What a mess I've gotten myself in.

Against my better wishes, Pandora's box has been opened, and with it, a surging ocean of uncertain futures have been unleashed. Combined with my inability to process the gravity of my own impossible existence, and it's no wonder I ended up broken.

Time froze and I became trapped in my own solitary prison.

Overseeing my sentence is my very own traitorous imagination, brandishing an arsenal of it's own cruel design. One after the other, words sear into me as if they were made of white-hot metal all along.

Your momentary freedom is a fleeting illusion, for someone like you will always be hunted. Forever destined to fly away lest your secret be found. How useless to have your heart and mind filled with the hopeful prospects of humanity. Why bother, you will never reunite with what you truly yearn.

Stop…

What a lonely, laughable fate. Slowly your sanity, your morals, your desires, they will all wither away while you cower and hide. Will time even find one like you, someone who defies the natural laws of this world?

Enough.

What sort of delightful madness will occur when you can no longer suffer the fate of your own existence? The moment you let down your guard, desperate for hearth and kin. That will be the irresistible crown jewel of your hubris.

BE QUIET!

Your monstrous fate is inevitable. In the end, what sort of creature will sit on the final throne? After all, you should know-

I SAID SHUT UP!

…

At last, the treacherous voice came to an end, but it means precious little when I'm still trapped. Worst yet, the following silence isn't as relieving or comforting as I thought it would be. Rather it grasps the knife lodged within me and twists the handle mercilessly. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, there's but one option. To suffer alone in silence.

Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, I feel a heavy weight in my lap. It's impossible to see or tell what it is, but it's something new to focus on. A force to dispel the growing horde of wretched thoughts. Eager to be rid of this torment, I close my eyes and focus on the weight pressing into my lap.

When the pain finally subsides and I dare to open my eyes, I discover that something new has appeared in the darkness of my cell. Broken fragments of brilliant crystals are scattered throughout the pitch-black room in a circle around me. Stranger still is how they evoke a bizarre sense of familiarity when I gaze upon their various shapes.

Reaching for the first one, it fills me with a sense of warmth that reminds me that my will is not as weak as I deemed it to be. Before I even knew who I was, a daunting challenge with a draconic visage bared its ugly fangs at me. There was every opportunity back then to give up and back down, but I found my own strength to rally behind instead, and the courage to act on it. In that brutal forge, my mettle was tested, and it was not found wanting.

The next one lying nearby is not as luminescent as the others. Layers of grime sully and obscure the surface, and as I pick it up, its sharp edges bite into me. Fresh blood seeps from the wound and builds up another layer around the around the already plenty dirty exterior. It's a pain I know well, and the longer I stare into the unsightly fragment, I begin to recognize the individual blemishes and mistakes that have brought it to such a miserable state. However more importantly, I instinctively turn the shard over to reveal a polished section that radiates an inner light. There's a lot of work before the true beauty of this piece can be revealed, but nevertheless, there is proof that it can be done.

One after the other, I collect these fragments, but even after I collect the final one, a hollowness still remains. Searching within the dark confines of this space, there are no more to be found. Instead, dregs of deep black fog seep into my once solitary space. In eerie silence, the growing fog condenses and forms into the likeness of abyssal roots that slither and squirm through the void of this otherwise empty realm. Their presence evokes a deep sense of discomfort that makes me want to run away as far I can, but there is nowhere to flee in this space.

They twist and turn around me in malevolent fashion, as if taking a warped sense of both pleasure and pride in the way they carry themselves. Some unfurl to reveal their own hidden fragments, offering them in a gesture of trade while others snake around me in alluring coils, keeping me trapped within their embrace. More follow suit, until several glittering shards are presented in turn, each with their own twisted appeal.

Inspecting my own collection, I am ruefully reminded of the vague feeling that something is missing. As if emphasizing my own point, the smokey tendrils hold their treasures closer and in such an easy and inviting way. How simple it would be to take any of them…

Cautiously I inspect the nearest one, and in it, I feel a strange sense of determination. From it wells a deep source of passion that, should I draw from it, would fill me with an unrelenting sense of purpose.

