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Fantasy The Chosen of Seven

The harpy had the hem of her shirt pinched between his knuckles, claws curled inwards and as far away from the fabric as his joints allowed. There was nothing special about the gesture, it was a perfectly logical way of doing it, simple and easy. And yet she couldn’t look away, gaze trapped by this sudden fondness blooming in her chest. There was just something so familiar about that gesture. 


Her hand moved on its own, but she didn’t think twice about going through with the motion, and she felt no regret when her fingers eventually wrapped around Kito’s wrist. The feathers covering his arm and hand were indeed shorter, but they were just as soft, nothing like her coarse fur. It was hard not to indulge in the feeling of brushing fingers through the soft plumage, but she held herself back in respect. No doubt the harpy was not used to having his hands touched, if his flinch was any indication. 


‘I’ve had worst than them’ and ‘I trust you’ echoed in her head, looming over her thoughts like a dark cloud.


“Understood,” she spoke, voice feather soft. “A crew member would be not able to serve as our guide anyway."


"And they won’t be terribly missed,” she added, casting a sour look over her shoulder. 


“North-east…” she echoed Kito's words as she took another glance, this time at the edge of the forest. As much as she wanted to delay the inevitable, there really was no reason to keep the Gods waiting, no matter the motive behind her fears. A sigh was all the protest she allowed herself. “Alright, let’s not waste daylight then.” 


Phoebe pushed down slightly on Kito’s wrist, a silent request to let go of her shirt, frozen as he still was in his grip. As soon as he did so, she began to walk towards the edge of the forest, focusing on her breathing in hopes that a more meditative state would calm down the irrationally exited part of her. She could feel the pull. Felt it the moment they set their feet on shore. These were not the small and quiet woods she was used to. These were not the forests surrounding the floating Islands of Eden. This was the Great Forest, pulsing with life, untouched, unconfined, wild and uncontrollable. Nature at its purest and vicious. 


She stoped right at the edge, staring into what she couldn’t see in the shadows between the trees. The last thing she wanted to do was to show weakness, yet she still waited for Kito to catch up to her and stand by her side, at once glad and terrified that she wasn’t going in alone. If he said something to her, then she didn’t hear it over the drumming of her heart.


Timed seemed to whiz by and suddenly they were a good ways into the forest. The trees were getting taller, the foliage thicker and the beaten path thinner. The sound of birds and insects had gotten louder too, and the sensory overload was making it hard to focus inwards and ignore the urges crawling beneath her skin. Sweat had started to drip down her back, making everything clingy and suffocating. She wondered if Kito could sweat, since birds couldn’t, and briefly wondered why she didn’t know that.


Knowledge, or lack of knowledge. That was definitely something she could hold on to.  


“Can you sweat?” she asked, flinching at her own directness. “I mean, for some reason there aren’t many books about harpies back at the library, so I can’t help but be curious about your anatomy and biology.” Phoebe flinched again. That sounded even worse. “I don’t mean to be rude, or pry. It’s just,” she stoped to jump over a fallen tree trunk, glad that it wasn’t as thick as the others. “It’s my specialty, my job if you will, to define something by a set of characteristics. Give it a name. And arrange things into neat little boxes." 


She was rambling again. She knew that, and yet she couldn’t help it. It was the only way to keep calm. To keep her human side anchored. 


“I do that with stars, with animals, plants. But I’ve never dwelled much in the classification of,” she hesitated here, glancing sideways at the young harpy, “Of sentient species.” 


The canopy opened up, letting light shine through and revealing the slope of an approaching mountain where a bunch of small houses seemed to have settled. 



 




@Jayus
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The further they travelled into the forest the more alive it felt. Light filtered through the leaves of the smaller trees and trickled across the ground like a glowing vein pulsing with the essence of the island. A few insects darted through the air, but never for very long, the only evidence they were even there was the songs they left behind. Kito was fascinated with the island, green as far as the eye could see in every direction, yet still bursting with colour. It glittered with a cold dew, the droplets welcome on his sticky skin. He ruffled his feathers a bit, cool air wrapping itself around him in a gentle embrace and he sighed contently. Phoebe, however, was not doing as well. 


"Oh yeah I do sweat, but the feathers help a ton. You just open up your wings a bit and cold air comes in and then it sweeps away the extra hot air. So I don't feel the heat much!" He beamed. Phoebe's hair, however, clung to her like a second skin and her olive colouring was radiating in a red gleam. Kito wasn't used to seeing people handle temperature change so drastically even in the most extremes of weather. It was almost funny and just a little bit cute. Fluttering one wing he raised it over her head forming a very feathered canopy to block whatever heat from above and create as much shade as possible. He wasn't sure if it was helping her much, but it was better than nothing. 


Sky hidden behind trees crept through and soon enough the sliver of light that leaked through the trees spilled out in a mad rush. It was blinding. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the thatched roofs and wooden homes. His gaze widened and sparkled in excitement for a moment at the thought of nice people, but he paused. One of these people was about to show him his way to his weapon. He was starting to feel nervous again.


"You know we can swap if you need to." 


"No no we can stick to routine. You always arrive in the afternoon remember?"


"Fine, but it's still an option."


He straightened himself out. Arriving in the town they stumbled upon what must've been the marketplace. Which was simply two or three stalls selling fish, fruit and what looked to be crystals from deeper in the island. The person who went fishing didn't seem to be the best option, but the person selling fruit seemed sweet enough. She was an old lady with a teenage boy laying next to her looking awfully bored. Kito walked over, forcing Phoebe to follow him. 


"Hello!" Kito said with an infectious grin. The lady smiled back before noticing his arms, her mouth fell open slightly. Kito's grin faltered, but he did his best to hold it.


"What's with yer arms?" The boy asked looking up from his parchment he had been reading. The lady shot him a look, but the boy didn't even blink. It was Kito's turn for his mouth to fall open.


"B-born with them."


The boy smirked. "Cool." 


Kito blinked. Cool? Did he hear right? He looked to Phoebe who confirmed what he heard and Kito was very much near tears he was so stupidly happy. Biting back the lump in his throat he smiled sheepishly and continued with what he wanted to say.


"I w-was wondering i-if there's anbody who know where my sword is? Forest Edge I believe the name is?"


The woman scoffed. "Are you implying you are one of the Chosen?"


Kito shrunk down a few centimetres at her tone and started fiddling with his fingers. Why did he think this would be easier than it was.


"Oi Aunty clearly he is." The boy said lowering his parchment to his lap. "Why would any ol' idiot come this far to get destroyed by a sword?" He jeered at her. The woman glared, but ultimately accepted his point. Kito didn't like the sound of that. Destroyed? He must be exaggerating... right? The boy put the parchment down on the table and looked between the two of them.


"Who this?" He asked Kito. 


"M-my partner, Phoebe Silva." He stammered shyly. The boy looked between them and nodded his head. "Ah so yer both one of those couples." Kito's face went beetroot as he repeated over and over in terribly idiotic ways how that wasn't the case. The boy raised his hands in defeat. 


"A'ight, A'ight my bad. But yeah I know where it is. Me old man and his sister knows where it is too. And I think the crystal guy knows a thing or two on how to get there. Now I don' mind taking you since I got nothin' better to do, but if you want me to go grab me dad I don't mind doing that for you." He looked over to the lady with a knowing cockiness. "Aunty won't stop me." And with her lips pursed she confirmed his words. Kito looked over to Phoebe and nudged her, waiting for her to give the deciding decision on who to make their guide.


@SepiaInk
 
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Roman & Adruo (ft. Almas)
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The next morning, Romon awoke with a wince as the sun shone into his eyes, breaking his deep slumber, whatever it was that was in the Salve that Akina had given them... it had knocked him out pretty hard. Based on the sun it had to be at least mid morning, early afternoon at the latest. Given that Romon was usually up and about at dawn, this shocked the elf, and if not for a sudden realization that Adruo’s legs were still underneath him. Turning his head, the elf gazed up at his dragonkin companion, who was still sleeping above him.  She had fallen asleep on watch it seemed, the sun was shining on her, and Romon couldn’t help but smile. “You know...she’s kinda cute when she’s asleep.”

After accidentally uttering those words, Romon’s face burned a bright crimson and he instinctively looked around to make sure nobody heard. Fortunately for him, the only creature around was Beatrice lazily flying above them, occasionally letting out a caw.


Shaking his head to regain his senses, Romon shook his friend.


“Hey. Hey Adruo, wake up.”


Adruo gave a groan as she slowly rose from her slumber. With a lot of effort, she got into a sitting position before cracking open one eye then the other. It took several seconds before she was able to focus her sight on anything. The sun was surprisingly high considering the last time she remembered checking its position. She must have dozed off shortly before dawn.


What she noticed next took her rather long to process. Romon was still resting his head on her lap. She gave him a half asleep smile before yawning. “Morning Romon.” She stretched her clawed hands out, popping the bones in her arms.


Following suit and beginning to stretch himself Romon pushed himself to his feet. He then gave Adruo a bit of a sheepish grin. “Sorry about uh...last night. I acted pretty lame back there.” Romon let out a laugh, and started working on camp. “So how close are we to the library anyway? We didn’t ask back in Pagus and we’ve been traveling hard ever since. You got a map on you?” Romon was doing his best to erase his breakdown from his mind, the last thing he wanted was to remember...that.


“Hm?” Adruo blinked a few times before shaking herself fully awake. “Oh yes, I do actually.” She dug around her satchel, bringing out a worn parchment. Unrolling the map of Pangeros that she had shown the new saviours before they left Eden, she studied their path.


“Pagus is roughly here, and with the speed we were traveling, we should be here.” She indicated the location with her talon. “Which means we’re about a day’s travel from the library.” The dragonkin looked up at Romon with a beaming smile. “So we’re pretty close.”


Romon let out something akin to a cheer as he started collecting bits and pieces of the their ramshackled camp. “You know, I never asked you about the library...it’s a pretty big place isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever been to a library.” Romon paused, packing, and his voice suddenly became a bit nervous.


“Hey adruo, you know if the puzzles require much reading or writing?”


The dragonkin furrowed her brows as she tried to recall the tales she knew of the puzzles. “I don't think there is any writing for you to do, but all of the clues are written.” Adruo gave a shrug. “They had to pass on the information one way or another.” She also set about the task of packing her things.


Romon sighed.


“Yeah… figures. I don’t suppose you could help me out with those? I uh...kinda suck at reading. Parents only taught me the basics...and where I’m from, books aren’t exactly easy to come by.” Romon gave a helpless shrug. “Even when I became the elven blade, nobody did a literacy test...I got put to work as a soldier fast. Since I mainly worked in villages...well, no books there either.” Romon let out a sad laugh. “Some kind of hero I am, I can barely read!” Unlike last night however, this self slight had mirth in it, as if he was poking fun of himself.


Adruo blinked several times at Romon’s admittance. However, his request for her aid made her smile in joy. “Of course I’ll help!” The dragonkin had always loved reading, so she could prove herself to be useful. Another idea came to her mind which caused her to knit her brows together once again. “Hey Romon…”


She stopped herself. Even though the elf was jesting at himself, it probably still worried him. It was a pretty big drawback especially with the task ahead of them. Perhaps her idea would only damage his pride, which - for an elf - meant a lot. No, Romon was calmer than most elves she had met. Adruo took a deep breath to steel herself.


“If you want, I could teach you a little.” She tried to offer in a casual manner to allow it to be easily brushed off just in case.


Romon stopped for a moment freezing still. A normal elf would have turn and probably slapped the poor dragonkin girl. Fortunately for Adruo, Romon was a calmer than average elf, so he simply let out a resigned nod. “I was hoping it wouldn’t be a factor, since wits is more of how I operate rather than...well, booksmarts.” Romon shrugged. “Might as well, it can hardly do any harm. The way I see it  I need all the help I can get...although I somewhat fail to see why we weren’t just given the answers by the gods themselves. They were right in front of us weren’t they? Surely at least one of them would know how these things work,isn’t time of the essence here?”


Romon freezing caused the dragonkin to tense. Her muscles slowly relaxed as the elf responded verbally, seeming to think rationally. Adruo let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. She jumped slightly at Romon’s question. A smile broke across her face. She at least knew the answer to that one. “Well, the weapons have to accept the wielder. Most of them can tell by just being held. Mind and Spirit seem to be a bit more picky. Animus and the last wielder created the puzzles so that Mind and Spirit would be satisfied with their new holder.” Adruo pulled out a piece from the library of facts in her memory.


Romon sighed. “Yeah, that sounds right from what I’ve heard… which isn’t much.” Romon picked up a tuft of grass, looking into it as he rubbed the blades of grass between his fingers before they fell, scattering away in the light breeze. “Part of me wishes I had more time to prepare...I’m not sure how I’ll fare on the test myself but hey, how hard can it be right?” Romon looked up to the sky as the last pieces of grass blew away. “Adruo, how do you think the other groups are faring right now? We spent a few days in Pagus, that had to have slowed us down, do you ever wonder how the others are faring? Some have no doubt made it...I can’t imagine they were much more slowed down then we were.” He chuckled. “But we’ll be at the library soon won’t we? So there’s not much to worry about in that regard. Speaking of, we should keep moving...the camp is packed up, you ready to go?”


Adruo pondered Romon’s estimate, but eventually shook her head. “I don’t think any of the others have got a weapon yet. When they do, the respective god will enter our realm again. You’ll notice when they do.” Adruo laughed a little at that. It was a little tidbit of information that few actually knew, but it should be an interesting experience for others when it happened. “I doubt they are very far from their destinations.”


The two traveled to the library at a speed that was far slower than they would have liked. Even so, they knew better than to overwork their still healing bodies. They managed to reach the Grand Library within two days. The massive, castle-like structure was visible a full day’s travel away. After forcing themselves on, they eventually reached it.


The inside was host to thousands of tomes and books and scrolls. The information held there was so powerful that you could almost smell it. Aduro was giddy with the potential to learn. She had difficulty remembering the task they were on and calming herself down.


After a few deep breaths, the dragonkin and elf duo headed towards what looked like the main information desk. The desk was a circle in the centre of the first floor and the same size as as an average sized room. It was abuzz with hushed sounds of work. Harpies, shapeshifters, and tamers’ birds darted up through the higher floors, collecting various items.


While this was all extremely fascinating to the white-haired female, she forced herself to focus. After all, the ever looming concern about the Demon Lord rising up and destroying everything was rather overpowering.


“Excuse me,” Adruo spoke with the same hushed tone that she noticed everybody else in the library kept. “Um, could I please speak to the Head Librarian? Almas, if I remember correctly.”


It didn’t seem like the secretary had heard her at all. Behind the unnecessarily tall desk, only the top of someone’s head could be seen, rummaging through files. But just as Adruo considered raising her voice, the face of a man emerged. He looked human and his roundish features made him look young, but the dark heavy bags spoke otherwise. The temperature seemed to drop when those icy blue eyes swept over Adruo, drinking in every detail of her appearance before settling on just staring her down. The silence between them stretched out. He seemed to be waiting for her to speak.   


“May I see Almas?” The dragonkin requested again. Her tail swished back and forth with nervousness. The man’s gaze was cold and calculating, causing Adruo’s non-armoured skin to resemble a freshly plucked goose. She darted her eyes to Romon, making sure he was still with her. Seeing the elf put her mind slightly more at ease.


Romon himself had a similarly cold gaze examine the strange man. His mind was calculating,  trying to figure out what made the man tick. This was a cold and calculating side to Romon, one Adruo had rarely seen before. As the eyes met Romon, he would return the hard stare, and would break only once the other man did.


“My compatriot speaks the truth. We request an audience with the head librarian. “


Romon’s tone had shifted, and much to Adruos chagrin, he had slipped back into his official and proper mannerisms.


The man raised an eyebrow at the elf’s tone, so different from the girl’s hushed one. But then, unexpectedly, he dropped his elbows on the desk, shut his eyes and rubbed his face. A long pained sigh was the only sound he made before composing himself, leaning back further into his chair and blinking slowly and deliberately at the two.


“And who, pray tell, requests an audience with our head librarian?” he questioned. His voice was deep and perhaps even soothing, the kind that would sound pleasing reading a book out loud, but his tone was laced with subtle mocking, dragging out the words as if speaking to a child.


Adruo looked between the two males who seemed to have a sudden distaste for the other. With that in mind, she decided that it might be best if she were to try handle the speaking for the most part. She gathered her courage and straightened her back.


“I am Adruo, and this is Romon. He was chosen by Animus to be the next wielder of Mind and Soul. I have also received a note that I was asked to give to Almas.” The dragonkin gave a small bow in greeting, using the skills she had learnt from many years in the elven royal court.


The man didn’t even blink at this piece of information. “Listen,” he started, joining his hands and leaning over the desk to give all of his undivided attention to Adruo. “You could be the offspring of our nation’s rulers or even the great Gods themselves, for all I care, and it still wouldn’t change a thing. Rules are implemented for a reason. If we didn’t have rules, the whole system would collapse and I,” he paused here to give a half-smile, “well, I would be out of a job now, wouldn’t I?”


“What makes you so certain you still have one, my dear Castor,” a voice, this time from a woman, interrupted.


The man named Castor jumped to his feet, nearly tripping over his chair in his haste to bow down to the old woman, hand over the Grand Library’s emblem sewn onto his jacket where his heart would certainly be hammering away. “Head Librarian Almas, I’m sorry, I-”


Almas raised a wrinkled hand to silence the man. She then turned to Adruo, expression somber as she spoke, “You mentioned a note addressed to my person.”


Adruo gazed at the woman for a few moments in awe before jumping into action. She fumbled around her pouch to attempt to find the parchment that Phoebe had given them before they all left Eden.


“Ah, yes. Phoebe gave it to me. I think she wanted to explain that she was chosen. What did she say…” Adruo muttered the last part to herself before finally locating the letter. As she handed it over, the dragonkin’s remarkable memory kicked in. “From Ghost.”


The woman’s eyes lit up at the name and as she read the note, a smile lifted the corner of her lips, softening her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came though. After nodding to both of them in a greeting, she approached the desk, her movements slow but sure. The secretary and her spoke for quite a while, and it was only when the man slipped something into Almas’ reaching hands with a sour look on his face, that the head librarian walked over to them.


She handed over two rings, both gold and with red gems, not that different from the one she wore on her own right hand.


“I’ve been expecting you both, of course. Though certainly not this soon,” she nodded at Adruo in approving manner.


“No point in idle chatter, we all know why we’re here. So, put on those rings and follow me. Any questions can be made as we walk.”


Without any further explanation, Almas began to move briskly across the entrance hall and towards one of the beautifully ornamented double doors that lined up the right wall, obviously expecting them to follow her without question.


Romon had been quiet, silently perceiving the whole situation. As the head librarian approached them. Try as he might however, he couldn’t quite get a read on Almas’ intentions. It… somewhat unsettled the elf, there weren’t many people he couldn’t read. It had been a trick he’d trained over the years… but was clear now, was far from perfect. The elf shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He couldn’t dwell on that… he had a mission to accomplish after all. He needed to defeat the demon king, and first he needed to obtain the blades. There were too many people counting on him to fail now. Whatever puzzles the blades would throw at him he’d take them down for sure. Taking confident steps behind the Librarian after putting the ring on his own hand. “May I ask where we’re going? Or rather, the specifics?” Romon knew they were moving towards the blades...but for exactly how they were going to get there, and what puzzles entailed...well, he’d need any information he could get.


“How many trials are there as well? That is...important info.”


