Rody had heard the rumors all week. The hunters were back in the village, returning from the king’s forest with a rare prize. The townsfolk had gathered in the square, gossiping about the creature caught in their traps-a harpy, they said. Half-man, half-bird, the monster of nightmares, gifted to the king as a token of favor.
Rody had been working his fields at the edge of the village, dirt caking under his nails and sweat drenching his brow, but the thought of a harpy-an actual harpy-kept distracting him from his work. He wasn’t one for mingling with the other villagers, and he definitely wasn’t one for sneaking about, but something about the creature called to him. He’d never seen anything like it before, and curiosity gnawed at him.
That evening, after everyone had gone to bed and the village had fallen silent, Rody made his decision. He would sneak into the hunters’ camp, just to catch a glimpse of the harpy. No one would know.
He made his way through the woods, keeping to the shadows as he approached the edge of the camp. The fire still smoldered, casting flickering shadows over the ground. He could see the shape of a large wooden cage in the center of the clearing, covered with thick cloth, presumably to hide the harpy from prying eyes.
His heart hammered in his chest. This was a terrible idea.
Still, his feet moved forward, carrying him toward the cage. He crouched beside it, hands trembling slightly as he reached out and tugged at the corner of the cloth. It lifted just enough for him to peer inside.
At first, he couldn’t see anything. The interior of the cage was dark, save for the glint of something shiny-feathers, he realized. Black feathers, glossy and dark as the night sky. And then, a pair of eyes, sharp and cold, stared back at him.
Rody gasped, stumbling back, but his curiosity was too strong. He edged closer again, this time lifting the cloth higher to get a better view.
The creature was magnificent. Tall and imposing, with the body of a man but covered in dark, sleek feathers that shimmered in the low light. His wings, though bound, were massive, folded behind him like a cloak. His face was angular and fierce, framed by wild, unruly hair. He looked more human than Rody had imagined, but there was something otherworldly in his eyes-something dangerous.
Rody was captivated.
Before he realized what he was doing, his hands reached for the latch on the cage. His mind screamed at him to stop, but his fingers moved on their own, fumbling with the metal lock. His breath quickened, heart racing as he undid the latch and lifted it free.
Just one look, he thought. Just one chance to see the harpy up close.
But the moment the lock clicked open, the harpy surged forward, his wings unfurling in a sudden, violent motion. Rody yelped and stumbled back, but it was too late. The cage door flew open with a loud creak, and the harpy stepped out, stretching his wings to their full span.
Rody froze, horrified at what he had just done.
The harpy stood before him, looming over him with an almost regal presence. His dark eyes flicked down to Rody, narrowing slightly, and Rody’s stomach twisted in fear.
“You…” the harpy’s voice was a low rasp, his expression unreadable. “You freed me.”
Rody shook his head, scrambling to his feet. “No, I- I didn’t mean to!”
The harpy tilted his head, his lips curling into a faint, amused smile. “Didn’t mean to? Then what were you doing, human?”
“I just wanted to- I wasn’t going to-” Rody stammered, backing away slowly. “I didn’t mean to free you, I swear.”
The harpy chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down Rody’s spine. “Whether you meant to or not, I’m free now.”
Rody’s mind raced. The hunters-what if they came back? What if they found the cage empty? What if they found *him* standing here, next to the freed harpy? His heart pounded in his chest. He was dead for sure. They would think he was some sort of saboteur, trying to ruin their offering to the king.
“I… I have to go,” Rody stammered, turning to run.
But before he could take a single step, the harpy moved faster than he expected, grabbing him by the wrist. His grip was strong, and Rody winced at the sharpness of his talons pressing into his skin.
“You’ve freed me” the harpy said, his voice soft but dangerous. “I’m indebted to you.”
Rody’s mouth went dry. “I… I didn’t mean to…”
The harpy released his wrist, stepping back and spreading his wings wide. “It doesn’t matter what you meant. I’m not leaving.”
Without another word, the harpy launched himself into the air, his massive wings carrying him up into the night sky. Rody watched in stunned silence, heart still racing, as the creature disappeared into the darkness.
For a moment, he thought it was over. He thought the harpy was gone.
But then, as he turned to flee back to his hut, he heard the sound of wings beating the air behind him. He spun around, eyes wide, and there, perched on a tree branch just above him, was the harpy.
Rody’s stomach dropped.
“What are you doing?” he whispered, barely able to find his voice.
The harpy’s dark eyes glinted in the moonlight. “I told you, human. You freed me. Now, I will stay.”
“But- but they’ll find you! They’ll come looking for you!”
The harpy chuckled softly, a deep, unsettling sound. “Let them come.”
