Further inland, just below the ever present and looming mountain range of Skagos grew thick, ancient forests populated by dozens of different species of evergreens or Weirwood which were centuries old. A distinct marker of this, being the dense population of weirwood trees bearing faces.

It is well known that the illusive children of the forest would only select the oldest of weirwoods to carve faces into. As such, it could be inferred that these great trees stretching into the looming ranges stood there for thousands of years, overseeing the endless march of time and history.

They withstood the harsh winds of winter, fierce storms and other natural disasters. These formidable green sentinels, stubbornly dug themselves into the rocky, ice-caked earth of Skagos, invincible against both the natural elements and man.

...Until they weren't.

Where these verdant behemoths of nature stood firm against the torments and challenges of nature and primitive Skagosi... they couldn't fare well against the invading force of the fire nation. Along the banks of a great river... unfrozen even in the years-long winter were abandoned wooden huts where river tribes once lived until recently. Where are they now?

At the roots of these great trees, armed with axes which were not of stone or rare bronze, but metal- steel to be precise.

They had only a single goal: bringing the millennia old trees down. To do so with the greatest ease and efficiency they weren't only equipped with axes in their arsenal, but massive, almost comical jagged-toothed saws, wrought iron wedges and hammers- all tools to aid the powerful skagosi in felling the great trees in numbers they wouldn't be able to before.

The smaller host of fire nationals did their part as well, be it the surveyors and their ilk who would make precise calculations as to how and where trees would fall or the other important administrative staff who would direct the masses, organize work shifts, maintain order, dispense food and payment.

It was the likes of which Skagos had never seen. Of course, wildlife was greatly affected, the birds and small critters who made these trees their homes where directly at risk.

Unfortunately for them, none of these great tresses were to be spared in this mass slaughter, except of course... the eerie Weirwood due to the reverence of the Skagosi and the decrees of the Fire nationals. As a result, the only creatures who would be surely spared from the machinations of man were those who relied on the Weirwood.

So it was no wonder a great owl, perched atop one of the Weirwood tree branches was able to remain within close proximity of the logging undisturbed.

The predatory avian was able to eat well in the past few days as the creatures it fed upon were displaced from their homes. However, the bird did much more than take advantage of the situation. It also observed the men below with a... unnatural severity.

Not that the working men would know. They were too busy hacking away at and dodging the falling corpses of trees or preparing them to be hauled away. They were much too busy to take note as the bird watched them while they slept in their camps at night and as they used various methods to transport the felled trees down to the riverbank, the bird watched.

It's large eyes scanning their tools and activities. In time the great bird of prey took flight and flew down the inclined forests, its large wings cloaked in brown, black and white feathers allowing it to silently soar above the great river where large barges were being stacked with plies of wood and sent down the river.

At some points where the banks of the river thickened all that could be seen atop the waters were the vessels of various sizes transporting felled logs downstream.

The bird followed this journey- taking note of how some of the larger barges were pulled not by the current of the river or men, but strange crafts of metal. These metal vessels which somehow floated atop the stream, lured the barges along with ease all while belching black ash and smoke into the air.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

In no time, the barges arrived at their destination, a strange place which could also be called a giant craft by itself. A veritable wooden fort with massive wheels which turned with the current of the river. It was there the bird landed. It would enter this great craft as the logs would be downloaded from the barges by yet again more Skagosi, loaded and hauled inside the fort by great and otherworldly beasts.

The bird watched from its perch atop one of the many wooden beams of the fort as the logs were sorted and sawed into smaller pieces by the foreign men, seemingly by magic. However, it was obvious to the bird that the strange saws were somehow powered by the turning wheels.

The creature left after some time to watch as the processed and treated beams, boards and laminated plies were again sorted, packed and sent down the river. However, not all the logs stopped at the wooden fort-craft. Some continued down the river, sometimes along with the freshly worked wood.

Eventually, the barges made their way to the coast where yet another fortress of crafts were. However, this fort was unlike the previous one. The air above this one was choked with thick black or white smoke and heat.

The bird couldn't get too close lest it wish to be caught in the choking plumes ascending to the sky. It would only take an unfortunate gust to engulf it. At time loud eruptions and explosions would shake even the flying avian to its hollow bones.

