Milo and Bird looked around in all directions as they wandered through the forest. Left, right, up, and down they searched, but not a trace of the bird’s mom did they find. Surely it should have been an easier task than this to find a giant prismatic bird.

Milo sighed.

“Bird, can you try screaming again?”

The pink blob in his shirt let out another piercing cry that echoed through the woods.

They waited. And listened.

Milo sighed again.

“Still nothing. That was a very good scream, though. You’re definitely getting better,” he lightly patted Bird’s head with a finger.

It gave a small chirp in reply.

The pair continued on.

A quarter hour passed before Milo found something that looked like it might be useful. He slowed his steps as he approached a rotting log lying on the forest floor.

Chirp?

“I think we might have solved your food problem. Maybe,” Milo said, looking at the wiggly activity both on top of and inside the hollowed remains of a once great oak tree.

The boy reached over and gingerly plucked a grub from the wooden husk. A burst of wiggles rippled out from the log as all manner of things crawled away to safety. Milo shivered a little.

“Okay, Bird. I think you can eat this?” Milo said, not entirely certain.

Bird looked up and started opening and closing its beak. Milo lowered the grub slowly into its mouth.

When Bird felt the thick, squishy texture of the live creature in its beak, it immediately lost interest in eating. Bird looked at the grub, then at Milo.

Chirp.

“...”

Chirp.

“...There’s no way.”

Chirp.

Milo looked at the bird and then at the grub.

“You owe me an eternal debt of gratitude for this.”

Chirp chirp.

Milo closed his eyes tight and, with great trepidation, slowly lowered the squiggling mass into his mouth. He bit the grub in half. He chewed it into paste. He did his best to ignore the flavour that filled his mouth. Milo pulled the Bird bundle out of his shirt and started drip feeding liquified grub into its open beak. Half of the pulverized meal spilled onto Bird’s body and the cloth sac before Milo managed to correct his aim and dribble it into the right destination.

Bird swallowed and looked at Milo.

…

Milo looked back at Bird.

…

“I’ve never tried that before, you can’t expect me to be good at it,” the boy grumbled. “Now open up, the other half is coming.”

—

“Did you really?” Young Lady looked shocked.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Milo grimaced.

“All for the sake of going on a boat,” she sighed.

Not-A-Knight maintained a solemn silence borne of respect.

Gu chuckled.

Young Lady was suddenly reminded, “Wait. That wasn’t even part of your three tasks, was it?”

Horse snorted.

Milo’s face turned black, “Anyways back to the story.”

—

The boy stuffed his face with all the plants that he had foraged earlier. And while this did manage to purge the flavour from his taste buds, the memory was seared into the very essence of his mind. Nevertheless, they continued deeper into the forest, drawing ever near to the heart of the woods.

Dancing lights and beings of fancy started emerging from the woods as the duo got closer to the center; both monsters and spirits alike poked their heads out to watch the boy and the bird stroll past. It was a beautiful sight, seeing so many unique and wondrous creatures of the forest appear one by one. Milo felt like a procession was welcoming them home.

Wisps of every colour imaginable gathered around Milo and circled around him with curiosity. They orbited the boy in a chaotic tapestry of intersecting paths that somehow managed to never collide despite their random patterns. As if some force prevented them from touching, the luminescent sprites weaved between each other in harmony.

Blobs rolled out from their homes atop mushrooms and under trees to follow along. Some bounced. Some rolled. The three little dots on their faces reminded Milo of the very first friend he made in the castle. He wondered if they knew each other, but had no way to ask.

Six-legged lizards with feathered wings jumped from tree to tree. Giant mushrooms deflated, shook violently, and then – with a pop – reploofed with an extra arm to wave at the duo as they passed by. Earth spirits poked their heads out of the ground and then disappeared with a start. Trees leaned towards the path and shook their leaves. A pack of three-eyed wolves silently emerged from the treeline and fell into step behind the boy.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Similar scenes of fancy greeted Milo and Bird all the way until they reached the edge of the woods. Then, one by one, as the wide circular clearing came into view, the procession of creatures slowed down to a halt. They gathered around the edge of the trees and waited. Watched. But they did not trespass, for they were not allowed.

Young Milo, unaware of the rules of the forest, walked into its heart without concern.

A wide stream – about ten-feet from bank to bank – encircled the mass of land supporting a single gargantuan tree in the center of the forest. Its emerald leaves pierced the sky, and its thick roots dug deep into the earth. An arched bridge of moss and flowers ran atop one section of the stream, connecting the central mound to the rest of the clearing. Milo approached it with both hands cupped around Bird.

Spirits waved from the stream, grass fairies flitted from blossom to blossom, rocks sparkled as Milo walked past. The entire scene was breathtaking. The most enchanting parts of nature and whimsy were all gathered here in one place.

As he neared the tree, Milo saw countless bony white circles lined up in orderly fashion along the base of the tree. Death’s deceit. The boy sensed that his first task was coming to an end.

He gently patted Bird’s head with a finger.

“It’s time to cry out again. I get the feeling it will work this time,” Milo said with a smile.

Chirp.

Bird looked up at the boy, then puffed its chest and let out its most clear, most piercing cry yet. The sound shook the firmament and echoed across the land.

The entire forest froze.

Darkness.

An enormous pair of wings blotted out the sky, casting an incomprehensible shadow over the entire clearing and the woods beyond.

Whoosh.