Rody’s knees felt weak. “I’m going to be killed,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair in a panic.
The harpy tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Not while I’m here.”
Rody swallowed hard, staring up at the creature perched above him. He had freed a harpy, and now it wouldn’t leave him alone.
Rody’s mind spun as he stared up at the harpy, perched like a vulture watching its prey. The gravity of his mistake was settling in fast, tightening in his chest. He had freed a creature that shouldn’t even exist, one that could easily get him killed. The hunters would tear the village apart looking for it, and when they found out who was responsible…
His stomach churned.
“You need to leave,” Rody whispered urgently, backing away from the tree. “You can’t stay here. They’ll come looking for you, and they’ll-“
“They will fail,” the harpy interrupted, his voice low and almost amused. His wings rustled slightly as he shifted on the branch, his dark gaze fixed on Rody. “You seem to forget, human. I am not easily caught.”
Rody clenched his fists, his pulse racing. “I’m not worried about *you*. I’m worried about *me*. If they find out I freed you-if they even suspect-I’ll be executed. I can’t-“
The harpy leapt from the branch, landing lightly in front of Rody. He was impossibly graceful for his size, towering over Rody, his wings folding neatly against his back. His presence was overwhelming, like a force of nature that Rody had no control over.
“You worry too much,” the harpy said, his tone almost teasing. “I could kill every hunter in that camp before they even draw their swords.”
Rody recoiled at the casual way the harpy spoke of killing. His stomach twisted. “I don’t want that,” he said firmly. “I just want you to go-disappear before anyone finds out I had anything to do with this.”
The harpy’s eyes glinted, a predatory smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And yet, here I am.” He stepped closer, forcing Rody to stumble back. “You freed me. I owe you a debt.”
“A *debt*?” Rody repeated, disbelief in his voice. He felt like he was trapped in some twisted dream. “I don’t want anything from you! I just want my life to go back to normal.”
“Normal?” The harpy scoffed, the sound almost mocking. “You freed a harpy, and you think life will return to normal?” His sharp eyes bore into Rody, piercing and unreadable. “Foolish human.”
Rody clenched his jaw, frustration rising alongside his fear. “Then what do you want from me?” he asked, exasperated. “Why won’t you leave?”
For a long moment, the harpy said nothing. His dark feathers shimmered faintly in the moonlight, and his expression softened just enough for Rody to sense something… different. A flicker of emotion he couldn’t place.
“You fascinate me,” the harpy said quietly, his voice a low rasp. “A human who frees a creature like me… and instead of asking for power, or riches, you ask for *nothing*.”
Rody blinked, taken aback. “What… what would I want with power or riches?”
The harpy studied him closely, as though trying to unravel a puzzle. “Most humans are greedy. They seek to control what they don’t understand. But you-” He leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing. “You freed me out of *curiosity*. That is… rare.”
Rody’s heart pounded in his chest, and he didn’t know whether to feel flattered or terrified. “It was a mistake,” he muttered, trying to back away, but the harpy’s gaze held him in place. “I didn’t mean to-“
“And yet, you did.” The harpy stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And now, you are bound to me.”
Rody swallowed hard, his pulse racing. “I didn’t ask for that.”
“No,” the harpy said, his voice like silk. “But it doesn’t matter. You cannot undo it.”
Rody’s mind spun, panic clawing at him. “What… what does that even mean?”
The harpy smiled, the expression predatory but not unkind. “It means, human, that I’m yours now. Wherever you go, I will follow.”
Rody’s blood ran cold. “That’s not- I didn’t agree to that!”
“You didn’t need to,” the harpy replied smoothly, his gaze unwavering. “It is the way of things. You freed me, and now I am bound to you, whether you like it or not.”
Rody stared at him, disbelief and fear warring in his chest. He hadn’t asked for this. He hadn’t wanted *any* of this. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of the forest, with a harpy-one of the most dangerous creatures in existence-claiming him.
His throat felt tight, and he struggled to find his voice. “What… what do you expect me to do?”
The harpy tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “Live your life. I will remain near.”
Rody’s brow furrowed. “*Near*? You can’t just- I can’t have you following me around!”
The harpy’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Why not?”
“Because people will notice!” Rody snapped, the panic finally bubbling over. “People will realize I’m connected to you! They’ll figure it out!”
The harpy chuckled, the sound dark and soft. “Let them try.”
Rody groaned, running a hand through his hair. This was a disaster. An absolute disaster. He had no idea how to get rid of the harpy, and worse, the creature seemed determined to stay with him.
“Fine,” Rody muttered, rubbing his temples. “But if you’re going to stick around, at least try to stay out of sight.”
