The Princess's Feathers

Snow crunches beneath my talons as I land on the opposite side of a redwood, causing a dusting of snow to drift from the branches above. I raise my head to taste the scents — a gryhawk is perched in the sequoia a hundred yards to my left, but the trail left by my prey is as cold as the ice on my feathers. I stifle the momentary frustration, fold my wings tight, and leap through a snow-covered thicket. It’s early morning, and Kuro is counting on me to return prey.

As I emerge on the opposite side of the thicket, it’s clear that something has changed. I raise my head once more, this time visually assessing my surroundings. The forest is unchanged, yet I know it’s different — something indescribable has occurred, something I can’t quite put a feather on.

…

If only strange intuitions caught prey.

I lower my head and continue forward, following a depression in the ground towards the home of the gryhawk — a prominent sequoia that dominates this section of forest. I approach the tree, trod over its roots, and hold close to the trunk as I circle to the opposite side.

Then, the forest changes.

As I round the trunk, I suddenly find myself in an utterly different place than I was just moments before. Gone is the deciduous forest, and in its place is a dense evergreen canopy, a snow-packed clearing, and a towering tree… but not just any tree. This is the Grandfather Tree! My feathers stand on end, unable to believe what I see. But more importantly, I’m not supposed to be here! I’m exiled from the Grandfather Tree! Instinctively, I whirl about and try to return from where I came, only to find the grove of trees surrounding the Grandfather Tree. What the fwegh is going on?!

I slink behind the trunk of the sequoia, shielding myself from the view of any Kin who might be lounging around the aerie. But as my heart thunders against my chest, I notice something peculiar: a complete lack of scents.

Usually, I can smell Kin the moment I land in the field outside the tree. But here, there’s nothing, not even the stale smell of prey from the communal pile. More confused than ever, I peek around the trunk and discover the aerie utterly devoid of life. No Kin lounging on the branches, no prey by the large old stump… I’m alone.

Where did everyone go? And how did I get here?

With seemingly nothing to lose, I step out from behind the tree and square my wings, anxious to investigate the scene. With my senses high and my head held low, I step into the clearing, searching for any trace of the flock.

Then, I notice something — a shimmer of iridescent light at the edge of my vision. I turn to face the source and discover a small red bird perched upon the lower roots of the Grandfather Tree, its feathers dappled in a brilliant, glowing light.

“Gust?!” I react in stark surprise. “Wait, fwegh!”

Ack!! I’m not supposed to acknowledge his existence, much less say his name aloud!

The liaison of the deities raises his head to face me, and our eyes meet. For a breathless moment, we study each other, and a peculiar feeling overcomes me — the sincere belief that if he so desired, this measly prey-bird could end my life with a mere flick of his wing. Having witnessed his power firsthand, I have no reason to doubt my unsettling intuition.

When we last spoke, I learned that one of the deities had orchestrated my arrival in Felra so I would have the best chance possible to join the flock. It keeps me up at night, thinking about everything that’s happened to me and how it’s all connected. As I’ve learned more about Felra and the forgotten history of the Animals that once lived here, I’ve become increasingly convinced that the deities have something important planned for me… something to justify my incredible transformation.

That something could be revealed to me now.

With renewed purpose, I cross the clearing and stand at the base of the roots. “Why are you here?” I ask, gazing up at the glowing bird. “And where did everyone go?”

Instead of deigning a reply, Gust ruffles his feathers and goes on twittering like any normal bird would.

Oooo-kay, he doesn’t want to talk. I already know Gust is divine, so why continue the feral bird charade? Growing impatient, I hop onto a nearby root and climb the tree toward Gust’s perch.

A disembodied voice, separate from the moon around me, echoes inside my head. Instinctively, I freeze and nearly tumble sideways off the root in shock. What was THAT?! Just now, I heard Gust’s voice. Somehow, he spoke to me inside my head!!

Before I can react further, Gust takes flight from his perch, suffusing a wisp of snow into the air. A glowing trail of light follows his tailfeathers as he rises over the roots and disappears, flying inwards towards the ancient tree’s trunk. Acting on a hunch, I leap into the air and pound my wings to follow him.

