Chapter 42 - Gratitude

“Seven left.”

What began as a sigh instead turned into a barely audible grunt as Skyle grit his teeth and grimaced in spite of himself. Half a day had already passed since he had first started feeding Birdy, as he’d taken to calling the baby bird. During this time Skyle had been exploring the confines of the nest and raking his brain for any ways to escape his prison.

Looking up at the head warden, Skyle only grunted to himself, unsurprised to see that the mother bird had still not moved a single inch from its lofty perch above. It was truly a majestic sight to behold, as the great bird was easily twenty feet long from head to tail. This made it one of the largest beasts he had ever beheld, let alone heard of. Not that it was simply a massively sized brute. The whole length of the beast glittered under the fading sun, its feathers like glistening jewels covering the magical beast in a shroud of mystery and grandeur. Every inch of it was grace and elegance, and unlike some other beasts whose great size would hamper their mobility, every line and contour of this great bird of prey screamed of speed and agility. It was as though nature had engineered the perfect avatar to symbolize those traits.

At the moment, however, it sat immobile as a statue, impassive to the repeated lessons Skyle carved into her young hatchling’s still malleable mind. The lessons came at a dear price, for Skyle more than to the student in question, Birdy. After all, every time it misbehaved Skyle would use another swift rap of his flashing stick to deliver a stinging reminder to the little fellow. These weren’t the problem. Instead, it was the increasingly more frequent times when Birdy behaved well enough to warrant a reward that Skyle had begun to dread far more deeply as he constantly checked on the dwindling supply of elemental essence crystals in his pouch.

Making some quick calculations, Skyle guessed at the current pace, he wouldn’t last a day. It wasn’t that Skyle was not aware of this ruthless math every time he doled out another crystal candy to the increasingly more enthusiastic Birdy. However, the fragile relationship between them was tenuous enough that Skyle knew any unexpected shortage in the supply of the delicious snacks would quickly and quite irreversibly shatter the fragile compromise they had reached.

Crunching sounds came from where Birdy currently squatted on the ground, not three feet away from Skyle. The young boy had intentionally reduced the gap between the feeding bird and himself, knowing that while this distance was a good meter of how accepting of his dominance Birdy truly was, wild animals, especially particularly strong ones, would heavily guard their space while they were feeding, and thus vulnerable.

It had cost Skyle over half his crystals so far for Birdy to accept this grudging compromise between respect and obedience, as Skyle crouched near enough to the baby bird of prey that one sudden lunge might mean the end of the young farm boy. As it was, Birdy pretended to ignore Skyle, and more pointedly, the stick in his hand as it continued to peck at the crystal in its claws.

The sight of this baby bird’s seemingly fragile beak smashing against the hard surface of the essence crystal with impunity was still a mind boggling sight to Skyle. After all, these were essence crystals. He had worked with such crystals for many years at his family’s farm. It had to be known that elemental essence crystals were some of the hardest materials he knew of, far sturdier than rock or even steel! His family usually worked with the same set of crystals for months, sometimes years at a time, and the only reason they needed to replace them was because of the way their snowblade tigers charged them with elemental essence.

They used their fangs, grinding them against the crystals throughout the day like dogs would gnaw on bones. Skyle always wondered why they did so. Judging from the other blades they could project from their bodies at will, Skyle knew that they didn’t need to grind them in order to keep the edges sharp. Each of their blades were already bestowed by nature of an alarmingly sharp edge as it was. Neither did Skyle think, as many scholars seemed to believe, that they did it in order to curb their growth. Personally, he was more inclined to believe they were merely grooming them, making them smoother and prettier. Snowblade tigers were first of all lazy, then smart, and right after that came vain. They were incredibly proud and egotistical creatures, and this was reflected in their care of their fangs. Usually, the larger the fangs grew, the higher the status of that particular cat was in the pride. They were a snowblade tiger’s pride and deadliest weapon, after all.