The harpy’s smile widened. “As you wish, human.”
Rody sighed, already regretting everything. He just hoped this wouldn’t get him killed.
The harpy’s predatory smile lingered as he leapt up into the branches, disappearing into the dark canopy above. Rody could barely see him now, hidden in the shadows, but he felt the weight of his presence, watching, waiting. He let out a long, shaky breath, his nerves still shot. What had he gotten himself into?
He had to get back to the village before someone noticed he was gone. But now, there was the added complication of a harpy following him. He cast a glance up at the trees, half-expecting the harpy to swoop down and cause more chaos, but all he saw was the faint flutter of feathers as the creature moved silently above him.
“This is fine,” Rody muttered to himself, taking a deep breath. “I’ll just sneak back into my house, lie low, and… hope no one connects me to the missing harpy.”
The harpy’s laugh, low and amused, drifted down from the trees. “You really believe it will be that simple?”
Rody grimaced, quickening his pace. “You’re not helping.”
He weaved through the trees, his heart still racing, hoping against hope that the hunters hadn’t realized the harpy was gone yet. If he was lucky, maybe the creature’s escape would remain unnoticed until the morning. He could be long gone by then. Maybe he could even pretend he didn’t know anything if someone asked-
The sound of wings unfurling above him made Rody flinch, and before he could react, the harpy swooped down, landing gracefully right in front of him, blocking his path.
“Leaving so soon?” the harpy asked, tilting his head slightly. His black eyes gleamed in the faint moonlight, unnerving Rody with their intensity.
“I don’t have time for this,” Rody said, his frustration building. “If you’re going to stick around, at least let me get home without causing more trouble.”
The harpy chuckled, a deep, unsettling sound. “Trouble seems to follow you, human. Perhaps you should embrace it.”
Rody scowled, sidestepping the creature and continuing toward the village. He didn’t have the energy to argue with a harpy. Not after the night he’d had. “Just… stay hidden. I need to keep my head down.”
“As you wish,” the harpy said smoothly, though his tone was laced with amusement.
The rest of the walk back to the village was tense but uneventful. Rody could feel the harpy’s gaze on him the entire time, but true to his word, the creature remained out of sight, flitting between the trees like a shadow. By the time Rody reached the outskirts of the village, his nerves were fried. He just wanted to get home, crawl into bed, and pretend none of this had ever happened.
Slipping into his small, rundown house, Rody shut the door behind him and leaned against it, exhaling heavily. His thoughts were racing, his mind filled with every possible way this could go wrong. How was he supposed to explain a harpy if anyone found out?
The faint rustling of wings outside reminded him that the harpy hadn’t left. He glanced toward the window, half-expecting to see the creature perched on the roof or peering in, but there was nothing. Still, he knew better than to assume the harpy had simply gone.
Rody sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his messy hair. This was a nightmare. An actual nightmare. He hadn’t asked for this-he just wanted to see the harpy, not release it and ruin his life.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the window. He froze, dread curling in his gut. Slowly, he turned his head toward the sound. The harpy’s face was pressed against the glass, his dark eyes staring at Rody with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
Rody groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Of course,” he muttered. “Of course, you followed me all the way here.”
The harpy tapped the window again, his expression unbothered. “Did you expect otherwise?”
“Yes,” Rody snapped, his voice muffled by his hands. “Yes, I did. I expected you to leave me alone!”
The harpy’s lips curved into a small, almost affectionate smile. “I told you, human. You are bound to me now. I cannot simply leave.”
Rody dropped his hands, glaring at the creature. “Why me? Why couldn’t you just fly away and disappear into the wild?”
The harpy’s smile faded, replaced by something more thoughtful. “You are… different.”
“Different?” Rody repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I’m a peasant. I’m as ordinary as they come.”
“Not to me,” the harpy said quietly. He glanced toward the horizon, where the first hints of dawn were starting to break. “You freed me. No one else would have dared.”
Rody fell silent, unsure how to respond. The harpy’s words hung in the air, heavy and strange. There was something deeper in his gaze now, something that made Rody’s skin prickle with unease-and maybe, just a little, curiosity.
“You should rest,” the harpy said, his voice softer than before. “The hunters will search in the morning.”
Rody blinked, still reeling from the bizarre situation. He didn’t know if he could sleep with a harpy lurking outside his window, but exhaustion was already weighing on him, and he had no fight left in him tonight.
With a final glance at the harpy, Rody collapsed onto his bed, pulling the thin blanket over himself. He stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.
The harpy remained by the window, silent and watchful, a dark silhouette against the lightening sky.
