Posts by Echoez

Feyth ran her pale hand down the smooth trunk of a seemingly ancient oak tree. The rough bark had been torn away by razor sharp claws. She was still a novice at tracking, but so far she had been doing adequately. Along the trail, bushes had been trampled down and flattened by large feet, possibly paws. Further along the trail she had been following, she noticed a tuft of black fur tangled in a bramble bush. She bent down and freed it of the tendrils, surprised that it was soft and silky to the touch. Fur like this did not belong to many creatures, especially not creatures of this size and potency. Feyth stood up, the fur still in her hand. A ferocious roar echoed through the forest, bouncing of the trees and reverberating until the sound died away, transforming back into the silence that had filled the forest. It was a frightening noise, used to ward of attackers, but Feyth was not interested in attacking the creature. Feyth immediately pinpointed the source of the noise. She raced through the forest, dodging past trees and jumping over debris of fallen trees and uprooted plants. Something huge had some this way, the trail made that fact obvious and she now had a pretty accurate idea of what the creature was from the signs and clues she had accumulated whilst tracking it. Unfortunately, confronting or approaching large creatures could be quite a precarious business, they are highly dangerous and can be extremely unpredictable. Feyth raced through the forest, sprinting at an incredible speed that could be achieved by few ordinary humans, let alone a girl of the age 16. She leapt and jumped over the obstacles with graceful agility and acute accuracy. She did not realise how fast she was sprinting until she skidded to a halt, stopping abruptly at the edge of a dip, which reached deep into the ground. She peered down into the gaping crater and could see, clear as daylight, the creature she had been tracking. A swirling mist crept down into the base of the crater, clinging itself to the steep slopes of the side of the crater, and to the creature. It wasn’t difficult to track, creatures that aren’t moving usually are, but freeing them from whatever had immobilized it would be a task, worthy of a courageous person. Feyth was probably the only brave person from the village of Solare, a village of farmers and simple folk, all kind-hearted and would never hurt a fly. Why this creature was injured so close to Solare bewildered Feyth. There were no other towns, villages or cities nearby, only travellers could have hurt it, but that was too implausible to be true. She treaded cautiously down into the dip, in the centre lay the creature, in all his magnificence. He was a cyjur, a rare creature only found on certain occasions, such as the one that had presented itself to Feyth. They were only ever found if they were injured or dead. Feyth kneeled beside him and ran her hand along his body, enjoying the feeling of his soft, sleek fur. Normal tigers did not have fur like cyjurs, but they were not special. Cyjurs had enormous wings, similar to falcons in shape and instead of having an ordinary tiger pelt, they had black paws and black tails. Despite their tigerlike appearance, cyjurs are no mere tigers. They possess abilities some can only imagine. They have uncanny strength, incredible speed and other rare abilities that are still hidden from humans, unknown and kept secret over the centuries. Back when the population of cyjurs was plentiful, they were hunted by poachers for their fur and feathers. The population decreased drastically until there was only a handful left, in the wild and tame. Poachers can no longer hunt them, they can never find any. The population of tame cyjurs was even fewer than that of wild ones, cyjurs had wild hearts and rarely showed kindness to anybody. They are the most intelligent animal, they understand how to live in solitude and have never needed anybody. Feyth couldn’t help but feel sorry for the one she had discovered. His body was tangled in a fishing net, which he probably encountered while swimming in Ourer Lake. It meant that he would not have had to struggle and tumble far before he reached the crater. Feyth tore out her dagger from her belt and began to saw at the ropes that had snared the creature, hastily. Her dagger was of perfect shape, silver with a golden hilt and a small Arindorian jewel embedded in the hilt. Arindorian gemstones were worth a lot, due to their undeniable beauty. They were clear, you could see straight through them and had a silvery blue tinting. They had one, single facet and were perfectly round, if untouched by people when mined from mountains and rock. They gleamed in the sun more beautiful than a clear river in the summer sun. They were truly elegant, and could only be found in the mountains of Arindore. He lay motionless except for the faint rise and fall of his chest, making the cutting simple. After she had cut the first piece of rope, his eyes opened, revealing their golden colouring and gleaming pupils. The moment they opened it began struggling again, thrashing about and trying to bite and claw her. He roared over and over again, reminding her of his enormous fangs, used to kill when hunting. She jumped up and backed away, raising her hands and dropping the dagger. