Bonus Art - Feathered Hero (Plus Short Story)

Once upon a time there lived a pigeon.

Now, there was nothing special or significant about this particular bird in any way--far from it, in fact. It was but a simple woodland pigeon that lived out its days as any pigeon should; foraging for food in the forest, lazily flitting from tree to tree and basking in the warmth of the sun, and then finding somewhere to safe to snooze, to then repeat it all over again the next day.

Indeed, life was good for this bird. It had been fortunate enough to be born in a time of peace, where it could live with its feathered brethren without fear. It seemed like these carefree days would last forever. Or at least for the duration of its limited pigeon lifespan.

But, my dear reader, if you're even slightly knowledgeable of the setting of this tale...I'm sure you already know what happens next, don't you? A harsh reminder--even to woodland critters--that nothing good lasts forever.

I speak of course, of when the dreaded red devil appeared and forever changed the course of one bird's fate.

At first, it seemed as if it were a day like any other--pigeons cooed happily as they fluttered around the woodland playground they had claimed as their home. Save for maybe a slight chill in the air that was odd for this time of the year--ironically unrelated to the red terror itself--there was no sign that anything was amiss in the world.

That was until it crested the horizon. And it was over before it even truly began for the poor birds.

A hulking mass of red hair and scales, with burning blue eyes and pointed teeth twisted into a mocking grin, the terrifying creature came in swift and hard, without mercy. The pigeons had never seen such a beast before, so weren't sure how to react at first. But the moment the first agonised squawk pierced the air, along with an explosion of feathers and blood that rained down in a grisly shower, it was instantly clear that this demon was something to be avoided at all costs.

Roused out of their stupor as the first bloodied feathers hit the ground, the terrified birds tried to flee. They had wings, and this beast did not! Surely all they had to do was take flight and they would be safe, right?

Wrong.

Not even the skies were safe from this scaly monster's reach, as the next few pigeons soon found out. It was with powerful, bulky legs that it could leap with such tremendous force and speed that it outpaced even the fastest of the birds, snatching them right out of the air with its gigantic claws.

Yet more terrified cooing and squawks rung out, punctuated with the grisly sounds of tiny, feathered bodies being crushed under sadistic amounts of pressure. Those that lived long enough to see their brethren die were treated to the traumatic sight of beady eyes bulging out of their sockets before outright popping along with the rest of their crushed frames.

What had once been a paradise for birds had become a bloodied hellscape in a matter of moments. Blood, feathers and mutilated carcasses soon littered the once verdant greens. It was just...far too much for such simple creatures to comprehend. Far too cruel. Why had this happened to them? What had they done to deserve such wrath? Had they wronged some higher being in some way with their lazy lives of indulgence? Or was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place, at the wrong time? For most of the birds, they would never find this answer, with their lives being unceremoniously snuffed out one by one by the scaly beast.

It was perhaps due to sheer chance that our brave hero of this tale survived this onslaught. But not through any effort of its own. No. It was simply the last in line of murdered brethren--soon to meet the same fate as all of the others. It couldn't even manage to fly at this point. It had become far too traumatised. Far too paralysed with fear. It could only watch--and listen--as one by one, the friends it had grown to love were squashed under claw for real reason that the bird could discern. Simply for fun? For sport? The creature certainly had no desire to eat that which it was killing.

So... Why? Why?! These were the last thoughts racing through the bird's head as it was finally snatched up in such bloodied claws. It didn't even try to fight the beast's vice-like grip. What was the point of living now, anyway, when everything it had come to love had been rendered into fleshy pulp before it? Perhaps death was not so bad. All of its friends would be waiting on the other side, surely. And then they could continue just as they'd always done, living out such carefree days, away from any red, scaly monsters that sought to do them harm.

Stuck in the beast's grasp, the poor pigeon's body betrayed it as it began to quiver. It couldn't stand to look the monster in the eyes with its demonic visage so close now--its pointed teeth still stuck in a grin, and its breath far too hot. If the pigeon could have spoke the beast's language at this moment in time, it may have mustered the courage to curse it for all eternity. But instead, only panicked coos slipped from its beak.

The end was near for the bird. Would it hurt? Would the beast draw its suffering out, given it was the last pigeon in line? It was the uncertainty that tore the bird up the most. It just wanted it to get on with it. To apply that last little bit of pressure that would end it all and grant such sweet release, away from this bloodied hellscape. Away from the bodies of its friends.

...Except the end never came. And the pigeon couldn't understand why.

