Chimípu hated running at night. Even with her flames, her incredible speed didn't give her much chance to see obstacles before she approached them. Rocks, cliffs, and chasms would rush into view and disappear before she could blink.
The only way she could survive was keeping Shimusògo in her thoughts and the bird racing ahead of her. He angled through the desert, leading her around low-hanging branches and holes that would snap her bones. After fifteen years of running after Shimusògo, she trusted the spirit to keep her safe but that didn't stop the little skip in her heart as she narrowly avoided sharp rocks by inches.
The cautious part of her mind screamed for her to stop, to turn around and wait until morning. But it was drowned out by the fear for Rutejìmo. He had depended on her for protection and defense: from other clans trying to stop his deliveries, from his own brother who cast him out of the clan, and now from assassins trying to hide a secret that could kill everyone.
Tears burned in her eyes. Rutejìmo was supposed to be safe. He was a kojinōmi, no one attacked a caretaker of the dead. He was weak and knew it, he never started fights and he only defended himself with his weapons. He was the quiet man in the corner who struggled with everything but kept trudging forward just because it was the only thing he could do.
Chimípu pushed herself to race faster, concentrated on moving her arms and legs to get as much speed out of her as possible. Her bare feet slammed against the icy sand and she was grateful that Shimusogo kept her from tripping.
There was a flash of blue ahead of her and then a rumble of an explosion. There was a fight. Inside her heart, she knew that he was still in danger.
Screaming, she prayed to Shimusògo to give her more speed and raced after the bird, desperate to push faster and harder. She didn't have time, she couldn't afford to be late.
To her surprise, she began to catch up to her clan's spirit. In all her years of running, it had always raced a second ahead of her. For the first time, she closed the distance. The golden flames around her body brightened, lighting up the way as she inched closer to her spirit, the uncatchable bird.
The world grew painfully fast, blurring fast enough that she no longer saw the obstacles she was passing but felt them in her heart.
Then she was head to head with Shimusògo. The world was surrounded in a golden flames, her feet barely touched the ground as she raced over it. The bird no longer paved the way, it was both of them running together that created a path.
The sights of the battle grew closer, she had just run hundreds of miles in less than twenty minutes. There were fifty or sixty warriors facing against her little brother. All of them had flame surrounding them, gold and yellow for the day clans and blue and greens for the night. She could feel the power even from there, a cloud of discordant magic.
Despite the distance, she could see Rutejìmo clearly. Blood stained his dark skin black and he slouched from exhaustion. Blood dripped from his weapon, a fighting spike, but he held angled toward the ground. He was ready to parry, not attack.
The lead warrior was a woman in a feathered headdress who stood before him. She talked as she spread out her bare hands. She had no weapons but Chimípu could feel poisonous energies gathering along her body.
With a silent snarl, she sprinted forward and passed her clan spirit. The world blurred around her and then there was silence. No sound, no howl, nothing. Just the pressure of air around her as Rutejìmo's opponent zoomed closer as Chimípu covered the distance in a flash.
Just as the feathered woman pulled back to flick her hand, Chimípu reached her. She punched the woman in the chest, intending to shove her back. Instead, her fist carried through flesh and bone. The explosion of blood followed her as she raced past the corpse who had been threatening her brother.
Chimípu tried to turn around quickly, but she as going too fast and something ripped inside her. Fighting the pain, she dug her bare feet into the ground to stop.
When she came to a halt, her breath came out in ragged gasps. Exhaustion sapped at her strength, pulling her down. She staggered and almost collapsed. She gasped and prayed to Shimusògo for help.
A giant translucent bird blossomed over her and then sank into her body. Fresh energy filled her along with the taste of blood and bile in her throat. She could feel that she had torn her muscles but she wasn't done.
Stalking back, she walked in a pool of golden flames, tracing the bloody smear of the woman she had just killed. She unsheathed her fighting knife and held it tightly in her grip.
Coming closer, she inspected Rutejìmo. He swayed as he stared at her, hope on his face. There was also pain in his eyes, a sorrow that burned itself into her memory. He had seen things that had changed him. The man she left a few days ago had been irrevocably damaged by his flight.
Anger surged inside her. She glared at the men and woman still standing. “That's my little brother you attacked,” she said. To her surprise, she could barely talk over her panting. She had never run so fast; she could feel her body shaking with the effort to keep standing.
She gestured with her knife to everyone but her little brother. “I'm going to kill all of you.”
Rutejìmo let out a sob.
A warrior stepped forward. “There is only one—”
She didn't let him finish. With a surge of power, she crossed the two hundred feet and brought her knife through his neck. Her momentum carried her through another rod before she stopped.
A ripple of fear and surprise ran through the surrounding warriors.
Chimípu gasped for breath and looked around. “Jìmo.”
He jumped and staggered back.
Sweat blinded her and she wiped it away from her face. “Are you seriously injured?”