Adruo excitedly donned the ring, knowing what it was most likely for. The library was aided by the Mage School of Mind. There were illusions everywhere and the rings were used to see past them, if her memory served her correctly. Having travelled with Romon for the past week had caused Adruo to get used to being the one who his questions were aimed at.


“The puzzles are in chambers underneath the library which were originally built as catacombs for the library’s founder. It-” She paused mid sentence, realizing that she was not the one who was being asked. She dropped her head, somewhat ashamed of her actions. “My apologies.”


“No, please, continue,” Almas reassured her, sending a smile and a goodnatured wink over her shoulder, seemingly ignoring Romon altogether. “Adruo, correct?” she asked, waiting for some sort of confirmation on the other’s part before proceeding in a more serious tone. “Don’t ever apologise for sharing your knowledge.”


As she said this, the old woman pushed through the massive double doors without so much as breaking a sweat and ushered them in. They found themselves in a spacious reading room filled with children of all ages and races. Though calm, the whole room felt alive and much warmer than the entrance hall, with cosier lights and decoration. While some of the older children read their books in silence, deeply absorbed in their own little worlds, most of them were gathered around librarians who were either speaking or reading to them, some of them pointing at the moving paintings on the ceiling as they spoke.


“You seem to know a lot about the history of this place,” Almas noted as she walked across the room, waving her hand and nodding at the librarians acknowledging her presence with a little bow. “Please, continue. As a historian, there is nothing that brings me quite as much joy as finding a young mind who shares my enthusiasm with the past. They’re quite the rarity these days. So don’t worry, I’ll fill in the blanks if necessary,” she says, turning to smile at Adruo once she stops in front of a painting of a very young Fraiku woman at the farthest corner of the room.


The dragonkin was so enthralled with the beauty of the architecture that she almost missed Almas speaking to her. “Oh, of course. I have to admit that my knowledge of the library itself is not that great. My grandmother always wished she could have seen it.” Her voice trailed off with happy nostalgia. She shook herself out of her personal memories. “The library was built by Al-lat, a woman who loved knowledge. After many difficulties, and help from her family, she managed to get this library started. Animus did not leave this great feat unnoticed. He rewarded her by sending his followers to aid her in running the library, which always has been growing.


“When Al-lat died, an elemental walker visited the library carrying the weapons of mind. After another whole long story, the trials of mind were transferred to the catacombs where Al-lat’s body rests.” Adruo finished, looking between the two she walked with, both for different reasons. Romon to see if he was still interested, and Almas to see if her knowledge was incorrect.


“We all owe much to the great Al-lat, may she rest in peace. I am no exception,” Almas said, sorrow tinging her voice as she gazed up at the painting of the woman in question. She brought her fingers to her lips before raising them to lightly touch the canvas. “Animus could not have chosen a better place for the weapons.”


The old woman then turned to smile at Adruo. “And I see that the great God of Mind himself could not have chosen a better candidate to yield them!” she exclaimed, laughing as she patted the dragon girl’s shoulders with perhaps a little more force than necessary. “It’s comforting to know the weapon will go to a sharp mind such as yourself.”


Before any of them could retort, the Head Librarian had stepped forward and disappeared into the painting, her words trailing behind her until they faded to nothing.


Adruo’s mouth opened and closed a few times with only a choked noise escaping through her throat. She gaped at the space that Almas previously occupied, not quite sure what to do. Silver eyes turned to Romon, pleading for assistance.


Romon was happy to oblige Adruo’s wordless cry for help. He had mostly stayed silent, he knew that Adruo was the smart one with regarding to history...he didn’t know much about the library at all. Yet the elf had his limits, and he was the chosen. “Actually, Ma'am, that wo-” Unfortunately, the woman vanished into the painting. What kind of place was this? How the hell did anyone memorize how to get around? Who even checked out the books of such a remote location? The place didn’t add up In Romon’s mind. Still, he gave a reassuring smile to Adruo. “We’ll get it squared up, but let us continue forth. We have a mission to complete.” Determination on his brow, Romon followed the Head Librarian through the painting.


The trio found themselves at the start of spiral staircase leading underground, no end in sight as the light from the couple of torches lining the walls was not enough to pierce the darkness below. Almas was waiting for them a few steps down.


“This is the path to the catacombs. Watch your step, please,” she warned before continuing her way down, expecting them to follow. As they descend, Almas would flick her wrist and the torches along the walls would light up.


“You know about the existence of the trials. If you don’t mind me asking, dear, where did you learn about them. Do you know what awaits you in these trials?” she questioned, casting a glance at Adruo over her shoulder.


Adruo took every step tentatively, knowing that her falling would end badly for all involved. With such an old structure… she really didn’t want to risk it. The dragonkin paused when Almas spoke to her as she pondered how to answer. She continued on, even more carefully than before, talons clacking against the stone stairs.


“My grandmother passed down the tales of old to me, as is tradition in my family. However, I am not the one to face the trails. I simply requested to join the Chosen on their search. Romon was chosen by Animus to wield Mind and Soul.” Adruo offered Romon a small smile, hoping he wasn’t too upset by her speaking about him while he was there.


The words had an immediate effect on Almas, who halted her descent and whipped around to face the other two. Above them the torches flickered and the shadows on the walls trembled. In the dim light of the staircase the old woman’s face was unreadable, but the silence that stretched on between them spoke volumes.


“Oh, I see. My apologies, I should not have assumed,” she eventually spoke, voice suddenly formal and detached. She tilted her head to Romon as a form of apology, though the movement was so subtle one could be excused from missing it entirely. Then she turned her back to the duo and resumed her descent, motioning for them to follow.


“It won’t be long now, we are nearly there. Don’t let the darkness fool you, we must learn to see through it. Knowledge is the light that pierces the darkness,” she said, grabbing a torch and handing it over to Romon. “A light we need to share. Don’t you agree?” she asked while motioning for him to lead them down the rest of the way, unspoken words behind her sweet smile.


“But of course.” Romon said with a bow of his head which was actually visible. “Knowledge is key to how we progress and how many of us live..myself included, I can’t begin to tell you how many times I would have fallen if not for information imparted by others, or how many nights I would have perished had many a folk not taught me how to survive. The world breathes knowledge, a light indeed.” Romon did his best to form a smile, but couldn’t help but pick up the sudden cold detachment from the head librarian. He was not quite sure what he did wrong- after all, he was simply acting as one would expect from an elf- so where had he gone wrong? No matter, as long as she still was willing to help them find the artifact. Romon had a feeling that it would take years to navigate these halls without the knowledge of the librarian.


“So if I may ask to prepare myself, what is the first task?”


Adruo, now being the last in the line going down the stairs, looked between the other two. She could see their passive aggression and it was worrying. The dragonkin wasn’t sure how to deal with such situations. Her eyes darted from elf to librarian as her brain attempted to come up with an idea to pacify the situation. Almas seemed to be pleased whenever someone showed their knowledge, so perhaps that would calm her.


“The first task is unknown. It is said that every time a mortal sees the puzzle, Animus changes it. However, some believe that he changes their memories instead. Since there are no recorded occurrences of anyone getting past the initial task, we don’t know if the rest of the trail is also changing.” Adruo answered. Her grandmother had taught her much, but Adruo had read plenty, filling out her reservoir of information.


Which reminded her. “Almas, would it be possible for me to borrow some texts for our journey? I am sure I only saw a fraction of what the library has to offer and am sure I could learn so much.” She couldn’t help but get honestly excited about the possibility to learn something new.


“A fraction indeed,” Almas mused out loud, a grin growing on her thin cracked lips. “It’s a pity that we’re so short on time, otherwise I would’ve loved to have given you both a tour of the library.” The old woman turned her head to cast a glance at Ardruo, eyes shining with a warm light.


“And of course you can, my love. If there is anything in this library that you feel will aid you in your quest, then please feel free to take it with you. I simply ask that you return them if and when possible. Not even the Chosen themselves are above returning books!” Her own words prompt a booming laugh that bounces off the walls.


“We’re here,” she says after a while, stopping at the end of the staircase. Snapping her fingers, a dozen of torches come to life, casting light and shadows upon the statues of the great women and men lining up the walls and the massive stone doors at the end of the corridor.


Overjoyed with the response, Adruo offered a gleaming smile. “Thank you Miss Almas. I shall take care of them and return them as soon as I am able.” As a storyteller, the dragonkin understood the importance of written work. It kept stories from being misremembered or told. She would most likely protect the writings more than she would her own life.


The young female looked up at the statues before them. Fierce depictions of the previous Chosen with their weapons. Their fierce battle continuing for eternity thanks to the stone they were cast in. Adruo noticed with sadness the appearance of Fahim. He was not in an action pose like the others. Instead, he stood, watching them, a smile that showed surprising amounts of pain. It was amazing how detailed the statues were.


Adruo bowed to Almas. “Thank you for leading us. We sincerely appreciate you aid.” With that said, the dragonkin looked to her elven partner. It was up to him what to do from here on.


Romon’s stance was relaxed, whatever puzzles he had to fight in this place, and whatever the challenge was he knew he’d be able to take it on. There were two many lives riding on him to fail now, a few logic puzzles and twisting words wouldn’t stop him from obtaining the weapons, not if he could help it. The stakes were too great for him to fail, and Romon was determined to come out of that room victorious or not at all. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, he gave Adruo a confident smile common to elvenkind. “Relax my friend, I’ve got this!” He started walking forward and paused after a few steps. “You have my thanks as well Almas, without your aid this would have been a failed endeavour from the start. I am truly grateful.” He then continued forward in a determined stride, gaining pace as he approached the door.


The warriors of the past gazed down upon him, and the few he knew seemed to stand out among the rest. The dragonkin bladesman caught his attention for but a moment, but he decided to redouble his focus, as he approached the door he noticed a plaque, and even in his struggles to read, he began to slowly make out its words.
 
The crease on Phoebe’s brow deepened at the boy’s exchange with his aunt, hands clenching into fists at her sides to keep this sudden flare of distaste in control. Her lips parted but then Kito nudged her and the fire went out, words dying before they could ever leave her mouth. She was left dazed and blinking at his encouraging smile, trying to gather her thoughts and remember why they were there. 


“It’s not…” she cleared her throat and wiped the sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her tunic before continuing in a firmer tone. “We appreciate the offer. But perhaps your father could lead us there instead, if he isn’t too busy, of course.”  


Anyone but you, she finished in her head, willing her face to remain neutral and cordial. It wasn’t anything about the boy personally, after all, he hadn’t done anything to offend either of them, but the thought of being responsible for someone else’s child just didn't sit well with her. No, the kid would stay in the village, were he was safe. Bored out of his mind, yes, which, believe her, was something she could relate to all too well, but safe regardless. 


The boy’s face fell, that small flicker that their conversation had brought to life in his eyes snuffed out and engulfed by black. He sighed and muttered some words that Phoebe had trouble deciphering through his thick accent before turning to presumedly get his father. Remorse slid down Phoebe's throat like bitter tea, prompting her to steer her eyes away from the others, crossing her arms and shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her gaze fell on some of the more brightly coloured fruit, an action she came to regret as immediately her stomach decided to announce it’s presence in the loudest way possible. 


“I suppose we’ll be buying some fruit as well,” she said after the awkward silence that followed, trying to grasp at the remains of her dignity even as heat crawled up her neck and spread across her freckles. One arm clutching her stomach, the other reaching for her bag and mall sack of coins, she turned pleading eyes to Kito, hoping he would save her from further embarrassment and take reign of the conversation. He seemed much better at dealing with friendly strangers than her. 


@Jayus
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Kito's own stomach growled and he blushed embarrassed. "Yeah that doesn't sound like a bad idea." He said and pointed at a few fruits. The woman hesitated, but the boy simply rolled his eyes and quickly took the centre of the bartering, handing them everything they requested. 


"Don' worry 'bout money."  The boy said and gently nudged the money back in Phoebe's hands and the fruit further into Kito's. His aunt looked mortified at the idea of anything free, but he reassured both of them if his dad found out they charged them he'd be upset, which even his aunt couldn't disagree with. To save anymore bickering the boy placed one of his own gold coins on the table and quickly motioned for them to follow after him. Kito quickly said his farewells to the woman and handed the fruit over to Phoebe. For someone so laidback he was quite fast on his feet.


"E-excuse me, but we don't even have your name?" Kito asked. The boy paused in his step and ran a hand through his hair. 


"Aw, shoot. My bad." The boy turned around with a smirk-like smile.

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"The name is Rhett. Most call me Cash though. Whatever you like most. Also in case you was wondering I'm a fire mage. Come from a long line of 'em. We one of the toughest out there." He said with a burst of pride. You could tell he was very happy with his title. Whether it was self-proclaimed or not was another story. They walked a bit longer and to Kito's happy surprise made genuine conversation with them. Sure he was rude in his abruptness and often said things that could've made his aunt glare at him a bit, but he meant well. And Kito was happy chatting to him, so much so, he even gestured with his hands every now and again. Eventually Rhett stopped by a cement house and a clay roof. Far different from the thatched houses and wooden huts. He laughed, and for the first time looked a little sheepish.


"Well ya know, best fire mages gon' have a lot of fire." He knocked on the door and a woman approached. She was a small plump lady with golden hair and gleaming amber eyes. 


"Cash! Who these lil darlin's?" She asked, throwing her neck back to make eye contact with them.


"These be the chosen folk, Ma." He said. Her eyes twinkled brighter and she looked between the two of them. 


"By golly well look at you two! Pardon my informality my name is Beulah! You can call me Ma if you really like to!." She looked at Rhett again. 


"They lookin' for somethin'? I'd be more than happy t' help!" She beamed and half ushered/ half shoved them inside. Rhett followed behind and informed they were looking for his dad. The small woman jumped with excitement and quickly ran around the corner and brought them back two glasses with helpings of lemon and mint in them. 


"Ya'll must be parched now you wait right 'ere while I go get Shelby!" She said and with a sparkling smile she dashed out the room. Rhett let out a sigh.


"She's one helluva firecracker I'll say that much." Kito took a small sip and his nose crinkled at the overpowering taste of lemon. He wasn't fond of much sour things, but he let out a small smile.


"She's very cute." He said. Rhett smiled. 


"Yeah she's an angel." 


Rhett sat in the chair opposite them and lit a cup he was holding, brewing himself a cup of coffee.


"So how goes the mission? Y'all good? Before y'all leave I can give you whatever supplies ye like. Just name 'em."


They exchanged questions idly for a few moments. A slight tension in the air dulled over by the comfortable life of the family. The door burst open and in came rushing Beulah and what must've been Shelby. He was ridiculously tall and his hands were blackened from whatever work he was doing in the garden. He seemed rightfully tired yet his hazel eyes were filled with unfiltered affection. Rhett looked up and gave him a quick wave hellow before continuing with his coffee.

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Beulah jumped eagerly in her step and gestured wildly to the guests. Her smile was so wide it revealed the slight gap tooth she had in the corner.


"These here be the travellers! A bunch of sweeties ain't they?" She said twisting her head to have a look at them again. Shelby laughed and held out a hand to Phoebe. 


"Pleasure to meet you." He said with a deep raspy voice. He turned to Kito and held out his hand again for Kito to take. Kito stared at the hand for a very long time before finally shaking it. Shelby placed one hand on his hip and scratched the back of his head.


"Well now. I'm honoured to help you important folks and I won't rush you. So you can sit here as long as you like. And if you wanna leave right now well that's mighty fine as well."


@SepiaInk
 
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When Chilali turned around and smiled at Sylvanus he felt confused, and slightly worried, it wasn't that he didn't trust her, it was just that he didn't trust if the the mount that kept them from the ground to stay calm whilst she did, whatever she wanted to do.


However the trust he had for her swiftly faded when he saw her let go of the reigns, not even her intended comforting words could keep him from panicking a littly bit as she leaned down towards the saddle bags. [COLOR= rgb(178, 34, 34)]"What the hell are you doing!?"[/COLOR] He asked worryingly and through sheer force managed to keep his arachnid limbs from bursting out from under the coat and start wriggling about from the stress induced by her plan, he made sure that instead of potentially scaring their mount they would tense up and squeeze around his waist to the point where he could feel the tips digging into his back, the holes made wouldn't be anything severe, but they still went deep enough that he'd start bleeding from the cuts.


Once Chilali sat back up again after scroungong through the saddle bags she seemed to be holding the pelt she wore on her head, [COLOR= rgb(178, 34, 34)]"What are you-" [/COLOR]He was about to ask her, but before he could finish his question he'd been pulled into her, the pelt dragging his chest into her back then tightening around both their waists. After she'd made sure it was properly tightened she tried to reassure him with a smile and some more comforting words,[COLOR= rgb(178, 34, 34)] "Yeah, now I'll most likely pull us both off instead" [/COLOR]He said under his breath, trying to make sure she didn't hear his negative comment about her idea.


With the new pressure from the pelt combined with him pressing his limbs the wounds would hopefully not bleed as much so that he'd soak his clothing in blood. He didn't want to bother Chilali or force her to land just because of some small scars that he would be able to easily fix himself once they arrived at their destination. 


@KiKi Kitsune
 
Chilali cringed at the spider's shout. She thought he might react badly, but she hoped the end result would calm him enough to make up for it. Eventually they both settled back down and the hameling continued with its previous speed. This high up, the air was cold. Or so she was told. The pelt should at least help keep Sylvanus from freezing. Would he freeze as well? He had told her that his arachnid limbs got cold easily, but he didn't seem to have much body mass to keep him warm. Chilali shook herself out of her thoughts. Sylvanus would probably be worried if he learnt about her mind wandering so much. 


Since she couldn't exactly feel her travelling partner grasping her waist, she checked behind her regularly to check on him. She also kept making sure that the makeshift harness was still secure. The last thing she wanted was Sylvanus slipping off and his fears coming to fruition. She knew from experience that it was more difficult to keep hold without stirrups. Since she had plenty of practice, it had never bothered her much when she had to. For Sylvanus who didn't even know what a hameling was called before today... The more she thought about it, the more guilty the ice mage felt. 


The sun touched the horizon, creating breathtaking views. Unfortunately, that meant it was getting dark quickly. Chilali scanned the ground, searching for a suitable place to settle for the night. Spotting a small copse on the side of a hill, the mage steered the hameling towards it. She leaned back so her face was closer to Sylvanus's, not wanting to take her eyes off the path. "We're going to land. Lean forward when I do and keep your hold strong." With her instructions given, Chilali returned to steering the creature. What usually would have been a close to vertical decent for her became a gentle spiral downwards out of courtesy for the spider. 


Once on solid earth, Chilali let out an audible sigh and stretched her arm out. "I haven't been on such a long ride in a fair while." She untied the strap that held Sylvanus in place as she spoke. "We should have covered about half a day's foot travel though. At least you won't need to-" Her usually pristine white frost lion pelt was speckled with crimson. She brought it closer to her face, confused as to what it was. Running her fingers over it showed that it was still wet. "Blood?" Her head snapped up to her companion. "Sylvanus, are you bleeding?" It couldn't be her blood since she wasn't in contact with the pelt. Without waiting to hear the spider's response, or caring what it may be, she grabbed his shoulders and looked him over. She patted his chest but saw no blood on her hands. She quickly did the same with his back, forgetting about his hidden arachnid limbs for a moment. 


The mage stepped back, arms folded over her chest. Her face showed no pity or anger. Rather, she was pondering. After a moment, she shook her head with a sigh. "Alright, jacket off. Let's get those cuts tended to." She began unpacking their medical supplies from the saddle bags, picking out a few items from the pile that she would want to use. Once she had collected what she needed, she sat down, gesturing for the spider to join her. "I'm not setting up camp until you're patched up." 


