The Arkhis - over the ocean [https://i.ibb.co/5xV1wnL/The-Arkhis.jpg]

Girda was now recovering from this series of unworldly events. Breathing deeply, relieved that she was still alive, she was gazing at her two newborns sleeping peacefully. She should have been asking herself dozens of questions: What, why, how… But her thoughts were consumed by the twins, as if her whole brain had been formatted to take care of them. Her body was ready; ready to feed, to love and to protect. They were her children, and seemingly, hers only. The rest did not matter.

Girda had been content for years. She had worked hard to become an engineer at the wind farms, and worked even harder to marry the Eagle, prized surname of the Wind Raiders commander. His status as one of the four warchiefs and his fame as the youngest warrior to ever ride and tame a great sea eagle, an örnlai, had made him an ideal son-in-law. Each warchief controlled one region of the sky archipelago, while the High Chief ruled over all of them from Skudra, the mainland, a sixty four kilometers long and 30 kilometers wide flying island. Needless to say, many beautiful or rich hands were offered to him on the day he came of age. Yet what could beat names that formed a pair of ananyms ? Girda and Adrig had just known all along that they were fated for one another.

From her husband, Girda had two kids, a boy, Horuk Eagle-lad and a girl, Sara Eagle-lass. Six years separated Sara from the twins. Horuk towered over them at nine years old. He was taller than any child his age, and seemed destined to follow in his father's steps. He was already his pride. Sara however, had been blessed with an even greater gift.

Her senses were keen to magic. She even seemed attuned to the wind element and would find a prestigious place reserved for her at the high chief's court. At such a young age, no one could predict her potential, of course. But the premises of a great future had been found. It would take years, four, five maybe, before her body developed to a stage that would allow the study of the ancient arts.

As a former wind engineer herself, Girda knew precisely how valuable wind magicians were. When you lived on top of gravity defying drifting rocks, thousands of meters above the sea level, with and army of airships and drakes to raid the surface dwellers, fish into the oceans, or hunt the fearsome creatures of the skies, wind control was a precious mastery to behold. The court mages would accompany her husband on his hunts, they would visit the wind farms to power them on days of dead calm, and they would prevent storms from ravaging the whole chiefdom. The survival of the sky realm depended on only two factors: wind control and magnetic balance. Without the first, agriculture and navigation would not be reliable. Without the second one, gravity would bring their rocks back to the ground and shatter them to oblivion. Should this happen, a thousand years of sky dominion would come to an end in a matter of seconds.

With a population of almost one hundred thousand people in the entire sky realm of the Arkhis, and a ratio of one per two hundred, the number of magic attuned persons would approximate around five hundred at any given time. Two thirds of them were women.

Among them, only a few would actually become mages; every step of their formation required profound understanding and complex body changes. Fifty to one hundred at most would complete their training. Others would find a different path, as teachers, as healers, as scientists, as warriors or advisors. With such small numbers, mages formed an influential council charged with electing the next high chief among the current warchiefs. But on a more daily approach they led research, oversaw the economy and preserved the cultural legacy of the realm.

***

Since dawn, Adrig had deserted home. He rode his örnlai, carried by a gentle tailwind, drifting above a sea of sunlit clouds, seeking peace and calm in an attempt to clear his mind. He was born to fly. He felt safer here, in the realm of wind. But he was not running away. He was merely taking a long and inefficient detour on the way to Skudra. He knew he needed the profound knowledge of the council. Were his newborn children the spawns of a demon ? Were there records of such events ? All along, he avoided asking the real question : Were they his kids ?

As these inquiries finally faded, he caught sight of the five cloud piercing towers surrounding the hall of knowledge and its mesmerizing crystal vault. His legs gripped the back of the örnlai harder and he tightened the reins to prepare for a dive and landing. Once Adrig, a non magic attuned person, came in range of the wards and formations that shielded the site, he surely noticed the first of their powerful effects...

Perched on the highest plateau of the Skudra mountain range, the Seatac, name of the magic council siege, was assaulted day by day by gales and windstorms. Under the protection of its five towers arrangement, the winds crashed into an invisible wall, and only a breeze of fresh air ran through the domain. Records told about a construction that lasted almost fifty years. Stone blocks veined with manalite served as the base for the wards. Each of these slabs were carefully positioned to follow a complex pattern. Ordinary limestones made up for the rest of walls, buttresses and ornamented facades.