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t understand her. He continued to thrash for minutes without end, rolling closer to her each minute, but whenever he got close, he tumbled back down the crater. Not only was he snared, but he was also trapped. As his strength began to fail, tears filled his gorgeous, golden eyes. His tears began to drizzle down his majestic face, he wept for his life the way no other animal could. He knew he would die. Feyth approached him again, edging closer to him with her hands held up. She bent down, still watching the cyjur and grasped her dagger with one of her hands. She crouched beside him again and sawed at another piece of rope from the net. This time, however, he did not thrash, he was too tired, too weak. She continued to saw her way through the net until his legs were free. She began trembling as she cut. When he was free, what would he do? Eat her? It was the most likely thing a cyjur would do, but despite her fears she didn’t waver. She wanted him to be free. Her life would be worth the life of a creature belonging to a species so close to extinction. With the accurate slice of one piece of rope and the cyjur leapt back to life, jumping up and tearing the rest of the net from his body. The violence of this action amazed Feyth as she was tossed aside by one of his giant paws. She wanted to flee, but she could not, she was hypnotized by his roars, his frantic struggling that had finally set him free. She snapped out of her trance when he stopped and confronted her, his head lifted to match the height of her own. They stood there, face to face, staring into each other’s eyes. Feyth was filled with fear, but also with courage. She had done a good deed, she would die with a clear conscience. The cyjur, however, wasn’t planning on eating the child. Rather, he was contemplating how he would repay her. Would he show her the way home? No, she would already know that. Would he speak to her? Was it too risky, would she betray the secret of cyjurs? He wasn’t sure whether or not to trust her with the burden of their secret, but as he was thinking, she collapsed to her knees. He hadn’t noticed her quivering. She was fearful, afraid of what this mighty creature could do to her, fearful of her impending doom. “Please…” she begged, whimpering as she spoke. “Spare my life, as I spared your own,” she said as she closed her eyes in an attempt to hide her forming tears. They spilled down her face and despite her efforts to hide them from the cyjur, he could see them, clear as daylight. Tears are a conspicuous thing when you’re that close to a person’s face, you cannot disguise them by closing your eyes. He loomed above her casting a shadow upon her melancholy face. “I pity you”, he said, or so she thought he said. Actually, he thought it, she simply wasn’t looking at his face when he thought it and assumed he had spoken it. She had heard what he had thought, the way one would hear spoken words. This was the gift of the cyjurs. They could speak with their minds. To whoever they want, whether they single a person out or speak to multiple people. They can say things that they don’t want others to hear, and the others wouldn’t hear it, it’s quite beneficial for them. Regrettably, they prefer to keep their unnatural ability secret, so very few people know of their high intelligence and think that they’re simply animals. They aren’t though, they are as precocious as humans. Though they are advanced, only the cyjurs know, the fact that this one was speaking to Feyth was astounding, from her point of view at least. The moment she heard it speak, her gaze drifted back to it, darting from its eyes to its mouth. She was confounded, she thought she was having a reverie, she was going crazy, surely this cyjur had not spoken? “Thank you for your help, how can I repay you for this act of compassion?” he spoke again, his voice kind and deep, though not a mature voice, more of the voice of a young boy of the age of 15-20. It reminded Feyth of her deceased brother, whom had a similar voice. Though she found it difficult, she managed to reply despite her bewilderment, “Y-you can talk?” The cyjur was amused by her vague reply, humans were completely oblivious to their ability of speech, it was quite entertaining to watch her reaction. “Yes! Of course! My name is Korin, I’m a cyjur as you probably know, and I guess I’m in your debt, after you save my life and all”, he said, or rather thought. He backed up a little, allowing her to view his entire body, rather than only his face. “Uh…I’m Feyth…” she replied. If cyjurs could smile, he would have been grinning cockily. When she could finally comprehend what was happening, she began to relax. Korin was not going to hurt her in any way, or at least he did not have any interest in the matter. In fact, he seemed friendly, and a bit too robust, for an injured creature. A feeling of anxiety settled itself inside her, reminding her that she had just saved his life, though she still wasn’t entirely sure what from. She used her keen eyes to search him for any injury or wounds. It took her a while to spot anything that could be alarming, or even life threatening, all she could find was a small cut travelling up his leg, but it was a thin cut, and evidently not deep enough to be concerning. After another desperate search for life threatening wounds, she discerned a small red glisten on his side, close to his broad shoulder, the crimson liquid was oozing down his fur like raindrops on a rock, though she wasn’t entirely sure of what it actually was, Korin was concealing it with his wing and would have succeeded in fooling her that he was unscathed if she had not been prominent with her search. She advanced towards him, he watched her, patronizing her small body and weak skills. “What do you think you’re doing?” he growled menacingly. His voice filled her mind, making her flinch away. It included a vague feeling of claws ripping her to pieces, but not strong enough to actually make her feel intense pain. “I know you’re injured, let me help, one last time?” She looked away, his head directed to the forest. Animal sounds had returned. Birds were chirping away while he could hear ground creatures