@minismurf
 
Phoebe raised the hand Shelby had shaken to her face, pretending to scratch an itch above her lips so she could inhale the unidentified scent still clinging to her fingers. One whiff and it was like she was there in that unseen garden, burying her nose in rich soil and coming up with two handfuls of dirt and compost. Pressing her fingers closer, she could see the tropical plants and vegetables sprouting from the earth, their smell mixed with hot clay tiles as they basked in the heat of a harsh sun. 


It was only when silence stretched out thin around her, tugging at the corners of her mind, that the shapeshifter realised she had her eyes closed and nose practically rubbing the palm of her hand. Snapping her eyes open, she flinched and whisked her hand away from sight, pressed tightly against the small of her back. As expected, people seemed to be looking at her and waiting for an answer of some kind. 


Heat spread across her freckles but she held back the impulse to rub it away. Coughing into her scent-free hand, she took a step back to get back some needed space between her and the rest of family and crossed her arms before addressing the older man. 


“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Shelby.” Her unwillingness to meet the human’s gaze pulled her own eyes downwards. They landed on her arms, which she promptly uncrossed with a silent exhale. Annoyed at her weak posture, she corrected her slouch and stood up tall and straight, hands locked behind her back in a gesture that briefly reminded her of someone. 


“Unfortunately we haven’t much time to spare, so, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience, we would prefer to leave as soon as possible,” she insisted, hoping her reply wasn’t too out of context after whatever the man had said. 


Then her eyes caught Kito’s, glossy red pools standing out even amidst the warm colours of the house and its occupants, and the confidence she’d been trying to build up faltered a bit. The young harpy had seemed at ease among these fire mages, meeting them half-way in their cheerfulness and warmth, which was a long cry from the timid and fearful harpy she’d first met. It surprised her, made her wonder if this was what Kito really was like, what he wanted to be. All it took was the right kind of person. 


That idea didn’t sit well for some reason and her thoughts turned to harpy’s other half. Certainly Fekitoa would feel different, uncomfortable or even annoyed at the attention of these people, of any unnecessary mingling. Or perhaps Kito’s happiness would be reason enough to tolerate what was honestly not even supposed to be that much of a sacrifice or compromise to begin with. She was the odd one out, making a fuss about nothing. 


Since when did Fekitoa’s opinion start mattering to her anyway? And why was she wasting thoughts on this non-problem in the first place? They had an important mission and that should be the one and only reason behind their actions. 


“But thank you for your hospitality. We really do appreciate it,” Phoebe eventually added, bowing to the mother and son so they wouldn’t witness her troubled face behind the curtain of inky hair. 







@Jayus
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Beulah laughed heartily. "Oh darlin' you don' have ta bow ta us like we some noble sort! We're happy to help!" Beulah's eyes widened in surprise and with another jump she ran out the room. 


"I'll make some snacks for the trip!" 


Rhett shook his head. "Ma it ain't that far!" He yelled, but she was already in the other room. Cutlery and plates clinking together as she started her task. Shelby laughed to himself and smiled warmly to his guests. 


"I'll just get my hands cleaned up and I'll be right back. Rhett go help your ma in the kitchen. And stop her from making a three course meal." 


Rhett pushed himself off the chair, stretching his limbs with a small pop in his joints. "Yes sir, dad sir." He walked slowly to the kitchen and already there were a loud exchange of sentences. Mostly from Rhett asking how could a whole chicken possibly count as a snack for the road. Kito laughed softly. This was nice. Just a really loud family. Quirky yes, but nice. He looked over to Phoebe and noticed her distressed face. Immediately he felt worried.


"Phoebe is everything okay?"


He waited for her response, if she gave one at all, when finally Rhett came into the room, a defeated look on his face and a basket in his hand. Beulah hopped in shortly after with a toothy grin on her own face. 


"On the brightside you have enough food for about two days. Four if you skip a meal."


"You best not skip a meal!" Beulah ordered glaring at them with a fierce glint in her eye daring them to defy her. Kito gulped. 


"W-w-we w-won't." He spat out. Beulah smiled triumphantly. Shelby was back with clean hands and a dirtier jacket. He looked at the basket and looked over to Rhett who held up his hands in mock defense. 


"Look I stopped her from making a roast." He said defending himself. Shelby sighed and took the basket from him. 


"Alright you folks ready to go?" He asked. Kito nodded. Shelby stared at them questioningly and Kito realized he was still sitting. Kito jumped up and nodded again. Beulah laughed. 


"Aw how sweet! You don't want to leave just yet don't you dear? Well you both come back anytime!" Running up to them the small woman grabbed both of them in a tight group hug. Kito went quiet, too shocked to know what the right response to a hug was from someone that wasn't his own mom. 


Eventually they managed to get themselves out the hug and on the road. Shelby walking ahead and the two trailing behind. It was only after they left the village and were heading into the forest that Kito spoke.


"U-um S-shelby. Why are you wearing a jacket? D-don't fire mages have a high body temperature."


"Oh." Shelby laughed. "Nah I skipped a generation. Only one in my family. I'm just a plain ol' human." He turned around and smiled at them, no hurt feelings hidden behind his genuine smile.


"We get called 'Flickered'. It's just when we can't access our ability to make fire. Beulah doesn't mind though. And it didn't affect Rhett at all." 


"O-oh." Kito said, eyes going wide and he went quiet again. Sensing the silence Shelby continued.


"Beulah was really excited to have guests over. We never really do. Fire mages in a forest is as odd as an Elf and Dragonkin getting along." He chuckled. "So, you two got any questions before we get there? Doesn't have to be about the forest. I can see you two are a bit curious."


@SepiaInk
 


Phoebe perked up at the human’s words, not wasting any time and immediately raising her hand to catch his attention. “I have a question. Why would fire mages decide to live in a place like this? What exactly does your family do here?” she asked, quickening her pace so she could walk alongside the tall man, almost tripping on a tangle of roots in her haste.


Shelby blinked a couple of times at her sudden burst of energy, but soon followed that with a booming laughter deep enough to disperse a small flock of brightly coloured birds above them.


“Guess I should’ve excepted that question. We get that one a lot from visitors. Not that I can blame them,” he confessed after his laughter died out, turning his head to shoot a near complicit grin at Kito. “I know it sounds odd, but fire mages are actually responsible for maintaining the growth of certain parts of the forest, as well as keeping fires in check. You see, there are trees and plants that need fire to-"


“Reproduce!” Phoebe finished for the human, boots kicking up a few fallen leaves as she came to a full stop. A frustrated groan slipped past her lips as her hand struck her forehead with a loud smack, leaving a nice rosy handprint on her clammy skin. “Of course, how could I forget.”


Even as she admonished herself, excitement brewed behind her brown eyes. “I’m a botanist!” she exclaimed with a proud smile, gesturing widely to the man. “No, wait, I’m sorry, that’s a lie. I’m not. At least, not yet. Need official papers for that and those aren’t just simply given away to shapeshifters like that,” she confessed, snapping her fingers for emphasis.


Once again, she was rambling. She tried to stop, she really did, but it was like reading a book with a great hook, once you started it was nearly impossible to stop.


“Anyway, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind telling us a bit more about those plants? You obviously share the same interest in the flora of this forest, even if you aren’t a fire mage. I can smell it on you."


A short beat passed, filled with nothing but the sound of insects buzzing around and birds chirping, before Phoebe’s whole face turned into the surface of the sun.


“I mean, I-I-“ the former librarian stammered, nothing but gibberish coming out of her mouth for a almost a full minute before she decided to simply give up on forming any cohesive sound for the moment. Hands came up to cover the red hue spreading like a virus across her face, but there was nothing to hide the glowing white creeping up from the ends of her hair.


“Please forget I said anything,” she managed to choke out after a few deep breaths, having just dawned on her that, on top of her inappropriate comment, she had just told this man she had just met that she was a shapeshifter without even realising it. “Plants aren’t really that important. So, Kito, I’m sure you have several questions for Mr. Shelby regarding your weapon.” She was back to her formal tone, but there was a desperate plea in her eyes when she turned them to the young harpy.

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@Jayus
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As Sylvanus looked out over the surroundings that they flew over, he couldn't help but wonder over the way that the setting sun twisted the colour and perception of everything underneath them, the forest looked as to be ablaze, the mountains looked like massive beasts reaching up to grab the sun and drag it down between them. He could feel that his spider senses were starting to get used to the height, and his limbs were now tensing less for the anxiety induced, more so rather to keep the self induced wounds from oozing too much blood that he would pass out.


He was starting to feel a bit light headed when Chilali told him that they were going to land and he tried to hold onto her as he felt his head spinning as they descended.


As they landed it didn't take Chilali long to notice that he was bleeding, "Off with your shirt, we're not setting up camp before you're patched up" Sylvanus sighed but obeyed, he knew that there wasn't any point in arguing with Chilali when it came to his injuries so all he could do was to sigh and strip. "It's not that bad" He said as Chilali examined him, even though he knew it was a lie as he strained to pull out his sharp limbs out of his sides and felt the stiffness from not just the single position he'd held them in, but also the hardened blood covering them made them hard to move as well. "Just clean me up and we can get on with finding some form of shelter"


@KiKi Kitsune 
 
Chilali​

Chilali sat behind him with the medical supplies next to her. As gently as she could, she tried to help him dislodge his limbs without causing further damage to the cuts. At his words she raised a brow. "You could say please." The mage muttered under her breath. A few more inaudible grumblings escaped her as she worked on moving spider legs so she could actually reach the injuries without getting impaled.

She worked quietly and methodically. Wiping the blood from the wounds, disinfecting, then patching up. She was almost in a trance-like state, not really thinking about what he was doing and just doing it. The mage continued by cleaning the blood caked onto Sylvanus's arachnid limbs. Her grip was gentle but firm, not letting the limbs flail around, but trying not to cause pain. Once done with that, she sat back and rolled her shoulders, popping the joints. "If you go and injure yourself again, speak up sooner rather than later. It would save a lot of time." She gave him half a smile, forgetting that it was neigh impossible to see under her mask.

Once all the medical supplies had been packed away, Chilali went about getting out their sleeping rolls. "Do you want to make the fire? I'll get the rations out." She called over her shoulder while rummaging around a saddle bag. She ended up gathering far more than food. All the material she had gotten from the tailor were piled high in her arms. She dropped to the ground with no intention of being graceful about it, sitting cross-legged.

"I think it will be about a day, maybe a day and a half of flying to get to the Blue Isles. Once there, we'll probably need to ask around for more accurate directions." As she spoke, she spread the material out on the thankfully flt ground. With proficiency that surprised most, she measured and marked out the material. Once the fire was at a decent temperature, she placed some food over it to be warmed, easily multitasking. "Sit nearby. I'll need to make sure these fit before I sew them. I don't really have material to waste."

minismurf minismurf
 
Phoebe's face flushed with embarrassment and every thought that had been spilling out of her in a mad rush of excitement and emotion was shut tight behind her sealed lips, threatening to only spill the briefest of apologies for taking up Shelby's time. She was too busy seemingly scolding herself to notice the bemused twinkle in Shelby's eyes and the shocked gawking Kito couldn't possibly keep hidden. His mouth open slightly, the words knotting on his tongue. His only thought was why couldn't she speak with that much life, that much openness? They were partners weren't they? Shelby was only a guide. Kito noticed her say something and her eyes locked with his. Wait, did she say something? Why was she looking as distressed as he felt? Could she read his mind? Was that a thing shapeshifters had as well?

Shelby let out a laugh unbeknownst to the two's internal conflict. Kito snapped to attention at the sound of the man's warm, rich laughter.

"You've got a bit of firecracker in you as well don't you, Miss Phoebe?" Shelby said, a twinkle in his gold ochre eyes. "And I'm sure Kito over here has a few fair questions, but I don' mind answering yours first. Always nice to meet another 'not so botanist' botanist." He cleared his throat and looked around the forest. Analyzing every nook and cranny, his eyes narrowed into a squint or widened into dinner plates. He made a hum with each change in expression, Kito looked around at what he was staring at in an attempt to understand what Shelby understood, but it only made him more anxious and cling closer to the little path there was, too scared to touch the edge in case it was poisonous.

"Well the thing about this forest and why we moved here is it feels more alive than most forests."

Kito looked at Phoebe to see if she agreed with him, but unable to truly read her expression looked back at Shelby.

"A-alive?"

"Well yes alive." Shelby nodded to himself, happy with his description.

"You see this being the chosen place to store Forest Edge, there's a lot of belief that Semino left a piece of his essence in the forest to protect it. His tie to this world is the strongest here or so legend goes. The forest has many nicknames. The two I know of are 'Semino's Veins' and 'Semino's pulse'. Now I dunno about that anatomical nonsense, but what I do know is the deeper you go the rarer and more deadly the plants are." He paused in his walk suddenly and Kito jumped in his step, but swallowed his nerve at the last second. A small yip instead of a loud screech escaping his throat.

"Sorry if I scared you there, Kito, but if you look ahead, those silvery petaled leaves? Argentum Kisses. Don't touch them or even brush passed them. I'd find another path, but truth is they're everywhere. Quite funny huh, Miss Phoebe? One of the rarest petals renowned for their beauty and value in royalty blooms in Semino's forest like they were nothing more than dandelions."

As the trio walked further more plants appeared. Each more threatening than the last. Kalopsia; a bright green succulent that was weak in small doses, but is incurably addictive and only gets more intoxicating. Hiraeth; a cactus with red thorns that left the victim trapped in their most powerful memory for days on end. Whether it be good or bad was hard to tell. Effervescense, an aloe which left large blisters on the spots its gel-like substance comes in contact with. Internally, Fekitoa made a note of each and every one, seeing them as quite useful in a fight, but he could tell Shelby wouldn't appreciate it too much if they went and stored what they weren't even allowed to touch. Kito, on the other hand, was near the brink of a panic attack as everything besides the grass under their feet became deadly.

"Sorry to interrupt," Kito erupted in a moment of heightened fear. "B-b-but do you know a-anything o-of F-forest Edge?"

Shelby looked a little taken aback, his mind still focused on his explanation of the Waldeinsamkeit Tree, but took the question in stride.

"Well I know that it heals. Not much, but enough if you use it right." His eyebrows creased in thought and his eyelashes fluttering in an intense motion to dig up what ever memories he could.

"I think it works best if you're emotionally stable. Or emotionally unstable, But I don't see why Semino would have a healing weapon that works best when you're unstable. So I'll have to say stable." He said and flashed a bright smile. Kito nodded thankful for the distraction.

"Speaking of which we're almost there. Funny enough in the last couple metres there's mainly medicinal plants. See those Lune blossoms? Those baby blue ones, Kito? We follow them."

"O-oh I know healing plants. Fekitoa, w-w-which is me o-of course, studied quite a few books about them." He said scratching the back of his head in what one could mistake for modesty, but was really guilt at almost giving away their secret.

Shelby blinked. "Well golly I didn't know you were a 'not so botanist' botanist Kito! Look at us we're basically a lil group. I'd love to hear more, but we're here."

Kito and Phoebe stopped in their tracks at the edge of what very well looked like the opening of a mountain, but was simply a rather old and broken Doric Temple that had taken a life of its own. It looked to be built years ago for what must be assumed to be Semino. Many of the archways had broken down and thick green mosses and vines had grown over it leaving the entrance dark and foreboding. Light spilled in further down the Temple and the sound of water droplets echoed occasionally. Besides that, sound seemed to cease to exist once inside and silence deafened the ears and brought to light Kito's erratic heartbeat.The whole thing was dark and cold and eerie and finally the weight of what Kito was, is, smacked him in the stomach harder than any truth or injury possibly ever could. His breath hitched for a moment and Shelby heard the raspy choke.

Shelby looked over him with a paternal concern, but understood there wasn't much he could do. He gave Kito's shoulder a good-natured squeeze, as if the tension could seep out of him with a strong enough grip.

"I know it looks terrifying, but remember this was built for Semino. It isn't as bad as it seems." Kito gave a weak smile and a weaker nod, but Shelby was happy with the token of faux bravery. It was a step towards true courage and he could feel Kito would reach it in no time. Shelby bid his farewells to Kito and promised he'd wait near where the poisonous plants began to guide them back. Turning to Phoebe he once more gave his goodbyes, but shot her a look to go look after him.

A few minutes after Shelby had left Kito fell to the floor and sat staring at the temple's mouth. His breathing hard and slow, he could hear Fekitoa asking to come out to handle the task, but Kito wanted to see if he could do this. If he could be as brave as Fekitoa, but at this moment in time he needed a good five minutes to find that courage again. He looked over to Phoebe.

"H-how you feeling? A-are you okay?"

SepiaInk SepiaInk
 
Another far too long Romon & Adruo Collab​


Neatly centered on the aging metal in flowing script were numbers followed by a single sentence.

1
11
21
1211​

Knowledge, intelligence, wits and creativity form Mind and Soul​

Adruo looked at the door as Romon read the plaque. There were two buttons of sorts - slight indents on the stone - one on each half of the door. They were simply labeled “1” and “2”. Above the door were small gargoyle styled statues in the shape of light bugs. What would usually give off light from the normally tiny insects was shown by opaque egg shaped glass baubles. Six little light bug statues sat above the door, a soft, barely audible hum seeming to emanating from them.

Romon gazed at the plaque with a relaxed glare. Whatever this puzzle was, Romon meant to solve it quickly. THe elf did fairly well with number puzzles in the past, unlike the alphabet, he only had to learn to read 9 characters and they were never pronounced differently over some form of different rules. He still had an ace up his sleeve but he was glad he wasn’t going to have to pull that card yet.

It took him a few minutes, but it reminded him of a similar puzzle his parents had back home. There wasn’t enough options for it to be that but… Romon did some calculations in his head, muttering under his breath. Patterns were constant among both puzzles...maybe the answer was something along the same lines. He inputted the code he was thinking. Pressing down on one three times, two twice, and finishing it with a one. He took a step back, hoping his sequence was correct.

With each press of a button, the orbs on the light bug statues glowed various colours. Each seeming to represent the gods and their respective schools of magic. Once each had lit up and the last number had been inputted, they all flashed pink - the colour for Animus.

The giant stone doors seemed to have no intention of moving. Adruo looked to Romon with a worried look.
“I don't think-” her comment was cut short by the sound of loud clunks as the doors slowly opened up.

The dragonkin looked between Romon and the now revealed space. It had yet to be fully lit, but chandeliers far above their heads came to life one by one. The room was huge, the candles not able to penetrate the darkness clinging to the walls.

In the center stood a statue that the shadows dared not touch. Twisted gratefully was the likeness of Animus himself, life sized. He curled around a pedestal with a large, transparent orb in his claws. The pedestal had another plaque, far longer than the previous one.

The room around them, despite the lack of light, was clearly well ornamented. Tapestries hung on the walls. Despite having to have been there for at least a century, they seemed untouched by time. Banners and emblems for families that used to hold a fair bit of power before the first invasion also adorned the room generously.

The elf approached the plaque with less of the seemingly foolish confidence that he had displayed at the start of the trials, in truth he was incredibly nervous, but he was going to do his best to prove things to the others. Not only did he have to deal with the pressure of his people back home, but he found himself wanting to prove himself for Adruo’s sake. The dragonkin he had not known for long, but he found himself wanting to prove he was the hero she believed him to be. Romon clenched his fists and strode forward, no longer with confidence but rather with fervent determination. He’d take this plaque on...and solve it, and the next, and whatever was needed next. Romon would prove his worth, get the blades, and save the world.