Daring to crack an eye open, it was greeted by the terrifying sight of the beast looming in right over it. With its other hand, it thrust a gigantic claw right at the bird and began to roar unintelligible words with such force that the pigeon's feathers were blasted on end with every syllable. A good deal of the creature's boiling spit hit it, too.

...What the creature was trying to communicate to the bird was a mystery, however. And the pigeon's lack of understanding only seemed to make it angrier. The claw locking it in place finally began to tighten in. The bird felt every fiber of its being start to compress in on itself. Its vision blurred and doubled as it was sure its eyes were beginning to bulge, just like all its brethren had suffered before. Blinding pain unlike anything it had ever experienced before surged through the bird's tiny body, and it could only squawk in agony.

And just as quickly as the squeezing had started did it stop, the grip loosening, only somewhat. Just enough for the bird's eyes to settle back into their rightful place in its skull.

It was at this moment that the bird became aware of another presence alongside the beast. A person that had...most likely been there for a while, but the bird had been stricken with such paralyzing fear over the beast that it had lacked the mental capacity to process anything else until now.

Surprisingly, this second presence was everything that the beast was not. Short of stature. Lacking in scales. No muscle to speak of. And a timid, gentle voice. It seemed as though it was the very sort of person that the red devil would crush underclaw, just as it had all of the pigeon's brethren.

Yet... When the long-haired person babbled--again, the pigeon lacked any understanding of their language, for it was a bird--the demon listened. Any aggression that had built up in the brute seemed to fade the more it took in the smaller person's words.

Indeed--it seemed the bird's saviour had arrived in the form of a very small human. Which baffled even the pigeon and its limited understanding of the world. For as far as it knew, no humans had ever associated with anyone other than fellow humans.

But the question remained--had the pigeon truly been saved? Or was being forced to live on after witnessing such atrocities a hell in itself? Was it possible for a pigeon to developer survivor's guilt?

It had plenty of time to ruminate on all of these thoughts with the events that transpired next; yet more babbling between the red devil and the human whilst the pigeon was shaken about in such unrelenting claws.

Whatever they were up to, it involved the blood of its brethren being scrawled upon a curious scrap of material, that was then forcefully tied upon the pigeon's leg in turn.

And then, after some more unintelligible babbling on both sides, the pigeon was suddenly jerked around in the beast's grasp as a bulky arm winded back. The bird glanced around anxiously. Something was happening. Was it finally going to be set free?

Technically speaking, yes. The pigeon was indeed freed from the scaly beast's iron hold at long last.

But the method of freeing it was...let us say...less than ideal for an already traumatised bird.

One mighty thrust of the devil's arm and the pigeon was hurled into the sky.

Never had the bird soared so high. Never had it flown so fast before. Never...had it cooed quite so fearfully.

The small woodland pigeon pierced through clouds at an alarming speed. The great blue sky above and verdant greenery below whizzed by it in a blur. To call this 'flying' wasn't even accurate--for the bird was rocketing through the air far too fast to ever hope to steer itself. Its wings were pinned right back against itself from the force of the wind. Its feathers steadily blew off of it the more speed it seemed to pick up.

At this point, the poor bird wished it had been crushed underclaw. At least then it wouldn't have had to experience this terrifying, ripping force blowing past it for goodness knows how long as it tore through the air faster than any bird before it.

It was then that the scenery below began to change. Blurs of green and blue steadily shifted to more grey, mundane tones. A giant structure loomed in the distance--yet another large, grey blob of...something...that the bird couldn't quite discern with the world as dizzying as it was. But whatever it was, the bird was blasting right toward it. It would no doubt hit it at full force. And at this speed, the impact would surely shatter what remained of the bird's fragile little body.

...So this was how it ended?

The pigeon shut its eyes tight as the structure grew ever closer. It tried to fill its mind with happier times before it could all cease to be. Memories of its friends. Of those lazy days that seemed like they'd never end. Where the only worries that plagued it was if it was raining or not.

Oh, how the bird regretted taking those days for granted. If it had known it would end like this, it would have sought to truly make the most of the limited time a pigeon such as itself had on this earth.

Here came the structure. Here came the bone-shattering splat. Here came the--...

Smash.

The barrier the pigeon had expected to be vaporised against gave way with surprising ease. It certainly wasn't the solid mass of a stone wall. But something far more fragile.

And then, the pigeon's journey came to a sudden and abrupt end. But not in the way it had anticipated. Instead, it struck against something silky and supple that absorbed the impact with an animated jiggle. And just like that, the pigeon had been saved.