scurrying across the forest floor and rustling amongst the undergrowth. He reluctantly raised his wing, revealing a large gash that stretch from his shoulder all the way down to his haunches. The gash may have been slim before, but with all his struggling, it had widened to a gaping wound. When he lifted his wing, he let loose a flow of blood that began dripping onto the ground. The bleeding was heavy, the wing had protected it for a short time, but now his life was in the balance, once again. Feyth lunged forward, tearing off her black coat and forcing it onto his throbbing wound. When the fabric made contact with his pulsing wound, it sent fierce pain shooting through his body. This pain would send humans sprawling, cyjurs had developed a minor immunity to pain, but their immunity could not block out all the pain and still made Korin yowl in agony. Feyth couldn’t stand the sound of his torment, but knew full and well that she was assisting him. She pressed the coat on the wound more firmly, spreading is across the entire length of the wound in an attempt to completely stop the bleeding. The blood soaked into the coat, not instantly but in a matter of second. She had not realised the intensity of the situation. His long black tail, sleek and smooth, began to lash back and forth. His eyes were shut tightly, he was obviously in pain. It frustrated Feyth, she was failing, her delinquency was infuriating. She couldn’t help him, she was training to track animals, not heal them. It was going against what she had been taught. “Hold this,” she said coldly, meaning for him to use his wing to put pressure on it. He did so, holding the coat in place. The moment she was sure it was firm, she dashed to the fishing net. The ropes on it were strong and sturdy, perfect for what she had in mind. She untangled it and began to pull ropes out from each other, destroying the net in the process but leaving her with lengthy ropes. Clutching one of the especially long ropes, she walked back to Korin. “What are you doing?” he asked curiously, his pain was not hidden in his voice. She shook her head, wondering to herself what she was doing. “I’m not entirely sure…,” she may have been thinking to herself, but she hoped he would understand what she meant. He nodded, or so it seemed, but she couldn’t understand why. Why would a cyjur nod his head, with such honest understanding? The fact was, not only can cyjur speak through their minds, but they can also hear minds, if the mind chooses to convey their thoughts to the cyjur. It’s quite clever and beneficial, to not only the cyjurs, but also those who happen upon them and speak to them. She gave a little shrug, and continued with whatever it was she was doing. She threw one end of the rope over his body and crawled underneath him with the other end in hand. She tied the two ends together, tightly so that they would not come undone easily. She travelled back to his injured side and pushed it onto the coat. She continued this process with multiple ropes, working underneath his gorgeous wing, which now glistened with small droplets of crimson blood. When she had used all the pieces of rope, she had the entire length of the coat held by the ropes, in a way that held it firm and unmoving. She permitted him to remove his wing, and when he did she saw a large blood stain on the under feathers of his wing. It took her a few moments to finally realise what she had accomplished, he was no longer bleeding heavily. Her temporary bandage had succeeded in its purpose. She would have jumped with joy and celebration, but Korin was still in pain and still in danger. Though the probability of him bleeding to death was now slight, he could still gain infection or his wound might start bleeding again. She wasn’t really sure what could happen, she wasn’t a healer, but she did know a person who was.

Feyth raced into the village, running quickly but not as quick as she did in the forest. She found running in the village uncomfortable, there were so many people watching and getting in the way, she was sure she would injure somebody if she was not careful. The moment she leaped over the bordering fence, the smell of food hit her, inducing her to stop and eat lunch, as it was the hour for it, but she rejected the thought almost instantly. The village lay deep in the wilderness, on noticed from a distance by the tall clouds of smoke rising from the chimneys. Their village wasn’t the smallest, but it wouldn’t be considered large compared to the towering cities and larger villages, scattered across the land. The population, according to the most recent census was between 150 to 200 people, hardly a number to be proud of. Their village, Solare, was located very close to Ourer Lake. They acquired a lot of food near the lake, including, but not limited to, water birds, fish and creature that roamed around the lake’s perimeter. The lake was connected to the ocean by a river, which, similarly to the lake, was called Ourer River. The river’s water ran south, into the ocean. Also not far from Solare were the distant, snow-capped peaks, the Eivarel Mountains. It was a tiny mountain range compared to the more magnificent, but it was still a gorgeous sight, especially from Solare. Their village’s position was prime, other villages would envy their amazing placement, which allowed their village to flourish throughout the decades since it had been first founded. She had returned to the village with a mission to accomplish, find the village’s top healer and get her to heal Korin. On issue would be the trust, would Korin trust a new stranger, one who could possibly be hostile? Feyth had to take the chance, if she wanted to save his life, again. Simple, except it wasn’t as simple as it sounded. During