Rody closed his eyes, hoping against hope that when he woke up, this would all just be a strange dream.
But deep down, he knew it wasn’t.
Rody drifted in and out of a restless sleep, his dreams filled with visions of dark feathers and piercing eyes. He tossed and turned, the harpy’s presence looming in his subconscious like a storm cloud ready to break. Every so often, he thought he heard the faint rustling of wings, but when he jolted awake, the room was silent, save for his own uneven breathing.
By the time the first light of dawn crept through the window, Rody was already awake, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. The events of the previous night replayed in his mind in a frantic loop, each moment worse than the last. The hunters. The harpy. The impossible bond between them.
He sighed, rubbing his face as he sat up. His body felt heavy with exhaustion, but he couldn’t afford to rest any longer. The hunters would be combing the area soon, searching for their escaped prize. He needed to figure out how to distance himself from all of this-how to make sure no one connected him to the harpy.
The thought made him freeze. The harpy.
Slowly, Rody turned to the window, half-expecting to find the creature still perched outside, watching him. But the window was empty, the sky beyond a pale wash of early morning light. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, feeling an odd mix of relief and unease.
*Maybe he’s finally gone,* Rody thought, standing up and moving toward the window. He leaned out, scanning the rooftops and nearby trees. Nothing. The harpy was nowhere to be seen.
A small part of him-an irrational part, he admitted-felt almost disappointed. As much as he’d dreaded the harpy’s presence, the abrupt silence left a strange void.
Shaking his head, Rody pulled away from the window. He couldn’t afford to waste time worrying about a creature like that. He had to think of himself now, about surviving whatever fallout was sure to come when the hunters realized the harpy was gone.
But as he began to dress and prepare for the day, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, one he couldn’t quite shake. Why had the harpy taken such an interest in him? What did it mean to be “bound” to him?
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Rody’s heart skipped a beat. He stood frozen for a moment, his mind immediately jumping to the worst possibility. *Had the hunters found him already?*
Another knock, more insistent this time.
With a deep breath, Rody moved to the door, steeling himself for whatever-or whoever-was waiting on the other side. He opened it cautiously, eyes widening when he saw not a group of hunters, but a familiar dark figure standing in the early morning light.
The harpy.
“What are you-” Rody started, but the words caught in his throat as the harpy stepped forward, his gaze intense and unreadable.
“I told you I would not leave,” the harpy said quietly, his wings twitching slightly at his sides. “I am bound to you, Rody.”
Hearing the harpy speak his name sent an odd chill down Rody’s spine. He hadn’t told the creature his name, had he?
Rody closed the door behind him quickly, panic rising in his chest. “You can’t just show up here!” he hissed. “Someone will see you!”
The harpy raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by the concern. “They will see only what I allow them to see.”
Rody’s hands clenched into fists. “That’s not- Look, you can’t stay here. You have to hide or something. The hunters will be looking for you, and if they find you-“
“They will not find me,” the harpy interrupted, his voice low and calm. “You worry for nothing.”
“Nothing?” Rody echoed, his frustration boiling over. “My *life* is on the line here, and you call it nothing?”
The harpy studied him for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. “I have no intention of bringing harm to you, Rody. If anyone comes, I will protect you.”
“Protect me?” Rody’s voice was incredulous. “From *what*? The hunters? You’re the one who put me in this situation in the first place!”
The harpy’s gaze softened, a strange flicker of something like remorse passing through his expression. “I did not ask to be freed,” he said quietly. “But I am free now, because of you. And for that, I am grateful.”
Rody was taken aback by the sudden shift in the harpy’s tone. He hadn’t expected anything resembling gratitude or humility from the creature. The harpy had been so arrogant, so dismissive of human life the night before-this change left Rody uncertain how to respond.
“I… I didn’t mean to free you,” Rody muttered after a moment, running a hand through his hair. “It was an accident.”
The harpy’s lips curled into a faint smile. “An accident or not, it has tied us together. And I will not abandon you.”
Rody’s chest tightened with a mix of frustration and confusion. He didn’t want to be tied to a harpy. He didn’t want this strange, dangerous bond hanging over him like a death sentence. But now, it seemed, there was no escaping it.
The harpy stepped closer, his presence commanding but not threatening. “I will not let harm come to you, Rody,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You have my word.”
Rody stared at him, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t sure if he could trust the creature-not yet. But something in the harpy’s eyes made him pause. There was a sincerity there, a quiet intensity that made Rody believe, if only for a moment, that the harpy meant what he said.
With a heavy sigh, Rody ran a hand down his face. “This is insane,” he muttered. “Absolutely insane.”
The harpy’s smile widened slightly. “Perhaps. But it is your reality now.”