Soft. Safe. Never had the bird felt such comforting plushness before in all its life. It was reminiscent of its brief life as a baby chick, when it was kept warm and snug against its mother's fluffy breast. It couldn't help but snuggle in against it with a dazed coo. Was this...the afterlife? It sure felt like a heaven.

--

It had been a day like any other for Queen Deidra. Perhaps even a touch more mundane than that. It took everything she had in her regal, buxom body to suppress the urge to yawn as she padded barefoot into the dressing room. It really should have been illegal to get up so early. A silly thought crossed her mind, that since she was the Queen, she could make it illegal. And then never would she be forced to drag herself out of bed half-asleep again.

But...no. She knew it would be incredibly selfish of her to do so--especially when so much of the kingdom relied on people getting up at the crack of dawn.

...She just wished it wasn't so difficult.

Maybe it was time to stop the late-night reading sessions in bed with a glass of wine at hand? And to act far more responsible, like the regal, motherly figure her adoring nation saw her as?

Maybe.

"Mmmnnn~..."

Rising up on the tips of her toes, her entire body quivered with a stretch as maids fussed around the Queen and prepared her usual gown for the day. Maids that she essentially only ever saw in this particular room, and for this one particular task. For apparently it 'wouldn't be appropriate' to assign the job of dressing--and undressing--her to her usual servant, Jacob. Something she didn't quite understand, but alas, Lady Cynthia was quite insistent on the matter.

Honestly, now. She couldn't do this. She couldn't do that. Was she not the Queen?!

...Well. She supposed that was the difference between a benevolent ruler who was loved by all, and a tyrant--the fact that she did indeed take all of her loyal subjects' worries and concerns into account when deciding on things.

It was these idle thoughts that filled her mind as she listlessly cast her night gown aside. (Of which a maid was standing by to catch, even if it had caught them off-guard at first.) Underneath, she wore a sky blue lacy two piece that really served to emphasise the regal curves that were typically hidden out of sight by the more modest gown her maids were prepping. The lingerie was custom-made just for her figure, so fit very snugly over both her hips and bust alike.

Although...despite the tailor's best attempts to fashion just enough fabric to conceal her ample bosom--while still flaunting enough skin--it seemed they'd underestimated just how big the Queen's chest really was. As a result, the immense amounts of ample softness that she carried around with her strained out against the lace fabric in a way that may have looked uncomfortable, but honestly, the Queen herself was rather fond of. It lent a certain amount of...spice to it all, as it were. Especially the way it allowed her chest to quake and ripple with even the smallest of steps. At least when she was standing like this, sans her usual royal gown.

It was such a shame that she had to keep this body all wrapped up outside of these closed doors. Oh how she longed to dress like some of the other royal figures she knew. Especially the ones in the hotter climates. Now those were some truly stunning outfits.

And on an amusing side note--at least for Deidra herself--the Queen's measurements are very much considered a national secret. Only known to a close, chosen few. And with those who are blessed with this knowledge, they've been warned rather sternly of what the consequences of leaking such information would be.

Yes, by who else than Lady Cynthia, of course.

With her outfit prepared, the Queen was just about to finally don it and start her day when a most curious sound caught her ear.

At first, it was faint. Almost like a low whistling sound. Tilting her head, she had to strain her ears just to pick up on it. But steadily, it grew louder...and louder still.

Coooooo...

What on earth was it? Queen Deidra was so focused on this sound now that she abruptly shushed a maid with a stern thrust of her hand--something she rarely ever did, unless she was in a particularly foul mood. She'd have to apologise later. But for now...she really did want to get to bottom of this.

--ooooooooooooooooo--...

"...Does anyone else hear that...?" Queen Deidra finally asked aloud, sparing a glance between her servants. Each of them give her a blank look back in return.

But...surely she wasn't imagining things, was she?

Straining her senses more and more, she focused her attention on the window off to the side. A window in a dressing room probably wasn't the most sensible ideas--as Lady Cynthia had said time and time again--but since it was so high up in the castle and angled away from any public districts outside...it would have taken one very determined individual to peek in on her while she was changing. And honestly, she would have applauded them for the effort at that point.

But, yes... The window... That sound was definitely coming from over there.

COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

And then just as she finally spotted the source of this strange noise, that was louder than ever now, it came crashing through that very window with a tremendous amount of speed and force.

SMASH!

The sound was deafening as something tore through faster than the speed of sound. The window shattered into a thousand pieces. The maids broke into panicked cries at the sudden intrusion, running about the place like headless chickens.

And Queen Deidra... Well.