Familiar to the mystical ambiance of this remote place, Adrig dismounted, set his goggles on top of his head, walked past the gardens, returned a couple of nods as people recognised him here and there, and crossed through the gates of the main hall before heading to the second floor. There, on the balcony that oversaw the humongous library, he waited. For a long time. Three hours, maybe more. At least, enough time to count all the bookstacks that stood in an orderly setting. “Damn, why did I make such a long detour this morning ?” he thought to himself.

The door to a lecture room opened, a school of youths rushed out in a chaotic mess. Against the current, Adrig came into the room and spotted an elderly figure at the other end. “Uncle, I seek knowledge !” he exclaimed with anticipation.

“Knowledge, you ?” wondered the old man in a short and crisp laugh. An amused but sincere smile barred his wrinkled cheeks.

“Something happened to Girda…” he paused for an instant. “She gave birth last night."

Old Jerd, as his students nicknamed him, froze, then burst into laughter. A pure, juvenile and high pitched laugh that resonated in the now empty room. “Young chief, you flew from Yvaga just to jest with a gray-haired man ?“ he asked.

Adrig started relaying the events as they had unfolded, and by the end of the story, Jerd could not decide how seriously he should take them. Unlikely. Unexpected. Unusual. Something beginning with ‘un’. Unnatural would apply best. It sounded like the watered down version parents tended to give to a child curious about his birth. Babies did not pop in the womb out of nowhere. Women did not suddenly decide to deliver an unconceived child by themselves. However many reasons he had to doubt, the situation was too curious, funny and yet dire, to not awaken his curiosity.

One by one, Jerd called his colleagues in the room to share the tale. Prominent researchers and teachers of the magic council followed each other to study the case. While it soon grew to a contest of knowledge, science and logic in the high spheres of the council, the tale also became the favorite talk of the common folks for a while.

If people might have tried discarding it as a fantasy at first, there were too many witnesses to attest to its veracity. Girda had attended the village ball at Gruntoft a week prior to the events, and had been working at the wind farms when her belly had started inflating. And the people involved, a chief, his wife, they were simply just too respected to be doubted. Be it as it may, no one could come up with a rational explanation for this event, so people agreed that it was gods’ will.

In this isolated kingdom a few thousand meters above the earth, so close from the stars, the Sun, the Moonlings and the great Diwès, religion played a discrete but omnipresent part. In this Age, most religions were inherited from the remains of the Hyverian Empire. As such, it was common belief that gods created the world and guided its fate and that their influence could be observed in the shape of unexpected and unexplainable events. Many thought that they still lived in an immense domain in Diwès, around which Mundus and all of its six siblings, the Moonlings, rotated. Hence they took Diwès for the center of their universe.

How clueless they truly were would not affect our story however.

In the days and months that followed, the rumors died slowly and seemed to have been forgotten. A high priest cheated on his wife, the Arkhis passed over the dead sea, an airship crashed in an unusual storm, wars ravaged the land below and life continued.

The kids ? Maybe they were different. Maybe not. They just slept and fed for a whole year. They grew fast. After twelve months, the boy already weighed nine and a half kilograms and the girl ten. By that age they should have started speaking a few words or learning how to roll, yet they didn’t show half as many signs of activity as a larva.

***

"I am more tired than a teenager. I sleep more than a cat. How long has it been ?" Brad could not recall much of last year. In fact, he had no idea that a whole year had passed like a shooting star. Well, most of it he spent sleeping and dreaming anyway. Memories of his mom - his real mom, the first one - never stopped coming back to him in his reveries, as if he hoped to cling faithfully onto her souvenir forever. He missed that all. His sister, his home room, his rented room, and Dynamite… his adopted kitten.

Nonetheless, deep inside, he believed that everything happened for a reason. He also believed that if his situation turned dire he might manage to find a way to come back to Earth… But not through the toilets this time.

He thought initially that this rebirth could be an opportunity to shine in a new environment, to learn the language of his new family early on, and to stand before them as a genius baby. In short, to forge a path to his epic tale. Instead it turned out to be a complete disillusion. In a state of constant drowsiness, he had trouble concentrating on anything more than thirty seconds. His teeth inflicted on him a stabbing pain as they slowly pierced through the gum. And he had mastered the art of crying, cooing or gurgling to get his food, only because his belly could never be filled. He felt emptier than an ogre on hunger strike for three weeks. His small intestine rumbled from dawn to dusk to dawn again. It was a miracle already that his mom managed to feed these voracious twins by herself for a few weeks. Still, a nurse joined the fray quickly on.

