The maid’s strides were the definition of elegance. Her posture was uptight and diligent, never slacking as she made her rounds about the oval table, pouring fresh tea into tiny cups wherever one was depleting. As she followed this routine, another maid entered the room, carrying a plate of confections to replace the previous one. With as much grace as her colleague, she performed a thankless job; not one of the eight guests remarked on their courtesy, instead continuing their discussions with one another. When they were finished, the maids returned to the countess’s sides, awaiting their next orders with their hands clasped in front of their auburn dresses.
The guests invited by Countess Harmonia were also of an elite class, though their status did not compare to her’s. They were property owners and trade managers, the majority of them fat and well-groomed, brought together to discuss the continued growth of the land -- where their profits were concerned. Each wanted to woo Harmonia, to win her over in order to spread their influence and obtain more power. They roared with laughter at her jokes, they agreed with her in any debate, and they complimented her endlessly, not only in regards to her rulership, but as well as her pristine white gown, her cascade of curled brown hair, the gold and gems that lavished her attire. Rarely did they look elsewhere but to her, at the end of the table, seated most contently while she allowed the others to speak.
“It would make a most exceptional export, milady,” a particularly hefty guest chortled. He lifted his tea, “Your wine is the trophy of the province, and the southern peoples would pay handsomely for its trade. Nothing like it exists there!”
“The climate is difficult to grow berries there, so I’ve been told,” Countess Harmonia spoke. Her voice was steady like steel, and for as cold as it was, there was an undeniable sheen in her tone. “The harvest this season is proving to be especially top quality. Negotiations to trade should certainly happen.”
The man nodded, but the others became timid and looked to their tea. “It would be a privilege to speak with you more about this,” he said, “but there is the matter of, well, reaching the south. A-As you know, milady, the Crumbling Valley is the most direct route, but currently…”
A woman shook her head, taking over where the man hesitated. “Those beasts are simply too numerous!” she said. “Why, they can fill the skies with their numbers! So it has been said, at least. I required an urgent letter to be sent south, only to hear the messenger was swarmed by those birds! It goes without saying, but the letter did not reach its destination as I had hoped, and I had to write another!”
Murmuring of agreement began from the other guests, but these worries did not plague Harmonia. “The Crumbling Valley is a menace to travel through, indeed. You should be pleased to know that I have dedicated my efforts to trampling the harpy threat in that area. Bounty hunters from around the kingdom have left for the valley, including Reina the Relentless.”
The name struck awe from her audience. The archer had recently made a name for herself in the kingdom as a peerless hunter turned mercenary, leading fellow sellswords into a number of fantastical creatures. Minds were put to ease by this fact, and the discussion of beginning a wine trade to the south was about to continue.
One of the guests suddenly jumped from his chair and onto his feet. Eyes whipped to his position in surprise, but they immediately then felt a ripple of a shockwave, so strong that it rattled their tea and shook the furniture. The chandelier above began to sway over their heads while the delicate architecture of the chamber creaked in its most strained areas. After the quake ended and the people had recovered, they looked outside the large window at what had caused such an impact. There was a suspended pause as the guests, maids, and even Harmonia herself gasped at what had fallen outside Redrun’s borders.
“A harpy?!” a guest coughed, visibly shaking as though the shockwave riddled him once more. “A harpy… I-Is that a harpy?!”
“No… Wh-What is that?!” a woman asked, clutching the table’s edge for balance. “What kind of monster-- it’s huge! I-I-It’s attacking the city!”
Harmonia rushed to the window while others trembled away from it. She surveyed the city that largely belonged to her, the many buildings and towers and shops and barracks that paid respect to her. Flooding the streets were panicked people, rushing about on foot or on horseback, either awing at the monster’s appearance or fleeing from it. The purple-feathered giant stepped over Redrun’s walls, her footfalls alone causing irreparable damage and claiming any number of lives. Her shadow from the setting sun stretched into the city’s heart, creeping closer to the manor’s grounds as the matriarch invaded.
The doors opened with a slam -- the youngest of the guests blitzed out of the chamber, pushing aside manor staff. Harmonia turned, revealing her horrified reaction. She stuttered to say anything to keep her guests from fleeing, but others took after the young man, scrambling from the table amidst their own cries and shouts. Only Harmonia remained, as well as her two maids.
“Milady… Your orders…?” one of the maids asked, leaving her position to be behind Harmonia. Despite the perilous circumstances and the panic that had broken out, both maids exercised a diligent calm, refusing to show their fear through anything more than minor shivers.
Harmonia glared out the window, at her faint reflection in the glass. A row of homes went missing under a merciless talon, all while the giant smiled and snickered at the destruction. Harmonia imagined the room around her closing in, crumbling around her.
“Arrange my carriage,” the countess ordered, looking at the maid through the reflection. The maid nodded and swiftly left the chamber. Harmonia turned to the other maid, “Alert the guards. Tell them to hold the front courtyard.”
The maid blinked. She hesitated to remark, “B-But, milady, what could the guards possibly--”
“Do not question me! Do not question me!!” Harmonia hissed, her fists thrust down at each of her sides as she spun towards the maid. “Do as I say! Do as I say!”
