Amara awoke with a start. Morning sunlight shone through the window, rising against a pleasingly blue sky. She was in her bed, warm and safe beneath the covers. But that wasn’t right, was it?

The last thing she remembered was standing in front of the temple, surrounded by the rest of the village as smoke lifted into the night sky all around them, then nothing. It was almost surreal enough for her to accept that it’d all been a dream. Almost. The memories from last night were far too visceral to simply dismiss, especially the feeling of bodily command over the fire. It had been incredible, like holding power itself in her hands, and she desperately wanted to feel it again.

The door to her room opened, and Demetria walked in, looking troubled. When she laid eyes on Amara she let out a startled gasp, then rushed over to embrace her.

“Oh thank God you’re alright! I was so worried that you weren’t going to wake up!”

“What happened?” Amara asked sleepily.

“You just fainted! Seeing you both collapse like that gave us all an awful fright!”

Demetria pulled back a bit to get a look at Amara’s face. Her expression was full of concern, but there was also something else in it that left Amara feeling unsettled. The emotion was difficult to place, but it might have been something like reverence.

Amara sat up in bed, and Demetria hurriedly sat down in the empty dining chair beside her.

“Both?”

“Yes, honey. Evander fainted as well.”

Amara had no idea what that could possibly mean. She’d felt relatively fine, all things considered, despite having inhaled a fair bit of smoke.

“Those men,” she said. “And the temple, the fire. Did all that really happen?”

“Well, unless you and I and the entire village all shared the same hallucination, I would say so," Demetria said, pausing. “I didn’t get to see it myself, but people were saying that you somehow used the fire to burn all the soldiers. Is that…true?”

Yes, Amara almost replied, but a thought occurred to her which stayed her tongue. In the heat of the moment she hadn’t realized the full gravity of what she’d done. She’d killed something like two dozen people last night, and they definitely hadn’t died peacefully.

Shock began to overwhelm her. Before yesterday she’d hardly hurt a fly her entire life, and then in the space of just one day she’d been punching people and burning them to death.

What in the absolute hell is happening to me?

“Honey?”

“U-um, yes,” Amara replied, stammering. “I did do that.”

A look of wonder crossed Demetria’s expression.

“Thank you so much for saving us.”

Amara wasn’t sure what to say, so she left the offered gratitude hanging.

“I have to ask,” Demetria said cautiously. “The thing you did with the fire…have you always been able to do that?”

“No! It was….”

She trailed off, realizing that she had no idea how to explain it.

“...It just kind of happened. I really don’t know how I did it.”

Demetria nodded slowly. “I understand. Well, I’m very sorry to say this, but more has happened while you were asleep.”

“What? How long did I sleep?”

“Just a few hours. It's, well….”

Demetria trailed off, thinking.

“...The village council wants to speak with you, and I think it would be best to hear it from them. It’s very important that you go see them as soon as possible, Mara.”

“About what?” Amara asked, throwing off the covers.

“They’ll explain. Will you go now?”

Amara rolled her eyes. “Yes, mom. Just let me get dressed.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, honey, but it is important.” She paused. “I’ll go to the temple and tell them they can expect you soon.”

Demetria stood up and gave Amara another embrace. Amara returned it fiercely, and an immense feeling of relief and gratitude washed over her. She was overjoyed that her mother was safe. Nothing else in the universe mattered.

“I’ll see you there,” Demetria said once they finally separated. Amara gave her a smile, trying to hide the apprehension she felt.

Demetria closed the door after herself, and after waiting for a few seconds Amara let out a huge sigh. Somehow the idea of working in the compost pit all day for a week straight didn’t seem so bad, anymore.

She crossed the room towards her dresser, then halted mid-step when the sound of flapping wings occurred at her window. She’d heard that noise a million times over the years, but this time it caused a thrill of fear to pass through her. It took a few moments for her to build up the courage to turn and face it.

Mattias was perched on the windowsill outside, staring directly at her. His eyes were their normal black against black, but something about his demeanor was completely different. The way he held himself still while locked with her gaze was entirely unbirdlike.

The same voice from last night sounded in her head, causing her to let out a startled gasp.

Hello, Amara. May I come in?

She blinked several times, trying and failing to think. For some reason her mind had gone blank.

“What are you?” she eventually blurted out.

Let’s just say that I’m a helper along the way. Now, can I please come in? You’ve let me into your room plenty of times before.

Invoking their friendship was enough to propel her to the window, despite her anxiety. She lifted it up, and Mattias hopped inside, perching himself on the inner windowsill. Amara took a few wary steps backwards.

Thank you.

“You’re welcome?”

You’re burning with questions, I’m sure. There’s enough time for me to answer at least a few of them.

