Rick sat cross-legged, carving away at the statue in his hand. Warm flickering flames his only light, calming and reassuring. The flickering of blinking crystals far above, contrasting starkly with the vast void surrounding them. A dark canvas of beauty and horror, a thing to get lost in, to admire, to fear, to love, to hate. Darkness bringing out both true beauty and true horror.

A little beast rested its head lazily on a rock besides Rick, tiredly gnawing at a piece of meat in its many-teethed jaw, staring interestingly at the statue Rick was carving. Bob lying in between Rick’s leg, mouth opened, snoring soundlessly as he slept calmly. Rick himself, focused on carving, bearing a light heart and a small smile on his face, a smile reaching up to his eyes.

It was a calm night, wind like the slowest of ebbs, snow like a comfortable mat. The sounds of night being but distant, calming music. The scratches of knife against wood, like the beating of drums. Rick enjoying himself, letting himself go as he carved the statue. A statue soon to be finished, a statue soon to be used for a test, a test he’d put off for a little too long after learning that Bob was, well, here.

Though, he did not blame himself. A dance and party wasn’t something one usually regrets.

Two nights had passed since learning of Bob, and he could no longer push aside his safety, their safety. And to keep them safe, he would need to learn, to comprehend, to understand how he created his statues, how he gave them powers. A miracle, yes, but a miracle he’d made several times. He felt that he should- must be able to recreate.

So that was what he was doing, carving away with a heart at ease. Carving his earlier bird he hadn’t completed yet, but would now finish quickly. He enjoyed carving, but he enjoyed solving a problem that would keep him safe just a little more.

The night continued on like that, Rick carving with a beast staring, weirdly invested, bobbing its head up and down with each stroke of the knife, eyes slowly closing only too quickly re-open. A tired little thing, staying wake for reasons Rick could only guess.

Rick pushed the statue a little away from himself, giving the bird a look over. Seeing a big-little bird, feathered from top to bottom, layer upon layers of thick feathers, claws long and wide to keep it steady on branches. Rick had almost finished it, but was having a hard time carving the bird’s eyes, feeling that they needed to be good, perfect even. For it felt- felt like something would be amiss if the eyes didn’t fit the rest of the big-little bird’s body.

He checked it out, twice, thrice. Looking in every little nook and cranny for inspiration. Finding his smile wavering, thinking hard and long on the problem, not finding any inspiration.

He sighed, then put aside the statue and knife. Leaning back, supported by his arms as he stared up and into the night, seeking inspiration. Stars a-plenty staring back, twinkling and sparkling, dark and endless, looking like the opposite of a snowy white landscape. A flying star went past, a red tail following, grabbing Rick’s attention for a fleeting moment.

The sound of something smelling brought Rick back to reality, making him turn to search the sound, seeing the little beast sniffing greedily at the bird statue by Rick’s leg. The beast’s neck stretched to its breaking point, nose flaring as its tongue licked the wooden bird. The sight amusing Rick, then freezing him as he spotted the beast’s eyes.

It had eyes of curiosity, drinking in every detail it saw, staring at the big-little bird, eyes like that of a curious child. The sight struck Rick, and gave him insight, gave him inspiration.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

He quickly grabbed the wooden bird from underneath the beast’s nose, to the dismay of the beast who turned to glare at Rick. Rick merely gave it a sideways apology with his eyes, quickly focusing on carving the bird.

The bird, like many birds, was meant to be free, it was meant to soar the deep blue skies and to explore the world however it wanted. Rick had carved it with that in mind, making it bigger for more strength, making it fluffier for added warmth, making its claws longer for added protection.

But what was freedom without curiosity? Why did one need freedom when one hadn’t the tools to use that freedom? Why would a bird be free, if it did not have the need, the drive to explore every little nook and cranny of this beautiful world?

So, Rick carved the birds’ eyes, big and uniform, details upon details being carved meticulously into the eyes. And what better inspiration did he have than the very stars above. Carving sparkles upon spots upon dots of stars into the bird’s eyes. Many upon many, beautiful and wide. He carved well into the darker hours of night, not realizing. A companion sharing his side the entire time, staring with its own awe and curiosity in its dark red eyes, Rick not realizing.

And as the time came, time that Rick felt the eyes being sufficiently finished, he searched the bird for a perfect place to place the uruz rune, the rune for life. Seeing it quickly, perfect for this big-little bird. Three precise carves right onto its forehead.

Rick then closed his eyes, searched within, finding the vast ocean of life and pulled at it, compelling it up. And up it went, following his insides as they travelled like a hurricane up his arm. It flowed and swelled like the angriest sea on the darkest of days. It flew past as it sought its way into the bird, into a vessel of freedom and curiosity.

Then it just stopped, flowing calmly back inside himself. Rick opened his eyes, staring down on the still bird. Staring, staring, then opening his eyes wide. The birds’ eyes were slowly, slowly deepening, deeper, deep. As if they were becoming holes without a bottom. An endless abyss growing endlessly bigger. An abyss that suddenly grew into awareness, an abyss that suddenly stared back.

Rick and the abyss stared at each other, deep in each-other’s eyes. Rick feeling himself sucked in, lost, loosing his sense of self, of urgency, of, anything.

A shrill cry of excitement broke him out of his strange feeling, looking to the side as the beast stood on its four legs, tail flailing back and forth behind it, faster than the eye could perceive. Its mouth was hanging open, tongue flickering like crazy as it stared at the big-little bird. Rick turned to look down on the bird, seeing it pivoting its head to the side to look at the beast. Now the two staring at each other.

Suddenly broken free as the beast jumped forward and pawed at the bird, pawed lightly. The bird shrieking soundlessly at the unprovocative touching, flailing its enormously wide wings, far wider than Rick had carved. The big-little bird jumped up on its clawed feet, up on Rick’s leg and a step away from the beast. The beast following, putting its two front legs on Rick’s other leg, reaching its head down as it seemed to want to sniff the big-little bird. But the bird having non-of it, slapping the beast with its far too big wing, batting the beast away with a mighty thwonk.

The beast shrugging back, but only seeming egged on, urged on, its tail swishing ever faster, impossible to see. It darted forward; the bird pushing it back, the beast circling to the side, tongue flickering out as its eyes stared excitedly at the bird.

Rick pushed himself up, taking a leap forward as he placed himself in between the beast and the big-little bird. First looking down on the beast, pushing his hand forward, gesturing for it to stop, then turning to the bird, blinking twice, thrice, as he couldn’t see it.

Rick heard something above him. Turning to look, he saw the big-little bird, flapping with its enormous wings, staring down at him and the beast. Its eyes wide, deep, endlessly curious, drinking in every detail. A second passing, passing so slowly that time seemed to stop. But the second passed eventually, and the big-little bird turned around midair and flew away into the dark, dark night.

Rick blinked, blinking, then blinking some more. Turning to look down on the little beast, seeing it staring confusedly up, it’s tail having stopped wagging. Rick’s eyes drew a hateful glare, and the beast turned to face Rick, its head lowering close to the ground as it saw him. Submissive it looked, a low whine escaping its mouth.

A sigh, then Rick bent down, slowly stroking the little beast. Comforting the only way he could.

Cursing his stupidity for not realising that, obviously, a bird would want to fly away.

Something he too have wanted to do, many times in his life.