The manor was in a rush with activity, busier than the decorated halls ever had been. Manor staff raced up and down the stairs as they arranged to evacuate the countess, thinking of their own safety as a second priority. Harmonia’s heels were heard clacking at a hurried pace as she was escorted to the rear courtyard, a road that allowed her one final view of her vineyard. A white and blue carriage awaited her, where her two personal maids loaded her belongings and then joined her in the cart. Before the door even closed, the driver whipped at the two horses into motion, and within seconds, they were past the manor’s gate, the wooden wheels kicking up dirt behind them.
All the while, Atilda’s approach had been uninterrupted. Her footsteps were reminiscent of a thunderstorm, but far more violent in its rhythmic mayhem. As the carriage escaped the gate and the trees, Harmonia witnessed the beast closer than ever, crawling at the front of the manor with her tail raised high into the air. Her face was nearly pressed into the window as she watched the harpy devastate her guards. Yet, that was a relief to her, that the monster was distracted with meaningless guards.
“Have your fun, animal,” Harmonia mocked, a brave smile wanting to crack wider. As she turned away from the carnage, she scoffed, “Those damned mercenaries. Were their pockets too heavy to slay this beast? Miserable cretins, all of them…”
An uneasy silence settled in the carriage, only the trotting of horses and the turning of wheels offering any noise. The maids looked to each other, unsure of what was ahead, or what they could do to appease their countess. Before either could speak up, however, there was a damning crash, a quake that made the carriage jump while its occupants gasped.
Through the window behind her, Harmonia gazed at the beast, now crouched behind the manor. In one leap, the entirety of the building had been surpassed. Atilda rose to her full height, throwing back a heap of purple hair to unveil her devilish smile. Her one revealed eye then lit up with a flash of excitement, having found exactly what she came searching for. One dreadful step towards the speeding carriage was enough to launch Harmonia into hysterics.
“Faster! Th-That thing-- Faster!!” she yelled to the front of the carriage. The driver, still shaken by the harpy’s impact, quickly followed the order and whipped again at the horses, but their speed was maxed, already running for their lives. They whipped past corners and across foot bridges with reckless force, but the monster tailing them was unimpeded by any obstacles, her talons flattening all things in her path as she followed after the carriage.
Harmonia stared out the window, her maids looking over her shoulders from where they sat. Footfall after footfall, the talons crept closer with greater impact, their immense size always impressing the fleeing occupants. The cycle of steps seemed neverending, until a despairing shadow blanketed the carriage. In that next instant, the carriage shook violently, its forward momentum completely gone. Harmonia and the maids were thrust out from their seats, the windows’ glass shattering onto the floor as a monstrous talon grappled the vehicle. Harmonia and the maids screamed, their voices overpowered by the wild cry of horses being lifted off the road, trapped to their reins -- snap, partway into the air, the animals collapsed to the ground and dashed away. The driver, too, was shaken from his seat, and he plummeted to the earth for a painful landing.
The wood of the carriage creaked, threatening to crack apart any moment as Atilda brought it up to her face. Her low rumble of giggling grew louder as she looked over the toy-like vehicle, admiring how fragile it felt in her grasp. From within, she heard the distressed shouts of Harmonia and her maids, which sharply peaked as her huge eye peered inside to ensure the countess was truly there.
“Did you think you could get away?” Atilda asked, her whisper still powerful enough to overwhelm the continuing cries from inside the carriage. “How disrespectful! I came a long way to have a conversation with you, and you chose to flee like a scared insect. This was not how I imagined the countess to act, certainly not to a fellow matriarch…”
Harmonia did not reply to Atilda nor comprehend her. Her head was buckled under her arms as she screamed out for help. Bored of this scene, Atilda shook the carriage from side to side, watching in glimpses through the windows as the three inside were tossed against the carriage walls. In this movement, the door on the carriage’s side swung open, posing a threat that Harmonia and her maids could fall out. Planning on this, Atilda rose the carriage higher and angled it so that its entry looked down at her. Hamornia and her maids were thus thrown to this wall, dangerously close to slipping out into the open sky.
“I see the countess is not alone. Helpers of yours, I assume?” Atilda giggled, acknowledging the two maids. “They must be dedicated assistants, coming with you through this! Surely they must understand what kind of trouble you’re in. It’s almost a shame that they’ll be involved with this, it would have been wiser of them to have abandoned you~”
The maids made glances at each other, then to their countess. Harmonia had kicked away from the open door and into a corner, a cowardly position ill fitting her status. She shook and stammered, “Wh-What is it you want?! Name it, beast, j-just name anything! I-I’ll get it for you, in time!”
Atilda inhaled, then laughed into the carriage, making it creak and groan from her volume. “Oh-ho! Are we bartering now? I thought there would be more formalities. Not even a greeting for your guest? You just hurry to pleading for your life?” Atilda shook her head. “Foolish noble. I already have everything I came here for~ Plus a little extra. Those maids of yours aren’t necessary. So, as punishment for trying to escape me, I suggest you sacrifice one.”
