A blue bird's wings fluttered in the rough winds as it perched atop the mast of a ricketing ship, easing its way into port. It's hull was littered with cracks and its sails torn asunder, partly by the wind, and the other part a mystery. Markings along the ship's sides revealed the existence of battles fought against viscious claws.

Before the voyage had began, both the ship and crew were bursting with vigor and ambition, but now, only a bit more than half of their number could be counted, and their expresions dictated a rather somber mood. They groaned across the deck at one another, as the pier approached their sight. Only breaths of relief and exhaustion could be accounted from the change in scenery.

The bluebird's eyes somehow seemed to be in a bad mood as well. For it had also been a part of the terribly horrific journey filled with fright and uncertainty for the past seven months. Those seven months spent on the open ocean; facing waves the size of hills, fish that ate men whole, and terrifying monsters the likes of which had never been seen before in the old continent. These were truly traumatising events, and would have one wondering how the pioneers of this supposed "short route" managed to not only remain sane while discovering them, but also keep going all those thousands of years ago.

The bird blinked dirily.

Although, in truth, "it", or rather, "he" was less of a bird and more of a man.

It was astonishing thing to assume, the small bird which sat there quite innocently, was in actuality a young human male. And yet it was true. His name was Lode, but his story was not equally as simple.

Not seeking the vast fortunes to be had in this "new world", but instead running away from a past life; which was a boring, repetitive, and exhausting blur of delivering crate after crate, package after package,  The sad fate of most shapeshifter mages aligned to flight-bound creatures. Those with affinity to landbound fauna were actually often paid quite handsomely and more favored by the many merchants, especially if they had an ability to haul goods across The Old Continent's terrain, or even have others ride on their backs! It wasn't all too often that an avian-mage could carry someone, or even had the size to suggest it, however.

They often just focused on making themselves faster to get whatever message or letter they had delivered, instead of cultivating their bodies to retain more magic for bigger transformations. It was even worse that Shapeshifter-mages were innately bound to their own magic, physically. If one chose to augment the mana within themselves to store in larger amounts and thus have larger body transformations, they lose the ability to compact their mana and bodies to be more speedier, smaller, lithe, and agile, and vice versa.

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That wasnt to say you couldn't try and do both whenever you wanted. Yet for that, one would need to repetitively destroy their cultivation in one aspect to favor the other, which to say the least, was fatal for any mage, shapeshifter or not.

Which led to Lode's current predicament...

As a child he had admired the awe inspiring enormity of the many magical creatures of Thea; dragons that could engulf swathes of land in fire, elemetals that shook the land with each step, and even the giant mechanical creations of the legendary dwarves. He had grown such an appreciation for the grandiosity of it all that he himself wanted to be big too. That was understandable, right?

A kid's dreams were a kid's dreams after all, but there wasn't much he could do about it after he had actually begun cultivating in that manner earnestly at a young age. The parental figures that had told him such wild tales, and whom would have taught him otherwise;  were, one day, abruptly absent from his life.

Yet after a decade of working and cultivating his magic and mana capacity, to achieve his dream and ideal of quite litteraly making it big, he was stuck with exhausting, and stressful, menial tasks like delivering large, heavy loads though the air, unlike his bretheren who specialized in quick delivery. Sometimes even a "good job" was a crate his own size! It was that, or other odd chores. Which wore on him more and more as the days progressed, tiring him greatly, and damaging his psyche.

There were even moments that stress had a near disastrous effect on his mana cultivation. Leading him to curse his own childhood ambitions. In another life, he could have even been a good merchant had he not invested so much into this goal of his.

In the end he could only sigh. After all it was not completely the fault of his magic, phisiology, or even occupational choice for that matter. He had a massive debt hanging over his head.

His little eyes scanned the the pier in a curious manner. Many men and women bustled along the docks and the wide streets behind, walking in and out of numerous establishments, or into loud , boisterous taverns. Everyone looked hard and rugged to some extent, as he'd expected of anyone who'd mannaged to cross he primeival sea. But what drew his attention the most, were the respendantly colored flags and banners which were placed over buildings, draped where all could see, and pridefully displaying any multitude of mascot animals or symbols.

They were Guild Flags.

He stared listlessly at the colorful scene which looked like some outlandish festival, untill a voice registered in his ears from below.

"Hoy! Bird, get down here and help me out will ya! Or I'll just be throwing your stuff overboard!" A harsh, brash, but feminine voice yelled from the deck.

He looked down to see the fierce gaze of his creditor staring back up at him.