On the day of his seemingly first birthday; information he had gleaned at the view of a single candle lit at the foot of his and his sister’s bassinettes; a family reunion took place in the great room. As he reviewed his progress, one weird thought made him proud. He had managed to push back and control a sudden desire to relieve himself. A victorious grin spread across his face as he laughed and exclaimed in an enthusiastic voice : “Putak !” It was a word he had heard his new dad muster a few times.

A table of twelve dined in the Eagle mansion. Jahik, the eldest, presided over the small family gathering. Next to him sat the hosts, his son, Adrig, his daughter in law, Girda. Among the many rumors that had spread around, questioning the paternity of the children and their ascendancy, some had ended up reaching his old ears. Hence, during dinner, Jahik kept going on and on about how the twins bore the strength and dignity of their grandfather. They would be built like giants, taller than even their father, just like himself. They bore his long hawkish nose, or so he claimed. As he continued on his tirade, a young cheerful voice suddenly proclaimed a most profane and obscene insult. “Putak !"

The room fell silent. Twelve pairs of incredulous eyes drifted towards a forgotten corner of the room where the cribs sat. Standing upright in his, a baby fist raised in victory, was Elifer.

“What an entrance !” chuckled a sly and tiny woman facing Jahik at the other end of the table. Her gray hair short, bundled at the nape around an elegant ribbon, her cheeks wrinkled by scars of happy days, Simedian pearls threaded in a necklace that she wore grandly, Eilwine seemed eager to jump early in her sixties. “I wonder who taught them so well," she added, feigning surprise. She turned towards her husband and asked ”Did he get that from you too ? What other achievements did you hide from us ?”

“I … Of course not Eil’," Jahik punctuated his answer with a discreet throat clearing that echoed through the hall. “He might have heard it from his nurse for all I know !”

While the two continued arguing like the old couple they formed, Girda walked to Elifer and picked the baby in her arms. Her embrace was warm, her eyes strangely expectant. Elifer, one year old that day, looked and weighed the same as a normal toddler, yet so far, neither he nor his sister had not shown much vivacity, at an age when kids normally demonstrated basic signs of cognitive, physical, social and communication development.

The intrigued yet relieved look on uncle Jerd’s face as he observed the scene, underlined the issues at stake. None had dared voicing their worries. Whatever was going on with these kids, the path ahead had seemed gloomy. But hearing a word coming from his mouth, however indecent it was, erased all their concerns.

Anyway, he had checked for issues in their bodies before, but he might as well do it again. He placed his palms on the wooden table, slightly sliding on the beveled edges. Eyelids half closed, his chest rising as he breathed in, he awoke the dormant mana flowing through his veins. He breathed out, lifted a single finger in the child’s direction. A gentle current flew out, passing through the room and bouncing against the child and mom’s bodies. Just like a normal breeze meeting an obstacle.

“Nothing … unusual ...” His eyes opened, he stroked his beard, and met the curious gaze of his sister, Eilwine. She had stopped quarreling with her husband by now. She gave him a simple nod. She too had checked. No magic at stake here. No physical issues. Just a normal child.

Girda took her seat, carrying her son gently. “Elifer, that’s not a nice thing to say !” She looked at his round eyes, they shone with curiosity, or so she thought. She failed to see the hint of malice that lurked in them.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Repeat after me Elifer — mama, mama."

The kid focused hard. He answered slowly: “mameu — ma ?”

“Oh you’re such a smart boy”

“What a sweet thing,” Eilwine added.

“And who’s that Elifer ?” She pointed at Adrig. “Dada, repeat, dada, dada."

“Dad dad ad aeu?” It sounded almost right. Elifer complimented himself inwardly. He was onto something here. The delighted glow on mama’s face told the tale of his success.

“And what about you Elifer ?” asked Girda as she gestured towards him. “Eli — fer, is that your name ?”

“Fer." He nodded once under the amazed gazes that fell on him.

“Isn’t he a genius !” scoffed Jahik. He bent over his grandson and quizzed with anticipation: “Do you know who this handsome old man is ? Jahik, Ja — hik, can you say it ?”