Harmonia’s eyes widened at what had been asked of her. She looked to her maids who looked back at her, equally speechless. One maid shook her head, the most of a reply either could muster. Harmonia hesitated, and the carriage shook. Atilda’s patience was dwindling.
“Isn’t this how royalty works? Your skin and blood is too precious to be spilled~ so you have lesser people take punishment for you. Do you feel at home being treated this way? Do your maids agree with being used as tokens? I wonder, but I also hunger~” Atilda licked her lips, exposing her maw in a long stretch. Only the maids looked down into the abyss of a throat, the expecting tongue that lashed with saliva. The carriage creaked again as the talon gripped tighter, “I’m waiting, Harmonia! Choose one, either one~ If not, I can just snap my talon shut now, and have all of you crushed at once…”
Harmonia could not respond, not until both faces aimed their worry to her. She clutched her head with both hands to ward off the stress, but there was no escaping the cracking sound of the carriage wanting to snap apart. Her head lifted with a vicious glare pointed at her servants, “Go! One of you, go! J-Just drop in! Save me!”
The maids were stunned, their hearts having dropped like anchors. This truly was no dream, not even a twisted comedy, but an actual choice that their beloved countess forced them to make. They had to decide who of them would die, and who would live in the harpy’s talon alongside their countess. The cavernous throat below groaned dissatisfied with their delay, and so too did the countess whine with impatience underneath the creaking wood. Harmonia looked at them again, even more enraged than before; “You!” she declared, pointing to one of the pair. “Feed yourself to her! Now!”
“M-M-Milady…” the maid gasped, her knees trembling into paralysis. “I-I can’t! Pl-Please, there has to be--”
“You will not ruin me…! You will not…!” Harmonia snarled as she charged up to her servant, grabbing her by the long, decorative sleeves of her attire and tugging her towards the open door between them. The other maid screamed as the feud unraveled, backing away while her partner pleaded for mercy. No cry would stop Harmonia from dragging the maid into the hole, stomping her hands and wrists when they refused to let go of the frame. The sacrificial maid could hold no longer, and so she fell, crying in the open air as she dropped into the mouth.
Atilda giggled at the scene above, her predator’s senses madly teased by the dangling of a woman. Her tongue stretched ahead in preparation, catching the small body onto its wet form. The maid’s screams dwindled as the maw was sealed, leaving the survivors with a toothy smile to look down onto in place of where the woman once panicked. A distinct swallow was heard, and that smile flickered even brighter.
“A delicious choice. My regards, Harmonia,” Atilda chuckled, licking her lips clean with satisfaction. “The taste of servitude is quite savory. A life of loyalty marinates the flesh. So much dedication to one’s mistress, only to be cast aside as a crumb for something more deserving. Fufufu~
“But what is a meal without a drink? Certainly no meal served by a generous hostess,” Atilda continued, gradually lowering the clutched carriage to her abdomen. The vehicle was rolled around in the talon’s grip so that its doors were now the ceiling rather than the floor. Her mighty wings met together and formed an uneasy hold on the carriage, allowing her to carry it back towards Redrun. The feeling of two souls trapped inside stumbling along the rotating walls did not go unnoticed, tempting Atilda to rattle and shake the carriage spontaneously as she strolled back up the road. “It would be insulting to come this far and not enjoy some of your delicious wine, crafted here at your own vineyard~ I simply must taste what you have become so deeply invested in…”
The scene had become quiet in Atilda’s absence. Surrounding the manor and within its vineyard were scattered workers, the remnants of Harmonia’s staff, whose livelihoods and homes had been decimated before their eyes. Many were misplaced, while others returned in order to offer aid. As a shadow crept over them, however, they knew the harpy was not concluded with Harmonia’s manor, nor the city it was in. Panic swelled anew as thundering footsteps intruded the territory again.
The vast, round hills of the vineyard stretched out in front of Atilda like patches in a quilt. She could see the intricate designs that made for a maze-like farm of bushes and vines, all trimmed and positioned to make for a graceful view. Lost within its pathways were many of Harmonia’s servants, those that had been too far from the harpy’s arrival to even understand what had overcome the manor. Their terrified gazes up at the sun-blocking Atilda made the matriarch grin; her attention turned to them directly, sparking a godless fear in their hearts.
“Ah, fufu~ More little servants…” Atilda sounded pleased, even relieved, that she had not massacred everyone. Her words froze whatever resistance these farmers had, but they were completely petrified when Atilda squatted in front of them. A circle of workers huddled around a storehouse for shelter, but the underside of the titan above them eclipsed the sky. They existed between her talons, her enormous face hanging directly over their position with a cascade of purple hair on either side.
“I have your mistress now,” she explained to them coyly. “I own her. So, that makes you my own by extension. You served a pathetic worm of a countess for this long, so you will obey a true ruler without difficulty… yes? Fufu~ If you value your little bug lives, you’ll agree with me, and you will listen when I tell you that I am thirsty.” Her amusement was deathly apparent, seen in the shimmer of her eyes. “Gather enough wine to satisfy me. I am sure you can scrounge enough together for at least a taste.”
