Charles’ glassy-eyed gaze still rested on the empty nest above him when he began to collect himself. Life wasn’t fair, that much he’d always known, and for just the shortest of times, he’d gotten a taste of what normal might be like. Certainly, he wasn’t going to say becoming a bird and being raised as one was normal, but having a family was something that he’d craved.
And now they were gone. Again.
‘Stop it.’ Charles shut down the waves of emotions that threatened to cloud his mind once more, ‘Pull yourself together. Just because this happened doesn’t mean you can afford to just shut down.’
Still, saying that wasn’t the same as making it true. But, Charles had survived through a lot, been crushed emotionally and mentally so many times in the last years of his life that he’d earned himself considerable mental endurance. He was sad, sure, but now wasn’t the time to give in to despair.
So it was that the killer bird dragged itself to its feet, the dimming light of day beginning to cast the forest in a cool pallet of color. He wanted to be able to know for sure what had happened to his bird siblings, but he suspected that they’d be more than capable of flight by now, perhaps even living on their own. That was some solace, at least, that they’d all be able to live their lives, flitting about in the canopy.
‘Unless they’re also ground based birds,’ He managed to joke, ‘I do have to wonder how Mother and Father took losing me. Were they sad?’ Charles mulled the idea over before having to push it away, feeling nothing but a deep morose at the thought. He’d have to assume that, yes, they were sad, but his sacrifice had prevented something far, far worse.
‘Alright, shelter, water, food. In that order.’ Charles turned around and headed back towards the source of water he knew about. Having already consumed a great deal of food, he knew he’d be good for some time there. Shelter, though, was a bit more… difficult.
He was larger now by a good deal than he’d been previously. Many trees simply didn’t have the hollow space beneath to accommodate his size, and he had to guesstimate how large he’d be later on. On top of that, he wasn’t sure that sleeping up in a tree was a good idea either, but that seemed more of an instinctive response than anything else. Though, he had to admit already that it was difficult not to simply plop down where he was and sleep, the exhaustion from crying and from his near death experience doing a lot to suck the energy out of him.
‘But, it’d be prudent to at least be in the right area…’ He convinced himself, pushing onwards and eventually making his way back to the creek. He knew that being so close to the creek would be risky due to it being a congregation point for potentially larger predators, and so immediately began to move further away on the other side. With a glance, he disregarded the tree with the corpse of the snake. Some of the bones were now scattered, evidence that something else had decided to start chewing on it. Some of the meat was still there, but he doubted it would be palatable for much longer. Already, he took a risk eating it, but he hadn’t much other choice.
At the very least, this position would give him the ability to hunt further afield of the creek. He’d avoid killing anything at the water's edge itself, given that he didn’t want to risk any potential prey moving out of the area. That might be unnecessary as a concern, but he was aware that animals were at least marginally more intelligent.
He carefully avoided thinking on the topic more deeply, knowing that he’d have to kill and eat something whilst knowing how sapient that something was came a bit closer to his ethical bottom line than he’d have liked.
Many of the trees on this side of the creek were larger with expansive and dense roots rising from the uneven forest floor and providing cover. They resembled mangrove trees in that manner, and yet they were much larger overall. It was fascinating in a way, like looking at some primordial realm as yet untapped by humanity. Perhaps that was the case, too, given that he had no idea where any humans might be.
Or non-humans, he supposed, as this was a very different world than he knew. ‘I’ll have to be careful with my assumptions,’ he thought warily, ‘Humans might not even be the dominant life form here…’
For the next several minutes, Charles busied himself with checking some of the trees’ root systems. They had some space between the roots, but Charles’ shallow knowledge of a mangrove tree left him unaware if it was even common for larger cavities to form. Several times he’d stuffed his head into these hollows, wondering if he could excavate some of the less large roots to widen the space. Ultimately, he decided that would be an option of last resort since he didn’t know how the trees themselves might hold up to his hacking and cutting in the long term.
After an hour, and with the sunlight now only a glimmer in the upper canopy, Charles was beginning to loosen his requirements dramatically. Finding the perfect tree wasn’t working, but there wasn’t anything that he was even remotely confident that could handle his potential size as far as permanent lodging was concerned. He’d guessed that he’d be somewhere around a reasonable meter and change tall, up to a whopping two and a half meters tall if historical killer birds on earth were any indicator. That was a lot of space that he’d need, and while any given animal probably could make do with a smaller hovel, the human side of Charles railed against being stuffed into a smaller space.
