> Rulah watched Lothian as the young man held the knitted wooden basket with both hands and worked tirelessly. The golden bear yawned, on his back, playing with grass and moss. “One won’t make a difference,” he mused. “You know that, buddy.”
>
> “It’s a matter of principles,” Lothian hissed as he thrust the basket into the river and pulled. He filled the basket with cold water and placed it on the ground, freeing his hands so that he could remove sweat from his forehead.“Wouldn’t you want help if your house was on fire?”
>
> “My house on fire?”
>
> The golden bear stared blankly at the young boy. He saw how serious those blue eyes were and laughed, flipping over to his side. He grabbed an oak-brown cone and pinched it between his claws, crushing it as easily as bending a twig.
>
> “Anyone who dares to set my family’s house burning surely must have a death wish,” he said. “They want to anger father? Go ahead, see what happens! I’d be surprised if they live to see the dawn of next day.”
>
> “That’s not what I mean,” Lothian growled back, his lips pursed. He tightened the leather clothing that concealed his private parts by pulling the two sinew strings that kept it together. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, knowing full well how impossible it was to get his friend to help out with anything unless it either was a hunt or an adventure.
>
> Rulah gradually stopped laughing and became silent. His feet, who were playfully sprawling in the air, were lowered.“Those intruders today…” He said. “They resembled you. A lot.”
>
> Lothian heard the golden bear and nodded slowly. He walked over, finding a large path of moss beside his friend where he sat down. He twitched and moved before getting a comfortable position. The ground was warm and dry, scorched by the sunlight that slipped through the canopy above. Small twigs and thin branches crunched under his quite large figure.
>
> “Hey Lothian, what do you think is out there?” Rulah asked. “Outside of the forest I mean.”
>
> The young boy swallowed hard, tugging to his earlobe. “Why?”
>
> “I’ve been thinking,” Rulah said and gazed down to the ground. He lowered his chin, touching his forehead. “Are you really from the forest? Is Serena really your mother?”
>
> Lothian instantly released the earlobe he was fumbling with. His heart stirred and his mind was at unease. Jerking left and right, the young boy searched for a new position, but every single one felt strange at the moment.
>
> “What do you mean?” He asked.
>
> “Lothian,” Rulah said without an expression. “It’s easy to see how different you are. It’s like comparing me to a treant!”
>
> “So what?” Lothian said, fidgeting with his hands.
>
> “Look, I don’t want to tell you what to do or anything, but don’t you want to find out about your origin? Don’t you want to meet your real parents?”
>
> “Serena is my mother.”
>
> “Fine, I won’t force you.” Rulah sighed and gave up on convincing his friend otherwise. He crawled to his feet and patted away the dirt of his golden fur. “But you know that prisoner we took. Maybe he knows where you’re from.”
>
> Lothian didn’t respond.
>
> “See you later.” the golden bear said and waved goodbye.
>
> "So tired..." It was dusk when Lothian dragged his battered self back to the village. The whole day was spent helping the forest dispatch extinguish the fire that had spread from the one-eyed vulture king’s land of death, which is why his limbs were heavier than lead and his mind more strained than the sinew strands of his leather garment. It was usually like this. He would expend all his energy during the day and come home exhausted. Of course, the next day, he would be even more filled with energy than the day before. As if he became stronger by breaking down his body and then rebuilding it with food and sleep.
>
> The gate of reinforced timber stood firm above him as he trudged through toward his home. His village was surrounded by thick timber poles, shielding from any enemy attack that may come. As he limped through the village, a waft brushed past his nose, bringing along the smell of grilled boar and aged Torae, the latter being a type of drink with properties making people tipsy and loose control over themselves.
>
> “Lothian!” an exhilarated song of chirping sounded out from the town square. It was his good friend Zerki, a rainbow bellbird who was very talented in magic. She was said to be the best seedling the rainbow bellbird family have had for hundreds of years, able to use elemental combinations of thunder and fire with even higher proficiency than the bellbird family leader, Grandpa Maki.