“You’re not just a bird,” she said nervously.

That isn’t a question, but yes. I am clearly not just a bird.

“Have you been something else this whole time?”

Yes, he responded simply. I’m sure you’re feeling very overwhelmed right now, but I think you should ask me questions that don’t have painfully obvious answers.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Somehow that kind of snark seemed entirely appropriate for him. If any bird were to be capable of sarcasm, that bird would be Mattias.

“How is that painfully obvious? Animals can’t talk like humans! Were you just acting like a bird this whole time?!”

Did you really suspect nothing? After all these long years we’ve been together?

“I just thought you were someone’s pet raven who got free!” she shouted. “How the hell could I have possibly known this?!”

Hopefully you’ll learn the importance of paying closer attention to your surroundings before it's too late. You’re going to need that kind of skill and much more for what’s ahead.

“I told you things,” she realized with horror. “Things I didn’t want anyone else to hear.”

You told me things in confidence because I’m your friend, not because you thought I couldn’t talk. Besides, your secrets are safe with me. No one can hear my voice except for you.

She sighed heavily, and took a few steps over towards her bed to sit back down.

“...Alright, fine. You’re not a bird, and I’m stupid. So what’s ahead?”

Danger. A great deal of it. For yourself, your mother, and your entire village.

“Danger,” she said slowly. “What kind of danger? Does this have something to do with the soldiers?”

In a certain sense. For now, choose your path very carefully. The Pattern has many ways of punishing careless Destined.

“The Pattern. What’s that?”

Explaining it would require far more time than you currently have. But that time is coming. I promise to tell you everything you need to know and more, soon.

“You promise,” Amara scowled. “What is that even worth? I thought you were my best friend, but now I don’t know who you are.”

You’re very dear to me, Amara. I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you everything earlier.

A wave of emotion suddenly struck Amara, nearly causing her to tear up. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d been wrestling with the awful idea that she’d just lost her closest friend. Hearing him confirm their relationship so readily made her much more willing to trust him. If he really was the Mattias she’d known, then there was only one other person she trusted more.

Go and see the council. We’ll speak again soon.

Mattias turned about to leave, ducking beneath the open window.

“Wait!” Amara shouted while leaping off the bed. “Where are you going?!”

Away. There’s other things at play, here.

He took off without another word. She rushed over to the window and watched as he flew away to the east, over the town square.

Once he’d disappeared, Amara reached her forefinger and thumb down to her forearm, pinching the skin there hard enough to cause pain.

“Hopefully I’ll wake up soon,” she said aloud.

----------------------------------------

The front door was still hanging open when Amara arrived at the top of the stairs. The light breeze coming through the doorway felt nice, but the fact that the door was too damaged to properly close was an entirely unwelcome confirmation of what’d happened last night.

The sky was still overcast when she stepped out onto the porch, but fortunately it wasn’t nearly as humid as it’d been yesterday. A feeling of calm began to wash over her, until she happened to look south.

The wheat field stretched all across the southern horizon from her perspective on the porch, but it’d undergone some kind of drastic change since she last saw it. Instead of the uniform yellow-gold she was used to, the wheat was now covered in uneven splotches of black and brown colors. For a moment, Amara worried that she’d missed some of the fire from last night and it’d somehow reached the field, but after staring at it for a while concluded that wasn’t likely. The wheat looked blighted and sickly, not burned.

Amara was stunned—the wheat was Shiloh’s lifeline, the village’s main source of food. Caring for it all spring and summer and then harvesting and storing the grain in fall took up the vast majority of their time and effort throughout the year. If it was now dead, how could they possibly survive?

This must be what mom was talking about, she thought, and turned to set off up the slope towards the temple with a newfound urgency in her stride.

When she crested the hill, she spotted quite a few people moving about in the village square, hauling tools and wooden planks to and fro. The temple was visibly scorched all across its exterior, and people were already hard at work on repairs. Scorch marks dotted the grass near the temple, but it looked as though what little remained of the soldiers had already been cleaned up. More than everything else she’d experienced so far, even more than Mattias’s thoughts in her head, the sight of the burned grass scattered about unevenly around the temple felt like a final confirmation that what’d happened last night was real.

People began to notice her as she approached the temple. Work slowed to a halt, and by the time she reached the temple’s doorway everyone in the square had stopped what they were doing to stare at her. There was a wonderment in their expressions that left Amara feeling uncomfortable, and she was relieved to escape from their gazes by entering the temple.

The temple’s pews had been removed, which left the whole building feeling oddly hollowed out. The walls inside were about as scorched and damaged as they were outside, but no one seemed to be working on them. Instead, Evander stood alone in the center of the empty temple, and in front of him the chief, the Seeker, and Tye sat behind a long table located where the pulpit normally was. Demetria was there as well, standing a few paces behind the Seeker.