lunchtime, everybody was outside or inside, eating with their families, the narrow pathways and trails were crowded with people buying food from scattered stores and the town was filled with sounds. Midday was always this noisy, during midday most people did their daily shopping for food and essential items, when the sun began to drop from the sky all the people would have already disappeared. The sun was still high in the sky and shining down upon the people its glorious light. It would be difficult to find the healer in a place this crowded, especially if you had no idea whatsoever of where she would be, or even where she lived. Feyth would have given up in a single heartbeat, had it not been the desperation of the given situation, the life of a cyjur was in her hands, a responsibility she was strangely willing to accept. She headed to her own home, her house where she knew her father would be. She slowed when her house was in view, a ramshackle home. Her father had little wealth since her mother died, they had moved from their original home, a fairly respectable environment, one where a child could safely grow up. When her mother died, they were left with the meagre earnings of her father, they were forced to move to this house. It was falling apart and not exactly somewhere where you would have a cup of tea, but cosy just the same. She grasped the handle of the rickety wooden door and pushed her way into the house, the door often got stuck and wouldn’t budge. Inside, the house was a lot better looking than outside. There was a warm hearth, the fire dancing gracefully, the flames licking the stone chimney. The chimney was the only stone part of the house, such luxuries could not be afforded, so they were stuck with wood. The floor was carpeted to avoid splinters, though the carpets were full of holes and covered in dirt. They were rough underfoot and held the faint smell of cabbage but they still allowed Feyth to avoid splintering her feet on the jagged floorboards. She took the few steps to cross the house to the fireplace, stepping lightly along the way. Sitting in front of the fireplace, staring into the hypnotic flames was her father. He looked so frail for a 50 year old man. He was losing it, becoming delusional. Her mother’s death took its toll on him, soon he would die, orphaning Feyth, leaving her to look after herself. Feyth prayed the time of his passing was not soon. She placed her hand upon his shoulder, on contact he flinched. He then turned his head to look up at her, the motion slow and reluctant. His teary eyes glowed in the firelight, the tears glistened and when he spoke, his voice was deep and mourning. “Hello Feyth, you don’t look so good,” he was speaking of her stricken facial expression, that of a person who had seen a horrific event. You don’t look so good yourself, she didn’t dare speak the words, they were insulting to her father. “I was out in the forest, I was tracking,” she replied, sitting on the floor, cross-legged, in front of him. He leaned forward, cupped her face with his hands and stared at her face. “Your face…you have a mark, on your beautiful face.” She smiled warmly, his remark pleased her, “It’s only a scratch, I’ll be fine!” She placed her hands on his and slowly removed them from her sore face. While she had been running, returning from her encounter with Korin, she hadn’t been watching where she was going carefully enough and her face had been slashed by a sharp tree branch. It had left a gash across the right side of her face, which was now red and slightly swollen, though it did not cause an enormous amount of pain, it only throbbed a little. He released her face and rolled back into the chair. “Father, do you know where the healer, Shazkai lives?” she asked softly, gazing into his eyes. They instantly filled with anger and confusion. “Why would you want to see that crazy old coot?” he said, as if disgusted by the outrageous question. Feyth was insulted by his rude comment. Crazy old coot? Feyth had long admired the skills and immense knowledge of herbs and healing. “I need her help, that’s all,” she replied, the bitterness in her voice evident. He shrugged lazily, “Go ask Reyah, surely she knows where she lives,” he said gruffly before closing his eyes and drifting off into a troubled nightmare revolving around his dead wife. Feyth frowned at him from behind his back before turning and exiting their shabby house hastily. She closed the door lightly, as to not wake him from his slumber, though she was tempted to slam it. She understood why he disliked the healer, she had upset him greatly in the past. When he had been announcing the marriage to the village, which was an ancient village tradition, every couple abided by, she had denied them the right to marry. Every healer must allow the couple to marry before they would be allowed to wed, but with no apparent reason, Shazkai had refused to grant them what they desired so severely. After much begging and desperation she finally gave in and gave them her blessing. Her father never forgave Shazkai for her unacceptance of the couple’s love. Feyth had approached Shazkai, once, to ask why she had denied them marriage. Shazkai had told Feyth with reluctance. Shazkai had known for years now that Feyth’s mother, Akhia, could not give birth without losing her life. She also knew that Akhia would not tell Feyth’s father, Lenoris, that she would die if she gave birth. Shazkai had tried to prevent the death of Akhia, but could not keep it up forever. Her attempt to protect Akhia had failed. Feyth had full understanding of Shazkai’s reason, which she had justified with great depth and detail. Feyth had no grudge again Shazkai, but she couldn’t say the same about her easily provoked father. She muttered