But first, he had to actually solve the puzzle.

In the same flowing text as the previous plaque, a poem was neatly nestled.

Name now one man.
He lived as a devil, eh?
Madame, not one man is selfless; I name not one Madam.
Draw, O coward!
Draw -- aye, no melody -- dole-money award.
No word, no bond, row on.
Ten animals I slam in a net.
To nets, ah, no, son, haste not.
"Reviled did I live," said I, "as evil I did deliver."
Revered now I live on. O did I do no evil, I wonder ever?
Red? Rum, eh? 'Twas I saw the murder.
Red root put up to order.
Stresed was I ere I saw deserts.
Snug & raw was I ere I saw war & guns.
Live was I ere I saw Evil.
Live not on evil deed, live not on evil.
Doom an evil deed, liven a mood.
Live on, Time; emit no evil.
Flee to me, remote elf.
Evil is a name of a foeman, as I live.
So remain a mere man. I am Eros.​

Adruo peered over Romon’s shoulder, curious to see what the next puzzle would entail. Her eyes widened in surprise at one word that stood out to her.
“Eros? That’s one of the old gods…”

Romon spent a couple minutes analyzing the puzzle, trying to figure out what each word meant.and how it played into the greater scheme of things. He’d always figured he was pretty good at puzzles, but one made by the gods? Romon knew it was going to be difficult...after a few more moments Romon decided if after this he had to deal with any more puzzles he would actually explode. This library had enough for a lifetime. It wasn’t that the elf wasn’t making progress, he’d manage to figure out that the riddle was the same forwards and backwards, line for line...and when the mysterious orb in the room was looked through it seemed to reverse whatever you were looking at, but what to do with that? It was puzzling indeed. The puzzle didn’t make any sense either, the words felt like gibberish and try as he might Romon couldn’t figure out how it applied to the situation. Why did it mention eros...was something abotu the old gods key to the situation? It would be a weird choice from a god based puzzle, but Romon couldn’t afford to give up any chances.

Frowning he looked again through the orb at the puzzle. It was the same letters in the same order sure, but did that mean anything? He felt like he’d found an important step in solving the puzzle without actually understanding the puzzle with which to be solved. It was an odd feeling, and Romon wasn’t too sure that he liked it. As the elf stared in silence at the puzzle, brain ticking away and trying to reveal it’s secrets, he slowly developed a theory...if the puzzle was backwards compatible, maybe the orb meant he had to find something else in the room that was as well?

Instead of instantly going to the right object, Romon used trial and error to figure out which item he had to look at through the orb. It might not have been the fastest method, or the most impressive, but Romon was nothing if not diligent, especially when the world was relying on him to get the weapons and stop the demon king. He tried the house crests, the statue, and even the floor before finally checking out the tapestry. A slow process yes, but Romon knew that covering his bases and respecting the puzzles were going to be key here.

The tapestry was the same as most things when looked at with the orb as a lens. Reversed image. A telling of the Demon Lord being sealed in the core by the first Chosen. The gods sat above on clouds, watching the battle and offering their power. It was easily missable at first glance, but the Core was a point of interest. It was the only illustration on the tapestry that did not change under the gaze of the crystal.

“Curious…” Romon muttered under his breath. He took a few moments to scan the tapestry before he even came close to a solution. It was less he knew something was there and more a fact of if there wasn’t a solution he was shit out of ideas. The elf scanned the tapestry for a few minutes, noting the changes, before slowly realizing its emphasis on the core. His eyes scanned the room for a moment before coming back to it. It was the only thing that didn’t change. Did that make it the key? That’d be a bit of a poetic answer given the situation of the world...somewhat unsure, but hoping he was right, Romon pressed his hand to the core.

After feeling around, Romon touched something far too cold to be material. A key. Dark in colour as to not be noticeable without knowing where to look. It was only attached by a few thin threads. It was as simple as that. After pulling it off, they had the way into the next room.

Or so they thought.

At the next set of doors, a third trial greeted them. On the doors were a total of nine different key holes, each numbered 1 through 9. A statue stood on either side of the door. They wore mages robes and held a staff. Their plaques were different.

On the right: I am the odd one out.
And on the left: Yet I am not.​

Above the door sat 3 light bugs like the ones in the first room. They had the same orbs although these were all dark red, almost black in colour.

“How many puzzles is this place going to have? I’m still confused over the last one.” Adruo commented. Romon had been quiet during the whole process, so she had no idea how he had figured it out. She didn’t want to break his concentration, so hadn’t asked.


“I am...unsure.” Romon admitted. “They’re getting trickier it seems, the last one was more trial and error than me being sure, I’ll admit that. We can’t stop though...not anytime soon at least.”

Adruo hid a snicker behind her hand. The entire time, Romon had seemed so confident, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. She wouldn’t have guessed that he was almost as clueless as her.

Romon rose a brow and glanced back at his companion. For a brief second, Adruo saw the bemused smile of the Romon she had come to know on the road, the happy one tasked with a challenge that he knew he was going to overcome. As he moved his eyes to the puzzle however, his demeanor shifted back to the cold elf he presented himself to the world as. He silently moved back to the puzzle, electing not to comment on Adruo’s snicker. The thing was eating at him, and odd one out, that actually wasn’t? Well...Romon’s mind rolled on, the numbers were probably important, and odd and even was a concept that even he could figure out after he remembered his classes back home...the few he paid attention too anyway. Maybe…

Romon inserted the key down into the number 5 with a sure motion, the good news was there was an almost instantaneous reaction, the bad news was that it clearly wasn't the right answer. The sound of cogs and machinery moving would have been all the group could hear was it not for the blaring buzzing sound and the scream of the puzzle telling Romon he had messed up royally as one of the light bugs lit up above the door. “Well…” Romon commented. “Didn’t like that much did it?” he sighed and took a step back, trying to figure out what made the numbers different from each other.

None of them were crazy big, and even he could do math with them if he needed to and he hadn’t had much of an education. At the same time, Romon didn’t think it was math based...He softly started speaking the words out loud from one up to nine, stopping only when he reached seven. Se-ven, two parts...that was important in the realm of writing wasn’t it? To boot, seven was an odd number which helped boost his confidence. Romon just hoped this would work, the last thing he wanted was to have to blow another mark before they even reached the demon king. He’d need everything at his disposal if he could help it. Doing his best to conceal his nervously shaking hands, Romon inserted the key into the seventh lock.

Gods he hoped this would work.

He was greeted with a far softer, more well oiled sound of cogs turning. The large doors eased open with ease.

“Romon, well done!” Adruo cheered. She had honestly been rather concerned when he got the first one wrong. She had no idea what would have happened if they got it wrong. As the two walked into the next room Adruo couldn’t help the surprise from showing on her face.

Four statues stood equal distance from each other. They were of people she didn’t recognise but they all appeared in very powerful stances. The square bases they stood on each had four unique gems embedded in it.

What surprised and worried Adruo the most was the lack of an exit. There was no door or stairs to allow them to continue. There was only a large stone slab with four small chutes on either side of it. The slab held a lot of writing.

Sir Gade rode toward a castle atop a zebra at a steady gallop, a long way from home. He arrived at the gate and the keeper knelt in shame. “Thy steed must be tired.” Sir Gade replied, “I am on direct orders from the King. Let me through.” A cougar, nettled by the noise, emerged from a shrub. “You must save me!” cried the gate man. Sir Gade, eyes filled with anger, gazed toward the heavens. An item fell from his cloak as drove his sword into the cougar’s spine. “Let me pass!” cried Sir Gade. The gate keeper, stunned from his saga, tentatively opened the gate, then retrieved the fallen item.

Sir Gade has now dropped eight gems and must retrieve them.​

Adruo read over the passage a few times, confused look on her face. “I would think we need to take the gems off the statues and drop them down the chutes.” She looked to Romon. “I don’t have the faintest clue as to which ones though.”

For a short time, the elf was silent, seemingly analyzing the riddle as he had in the previous room to try and decipher its cryptic messages, but when he made noise, it wasn’t a solution. Romon chuckled sardonically, staring otherwise silently at the riddle they had to deal with. “Sounds simple enough doesn’t it? But fat lot of good I am.” He motioned to the riddle in front of them. “I can barely make out half the words...Damn it!” Romon punched the wall slightly, gritting his teeth as his fist made contact with hard stone, scraping the edge of his fist. “What kind of chosen am I...the god of knowledge himself decided on an elf that can’t even read, what kind of bittersweet irony is that?” Romon’s shoulders slumped, and Adruo could see for a few seconds just the kind of weight that Romon was holding onto himself. “What use am I if I can’t even solve a puzzle!?”

Adruo frowned at the elf’s outburst. She wrung her hands together, unsure of what to do. Eventually, she steeled herself by taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. The dragonkin tentatively placed a hand on her companion’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Romon. You aren’t on any time limit, so you don’t need to rush.” She offered a soft smile. “Just as the plaque in the entrance said, there different aspects being tested. We can’t be good at everything. Reading may not be your strong point, but you are a quick thinker in battle and adapt to any situation. Not to mention, deadly with a blade in hand.”

She stepped back, fearing she had overstepped her boundaries. “My apologies. You probably already knew all that.” She laughed nervously, scratching the scales on her arms.

Instead of another outburst, Romon turned around with a soft look on his face. “Thank you Adruo...your words mean much.” He sighed. “I’m not nearly as good as you give me credit for, the runes give me more power than I’d like to admit. But...it means a lot, coming from you. Your skilled with word play and sword play. I stand by what I said a couple days ago.” He motioned to the puzzle. “You deserve to be the chosen one, more so than me at the least.” Romon took a step back from the puzzle, trying to keep himself calm, Adruo was right in that there wasn’t a timelimit, so there was nothing to really worry about. He would solve this...he just needed to think it through. But he couldn’t read…

“Adruo, this is...embarrassing of me to ask, and if you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll never make you my special family dish, and that would be a fate worse than death.” He chuckled to show he was joking. “Can you...help me with this, read out the words, and walk me through it? Please?” Taking a step to do something a little bit more formal, Romon knelt down before her, as if requesting aid from nobility. “I beg of thee, my noble friend.”

Adruo was about to make a comment on the horrors of keeping food from her when the elf kneeled. “Romon, please stand.” She even went as far as to pull the man up herself. “What in Aurora are you thinking?” She chuckled slightly, shaking her head. “You could just ask and I’d be happy to help. No begging needed.” Her face dropped to a comical soberness. “Please no begging.”

Even after all his antics, Adruo was elated to be able to actually help. She read over the passage quickly. With a clearing of her throat, she began to read aloud to Romon, using a talon to show where she was in the writing. Her voice held a different tone, one used for storytelling. Once finished reading aloud, she turned to Romon. “Were there any words you are unfamiliar with?” She knew some of the things mentioned were merely in history. Zebras, for example, were seen in the deserts of Fraiku long ago but went extinct at some point.

“Well I’ll admit I have no idea what a zebra is.” Romon statedly bluntly. “As well as...nett-led? Whatever that one is.” The elf sighed frustrated. “When this is over and done, you need to teach me how to read in full, this piecemeal stuff is getting on my nerves.” after the elf was finished complaining, he pointed out a few more words he didn’t understand, such as Saga or emerged. It wasn’t that Romon didn't know these words, but he couldn’t place what they were with how they were spelled, so it was usually just a matter of explaining to him and he managed to get the just of what it meant.


“Okay, so words aside…” Romon’s voice trailed off. “I wonder if that item he dropped is a clue for us, if we can work out what it was, it might be a stepping stone to work off of.” Romon looked over to Adruo to confirm his theory, or at least that she was on board. As far as the elf was concerned, she was in on the riddle with him, and he intended to rely on her heavily. “Maybe it’s a type of stone that was from around where this knight guy got his mount? I don’t know much about zebras from the story, but if they were common they’d be seen around today correct? So...if any of these gems are from the same place as zebras, that’d be good to know. The legends have any answers for us?"

Adruo answered each of his queries about the words. “Zebras were a type of horse. Small and covered in black and white stripes. Nettled, in this case, would mean annoyed or irritated.” She chuckled slightly at the elf’s irritation. “I’d be more than happy to. It is one thing I am good at. You already seem to know the basics, so the rest is mostly just practice.”

Adruo scratched her chin with a claw in thought. “I didn’t notice anything lying around, and the passage specifically says he dropped gems. If a different item was dropped, it was retrieved.” As she spoke, she pointed to those words. “Oh, there aren’t any zebras anymore. They died out a while ago. Before the Demon Lord, actually. Horses were found to be far more efficient when in battle.”

“Right...well, that doesn’t help much.” Romon glanced back towards the puzzle. “The last few followed patterns somehow, maybe this one is similar? The words...do they mean anything that you can figure out?" He was annoyed at being stumped on this puzzle, but at the same time,he was well on his way to being relieved for Adruo’s assistance. “Adruo, where did you learn all these stories? I won’t lie and say I’m not impressed. I know you were taught...but how do you remember everything so easily? I can barely read, let you manage to hold legacies in your head...it’s kind of amazing if you think about it.”

At his question of seeing any other meanings, Adruo leaned closer to the writings, looking carefully to see if there were any double meanings in the words. At least her position hid her blush from the compliment. She laughed nervously, not too sure how to answer. The dragonkin took her time straightening up. “Um, well my grandmother taught me most of the tales and the others I read about. As for how I remember…”

She furrowed her brows. How did she remember? It was difficult to recall now that it was pointed out. “It depends on how the information is being given. If it’s spoken, I repeat the words in my head while I listen. If it’s written, I sort of… See it.” She pointed to her skull. “It’s like a picture of the page is in my mind. I can see the yellowed paper and the folded edges.” She closed her eyes as she spoke, visualising a story. “While Semino is known for his patience and kindness, many forget that the nature god has created devastation. Of all the gods, while Semino rarely causes damage, his destruction was far greater than the more volatile gods.” She recited flawlessly. She opened her eyes again and looked at the elf sheepishly. “I was reading it.” Adruo didn’t know how else to explain it.

“Adruo that’s amazing!” Romon said with mouth agape. He looked genuinely impressed. “I have...no idea how you managed to do that, but still that’s pretty cool.” He briefly glanced back at the puzzle with a scowl. “Anything in that book to help us out here? Supposedly nobody remembers the riddles...but if there’s anything I know about knowledge, it’s that most of it is really bad at staying secret.Anything at all, no matter how small...it might make all the difference.” Romon then shrugged. “If not? Well, we’ll just have to work this out.”

Adruo took a moment to close her eyes and think. “All I’ve ever read is that no one gets past the first puzzle. They say it either changes every time or Animus wipes their memory of it.” The dragonkin had to try her best to remain professional. The compliment was pretty high praise for her. While she was proud of it, her memory wasn't really something many people commented on. Even so, she could do little to stop the blush creeping onto her cheeks.

The dragonkin shook herself and looked back to the riddle. “One thing I find strange - other than the whole situation in the riddle - is Sir Gade’s steed. Gade is a name from the mainland, most commonly Eden. He wouldn’t be from Fraiku, so why a zebra? He would be riding a horse.” It was nitpicking, but the conflicting facts was irking her.

“It’s out of place?” Romon muttered, confused. He’d never heard of zebras before today, but he figured Adruo knew a lot of things he didn’t. He darted to the riddle, scanning it feverishly. “Adruo, I need your help with something, but I might be able to solve this, can you tell me what kind of gems those are over there? I...never learned the finer details, it’s complicated but I’m not a big fan of gems, or...caves in general.” He shuddered for a moment before turning his attention back to the zebra. “Castle atop a zebra...topazebra...topaz!” He faced her again. “Adruo! Is there a topaz over there?”

Adruo blinked in surprise at the sudden shout from the elf. She quickly shook herself and scanned the gems in the nearest statue. Her eyes widened in shock. “Yeah, there’s one right here.” She carefully dislodged the gem and carried it to Romon. The golden brown gem almost camouflaged against her scaled hands.

“Then I think we’re back in business.” Romon said with a grin before pointing back to the puzzle. “I couldn’t tell because...well, reading and writing aren’t my strong suits. But if Topaz was hidden here…” He pointed to the phrase. “The rest of them might be here too, I don’t know metallurgy or anything of the sort...so I need you to identify the gems for me alright? Besides the obvious that is. I think one of them over there is a diamond?” Romon shrugged helplessly before returning to the riddle with a fresh zealous outlook. He had a lead, that meant that maybe he could have a little hope after all. The elf wanted to help everyone he could, and getting seriously stumped had driven him up the wall. The pressure could get to him from time to time.

“So then, ready for a little teamwork? I’ll scan the riddle for gems, you identify which gems are what….maybe tell me a little on how to spell a few of them, sound like a solid plan?”

Adruo grinned from ear to ear. “Sounds like a great plan.” She gently placed the gem in Romon’s hand before returning to the statue she had taken the topaz from. She touched her hands to each of the gems for a few seconds. She wanted to make sure she was confident in what the gems were. “The other three here are amethyst, malachite, and agate.” She chuckled slightly. “Not the easiest to spell, granted.” She closed her eyes and spelled out each gem slowly for the elf.

“Alright!” Romon exclaimed as he began to scan the riddle for more gems. It took awhile, and he had to double check with spelling a few times. “Hah! Got some more. Amethyst and agate. Can you hand them over?”

Adruo scuttled back and forth between the statues and Romon. She called out the gems, helping the elf with spellings when he needed it. With their teamwork, they quickly collected all eight gems needed. Each was gently placed into the tubes.

The floor rumbled. A few pebbles and clouds of dust dislodged from the ceiling. Adruo looked around in worry. When her gaze fell on the elf she put her hands up in a sort of defence. “I swear, it wasn’t me.” She hadn’t fallen since they had stepped foot in the library. She definitely wasn’t the cause of the ominous shaking.

The stone slab that held the plaque began sinking into the floor. Soon, stairs leading down were revealed. They weren’t that long and had light at the end. The dragonkin looked to her companion. “I think we did it.”

“Well, only one thing to do then, let’s see what’s at the end of all this.” He gave Adruo a curt nod, trying to focus again on what was going to appear, truth be told Romon had no clue what to expect of this staircase, was it another puzzle? He had to be on guard. Before he descended however, he gave Adruo a slightly awkward hug. “Listen, I’d never have been able to do this without you...so...thanks?” Coughing slightly, Romon then turned to the stairs and started walking down, on guard for more puzzles.

Adruo was in pure shock at the action. She had gotten quite comfortable around Romon since he was an elf and she was well acquainted with their culture. In that sense, she could more or less guess how he would act in certain situations. Elves tended to be pretty cut and dry in how they dealt with various situations.

When showing thanks, it was generally a nod, awkward pat on the back, and an “I appreciate the aid” between friends. Within the far more formal royal court, you would be lucky just to get a nod. Hugs were pretty foreign from elves unless you were family. Dragonkin though, they were not at all shy about physical contact.

Adruo didn’t get the chance to return the gesture before Romon quickly moved away. Even so, she gave a gentle smile. “Thank you Romon.” She knew doing something that some may see as nothing would actually take a lot of the elf. She happily followed her companion down the stairs.

The two were greeted by room lit by an eerie yet warm pink light. It wasn’t large, but not claustrophobic. In the centre of the room, light filtered down from the stained glass roof to illuminate a pedestal. On the stone lay two swords. Adruo gasped at the sight.

The room began to get brighter until the two had to shield their eyes. Once the light died down again, the god of mind was there to greet them. The great dragon god had coiled around the pedestal and had watchful eyes on the duo in front of him. For a few moments, he said nothing and just observed them.