Following the trail of dappled light, I find myself near the top of the gnarled root structure at a particularly large root that dives into a yawning, snow-filled chasm. I land at the base of the crevasse and step inside, following a well-worn path in the snow toward a pool of clear water. Here, I find Gust perched above a crook in the roots where water flows from the depths of the moon.

“This is the rootspring,” I say. “Kin fly here to drink when the puddles are low. Why are you showing this to me?”

At that utterance, the world around me wavers like a puff of smoke caught in a breeze.

SKREEAK?!

I cry out, shocked and frightened by the sudden betrayal of reality itself. Slowly, the rootspring and all its scents fade from existence, replaced by the unyielding darkness of a sullen, black void.

“Gust?!” I ask aloud, bordering on panic. I flail my head about, desperately trying to locate him. “What just happened?! Where are you!?”

he responds, somewhere to my left.

I turn about, expecting to find Gust perched upon the empty ground. Instead, some fifty yards away, I see a snow-covered grove framed in a square against the black void. A cold breeze reaches my nostrils, bringing the scents of an alpine forest.

“What is this?” I ask, astounded that such things can be possible.

My talons click as I trot across the void, searching for any sign of Gust in the apparition before me. As I come upon the grove, the void that wavers and dissolves, and the moon as I know it reforms anew. I find myself among the conifers, standing at the rim of a large, snow-lined depression where the undergrowth is strangely absent. What’s more, the shape of the depression is unusually consistent — too consistent to be formed by nature.

Hearing the sound of feathers above me, I gaze up to see Gust perched in the lower branches of a fir. “What is this place?” I ask him. “Did Animals construct this, too?”

Gust swivels to face me, then preens his chest lightly.

Buried in the snow, huh? Normally, I wouldn’t dare to use my fire in the middle of a forest. But this can’t be a real forest. No, I must be asleep at Flat Rock. I’m dreaming right now, and Gust is sharing a vision of something important with me.

With the mandate of the liaison, I leap forward and unleash my fire, quickly melting the snow around the depression. As bare ground emerges, a series of fallen trees are revealed. I extinguish my flame and approach them, trodding over muddy ground. So far, I’ve encountered nothing out of the ordinary. Could these trees be some kind of clue?

I approach the trunk closest to me and rest my talon atop it. It’s slightly damp with a strong scent of rotting wood — again, nothing unusual. But as I idly roll the trunk under my talon, another scent emerges. I push it forward to reveal the moist underside, and what I see there takes my breath away: a shrubby, black fungi is growing in patches against the decaying wood.

“Pilophorus acicularis?!” I gasp. “The Devil’s Matchstick lichen?!”

Feathers rustle behind me, louder than ever before. Sensing Gust is close, I cast about to face him, only to find something far more incredible. As I turn, the world shifts to become a mottled mess of color, like someone smeared their fingers against a wet painting. When I stop twisting, I find I’m no longer in the snow. I’m no longer on Felra. I’m in a room, a building — the Lordanou Palace.

Sofl’s lab.

I gasp loud enough for the Goddess herself to hear me. Everything is exactly as I remember it on the day I left. The books stacked against the wall, the samples on the desk, and the dusty tome opened in the center of the room.

I’m… home.

So, that must mean…

I raise my forelegs but instead find a pair of fuzzy black hands. I stare at them unblinking, unable to believe my eyes. These are my hands. I curl my fingers, mesmerized by their simple, intricate movements. I gaze down at my legs and see two of them, clad in the most expensive slacks money can buy. I try to unfurl my wings but only lift my shoulders slightly.

It’s… It’s really true! I’m a Lemur again! I turned back to normal!!

…

“Oh my Goddess,” I whisper. “Sofl…?! Mother?!!”

I sprint to the door leading into the hallway and attempt to fling it open, only to find the knob frozen. I try again with more force but encounter the same result.

“Hello?!” I yell, banging my hands against the door. “It’s me, Asha!! I’m not dead!! Please, can anyone hear me?!”

I scream and pound my fists until they’re numb with pain. Doubts infiltrate my thoughts, and an unbidden feeling overcomes me — the fervent belief that no matter what, I will never, ever, walk through this door. Yes, that’s right… I can never walk through this door because it’s not real. I’m not real, and neither is the moon I find myself in. Gust created this strange, dream-like reality to show me something important.