to herself unaudible sentences, speaking to herself about Korin and his injury when she spotted Reyah. She was relieved she had found her to easily. “Come back, Sweet Pea! Come back!” she was calling loudly. She was chasing after a small golden dog with large black, gleaming eyes and his tongue lolling out and he galloped away from her. She stopped at the edge of the path and bent over, putting her hands on her knees and panting heavily. “Come, back,” she groaned before taking off again, beginning the chase once more. Feyth quickly raced after her. “Hey, Reyah, wait up!” she called quickly before the 9 year old could disappear from her. Reyah stopped and spun around, soon noticing Feyth and smiling widely. “FEYTH!” she squealed in excitement. She ran towards Feyth, her hands outstretched. When they were close enough, Reyah jumped into Feyth’s arms. Feyth lifted her up in a huge bear hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages, how have you been?” Feyth grinned at Reyah, putting her back down on the ground. “I’m great,” she replied, beaming. She was truly glad to see Reyah again, they had been good friends when Feyth had looked after her during the time when her mother had been dangerously ill. She had no father, similarly to Feyth having no mother. They got along well together, Feyth hoped their friendship would last many years. Reyah looked around both shoulders before looking back up at Feyth. “Have you seen Sweet Pea? He ran off again,” she sighed in defeat. “No, sorry, not since I saw you chasing him,” Feyth gave a small shrug. Reyah moaned in disappointment, “I’ll never catch him!” she exclaimed. “Hey, Reyah, you know your grandmother, Shazkai, where does she live?” Feyth inquired, changing the subject so she could find the healer quickly. Korin was running out of time. Reyah nodded then ran off, waving her hand in a gesture that instructed Feyth to follow. She bounded after Reyah, dodging past a few people. Reyah ran through many narrow pathways that Feyth could barely fit through, but Feyth continued to follow the child until they reached a large house. Smoke was billowing from the chimney, a slightly blue colour which startled Feyth. Blue smoke? That isn’t natural! Shazkai was quite strange. Reyah knocked on the mahogany door, a loud rapping that disturbs Shazkai. “Who is it? What do you want?” she grunted. Her voice was cracked and sounded old. Shazkai had seen many years go by, maybe her time was coming soon, she was many years old then her father, Lenoris. “It’s me, Reyah! Can we come in, grandmother? My friend, Feyth wishes to speak with you,” Reyah said, bubbling with excitement. A large clatter came from inside, metal, wood, stone, all tumbling and crashing about the place. “Feyth? But it’s been so long. I thought she would never come visit me again.” she muttered as she opened the door gingerly. Feyth nodded at the woman who stood in front of her. She was quite short, as Feyth had remembered distinctly but her hair was pale grey, unlike last time they met. Before her hair had been a light golden blonde, it had gleamed in the sunlight distinctly. How strange it was that her age would show so suddenly. Her eyes were deep blue and teary, but it wasn’t due to emotions. Maybe there is dust in her eyes, that clatter surely sent dust swirling? Feyth had no clue, but nevertheless, she smiled at Shazkai confidently. “I need your help, it’s urgent,” she said which for some unknown reason made the healer perk up a little. “Does somebody need healing? Do they want my help?” she said, excitement pricking at her skin. “Nobody wants me to heal them anymore, they all say I’m too old and ask the younger healers,” she muttered, not trying to hide her words from Feyth and Reyah, nor directly the words at them. It was true, everybody thought that with her old age, Shazkai would be unreliable. Nowadays, Shazkai spent her hours brewing liquids in her now rusting cauldron, the cause for the blue smoke. She had amazing skills that no other person in the village possessed. Sadly, nobody other than Shazkai actually knew this. Feyth did not doubt the healer, Shazkai had kept her mother alive for 2 and a half months while she was dying, a feat no other healer could even have come close to accomplishing. Feyth’s aunt had told her this time and time again, trying to tell Feyth that there was nothing that could be done to save her mother. Feyth had translated it as, Shazkai is the greatest healer ever! “Ah! Reyah, come inside, I have another drink for you to try,” she said kindly to the child, beckoning her to come inside. “You too, Feyth,” she added quickly, not forgetting Feyth. Inside SHazkai’s home, Feyth was impressed by the abundant supply of herbs and liquids, all for the purpose of healing, or so she supposed. Shazkai shuffled over to her bubbling cauldron and stirred it with a wide wooden spoon. “It’s going to rain this afternoon,” she mumbled, beckoning to Feyth and Reyah. They walked over and peered into the depths of the liquid. The liquid was blue, the same blue of the smoke. Of course! The smoke was blue because of the liquid! Feyth suddenly felt quite silly, she had though that an ordinary liquid was producing strange blue smoke, blue liquid producing blue smoke made much more sense. The water suddenly became calm and unmoving. “Watch,” Shazkai whispered, pouring into the pool a tiny amount of an unusual black liquid. The black liquid was contained in a small glass bottle, once poured out of the bottle it automatically refilled itself. Amongst her bewilderment and confusion, Feyth noticed the ripples in the pool revealing an image. The image produced was of grey clouds. The clouds began to release their burden, raining down upon the land. This pool was telling them that