They’d been discussing something when Amara first appeared, but they all fell silent once she entered the temple. Evander turned to face her, giving her a half-smile.

“Hey.”

Amara nodded to him in greeting, then turned her gaze to Demetria.

“What are you doing, mom?”

“I meant to tell you about this yesterday,” Demetria said hastily. “The Seeker asked me to become her apprentice. We would’ve told you, but you fell asleep so early in the day. And then everything else happened.”

Once again, Amara was stunned. The implications of becoming the Seeker’s apprentice were obvious—her mother would become the Seeker herself someday, and probably relatively soon, all things considered. How could she do something like this when the entire village had always treated them like outcasts?

“We owe you our thanks, Amara,” the Seeker said. “You saved us from certain death.”

The chief and Tye nodded gravely in agreement. Amara blinked rapidly before responding.

“You’re welcome, but I didn’t, um….”

She trailed off, realizing that what she was about to say probably wouldn’t go over well.

I was just trying to save my mother.

“I don’t think I need to explain how this crisis is related to God’s divine will,” the Seeker continued. “No Destined have been born in Shiloh for almost two hundred years, and in the space of one evening He reveals the presence of two to us.”

“Funny how He didn’t give us any warning in the stars,” the chief said ruefully.

“He did,” the Seeker frowned. “The signs were all there, I simply misinterpreted them. He is perfect, but I certainly am not.”

“Guess we should thank our lucky stars, then.”

The Seeker visibly took offense, but said nothing, and Tye took her silence as an opportunity to jump in.

“That aside, after spending last night and all this morning checking the forest for tracks, we’re fairly certain that none of the soldiers escaped. Whoever sent them here won’t receive any word of their failure.”

“‘Whoever’ sent them,” the chief scoffed. “Lucyra sent them to murder us all and take our grain.”

The Seeker shook her head. “King Shabboleth is a Seraphim, one of God’s few messengers on the mortal plane. He would never do something so sinful.”

Feeling impatient, Amara decided to interject.

“What happened to the wheat?”

“We’re not sure,” the chief said. “But whatever they did definitely killed it.”

“I don’t think it was them,” said Tye. “Why would they want to kill us and destroy our wheat? That doesn't make a lick of sense.”

“Doesn’t even matter. Point is we’re now in very deep trouble. We have only a few weeks left of food in the village, at best. If we're lucky, Tye’s hunters might be able to extend our food supplies for a few extra weeks. If we're lucky. But once winter is here we're sure to starve.”

“And you want us to do something about it,” said Evander.

“God would not have sent two Destined to us just for you to sit around and do nothing,” the Seeker said dryly.

“You can’t send our only defenses away,” the Chief growled.

“There is no other choice,” the Seeker replied. “Would you really prefer they remain here, waiting to starve with the rest of us?”

“Maybe that’s why He sent two. One to stay and one to leave.”

“They both have to go,” said Tye. “It’s two less mouths to feed, and they'll be twice as likely to succeed then they otherwise would alone. Besides, after last night I think it’s obvious that they’ll be safer out there than they will be here.”

Amara saw begrudging acceptance growing on the chief’s face.

Are they really going to send us away?

“You have two tasks,” the Seeker said. “Find out why the Lucyrans sent their soldiers to kill us, and discover some way to resolve our food crisis before we all starve to death.”

“I understand,” Evander said confidently. Amara remained silent, unsure of how to respond. The way they’d just assumed she would do whatever they asked of her was aggravating.

The Seeker nodded gravely. “It’s regrettable that we have to send two of our most promising young people out into the world with so little preparation. But Destiny demands it, and so it must be.”

“You’ll leave tomorrow morning,” said Tye. “We’ll give you whatever we can to help you.”

“You should probably go to Lucyra,” the chief added. “It’ll be dangerous, but you can get there within a week, if you hurry. If you can’t find food for us you’ll at least be able to gather information.”

“Guard yourselves well!” the Seeker hissed. “The lands beyond Shiloh contain an untold number of threats. Tell no one where you came from, and when you must interact with strangers, always use an assumed name!”

“Go on,” Tye said, dismissing them.

Amara immediately turned away, storming out of the temple. She’d always wanted to leave Shiloh, but there was a massive difference between leaving on her own accord and what they'd just asked—no, demanded—of her.

They actually think I’m just going to do whatever they say after how they’ve treated us all these years? Fuck that! I’m going to do whatever the hell I feel like! I don’t give a damn about them or this place!

She marched off in the direction of home, her fists curled tight with anger, barely cognizant of the people in the town square who'd stopped once again to stare.