The unexpected nature of it causes me to suddenly rear back. What the hell? It's nothing I imagined or even thought it would be.

The shadowy merchant curls in on itself, as if grinning in its own unnatural way. Without me speaking a single word, it once again offers its goods with practiced confidence.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I'm almost tempted to take it, and I'm surprised by how unnaturally civil the other mysterious entities are. I half-expected them all to shamelessly push themselves forward to force their own fragments upon me. Instead, they lurk patiently in the shadows, an unsettling reminder that they are available in a moments notice should I show even a single mote of interest.

Curious, I invite the next one over, to which it slithers over into the others place with glee. The former slinks away with no resistance, obediently taking its own place among the others. About this fragment, there's an air of comfort that surrounds it. It induces feelings of peaceful tranquility in a field of blissful silence. The longer I stare into it, the greater the sense of calm washes over me.

But I can't help but feel something entirely uncanny about all of this. Their presence is unquestionably sinister, so why are their offers all so incredibly tempting?

Dozens of these shadowy beings lurk in the black realm, all eager to offer their own goods as readily as the first two. Should I really accept any of their offers? Can I even escape this prison if I don't?

Despite their outward pleasing appearances that promise to fill the empty gap within me, there is a false quality to all these foreign fragments. Do any of these truly represent who I am?

Or maybe they are here because they know I lack what it takes to continue.

Suddenly I feel a shift in my lap, and I'm reminded of the mysterious force that weighs down on me. I had nearly forgotten about it. What even is this?

Ignoring the mysterious audience around me, I bring the tip of my wing toward the unknown presence in my lap. From it, my feathers brush against something soft, yet at the same time, somewhat coarse. It's strange, and not entirely unpleasant, despite me having no idea what it is. What I do feel however, is a new feeling of ease to combat my growing uncertainty in regards toward my current company and their unknown agenda.

In that moment of calm, I come to a new realization. There is something missing, and it's not anything that these deceitful creatures are offering. I extend a claw to the one spot that is lighter than it should be. Almost like it were never gone, a once familiar necklace brushes against my claw before the feeling disappears once more.

Like an ebbing tide, the shadowy merchants dissipate back into fog and recede back from whence they came, and in their place, brilliant colors roar with newfound life. All the sun soaked hues of the forest dance across my vision with dizzying vigor, painting the once black canvas with countless purposeful strokes.

It takes several blinks for my eyes to readjust, I'm right back where I was before. Only to my surprise, Marco is laying his giant head across my lap. And buried into the scruff of his neck is my open wing, unbeknownst to me, gently scratching his thick coat of black fur with claws that move on their own.

He looks so peaceful with his eyes closed. Even his upstanding sentry is at ease, the only sign that it's not completely neglecting its duty being a tongue flicking in and out in slow rhythmic intervals.

Somehow I managed to get so worked up that I lost control of myself, it almost makes me feel like a fool. To be so caught up in the maelstrom of "what if's". Yet many of those concerns still linger like a poisonous bog in the back of my mind. Thankfully with the Marco's help, I managed to escape from its entanglement for now, and perhaps in the future, I will find a way to uproot it in entirety. But for now, its presence remains, only it's manageable now.

Grwwwllllll.

Erk, when was the last time I ate?

Marco catches on to me to as well, given the sudden flick of his ears. Suddenly, he lifts himself up and makes his way toward one of the ape carcasses. With no hesitation whatsoever, he begins tearing away a large slab of meat.

Gears start spinning in my head, and when I realize what he's doing, I get up in a desperate burst of speed. Hell no! Don't you dare bring that rotten crap over here!

Without waiting for him, I dash for the other end of the clearing, which earns me a startled glares from Megaera as I happen to pass her alcove. The alternative would be swinging around the other side past the twins, but I would really prefer to avoid that drama again. Besides, I don't have much to fear from the now handicapped troublemaker.

Should I feel guilty that I can help her but I choose not to?

Hmmmm…

I'll stew on that later. For now I need to keep heading downhill, it's my best chance for finding my way back to the river. At least there I can catch something a little less, I don't know, infested.