Elifer seemed scared at the view of his grandad. Maybe it was the long scar running on his wrinkled forehead. Maybe it was the domineering and demanding presence that loomed over the one year old. The man stood in the higher range of human measurements. In height, in weight, and of course, in charisma. Or was it self-admiration ?

“Putak !” Elifer exclaimed in haste as he panicked.

“You little rascal !”

The table of twelve laughed merrily. Toruk, his elder brother, seemed to particularly enjoy the scene. Sara on the other hand, probably did not understand much of it. She still laughed with all her heart.

***

The days, weeks and months that followed were filled with renewed hope in the family. ‘Little Fer’ as his elder brother called him, showed good signs of curiosity or learning, almost starting to match the standards of a child his age.

Sure, he did not need to experiment and learn of the first mysteries that a child is confronted with. Why be curious that a dropped item falls when you already know of gravity ? Concepts like emotions, geometry, self awareness, needed to be understood only once. Had he known how to pronounce the numbers, he would already have been able to multiply them, obviously. But he had to learn the words. The most frustrating part for him was not understanding much of the language. And the progress was slow.

He often wondered how he had learned English, his native tongue, in the first place. Learning French had taken him years. Oh the pain, the hours, the teachers' admonitions. That, he remembered. English ? He had no clue. And Skýling ? It was an entirely different kettle of fish.

Because it just had nothing in common with anything he had ever known.

A while back he had confirmed something he had always suspected. Wherever he had ended up, was not on Earth. If the bright Sun shining above a blue sky had no reason to alert him, the Moon on the other end, no longer existed. In its place, a giant planet, seven times bigger than the white rock he knew. Other astral bodies out there had also appeared in the sky a few times. They were close, or huge. Two of them seemed to take a similar size in the sky as Earth's Moon did in his waning memories. He was not so sure, over the past year, they only appeared a couple times. Another, a light blue one, had stayed three months in the sky before disappearing. It fascinated him, and he truly wondered how it all worked. Who revolved around whom ?

***

His twin sister, young Aljana, was in concomitant dispositions. She had started to bloom a week after her brother. Her serious, dour face never showed the hint of a smile. Yet from walking to talking she did practically everything better than him.

In truth Aljana was just as lost as Elifer. Trying to figure out what had happened to her, struggling to learn a language that vaguely felt connected to the imperial tongue, attempting to determine where she had landed, and when… Seeking answers was of course just the first step of her plans. The fate of this world depended on it. She would either rake it from north to south, west to east, back and forth, until she reunited with her family; or burn it to the ground, until the god that sent her here and broke their deal, dared to appear before her. He would then abide by the oath or die by her hand. Such were the thoughts that drove a toddler in the early days of her life.

***

The twins did not leave home often. And when they did, they never left the vicinity of Wyndal, the small town where they lived. They occupied the largest mansion, a manor on the outskirts of the settlement. Its most impressive asset was a two stories high longhouse, built mostly with stones and timber. Its roof consisted of wooden planks assembled around a large beam, in a round shape that resembled the hull of a ship. This main house served as a banquet hall and was flanked by two smaller perpendicular dwellings, giving it the shape of an ‘ɪ’. A proper warchief home.

The town had no walls to protect it, and from its peaceful look, probably never needed any. It spread around a serpent-like river on an indefensible position, a sunken ground, surrounded by forests and farms. To the west, mountains tore the sky with their white peaks. In the north, had the kid been tall enough, they would have caught sight of an impenetrable fortress. There rested the only permanent armed garrison of the Arkhis. Under the joint command of the high chief and Adrig himself, the Wind Raiders watched over the sky realm, ready to plunge on their prey, the world below.

At around twenty four months old, Aljana could speak in two or three word sentences, but rarely talked or engaged in social interactions. However, she was rather keen on walking around the house whenever the parents or nurse lowered their vigilance, looking for clues on her location or foraging food for her forever rumbling stomach. She had explored most of her new home, climbing stairs, walking and jumping around like a real toddler.

On the second floor, in a kind of dressing-room, she had stumbled upon a mysterious object. Well, if it would have mesmerized any curious child, a grown adult knew pretty well what purpose it served. Nonetheless, she was drawn to this place day after day, irremediably.

She stayed there, looking into that treasure, her gaze absorbed by the image of the person inside of it. It almost felt like her daughter was there, trapped inside this piece of glass, framed and leaning against a cold stone wall; looking back at her. Everything Aljana stood for, everything she was, everything held because of that little girl. As time passed she could feel some less important memories of her previous life crumble into forgetfulness. She even had trouble remembering events of the past year. As if her small head could not get a grasp of everything, could not hold onto every souvenir.