“You have made it far. Congratulations on completing the trails.” His head moved slightly so he looked at the weapons below him. “A waste of time in my opinion, but necessary.” He seemed to scoff at the idea. “Elven Blade,” He spoke to Romon again, voice holding authority that no mortal could ever hope to muster, “I have seen great potential in you. You have proved yourself so far, but this is only the beginning. Take these blades and, with them, learn about the true power of the mind.” The god closed his eyes.

“May your wisdom guide those who need it. May your mind remain sharp and retain willingness to learn. As you accept this weapon, you accept a great task. Know that the God of Mind watches over you.” Similar to the one Aura said when still in Eden, Animus gave his own version of the god’s prayer. When he opened his eyes again, they were slightly duller than before. “I must leave this realm now before I cause damage. God speed, Elven Blade, Wielder of Mind and Soul.” With that, the god faded away, as if he was never there in the first place.

Nothing escaped the Elf’s lips for a short time after that, the weight of the first part of his quest was over, yet Romon felt more and more responsibility weighing down on his shoulders. He had Adruo and the others...but the burden was still heavy. He sat there in silence, steelign his resolve, as he knew that once he grabbed the blades there truly would be no turning back. The simple life he knew was over now...he was going to be a hero, just like he had set out to do. The elf smiled softly as he reminisced in memories of his past life...maybe one day things could be as simple as they were back then for now though, he had his mission to accomplish. Taking a step forward after the god had vanished, he took the blades into his hands.

There was a moment of silence. It was quickly broken by loud arguing. “He got it fair and square.”
“But did he?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, you saw the whole thing. He got help from the other one.”
“That’s because he couldn’t read.”
“What kind of Chosen can’t read!”
“Our last wielder couldn’t.”
“... That was a hundred years ago. Things are different now.”
“Well I think he’s cute.”
“Now your true reasoning shines through!”
“And you’re just jealous.”

One voice female and the other male argued back and forth before the male huffed and stayed silent. Adruo was completely unaware of the exchange. However, Romon heard the voices loud and clear within his own head. The small gem in the crosspiece of the swords glowed in unison with the words being said by that sword.

Romon blinked in shock for a moment, almost not registering where the voices were coming from. His daggers could...talk? Okay then, that was going to be interesting. From the looks of things one of them wasn't’ very happy with him either. Romon let out a soft sigh, looks like the ultimate trial was just beginning. “Hey...there.” He said awkwardly. “I can hear you now, My name is Romon Truebark, the Elvenblade. Nice to meet you...I think.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I would like to point out, that at no point do the rules state the puzzles must be solved alone.”

There was a pause of silence from the blades. One sighed while the other laughed.
“He’s a smart one, I told you.”
“No, Animus told us. You had no idea.”
“Well, a god is a god. They generally know better than you. You specifically.”
The two blades continued bickering back and forth, now pretty much ignoring their wielder.

“Romon? Are you talking to the blades?” The dragonkin who had remained silent until now looked at him in curious concern. The male voice chortled in the elf’s head. “Ha! She thinks you’re mad! Oh, this is brilliant. Go on Elf, explain to your girly friend how you’re talking to two inanimate objects.”

“For one of said objects, it’s a bit low to call yourself inanimate don't you think?” Romon retorted bluntly to the snarky blade.Before turning his attention to Adruo and nodding. “Yep, they talk, quite the personality to them too. I’d hand them to you, but based on what you’ve told me about the weapons...well, chances are they won't’ talk to you, I could be wrong of course, but wasn't’ that scythe super heavy to everyone but the wielder? A similar process may apply here. I’m not going insane, I can assure you that.” Romon shrugged. “You can try holding them if you like.” He paused. “Actually, I might as well ask, if she held you, would you be able to speak?”

“Oh, of course! The souls placed in the weapons would create a link to the wielder allowing speech of a kind.” Adruo’s face lit up in fascination.

“Wait, what? She doesn’t think you’re crazy? Damn…” The male voice sulked while the female laughed at his torment.

“Dearie, her being able to hear us or not would be the last of your problems if she tried to wield us.” The female said, surprisingly condescending.
“She’s right. Your friend there would end up the koo-koo one if she tried.”
“Aw, how sweet. You admitted I knew better than you.”
“I hope he shoves you up a demon’s arse.” And another slew of insults were flung between the two swords at high speeds.


“...Right.” romon said as he tried to tune out the brunt of the arguing. On one hand, it was somewhat irritating but on the other Romon could understand why they were acting like they were. His parents had been married for a long time, and they had explained to him that the only way to deal with being so close to someone for so long is to drive them batty from time to time. Still...it’d take some getting used to.

“So new plan, apparently you touching the blades is a bad idea. They’d drive you insane, which I can say in confidence is a thing neither of us desire anytime soon….so thanks for taking me on my word about them being able to talk." He looked down at the two daggers. “Wait a moment, what was that you said about the last chosen not being able to read?”

The daggers’ glows dimmed as they quietened down. “Listen hon, one hundred years-” The female started only to be cut off by the male. “We ain’t married.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“He was thinking it!”
“He was thinking about his parents saying that being close to someone does that. Not necessarily being married.”
“Perhaps, but we argue since we don’t like each other.” There was an extended pause.

“As I was saying,” The female carried on as if she was never interrupted. “Hundred years ago, illiteracy was a lot more common. Only the rich, noble, and scholars were taught how to read. Only about half the previous Chosen could read. Our previous wielder was a… less than great man when he found us. Much like yourself.”
“He grew well though. We’ll see if you’re able to live up to that.”

‘Well...thank you.’ he thought to himself as if to test out communicating silently with the two swords. Shouting out strategies wasn't really an option in the middle of combat after all. Switching to speech, he spoke loud enough for Adruo to hear. “So...what should I call you guys? You were souls right? That means you had to have names at some point.” while waiting for an answer, he looked to Adruo. "We should probably start getting out of here, see any exits?"

“If you weren’t called by your own name for one hundred years, do you really think you would remember it?” The male asked condescendingly.
“Hon, we left our mortal names with our our old bodies. I am Mind and he is Soul.”
“Hey, why do you get to be Mind? You’re the emotional one. You should be Soul.”
“I was Soul for the last 20 years. It’s your turn now.”
“20 years? To who? No one was here to call you that. Don’t try pull a veil over my eyes.”
“You don’t even have eyes.”

Adruo, not hearing the pointless argument, simply pointed to a door behind the pedestal. It wasn’t at all hidden and looked completely normal. She didn’t want to comment on how it was pretty obvious, since Romon seemed pretty distracted by the weapons in his hands.

Romon nodded to her with a grateful expression on his face, and lead her out through the door. He was grateful for that much at least. As he walked he mentally interluded the banter. ‘Hate to stop the bickering, but one more question. Can you give me some info on what you two do? I have have a general idea I think...but specifics would be better to learn now than later.’

The door, somehow, led them outdoors. They were greeted by the other side of the library. Or rather, what the other side of the library saw. The cliff face was hanging over the vast expanse of sea. It was breathtaking as the setting sun cast its golden hues onto the water.

“We trick people.” The female said.
“That makes us sound far less intelligent than we are. We can cause your opponents to have hallucinations.”
“It can be pretty useful. Or, you can forget that and use us as you would any old daggers. Waste our potential as you waste your own.”

“Sounds neat.” Romon said out loud. “Illusions can be powerful, no way I’m going to give up a chance to make use in combat...I might even have to retire my smoke bombs for now if they’re that effective.” The thought of retiring some of his old arsenal was somewhat sobering, but...he wasn’t sure he could do that yet.They’d still come in handy sometime wouldn’t they? It always paid to be prepared. ‘I don’t suppose you two have any tips for taking down the Demon king? Any legendary yet unknown press here to defeat bad guy switches would be appreciated.’

After thinking with the blades, he whistled low and looked at the expanse in front of them. “It’s a nice view, isn’t it Adruo? Hopeful really...whatcha think? Should we stay and watch the sunset for a few moments or get into the thick of things again?”

Romon liked sunsets, they were an aspect of his life he wasn’t ready to give up.

Adruo smiled at the elf. She was still getting over the fact that they had done it. They had completed the trails. Romon had his weapon. They were one step closer to defeating the demon lord once and for all.
“You’ve worked hard. I think we can take a moment to rest.” The dragonkin looked to the sky. “I haven’t seen any of the other lights. I think we’re a bit ahead of the others.” She grinned wide. “So that means you’re the second to get your weapon after Mayweather.”

She stretched out her leathery wings as she walked to the edge of the cliff. They had gotten rather stiff being folded up for so long. Adruo sat on the precipice, feet haning off the edge. Her gray eyes took on a golden glow as she stared into the sunset.

“The sun rises. The sun falls. Its cycle remains unbroken. It takes no notice of what wars or festivities mortals have. However, it never fails to light the way for us mortals during the day. Even at night, it aids the moon in illuminating the night.
Yet, at our darkest hour, its light remained dormant. The sun evaded us and remained hidden. Now, without that great light, mortals could finally shine their own light and guide each other.” Adruo closed her eyes after reciting the passage. “The sun seems to have a mind of its own, hey?” She gave a chuckle at that. Not even Aura, goddess of weather and the leader of the other gods, could change the course of the sun.

TerraBooma TerraBooma
 
Sylvanus Rachnor
​
As Chilali worked on Sylvanus's wounds he couldn't help but feel annoyed, they were wasting precious time with this and he often got caught and called out by Chilali when he tapped his foot on the ground, causing him to shake only slightly, but apparently enough to make things more difficult for her. He hated sitting still, especially if it was because he needed to recover, sleep and other forms of resting was considered expendable for him when compared to continuing the hunt for the weapons, they'd already wasted plenty of time and he didn't want to waste any more, so he ended up with the decision of sitting still to the best of his capabilities.

As soon as Chilali was finished, which was way later than Sylvanus would've wanted, but of course she had to be thorough with the wounds he had. "Next time tell me sooner" Chilali told him after she was done. "Next time I'd much rather try to keep them better hidden if it's gonna take that long" He responded with an annoyed tone "Now the sun's gone down and we're gonna have to waste even more time by setting up camp and rest, aren't we?" And just as he'd said so did Chilali ask him to set up a fire, which wasn't exactly one of his strong sides, Sylvanus was more used to hunt his own prey and eat it raw, which worked fine with his heritage. "You can go ahead and set up the fire, I'll go off to check the areas for possible threats" And then shot a pair of strings into the trees and threw himself away.

After a quick scouting trip Sylvanus returned to the camp, holding a rabbit in each hand, necks wrung, he saw Chilali sitting by the fire, cooking the rations. "I didn't see anything directly threatening, but I did find these" He said as he put down one of the bunnies next to her. "Use it for extra rations or cook it now, I know that I'm gonna eat mine anyway" He said as he used the sharp end of one of his limbs to tear up the belly of the bunny, spurting blood all over him and the ground around him. "If you're going to fix those sleeves, I suggest you do it now, I'm usually calmest while eating" He said between the mouthfulls of meat.

KiKi Kitsune KiKi Kitsune
 


Phoebe raised her chin and huffed, groaning when the coolness of her breath was engulfed by the hot and humid air of the forest as soon as it left her mouth. The heat was so unbearable, it actually made the entrance of that ominous temple, with those dripping sounds of water bouncing off its cool walls, both look and sound inviting. Perhaps it was just the discomfort talking, but there was this feeling of certainty in her, this consuming thought that the simple action of stepping inside that temple would make everything better.

But one side glance at Kito kneeling beside her was enough to convince her that the two of them weren’t going anywhere too soon.

Swallowing down a sigh, she moved to stand in front of Kito, casting a small shadow over him. Not in any hurry to speak, she bought herself some time by fishing out a leather strip and tying her hair up with it, effectively keeping it as far away from her heated skin as possible.

“Never mind that,” she eventually spoke, brushing off his concern.

There was something tiresome about that sort of cheap kindness, the kind that was too earnest for a polite gesture but not enough to cross the line into obsessive or overbearing behaviour. She could deal with either of those, but that particular kind always left her feeling not only at a loss, not knowing the right way to respond, but also somehow petty for being bothered by it. And, unfortunately, it seemed to be a constant with Kito.

“I’m not the one you should be worrying about,” she added, eyes growing softer after a more careful look at Kito’s pained expression. He reeked of distress, and it was hard not to sympathise, even if a little bit.

“There is nothing wrong with feeling scared and angry, you know? You don’t have to hide it behind a smile.”

Somewhere in the back of her head, a voice pointed out the hypocrisy in her own words. That she was the last person who should be preaching about not being afraid to show the uglier side of one’s self. But she gave it the cold shoulder.

This was different, she insisted. Her uglier side could harm or embarrass herself and others. And she didn’t hide it behind a facade of happiness.

“If it helps, you won’t be alone down there. I’ll be there with you, all the way, ready to do what I can to help.”

And I’ll be dammed if someone else dies on my watch again, she finished in her head, eyes sharp and locked onto her partner's.


 
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FeKitoa and Phoebe​

Kito nodded his head weakly and forced a smile only to realize that was exactly what she told him not to do. His gaze shot back down to the floor. He tried to catch his breath hitching in his throat, with every exhale it became a bit easier.


“That helps a bit thanks, Phoebe. I just hope I can do Semino justice. Or at least see why he chose me. I don't even know myself.” He said, eyes flickering back to the dark hole that was the home of his weapon. It seemed more ominous than it truly was and less threatening than he was building it up to be. But still a bad feeling bubbled and settled at the tip of his tongue to the end of his throat.


“Who knows what the Gods are thinking?” Phoebe muttered, crossing her arms.


The Gods had always been an odd concept to her, a big boulder in the middle of the road of scientific research. Their limited interaction with living beings made it easier to just push them out of the equation entirely, but that sort of sidestepping had never sat well with her. Divinity didn’t last long under a microscopic lense, but if she didn’t believe that these beings had access to knowledge no mortal had, then that opened up the possibility that they had been chosen by beings who had no idea what they were doing, or had made the wrong choice. And that was not a comforting thought.


“But they are the Gods, working with variables we can’t even conceive, so for now let’s trust their choices. Semino must know you’ll do well, somehow.” She nodded to herself as a sort of reassurance, even though a not so small part of her, the one used to scientific thought, told her to always doubt.


“Or at the very least that you have the capability to do well. So let’s do our best,” she finished with a smile she hoped was reassuring, offering her hand in case he was ready to go.


Kito seemed to perk up with her words.


“Yeah, yeah you're right.” He said with a brighter, more genuine grin. A glint of an emotion besides fear sparkling in his eyes.


“Semino wouldn't pick me randomly.” He echoed her words, letting the idea sit in his head. Fekitoa begrudgingly accepted whatever advice Phoebe gave without back chat in hopes it would help Kito. Phoebe’s hand was caught in his vision and the outstretched palm was an odd sight. His eyebrows creased together in confusion. He was ashamed to realize how long it took him to notice she was letting him hold her hand. Kito’s pale skin went a beetroot red and beads of sweat started to condense on his forehead in a moment of nerves. ‘The Chosen of Semino’ Fekitoa thought bitterly. Eventually and with great hesitation, often pulling his hand towards his chest and holding it for a fearful moment it was all simply an illusion, Kito reached for Phoebe’s hand a bit too tightly.


“S-s-so should I l-l-lead us in o-o-or y-you?” He spat out quickly.


Phoebe didn’t answer right away, mind too focused on not tensing up or showing other signs of nervousness. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do when her dear side was dangerously close to having a panic attack. Her surroundings had become nothing but a blur as her vision zoned in on those talons, dark and glossy under the sunlight, tips pressed against the bulging veins in her wrist. One particular scar in the back of her neck started to itch, the burn a strong reminder of how dangerous a bird of prey could actually be.


Her breath hitched before she could swallow it up. Phoebe knew there was no way Kito hadn’t noticed that, so before he could process it she held his hand a little more firmly, grasped his wrist with her other hand and pulled him up, or at least tried to. She hadn’t expected the harpy to be so heavy, though the wings might’ve accounted for most of that weight, so he ended up having to steady her and stand up on his own, which was sort of embarrassing for her.


“I can lead for now,” she replied, voice rushing to fill the silence. Turning her back to Kito, she started leading him towards the temple. As they stepped inside, her free hand silently reached for her belt, brushing the leather sheath that held the knife she’d bought back in Eden.


“But as soon as we spot your weapon, you should probably take the lead. Does that sound right?”


Kito looked around the large hall. Mesmerized by the ceilings as far away and as beautiful as the night sky. Dust filtering through the cracks like slow moving glitter, an ethereal silence and quiet beauty so entrancing he had almost forgotten his own fear. A few streams trickled beneath their feet and vines tangled and wove their way like veins through the thick stone. He made a sound in agreement to Phoebe. He was happy she was leading and the coolness of the environment gave him a calmness he didn't think he'd ever had before. Truly, this was Semino’s trial. A trial where the environment was more calm than reality.


It felt like they had been walking forever with just their thoughts as conversation when Kito noticed a bright metal that caught the light greater than any rock or plant ever could. Following the blinding blaze he let go of Phoebe’s hand and moved ahead of her. Up ahead was a large piece of set clay piling higher and higher into the ceiling and right at the very top seemingly set in this man made mountain was his weapon. Kito couldn't believe his eyes.


“No way.” He murmured to himself. His head shot behind him and looked to Phoebe.


“It can't be this easy can it? J-j-just fly up and g-grab it?”


“I don’t,” the young woman started to say, but the words seemed to fade away in the echoes of the great hall. Her eyes didn’t know where to settle, darting from Kito’s own wide-eyed gaze to the glinting sword looking down at them.

“Let’s just calm down and think for a second, alright?” she urged, with her hands held up between them, as if that would stop the harpy from taking off. Convinced that her partner wouldn’t do anything reckless, Phoebe turned to face the mountain of clay and the prize resting atop of it.


It didn’t feel right, was the thought that kept repeating itself in her head, like the drip drop of water inside these stone walls. Her colleagues back at the library would say she was overthinking things, as always, but everything about the setup seemed too convenient. There was supposed to be a challenge for each of these weapons, a way to keep them safe and away from the wrong hands. And putting one of them in a high far from the ground, no matter how high it might be, didn’t feel like much of a challenge. There had to be more to it.


“No, it can’t be that easy. And from what we’ve heard about these weapons, it most definitely won’t be so,” she told him. There was a thick pause as Phoebe stood there, looking at the sword and biting her thumb in silence. But then she sighed and added, “But we have to do something. Just,” she breathed in deep, “just be careful. Expect anything.”


Kito nodded. He wasn't completely sure what to do in this situation either. The whole scenario was too simple. No tests, no confusing mazes, there wasn't even a large guardian blocking the path.


‘Perhaps it's a mind game.’ Fekitoa mused. Kito looked perplex.


‘It's that simple because it is. Just go up and grab it we'll deal with whatever comes after. Stop wasting time.’


Kito's confused expression melted into that of a small boy having been scolded by a teacher. He nodded and rubbed his hands together. Trying to stop both nerves and the cramping muscles starting to twitch his fingers. With a few deep breaths his wings beat slowly and unsteadily. A shaky start, but within moments he was climbing higher and higher into the air. The mountain of clay narrowed and narrowed into a thin peak with only the sword’s hilt glinting out at the top. He tried to land graciously, but he had never been one for grace and he collided into the rock and started immediately to lose his grip. He dug his taloned feet and claws into the clay and bit back a yelp. Soon enough he stopped and his quivering breaths was the only thing preventing the whimpering caught at the back of his throat.


