He flew as fast as he could, broken and shamed. Ash stained his nares. His lungs and throat felt like smoked UgU-ala worms. His stomach was acid as he quivered in shock and hunger.

The village…

Ea-lE…

hU-U-te didn’t know which hurt more: the pain of losing his wife and children and everyone he ever knew and cared for, or the dishonor and shame that he’d been too slow and weak to stop the Sapphires in the first place.

It didn’t seem real.

hU-U-te kept looking up at the sky as he wove between the trees, watching for any Sapphire raiders. The thrum of his wings at his back was the only thing he could still feel. Everything else was cold and numb.

It would have been so easy to die. But there would be no honor in such a death, let alone justice.

The stalks of elU plants passed like pillars of an emerald earth.

The village was gone. Everyone was scattered. There was always a chance that some of the villagers had managed to fly to the village of some other Ruby clan, but, if that Sapphire shaman had spoken true, it wouldn’t be long before the Sapphire razed it to the ground and made its fledglings into wingless slaves.

hU-U-te almost missed the scent of fresh nectar. He had to shake his head and clack his slender beak to shake himself out of his despair enough to realize what he was smelling.

Food.

Defeated and harried though he was, the drive to live to fight another day was stronger still. With an ache and a groan, hU-U-te pushed himself forward, darting around the back of a large stalk, where he found and used a stray perch where could settle down. The branch caught him like an outstretched hand as he landed. He rested his free hand against the large, herbaceous trunk while his toes curled around the branch’s edge, digging his talons into plant-flesh.

Feathers bristling, he shook off clotted bloodstains and the grip of all the ash. His chest was a breastplate of fire and pain that spasmed, gently, with every breath. The tremor in his arm nearly caused him to drop his spear. He lunged forward in a panic, but managed to grab it just in time.

He let his eyes rest on the haft.

His father had given him the spear, just as his father’s father had given it to him, and on and on, passed down through the generations. The story was it had been used to slay a bull gU-lUte that had once called the glade home, and in whose death the village had been established. hU-U-te had long dreamed of the day when he would pass it on to his son, tesU. He wanted to share the joy of flight with him, but now, he never would. His son would never find his heartsong, nor a mate to share it with. He’d never feel the thrill of arriving at a lek, or of discovering the god that was closest to his heart. He’d never savor summer’s sweetest nectars, nor taste the bliss of bringing new life into the world.

hU-U-te trembled with emotion. He mumbled beneath his breath. “He wasn’t even a fledgling…”

He imagined what his mother would have said if she were still alive.

You can always find another, son. Love is a kind lE. It isn’t so cruel as to only strike once.

Fuck that, hU-U-te thought.

With a yell, he plunged his spear into the giant stalk. Latex trickled out from the wound, gooey and white.

Love could strike him a thousand times over, and it wouldn’t make a difference. Ea-lE was his jewel and star. His heartsong was for her, and her alone.

And now, she was gone.

Drooping his wings and tail feathers, hU-U-te finally let himself weep, but even that brought him grief. He wanted to belt his rage onto the night—to wake the forest whole, to rattle the stars in the deep of the sky.

But he couldn’t. Yelling brought risk. If an enemy twEfE found him—even one of his own people—he’d have to fight for his life. So instead, he grieved in silence, his head low, his beak pressed against his chest.

Out of the corner of his eye, hU-U-te caught a glimpse of a soft blue bioluminescence down near the base of the elU’s stalk. He flinched at the sight; for a moment, he’d thought it was an enemy shaman’s not-light, but no, it was just a clam, waving its glowing feeder-tendrils through the air, hoping to snag a passing meal.

Ea-lE had been weaving a vest for him, made from byssus. The fibers the tree clams grew to anchor themselves to branches and trunks made for the finest clothes, far softer and warmer than the rough linens made from the fibers of elU leaves.

Like everything else, the vest had burned up along with the rest of the village.

Leaning back against the stalk, hU-U-te raised his head to the sky, gazing up through a gap in the canopy.

It was so… beautiful, and even heartbreak could tarnish that. He just wished he still had someone to share it with. Dawn was still an egg, lurking at the horizon’s edge. Above it, the galactic arm poured across the sky in lustrous, milky trails.

He wondered if anyone was looking back.