Rody groaned. “Great. Just what I needed.”
The harpy chuckled softly, a sound that sent a strange, warm feeling through Rody’s chest. “Do not worry, human. I will keep you safe.”
Rody stared at the harpy, his mind still struggling to grasp the reality of his situation. The weight of the harpy’s promise, while strangely comforting, also felt like a heavy chain around his neck. He hadn’t asked for this bond, and he certainly didn’t want the added danger. Yet, here he was, standing in his humble home with a mythical creature pledging to protect him from the very world it had once been caged by.
“You can’t just say that and expect me to be fine with it,” Rody finally said, shaking his head. “I don’t want protection. I just want my life back-without hunters, or harpies, or any of this madness.”
The harpy tilted his head, feathers ruffling as he seemed to consider Rody’s words. “Your life was never yours to control, Rody. Not before me, and not after.” His tone was matter-of-fact, as if the idea of true freedom was laughable. “But I understand your frustration. Humans have fragile lives, always one step away from danger.”
Rody blinked, taken aback by the harpy’s bluntness. “I’m not fragile.”
The harpy’s lips quirked into a knowing smile. “No, not in the way most humans are.” His gaze lingered on Rody for a moment, an unreadable intensity behind his dark eyes. “You did something extraordinary last night. Whether you meant to or not, you freed me. And now we are linked by that act.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” Rody grumbled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “But I don’t understand it. Why me? I didn’t do anything special.”
The harpy stepped closer, his presence casting a shadow over the room. “There is more to you than you realize, Rody. Perhaps fate chose you. Or perhaps it was sheer chance. But whatever the reason, we are bound now.”
Rody backed up slightly, his nerves on edge. “Bound? You keep saying that. What does it even mean?”
The harpy’s eyes glinted with something sharp, yet almost playful. “It means I will not leave you. I am yours, and you are mine.”
Rody’s face flushed, and he quickly turned away, cursing under his breath. “I… I don’t want a harpy following me around like a-like a shadow!”
The harpy’s wings shifted slightly, brushing against Rody as he stood close. “I am no mere shadow, human. But if you wish me to stay unseen, I will.”
Rody turned back to him, crossing his arms over his chest. “And if I want you to leave me alone completely?”
The harpy’s expression softened, though the intensity in his eyes remained. “That is not something I can do. The bond between us will not be so easily severed.”
Rody clenched his fists in frustration. “So I’m just stuck with you?”
The harpy nodded once. “Yes. But know this-whatever danger comes, I will shield you from it. Whether it be hunters, or kings, or anything else that seeks to harm you.”
Rody let out a long sigh, sinking down into the nearest chair. “This is too much. All I wanted was a quiet life-maybe scrape by in the village, maybe not… but this? I’m not cut out for any of this.”
The harpy crouched down in front of him, wings folding elegantly behind his back. “Life rarely gives us what we want, Rody. But it gives us what we need.”
Rody looked at him, brow furrowed in confusion. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you have more strength than you know,” the harpy said softly. “And that strength will be tested. You are not alone in this.”
Rody held the harpy’s gaze for a long moment, feeling something shift inside him-a mix of frustration, fear, and a strange sense of relief. As much as he hated to admit it, part of him felt oddly reassured by the harpy’s presence. There was something undeniably powerful about the creature, something that made Rody feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t entirely doomed.
Still, the idea of being tied to a harpy-an *ancient* harpy, no less-was unsettling. “What’s your name, anyway?” Rody asked suddenly, the question popping into his head.
The harpy blinked, then gave him a faint smile. “Vincent.”
“Vincent,” Rody repeated, testing the name on his tongue. It didn’t fit the creature’s wild, otherworldly appearance, but somehow it felt right. He couldn’t explain why.
The harpy-Vincent-nodded, standing up gracefully. “And now that you know my name, our bond is even stronger.”
Rody rolled his eyes. “Great. Just what I needed.”
Vincent chuckled, his voice low and almost melodic. “You’ll understand in time, Rody.”
With that, Vincent turned toward the window, his wings stretching out slightly as if preparing to take flight. “I will remain nearby. Call for me if you need anything.”
Before Rody could respond, Vincent leaped through the window with a sudden burst of energy, his wings catching the morning light as he soared into the sky, disappearing into the trees.
Rody sat there for a moment, stunned and bewildered, before burying his face in his hands with a groan. “This is insane,” he muttered to himself. “I’m completely, absolutely doomed.”
But despite the chaos swirling around him, Rody couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of certainty settle over him. As if, somehow, everything would be okay.
Even if his life had been completely, irrevocably changed.
Comment