Snowblade tigers had twin razor sharp fangs protruding from their jaws. His father had explained that these were made of crystallized elemental essence rather than mere bone. Thus, not only were they anything but hollow or brittle, but could be considered one the toughest substances Skyle had seen in his young life. They could slice through cold iron like a knife through butter, as many amateur crystal hunters would find, much to their eternal regret, when they attempted to trap a snowblade tiger using regular iron or steel traps. The canny beasts would pretend to be caught and vulnerable, cleverly luring their so-called hunters into a false sense of security, then instantly slice through all the restraints as though they were made paper, then tear through any protective armor they wore with the same ease.

Skyle knew all this, not only because of what the adults had told him, but because he had once witnessed the terrible aftermath of one such hunting party himself. He had spent entire weeks shuddering at night after that horrific scene, even going as far as shunning the company of his family’s tigers. Only Ash and his patient, steadfast companionship had gotten him through that.

Now, Skyle supposed, watching intently as Birdy almost delicately shattered another corner off the essence crystal in its claws, he had met yet another terrifying beast that regarded essence crystals as nothing more than a nutritious chew toy.

Blithely unaware of all these thoughts, Birdy happily continued to snack on Skyle’s hard-earned essence crystals. After a while, and not for the first time, Skyle glanced towards the mother bird while wondering why Birdy seemed so starved for essence crystals.

There were plenty of bone residues once Skyle had begun tentatively exploring the nest. The remains of consumed prey were scattered here and there, enough that Skyle could see a pattern emerge. Usually, a large indentation where they had been presumably dropped, then large branches scattered about as though a brief struggle had ensued. The rest of it, which amounted to brown flecks and splatter patterns of matted blood, had been easy enough to identify. However, what puzzled Skyle was that none of these marks were recent. The most recent one he had found had to be at least a couple weeks old.

That prompted the question: What could possibly force this great predator to neglect the feeding of her offspring? Why was she still not acting now that Skyle had repeatedly attacked her young? Far from being alarmed or worried, it seemed as though the mother bird was still patiently waiting for something else to happen.

Skyle was still ruminating on such questions when Birdy’s shrill call jerked him up. Turning to face the greedy little bird and its now empty claws, Skyle’s expression was one of helplessness as Birdy began to eagerly flap its wings and tilt its head towards the pack on the little boy’s back.

Finally, it had come to this. Skyle was very reluctant to try it, but he had decided he needed to take some risks.

“No,” Skyle said in a firm voice, shaking his head and holding his hand out with the palm facing the little bird’s confused look. “No more for today. You’ve had enough.”

As Birdy examined Skyle’s stance and processed his tone, the little boy could almost see the tiny cogs turning behind the little bird’s uncannily intelligent eyes. The excited caws suddenly turned into angrier, more demanding cries as it slowly got to its feet and rose to tower over Skyle. With Birdy’s eight feet frame, he easily assumed a threatening stance while glaring down at Skyle’s relatively pathetic five feet height.

Skyle didn’t allow his facial expression to so much as twitch as he slowly lifted the stick in his hand and waved it under Birdy’s glaring eyes, almost as though to give him a better look at it.

“You heard me. No more for today, you will get more tomorrow,” Skyle repeated in the same firm tone.

This whole time, Skyle had a strange suspicion that Birdy could somehow understand most of his words instead of merely reading his body language and tone. Thus, he had stopped calling it fatty or glutton, and instead begun to talk to it as he would a regular person. His experience with Ash had taught him that there were magical beasts which were far more intelligent than even some regular people.

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Birdy cried out shrily in protest, and it spread its wings in a threatening matter, its brown feathers flaring out in what might be interpreted as a threatening gesture. However, Skyle had the benefit of the True Sight. Under his watchful gaze, Birdy’s aura was filled with a yellow tinge that gave the feeling of extreme caution, along with muddled tones of blue and purple which Skyle assumed was sadness or disappointment. After having to stake his survival on the information garnered from the True Sight so many times in the past few days, Skyle had quickly learned to not only rapidly process and interpret this information, but also heavily rely on it.