He wanted something more to call his own, perhaps not some mystical tree-house, but at least something that was nicer. Perhaps he was being a touch prideful, but he didn’t want to compromise on this. In fact, he felt that his instinctual response matched his own disdain of the smaller areas, leaving him content with trying to find something more suitable.
‘Alright, we’ll look a bit longer before we find something to work with tonight.’ Charles finally began to relent under the decreasing light. ‘Perhaps with some high ground?’ The bird studied the landscape near him, sighting a fairly robust hill a few dozen meters away. He wasn’t far from the water, but not especially close at this point, a perfect location if he could find something workable.
Climbing the underbrush of the hill was a bit of work, but he hoped that getting a better vantage might help. He also knew that the forest was dense enough that seeing any direction for more than a hundred meters was a lost cause, but anything was helpful at this point.
Instead of a vantage point, though, Charles found something very different as he crested the hill.
‘Oh? This might do just fine.’ He grinned, seeing the loose circle of trees with three twisting together in the middle. As he moved closer, he realized that the trees’ branches formed a much denser canopy overhead, intertwined such that he quickly doubted that it was done strictly by nature. Yet, he saw no evidence of habitation here, six trees in a vague ring on the outside, and three inner trees that twisted together halfway up, and nothing else. As much as he liked the area, he cautiously moved forward, intent on checking for any traps or the like, or any clues as to what this might be.
Even in the dimming light, his eyes still performed perfectly well, if not even better. Charles’ guessed that maybe whatever kind of bird he was could be more active at night, but that wouldn’t really matter given how exhausted he was now. In spite of his fatigue, though, he forced himself to focus on finding any traps.
And, having failed to find anything, hoped that he didn’t miss anything before he moved towards the middle. The meter or two of space between the outer trees and the inner trees was covered in a fairly uniform mat of roots, and dirt, and as he moved to the middle he realized that there was only really one decent way into the very center. He didn’t approach, though, wanting to confirm that it was safe.
The interior hollow formed by the three trees was a good three meters tall, and moss had begun to grow along the walls of the space. He took a few minutes just watching and listening, noting only that nothing had moved in the clearing or its surroundings even as night fully settled over the forest.
Finally, he took a tentative step inwards, ready to bolt backwards and away at the slightest noise or feeling of danger. Nothing happened, and he allowed himself another step, still just as wary. The temperature within was more moderate than outside, more comfortable, and in spite of his misgivings, he could find no sign that this area was inhabited.
‘But, why?’ He blinked in confusion, turning his gaze outwards back to the trees, unable to see any indication as to why-
He paused as he noticed a symbol carved into each of the trees facing inwards, high up off the ground. Charles’ didn’t know what it was, nor did he feel anything out of the ordinary upon seeing it.
Steadily, he returned his attention to the interior space, only now realizing that the moss hadn’t fully grown over six spots, though it was incredibly difficult to make out in the darkening light. He took another step inside, curiosity overcoming him.
And when light bloomed in his vision, Charles bolted out of the center and out of the outer ring, heart hammering before he came to a stop once more, watching for anything pursuing him.
“What the feathering peck was that?” He asked aloud, not seeing any sign of light within, but also no sign that anything outwards had changed.
For another minute, he stood there, before shaking his head, “This is a really bad idea, right?” He asked himself as he walked back into the outer edge of the formation, still wary of anything out of the ordinary. To his shock, the moment he crossed the threshold, he could see some kind of dim light in the center. Experimentally, he stepped backwards out of the circle, and the light was once more invisible.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Then he stepped inwards again, and the light was once more there.
“Crazy... but not harmful, I think?” He murmured to himself before he made his way to the central area once more. As before, it was a good three meters tall within, and gave a space of three meters in diameter, a nearly perfect half-sphere. Staring at the symbols, he found himself somehow comforted by the warm light they emitted.
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” he told himself before he entered the space fully, letting himself move towards the core of the room. Immediately the glow suffused him, and the dull aches and pains he’d felt began to lessen seemingly within moments. Sitting down and admiring the simple symbol, something that almost looked like a pair of brackets facing inwards, Charles had to admit that there was almost a definite mystical sense to them.
He let his thoughts wander as he stared at them, letting their light wash away his pains. Even his mind seemed to somehow clear, and eventually Charles realized that tensions he hadn’t even known he’d had were gently unraveling.
‘Oh, man, whoever made this is amazing.’ Charles let out a content sigh, ‘This would make a killing on Earth.’
Then he abruptly frowned, ‘This is clearly magic, albeit not flashy, so why am I not more surprised?... Hmm.’ Steadily, Charles turned his attention inwards, trying to get a sense for what was happening with him.