“C-Cuts and burns. I-I'll live. Thank you, Great—”
She was going to kill everyone. Looking at his haunted eyes, she didn't want him to remember it. “Good. Go to sleep.”
Someone snorted with amusement.
Rutejìmo stared at her, his dark face pale. “W-What?”
“I-I don't want you to see this.”
The warrior who snorted interrupted her. “Just like that?”
She glared at him, gathering power.
“Go to sleep in the middle of—”
Chimípu surged forward, using her speed to bring her knife through his torso, slicing through flesh and bone before stopping another rod past him.
“—a fight?” finished the corpse.
Looking back at Rutejìmo, she saw the horror rising. Taking a deep breath, she gave him an order, “Jìmo, go to sleep. I promise you will wake up in the morning.”
There were smirks around her. The smiles faded when Rutejìmo, shaking like grains of sand in a storm, sank to his knees and then to the ground. He laid down in the middle of blood and gore and closed his eyes.
Chimípu turned to the others and got a tight grip on her knife. No one will touch her little brother.
They all lunged at the same time, a glare of powers rising up as the warriors all activated their powers of death and destruction.
Chimípu took out the nearest one with a slash across the throat and then decapitated another. She moved with short bursts of speed. She expected Shimusògo to appear at her feet but he didn't. Instead, she felt the power inside her as she stopped only long enough to turn and move again.
Once they regained their wits, they were able to withstand her charges. Her knife bounced off invisible shields of air and scraped metal limbs. Flaming blades cut through her clothes and into her body. The taste of blood grew stronger in her mouth; soon it dribbled down the corners of her mouth and soaked her legs. She dismissed her injuries as she slashed and punched at her attackers.
A man in leather grabbed her throat and yanked back. His strength pulled her off balance.
She let out a cry and fell back, rolling against his chest.
His knife punched into her side, right under the ribs.
With her speed, she pulled away from him before it could reach her heart but agony burst from the wound. She raced back and grabbed him by his hair. Without pausing, she spun around. Energy flared from inside her and the flames spun around in a vortex of heat and raw power. Her opponent's feet flew off the ground with her speed.
He flailed helplessly, his scream rising up into a high-pitched cry.
She spun faster.
With a wet ripping noise, his neck snapped and the body tore off. It flew into a warrior with a shield, crushing both of them into a shower of gore.
Chimípu channeled more power into spinning, the flames rose up in a howling storm, and then she threw the head with all her might. Shimusògo's power took her momentum and poured it into the head. When she released it, the skull ignited into flames. It punched through the chest of two warriors before crushing the skull of a third.
Movement near Rutejìmo caught her attention, there was a snake racing toward him from one direction and a woman with a knife from the other. The woman's body blurred with darkness and it was hard to focus on her.
“Not my brother!” Chimípu started forward but agony exploded from her injury. Her insides tore further and blood spurted from her side. With a scream, she forced herself past her injuries to sprint forward. She gutted the woman before crushing the snake.
Before it died, the snake snapped out. Its teeth punched into Chimípu's leg.
She grabbed it with her hand and spun twice before launching it into the face of one of her opponents.
More warriors attacked. She stood over Rutejìmo and fought them off, moving as fast as she could as poison surged through her veins and blood poured from her side. Her knife was a blur as she parried four blades with her own.
A strike caught her wrist, scraping against bone and slicing through the tendons. Her blade slipped from her fingers, splashing in the rivers of blood before settling on a rock.
Chimípu fought the agony as she staggered back, clutching her wrist. Searing hot blood poured out from her fingers. It splattered on the ground and her leg.
She looked around for her opponents, but there was only one left. The rest were corpses on the ground, their flames fading as they died.
Her opponent panted for breath. “Give up and live.”
The world spun around her and she fought to remain conscious.
Agony pulsed throughout her body. She was covered in gore. Her life poured out from her fingers. But she couldn't sleep until her brother was safe. Biting down on her lip, she summoned her flames and directed them into the wound in her wrist.
She gulped and spat out blood. “No, I won't…”
The smell of burning flesh filled the air and her vision blurred from the pain.
When she could speak again, she finished. “… but he will.”
She barely had enough energy to stand. She bore down and drew the last dredges of power but there was none. She had used everything she had and they were still hours from sunrise.
The warrior grinned and his blue glow grew stronger.
Anger filled her. She took a deep breath and another, preparing herself to sprint forward. She didn't know where the power would come from but she would give everything she had.
With a burst of movement, she blew past him. Her fist caught him right below the ribs and her blow punched through his armor and the soft organs of his body. She carried through with her attack, bringing her blood-soaked arm around in a spray of gore.
She collapsed to the ground, his sword buried in her stomach. A gout of blood poured out of her mouth before her face smacked against another corpse.
Behind her, she heard the last opponent hit the ground.
With a smile, she closed her eyes.