The shamble of workers could not respond, not one voice between them courageous enough to answer. Such was unnecessary, Atilda decided; she rose up from her squat, freeing the servants of the overwhelming pressure, and turned her attention back to the city. Fires sprawled across the most devastated corners, and riots were held in the most congested of intersections between the craters that had been made. “Oh, I have inherited so much,” Atilda jokingly commented. “An entire city is now under my watch, it seems. A disorderly little civilization, but if I can tame the harpy horde, then surely some humans will pose no problem.”
As Atilda made her strides onwards to the city, she made an effort to cause as much harm to Harmonia’s vineyard as possible. Her claws scraped at the ground that had been tended to and refined over generations, uprooting years of work and progress in a mess of leaves and juices. To a particular square of land, Atilda struck hard with her talon, enough power to billow fierce winds across the field, and then further, she grinded the flattened lot deeper into the ground, twisting her claws to leave behind an empty waste.
All manners of resistance were armed and ready to fight off Atilda in a desperate hold, whipped together in the moments preluding Atilda’s return. Guards were posted atop the city’s walls and even the roofs of buildings, equipped with both magic and weapons that they knew could only slow the monster as a distraction. Only one pace away from stomping into the city, a proud attack was announced, signalled by the blaring of a low horn. Arrows soared through the air, trebuchets launched their boulders, and elemental energies were conjured into thrown projectiles. Yet, this all-out offensive went completely ignored, not even deserving of insult; Atilda stepped into the streets without ever acknowledging the chaos at her ankles, the plentiful attacks that failed to make her even flinch as she proceeded how she wanted. Entire teams of guards were crumbled along with their outpost, vanquished by a single footfall that just as quickly leaped forward away.
“Your countess has failed you all!” Atilda taunted, spreading one wing out as to address her subjects. “She instigated an attack on harpy-kind and failed! As punishment, she has relinquished you all to me~ You are under my domain now! You will serve me, Atilda the Matriarch! You will not leave this city except in my stomach! Return to what is left of your homes and relish under my presence~ This is a glorious time for you, insects! You have been freed of your inferior ruler and now obey a greater, stronger one! Your destiny is ahead of you; either die resisting like worms, or thrive as slaves to your queen!”
Her speech rattled the very foundation of the city. There was no alley where her voice did not echo, and no conversation held about anything but her tyranny. Atilda had established her rule without the mass rioting ever needing to be hushed. In her shadow, conflict began to simmer, but there was a wave of revolution still burning through the people. Many would not accept this obnoxious ruler, refusing to submit themselves to a supersized beast. Despite the overwhelming odds and the endless pressure exerted by a being of such incredible size, rallies were still held disparaging Atilda’s control, efforts made to evacuate and abandon Redrun entirely.
Atilda’s vision narrowed on these edges of the city, where clusters of townsfolk pooled together in their attempts to escape out of the gates. Though clearly an act of disobedience, Atilda yet grinned, pleased to be given the excuse to make an example. “So be it,” she said, “but do not deny that I gave you all the choice.”
Chaos waged at the doors in and out of the city. Chains of communication between Redrun’s defenses were broken, leaving guards without order or directions. At one gate, citizens clashed with guards in a bout to control the doors, both sides disagreeing whether to obey their overlord or fight for freedom. In other corners, there was no debate, and drawbridges were lowered so that evacuees could pour out. Regardless of what the people did, Atilda could not trust them with open doors, and so she sought to disable these exits, forcing her newly-acquired subjects to remain.
The matriarch enjoyed overlooking the many streets that passed under each deadly step as she progressed to the border. A bell tower was caught between her claws and beheaded, a river was flooded by a crashing talon. The landscape was her’s to manipulate, and she had a design in mind to disperse any further resistance to her rule. A church stood atop a pedestal-like hill, a respected sanctuary supported by proud columns and brought to life with stained glass depictions of saints. Its beauty alone had not caught her attention -- she considered it as gaudy as the rest of upper class aesthetics -- but how people pooled there, gathering under its roof for protection. It had become crowded and clogged with people and their prayers, a keen location for Atilda to play with.
“You have no gods that will help you now, insects! Fufu~!” Atilda bent forward so that she could closer perceive the church. She glanced at her carriage with a smile, ensuring it had some window of the scene below. “You should be praying to me. I will gladly show you the power of a god~”
The warning could not be understood from within the sanctuary’s walls, not able to overpower the mob-like banter of pleas for safety. Only the most dedicated of worshippers continued to chant their prayers when the walls and ground began to shake. Priceless windows shattered as the pressure around them increased, removing the colorful effect that had been cast within. Crowds struggled to push themselves free out of the building, but for nearly all, it was too late. Atilda’s talon surrounded the church and more, dug into the ground so that its entire foundation could be uprooted and stolen. Those that had fled to the outskirts of the church found the earth missing from their feet, replaced with a blurry horizon as the sanctuary was craned to a different part of the city.