No... it wouldn't dare to land.

So, the bird took off, following the barges bearing the processed wood to the coast where an impossible settlement was caught in activity. It was like nothing the bird had ever seen.

Unlike most of its kind who stuck to the forestry, it had been all over Skagos and the surrounding islands, it witnessed the great fortified cave of Deepdown and perched atop the walls of kingshouse. This settlement was not at all like them. It had a certain order to it- with paved roads stretching about it from the craggy coast to the wooden walls hugging the ascending mountain range.

The bird saw black and white smoke rising into the air- nothing like the previous fort which mostly belched black smoke that dyed the snow before it even had a chance to touch the earth. This smoke was whiter and more subdued. It ascended from strangely built homes and constructs.

The bird watched as red clothed figures strolled through the settlement- thousands of them! It was as if a sizable settlement with a population similar to brokewight town and kingshouse castle had just sprung up on the island in a matter of moons... which it did.

The bird flapped its wings lightly but mostly rode the air currents; as it glided east to the coastline where the monstrous mounds of black metal vessels bobbed atop the choppy waves as if they didn't weigh thousand of stones. The bird eyed one particular vessel, unlike the others, this one was beached- clinging to the jagged shore of the island.

The bird could see small figures milling about constantly- some atop the beached vessel and some at its sides. From the bird's view, it looked as if ravenous ants were surrounding the carcass of a small critter. And similarly to ants, the figures seemed to be picking the thing to pieces. Though it could tell the ones actually on the vessel were red cloaked.

The bird didn't dare get too close- weary of whatever magic kept the other vessels afloat. But even from the distance it could still see well with its massive eyes.

The red garbed invaders used strange and familiar tools to dismantle the great vessel, these pieces would be loaded on a strange arm-like construct which hung in the air and could move from the vessel to the beach.

Through some magic, the invaders would use ropes and levers to make the construct lower the pieces on to either wagons or the ground, where they would they be surely hauled off to a ritual site by either the strange beasts of the invaders or the powerful Skagosi using wheel burrows. The bird screeched and rode the winds higher once again. This time heading inland to the west.

After almost a moon of staying away to watch the fire nation invaders it was time to return home. The large pupils of the great owl shifted slightly, in a subtle way on one wouldn't notice even if the bird was looking right at them.

(-)

Across the Skagsosi mountain range in the north west was a great stone fort which stood on a hill overlooking the western coasts. There were only three strongholds on the island of Skagos to correspond with the three noble houses and the three great regions within their dominion. The Magnars claimed all the lands of east of the great mountain range and ruled from Kingshouse.

The famed castle was constructed along the eastern shore, tucked away in a natural port. The Crowls of Deepdown ruled not from a castle but a fortified cave which opened from the south-western mountain ranges.

Which meant this simple stone fort belonged to the final Skagosi noble line: house Stane of driftwood hall. Deep within this fort sat a young girl in her middling teenage years- a young woman by Skagosi standards.

Sweat beaded atop her pale brow before running down into her dark eyebrows which channeled it away from her unnaturally milky, white- pupilless eyes to her temple.

With a great heave she gasped straightened- her brilliant emerald pupils suddenly appearing. The girl shuddered and gasped atop a stripped pelt of shadow cat origin.

"Lady Halga! Are ye alrigh'? Please m'lady, don't stonechange fer the rest o' the day! No more I say!" A wizened old woman grasped the girl's shoulder.

The girl- Halga nodded without any of her usual pushback which caused the old woman to have a dual expression of puzzlement and relief.

"Are ye ready ta tell me what all the fuss is about? Wot did ye see m'lady? Do the lobsters speak true? Are there fire ritualists in the north?" The shriveled old woman bombarded Halga with a load of questions as she handed the girl a warmed waterskin and rag, however Lady Halga didn't answer immediately, instead she took the waterskin and chugged it until it was empty.

"Aye." She said as she mopped up the sweat and spilled water from her face and neck.

"I've seen the fire ritualists and so much more."

Halga slowly stood up with the help of the old woman. As they limped from the chamber, the first men runic tattoos decorating her face tightened as she was locked in thought. She would have to tell father and have him assemble his elders and the chiefs in a great council to discuss her findings at length.