>
> Zerki sailed through the air smoothly. Her wings flapped so fast they turned into blurs. Landing on his shoulder, the small bird was perhaps as big as his palm, if not smaller. As she chirped, her ragged breath smelled of roasted meat and a lot of aged Torae. The huge amount was probably enough to make the most of her size unable to move for the rest of the night.
>
> Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
>
>
> “Been waiting for you! Come, join us! We’re celebrating the today’s victory!” She shouted in his ear and pointed toward the open fire in the town square not far from them.
>
> Lothian sighed. Sparks from the fire glistened in the moonlight and the laughter of diverse beasts rang out, filling the air with happiness. A fire was just what he needed after a long day such as this. But he shook his head. He wasn’t in the mood.“Sorry, Zerko. I’m absolutely exhausted, and my bed is too alluring.”
>
> “C’mon, Lothian, don’t be such party killer!”
>
> The bird insisted and used the claws of her feet to grab onto his long, golden hair, pulling a few locks as she tried to move him. However, he was like an unmoving mountain, not budging at all from her futile attempts.
>
> “Next time,” he said. “I promise.”
>
> She pouted, circling around him in the air a few times. She was stubborn but Lothian was even more so, which is why she knew it was of no use if he had decided not to come.
>
> Who else would fight with a golden bear, one of Rulah’s size, just because one couldn’t accept defeat? Who else, but him!
>
> “Suit yourself then. Don’t come and ask me to join next time. I won’t let you, even if you beg and plead!” the bellbird chirped in annoyance and flew back to the open fire with the rest of the young beasts celebrating the victory.
>
> Lothian sighed again and shrugged his shoulders. He took a quick glance at the town square before going home.
>
> He trotted into his humble home fast despite his exhaustion. It was just as he had left it. His low bed was shoved into the corner of the confined space and the fireplace he used during cold winters was in the middle, enclosed by a moat of protruding stones which would keep the fire from spreading once lit. There was a hole in the roof of the hut, and this is where the smoke would escape, allowing him to breathe properly even when the fire burned. He could also use the fire as under a stove, in which he could prepare dinner if necessary.
>
> He sealed the hut by covering the opening with a red piece of cloth that hung from the roof.
>
> “I really need to be more careful in the future,” Lothian grimaced as he nudged the gash to his chest. The wound wasn’t deep, but if left unattended it might cause an infection. Infections lead to sickness and sickness is bad.
>
> “Luckily, it’s not too deep. I can heal it myself.”
>
> He cleared his mind and began to enter a state of being one with the world, seeking to connect with the nearby light sprites. Sprites were beings of pure energy; without emotion or malice. The common man would forever stay oblivious to the existence of sprites while those who were able to see and sense them with the mind’s eye were called the ‘enlightened ones’. finally, those few who could draw upon their power through years of practice were called ‘Warriors’. Lothian was one, and so were his friends, Rulah and Zerki, the bellbird being most skilled.
>
> There. Not before long, a small dot of light poured out from the index finger of Lothian’s right hand. The dot slowly enlarged, soon a fist-sized light ball. He smiled and moved his hand to his chest, to the wound, and pressed softly. The ball of light slowly sunk into the gash, just as softly it had done when it appeared. At visible speed, the red and centimetre deep wound began to retract, leaving behind only a white scar as a remnant.
>
> Lothian undid the leather garment from his waist and laid it to rest beside the bed. The other wounds were superficial, not worth his time. He hopped into bed, his whole body yearning for sleep, and pulled a nearby blanket over himself.
>
> It had been a strange day today. His mind could not help but think back to the intruders. They were like him. Two legs, two arms, and walked upright. And this was the first time he had ever had seen someone like him, except for himself, of course.
>
> But why did Rulah’s father not want me to know about the attack? What could he possibly gain from concealing it from me? Is it because they were similar to me?
>
> He turned around in bed, pulling the blanket tighter across his body. His feet felt slightly cold even though it was summer.Strange. He curled up and flipped to his side, pushing his feet together and pressing. It was time to sleep. There was a new day tomorrow and he would need the rest. He closed his eyes and imagined small Rulahs jumping over clouds. Smiling, the young boy giggled from under the blanket and fell asleep.
>