Among the streets, citizens had already instinctively fled from the creeping shadow that was Atilda’s talon, but the rain of debris over their heads produced additional dangers to avoid. Many identified the lump of bricks and glass in her grasp to be that of their church, now used as waste to serve her vile intent. The load was carried directly over the first of several gates, where a stampede of evacuees rushed to cross the drawbridge. So many were committed to fleeing that they refused to change course, clogging the exit further as the claws started to part.
It all fell from her clutches like pebbles and dust. Tons of crumbled bricks and shattered wood hailed onto the gate below, violently entrapping would-be evacuees under a mountain of rubble. Within the gravel of the church were also fanciful curtains, damaged relics, and the corpses of those that had sought salvation. Remnants of the mess spilled out into the streets, taking over corners and intersections, denying access to a row of buildings. When the air cleared, all could see how their path had been ravaged, that the gate was now buried by the trashed remains of a holy building.
Some wept at the base of the mound while others cursed up at the harpy, but they were all countered by a maniacal laugh that was quick to abandon them. Atilda did not dwell on their circumstance any more than it amused her, and other gates required similar feats of destruction. She trailed Redrun’s outer wall as though she were strolling through a garden, carelessly leaving craters where she walked. A swipe of her wing was enough to tear down a long bridge, leaving in its place a single purple feather atop the water. Another gate was disposed of with a tower, tipped over by an idle push of a claw. She circled the entire city, cutting off the exits, before she was back at the vineyard where she began, pleased with the plumes of dust that signalled each devastated gate.
Atilda pointed the carriage out towards Redrun, turning it so that the occupants inside could survey the turmoil and distress. Harmonia and her maid stared in horror of the destruction, the setting sun symbolically sealing the fate of her domain. “Slowly, my order is being established,” she said mockingly. “I’ve made some improvements to your little city. They have no reason to leave their beloved queen, fufu~ They should be grateful that the temptation no longer exists. Mm, are those cries of celebration I hear from my people? An event as monumental as this is worthy of a drink -- wouldn’t you agree, Countess?”
Two steps alone crossed into the vineyard, adding yet more distinctly shaped craters with those that had been planted before. Tireless workers dashed between the fields and the manor storage, hurriedly arranging what they had been demanded to offer: enough wine to satisfy the giant harpy. Their efforts amused Atilda, relating the humans to ants as they scrambled in the quake of her return. Time was up, and the fruits of their labor, rushed as it may have been, was now to be judged.
“Well…? What have you prepared for your queen, my servants?” Atilda humored herself, her free wing taken to her mouth to veil her expression. “This manor-- nay, this entire city has survived on the quality of its wine, so I’ve been told… Is its taste enough to save your lives? Impress me, and I may just keep you as loyal pets~ fufu~”
The workers stood pale and silent, knowing they had no right to speak nor the volume to even be heard. The foremen took the lead, guiding Atilda’s gaze over to their offering. Nearly every major supply of wine had been gathered; wagons were full of kegs and barrels, and tanks of larger storage were removed from the warehouses and rolled out into the presentation. It was enough to overwhelm a royal feast and some more, yet at the talons of the great harpy, the collection’s quantity shrank to that of a few drinks. The workers muttered to themselves about such a dispute, wondering what more they could have been expected to do.
But to their surprise, Atilda’s eyes widened with interest. “Oh… Hmm…” Her tone could not be inferred, spelling suspense over the shoulders of those awaiting a more definitive reaction. The crowd flinched as a claw was lifted, unintentionally ripping up a row of bushes before nearing the supply. Its sharp edge scratched at one of the tanks, which could be pinched by her whenever she decided. A small shake of the container revealed its fullness, and a short smile shined down on the workers.
“Well… This is… an acceptable offering…” Atilda said. An uneasy but welcomed relief lifted the servants, but she continued, “... regarding the amount, that is. Fufu~ Now, to actually taste what Harmonia has you slave away for. I expect a flavor bold enough to make me reconsider eating any more of you humans.”
Atilda licked her lips in preparation for the tank that she had selected, its weight insignificant in her grasp. Her massiveness was balanced on a lone leg as the other was risen and flexed to bring the tank to her lips, whereupon a clench of her talons cracked open the metal and released the wine inside. The eruption could be heard down below among the servants, a surplus of their prized wine crudely torn into and devoured in just a single gulp. As they continued to observe, the container was haphazardly released and dropped onto the crowd, forcing them to scurry away moments before it shattered on the earth with a red spray. The panic was quelled quickly, as all attention went back to the giant, direly awaiting her next remark.
A low giggle sang over their heads, yet without an answer. Atilda’s uncovered eye flashed with excitement as the wine ran down her throat. “Hah! Only just enough to be felt on my tongue,” she mocked. To these words, unrest swept the servants, fearing their doom. “A weak flavor… but what else can you miserable cretins produce, hm?” The workers flinched wildly as the talon came down, though it descended only to claim a clump of six barrels. Seemingly enjoying the taste enough for a second helping, the harpy bust opened the barrels over her mouth, ignoring any splinters of wood that crumbled in with the drink.
The foremen of the vineyard servants fell to their knees in response to the judgement, offering huge gestures of gratitude. They barked at the others to bow as well, to show respect for their ruler. They cheered in her honor, but the noises they made sparked only a raised brow from Atilda as her tongue whipped over her lips.
