Wizardness

She struck a pose as she thrust the head towards the sun. The head had been severed recently enough that blood still emptied out of the neck wound. That and she had wrapped it so the blood would stay in the head. The blood dripping added a lot to the effect.
A cry came from the sky. She had been expecting this. She had killed one of their own after all. She threw the head off the mountain top. It quickly tumbled out of sight. A flame burst from where the head might have been. A small explosion followed. She pulled off her gloves and dropped them in the bloody mud next to her mountain bike.
She knew they’d follow her soon. The cursed “gods.” She threw her head back and chortled. She was a warrior, she feared no pretender god. They would all end up like what’s his name down there.
She spun her bike around and began the steep decent to the valley floor below. She couldn’t help notice the sky began to turn a deep red. It wasn’t passed mid-afternoon.
She glanced over her shoulder as she pedaled, gathering speed. The sun looked like it was pouring down into the valley. The top half of the sun was already a bright blackness. It stood out in the blood red of the sky.
“You know, Solinea, I am Duarnne and I do not fear you.” She, Duarnne, cried. “I will meet you in the valley. I will send you back to whatever hell that spawned you.”
Duarnne adjusted a small pump on her bike’s frame and began to hurtle down the mountain side. The dying sun cast long shadows on the path. The descent was treacherous with a sky full of sunlight. Now, it was deadly. Duarnne cared not. She grinned as she pedaled faster. Her purple bike deftly handled the worst of the rocks.
Soon, a menacing orange glow greeted her from the bottom of the trail. Even though she had miles before the trail bottomed out, she could see the warm flickering flames.
Solinea, the usurper. The head of this new pantheon. Malloten, the bloody head, had been her consort. He tried to claim the mountains. He had said, “I claim these peaks, as they reach up to touch you, to be closest to you.”
These mountains weren’t claimable. These mountains were Duarnne’s. Malloten refused to admit that.
Purple Rain kicked rocks out from under Duarnne. She heard a few ricochett off near by trees. She was getting closer. Already below the tree line. She switched gears and pedaled harder.
Duarnne found herself swinging passed the valley on a switchback. It was aglow with fire and Solinea’s snake. It was difficult to discern where one started and the other ended. The fire obscured the eerie sky, the red and black of the sun. Instead, there was nothing but smoke. Cowards hide behind smoke. Solinea was afraid of Duarnne.
As Duarnne rode closer she began to map her attack vector. There was an arch between Mt. Humor and Mt. Sorrow, Duarnne could launch from there. The snake was coiled around a massive piece of Humor. It had sheared off a millenia ago. The wind had shaped it. It was vaguely head shaped.
Duarnne smirked, she imagined the dumb snake was trying to will the head to turn into her dead lover. Gods do have a lot of power, but they’ve never had the power to revive one of their own and certainly not a poseur like Solinea.
The path was getting dark, Duarnne glanced up at the sun, it was nearly obsidian. The valley was glowing as bright as the afternoon sun. Duarnne’s smirk turned into a wild laugh. Wild and free like a mustang. Like Purple Rain. She could feel the joy from the bike. As if it was joining in with her laugh. Rocks shot out from the bike tires almost in time with her chortle.
Duarnne rounded a curve and there it was, the land bridge arch. It was massive, wide enough for a small village. It was empty though. Fire raged up both sides of the arch, casting strange shadows as the light fought itself.
She threw herself into pedaling. She was going 50 miles an hour, 60, 70, 80. The bridge was there. She glanced down, saw the snake. She judged where the head would be, she’d only have one shot.
She judged her jump well. Solinea moved into her line of attack. Snake’s head swung to see what would move into the fire.
Duarnne pulled her bike pump from under her cross bar. She flung her arm down extending the pump. When she brought her arm back up, the pump was a gleaming lance. Duarnne set it in her left pedal, where she hadmore control and thrust it through the beast’s eye.
The snake reared its head, trying to catch Duarnne. She flicked her wheels up to meet the maw, tires caught grip on the scales of Solinea’s upper lip.
Duarnne swung the lance’s butt forward, scrambling whatever counted for the snake’s brain. She felt the opposite eye pop. As Purple Rain naturally pulled her away from the snake’s head, Duarnne turned the lance into a giant barbed arrowhead.
She guided Purple Rain rain down the back of the snake, letting her momentum pull the vicious weapon out of the eye socket. Gore and brains followed behind her. Once the weapon fell to the snake’s body, she turned it into a razor sharp scythe and let it drag behind her.
Duarnne could feel Purple Rain suffering beneath her. The wheels were catching fire.
Duarnne returned the pump to the frame and pedaled harder and faster than she’d ever pedaled before. The snake thrashed and rolled beneath Purple Rain in an attempt to crush Duarnne or perhaps they were just death throes. Duarnne couldn’t tell.
At long last, Duarnne found a safe place to jump from the snakes back. A small cloud of steam indicated a stream. She jumped, landing roughly. The suspension was rock hard. The oil had nearly boiled out.
Duarnne came to a stop and looked back at her handiwork.
The snake had crushed the head shaped rock. The flames were guttering, leaving only the forest ablaze in their wake. That would end soon, as a storm was fast approaching.
Duarnne staggered suddenly. A mind numbing crack pierced the sky. Despite the noise, she glanced sunward. The obsidian shield was shattered. The remains were cast off the sun and smashed upon the snake’s corpse.
Duarnne stroked her bike. The tires returned to normal. The suspension sighed in relief.
Duarnne rode back to the arch to look at the stones that crashed upon Solinea. They were shaped in a rough amphitheater shape. The story of her battles were etched into the stones at the top. As she was admiring it, she glanced over, Finn was standing there, Solinea’s father, the god of the sun.
“I grant you the title of goddess of the Mountains.” Finn boomed.
Duarnne snorted, she grabbed her pump and pointed the sword at his throat. “Two things. You can’t give me what I took for myself. You’re lucky I like surfing, otherwise I’d have your job.”
Finn staggered back. He tried to raise himself up to tower over her, but some how, he just became smaller and smaller.
“Fucking mediocre men.” Duarnne scoffed. She turned and wheeled Purple Rain towards the coast. A surfboard appeared on her back.