A pungent smell permeated the foggy air in the surroundings of the ancient swamp. A light drizzle obscured the already dark view of the Murkrest village, hidden deep inside the dark swampy territory, invisible if not for the gentle flicker of the torches hung on the bridges. Murkrest was a village of twenty wigwam like thatched huts, built on pillars and occasional trees, which kept them above the murky water. Long dark wooden bridges connected one hut to the next as well as a series of rope ladders, vines, and catwalks, forming an intricate walkway for the strange inhabitants. Each hut was circular with one oval entrance the size of a normal human male. A small torch was affixed near each entrance.

Inside one of the huts at the border of the village, a small fireplace stood on the other side of the entrance, which illuminated storerooms of food and kindling layered under the wooden floor, while sleeping mats and furs were visible, stacked in the lofts above. Wooden stools and baskets littered the area, and dark brown leather hoods, capes, and tools hung on the walls.

The flicker of the fire illuminated the face of a small blue child sleeping with a serene face curled up in a blanket near the fireplace. Traces of white hair showed on his mostly bald head, while his ears were a bit pointy. One would easily mistake him for a half breed between an elf and another creature but that was the furthest away from the truth.

As time slowly flied, the little blue child became restless in his sleep, from a few turns to fearful expressions appearing on his innocent face. Ragged breaths filled the lowly lit room as the small child began shaking, covered in cold sweat.

Whamp!

Suddenly the arched wooden door opened up, only to show a similarly blue-colored female entering the hut, fully covered in what seemed like poorly made leather hunting attire. The female immediately placed her recurved bow onto a rack on the wall and made her way to the pitiful child. Her hands slowly reached the child's face and caressed his violet cheeks, while a strange but mystical tune was chanted.

Slowly but surely the ragged breaths of the child became slower and slower while his pain-filled expression returned serene once again. The female observed the child for a few more seconds before finally laying down onto a woolen mat next to him and embracing him. Letting the warmth of the fireplace lay a warm blanket over the two.

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Chirp Chirp!

Two featherless little hatchlings were twittering in the comfortable cup-shaped nest made by their parents. To the side, a little blue bird stayed still and looked at his two offsprings. The blue bird was not big, he was the size of a large human hand, with silk like blue feathers, and streaks of white flowing from his crown down towards his tail. The blue bird had black eyes and a small beak that made it seem accustomed to eating small animals or insects.

The blue bird looked at his two hatchlings which were chirping and moving about frantically with a gaze full of love. Then, with quick, brisk motions he turned around and took off. Leaping down the nest, and spreading his small wings, the blue bird came into full view of the magnificent sea of green. He had luckily found repair in the huge tree behind it on a scorching day of summer and from then on it became his nest. The tree was the tallest one in the area, at least double the height of the nearest tree in terms of height. It was the perfect place to lay the nest at, as it was nigh impossible for the terrestrial predators to climb up.

The blue bird shook his head slightly, it was time to gather some food.

The bird soared through the sky, feeling every movement of the wind and following the air currents like an expert sailor in the sea. Slowly scrutinizing the ground down below the blue bird searched for a specific plant. The only one that housed his precious food, the blue-green caterpillar. A delicious meal that often changed colors during the night and day, being green during the day and a soft luminescent blue at night.

Craw! Craw!

A sudden screech in the air behind him brought the blue bird out of his thoughts. Instinctively his heartbeat accelerated to the maximum. There was no need to turn around, he knew danger was closing up fast.

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Without hesitation the blue bird dove down and headed towards the thick layer of canopy. Behind him a bird with a larger build, longer wingspan, bigger beak and razor sharp talons also dove down in such a fast way that the little blue bird could only hide in shame. The predator was a red feathered sky hawk, one of the kings of the sky. The two aves plunged down toward the thick canopy, the red hawk quickly closing the distance to the blue bird. At the last moment the red hawk quickly extended his talons forward hoping to catch his meal before it disappeared in the maze like crowns of the trees.

The blue bird took the opportunity of the red hawk slowing down and made a brisk turn to the left with extremely fast speed, advantage of his small frame. The red hawk missed his target and almost crashed into the trees, he instantaneously opened his wings to the maximum and slowed his speed down. Looking back he saw his meal plunging into the protection of the forest down below.