He and Ea-lE had had their nuptial flight beneath a sky like this. They’d danced beneath the starlight, wind’s song streaking through their tail feathers as they chased and sang, the star-struck world revolving around the two of them as if they were its center.

And now, she was gone.

The hunger pangs rocking hU-U-te’s stomach dragged him back to the unbearable present.

At least he could smell some nectar nearby.

Following the scent, hU-U-te left his embedded spear and leapt from branch to branch, fluttering his wings to span the gaps. Though dawn wasn’t far off, it was still dark enough that he needed Uehea’s help to light his way. He remembered his father’s words: never guide yourself by clamlight alone.

With a swipe of his hand and the feeling of sunshine warming his limbs, hU-U-te summoned a sacred web. He viewed the web through his second eyelids, and it glistened as he willed it to fold. Only when the web closed in on itself did its not-light finally shine true and pierce the shadows, illuminating a broad, red elU-flower. The familiar ultraviolet trails on its petals seemed to phosphoresce in the divine light. Turning his head toward the scent of sugar, with a mournful chirp hU-U-te stuck his beak into the flower’s depths, He flicked his tongue, sucking up the nectar with greedy abandon. He had hoped the sweetness would have taken the edge out of his pain, but, if anything, it only made him feel worse.

Stolen novel; please report.

After a couple minutes, hU-U-te could feel the strength starting to trickle back into his limbs. Once he emptied the flower of its nectar, he leapt off the branch and hovered up to a cluster of even larger elU-flowers overhead and drank his fill, not stopping until the weight of the fluid sloshing around in his belly forced him to quicken his wingbeats to compensate for it.

He figured he’d had enough to be able to fly at least until midday.

But, where could he go? Whom could he turn to? If the Sapphires were targeting Ruby villages, then no place was safe for him. Not knowing how far he’d have to fly to reach safety, it was only prudent to fill himself with as much nectar as he could.

He just hoped it would be enough.

Flying back around the stalk with the Goddess’ light to guide him, hU-U-te pulled his spear free from the branch where he’d left it, pushing off the stalk with his feet as he pried it loose, and fluttering his wings to counteract his momentum as the weapon sprang free. Clenching it tightly by the haft, hU-U-te settled down on the edge of perch with his thighs tensely crouched.

And then he closed his eyes and prayed.

Ela-tU, Golden Herald, Lord Most High, lend me your strength. Guide my dreams. Help me. Help me make this right.

He hoped the God of War would give him the strength and the opportunity to get justice for those he had lost. He wanted to believe that the Herald’s prophecy of a great victory against the Sapphires would still prove true.

Suddenly, he heard a sound like thunder and lightning, but one that came from below, instead of from the cloudless night overhead.

What was that?

He shook his wings in surprise.

Alert, and with a full belly, hU-U-te shrank the light-web to a point with a gesture of his free hand, shrouding himself in the ambient darkness. He crouched low, bouncing on his tensed thighs, tail feathers bristling, ready to leap into flight at a moment’s notice.

Even here, in the forest’s depths, enemies could be anywhere. If it wasn’t a twEfE from a hostile clan, it could be a prowling beast, perhaps a gU-lUte, or, worst of all, a hrE-hrE-a—a harrier. Those unearthly beasts stalked the not-light of the world, feasting on the Gods’ energies. A harrier had stolen the mind of hU-U-te’s first apprentice. It had struck the poor lad while he’d slept, leaving him a gibbering shell of a twEfE, barely able to move or speak.

Harriers. The constant skirmishes between twEfE bands. The cursed hunger woven into their very bodies. It was as if there was a lE that existed just to keep twEfE trapped in misery. What was the point of devoting your life farming nectar, claiming territory and building community if the savage, fickle world snatched it away at the flap of a wing?

hU-U-te tightened his grip on his spear. The ancestral weapon was a vow the past had made to the future. It was the hopes his forefathers had placed in their sons. To pass the spear was to pledge your strength and wisdom to the one who received it. That was why he lived, wasn’t it? To bring new life into the world and leave them happier than those who had come before? But always, always, misery came swooping down and dashed it all to pieces.

Would it ever end?

At that moment, hU-U-te swore an oath. He swore to himself and to the gods that he would never again let misery catch him off guard.

“I will not suffer this pain again.” His wings quaked with feeling. “I would rather die than bear that.”

