sleet-Storm Siren Singer." Wind, Water, Electricity, Cold, and Song, huh? That is kind of impressive, actually. "He's offering her so pointers before presenting her to the Imperial Court."

Now that I listen closely, I can hear grunts and moans of pleasure coming from the fog. "I bet." I give him a testy harrumph. "'Prodigy,' huh? Tch, still not Mythic Rank." Despite having all those fancy Attributes, that swanky bitch is still missing that special 'sothing.' Not that it matters to .

It seems the Grand Elder is dominating little miss prodigy and has a Fowl Blizzard for a butler even though he doesn't have any elental Attributes. That's the Tyranny of Tiers for you, I guess.

"Watch your tongue when speaking of your betters. A Mythic hasn't been seen in so long, only the Paradise Emperor can say whether they're even real. An Ultra-Rare Evolutionary line is the limit of what anyone can expect to reach without a clue to the hidden requirents." Ending the digression, he gets to the point. "My job is to prevent the Elder from being inundated by trivial matters. If you don't have an appointnt, you must be a supplicant. Pass your ssage along to , and I'll do you the favor of delivering it when the Elder is in a good mood."

And miss out on whatever rewards the Elder gives out when he hears this intel?!? "~Sit on your perch and let by~" I'm slinging so exciting news; I'll take my chances with interrupting a diocre nut on a boring bitch's pussy.

I make to brush on past him, but the frosty buzzard flaps his wings, creating a gale of hail that blocks my way. But, how did he...?

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Typical Siren, thinking you're better than everyone else," he shakes his head in mock disappointnt. "This is what happens when you're used to getting your way all the ti—you ditch your manners and start trying to mind control people left and right. You must be from a tiny Harpy ho indeed if you weren't expecting a guardsman to have counterasures." He gives an icy glare as he continues, "I plugged my ears with ice the mont I sensed your heat and confird what you were. I've been reading your lips this whole ti."

My jaw falls slack.

He chuckles. "You're lucky. I won't kill you for this insult, not if you tell what you're so certain the Elder is eager to hear, and do a small kindness. See, my cock is turning blue with the cold and could use a soft, warm place to thaw out. I'm sure you could help with that."

"Fuck off."

"Careful. I might decide I'm done being gentle."

"...Fine." Damn it, he slls like a long-dead, frozen skunk. At least his wings shield from the bitter cold wind.

"Hey, I might as well know your na if we're doing this."

"...It's Canary."

Just you wait, Alex. I'll get back at you and mom for sticking in the middle of your stupid dick-asuring contest and branding a traitor. Revenge will be sweet~