A gust of wind swept through the field of grass and flowers, starting from the lone tree in the center and spreading outwards to the furthest reaches of the forest. All the spirits hid. Only their eyes were visible as they watched to see what the Queen of the Northern Forest would do.

The light came back as quickly as it disappeared, but everything now stood still. The entire forest held its breath.

Milo blinked, and when he opened his eyes, there was suddenly a massive bird in front of him. Its feathers shone with every colour. No two places on its entire body shared the same shade. Its tail feathers were breathtaking. A collection of masterpieces, each spanning over two dozen feet long. Elegant, graceful, sculpted by the most meticulous hand in the world. A million iridescent hues swirled and mingled with each other in perfect harmony.

The bird’s mouth was a black expanse larger than Milo’s entire body, and it was wide open, ready to swallow the boy in a moment’s notice. It smelt of lavenders and jasmine – of spring breeze and blossom. Milo thought that if he were to be eaten, there would be no way more beautiful than this.

The open beak drew closer and closer. Soon, Milo’s entire view was filled with nothing but the darkness of the void.

Chirp.

The gaping maw halted right before reaching Milo, then pulled back and closed shut. The massive bird stepped away and regarded the boy, head tilted to the side.

Milo held out Bird with both hands and offered it up to the creature.

Birdmom blinked. She looked at the dried grub paste on the cloth bag, at Bird, then at Milo. She tilted her head to the other side.

“Look, that’s not important,” Milo protested weakly.

Ignoring the boy, Birdmom drew herself up to full height, pointed her head to the sky, and let out a single resounding cry. It was unforgettable. Imprinted so deeply into Milo’s soul that it would never fade even if nine lifetimes went past.

The crystalline chime resonated through the entire forest – a single note that encompassed the chorus of every creature within. A song of life and death. Of new birth from destruction. Of darkness giving way to light. A cry so profoundly beautiful that no description could serve it justice, but still Milo tried, for the experience had changed him forever.

All across the northern forest, the spirits of water and land emerged from their hidden homes. The monsters crawled out of their dens. The birds perched atop branches. The insects stilled. The trees swayed. A gentle breeze blew. Together, everything in the forest turned towards the heart and bowed.

Bird struggled in Milo’s hand, then turned to face him and bowed. Birdmom took a step back and bowed as well. Her long tail feathers danced an elaborate dance in the air and settled on the ground like a monarch train.

Milo felt a warmth surging in his chest.

Something otherworldly had just occurred and, though he lacked the words to describe it, he instinctively understood that the forest was waiting – waiting for him to decide how the debt of gratitude would be repaid.

“All I need is a death’s deceit,” Milo said.

Birdmom turned her head and plucked one from the base of the tree. Her enormous frame belied the grace and precision expressed in each movement. She dropped the fungus on Milo’s hand and continued to watch him.

Though she didn’t make a sound, Milo seemed to understand her meaning.

You may have this, but the favour is not enough.

Milo showed her the egg shell that he took from Bird’s place of birth.

The queen gently tapped his chest with a wing.

This is already yours. It cannot be gifted to you.

“In that case, there’s really nothing that I need,” Milo said. “Perhaps something to give a water spirit from the creek?”

A small blue pebble rolled out of the stream and bumped against Milo’s foot. It shone under the light of the sun and sparkled at him. He picked it up with a smile. The cool, smooth surface of the stone whispered of the vibrancy of life and the serenity of water. Milo knew that this would be the perfect gift for his friend.

The queen continued to look at him.

Still, the favour is not balanced.

Milo laid down on the grass and watched the swaying emerald sea above. No matter how hard he thought, nothing came to mind.

“Really, there’s nothing else that I need,” he said.

The queen joined him in contemplation. Leaves from the Heart Tree drifted down around her and danced in the wind. The sun’s edge crested the horizon and painted the clouds with broad pink strokes. A boy and two birds cast long shadows beneath the tree.

A sweep of Birdmom’s tail sent a trail of greens and reds scattering across the clearing. The Queen of the Northern Forest had made her decision. Spreading her wings, the monarch flew atop the lone tree in the center of the glade. She craned her neck and plucked a single feather. Her blood flowed for but an instant.

Milo watched, mesmerized, as the gleaming droplet fell from the heavens and landed at the base of the tree.

Sprouts sprung from the soil, then budded and blossomed.

Bright floral arrangements unfurled from the land.

New spirits of earth looked up in confusion,

Then buried their heads and dove in the grass.

The fresh patches of rainbow flowers dotting the forest floor swayed as the queen descended from her perch on the Heart Tree. She lowered her head and offered her tail feather to Milo. The boy held out both hands to receive this gift of immeasurable value.

The feather shrank from dozens of feet down to just one, then floated onto his open palms. He turned it around in his hands and was struck by awe. Its quill was clear like a polished crystal and the opalescent plumes shimmered with milky radiance. Milo was dazed by the sheer splendor of it all and absently traced a finger over the length of the feather. The vane felt soft enough to use as a blanket, and, when the boy tried, it grew to size and wrapped around him, as gentle and warm as a mother’s embrace.

Birdmom put her wing atop Milo's head. It was equally warm and soft. Then suddenly it was gone. A light breeze rustled the leaves of the Heart Tree. The flowers danced in tandem. Time resumed its steady trickle, and the creatures of nature flowed back into old routines. A prismatic streak stained the sky and settled on top of the lone tree overlooking the entire forest.

Milo walked back over the mossy bridge, into the clearing, and then into the forest once more. He took one last look back and waved to the top of the tree.

Chirp.

“Goodbye, Bird.”