“Eh? What is this?” If this was a human custom, she was unfamiliar with it. She sighed, “I don’t see a purpose in you remaining here. Are you sure it’s wise to waste time? I will surely be thirsty tomorrow morning as well…” Her hint was slow to dawn on the servants. She articulated her intent by creating a bullying gust of wind with a wave of her wing, a gale forceful enough to topple even the heaviest workers backwards. With the wind guiding them, the servants fled into the desecrated vineyard, followed by Atilda’s chuckling. “Humans are too thoughtless~ Every harpy in the horde knows her place and what to be doing when not given a command. If I must harden you in the coming days, then so be it…”
A deep breath was cherished after the servants were scared off, allowing Atilda time to herself -- as much privacy as she could have, at least, as a gargantuan winged-beast towering over Redrun. She looked out to the city, again enjoying the smoke-riddled vista and the distant rioting. The manor behind her caught her eye as a worthwhile location to perch, and so she turned to claim a seat atop a part of the roof. Her ass had no regard for the delicate architecture or the designed beauty, carving its shape into the structure until it was suited to her comfort. The ceilings inside crumbled, floors caving into subsequent floors, and a constant groan itched from every wall and column as her weight occupied the roof.
“A moment of peace…” Atilda hummed, her wing bringing to her focus the carriage that she had carried all this while. Her eye peered inside through the door, her pupil hunting for the two souls within. A grin went unseen to them as they stumbled over each other, moved about anytime the harpy swayed or shifted her grasp on the carriage. “This is quite busy work, isn’t it, Harmonia? Drinking wine and slaughtering people -- you know how that is, surely!” Her laughter roared into the carriage, the sight of her maw opening wide a frightening image for Harmonia and her maid to witness once again.
Harmonia crawled to the door, hanging tightly to its frame. Her maid hesitantly pulled at her gown to reel her away from the exit, but the countess’s rage could not be subdued. “Y-Y-You…! You… m-monster…! You uncultured killer!” Harmonia’s rant worried the maid into pulling at her again; she was met with a firm backhand across the cheek and a shove to get her away. Harmonia swung right back to the giant, seething, “What more?! What more could you want from me?! You’ve taken… e-everything from me…! My manor, my vineyard, my city…!”
“Fufu~ Is that all you have? Really?” Another laugh bellowed into the carriage, the burst of breath pushing Harmonia away from the door. “I disagree, Harmonia. You have yet more I can take, fufu~ Something precious, that only you humans have -- so you all say, when it comes to murdering my kind.” She tilted the carriage, urging the occupants into a slide closer to the exit as it was brought nearer to her mouth. “Dignity… and I’ve thought of a wonderful way to rob you of that.”
Atilda looked over her seating arrangement, feeling another few supports snap underneath her. Deciding it to be a fitting time, she rammed her ass further backwards into the manor, grinding into the building so that its brick walls were ground to dust and its wooden infrastructure splintered into pieces. All across the manor, the rumbling could not be escape, quakes causing every painting, every vase, every decoration to fall from their positions, assuming they were not destroyed by Atilda’s body itself. With several thrusts, she continued to break down the manor, shredding a significant fraction of it until she was rolling backwards into the wreckage, causing more with her playful movements. Within the shaken carriage, Harmonia shrieked for Atilda to cease and spare the manor, a property her family had built and operated for multiple generations, but Atilda’s rear made short work of it all, leaving the matriarch seated back in a wide split that tore into the manor’s heart.
After spreading herself some additional space amongst the debris, Atilda used both tips of her wings to hold the carriage steady in front of her mouth. “Come, Harmonia~ Enjoy this wine! Let us share a drink as matriarchs! Let that smell tempt you…” Her mouth opened and her tongue sprung free, twisting towards the entrance of the carriage. It was stained red from the wine, radiating the sharp and distinctive scent which filled the carriage even before it raided the inside. Two screams fought against the tongue and its lashing for a target, their kicks unable to hold it off as it coiled around someone’s legs and waist.
The human was pulled from the carriage, hugging the very tendril that abducted her as the open air brushed at her uniform; it was the maid, Atilda discovered, and not the countess she had hunted. The maid begged to be spared, and she was, though her plight had nothing to do with Atilda casting mercy. The tongue unrolled and flicked so that the saliva-drenched woman was thrown off from its tip like a drop of drool. The thick coat of liquid had the maid stick to her immense bosom, her body slumped into the hill of flesh as more spit oozed over her, sealing her where she landed.
Atilda giggled, “No one else to hide behind, Harmonia~” Her song ended with her tongue once again penetrating the carriage, completing a swirl around the interior so that she could not miss the remaining occupant. She hummed with delight upon feeling the resistance against her tongue, the sputtering efforts of a royal being choked by the alcoholic breath. As the same with the maid, Harmonia was ripped out from her shelter, and then discarded with a wad of spit, planted further down the slope of her breast. Atilda shined a mean smile over her captives, amusedly noting how their pristine attire was now stained in a bloody shade of red.