…

Stubbornly, I run to a window on the opposite side of the room and whip open the curtains. Warm sunlight floods the room, revealing the palace’s grand front lawn. Horse-drawn carts are trundling up the tree-lined path, its cobblestones covered in a scarlet array of fallen oak leaves. It’s a sunny autumn day — the day that I left Varecia to travel to the Eastern Weald.

“What…?” I ask aloud. “I don’t understand. Gust?”

Feathers ruffle behind me. I turn around to see a single red feather resting at the bottom of the dusty tome, the one Sofl was translating on the day I left. I approach it, and something compels me to read the translation.

“Gather one part yarrow, two parts fireweed, one part axsage, and a pinch of Devils Matchstick lichen. Agitate the lichen, then wrap the compound in fireweed leaves. Scorch with an open flame. Combine with yarrow and axsage in 8fl water. Agitate vigorously.”

As the words roll off my tongues, the lab and my restored Lemur body dissolve soundlessly into nothing. Once more, the unyielding black void surrounds me. I call out to Gust, but no sound is produced. In the absence of reality, I’ve become formless, drifting through the veil as a pale wisp of flickering blue light.

Somehow, I understand these things.

In the distance, two other lights appear — red and orange. I try to focus on them, but my thoughts are numb, stunted by the specter I’ve become. A force unseen acts against me, causing me to drift closer to the lights. As I approach, their energy begins to twist with my own, forming complex interactions of light. They feel… oddly comforting to me.

I open my eyes.

Greeted by the light of an emberoot fire, I raise my head slowly. I’ve returned to Fra’s den, surrounded by the Kin I’ve come to know in the Snowfell Flock. Fra, Kuro, and Frope… they’re sleeping peacefully around me, completely unaware of the journey I just returned from. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m back in my Lithan form. As the warmth that returned with me begins to fade, my consciousness comes back into focus.

…

…

…What the FWEGH just happened?!

“It was somewhere up north,” I continue. “The distribution of conifers was consistent with an alpine biome, except I was at the bottom of a valley. It didn’t correlate with anything in the Great Valley, so it must be somewhere farther north. I thought it could be in the flock’s territory beyond White Mountain.”

Looking down at me, Kuro tilts her head and blinks. She doesn’t understand a word I’m saying, but that’s okay. She doesn’t need to know what a conifer or a biome is. She just needs to trust me.

“But it wasn’t natural. That much, I’m certain. Animals must have created it. If we could find this place and the lichen, we could develop a treatment for the illness. Kuro, have you ever seen a place like that before?”

The morning sun shines from a clear blue sky, warming our feathers through a patchwork canopy of snow-brimmed trees. I brought Kuro to this remote location on Flat Rock’s island to tell her about my visions from Gust, far away from the prying ears of gossiping Kin. I’ve been restless all morning, unable to concentrate on anything but the visions Gust showed me overnight. The more I think about them, the more I become convinced that the deities want me to stop the illness spreading through the Grandfather Tree. In fact, it might be the reason why I was brought to Felra.

Think about it: What if the elixir in that old book is the only cure for the illness? There’s no way someone like Nakino or Frecci could develop it, so what if the only solution was to transform a Farlander, lead them to join the flock, and have them invent the cure?

I’ll admit it’s a bit of a stretch. So many things have to go right for that plan to work. Why did they choose to transform the future Monarch of Ellyntide instead of someone far less important? Professor Willow knows more about botany than I do, so why didn’t he become a Lithan? But if this is really the path the deities want me to follow, then… I accept it. I’ll trust their judgment and walk that path.

Kuro studies me for a moment. It seems she’s having trouble believing my story. Finally, she tells me in a dry voice, “No. I’m not sure where that place could be.”

I exhale a muted sigh and allow my wings to droop. “Then we have to go looking for it.”

“What?!” Kuro growls.

“Kuro, it could save lives!”

Kuro flashes agitation before her expression moderates. She lowers her wings and says, “That’s a lot of faith to put on a dream.”

“I know, but—“

“Even if Relmoon wasn’t looking for you, the territory beyond White Mountain is dangerous. Storms can arrive in a talon’s mark and make flying impossible. There are no dens or prey beyond White Mountain.”