It all happened so fast that she barely had any time to react before whatever had crashed through landed with a pronounced 'whump' against the heft of her bosom, lightly bouncing against it several times before falling still. The sight was so bizarre that it took even Queen Deidra a good moment or two to process what had nestled itself in her cleavage. And she had lived a very interesting life before becoming the Queen of Rhan.

It wasn't a projectile as she'd first thought. And it certainly wasn't a magical attack. No. The thing that had somehow found its way through her dressing room window was but a bird. A small woodland pigeon at that.

"Oh, my..." Was the first thing she said as the ringing in her ears from the sonic boom brought about by the bird finally settled--her voice carrying relative calmness in comparison to the shrieks of her servants.

'C-coo...' The bird lodged firmly between her pillowy mounds stirred, its wings spread out against her chest and its feet twitching. Somehow, it was still alive, even after smashing through at a speed most normal humans couldn't hope to achieve. Was this truly as common a bird as she thought?

"You poor thing... How did you end up here?" she cooed back it sympathetically, gingerly reaching out to trace a finger down its ruffled feathers. Hopefully it wasn't hurt too badly--or she'd hinder more than help it... But since it didn't appear to have broken anything, she decided to give it a helping hand with its recovery. Nothing too drastic, as her magic wasn't really intended for animals this small...but just something, all the same; a tiny spark of healing magic that would accelerate the natural recovery process, and hopefully alleviate it of its dizziness. It wouldn't be instantaneous healing, but it was her hope it would feel just a little better now.

...And before she could think to inspect the pigeon some more, she was already aware of a set of panicked, clanking boots homing in on her position. Deidra couldn't help but chuckle. Was this a new record for her?

"Y-Your Majesty! Are you okay?!" Wham. The door to the dressing room flew open with enough force to almost bring it off of its hinges. Long, golden hair flying--almost like a cape--and royal armour gleaming, Lady Cynthia stormed in with her sword drawn and her chest heaving. "I...hahh...hahhh... I heard a crashing sound! Are you under attack?! Fear not! I am...hahhh...here!"

...Given the maids were already on edge as it was from the pigeon's intrusion, an armed knight battering their way in only started the screaming all over again. Cynthia awkwardly stood in a combat-ready stance as the maids sought to break yet more windows from how high-pitched their shrieks had become. Ahhh... And Deidra thought today was going to be boring!

"Ahuhu... There's nothing to worry about, Lady Cynthia. Just a surprise visitor is all." Queen Deidra said with a chuckle and a gesture to the bird twitching in her cleavage.

The royal captain clearly had her doubts--especially with how dramatic the maids were being--but after a good moment or two of assessing the situation, she finally sheathed her sword. Which in turn put the maids at ease, too.

"...A...a visitor...?" Cynthia asked with a quirk of her brow. Given where she was standing, Deidra supposed she had yet to see the pigeon yet, so motioned for the captain to come closer. Given the state of undress the Queen was in, and how odd Cynthia seemed to act around her whenever she had more than a bit of skin on display, she was clearly reluctant to do so if the faint flush across her face was anything to go...but curiosity won over eventually and she joined Deidra at her side. Her blush only got brighter, though. How adorable.

"Indeed. Behold." With a flourish of her hand, as if presenting some grand award, Deidra gestured to the bird who had gotten rather comfy against her regal mounds. The dazed coo of before had melted into a far more content one--almost like a purr.

"Is that...a bird...?" Cynthia said incredulously, shoulders slumping. No doubt she was feeling rather silly now about barging in with her blade drawn--but Queen Deidra appreciated the readiness all the same. Meanwhile, the maids went about sweeping all of the glass up, each of them still fairly shaken up.

"But...how...?" Cynthia continued. She glanced between the pigeon and the window that had nearly been ripped right from its frame from the force of entry. "That glass was reinforced to withstand cannon fire! I made sure of it myself!"

"Hmmm... I suppose it was just flying very fast. My, you should have seen it, Lady Cynthia! It was quite exhilarating!"

"'E-exhilarating'?!" Cynthia choked in disbelief. "Y-Your Majesty, do you understand how fast a bird would need to fly to break through that?!"

Queen Deidra took a moment to ponder on this before nodding. She gently stroked the bird all the while. "Very fast, yes? And you heard just how...loud its entry was, I imagine?"

"Yes. I-I heard it from the other side of the castle while I was leading drills. I thought you were under attack! It sounded like a magic bolt ripping through the wall!"

"Ahuhu... It certainly did take me by surprise. And you, too, yes, girls?" Queen Deidra glanced at the maids with a warm smile. Each of them murmured something in agreement, too shocked to talk still.