it would rain, Shazkai truly was amazing. She wasn’t only a healer, she was a shaman, capable of performing arts of magic. Few people had knowledge of magic, only shamans and the five sorcerers. “You’re a shaman!” Feyth exclaimed, staring at Shazkai quite rudely. Shazkai nodded, affirming Feyth’s theory. Feyth couldn’t help but smile, there were many stories about shamans. Nowadays they may seem idle, but back when there were many shamans, they did heroic things. Healed people who had no chance of living, fought great monsters that were thought to be myths and went down in history. During the current era, shamans hid from ordinary people, shunned out of existence, accused of being insane. “What is it that you came to me for?” Shazkai said wearily. She sat down on a wooden rocking chair and placed her frail hands on her knees. Feyth looked down at Shazkai, wondering how much she should tell her. What if Shazkai told the rest of the village, what if they killed Korin? How did she know Shazkai wouldn’t do something horrible to Korin, what is shamans really were insane? “Can I trust you with a secret, can I trust you to help me rather than yourself?” Feyth said, sitting on the ground, cross legged. “It depends on what you want help with, my dear,” Shazkai replied, taking a quick glance at Reyah, who was still staring into the cauldron in complete and utter awe. “I have a friend, he’s injured and he’ll die if you don’t come. He’s a…cyjur,” Feyth said reluctantly. She hoped that Shazkai would agree to heal him rather than kill him. Shazkai expression changed from amused to serious. Privately, she contemplated whether or not to agree to save the cyjur. She could easily redeem herself if she brought it back, but that would be a terrible crime. “Of course, it’s the right thing to do, I should help you heal the cyjur,” she said vaguely. Feyth was not sure if she should trust Shazkai, the answer was too unsure, Shazkai seemed too distant. Feyth looked at the healer’s eyes. They were slightly glazed, staring into nothingness. She was not concentrating on what was around her. Feyth raised her hand to Shakai’s face and snapped her fingers loudly. Shazkai woke from her unnerving daze and focused her gaze on Feyth. “I will help you, I honestly will, as a shaman, it is my duty,” Shazkai said, more firm and sure, though slightly distressed when saying shaman. She rarely confirmed that she was a shaman, to do say she was so openly to Feyth was going against the way she had lived for years. “If I can trust you with the secret that I am a shaman, surely you could trust me with the life of a cyjur?” Feyth had to admit, Shazkai had made a logical point. Shazkai was Korins only hope, she had to trust her. “Come with me, I’ll take you to him,” Feyth said, standing up and walking to the door out of Shazkai’s home. She swung the door open and stepped out. Sweet Pea barked in warning, as Feyth was taking her step but his warning came too late. Feyth tripped over the tiny dog and fell, face first into the dirt with a yelp of surprise. She landed on the ground with a thud and a groan. She lifted herself with one arm and rubbed her forehead, as her forehead had hit the ground first, taking most of the pain. She sat up and glared over at the dog. He was barking madly at her, circling around her with his tail wagging up in the air. He looked not only joyful, but full of glee. Nasty creature! She thought to herself, but took it back instantly when he began to lick his forehead. He understood, fully. It was strange the way animals all seemed a whole lot more intelligent than people though. “Hey, Reyah! I found Sweet Pea.”

“S-so he’s not going to eat us?” Reyah whispered, almost completely inaudible. Feyth sighed, finally admitting defeat. If she had known bringing Reyah would be a problem, she wouldn’t have brought her. The young girl had been fretting about Korin the entire time, since they entered the forest until now. Reyah, for some reason, believed that Korin would eat her. Feyth had tried to assure her that if Korin would eat anybody, it would be herself or Shazkai, as the two of them would surely fill him up more, but Reyah still wasn’t calm. “If you want to go back home you can,” Feyth said, losing all her patience. She knew it was rude, but hoped that Reyah would leave so that not only would she finally relax, but also no longer bother Feyth. Reyah shook her head and put on a brave face. “I want to see the cyjur,” she said. All of sudden, every movement she made was an effort to make herself look stronger. She took longer strides, trying to cover more distance at a time. She stuck out her chest slightly, trying to make herself look bigger of more muscular. She even clenched her fists and tensed her arms, making her tiny muscles bulge out. Feyth was amused by her efforts, though she knew it was wrong, it was hilarious the way the small child wanted to be bigger and stronger. “Hey Korin, can you hear my thoughts now? Where are you?” Feyth wanted to contact him, mostly just to be sure he hadn’t run off or died. Somebody could have come and killed him, or maybe he bled to death. So much can go wrong when one is injured. She hoped he had found a safe place to rest while waiting for Feyth to return. Shazkai looked at Feyth with a perplexed expression plastered across her wise face. “What are you doing?” she muttered. She had noticed Feyth trying, too hard, to contact Korin. Feyth had scrunched up her face in concentration, though it did not change the effectiveness of her attempt. After a while, she finally received an answer from Korin. I’m where you found me Feyth, but I found some bushes to hide amongst. I didn’t want to be spotted by any other humans. His voice sounded upset, in pain. Feyth felt pity for him, surely