Which mostly failed, aside from the clear realization that this magic was keeping him calm. Charles, with an aggrieved sigh, rose up from the ground and left the hollow, and then the clearing, before turning his gaze back to the trees once more.
“Yup, that’s strange.” Charles looked back to the trees thoughtfully, the sense of calm now replaced with some trepidation and - more importantly - excitement. Magic was definitely real, then, and was currently keeping him from getting too thrilled about it, something that Charles was more than a little frustrated with at the moment. But, given how exhausted he was, that might not necessarily be a bad thing.
At that, he moved back into the trees while he tried to parse apart the sensations as they came. The strongest of which being the rejuvenating sensation that flowed over him. But, he also noticed a much more subtle influence that almost felt like it couldn’t quite find any purchase. If he had to describe it, it was as though a gentle breeze was brushing up against his skin, but he could barely feel it if he wasn’t focused on it. As he did, he felt his feather-brained side want to leave, though without any particular direction.
Charles clamped down on that sensation with bewilderment, now feeling a bit more wary in spite of the calming sense that worked on his clearly more human side. He pushed at that sense, too, and immediately felt only the rejuvenating aura flow over him.
“Alright, so it’s not forcing itself on me,” Charles let out a relieved breath, ambivalent about the aura that acted on his feathery-side.
Instead of thinking about it anymore, given that it didn’t seem to mean him any harm, Charles promptly folded himself up against the far wall, nestled in the moss, and gradually allowed the calming sensation to settle on his mind. Blissful sleep claimed him shortly thereafter, and while he didn’t sleep quite as well as he had while buried beneath his siblings, he was grateful that he didn’t feel nearly as cold and alone as he had a few minutes prior.
The next day, the first thing Charles did was step in and out of the outer ring of the trees once more.
“That’s just so weird.” He clucked aloud, letting the individual sensations roll over him. His body was no longer sore, and in fact it felt like he’d grown, something he was sure he’d have felt dreadful growing pains over otherwise. While he was limited in what he could test, his hypothesis was that, of course, this place was not created by nature. Nature didn’t build in straight lines, and from what he saw of the symbols, that simply couldn’t have been natural. That, and the fact that the tree formation was so deliberately placed as shelter made him assume that this was made with intent, not nature's whims.
Well, maybe in this world it could be natural, but until he saw anything to the contrary, he had to assume this had been made by sapient - if not human - hands. The reason seemed to simply be for a safe spot to rest and heal, and that sensation against his more animal side seemed to be to push away would-be squatters and other creatures. Why it barely did anything to him, Charles couldn't decisively say, but he had a few suspicions.
The easiest of which was to say that he wasn’t fully a beast. His human side could account, perhaps, for if the magic was specifically geared towards chasing off non-sapient critters. The second stemmed from a similar line of thought, being that his mind was just too strong to be influenced by such a weak suggestion. While he didn’t know anything about how magic worked, if he had to guess based off of countless fantasy novels and ideas from his old world, there was a chance that it either had to be very specific, or was a low-level spell.
Thirdly, there very well could have been the chance that Alterra’s blessing rendered him somehow immune to the effect. Or, and this one he disliked the most, whatever had thrown him so wildly off course and caused him to reincarnate as a bird had thoroughly broken some kind of internal framework, resulting in questionable consequences that he couldn’t possibly imagine right now.
He really hoped that the fourth option wasn’t on the table, but he couldn’t afford to be naive in his reasoning, especially considering how life tended to treat him.
The next practical question, of course, was whether or not he really should make this his home. Yes, it was a perfect size for him, large enough that he could even adorn it with whatever he might find amusing, and it could both heal his body, and his mind. It also came with the premium benefit of keeping any wandering creatures from stumbling into his abode. The shelter itself was incredibly good, almost as comfy as a house might be, seemingly with some form of temperature balancing.
Yet, each of those bonuses just made the negative that much more pressing. He highly doubted that it had been visited at any time in the recent past, but he also couldn’t be sure if that was due to it being forgotten, or if this was something of a yearly retreat. Perhaps there were many of these all over the forest, but he couldn’t guarantee that to be the case. If this was, say, the only one for the next several kilometers, then it would be a guarantee that he would eventually have sapient visitors.
Was that a bad thing? He didn’t know. Communication would likely be nearly impossible, and if he was right about how large he was going to get, a giant killer bird was more likely to inspire fear and terror than for someone to point at him and say “Oh, I’m sure it’s friendly! We should let it come closer to us and try to pet it.”