Kito looked down, Phoebe was no bigger than his own fist.


“Kito!” she called, voice high and sharpened by worry.


“I-I’m okay!” He yelled down, but his voice echoed, bounced and rippled through every corner and crevice of the large room. He shrunk into himself, his wings tucking themselves closer to his body to shield the outside world.


“M-my bad.” He apologized softly. “I'm going to get the sword now.”


Down below, Phoebe let out a shaky breath and pushed her face into her hands. She wasn’t the one up there, holding on to dear life, yet she still felt that sinking feeling in her stomach and the dizziness that took hold whenever her feet weren’t firmly planted on safe ground. But she couldn’t afford to just close her eyes and pretend she was somewhere else, not this time. So she opened them and threw her head back to make sure her voice carried through.


“Just, for Semino’s sake, be careful!”


“R-right! For Semino’s sake!” He answered back.


“For Semino’s sake.” He repeated, a forced humourless laugh going on a bit longer than needed. For Semino, that was indeed a lot of pressure. He gulped down his fears and repressed any insecurities for the time being. He looked up. He was merely a metre or two from the sword, but still too far to reach from where he was currently positioned.


‘Kito.’


‘Feki, I honestly can't listen to anything sarcastic right now, I may have a breakdown.’


‘Alright calm down you overdramatic birdbrain. I have a plan.’


Kito didn't like the name calling, not one bit, but a plan could help. Listening to Fekitoa his eyes widened in shock.


“I'm not doing that.” He shrieked a bit too loudly, he was sure even Phoebe would be able to pick up his defiance to the idea. But Fekitoa assured him it would work and if not he would come out. But Kito didn't want that.


Summoning up his courage he dug his nails deeper into the rock and climbed his way up, repeatedly digging his claws deeper the higher he went in an effort not to fall. He forced back his tears, convinced at this point he’s lost a claw to the clay. He was so close now he could smell the flowers hidden beneath the sword. He recognized the small orange petalled fauna. Kairos Blossoms. Also known as King’s Blessings. They were the flower of champions.


“Of course.” Kito muttered. “Of course.” He hadn't even realized he had frozen in place. Lost in thought or fear, the lines had blurred at this point.


“What is he doing up there?” Phoebe whispered to no one, eyes sharp and trained on the dark silhouette that had suddenly gone very still and silent. That worried her, so even though the echoes hurt her ears and made her uneasy, she decided to call out to him.

“Kito,” she yelled, crossing her arms and taking a few steps back to ease up some of the tension in her neck muscles, “Is everything alright? Can you see the sword?”


Snapping back to reality he replied back that he was perfectly fine. Looking up at the sword was a different story. It was much larger than he had anticipated and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to unlodge it.


‘Ready? Feet gripped?’


Kito nodded and Fekitoa began the countdown. With a deep breath Kito let go on the ground he was gripping and spread his wings, flapping heavily. Holding himself up with the sheer effort of his wings beating. It was difficult and painful and he wasn't used to flying anchored to the ground. He had definitely broken some claws now. Looking down the sword’s hilt was as clear as day. With a strong grip on the hilt he attempted to remove it. The clay around it crumbled slightly, but it refused to budge.


Kito huffed in frustration. Maybe it was unmovable. He looked down. Phoebe was staring up at him, he could barely make out her expression, but he knew she wanted to know what was happening. And he knew he was not going down without the sword.


His feet released the grip on the claw and positioned himself on either side of the sword. With a strong pull he tried again and again. His hands often slipped from his own grip and he nicked himself even more. Finally with one last tug the sword burst through the clay, stones rocketing everywhere. Although his grip was tight on the sword he lost his position in the air and fell backwards, unable to catch the breeze with his wings. He screeched and held the sword to his chest as he rolled down the mountain, occasionally letting out a small scream. By the time he had stopped falling he was still screaming, but eventually the dizziness subsided and his blurred vision faded into a clear view of Phoebe’s face. Quite some time passed before he had registered what happened. A proud childlike grin encompassing his whole expression despite the bruises on his face and Fekitoa’s rant over being more careful with their body.


“I did it!”


Phoebe’s heart was all but ready to leap out of her throat and she couldn’t even control her breathing for long enough to reign it in. Panic took over, her hands shooting out to inspect every bruise and scratch on Kito’s body, mind flipping through hundreds of pages from medical books she’d read over the years, though not one of them had wasted a single word on treatment of harpies.


The way her hands shook made the job harder than it should’ve been, but she still went through the motions. Without even noticing, she started murmuring, going through a mental list of all the bones in the human body as she brushed her fingers against his temples, then dragging them across his hairline, through his dark locks, all the way to the back of his skull, breathing a sigh of relief when they didn’t come back tinged red.


“Stay still,” Phoebe found herself saying, voice a little unsteady but still firmer than she’d expected, “Does anything hurt?” she questioned, hands moving down to press against his sides, hoping he hadn’t broken any bones, including his wings.


Kito shrunk into himself and held the long sword close to his chest, wrapping it in a tight embrace like a new safety blanket. His heart pounding against the metal, his face flushing a brighter hue than the blossoms still stuck on the hilt.


“I'm fine.” He mumbled before he could even register the pain. Looking down at his feet he noticed a few claws missing and merely the stubs of his toes remaining. He sucked in a breath. It stung quite bad. Looking at Phoebe he smiled meekly.


“Really I'm okay. As good as I expected to be. Actually I kinda expected worse if I'm honest.” He admitted sheepishly. But it didn't matter anymore. He had Semino’s weapon. His weapon. And he got it practically all on his own without Fekitoa needing to exert himself. A small giggle escaped him and he was too excited to try and suppress it. He rested the sword’s hilt under his chin and breathed a sigh in content. His eyes fluttering closed.


“I am ready to go sleep though.”


The peaceful atmosphere only lasted a moment. There was a low rumble which quickly turned into what felt like an earthquake. The stones which made up the walls of the temple became dislodged and flew off at high speeds. There was creaking as the trees that seemed to act as supports folded over themselves.


However, the building falling apart became the least concerning element as the trees began moving and morphing in unnatural looking ways. The three largest trees were standing, blocking the exits. One roared loud enough to shake the fragile building.


The ents stared down at the two. Their eyes were mere dark holes in their bark. Their huge, lumbering figures shifted into what was clearly an offensive stance.


Looking into the dark depths of one of the giant trees, Phoebe could do nothing. It was like all the blood had rushed out of her body. She couldn’t feel her legs, couldn’t budge them an inch, much less get up. Her lungs screamed, but she didn’t dare breathe if it meant that’d be her last. Her hand had flown to the handle of her knife when the ground began to shake, but froze there in face of such towering and alien foes. How useless her weapon had suddenly become.


A beat passed were nothing happened. The world didn’t collapse and they didn’t die. Her eyes stung and the wetness blurred her vision, so she had no choice but to blink. And that seemed to be enough to thaw her body and mind.


Still not daring to move, she shifted her gaze to Kito to confirm he was still there with her, alive. She caught a glimpse of the sword, the glint of the sharp metal, and thought (and maybe this was just survival instinct talking louder than sound judgement) that if the harpy used it well and if she could just shapeshift fast enough, then maybe they could get out of this with their lives. Maybe.


Kito sat on the ground, sword clutched tightly in his knuckle white grip, and froze. Shock was the only thing he could feel. The world around him crumbled into a static like silence. A single ringing pushing back all the white noise as he watched the ents fall into place. Slowly sounds got through to him. Falling stone, gushing water, heavy breathing. His mind began catching up to his movements and he was now standing, not once losing his grip on the sword.


He looked around erratically. There were too many of them for just two people. Or was this his trial? Was he supposed to fight all of these by himself now that he had his weapon? The heavy breathing got louder, yet soon he realized it was his own panic. He looked down to Phoebe.


“P-phoebe, I need you to r-r-run.” Before she could argue he continued his train of thought.


“If this is my trial I need to face it and I don't want you hurt. So please. Phoebe. Go. I'll h-hold them off.” With that he flew into the air, the weight of the sword was pulling him down, but he managed a good swing at an ents face slicing it halfway through before the sword got stuck. He looked fearfully at the ent’s face. Hoping he had done enough damage to halt at least one. Or get the attention of the others.


The figure that the harpy had struck looked at the small creature for a moment. Even without features to be able to show expression, it was as if the ent scoffed at the attempt. With a slow yet smooth movement, the living tree swiped at Kito. The other ents moved closer to the one that was hit. They began to sprout more leaves and looked healthier than before.


They were gaining power from the sword. Ents were made purely from nature and magic, after all. The largest ent looked at the harpy and gave a roar, a shower of splinters shooting out as it did.


On the ground, Phoebe had stumbled her way to one of the pillars that was still standing and hid behind it. The ent’s roar shook the stone floor beneath her feet and her legs gave out, back sliding down the pillar. She covered her ears, but that wasn’t enough to block the painful sounds coming from above. Tunnel vision had set in, amplifying her panic and making it that much harder to concentrate or make any sort of decision. But after looking around frantically, she did spot them.

The exits. The ents had moved away, leaving the exits unprotected. One of them was close enough that she could make a run for it and not get caught if she shaped shifted.


Stars danced across his eyes. The world was in static. He could barely understand he was on the ground but he couldn't grasp what he was doing there. Slowly fragmented memories connected into place. Sounds became easier to recognize. One he was sad to realize was his own crying. The ground shook not from the earth, but the ents and the weight on his chest was not anxiety but the sword. He looked over to Phoebe. Saw her eyeing the exit and finally the dots were connected.


“Go!” He screamed as an ent dug its foot into him and his cries grew louder.


She was actually considering it, but then she heard pained sounds that could only have come from Kito and her heart sunk. She made up her mind and got up. The familiar glowing white enveloped her, burning the shadows around her, and what emerged from it wasn’t Phoebe but Ghost.


The giant deer stepped out of the pillar and began to approach the ents with hesitant steps, the white fire atop its head roaring to life and starting its hypnotic dance. It didn’t want to fight, only to distract, and hoped that would buy it and the big black birdman enough time to get them to safety.


There was a definite shift. The crushing bark and thorns and darkness lifted off him for but a moment. He breathed out raspy breaths. Blood sputtering from his mouth and splinters scattering across the crushed floor. His eye had swollen shut from where a particular blunt piece of wood had knocked him. He wasn't sure what had happened. Was it the sword? Did they sense it. He looked up. Despite his vision or lack thereof he could see who was the focus of their attention. And it wasn't him.


“Phoebe! No!” He coughed out and tried to stand, but the pain in his leg was intolerable. He stood up with the aid of his sword and looked around.


‘Kito, this isn't funny anymore. Let me be in control.’


‘No Fekitoa I can do this.’


Getting to his feet and mustering up what strength he had he swung the sword into its knee. A lot harder than he had the first time. The ents attention fell to the ground. Kito stared upwards. A mixture of horror, fear and determination sprawled across his scratched face.


“D-don’t hurt her!”


The ents turned their full attention back to the bird man. The largest ent moved to attack again while the other two stood back, effectively blocking most escape routes. The largest moving tree swiped at Kito. It’s movements were slow but forceful. Winds were created from the slightest of the monsters’ movements.


Ghost backed away, trying to stay low and as far away from the edge of the stony path as possible, lest the winds drag it to the abyss below. The white fire flared up between its antlers, but the ents were not interested in the shape-shifter and ignored the show of light. Kito was their only target.


Inside their collective conscious, Phoebe screamed at the void, angry, afraid and confused. None of this made sense. These creatures, guardians of the temple, were Semino’s creations. So why would they attack the one chosen to yield the sword? This mindless and destructive violence couldn’t be Semino’s test, could it?


Kito’s injured eye had swollen shut. With the limited vision he had left he could just make out all the ents’ attention were on him. Good. His breathing was ragged. And he was almost certain he had broken something or other. But something still wasn't right. Why wasn't she moving? Turning his head to the one way they came in he could see an ent blocking it. ‘No’ he thought. This was useless if Phoebe couldn't make it out alive. Testing his wings he breathed in deep once, then twice and finally with a burst of energy he managed to dash over to the far end of the hall. He collapsed onto the ground. With shaky breaths he looked up.


“We well c-come on. Come get me!”


All three giant beings let out roars that shook the clearly unstable walls. They each crouched slightly before leaping towards the harpy. Their long limbs allowed them to quickly cover the distance. Not caring about whoever didn’t carry the weapon, they didn’t waver at any obstacles in their path. Large boulders were merely kicked out of the way or crushed under their feet.


Kito smiled. Good. Good they were getting out the way. How did he not think of this before.


‘I'm gonna do it.’ he thought. ‘Phoebe is gonna be safe. I'm gonna do something good.”


It was when he saw them moving he realized the one problem. They were coming at him, yes, but Phoebe hadn't moved. Kito felt dread seize up his already stiff muscles. No no. He tried to dart forward, but he stumbled.


“Phoebe!” He cried out, but he knew, even if she moved she wouldn't be quick enough. He tried to move again, but he knew. In his condition he was too slow and Phoebe not quick enough. The anxiety seizing his body collectively tore up his throat and clawed out his mouth in a scratchy wail. The fear spilled through his eyes in an angry river as realization hit him harder than the ents. He was in over his head. And he wasn't going to watch another die. Not again. Not again.


He lowered his weapon in defeat. The defeated cries he held echoed out louder than ever, pausing only to get an intake of breath before more pain spilled out. He didn't even have to say much. With a watery choke he swallowed his hurt pride. He strained out a barely audible word but just loud enough for who he was addressing.


“Feki.”


His eye fluttered closed for a moment. He felt his consciousness slip into the back of his mind and he could sense another coming forward. Kito’s body stood still. A moment where nothing was there.That moment only lasted a second. Both eyes cracked open, an angry spark glinting behind the fiery red eyes. They widened in shock as the weight of everything Kito had endured crashed down on him in an instance. He bit back a horror-stricken scream. Wrestling with what his instincts begged him to do and what his head pleaded with him to finish. Blood poured between his gritted teeth and his breathing hardened. The grip on the sword strengthened and the tears spilling down his face seemed to freeze in place. With an avenging yell he rose up, wings spreading and a few joints popping back into place.


“Not one more step.” Fekitoa glowered and shot forward faster than ever getting between them and Ghost.


“Ghost, stay behind me or get out the way.” He ordered loudly, and rose the sword to block the foot of the ent. Ready to hold it back as long as he could for her to get away. Or as long as he could last.


The ent that was blocked faltered slightly to catch its footing, but removed the weight from Fekitoa. All three paused in their previous path. They turned to face where the harpy now stood. Several moments passed where nothing happened. The living trees simply stared down at the duo with their hollow eyes.


With slow movements that showed none of the previous aggression, the two smaller ents returned to their positions by the walls. They seamlessly morphed back into ordinary looking trees. Any passerby would never have believed that they were previously mobile.


The one remaining ent, however, moved closer to Fekitoa. Instead of attacking the harpy, it slowly lowered itself to one knee, head bowed.


Phoebe was shocked, thoughts tripping over themselves as her mind tried to rationalize what had just happened and why had everything suddenly stopped. But Ghost had neither the need nor the desire for things to make sense. All it knew was what it could see and feel, which was that the world was no longer trying to kill it or those it cared for, and that all the aggressive energy had been swept away by a strong yet tranquil presence. It was like the air itself was soothing it, petting its hide while whispering songs about home and the woods into its ears.


Could that be Semino’s influence, she wondered.


Letting that feeling guide it, the giant deer walked out from behind the harpy with tentative steps. It sniffed the sword and the feathers covering the hand that held it, confused when, amidst the unpleasant metallic tang, it recognised Fekitoa’s scent and not Kito’s. With a snort, the shapeshifter looked up at the kneeling ent and then at the harpy one more time, an inner battle of sorts raging inside its split mind, before deciding that it was safe for it to shift back.


Phoebe stood in its place, staring warily at the towering creature before them.


“I don’t understand. What changed?” she questioned in a soft tone, though she had a theory.


Fekitoa heaved out the breath he didn't know he was holding. His chest rising and falling as ragged gasps slipped between angry coughs. He stared livid, two gaping holes of what was supposed to be eyes gazing back like a dark cold abyss.


“What?” He snapped quickly, but choked before he could finish his thought. Hearing Phoebe’s familiar voice his head whipped towards her instinctively. Her expression creased into a relaxed bewilderment.


“I don't know.” He croaked. The atmosphere was almost too relaxed, he tightened his grip in case the ent was about to plan a colossal swing like it had before, but as the adrenalin slowly dispersed from his torn muscles, so rose to his conscious the burning pain he had endured. Beads of sweat rolled down his head and pooled at the tips of his feathers. Every part of him was screaming bloody murder and more than anything he just wanted to curl up in a ball and take a nap. He looked over once more to his partner. Looking her up and down. He wanted to ask if she was okay. But he couldn't muster the energy to voice his concerns. Instead he waved his hand gingerly in her direction gesturing to most of her and made a series of forced grunts.


“What?” Phoebe questioned, brow furrowed in confusion before it dawned on her the meaning of the other’s gestures. She nodded a couple of times, brushing off the concern. “I’m perfectly fine. You’re the one who took the brunt of it…” she trailed off there, frowning at the myriad of wounds that had been inflicted on her partner.


I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, she wanted to add, but bit her tongue to keep it to herself. Now was not the time.


“Can you hear Semino? Or call for him?” she asked instead, staring at the great sword barely hanging from the harpy’s hands.


Fekitoa’s expression softened and hardened mere moments from each other, but he was pleased to hear she was fine. He carelessly waved to himself and with a flick of the wrist dismissed any idea he was anything other than fine.


“To be honest.” He said swallowing what little spit he had left in an effort to clear his dry throat. “I can only hear a very annoying ringing.”


Any further conversation between the two was cut off by a blinding pillar of light. It stayed for several seconds before dimming into an ethereal, warm green glow. The air around the temple swirled with an aura of healing and calm. Out from the light emerged the god of nature himself, Semino.


Fekitoa wasn't entirely sure what to do. He felt if he dropped to his knees at this moment in time it would be a while before he was able to get back up. With great strain he bowed forward. Wisps of hair that had not been caked in blood or dirt falling over his face.


The god offered the two Chosen a warm, almost apologetic smile. He then turned to the ent before touching his palm to the creature's head. Where the ent kneeled, a second layer of bark engulfed it, growing to the ceiling. Soon, a new, far larger tree gently swayed in the light breeze that passed through. Fekitoa looked up, his mouth agape and eyes widened in wonderment. The celestial being still faced away from the duo.

“I did not expect that outcome. I am deeply sorry to have caused you such harm.” Finally Semino turned back to Fekitoa. “However, the weapon has accepted you now. I hope your miscommunication can be sorted out to prevent that from happening again.”


Fekitoa tore his gaze from the large tree. A perplexed thought burning at the tip of his throat.


“Miscommunication? What miscommunication?”


He moved to touch the weapon but quickly stopped himself. “Ah, sorry about that. I suggest using the weapon to help heal you. I would show you how but-” His head snapped upwards, eyes narrowing slightly. “I digress.” He gazed softly at Fekitoa. Fekitoa was fighting back an angry glare. What? Couldn't the God whose weapon could heal heal him a little bit? But, he reminded himself coolly, this is a God. His God. And he needed to treat him with respect. Sadly.


“May your growth guide and inspire those around you. May your strength and versatility protect those you care for most. As you accept this weapon, you accept a great task. Know that the God of Nature watches over you.”


Fekitoa bowed again. This time with more ease, but only a small amount.


“Thank you, Semino. I will do what I must.” His voice clearer.