She knew; that the girl in there looked more like herself, and less like her daughter. Everyday that difference grew a bit more, and yet everyday, she forgot a bit more of that difference. Once, she had even spent a whole hour there, reminding herself of that past, of that life that was stolen from her.

Aljana was watching the little girl moving her hand closer, as her own hand brushed past the surface of the item.

“Wait for me," she whispered.

A shadow then appeared, a two years old looking boy stepped into the image, approaching the little girl as he stumbled into the room. It was that clingy boy again...

“What this ?” inquired Elifer as he pointed towards her treasure.

“That’s me, idiot," she mocked.

“The thing... word," he added as he shook his head.

“Mirror," said Aljana.

“Mirror," he acknowledged. Another word he kept forgetting and trying to assimilate.

He had been in this room before. He too had spent some time looking at his reflection. He was just content that it looked like every picture of him he had ever seen. From the color of his eyes to his skin tone, it matched with his previous self. He liked what he saw in that glass, but he never was the kind to spend time admiring himself.

“You know use ?” she asked.

“Yes, know mirror," he nodded, and marked a pause.

“Help, food," he then requested with an embarrassed smirk. His hands caressed his belly. “Eat ?”

Aljana had found the perfect trick to gather some extra food. They would sneak in the pantry, she would climb on his shoulder and grab anything that she could from the wall cupboards. They would then share half of it, go separate ways and eat stealthily, before going back to sleep. Not elaborate; very efficient.

***

By the time they reached the four year milestone, they had already grown enough to be taken on walks with Girda, far out of town. There was one such occasion that truly brought changes. Early in the morning, the whole family had left with just a few bags of water and provisions.

They traveled East, following the course of the Ormyr. The river took its source in the western mountains, and achieved its largest width about two kilometers before reaching their hometown. Toruk led the march while Adrig brought up the rear, walking by a donkey-like creature capped with a lion mane. It took more after the equine than the feline though. It was a brave and sweet old beast, perfect for carrying bags or kids. The beast had a name, ‘Donleon’.

The family of six walked for four or five hours, covering a distance of around nine kilometers in that time. Considering there were two young children, it was not too bad. As they climbed yet another hill, an otherworldly landscape came into sight.

Down there, on the other side of the hill, in a small charming valley covered in green grass, white sheeps, blue rocks and two wooden windmills; the river ended its long journey, flowing into its final destination... The raging waters of the Ormyr first gathered into a small lake at the beginning of the valley, before resuming their course and forming a massive waterfall that emptied itself into the blue sky. There was no sea, no ocean, no ground, just clouds below...

“How high in the mountains are we ?” Elifer asked himself, mind blown. “Hence the mists. Hence the cold. Hence the pure fresh air. We must be living on a large and high mountain plateau."

They reached the lake soon after, passing by a farm on the southern bank. The people that lived in it were shepherds … and engineers. The two windmills, located at the edge of the lake, controlled a water dam. It most likely served as a reservoir for the whole region. Two old men sat on a bench, waving at them with their canes. A sheepdog rushed towards the newcomers, barking and cheerfully welcoming them. It had a long tan fur, a muscular body, conic ears and muzzle, and a fluffy tail curled over its back.

With the dog now proudly trotting at the front, they continued onto the path. It led to the edge of the land, above the chute. The water had first dug a dip into the ground, forming in fact a succession of two cascades, as if taking a timid first step before its true leap of faith.

They settled on the cliffs surrounding the basin, in between the two falls, where the view was most exquisite. A hundred meters long rainbow spanned over the pool, so clear, so real, that it looked almost touchable. Just under it, as water crashed and twirled, a perpetual deafening roar echoed. The wind blew strong, crashing against cliffs and layering the grass in a relentless succession of waves. In many ways, it was breathtaking. At that time, even Aljana and Elifer, with the experiences of two short lives, felt insignificant compared to the greatness of nature.

Adrig took the girl on his shoulders, a surprisingly embarrassing situation for her, and pointed at the six colored arc in the sky: “Do you see the rainbow Aljana ?”

“Yes," She complied.

“Do you know how it formed ?”

“No," She said. Yes, she thought.

