Myra (hehe!) continues guiding us towards our destination. We forge on when the forest floor rises into a steep, gradual incline, the trees becoming narrower, darker, and altogether more…alien.

They glow - they actually glow with blue whisps of life that dance between their wet leaves.

I had no idea trees could be so beautiful.

Especially not when, ever since I woke up in this world, they’ve been trying to kill me.

“Keep up, Raziel,” she calls back to me, offering me a hand as she scales the side of the gradually rising hillock.

I offer her my paw gladly, ignoring the fact that she never asked to call me by my name. But, then again, what good would bringing that fact up really do?

Once at the top of the hill we are afforded a view between the trees that was worth the whole rotten journey this far: the sun setting over the Plains of Rowan.

“It’s…beautiful,” I whisper.

Myra looks down at me, nods once, and proceeds towards a ramshackle, broken hut sequestered between a cluster of gnarled trees.

“The hunter that once lived here has since departed,” she says.

But when she looks back, she finds me fixed on the sight of the glorious sunset.

“Raziel?”

I barely even hear her. “It’s…there’s a lot of world out there, huh?”

“I imagine, for one of your size, it must seem like a daunting place,“ she says as she comes to stand beside me.

When the sun dips it’s head beneath the mountains I’d traveled from, I can see the stretches of human villages down there in the plains, nestled on the banks between winding rivers full of fishy life, or settled near fertile fields perfect for farming. Small hamlets brimming with life, so close, yet so far away…people that are probably watching the same sunset as I am right now, praying for…for me…

“Heh,” I shudder. “When you think about it, I haven’t really seen the world much yet at all. All I’ve seen is what’s coming to gobble it all up.”

Silence descends with the onset of night, and I see the darkening shadows on the other side of the mountain – shadows growing with each passing second. Clouds that swirl with green forks of lightning…

“What was it like?” Myra asks beside me, in a voice so distant it’s like a totally different person. “The Darkseed.”

“Oh. Uh, I never met it in person. Apparently, it’s name’s ‘Gyko’. ‘Lady Gyko’ if you can believe that. Dunno about you, but most ladies I thinkwould rather pet a dog like me instead of, y’know, try to tear it limb from limb.”

She regards the fading sunlight as I talk, seemingly away in her own world.

“You fought it’s minions?”

I nod gravely. “Oh yeah. Those guys I do know. Nasty critters. Spiky. Horny. Mean. Kinda stupid. Most of them can’t talk or think for themselves. They act more like mindless zombies. Except for…well…except for…”

I look up at her, feeling my tongue catch in my throat as the name I need to pronounce just won’t come out.

Seneca! You need to tell her, now more than eve-

“A whole world in turmoil,” Myra murmurs, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword. “And we cower in our high castle, watching it all burn away…”

She trails off, fixed on the final sparks of the sun’s light before the day totally dies.

“Perhaps the Darkseed’s minions are not the only – how did you put it, Raziel? – ‘mindless zombies’ on this earth.”

I try to draw her attention my way, not really knowing what I can say to break the spell that she’s just come under. It’s like she’s truly seeing another dimension beyond my sight.

Come on, Raz! My inner guru howls. Use your doggie tricks! This is a chance to find out what’s really going on, here!

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Listen, Myra…” I say.

She instantly snaps back to soldier-like attention.

Glenmaiden mode: activated…

“Enough sky-gazing,” she says. “The Elemental set our schedule back enough as it was, and hunting Cockatrice by night is a fruitless venture. We shall make camp here. I shall make a fire, and you shall collect Ambergrut samples.”

I’m left blinking after her as she marches away, chopping through pieces of the blown-out shack’s door for firewood.

“I’m sorry, what now?”

“Ambergrut!” she yells over her exertions. “It is a tree native to this part of the forest who’s blood runs with alchemical properties. I am told you are a novice Belchometrist. You will gather the blood of the Ambergrut tree for the battle ahead.”

I look around to see if anyone else is here to bear witness to this bulls-

“And no slacking!” she calls back. “That’s an order from your Master.”

I look around as she continues hacking away, throwing splinters of descimated wood in every direction around her.

“And where, pray tell, is this tree?” I ask in desperation after finally (I guess) accepting this quest.

“You are the Lightbringer, are you not?” comes her curt reply. “Figure it out.”

…

I strut through the darkened forest, keeping my blade clenched in my gnashing teeth.

“’Figure it out’”, she says. “And here I was thinking we’d become such good friends…”

The echo of something out there in the night sends a shiver up my spine.

“W…were these trees always so big?”