Semino bowed his head. “I must take my leave before I cause any further damage to this world. Good luck Chosen of Nature.” With no further words, the god merely faded into nothingness, as if he had never been there.


Fekitoa rose from his bow. Clicking his arm back into place and rustling his wings. He let out a groan.


‘You'd think he'd heal his ‘Chosen of Nature’ so he would last longer.’


‘Fekitoa he's watching us!’


‘What can he hear us now as well?’


Fekitoa looked down at his sword. It was more than half his height and despite being tossed through bark and wood and dirt still gleamed as bright as if it were only just polished. The green gem near its hilt took on a life of its own. The flecks of golds dancing around like that of a curious eye. The hilt still quite pleasantly warm to the touch despite his sweating palms. It was all in all a very beautiful sword. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to do the whole situation much justice. He felt a sharp stitch in his side. Especially in this condition.


“If he had tried heal you, it would have caused more damage to the rest of the world.” A timid voice spoke up from nowhere yet everywhere. Fekitoa already being used to having voices in his head would be able to locate it. “S-sorry.” The clearly female voice quickly apologised.


Fekitoa almost dropped the sword but caught it before it could hit the ground. He looked over to Phoebe with an expression far too out-of-character for Fekitoa’s face. Had she spoken? No, that would mean she could read minds. It couldn't be in his head. It just couldn't.


‘What was that?’


“I-I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The voice spoke again. With each word, the gem in the hilt of the sword glowed slightly. “I… I am the sword, I suppose. Or rather… the soul within the sword? It-it’s a long story.” There was some unsure mumbling before a few moments of silence. “Sorry.” was all she said to break it.


Fekitoa stared down at the gem he had been admiring just a moment before and felt a sharp splitting pain at the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes and pinched the area where the most pain was building.


“Are you serious? More company?” He mumbled under his breath.


‘Fekitoa be nice! Hi sword I'm Kito!’


The warmth that the sword gave cooled for a moment, the gem dulled. However, it lasted only an instant. “H-hello Kito. I am…” The voice sounded confused as they trailed off. “Right. I lost my mortal name when my soul was moved. F-feel f-free to call me w-what you want.” The hilt warmed a little more, as if giving a handshake.


‘We have to name the sword too?’


‘Yes Fekitoa! Shame she can't even remember her name at least be nice.’


‘Can I name her Migraine? Cause I'm getting one.’


‘No! You haven't even introduced yourself! Be nice!’


Fekitoa’s face soured, his mouth wrinkling into an irritated grimace. A look of intense concentration as he started a back and forth battle whilst trying to get used to a new voice. Eventually his face fell in exhausted defeat.


‘Hello. I'm Fekitoa. Since you're my sword I should say it's nice meeting you. But just so you know we went through a lot of trouble to get you.’


The weapon was silent for a few moments but clearly still a presence. “If Migraine works for you, t-that is a fine name.” The sword finally spoke up. “It is a pleasure meeting you Fekitoa. I hope I can help in your quest.” The hilt warmed slightly again as her voice sounded like she would have been smiling had she possessed a body.


Fekitoa’s eyebrow twitched and he fiddled restlessly with the sword. Eventually he sighed.


‘Thank you I suppose. And no no, Migraine... won't do.’ Fekitoa looked around the room trying to find inspiration. He had never had much of an imagination and he even preferred works of fact rather than fiction. Nothing seemed to jump out at him as a definite name.


‘Well this is annoying.’


‘Feki, you can't tell someone that giving them a name is annoying!’


‘I know like four people, Kito it's not like I'm spoiled for choice.’


Fekitoa froze. He looked down again. The green glow calming his aching muscles. The golden flecks dancing mischievously beneath finally reminded him of someone’s eyes. This wasn't a threat, he had to remind himself, his jaw clenching shut. This wasn't someone who could hurt us. This was literally his one shot at surviving this war. He had to be less defensive. If it was going to protect him, then it should have a name he felt had already done so. At least then he could warm up to it faster.


‘Is Nayeli okay?’


The whole blade warmed comfortably. The gem in the hilt glowed bright as the voice spoke. “That sounds like a wonderful name. Thank you very much.” The sword sounded earnestly happy with what Fekitoa had chosen. “S-sorry for being such a nuisance.” She quickly added.


“I-if you keep a hold near the gem, it will help y-you heal faster.” Her voice dropped to sound quite apologetic. “You have been p-pretty badly injured. A cracked rib and a few other bones. Bad lacerations. You sh-should make sure to take out the splinters before they get infected.” Nayeli gave a summary of Fekitoa’s current injuries.


Fekitoa grunted, not one for overly sappy moments, thanked her again, and did as he was told.


To say Phoebe was confused would be an understatement. Her ears picked up all the little sounds, the groans the harpy would make or the mumbles he’d utter under his breath, and all of those pointed to a conversation, albeit one she couldn’t hear. But with whom, or what, she couldn’t be sure.


“Fekitoa?” she called out to him, more than one question in her voice. She lacked the sharp nose of her deer form to confirm which side of the harpy was currently in control, but if she was reading the situation right than her guess should be correct.


With the tentative steps of a prey on edge, she moved in closer, careful to stay on the side of the harpy unguarded by the large sword. The lulling atmosphere had left with Semino, so all the nerves from the fight were starting to catch up to her, making it difficult to think of anything else other than leaving the temple as quickly as possible. But she tried to keep her head clear as she turned to face the other.


“Were you talking to someone just now?” she questioned, voice slow and measured. Her eyes followed his hands, those dark palms brushing over a feathered torso through the huge tear in his shirt, and she flinched at the wounds she could make out beneath the plumage. Her hands twitched with the yearning to check his injuries herself, with softer, clawless hands that could feel and prod without worrying about drawing even more blood. But she wasn’t sure how Fekitoa would react to her touch right now, so she kept them to herself for the time being.


“Was it Kito?” Her eyes turned from his wounds to the broadsword and the soft glow of its gem. “Or maybe the sword?”


Fekitoa looked up. Saw the concern in her eyes and watched them fall to the sword.


“How did you know it was the sword, Silva?”

He asked a little more cold than he intended. He didn't give her much time to answer.


“But yes it's the sword.” He tapped the gem with his good arm although good being alternative word.


“This is Nayeli.” He said with a voice slightly more quiet than his usual cut throat tone.


“Nayeli?” Phoebe whispered, mulling over the name. She then rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand, feeling the adrenaline in her body ebb away and give room to fatigue. “It doesn’t matter how I knew. Let’s just get out of the temple. There’s nothing left here for us and we need to tend to your wounds. Can you walk?”


Fekitoa relaxed, relieved she hadn't commented on his name choice and now faced the new problem. While the sword was healing him and he did feel the pain subsiding his wings hung limply on his sides like weights and he was almost certain he had torn a ligament, but he was at least going to try.


“Perhaps.” He said in a voice that was both confident and unsure. Supporting the sword on the side of the weaker leg as a sort of crutch he attempted a step. He dug the sword deeper into the clay and quickly strode forward yet not soon after he tumbled to his knees. His wings spreading further onto the ground like a worn carpet, the feathers trembling slightly. Looking between his wings, his legs and the sword he looked back at Phoebe.


“Not well.” He said bluntly.


Phoebe’s breath hitched and she looked away, eyes sweeping over the temple’s walls in search for a solution. An idea suddenly crossed her mind, and athough it wasn’t one she was completely happy with, it would have to do. She breathed in deeply and let all of that air out in a sigh before locking their gazes once more.


“I’ll shift into Ghost. I’m much stronger in my deer form, so you can lean on my side or,” she stoped here to stare at Fekitoa’s rather wide wing span, “if that doesn’t help, you can climb onto my back. I don’t mind.”


That was a lie. Phoebe did mind, very much so. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d made a point of not letting people ride her like some stupid horse, but for this situation she was willing to make an exception.


Not wanting to hear any objections, least she change her mind, Phoebe made quick work of shape-shifting back into Ghost. Doing it so soon after her last shift was a bit painful, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. The white light enveloped her and faded, leaving the Giant Ghost Deer in its place.


Ghost sniffed the air a couple of times before stepping over to Fekitoa’s side and slowly lowering itself to the ground so the harpy could climb on its back if he wished, or just hold onto its side a little bit easier.


‘Good gods no.’ was his first instinct. He hated help. He hated help from anybody ever. If he was any less hurt he'd have rejected the offer immediate, but Fekitoa looked on, eyes wide and mouth moving wordlessly. Silently asking what she was thinking but not finding the voice behind the questions. He watched Ghost carefully crouch down to him and he stared at her ochre eyes with a curious confusion. He knew leaning wasn't going to be much good. He tried that with the sword and he didn't get very far. With hidden effort he rose to his feet. This whole experience was uncomfortable and for a split second he considered crawling through the forest. Biting back his pride he practically tripped onto Ghost’s back. Ripping off a torn piece of fabric he made a makeshift belt and tied the sword close enough to his waist he could still get the healing from the gem, but loose enough for it to dangle over her side. Once happy he tried to hold himself up, but Ghosts soft fur was enough for him to realize despite his tough act and Nayeli’s healing he was very tired. There was a long pause before he was able to muster up what he not only knew he needed to say, but in a rare event, wanted to.


“Thanks, Ghost.”


The deer shook its head and snorted as a response. It gently lifted itself off the ground so as to not disturb the winged man and walked them out of the temple, the sound of its hooves as they hit the stone floor a constant rhythm that echoed all around them.
 
There was a white light flickering in a dark forest. It was as though all the colour had drained from the world and it was left forgotten in a muted grey. Fekitoa looked around trying desperately to find this flickering fire dancing mischievously out his vision everytime he drew closer. He could sense this wasn't something he wanted to do, he could almost sense himself purposefully keeping far away, but he needed to find it. He needed this flame. Every time he drew closer the world grew darker and more dense. He could feel the space closing further and further around him and he was only remotely aware he had something sharp in his hands. He swung desperately to give himself more space and by whatever odds it was working. He could just see the flame now. Feel the light on his skin almost touch it, he could see fragments of colour flicking to life at wherever it shone. He was so close. He reached out desperate to grab it, but he was stopped. Stopped by a young Harpy drenched in black liquid coating her Sepia feathers. Her fearful eyes glossed over in tearful recognition. She called out his name. Over and over and over getting louder and louder.

"BOY!"

A coldness embraced him in an unwanted hug and Fekitoa jolted up. His eyes burned from the bright sunlight and he could hear a trickling of water falling loudly on the floor followed by a metal clanging. What was going on?

"Ma, you can't just chuck a sleeping fella with water!"

"I know, Rhett what do you take me for? But he was stirring and this poor little lady has been waiting here for two days! And stirring means no coma!"

Fekitoa limply rubbed his eyes, he could feel the sleep weighing him down and he tried to adjust to this new room. He could barely make out two figures. Who were these people?

"But that don't mean douse him in water, Ma!" A boy's voice rose back incredulously.

"Well it worked!"

Fekitoa squinted at them. He had never met these people in his life.

"Oh, Kito! Thank the heavens above yous alright! You gave me such a scare when y'all first arrived together I thought the Gods had gotten you!"

Fekitoa could now recognize them from Kito's perspective and Kito, who claimed to have been wide awake for hours, briefed him on who they were Fekiton finally understood.

"How long did you say I was out?"

Beulah pouted clearly not the answer she was waiting for.

"Two days! My goodness you little lamb you were about as put together as my great granny's rag doll I keep in the attic!"

Fekitoa was only getting every third word and so he nodded, hoping this was enough to reassure her.

"I'm gonna get the breakfast now! You best wake your friend up there. I'll bring it here in a jiffy!" And with that the plump woman ran out the room. Rhett stayed by looking at Fekitoa with an inquisitive stare.

"You not a morning person?" He asked. Fekitoa shook his head. Rhett scoffed.

"Explains why you're not acting like yourself. That and you probs still half in the dream land. We left your sword where you dropped it on the floor. Pa said it would be a bad idea to pick it up. We meant no disrespect. Anywho I'm gonna help, Ma." Fekitoa nodded. Once Rhett left the room he took in his surroundings at his own pace. He assumed it was Rhett's room. It felt more like a teenage boy's than a couple'so and the light filtering through gave some indication it was late morning. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the sword. The gem glimmering gently in a soft glow. To his right lay Phoebe, her body half in the chair she had propped as close to the bed as possible and her head resting at a rather odd angle in her arms on the duvet. He could just make out a steady line of drool pooling near him. He cocked his head to the side. It was a bit of an amusing sight. He could feel the corner of his mouth twitch. Her hair was covering most of her face and at first he though the light had caused her dark hair to be bathed in silver, but to his surprise she had a streak of gray running down the length of her locks. He was slightly aware he had been asked to do something and was about to wake Phoebe up to ask for help on the matter when he realized that was exactly what he needed to do. Drowsily, he poked her face and too late he realized he touched a bit of the spit. He pulled his hand away quickly and he fell back on his bed frustrated. This was far too much effort for him. He just wanted to sleep again.

"Don't even think about visiting La la land again, mister." Beulah threatened almost throwing the tray on him. His wings flapped closed instinctively trying to cocoon himself from more attacks. Beulah tutted thinking he was trying to get back to sleep and positioned him in a way to hopefully get him a bit more awake. Fekitoa attempted to comply by lazily nibbling the only fruit he liked on the plate.

"Oh Miss Phoebe! Wake up I told ya he was gonna join the land of the living sooner than you thought! Come on get up!I even found some Wheatgrass I'm told is good for you!" She said laying a tray with far more options than just wheatgrass.

SepiaInk SepiaInk
 
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It was a familiar and welcoming smell that pulled Phoebe from the tight grasp of unconsciousness. Sweet, fresh and earthy, it wafted through the air and brushed the underside of her freckled nose, making it twitch and then flare so she could inhale as much of it as possible. Everything in her stirred in response, but it was her stomach that chose to make a statement, a grumble that started from its depths and ended in a whine that was at once annoying and painful.

With a groan, she raised her head and wiped the drool dribbling down her chin with her sleeve. Waking up shouldn’t be this hard, she thought, squinting her eyes at the harsh morning light. It was like someone had taken her brain away and stuffed nothing but cotton in its place. If this was how other species experienced sleep on a daily basis, then, good grief, she was actually glad to be a shapeshifter. A quick nap or two throughout the day was more than enough, thank you.

Beulah’s voice pierced through her head like a needle, too sharp and painful this early in the morning, and she didn’t bother stifling the moan that built up in her throat. She turned her head to side and blinked up at the familiar plump features of the older woman before letting her gaze drop onto the tray.

“I hate wheatgrass,” she mumbled, slurring her words and making a face at the offensive plant.

Beulah had something (a lot of things) to say in response to that, but Phoebe was not listening, too busy debating herself on whether it was better to sit up or just eat like this, half her body on top of the nice smelling sheets. But then she realised where that nice soft smell was actually coming from and she nearly fell back on her chair on her haste to push away from the bed.

“Fekitoa!” she gasped, staring wide eyed at the very much conscious harpy resting on the bed. “You’re awake,” she breathed out, voice drowning in relief.

“That’s what I told you not a minute ago, Miss Phoebe, but no one ever seems to listen to me in this house,” the woman huffed, crossing her arms and puffing out her chest, though the smile blooming on her lips sang a different tune. After saying something about having some chores to finish real quick but expecting to see the trays “clean as a whistle" when she came back, Beulah hurried out the bedroom door.

More than anything else, it was the awkward silence that followed that shook off whatever was left of Phoebe’s grogginess.

Not wanting to stretch it out any further, she coughed into her hand and wiped the rest of her face to make sure there wasn’t any drool left, feeling her ears heat up when she caught sight of the wet patch on the sheets where her head had been. Sighing, she saw that the harpy was already eating and decided to do the same, reaching for her tray to pick out one of the fords she’d seen in the garden, twirling the milkweed in her hand.

“How are you feeling, Fekitoa?” she asked in a softer tone, letting her eyes wander across his body, from his feet all the way up to his wings. Then, realising something, she snapped her eyes to lock gazes with him, questioning him further, “I am speaking to Fekitoa, not Kito, correct?”


 
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To say he was quite shocked she seemed happy to see him was an understatement. He stared at her, giving a quick nod to show he was indeed awake and took another bite of his apple. He wasn't sure what else to do.

When she spoke to him again, Fekitoa looked up at her mid-chew, glaring slightly, as if that was enough of an answer for her to realize it was indeed him and not the nervous Kito. He carried on with his breakfast, stopping only when he realized he wasn't fond of much else.

"Honestly less rubbish than I thought." He said, moving his feet and stretching his wings. Whatever pain he had experienced when he was last conscious was left as a memory.

"Thanks." He said cringing slightly for he was still not quite used to the word. And he he had been saying it far too much.

He had a few things he wanted to say. Like what had happened the latest two days he had been asleep, was it an inconvenience, was he in worse shape than he thought. But he left them lost at the tip of his tongue.

"And you? Okay?" He asked. Not a moment later Shelby came in, knocking on the open door before he entered.

"Everything okay?" Shelby mused watching Fekitoa slip a stray few grapes on Phoebe's plate. A dimpled grin spread over his aged face.

"Not a fan of grapes I take it?" He asked Fekitoa as a stray rolled onto the floor.

"No."

Shelby laughed.

"The Chosen of Semino; not a fan of his greens."

Fekitoa shook his head, gazing at the floor.

"Not a morning person? You seem a bit... different."

Fekitoa sighed deeply, he was actually wide awake at this point and was in an alright mood. Clearly still not peppy enough. He tried his best to smile, but it was merely blaring his teeth.

"No not at all. Just had a few nightmares. But I'll be okay in an hour." He said and his mouth twitched slightly.

Shelby raised his eyebrow.

"Alright, but no rush if you need to lie down for the rest of the day. We'll be just outside the room if you need us. Don't rush your recovery."

When he left the room, Fekitoa's twitching ceased and he looked over to Phoebe.

"We need to get your weapon and we can't delay. The sword heals me and I should be fine by the end of the trip. Also..." His voice trailed off.

"... I don't know how long I can pretend to be Kito so I would suggest we leave soon. Please." A tone of desperation in his voice.

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The hands resting on her lap gripped the hem of her tunic, nails digging deep into sweaty palms. Phoebe’s breath hitched and her eyes widened as that barest of trembles in the harpy’s voice triggered a memory, an old one, worn around the edges and collecting dust where it sat at the bottom of the pile. Like a reader, she brought it to life in her mind and saw herself, a young child pleading to her parents to go back home as she attempted to hide a pair of velvet covered bumps sprouting from her head.

The book snapped shut and, just like that, the memory was gone.

Phoebe’s eyelids fluttered as she blinked, furiously trying to swipe away the dust and cobwebs that remained.

“Yes,” she started, the word wavering as it left her lips before she managed to find her footing. “If you’re feeling well enough to leave, then I see no reason not to.”

Pushing the chair back, she stood up, hands moving to smooth out the wrinkles in her clothes.

“You don’t have to talk to them,” she assured him, locking their gazes. Her tone was secure yet somehow warm, like the feeling of being wrapped in a thick blanket, which surprised her enough that she had to look away for a moment. “I understand if you don’t feel like explaining that part of yourself to them at this moment. It’d be,” she stopped here to make a face, fingers unconsciously tugging at the silver streak in her hair, “tiresome, to say the least.”

There were more than a few questions floating around in Phoebe's head. Fekitoa’s inability to pose as Kito, even for a bit, and how uncomfortable he seemed with it, made her wonder once more wether or not the harpy had ever found himself in this type of situation before, if he had ever shared his condition with anyone outside of his family, someone close to him perhaps. She found it hard to believe that she was the first person, the first outsider that had noticed it and that he’d shared it with.