Cynthia let out several exasperated noises at how nonchalant the Queen was being about this, before finally settling on something to say. "Y-Your Majesty, my point being... This was no mere accident. Somebody must have had their reasons for doing this--and until we find out, we cannot just--..."

"Hmmm... Would it have anything to do with this, I wonder?" the Queen mused aloud as the bird shifted in her cleavage just enough for a clawed foot to dangle loose. Strapped to the foot was a rolled up scrap of paper.

"A...a message...?" Cynthia said, leaning in to better examine the foot. Before realising she was also ogling the Queen's cleavage in the process. Pulling back with a rather pronounced 'ahem', she points at the bird. "...M-May I?"

"By all means, Lady Cynthia~" Queen Deidra said quite cheerfully, lifting her arms to give the royal captain better access to her chest. This only flustered Cynthia further and the Queen had to suppress a chuckle at that.

It took Cynthia a good minute or two after to finally work up the courage to stick her gauntleted hand into the Queen's bosom and to fish the note off and out.

"I wonder what it could be...? Hmmm... A confession, perhaps? My--that would really be exciting!" Queen Deidra said rather giddily with a clap of her hands. The bird remained entrenched in her chest even after the note was taken out. She'd let it rest there as long as it needed.

...The expression Cynthia gave the Queen was one she'd seen levelled Ren's way many, many times--but never hers until now; one of immense confusion mixed with dismay. Today was just full of firsts, wasn't it?

Unfurling the message very, very carefully--which appeared to be fashioned from a scrap of parchment--the dismay on Cynthia's face very quickly shifted to something far more stern, her expression getting more dire by the second. Even Queen Deidra couldn't help but grow serious, realising this potentially extended beyond a mere prank.

"...Your Majesty... I...I think you should look at this, too... Because if what this says is true..."

Dropping the antics, the Queen accepted the paper and pored over its contents. Much like Cynthia, her brow furrowed the more she read the awkwardly scrawled words...in what appeared to be blood.

Undead hordes ravishing the countryside. A necromancer leading them. And of course, the fact that said horde seemed to be on a direct course right to the capital.

"...This...would certainly explain the lack of communication with the other settlements, wouldn't it?" Queen Deidra said. She didn't doubt a word of the message. Not when it was scrawled so frantically, with such limited resources at hand. Whoever sent it must have been desperate. And needed it to arrive fast.

"Indeed... Shall I mobilise the royal guard?"

Queen Deidra nodded, having fallen into her far more 'regal' mode now. There was a time and a place to be silly, after all. "Please, do. Even if by some small chance that we're being deceived, it doesn't hurt to take precautions."

"At once, Your Majesty! No undead shall breach our walls!" Cynthia declared with a thump of her fist against her jiggling bust. And then, she was gone, clanking off into the hallway with purpose in her stride.

And once the clanking of boots faded into the distance, Queen Deidra's attention focused back on the bird who had finally regained some semblance of consciousness. With beady eyes lined with a lifetime of trauma, it cooed up at her weakly. She gave it a gentle pet, assuring it that it was safe here.

"My poor little thing... You've been through an awful lot, hmm?"

The bird bobbed its head in what could almost be considered a nod. The Queen's sympathetic smile grew wider.

"But rest assured that your efforts have not been in vain. Your message has been received, and the city shall be safeguarded against the evil that threatens us."

The bird slumped back down against her bust with a light bounce. Clearly it had taken all of its strength to even just lift its head before. The Queen gave it another gentle pat before letting it rest.

Then, with her gaze fixed on the broken window, and the blue sky beyond...her mind wandered. Something just didn't add up.

A necromancer...? Aiming for the capital city...? It wasn't that she doubted the message's words...but...what could they possibly hope to gain from laying siege to a such a fortified place right away? That certainly wasn't like any necromancers she'd known before. No... They usually started from the outside of a region, and then worked their way in, boxing the last bastion of defense until they were all but assured a victory.

Here, though... It sounded as if the necromancer was making a beeline right for the city with what limited power they had. Perhaps right for...her...

...It couldn't be...could it...? No... That was impossible.

Putting such ridiculous notions aside for now, the Queen finally set about getting herself dressed. And she'd grown so comfortable with the bird nesting in her bosom that she almost put her gown on with it still there. Not that she was bothered. But reluctantly, she let the maids transplant it to a velvet cushion. It would be treated like royalty for as long as it stayed here.

And with the gown donned, and gleaming crown atop her head, the Queen was ready to tackle the day. Ready to tackle whatever was thrown at her city. What she once presumed to be a boring day like any other had turned out to be far...far more interesting than she had anticipated. She could only imagine where this all led next.