Right then and there, he swore to end it for good.

Again, he heard that sound: thunder and lightning, from somewhere in the darkness of the green. But this time, he was ready for it, following the sound with a twitch of his head. Down below, he saw something unlike anything he’d ever seen before: a great web, in the shape of a tunnel—or perhaps a tunnel, in the shape of a web.

Whatever it was, when he slid his second eyelids down, he saw it swirling with not-light brighter than even the heart of thundercloud.

And it didn’t wane.

Breathing in deep, hU-U-te leapt off the branch, his wings beating too quickly to be seen. He dove down, expanding the web-orb of true-light at his side. Shadows looked over the forest floor as he darted around the elUs’ green trunks.

When the gods had begun their dream and made the world, the great gods of Night and Day had each blessed their dream with a light of their own.

Day’s gift was true-light, and with it, the miracle of the sight. True-light gave the world its shapes and colors. It was how hU-U-te knew the faces of those he loved, and how he could bask in the glory of the sunrise when a new day dawned.

Night’s gift was not-light, and the miracle of spiritual sight. Not-light cast no shadows, nor chased away the dark, but that was not its purpose. Not-light was a gift to all creation—and, above all, to the twEfE. To see not-light was to bear witness to the webs of lEs the gods had woven to uphold the world. Not-light was the gods’ presence within their dreams made visible. To commune with it was to beseech the gods to intervene on behalf of their lE. You only needed to ask.

Even a fledgling could do it.

And the stronger the not-light shined, the stronger the connection it offered.

hU-U-te had never seen not-light as strong as this. He flew toward it like a gnat toward a flame.

Had Ela-tU answered his prayers?

If he could get this light to listen to him, no Ruby would ever have to live in fear.

hU-U-te slowed his wingbeats as he landed, digging his toes into the moss-covered forest floor.

The not-light’s source was on the other side of an elU’s broad trunk. The air seemed to buzz as hU-U-te stepped around it. The buzz sank through his feathers and his down, until his whole body tingled. The orb-web light hovering at his side twisted and flickered, as if Uehea was stirring.

And then, he saw it. In his shock, hU-U-te dropped his spear. The weapon hit the ground with a soft, muffled thud.

hU-U-te didn’t know if there was a word for what he saw. The simplest thing would be to call it a Door—UenU-ta—only it was a door forever opened: a hole in the air, like the sky door in the roof of his nest, only without any walls. The Door’s rim was circular; a claw-gash in the air that slowly revolved. Through it, he saw a vast expanse of orange sand beneath a pitch-black sky, lit by a red light as dull as dried blood. The dark sky within seemed to grow darker still as dawn slowly crept into the forest.

Intricate patterns of not-light crackled around the Door. There were shapes like ferns’ leaves, or a river delta as seen from high above; endless streams of dusty triangles spun and shrunk, multiplying like thoughts.

Yet, perhaps most impossible of all was the object that floated in front of the Door, several body lengths away. It looked like a kind of weapon. It was not natural, that much, he knew. Someone had made it, some great power, more powerful than anything hU-U-te could imagine. The air throbbed near it, heavy with a pungent scent, like the sky after a storm.

A couple of silver strands emerged from the weapon’s handle, converging in a cusp that formed its tip, slowly revolving. The not-light ran forward from Door’s rim to the weapon’s tip, where it attached like thread to a spindle. And as bright as the Door’s not-light was, the Blade’s not-light was brighter still. Light—true-light—intermingled with its magic, glowing in all the colors of the rainbow. The gods’ dreamstuff emulsified into glistening droplets that trickled down the Blade’s revolving strands like battle-wine from the slain. The droplets fell to the ground with preternatural slowness. They crystallized as they fell, landing softly on the ground as dark, semi-opaque gems. The gems glowed with not-light, as bright as a Uelea’s lE.

In wonder, the broken, tribeless twEfE shaman approached. Kneel before the divine blade, he picked up one of the dark crystals and held it in his claws. The instant he touched it, his body flooded with the power of a thousand gods, and in that moment, hU-U-te knew the world would never be the same again.

His prayer had been answered. The dream would be realized.

It was the dawn of a new age had begun, and hU-U-te swore that the Rubies would make that age their own, however long it took. And by Ela-tU’s might, his people would be avenged.