it would be torture, alone in the wild, probably bleeding. Korin must have been feeling agonizing pain. Feyth hoped she and Shazkai could reach him soon, before it was too late to save him. She picked up her pace, walking faster than before. She, like Reyah, took longer strides and covered more distance than she had been. “C’mon,” she said quickly before breaking into a sprint. She headed to the crater, the clearing she had discovered Korin tangled in. She searched across the area for his hiding place, the one he had mentioned when they read each other’s minds. She hastily looked under bushes and peered behind trees, thought couldn’t spot his orange and black pelt. “To your left,” he sounded weary. She looked to her left, seeing him limping to her. Blood was drizzling down his body again, probably bleeding because he stood up and revealed himself to her. She stepped up to him and pressed his back downwards, motioning for him to lie down. He did so, collapsing slowly to the ground. His paws were spayed in many directions and his head lay motionless in the brown dirt. His tail lay across his back left paw and trailed along the dirt beyond his paw. His claws were digging into the dirt, tense and trembling ceaselessly. He looked so vulnerable, so fragile, as if a single movement would shatter him. The loss of blood was affecting him extensively. Feyth petted his warm fur tenderly, hoping that in some way it was helping him. A few tears trickled down her cheeks, she had tried to assist him and yet she was losing him. She was a failure, truly worthless. Tears streamed down his own face, disappearing into his soggy fur. His eyes were glazed, losing all life in them. Within their depths, she saw his despair. It pained her, so she shut her eyes tightly and refused to look anymore. Behind her, she heard the rustling of bushes. She gasped, looking quickly towards the disturbance. Shazkai emerged, trailed closely by Reyah. They had followed her after she had run, though slower due to their ages. Shazkai dropped to her knees beside Korin and quickly removed the satchel she had brought with her from her shoulder. Her hand plunged into the bad and returned out, grasping herbs and a bottle of some foreign liquid. Shazkai lifted Korin’s wing which was now limp. Korin lifted it for her, despite his growing weakness and held it above the wound. It too was trembling, due to the effort needed to hold it high. Shazkai carefully removed Feyth’s coat from his wound, letting loose a stream of blood. She closed her eyes, her face calm with concentration. She poured the liquid onto the blood, her eyes still shut. Feyth was bewildered by her precision. Shazkai’s eyes were closed and yet she poured the liquid perfectly, covering the entire length of the wound without wasting a single droplet. The bleeding instantly stopped and clogged itself up. The liquid use was effective, though there was still work to be done. Shazkai put some of the leaves in her mouth and chewed them thoroughly until they were nothing but a green mush. She rubbed the mush across his wound, spreading it. Her eyes were still shut, her face still emotionless. Feyth watched with wide eyes, impressed and astounded by the skill Shazkai possessed. The swelling of the wound rapidly decreased, making the wound seem smaller, more like a simple cut than a fatal wound. Reyah had no interest in the healing process whatsoever, she was too engrossed with hugging Korin’s head. He didn’t seem to mind though, it had brough a half hearted smile to his face. Shazkai took more leaves and offered them to Korin. She held them in front of his mouth. They smelled bitter and probably tasted no better. Korin was reluctant to eat them and rejected them even before she held them for him to eat. “Eat them,” she said in a superior tone, “they’ll ease the pain and help the healing,” she finished. Korin rolled his eyes, though only Feyth noticed. Korin lapped up the herbs with his tongue, wincing at the flavour. He rested his wing back down across his body, obviously relieved to no longer have to hold it up. Shazkai smiled and finally opened her eyes. “I am done, I have no healing to do anymore, though he cannot stay out here. Most of the herbs are temporary, he’ll need more through the night. We have to find somewhere where he can stay,” her voice turned from glad to grave. Feyth had no idea where he would stay, it would have to be someplace where nobody else would find him. Another issue was the transportation, how would they get him to wherever they decided on without him being spotted. Feyth though for a moment, but no place came to mind. She shook her head in defeat. “I have no idea where we could hide him,” she said softly. Reyah’s head perked up from where it had been laying on Korin. “Hey, I know a place!” she said, bubbling with excitement once again. Shazkai and Feyth both turned their gazes to her expectantly. “You know how I live on a farm, and you know how we used to have cattle? Well, we sold the cattle to expand our farm land” she continued. Feyth and Shazkai both nodded in unison, though were confused about where Reyah was headed with her speech. “So, we now have an empty barn, the one we originally kept the cattle in. Nobody in my family goes in there anymore and our farm is so secluded, there is only a small chance anybody will find Korin. Also, our farm is at the edge of the forest, nobody will see us going there!” she finished with pleasure. She was beaming, her entire face lit up. She was so proud of her accomplishment, producing a plan that made complete sense, one that could solve their problem. “That sounds great,” Feyth said, glancing at Shazkai for her approval. Shazkai nodded, “I think that could work,” she stood up, swinging her shoulder bag