Now, Skyle almost constantly relied on the True Sight. At first, it had been a struggle to keep it functioning as it steadily drew upon his stamina and focus reserves. However, with practice Skyle was now able to instantly and effortlessly switch the sight on or off at a moment’s notice, therefore keeping the drain at its lowest. This had been one of his most important harvests in terms of survival skills so far, even more valuable than the ability to extend the True Sight’s range in a cone instead of a broad semicircle in front of him.

“Don’t test me, Birdy. You know it won’t end well for you,” Skyle stated firmly, his gaze not wavering in the slightest against Birdy’s threats.

Perhaps it was the many lessons Skyle’s stick had already inflicted on the young bird, or maybe it was something about Skyle’s confident stance or his steely-eyed gaze. Regardless, in the end Birdy seemed to slowly deflate, likely considering that this must be the strangest prey its mother had ever brought back to the nest.

As the sun finally set over the horizon, Skyle sat on an improvised mat he had fashioned from the smaller, softer twigs lying about. As he carefully unwrapped the bandages over his wounded leg, Skyle was both surprised to see that the injury was showing clear signs of recovering at an incredible speed, and yet also disappointed when he realized Leon’s magic had definitely failed, as it clearly was still far from healing completely. Only the potion seemed to have some effect, and thus Skyle dutifully cleaned the wound with some water from one flask, then reapplied more medicine to the area. Finally, he carefully replaced the bandage.

Thankfully, Skyle had been taught by his father in many survival skills, and one of his first lessons had been to ensure that each member had his own personal stash of supplies. Thus, Skyle and Leon had split most of the items evenly, including the medicinal supplies and the crystals. While he had not expected to be separated from Leon in such a dramatic fashion, Skyle was once again grateful to his father’s lessons, which had already saved his life many times over.

“Here I thought all you wanted was for me to grow up to be strong like you, Da,” Skyle whispered to himself, looking up into the distance. “I thought it was all so darned unfair.”

Suddenly, as Skyle thought of all the times he had broken into bitter tears or cursed at his father for his relentless training, for all the bruises and cuts and hardships that were the standard fare under his mentorship, a sourness spread across his nose and his eyes began to sting.

“I never understood why.”

By the time other children were learning to ride a horse, Skyle had already hunted his first pack of stone wolves. When they were feeding their chickens, Skyle had been staring down malcontent snowblade tigers as he led snatched filled essence crystals from jaws twice the size of his chest.

Staring down at his broken leg, at the torn skin of his fingers where the bowstring had worn it raw, at the torn fingernails and his own shaking hands, Skyle’s voice now contained a barely repressed sob that choked his voice.

“I’m sorry Da, so sorry.” Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Skyle wiped the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand, but more kept rolling down his face until he finally gave up.

“I think it is only now that I finally understand what you meant about the world being cruel and unfair. About needing strength to protect the ones you love. To keep mom and Kass and Reik and Ash, all of them safe, and away from places..”

His blurry eyes spanned a slow, deliberate circle around the desolate landscape all around him, bathed in the dying light of a sun that even now threatened to desert him, just like everything else Skyle had taken for granted a mere couple days ago.

“Places like this,” Skyle finished, and his chest heaved as he thought of all the deaths, all the killing. Of the blood he himself had spilled, and what his mother would think when she found out. If she found out at all, that is. Skyle couldn’t help but conjure up the horrified gazes of his younger siblings, Reik and Kass, as they heard of the terrible things he had been forced to do in order to survive. Eyes that had once held nothing but love and admiration would now be filled with horror and revulsion.

“I can’t do this anymore!” Skyle remembered once screaming up at his father while kneeling on the ground after collapsing from sheer exhaustion, in between tears of anger and frustration at the brutal, relentless training. “What kind of father are you? Why do you hate me? Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you are my son, and I love you, and because I must,” had been his father’s flat, startlingly unapologetic answer. “Now get up and do it again.”

A tightness spread around his chest that made it hard to breathe, and Skyle found that it was almost easier not to fight, not to struggle, to simply sit there and tell his lungs not to move. Only then, was the pain bearable. But Skyle was no stranger to pain, and no coward either.