He paused at that, thinking back to how many idiots existed on Earth, and then put that possibility from impossible to a hard maybe.
‘Alright, so, either people forgot this thing exists and I can probably stay in it long term, or people know it exists and it's a matter of time before someone comes and checks it out.’ Charles considered the problem, ‘Ultimately, does it matter? I don’t know how strong people are, but with magic I should assume that the general baseline is higher. Or is that wrong? Hmm… Well, in any case, I have to admit that I really want this place.’
The more Charles thought about it, the more he realized that, in spite of the danger, he didn’t want to give up this prime real estate. While it might not be the safest and most logical of choices, Charles accepted the risk. This was going to be his home. Vaguely he could feel his instincts respond positively to the sentiment, ‘Well, that’s that, then.’
Having settled the matter, he carefully made his way towards the stream, slashing a tree every now and then as he passed with his talons. He expected that he’d eventually get lost, but if he did this, then at least he’d have something to tell him where he needed to go. What surprised him, though, was how easily his claws dug into the wood. That was welcome, though, considering he didn’t want to have to waste energy. Every tenth tree he left a slash from his three-toed talons, cutting deep into the bark.
When he finally made his way to the creek, Charles eagerly drank the cold water. After that, he cleaned himself once more, finding it oddly comfortable to preen through his feathers with his beak. His longer neck allowed him to fairly easily reach any part of himself without too much fiddling and flexing. Then, he stretched his body, an exultant series of deep warbles coming unbidden from his throat.
Finally, he gazed at his own reflection in the water once more, his flush and full burgundy, sapphire, and obsidian feathers fluffing up as he shook himself free of water. He had to admit, he was one damn beautiful bird, a crown of feathers had begun to grow in, sweeping backwards from his forehead and down the nape of his neck, as of yet still short. He tilted his head, testing to see how expressive he could be with his face.
Surprisingly, he had a great deal of what he could call ‘human-like’ expressivity. Not so much the more minute stuff, but between the corner of his lips past his beak, his raptor eyes, and the still growing crown of feathers, he could manage a wide range.
Not that he suspected he’d really need it any time soon, but it amused him to no end to see his own expressions. He would have laughed if he were a human to see the flat and unamused looks he’d managed to make on a giant killer bird.
On that note, he did notice that his beak wasn’t even as simple as he’d initially suspected. It was certainly longer, but he’d noticed that the curve of his beak was much narrower and sharper than what he remembered Earth’s killer birds seemed to have in recreations.
To test it, he walked towards a tree and pecked it straight on, braced for what he assumed would be a fairly discombobulating strike, and instead found himself surprised. The strike barely bothered him, and as he pulled away, he was doubly shocked to see he’d dug straight through the bark just with the bladed-portion of his beak.
“Alright, that’s damned terrifying.” He blinked in dismay at the fact that his beak was very much more blade-like than he’d given it credit for.
‘Bladebeak it is,’ Charles mentally sorted his own species with a shrug. It wasn’t imaginative, but he didn’t know the real name. Hell, given how unimaginative some people could be, he doubted that was even a bad name in the grand scheme of things.
Next he tested his wing feathers, remembering the sensation of his harder-than-normal feathers as they cut into meat. Perhaps disappointingly - compared to his other weapons, at least - the feathers left dozens of shallow cuts in the bark, but no more. He shook his head with amusement, surprised to find himself disappointed in the inability to cut things with his feathers was just silly.
His wing talons, on the other hand, were just as deadly as his other weapons, albeit they were very much less capable of grasping well. They were more than serviceable to hook onto something, perhaps to anchor into a tree and maybe even climb… but advanced manipulation was outright impossible. Charles swung a stick to confirm, finding that he couldn’t hold it tightly enough and that it immediately flew out of his grip when he moved it quickly.
“Gonna need to practice that.” He shrugged as he dropped the stick before he turned his attention to another tree. In a moment of whimsy, he walked up to it, trying to stand as straight as he could considering his body’s natural posture. Then, when he was fairly sure of his height, he cut a line in the wood with his beak as high as he could.
“Now I can see how much I have grown over time… well, at least generally.” The predatory bird nodded to his handiwork.
Everything was going well enough. In spite of no longer being around his siblings, he didn’t quite feel great, the loneliness already creeping into his subconscious thoughts. Maybe at some point he’d have to try to figure out what to do about it, if there was anything he could do about it. That would come at some point, he was sure, but for the time being, there was just one goal that stood out above all the others.
“Time to learn how to hunt.” Charles took a steadying breath, nervous energy filling his chest.