At this point, Relmoon’s ‘flock’ may present as much of a threat as the far-flung territory. As yesterday’s storm passed, word reached Flat Rock that Relmoon’s thugs had been attacking Kin and stealing prey. Evidently, trying to kill me wasn’t enough.

“There’s one other thing,” Kuro says, lowering her voice. “Frope wants to return to her family’s den for the rest of the season.”

“She does?!” I reel in stunned surprise.

Kuro nods. “She told me while you were at Frecci’s den. She wants to help her father hunt until greenwing arrives. So, if we fly beyond White Mountain, it’ll just be us.”

I turn away from Kuro and gaze silently across the forest. This is terrible news! Tomcat has been an integral part of our hunting trips. On those unlucky days when it seems like every prey-animal in the valley knows I’m tracking them, she’s the one who flies home with prey in her jaws. It’s her right to return to her family’s den, of course. But, gosh… this one hurts. I owe Tomcat so much.

This isn’t good. Kuro has some persuasive arguments against searching for the lichen. And who could blame her? Risking your life over something seen in a dream is a huge leap of faith. How can I explain to her just how compelling my vision was without revealing Gust’s existence?

Wait a second…

I already told her about Gust. It was on my second day in Felra during our very first flight to White Mountain. I asked her if she had ever seen a strange, glowing bird, and she told me ‘no.’ So, it’s not a big deal if I mention him again, right? I’ll just act like his identity is still unknown to me.

And if it isn’t okay, then, well… I’ll find out pretty quickly.

“Kuro,” I say, gazing up at her. “I know it’s dangerous, but… I think Keuvra wants me to find the lichen.”

Kuro raises her wings in curiosity. “…Really?”

“Do you remember when I asked you about the glowing red bird? The one that led me to the False-Kin?”

Kuro’s eyes go wide. Where a few moments ago she seemed irritated, now she appears brimming with concern. “Did you see it again?”

I nod slowly. “I-It was in my dream. It brought me to the place where I found the lichen. Kuro… I think this could be the reason why I became a Lithan. I think Keuvra brought me to Felra so I could treat the illness using my knowledge of botany. And I think that bird was showing me how to accomplish that.”

Kuro growls lightly in contemplation, her tail swaying rapidly over the snow drifts. “Asha…” she speaks slowly, turning her head away from me. “That bird nearly led you to the skies of Maki. How can you be sure it isn’t trying to trick you again?”

“Kuro, if that bird hadn’t led me to the False-Kin, then we would have never met each other. I would have died of starvation or been killed by a different False-Kin. Don’t you see? It was trying to help me join the flock!”

Again, Kuro rumbles in contemplation. It seems she’s never considered that angle before. She turns to me and quips, “You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

“W-Well!” I stumble. “It’s, um. I’ve thought about it a lot, okay? I think about these things all the time.”

Kuro chitters to herself and says, “Okay. I think I understand.”

Wait, what?! “…You do?”

“Yeah,” she says. She approaches and looks down on me with those shimmering, merlot eyes. “That bird must be important if you saw it twice. We’ll fly to White Mountain and wait for a break in the snow. Then, we’ll mark every guiding tree and fly back at the first sign of snow. How does that sound?”

How does it sound?! “That sounds wonderful!” I exclaim, overcome with relief. I’m unsure what convinced her to trust me, and I don’t care! I’m just so happy that she believes me! Without thinking, I lurch forward before quickly stopping myself. I was about to nuzzle my head against Kuro’s.

…

…Okay, maybe just a little nuzzle. I hop a step and stretch my neck as far it will go, brushing the tips of my facial feathers against Kuro’s. My partiality pushed aside, I allow myself to enjoy Kuro’s spiced scent for a fleeting, joyful moment.

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning,” she chitters, and a smile brighter than the sun shines across her face. “Now, how about we share some prey?”

“Sure!” I smile back, basking in her glow.

I’m not a fool — I know Kuro has ulterior motives. But just this once, I want to appreciate the Dragon who’s always been so considerate of me. It’s the least I could do — A small act of reciprocal kindness for the soul I’ve always wanted in my life but never had. I just wish there was some way I could tell her that without it being taken the wrong way.

…

Our business complete, I follow my dear friend back into the clearing and into the sky, following her tailfeathers as we ride the thermals back to Flat Rock.