Harmonia gagged as she pulled herself up from the pool of saliva, a struggle that risked her drowning if she failed. She had fully expected to be devoured, and so she frantically searched her surroundings for understanding. Her maid was slowly slipping down to her level, carried lower by the weight of spit. Pushing through the stickiness, Harmonia crawled up the chest and to her servant, grabbing her arm in an attempt to pull her free from the glob. Before she could make progress, however, she was shaken off her balance by a rumbling chortle.
“What game is this?” Harmonia demanded to know, her voice lacking that anger that once burned in her throat. She despairingly looked to the giant, intimidated by the shadowy face that was stark against the cloudless sunset sky. It felt like a different world, a nightmare, to be perched atop the gigantic breast of a bird-creature, surrounded by the ruined interior of the manor she once called home. Everything that once attested to her privileged name was stripped from her and turned into a mocking scape of destruction -- she had no pride left to swell her anger. “Why must you do this…? Has not enough been done…?”
“Certainly not,” Atilda replied. “Do not worry, Harmonia. The fate in store for you is not a violent one, but one of love and companionship. Your punishment will be quite beautiful~ Breathe in that smell, Harmonia… That scent of the harpy… Do you feel it tingle down your spine? Do you feel the heat entering your body? Fufufu~ Accept it~ Accept it, like your proud huntress has…”
Harmonia’s glare blinked like glass cracking. She scoffed, still yet to recover from being spat out onto the harpy’s chest, but heavier than the saliva coat was the meaning behind Atilda’s tease. It seemed like a riddle, one she thought of with every sharp inhale of air -- whatever harpy scent Atilda referred to, it was impossible to detect over the wine’s persistent odor. It became clear, however, what the beast had meant when she spoke of the huntress, and as if lured by that very mention, Reina had appeared.
Her entrance was like the undead crawling out from a grave, first revealed by arms clawing at the skin from where she had been buried. It startled Harmonia, who turned towards the cleavage that her huntress had been submerged in. “R-Reina!” the countess gasped. “Is that… t-truly…?”
Reina groaned as she pulled herself free from the constricting grasp of Atilda’s tits. She shambled forward, weary as she dragged herself up the slope of the breast towards Harmonia. She did not look at the countess, her head seemingly too heavy to be risen, but Harmonia felt a harshness beaming at her, as intense as if being stared directly through. Reina pushed herself to her knees and revealed an empty expression with flicks of loose hair over her face, her entire body moist from an afternoon’s worth of sweat. The sight disgusted Harmonia, who recalled glamorously sending the huntress off, along with her mercenaries, in far better shape than this.
But to see the champion alive was worthy of cheer. “Goodness, i-it’s really you! Reina!” Harmonia stood, successfully so as her balance was impeded by the ever wobbling ground that was the harpy’s mammary. “What has she done to you?! Y-You look like you’ve been through a storm!”
Reina said nothing, likely having heard nothing. It was this lack of response that Harmonia felt the eerie chill of Reina’s condition, sensing an emptiness that was not at all usual to how she presented herself. The once fearless huntress was now blank and without character, cast under a spell that made her an obedient drone. She did not move from having peeled herself free from the fleshy crevice, not until a hum vibrated the air. Atilda, reclined in the ruins, produced a resonating song from her closed lips, a melody that stirred something visceral within Reina.
Influenced by this hum, Reina staggered closer with a limp, feeble arms stretched forward. “C-Countess…” she breathed, almost a hiss. “Countess… Harmonia…”
“R-Reina…” Harmonia backed away, but she was cornered atop the breast’s peak. Another step further risked her slipping down the round slope and into the jagged remains of her manor below. Pushed to this point, Harmonia snarled and moved forward instead to meet with Reina, each step overcoming hesitations. “Reina, wh-what has come of you? You--”
Reina dashed with both arms spread apart, her weight falling over onto Harmonia. The countess gasped and writhed in the grip, struggling to keep the arms off her while also standing her ground. She barked at Reina to cease, but Harmonia was intercepted by a surprise -- a kiss, forced onto her lips aggressively, an abuse she was entirely unaccustomed to. The connection lasted for an eternal second before Harmonia finally whipped free, a crude headbutt used to dissuade Reina from pursuing, though their arms remained tangled in a wrestle.
“E-Enough of this!! What has happened, Reina?! What overcomes you?!” Harmonia panicked, betrayed by someone of her own kind and attacked in such an unfamiliar way. Whenever overpowered by Reina, the huntress groped her or leaned in for more kissing, careless as to what it took to achieve as much. Harmonia whimpered, slowly coming to terms that Reina had been hypnotized; not by magic, but by the infamous influence of a harpy.