The blue bird elegantly maneuvered through the densely packed maze of thick tree branches, a technique he learned that was useful to shake off larger flying predators because of their big bodies. The blue bird slowed down, returning to his cruising speed at the same time feeling his small heartbeat slow down.

The sunlight broke through the canopy of trees on multiple occasions, lighting up the understory in a myriad of lights and colors. The blue bird descended hopping from branch to branch until it arrived at the sparsely obstructed forest layer. A myriad of sounds, from the closely chirping birds to the distant growling of beasts met the little blue bird. The ground was home to many types of flora and fauna it was a paradise for many species. Patches of bushes, smaller trees, growing flowers and mossy rocks decorated the forest floor in a mystical fashion.

The blue bird hopped down the last branch as well, opening his wings again and returning to the air. The trees passed by quickly and the occasional ray of light shining down on the bird showcased his beauty to the world.

A few minutes of flying was all it took for the bird to find a green bush the size of a man intertwined with a blue vine with purple leaves. The leaves had a large base, which got smaller towards the tip, white patterns decorated the leaf in a random fashion. If one got a closer look, he could see green caterpillars climbing from the bush onto the cane of the vine and eating the purple leaves.

The blue bird got to action and immediately flew down to the base of the bush. He spun around in a circle checking his surroundings for danger, he then started picking at the many caterpillars found on the stem of the vine. Having had his fill, he then picked a few more to give his offsprings later this day.

Having finished his business, he took a small jump and took into the air again.

Ascending quickly, he reached the nearest branch. He observed the canopy for an easy passage to the sky when he heard the strange sounds of unknown beings. He looked towards the source of the sound only to discover weird animals that walked on two feet and had strange fur not too far from his position. They were covered in many places with shining stuff and were walking together as a group of six. The little blue bird had never seen such strange beings and curiosity won him over. Although he knew that unknown things are dangerous, he knew that they could not fly, so he could always keep a safe distance. As he moved closer and closer he noticed that in the middle of the group was the smallest of the six beings, he seemed protected by the others in the group.

Finally jumping onto the branch of a tree not far from them he observed them a bit better, that's when he saw the smallest one taking out a long rod from behind him. He set the rod onto a weird contraption with a string and strangely aimed it at the little bird. The little bird immediately felt that something was wrong but the rod was already released, the blue bird quickly jumped off the branch, luckily evading the first rod only to be hit moments later by another rod.

The little blue bird didn't feel anything, he only saw the world spinning very fast. He didn't fear, as he didn't have such complex emotions but he thought about who would feed his little hatchlings if he wasn't there.

With that last thought, which was more like an instinct, the blue bird finally fell to the ground, impaled by the rod, his red blood slowly dripped onto the ground dying it in the darkest of reds.

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"Aaah!"

Agan woke up again with a sheen of cold sweat covering his face. As he struggled to calm down from his vivid dream, he felt the warm embrace of his mother, immediately easing much of his worry and fear. Agan was just three years old but he has had such nightmares from the day he was born, always about being a blue bird flying in the sky. Agan's dreams weren't always nightmares and were usually very peaceful, but occasionally nightmares also occurred.

Little Agan slowly spun around in the arms of his mother, making sure not to wake her up and then climbed out from her cage like embrace. He looked at her jet black hair flowing down her shoulders like a dark shadow before slowly trodding over to the bow placed on the wall, he sat down in front of it and his eyes sparkled with curiosity and desire as he imagined himself being a glorious warrior of the tribe.

Their tribe was one of the smallest ones in the swamp and they were the newest arrivals, having been here for less than two centuries. The warriors were the most respected tribesmen as their role altered from hunting and gathering food to protection against animals and most importantly other tribes. Agan's wish was to become a strong warrior for the tribe, to make his mother proud and to live up to his father's expectations.

As he thought back to his father's strong presence a fire like glint appeared in the boy's eyes.

Although Agan was a late talker, it did not mean that he was stupid. On the contrary, he was very capable, but many mistook his silence for stupidity although it was only his nature to observe rather than talk. As he observed the world around him, his first words spoken were "Kothrar crosa" to his father at one and a half years old. Which meant: "father love".

The language spoken by little Agan was Crosakoi, meaning: "Courageous talking". It was a language that has been passed down through generations to the current remaining tribe members of the Hallowed Walkers.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by two hands grabbing him by the waist and throwing him up in the air.

Agan's scream was probably heard by the entire village.