I’m suddenly aware that, wherever I’ve strutted off to, I certainly don’t the way back.

Ok, I think. Time to show that you’ve come on a bit since that first dark night in the dead forest of the Demesne. Snoop…go!

[Snoop]

The insides of each tree glowers back at me – nothing but dark shapes against the moonlit sky above. Behind me, suddenly, some pawtracks become distinctly visible.

Mine.

Ok – so you’ve got a way back. I think. And with the [Lycan Eye] the dark ain’t hiding anything from me.

SQUAK!

…But that doesn’t mean I still can’t crap myself.

I jump at the noise and focus on the branches of the narrow trees that stretch all around me.

“I…ahem…listen!” I shout. “Whatever you are, you’re dealing with the Lightborn here!”

A rustle of leaves directly above me.

Then – the onrush of something snapping and falling above.

[Glittering Thrust]

Like a beacon in the night my blade launches its beam of light into the air and tears through the branch that was coming right for me like a scythe.

A…a branch.

I give a huff.

Even with all these Lightborn powers, you’re still a jittery mutt, ain’t ya?

But then, my [Snoop] comes again into effect, and I notice the tiny being that’s fluttering above me, exactly where the branch just dropped fro-

SQUAK!

Ok. I’ve found my assassin.

“Look buddy, whatever you are, I ain’t got time for you right now. Just g-“

SQUAK!

I see the thing for what it is: a common Blue Tit, its wings flapping wildly as it screams above me.

“Listen,” I try again. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want a-“

SQUAK! SQUAK!

“Flutter off!” I shout.

In the face of my barking the thing decides to swoop down, dive bombing right into my nose, and gives me a sharp peck.

“OW!” I yelp, trying to swipe at it as it flies back again to settle on the dark branch of another tree. “What was that fo-“

You have gained the title: Birdkin.

You gain the following [Core Skills]:

[Comprehend Languages: Avian]

“Ah – yes – I – aha – hoho!” A tiny voice suddenly erupts, coming from the throat of the little bird as it puffs out its little blue chest. “Methinks – thee – can – understand – yes?”

The creature speaks quickly, as though every word is part of some taboo spell.

“Yeah,” I say, scratching at my punctured nose. “Well done. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m a little busy.”

The twitchy head of the thing flicks from side to side.

“You – are – Lightborn!” It exclaims. “Yes?”

I wheeze.

Birds. Honestly…Where’s a cat when you need one…

“Yeah, sure pal,” I say. “I’m the Lightborn. Praise be. And you don’t look like a wooden-zombie bird, so, if you’ll kindly just stop talking to me n-“

“Lightborn! Lightborn!” it shrieks. “I – bring – message – for – Lightborn!”

“Oh yeah? From who?”

“M-Master! Master – Solus – Wise – Solus – Clever – Solus – yes, yes!”

“Not a name I know or probably want to be associated with, considering that nature of his…servant.”

I turn tail, flashing my jiggly butt in the creature’s face.

SQUAK!

“Ok, look,” I snort. “Either you turn and fly away, or I’m gonna level up my sword skills on your beak.”

The little creature hops around in the odd way its kind do.

“I – I – must – deliver – message!” he chirps. “I – I – help – you – yes? Then – you – listen – message!”

I watch the thing as it jumps around, antsy, like someone’s watching us.

“Alright,” I finally decide. “I’ll bite. I’m looking for a tree. Uh, it’s called…what was it agai-“

“Ambergrut!” the winged rat cries. “I – know – Jelekar – know! Jelekar – help – Lightborn – Lightborn – hear – message - go – back – to – Elf. Then – Jelekar – home! Warm – fire – Master’s – lap – yes?”

He buzzes around me, humming with sudden excitement.

“Hang on, ha – have you been spying on me?”

The bird stops abruptly and cocks it’s little head.

“Spy?” it asks. “Spy? – spy – what – what – is – spy? – Jelekar – do – mission. Obey – Master. Search – woods – for – Lightborn. For – Raziel!”

I gotta admit, as annoying as the little guy is, this is getting more interesting by the minute.

Whoever this little pest’s Master is…he knows my name. The name of the Lightborn…

“Fine,” I say with a stout huff! “Show me where the tree is and I’ll hear your mes-“

“Yes – yes!” Jelekar shouts, spinning around my head once before shooting off down the forest. “Jelekar – mission – complete! Go – home! Yes! Home! Hoooooooome!”

I watch him go before following at speed, cursing myself for ever agreeing for search for this dumb tree.

Whatever this is, it better be worth it, Myra, I think as I run after my winged messenger. Otherwise – I’mma eat this bird.