Atilda’s razor eye could read into Harmonia’s realization, a fact that she met with a hardy laugh. “You understand, yes?” Atilda giggled mockingly, her humming interrupted to do so. “Your huntress has fallen under my control. She has breathed in the matriarch’s musk and now listens to my song. Can she be broken free from my spell? Fufu~ It would entertain me to see you try~”
Harmonia winced as Reina shoved in for another kiss. She wrangled the arms off her and managed to slip under the huntress during her attempt, partially thanks to a bounce in Atilda’s breasts giving her the boost she needed. After only a few steps, Harmonia was tripped again over the unstable skin, and Reina was swift to come after her, clutching one of her knees to tug her back. Harmonia squealed at being chased and kicked hard with her other foot down on Reina’s shoulder, but she lacked the strength to strike down such a sturdy opponent. Reina crept onward, her fingers ripping at the frills and ends of the countess’s gown in her attempts to restrain her.
“Countess… There is no need to feud…” Reina finally spoke, though Harmonia shrieked louder than her droned speech. “I want only to love you… We are brought together… We must be together…”
Harmonia whined as Reina climbed over her body, her weight putting more strain on the dress until its long skirt ripped. In just half her outfit, Harmonia used this chance to scramble out of Reina’s grasp, crawling quickly up the rotund hill until faced with another obstacle. Standing before her then was her maid, dripping in spit and hunched forward by its weight. Harmonia hesitated, studying the downcast expression -- wavering eyes and shivering lips were signals that she, too, was being warped to Atilda’s whim.
“Countess… My countess…” the maid muttered, her fingers curling unsteadily. Harmonia rose a hand, wanting to be lifted by her servant, but the maid did not even look her in the eye. “I-I can’t… I do not wish to… b-but, I can’t resist… C-Countess, you shouldn’t…”
“Hah. This one hinges on sanity, does she?” Atilda’s coyness flared, rapidly raising Harmonia’s temper. “Your slave is weak-willed, but she has only just listened to my song, smelled my scent… Can you save her, at least? Or, do you not even know her name…?”
Harmonia’s neck stretched, wanting to speak that name aloud. But Atilda was correct, that the countess knew not her own maid’s name, nor any of her loyal staff’s. They were but servants to her, not unlike the furniture in her manor or a resource she could spend. She could list off whole families of investors or nobles, but one of her most trusted maids was nameless to her. Under the maid’s shadow, Harmonia continued to mouth different attempts, but as Atilda hummed on, her hope for freeing her soon faded.
Despair festered within Harmonia, her muscles giving in to the stress and fatigue as all around her turned sour. “Please…” was all she could whimper to her maid. A hand then grabbed her ankle and pulled at her as Reina returned, bound to overtake the countess no matter the toll. As Harmonia stuttered to speak to the huntress, she was then grappled by her maid into a lazy embrace, the servant dropping overtop of her and releasing steamy breaths of desire. Flanked on both sides and prone, Harmonia was easily swamped by the two women, forced into the bed-like breast as they crawled over her struggling form.
The haunting hum was broken by Atilda’s amusement. She shifted in the wreckage, crumbling what was around her and causing unpredictable tremors along her body. Peering straight down at her chest, Atilda unleashed a hot exhale that blanketed the three humans, a simple sigh of delight. “Treat her well, slaves,” she said. “This is your beloved countess, fufu~ Do not spare her any of your affection!”
Awakened by this call, Reina and the maid both jittered from an electric chill. Their gusto increased, both women throwing their arms and legs over any part of Harmonia they could reach. The countess squirmed and shouted, but she could not break out from their pin, helpless to defend herself from their obsessed assaults. Reina hugged Harmonia’s legs even with a heel leveraged against her head, her tongue making long, wet strides from the calves to the thighs. The maid was wedged under Harmonia’s arm, her hands pulling apart the dress and subsequently the corset underneath -- this was in between frantic kisses that pecked at Harmonia’s face and neck, or anywhere that the maid could manage. The attention flustered Harmonia into wild flails, inconsiderate of how she wailed on unwilling humans.
“B-Back away! Release me! No!” Harmonia barked repeatedly. She rolled her maid off of her, only for Reina to climb up her body and apply her warrior’s worth of weight over the noble’s thin frame. “Reina, no! Cease this!” Reina did not listen, instead grabbing Harmonia’s ass while her other arm wrapped over her chest. The maid then returned in a dizzy crawl, subduing Harmonia’s legs by cuddling around them.
A rain of laughter interrupted the humming, like war drums dropped into a lullaby. A constant source of Harmonia’s humiliation was that cold amusement heard from overhead. A massive eye, sharp and fierce, watched the commotion unblinkingly. “Such untame pets you humans tend to make,” Atilda sighed over her captives. “But you are so entertaining~ You will learn to be obedient, I’m sure, fufu~ All of Redrun will~”
Another floor of the manor collapsed under the gigantic harpy’s weight. The snapping of the structure was dulled under Atilda’s mass, a pleasant crunch that welcomed her to relax. Whisked away by a talon were three of the wine barrels, brought up to Atilda so that she may break them open over her mouth and enjoy the bold taste under the setting sun. Three women frolicked on her boobs, among them that obnoxious countess that had dared raise mercenaries against her and her people. Atilda’s retaliation had won her not only Harmonia, but her servants, her champion, and the city itself. The matriarch stretched out her bird legs and crossed one talon over the other, allowing them to hover over a district of Redrun precariously as she dozed off into a casual slumber.