Adrig proceeded to narrating the story, somewhat roughly in the words that follow (note that some parts may have been lost in translation, and that the kids did not have yet a full mastery of the language):

‘In the time of the first Skýlings, when the Arkhis were mostly desert and Yvaga divided, two families of opposing clans lived on the banks of the waterfall. On the northern bank, the Hardruks' lands spread up to the forest. They had herds of sheep, that their son, Hargrim, guarded by the river.

On radiant sunny days, when the mist would retreat to the forests, he could glimpse at the pretty Mira on the other side of the fall. Like him, the daughter of the Valaks clan watched over her herd of cows. They would exchange words, howling words against a wind that often refused to convey them.

One day, the beauty yelled that she would marry Hargrim, if he crossed the waterfall. Sources and versions differ on who asked whom first, and how it came to be that a young man managed to cross the widest cascade of Yvaga, but cross he did.

They married each other and their wedding saw the birth of an eternal rainbow above the water as the sky rejoiced with them.’

Funny enough, Elifer had heard a similar story, on a journey to Iceland. Aljana on the other hand felt like cringing. She played it cute, and threw an amazed smile at the father. At least he deserved one for trying. These last weeks he had been more present at home. He would sometimes be kept weeks away from home, but work must have been grinding to a halt, for he had taken a newfound interest in this role as a father.

They sat in the grass for lunch. Girda held her young children’s hands the whole time, making sure they would not wander to the edge. To Elifer, she also served as a welcome shield against his elder brother and sister’s attempts to mess with his hair, when they were not chasing after the dog...

Later on, she took the twins to the cliff.

“This is the edge of our world." She spoke in a low voice. “You are Skýlings born. One day maybe, you will ride into the vast sky, and hunt in the realms below, just like your father." The clouds had scattered over lunch. They now had a full view on a turquoise sea sprinkled with islets and reefs, two thousand meters under their feet.

If they had grasped that much already (at least Aljana had); to be confronted with the actual evidence that they lived on a giant rock, floating a mile above the ground, made a significant impact on them.

Elifer's arms started shaking uncontrollably. His chest froze as he struggled to breathe, his grip tightened around his mom’s hand. He stepped back. His mind was already picturing a dozen different scenarios where he, and anyone around, ended up falling down. Of course, he had a fear of heights.

Aljana’s brain was working full steam ahead. She knew where she was. She had been reborn on these mysterious floating islands that appeared over the empire every few years. She was one of the sky raiders now, a bunch of barbarians, rascals and uncivilized pagans. They rode drakes and plundered small villages, stealing what they could from the weak before retreating to the protection of their flying kingdom. In her time, Emperor Kall Barag II had planned to build a fleet of flying ships to end the pirates' threat. Engineers and researchers had made outstanding breakthroughs. She had seen the first prototypes. Had they succeeded ? How come these raiders’ language had so many words and tones in common with the hyverian tongue ?

As she pondered these questions, Elifer had fallen on his butt. There, so close to the ground, he saw three large eggs lying at the edge of the cliff, half hidden under a tuft of grass. Thinking with his stomach, he grabbed one of them and raised his trophy as high as he could for everyone to see.

His proud smile contrasted with his mom’s shocked face. She threw a worried look in Adrig’s direction. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

In the seconds that followed, a flock of seabirds came into view. Squealing and screeching as they flew overhead. They started a threatening dance above the family. They turned around them, nosing down, and up, in waves, getting closer and closer at each assault, moving in sync like a whole being.

Girda and Adrig caught the youngest kids, yelled at the older ones, and ran as fast as they could. From up close, the birds looked meaner and much bigger than Aljana thought initially. With large pale lavender gray feathered bodies the length of a cat, a wingspan twice as wide, a sharp red beak mounted on a black head, she recognized them as arctic mewens, dangerous seabirds that became aggressive when threatened. Their natural fear of humans diminished as their numbers grew. In their territory, they would fight back any threat beak and claw.

Fortunately, help came in the form of a brave doggy. The shepherd's dog was no stranger to the birds, and he displayed the might of his throat, barking at them with all he had. Little did it help...

The group of six humans appeared in view of the farm; preceded by brave Donleon, succeeded by a furred companion, and chased by the swarm of birds screaming at them. As they sought refuge in a small barn, they all burst into laughter, letting go of a mix of fear, humiliation and self derision, much to the amusement of the two old men still firmly seated on their bench.

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