She kept all these questions to herself out of respect, but it was starting to dawn on her how little she still knew about this person and his peculiar condition, so she promised herself to make a bit more of an effort to change that as soon as they left.

After snatching up a couple of grapes from the tray for herself, she walked up to the bedroom door, stopping once she had her hand on the doorknob to glance over at her shoulder.

"I’ll tell them we’re ready to leave and pick up our belongings, you just rest here for a bit longer.”

And with that, and maybe the hint of a smile on her lips, Phoebe left the room and went to find Shelby and Beulah.


 
Fekitoa nodded, thankful Phoebe was helping him get out of this. Kito was far too kind and bubbly and positive to try to pull off well enough. While Phoebe was gone Fekitoa walked to the side of the bed and picked up the sword. Placing his cold hand over the warm stone he felt a pleasant rush of energy grow within him and the pain he was experiencing dulled gradually. Looking around the room and double checking his satchel he was sure he had not forgotten anything he had brought with or was given.

A moment later Rhett walked in.

"You's definitely a Chosen." Rhett said. Fekitoa's eyes creased together, but he bounced back realizing he was meant to be Kito in this situation.

"H-How so?" He asked not pleased with his forced stutter.

"How you looked when you got back I don't think I'd 've made it. And now you're ready to leave. Which will be in an hour probably. Ma is tryna pack snacks for the road." He said raising his hands into inverted commas, implying it was closer to a buffet for a tavern than a few snacks. With Kito's advice on how to act he tried to laugh with a smile, but it was as creepy as it was fake. Rhett looked a bit taken aback.

"I dunno what happened to ya in the trial. But I'm sure you'll be back to your old self in no time."

Fekitoa's wings slumped, his efforts were very much in vain.

"I doubt it, but thank you." He grumbled out miserable. Looking down at the sword he perked up a bit. "Listen I need something I can use to strap the sword. You got anything?"

Rhett hummed to himself thoughtfully.

"I'll have a look in the junk room. Might find some hidden treasures there." Fekitoa thanked him and went looking for Phoebe who was standing with a very tired looking Shelby.

"Beulah, these ain't Dragonkin! Between the two of em they eat as much as a pair of bloated rabbits!" He yelled into the kitchen. It appeared as though he had been banned from entering as his foot stomped impatiently and his arms were folded in an irritable tightness.

"Ah, Kito good to see you up and walking alright! Terrible to have you leave so soon, but then again a war ain't gonna wait for a couple scabs to fade."

Beulah's voice boomed back.

"Well Kito very nearly lost his life and he needs some nourishment and cheering up! Have you seen his face? Looks like the poor thang ain't ever gonna smile again! And are you suggesting these angels survive solely on the power of the sun? Good gracious Shelley use your head!" Fekitoa rolled his eyes to nobody in particular. Annoyed with the overabundance of hospitality to cheer him up into a different personality. She was most likely right, he wasn't entirely sure when he was going to smile again, but a few biscuits wouldn't make him magically grin.

Rhett couldn't have come at a better time.

"I found a worn leather satchel. It should hold the sword pretty well." Rhett handed it to Fekitoa. It was single strapped and had a few holes at the bottom of the bag. Placing the sword in it it tore the hole larger but the hilt refused to budge through. Slinging it over his shoulder he folded his wing around it concealing it from view. His hands would be out in the open, but he felt the sight was less threatening than a God's weapon. He checked with Nayeli if it was possible for her to be uncomfortable, but she assured him it was alright.

"Thank you." He said and Rhett nodded. Still eyeing him concerned. Fekitoa decided to leave it. They wouldn't be here much longer and he moved his way closer to Phoebe.

Beulah came barging in with three baskets filled full with sandwiches, fruit, vegetables, poultry and a few plants she had picked from every bush she could.

"This should keep you filled until your next stop!" She beamed shoving them in both partner's arms. Fekitoa looked between her and Phoebe.

"We can't this is too mu-"

"I won't hear of it!" Beulah stopped him, going so far as to shove a small hand in his face. "Yall are risking your lived trying to help us plain folk. The least we can do is make sure your journey is easier. I can only think how rough it's been so far you poor lambs." She said a tinge of sadness behind her worried voice. Fekitoa focused on the floor. He really hated help more than anything, but he hated arguing even more. Especially with mothers.

"Again thank you. For your hospitality and your help." He said nodding to all of them. Beulah stepped forward to hug him goodbye and he tried his best to stumble backwards out of it, but he wasn't quick enough. Standing tense as a statue he waited for her to finish. Not making eye contact with any of them. "I'll be waiting outside." He said to Phoebe and left without another word. Once he was out the front door the family turned their attention to Phoebe.

"The poor dear." Beulah tutted. "I can't imagine what he's seen that shook him so bad."

"Ma, he just got back from his trial. Maybe something spooked him. Right, Phoebe?" Beulah huffed.

"You're probably right, pumpkin." She said dejected, most likely still upset about the hug.

"Please take care of yourselves. And you know where to find us if you need any help." Shelby offered with his hand outstretched in a handshake. "Good luck out there, Miss Phoebe."

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Phoebe didn’t hesitate this time around. She slid her palm across Shelby’s much larger one, feeling the calluses and bumps on his skin, and grasped it, knowing the other would appreciate a firmer hold.

“Yes, thank you. For everything,” she said. The smile that bloomed on her lips came as easy as breathing, so it surprised her when her breath hitched and a lump began to grow in her throat. Her mouth twisted into a grimace and she was about to take a step back to compose herself when two arms and the strong scent of rich soil and wood suddenly engulfed her.

“I’m sorry, Miss Phoebe,” Shelby’s voice sounded above her head right after her body remembered to flinch, “Just thought you needed a hug there.” A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. "My wife must be rubbing off on me.”

Maybe it was the scent, the smell of home, or the strong, callused hold of someone who knows the forest well, or the voice, as deep and as clear as a lake beneath the moonlight. Maybe it was all or none of those things, but whatever it was, it made Phoebe forget where she was, her body going slack and mouth opening before the rational part of her mind could catch up.

“It’s alright, dad.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Phoebe’s eyes snapped open and she pushed against the hold. The blood rushed to her head so fast the world blurred for a second and she stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over her own feet. She’d never been so mortified. Her face could burn forests and her heart drummed in her ears, beating so loud she felt like everyone within a mile radius could surely hear it.

“I-I,” she stuttered, struggling to form words. Her eyes flew from one family member to another, the awful tight ball in her chest fuelled by the shock she saw in their faces, the way Beulah had her hands over her mouth.

“I’m sorry, I... What I meant to say was… It’s just that, you, I… The smell is… He was...” Her thoughts rushed, nothing was coming out right. After a few seconds of mumbling, hoping for an interruption that never came, she gave up. Eyes shut, she bowed down in a swift motion and mumbled some of the phrases she’d said a thousand times in her work and travels, “We’re grateful for all the help you gave us and hope to pay you back in kind in the future. We bid you farewell, until we meet again.”

Or at least she hoped that’s what it sounded like, she really couldn’t tell and didn’t stick around the see what effect it had. In seconds she had turned around, picked up the basket she’d laid down on the ground earlier and walked out the front door, her pace turning hasty as soon as she spotted Fekitoa standing a little ways out into the front yard.

His gaze met hers and the way he raised his eyebrow told her everything she needed to know about how much of a wreck her face must’ve been. The last thing she wanted was to stop and chat, so she threw caution to the wind and just grabbed his free arm, pulling him along to force him into motion. Ignoring his sounds of protests, Phoebe practically dragged the harpy all the way down the road, out of the town and into the forest.

Fekitoa let himself be pulled along for quite a while, but as soon as they found themselves surrounded by the stifling heat of the dense greenery, she felt him give a bit more resistance and then stop altogether. Phoebe still tried to get him to move again, tugging at his wrist, but the harpy had dug his heels in the ground and made it very clear he wouldn’t budge till she gave him some answers.

His voice sounded tense with frustration and Phoebe couldn’t really blame him. Still she refused to face him, head down as she let go of his wrist and stumbled forward, putting some distance between them. She needed an anchor and instinct made her reach out for one of the larger trees, but then the memory of what happened in the cave came rushing in and she caught herself. The urge to bite her fingers overwhelmed for a second but she forced herself to breathe in and cross her arms instead.

“It's,” she started, eyes darting across the crisscross of roots at the harpy’s feet, anything not to meet his gaze. But then she thought about her promise to communicate openly with the other Chosen. She thought about how better it would feel to just let all of these stressful thoughts out. Maybe if she just talked about it, it’d go away. Maybe she was just making a storm out of nothing. Maybe this was what she needed to calm down, since pushing it down was definitely not working.

“I called Shelby ‘dad’,” she confessed, probably a little too fast, but even though that horrible heat creeped up her neck once more, some of the stress did let up as soon as she spoke, so she kept going.

“We were saying our goodbyes, he hugged me and,” she groaned, rubbing her heated face, “Maybe it was the smell, or the voice, I don’t know, but I slipped and called him dad. Me! I called a grown man I don’t even know, dad. Honestly, what am I, a child?”

Phoebe was pacing now, pulling on the roots of her hair, the silver tint now spreading to cover almost half of her locks. Her fingers brushed over the small bumps growing at the top of her head and she let out another groan.

“It’s this place, all these plants, these trees, these flowers,” she motioned to all of these, glaring at them like they wished her harm, which, to be fair, was true for some of the life there.

“These familiar yet strange smells and the village filled with nice people, they made me feel like a child again.” Her shoulders slumped as she admitted it and it was only then that she finally let her eyes find Fekitoa’s, finding some comfort in those red jewels, so different from the forest. She’d always liked red.

“And now I can’t get them out of my head, my mom and dad. I haven’t thought about my parents for so long, so sure I’d done a good job of forgetting them. I thought time healed all wounds but this one still festers.” Her voice was soft but her smile wry. “Is this normal? For memories of people you don’t really know anymore to spring up like this? Shouldn’t they just wither and die?”

Her eyes started to sting but Phoebe refused to let a single tear fall. The silence that settled between them frightened her, threatening to force her to confront her own words. She drunk in the harpy’s expression and searched for something. A connection, maybe? A bridge.

“Fekitoa,” she hesitates, not sure about what kind of reaction this half of the harpy would have. But she needs to hear it, she needs him to say something. "I never asked about your father. Is he still around?”



 
Fekitoa followed after his partner in quick fashion, careful not to drop the baskets they had been so dearly given. He was not used to being dragged so eagerly by anyone and the whole thing was foreign to him, yet at the same time it was much simpler than he had previously thought to know when she was distressed. And this was definitely a moment of intense stress. Finally deciding enough was enough Fekitoa dug his feet into the ground and spread his wings as a sort of anchor dragging him back. To his advantage he was a good few inches taller than her and had a lot more weight. If he didn't want to move it wasn't happening any time soon.

"Alright this has gone on long enough. Either you get focused right now or... or..." His face soured at the thought. "Talk to me. Let me help." He said the last word with as much bitterness as though somebody had placed a spoonful of fish oil under his tongue. He hated giving it as much as he did receiving it, but he was trying.

To his surprise Phoebe actually spoke to him. Rambling and raving about what she had said to Shelby, her hands waved madly and her eyes darted dramatically between different trees, occasionally flicking to him to see if he was listening. It was amusing to say the least to see her worked up about something a teenager would worry over. To those with the greatest of eyesight they would be able to see a peculiar sight. Fekitoa's lips twitched ever-so-slightly, the ghostly hint of an almost smile playing on his features. A small smirk lost in angst and the immature taunt 'you called him, Dad" on the tip of his tongue. Yet as she spoke he understood only too well it was not as light-hearted as he had thought. The embarrassment on her flushed cheeks seemed to fade away into panic and into pain. Memories of a lost childhood clouding her eyes and those of her parents consuming her thoughts whole. He stepped forwards slowly, his wings creeping forward cautiously forgetting he had two hands to reach out.

"Silva, you're alright. It's an honest mistake you didn't mean it, you're alright." He said in a voice as gentle as he could muster. Phoebe stopped talking and there eyes locked, he stared back unsure what she was going to say next, but from her expression he could feel his heart drop into his stomach and an instinctive urge to defend kick in.

"I never asked about your father. Is he still around?”

Fekitoa's feather stood on edge, making him bigger than he appeared. He chewed on his cheeks to bite back his words and fight back his own past. It was easier said than done.

Young Fekitoa sat alone in the playground, a book in his one hand and the other tracing shapes in the dirt. His thoughts were lost in a land far away from where he lived and he hoped beyond hope some day he may see it. His book was knocked into his lap by a flying stone. He hadn't even realized it at first until another came flying and another and another.

"Haha, freaky Feki is so lonely he had to make up his own friend!" Sang a chorus of a few bullies, picking rocks with their talons and throwing them at him. Fekitoa raised his wings to shield him from his reality and bit back tears Kito wished to shed as he screamed back.

"No, I didn't!"

"Oh come on! You're own father left you didn't he? What happened to him, huh? We know it's your fault, Black Condor!"

Something froze in his quivering heart and chilled it to an odd calm. He looked up. Unsure if he heard right, but they said it. Over and over and far too much for Kito to bare and Fekitoa to tolerate. Snapping open his wings his book lay forgotten on the grass as he barreled towards them. Eyes flashing hot like coals as they flew away in fear.

"He didn't leave me! He protected me! But you guys don't care! You'll never care.!"

And older Fekitoa walked through the village he begrudgingly knew as home. He was walking with his arms folded beneath his wings not that it did him much good. But the comments were hushed and that was enough for him. However his ears always caught the very slightest hint of his father's name. And with that he would turn. Eyes burning with a liveliness he had long forgotten.

"My father is not gossip and my life is not nearly as interesting as you would hope for. But I understand the confusion since everything here is particularly dull. Now shut up and use your brain cells for something other than an unneeded icebreaker."

But that's what he was at this point. The talk of the area. The occasional time they showed him any sympathy was to ask about what really happened to him the day his father left. Only after the first dozen times he realized they didn't care what happened to him. They were trying to understand why his father didn't just leave him and save himself in the first place. The moment Fekitoa noticed that, his replies became shorter and glares longer. His own mother couldn't say his father's name without the wish he was still around. And he wouldn't lie.

Sometimes he wondered if she listened to gossip too.

Fekitoa's breathing steadied. His mouth twisted with the words he was so used to throwing out instinctively at the very implication of his father. His eyebrows creased and his expression twitched. Eventually his face fell, slack jawed and almost exhausted. His eyes rose to meet hers, they were glossy like that of bright shells at the bottom of a clear pool. His voice shook.

"My father died." That was it. That was all he could say. He couldn't bring up the explanation he had told a hundred times before. He just couldn't. Not now.

"We need to go to the boat." He said, eyes still locked on hers. "If you feel better we should walk now. We don't have time to waste." And with that he broke his stare and walked on ahead, wings wrapped tighter around his body than they had been in a long time.

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Phoebe whipped her body around and reached out for the harpy, but her fingers didn’t even graze his feathers. Her eyes fluttered and her mouth opened, but she chocked on the words. Letting her gaze fall to the ground, she pulled her hand back and hugged her waist tight.

“Yes, you’re right,” she whispered to the now empty space in front of her. Beneath low eyelids, the molten brown in her eyes had turned as hard and rough as a tree trunk, “We should go.”

Fekitoa was not ready to talk and maybe he never would, she needed to respect that. No matter how overwhelming it could feel, their pain was not the same, she understood that now. She tried to force a trade off when there was none to be made, and now she was left cold by her own carelessness. One more mistake, but one she could learn from, one that would have to lead to a different approach.

This was what went wrong the first time. Not closing herself off, but causing friction through a lack of understanding. It was all so clear now. The answer wasn’t making herself bare like this, hoping that it would magically make them closer and stronger, safer from the outside. No, never again, it only made things worse. She would find a better way.

After collecting her thoughts, Phoebe took a deep breath, centring herself just like Alma’s books taught her, then followed after Fekitoa. It was clear by how he held himself, wings tight around him like a cocoon of feathers, that there would be no more talking for the time being. That was alright though, she told herself with a soft smile tugging at her lips, instead making herself busy but aware enough by taking mental notes of the various species of plants she could spot on their way to the coast.

They made it back to the port just as the sun hit its highest point in the sky. Phoebe didn’t waste any time in taking charge and heading up to the crew of one of the smaller boats. From what she’d seen, she could guess that Fekitoa wouldn’t insist on doing the speaking himself, and that it would be in their best interest if he didn't. Not that she was much better, but she did have experience on her side.

The local sailors were kind enough to inform them about which boat would take them to the Island of Fraiku and at what hour, with only some of them giving them weird looks.

“The price ain’t gonna be cheap though,” a human one said, looking them up and down with his one good eye, “Only official, armed boats get’a travel there these days and security’s been tight. Probably because of all the weird things happening lately. Folks just don’t feel safe travelling no more…”

There was almost a threat behind his words, or maybe just a warning, she couldn’t tell which, and it sent a shiver up her spine, but she decided to ignore it. She asked where they could get those tickets and he pointed them at a ticket booth next to the pier. There was a line of people with heavy bags and other goods shouting, and indeed there were guards with official crests worn on their chests trying to calm the people down. They hand’t seen anything like this when they arrived here at the Island not even a couple of days ago.

Fekitoa proved to be an asset in that situation. People saw the tall harpy and either quieted down to whisper to each other or actually moved aside at his pressing and hard stare.

The woman in the booth was clearly used to the chaos, offering them no smiles or kind words as she questioned them on everything, personal and otherwise. Not wanting to spend another second surrounded by this many people, a sentiment she was sure the young harpy shared, she gave the woman in the booth all the documents they had to prove they were there on official business. This surprised her, and after checking with her colleagues and the guards, they agreed to give them tickets, but warned them that local food was no longer allowed in the boat. Phoebe was a bit hesitant to give what was essentially Beulah’s farewell gift to them, but was ultimately glad to leave the heavy weight behind.

After a tiresome hour or two of bureaucracy, and another hour of waiting on the dock, they had finally boarded the boat, minutes away from setting sail.

Fekitoa still looked lost in his own thoughts, but was definitely handling being on a swaying deck much better than Kito. It made Phoebe wonder if the two halves shared anything besides their body. Her fears had always been the same as her deer half, but then again, being a shapeshifter was not the same as having two different people in one body, no matter how much it felt that way sometimes.

“I can’t say I’m glad to be back on a boat again, but I’m not gonna miss the forest,” she shared out loud, glancing sideways to see if Fekitoa reacted in any way but not really hopping for an answer either.

She let her gaze then sweep the deck. Some of the passengers risked a glance or two in their direction, but quickly seemed to lose interest. The harpy was doing a good job of keeping the great sword hidden, and these passengers, a lot of them clearly Fraiku born and most of them merchants or people of higher status, seemed to have more important things on their minds.

“We’re going to Fraiku,” she whispered, the enormity of what lay ahead only then dawning on her. And yet she smiled, excitement bubbling up in her, “I wonder…”

She let that wish be carried away by the wind. Hearing the captain start to give commands to set sail, she picked up her hair and tied it back into a high ponytail, then untied the red sash from her waist. She let it flutter a bit in the salty wind, gazing at the beautiful golden dragon expertly sewed onto the fabric, with it’s long body that almost seemed to slither and soar through the air. She tied it back around her waist, tight as ever but now with the gold design on the outside, proudly shining in the sun.

“The Land of the Sun Dragon awaits.”

 
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