Taking a deep breath that raked his chest with fire, Skyle lifted his eyes to the indifferent sky once again.

“I’m sorry Da. I’m sorry I never understood, not really. I wish.. I wish I could see you one more time, tell you face to face, that I’m sorry and that I’m grateful. But I don’t know if I will. I wish I could, if only for one more time. But, I don’t think I can. I tried and tried and tried so hard, but I’m just so little, and the world is so big. I’m trying but it’s not working anymore, nothing is. Leon is gone, Leena too. I don’t even know how they will survive this world without my sight, and I can’t even worry about them because now I’m trapped and alone and I can’t think of anything anymore. I just don’t understand why this is happening. Why me?”

It all came out as a great flood of all the complaints and questions that had been roiling in his mind, slowly drowning him under their implacable weight. Never had Skyle felt more alone and helpless as this moment, sitting sprawled on top of this towering monolith as darkness encroached upon the land and a vast silence offered no answers to all his questions.

Instead, a cold wind blew against his back and sent involuntary shudders running through his whole body. Skyle huddled in a miserable ball as he hugged his own shoulders and burrowed deeper into the pile of kindling. It was of no use, as the cold grew even more intense and his teeth began chattering.

Suddenly, movement at the edge of his vision startled Skyle awake from his consternation. Turning his head, the shadow of motion turned out to be Birdy. It tilted its head in askance towards Skyle, clearly a question in its eyes that lay beyond the small boy’s ability to interpret. Still, he could take a guess.

“I said, no more crystals for today,” Skyle growled angrily, suddenly feeling as though the bird was the root cause for all this troubles and suffering.

Birdy crooned softly as it shook its head at him, still watching intently.

“I said no more crystals, damn you! Go away!” Skyle screamed for what seemed the first time in a long time, venting his anger and frustration.

Birdy watched Skyle with disquieting intensity as it refused to back down, drawing closer to Skyle step by step.

Raising his stick in a threatening manner, Skyle rapidly made to rise. However, the sudden motion sent a surge of pain screaming up his leg, and he was spent sprawling off his feet. Alarmed, Skyle tried to roll sideways, but his feet became tanged in one of the branches nearby. The best he could manage was to lift his torso off the ground with one hand while raising his stick with the other in a puny attempt to stave off any attacks from a beak that could shatter essence crystals. If the situation weren’t nearly so desperate, he would have laughed at how ridiculous it must have looked.

As it was, Skyle was panting raggedly as he stared at Birdy with the True Sight, all the while desperately tugging on his trapped leg. The burst of colors hit his mind more clearly than his real sight, and his eyes widened as he slowly lowered his stick.

“Birdy..”

Birdy didn’t make any more noises as it slowly approached Skyle until its height towered over the little boy. However, Skyle’s look was one of surprise, and even more, of embarrassment, as he silently dropped the stick he had been holding in a white-knuckled death grip.

Birdy didn’t even glance towards the fallen stick as it plopped down to the ground like it usually did when it wanted to take a nap. However, before dozing off the baby bird carefully lifted one of its wings to drape over Skyle’s shivering figure. Glancing down to make sure it had done a proper job of it, Birdy seemed to give a nod of self-satisfaction before promptly closing its eyes and once again drifting off to sleep so swiftly that Skyle didn’t even have a chance to react, let alone give his thanks.

Skyle’s shaking hand gradually came to rest upon the wing that lay over him, feeling an unexpected warmth coming from inside his own chest that was surprisingly even more comforting than the snug shelter of Birdy’s feathers.

“Thank you,” Skyle whispered softly, seemingly speaking to no one in particular.

Birdly only gave an irritated shake of its feathers, as though reacting to the noise of a buzzing fly, before promptly resuming its slumber.

To his surprise, wrapped within the warm embrace of the giant bird who had been trying to eat him only a few hours ago, Skyle found that sleep was not so hard to come by, after all.