For the time being, I'm not being pursued by my clingy guardian. But given that nearly every canine I can think of has an impeccable sense of smell, I gather that I have at most, a few minutes before he catches up to me. I can only hope that he doesn't take my grand escape the wrong way. Leaving him so suddenly after he watched over me during my moment of weakness makes me feel guilty for leaving him behind, but I just know that if I stayed, he would have forced me to eat that wretched carrion. A fate I am determined to avoid if I have any say in the matter.

Gargantuan trees as ancient as the oak that dominates our clearing blur past me as I continue to run. These giants may not be as wide or sprawling as our home tree, rather instead these behemoths have decided to race against their peers for access to the sun rich sky in a competition that could be gauged in lifetimes. Even still, none of them could hold a candle to the wonder that can only be labeled as a world tree. The World Tree. All of these massive trees could hardly be considered freshly sprouted branches to that impossible titan. The stark contrast in size is simply that ridiculous.

A small trace of inescapable fear breaks through the thin veil erected after my panic attack, forcing me to stop in my tracks and squash it before it gets any worse. Unfortunately, another question snakes its way through my defenses.

Just how long was I trapped beneath the roots of that thing?

Take deep breathes Alistair, you're fine. You're safe for now, there's no need to worry. I turn instinctively towards where Marco should be to reaffirm my safety, but there is only the recently trampled undergrowth behind me.

I allow the faint embers hoping that Marco will catch up to run their course. At least this way, I can say I gave him a proper chance.

During that time, it occurs to me that the forest is far livelier than what I remember. Sharp cries of unseen creatures compete against each other in untamed bids to have their cries heard. My first thought is some sort of primal census, a crude method to figure out who survived the twin disasters from the night prior, one of which being my fault, I think grimly.

On the other wing, there's a certain charm to the wild cacophony. One that inspires a sort of empathy and bewildering sense of kindred.

…

Am I going native?

Before I can dwell on that thought for too long, I hear something pounding through the forest as if it were in the middle of hot pursuit.

About time you show up, for a bit I was thinking you wouldn't come.

Thankfully, Marco opted against bringing any gifts for me. Instead he just strides right up next to me as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him. His serpentine companion looks a little tense however, tasting the air in far more frequent intervals compared to earlier.

What a welcoming sense of reassurance to have such a diligent ally keep watch.

Marco turns his head as if I had spoken that statement aloud. Don't steal your partners credit here! Even though I appreciate your inexplicably odd sense of loyalty too.

Still it's weird. Did he actually understand me?

Chalk it up as another one of those "unexplainable mysteries that are probably related to and/or caused by essence". If I spent too long thinking about each and every one of those instances, I wouldn't get anything done.

Seeing as how Marco isn't trying to shove me back in the direction of our camp, I take it as a go-ahead to continue.

It doesn't take us much longer to get to the river, turns out heading downhill was the right call after all. On the way, Marco and I passed all sorts of wreckage from last night's storm. A fallen tree here, branches and other debris scattered over there, but the savage winds and rain took a much greater toll on the river. The first clue came with the fact it could be heard well before we could actually see it. Roaring rapids easily drown out all the other ambient noises, and as we drew closer and closer, the destruction only becomes more obvious. Massive channels carved their way through the loose soil, many of them still slick with brackish water and clogged with mud-soaked debris. All of them empty out in direction of the overflowing river which churns aggressively with white-capped rapids. All around, shrubs and other low growing foliage are helplessly submerged beneath the waves with only the occasional limb breaching the surface. Trees that grew too close to the water faced a similar fate, their trunks serving as markers for just how high the water has risen.

Well… this makes things a bit more difficult. So much for my idea of catching some fresh fish to eat.

My eyes fall upon a log carried by the river current that sails past the two of us with alarming speed. In a matter of seconds, it's gone and completely out of view.

I don't even have to look at Marco to tell what sort of annoying expression he's making towards me. One that surely says, "Should have eaten when you had the chance".

I'm not eating that damn rotten meat!