Time back on the road had given Hearne the time and focus needed to calm down and think about what happened in his dream and Hearne could honestly say that he was a fool for immediately trusting the words of such an obviously malevolent creature but that did not make the threat of his impending arrival any less true in his mind but first, he needed to find a God of Dreams who could perhaps limit Balor's influence to only dreams as that was where he had encountered Balor but if Balor's words could be believed then he had two pairs of eyes that could watch the Joestar family for any signs of his possession, The reason for why he could be found in a simple phrase. 'Hope for the best and prepare for the worst' He wished to believe that Balor's words were a lie, but there was always a sneaking suspicion that his words were true and maybe that was what the demon wanted, for Hearne to doubt himself and descend into a spiral of madness and mistrust but Hearne did the best thing that he could do at the time which was to convince two animals that would serve as his eyes and ears when it comes to the Joestar family so when Balor probably possesses Jonathan he could put a stop to it.

"Master, please take your mind off of this exhausting affair." Ahearn, the faithful stallion said to his master, concerned for his master's mental health and, quite frankly, annoyed at his master's over-worrying antics.

With a sharp exhale of breath, Hearne responded, "Alright fine, I will put this matter to rest and move forward." He said certain of his word and he continued on the road while putting it out of his mind by convincing himself that any mention of Balor gave him more and more influence in his dreams, yes that was a very believable excuse.

"Hold on a moment," Hearne exclaimed, his voice echoing through the air as he sat proudly on his majestic black stallion. It was at that moment, after all the chaos and excitement, that he finally recalled his dear friend, Órlaith, who seemed to have gone missing.

"She is dead, master," Ahearn, the loyal stallion, answered with as little emotion in his voice as possible, as if to further drive the point into his, at times, thick skull, that Órlaith was dead.

With a look of bewilderment on his face, Hearne turned to his stalwart stallion and asked, "How? When did she die?" As he pondered the timing of her demise, a sudden realization dawned on him. It must have been when he fled the demon-infested town. The image of her being torn apart and mangled by those fiends filled him with fury, though he also found solace in the memory of him and Jojo banding together to defeat them. However, it left a dark mark on his conscience. He had always struggled with his anger, reflected in incidents like when he had killed his grandfather's sacred red deer and his recent outburst in the town. It was a facet of himself that he intended to address under better circumstances, but for now, his concern was focused on what to do with Órlaith.

Stolen novel; please report.

"You can do whatever you want, master."

"Even resurrecting dead animals?" Hearne asked himself, not really paying attention to his stallion anymore. He was wondering if he could do that. He resolved that he would never know unless he tried, so he stopped Ahearn on the road and he found a small river nearby, and sat on the shore, he grabbed a small amount of clay and shaped it into a vaguely bird-like form and he immediately fell in a trance, absorbed in his recent venture, his hands moved carefully and elegantly as he slowly and surely he molded the clay into a detailed replica based on his memory of his golden friend. Some small woodland creatures endeavored to leave their home in the bushes to watch this act of creation with great interest. The young god did not notice them; he was more focused on his creation. Finally, the clay replica was complete.

He paused, feeling the weight of his exhaustion as he wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. Taking a moment to appreciate the intricacies of his craft, he exhaled deeply, unaware of the profound consequence of his breath. Unintentionally, his breath seemed to infuse life into the once-pliable clay replica. As time passed, the clay hardened, resembling stone, and began to tremble with almost violent energy until it abruptly ceased, giving way to a series of fractures that propagated through its form. Finally, Órlaith, the golden bird emerged from the shattered remnants of her confinement, her gaze meeting that of her creator once more.

"How do you feel, Órlaith?" Hearne asked, his curiosity piqued. He was eager to discern whether this Órlaith was the same one he had gifted to him by his divine grandfather, or if she was a completely new being created solely from his abilities. Based on what he had just witnessed, it seemed like a merging of both, as he had reformed her using his memories of her and had also shaped her using his powers alone.

"I feel unique and reinvigorated" Orlaith expressed slowly as she was relearning how to speak following a long period of silence and so for the sake of convenience he had reforged the mental connection that he once had with her where she had a much easier time expressing her thoughts while her body was given the time it needed to recover from the shock of being reborn and he expanded it to include Ahearn as well.

The young god was soon approached by a small contingent of individuals who belonged to a race similar to humans in appearance. These beings were tall, had fair skin, long blonde hair that reached their neck, enchanting green eyes, and pointed ears. Upon revealing themselves, they humbly knelt before the god.

A female of this unfamiliar species who Hearne guessed was the leader said to the youthful god "Oh Great Lord of Beasts, please accept us as your loyal worshippers?"