across her back. “So are we just going to lead him there?” Feyth glanced at Korin, who was staring at her attentively. “Yes, I believe I can sneak around,” he assured her. Feyth nodded, still watching Korin, “Yes, we’ll just have to be stealthy.” Feyth noticed out of the corner of her eye her black coat. She ambled over to it, bent down and lifted it up, holding it away from herself. It was heavy and dripping with crimson blood. Below it a pool formed, glistening in the sunlight that leaked through the canopy. “What am I going to do with this?” she groaned, the smell of it was foul, a putrid stench that was blown into her face by a warm breeze. Korin stretched his head forward and grasped the coat in his jaws. “I’ll carry it for you, you can cleanse it in the lake when you’re free. She looked down at her feet and shook her head. I don’t think I could possibly clean it enough to permanently remove the stench and blood,” she sighed. “Come on, let’s go!” Reyah exclaimed in impatience. She began walking in the general direction of the abandoned barn, beckoning for them to follow. Feyth placed a hand on Korin’s shoulder, careful not to hurt him further. “C’mon, let’s follow her,” she spoke to him, trying to sound kind, though she didn’t really know how you could change the voice of your thoughts. She would just have to learn. She headed into the forest, only just noticing how dark it was getting. As the sun set the trees cast tall shadows, which were quite frightening, and would scare many away from this peaceful forest. Feyth glanced around, on the lookout for any danger that may harm Korin. As they trekked, their footsteps crunched against the ground, branches, twigs and leaves were scattered across the forest floor and were the cause of these sounds. The air was thick and smelled of pine, though the forest contained no pine trees. Sudden vertigo overcame Feyth, and she began to stumble and walk crookedly. Only Korin noticed the sudden change, the other two were too far ahead to notice. He tried to balance her, but his efforts were useless. Feyth tripped and toppled to the ground, her outstretched arms slamming against the ground first, followed by her head and the rest of her body. She rolled over onto her back, preparing to stand back up, but the world was spinning above her, making her feel nauseous. She rolled back onto her stomach, closed her eyes. Her hands were stretched out above her head, one was lying on the ground and a few leaves, but the other lay upon something oddly cold, which intrigued her. She opened her eyes and gazed upon a gleam, concealed by leaves and twigs. She grasped it with her hand and pulled it up to her to have a better look at it. It glistened, though no light shone upon it. It was a perfectly round orb, clear but with a cloudy centre. The orb had a slight blue tinting to it, making it quite attractive. Attached to it was a long silver chain, which Feyth ran through her fingers. The entire object, including the chain, was cold, with no reason for being so. Feyth’s eyes were wide with wonder as she stared down at the object she had discovered. It could be worth a lot, something poor people like herself and her father could do with, but it was so beautiful, she desperately wanted to keep for herself. “What are you looking at, did you find something?” His voice startled her, interrupting her thoughts. She looked behind her and up at him. He was watching her intently, curious as to what had gained so much of her attention. She enclosed the orb in her hand and quickly said “Nothing,” forgetting that she could simply think what she wanted to say. He watched her still, unconvinced that she had found nothing, but didn’t pry. It was her business, he respected that. She put aside her selfish desires and decided then and there that she would sell it for as much as she could. She stood up, all dizziness gone, clutching the orb with the chain dangling out the side. She ran to catch up to Shazkai and Reyah, followed closely by Korin. She changed her pace to match Shazkai’s and opened her hand to show her what she had found. Korin, who was behind them, looked at the orb with awe, he had never seen anything like it, just as Feyth hadn’t. Shazkai looked down on it, and her expression showed a mixture of amazement and malice. “Where did you find that?” she said menacingly, scowling at Feyth. Feyth was taken aback, she had not expected this reaction, rather the same reaction that she and Korin shared. “O-on the ground,” Feyth stammered, enclosing her fingers around it again and bringing it close to her, in fear that Shazkai might take it from her. “I’m going to sell it,” Feyth said which only angered Shazkai further. “It chose a girl! A child!” she began talking to herself, while slapping her palm to her face numerous times. Feyth hadn’t seen her, or possibly anybody so distressed. “Shazkai…” Feyth murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to get her attention. Shazkai turned her head to glare at Feyth, a malicious look clouded her eyes as she shook Feyth’s hand from her shoulder. “How could this happen,” she sighed, closing her eyes and allowing a calmness to engulf her. She couldn’t understand why, but it would be wrong to treat Feyth, despite the turn of events, any different to how she had always treated her, as a friend. Feyth simply stared at Shazkai in utter shock, her legs trembling from the shock that the fury had caused. Never had anybody shown such hatred towards her, and she had no idea what she had done to deserve such a look. Shazkai now opened her eyes, her expression, but not her emotion, completely changed. “I’m sorry for my reaction,” she apologized, in almost a whispered. What she said would have been inaudible had Feyth not been so near to Shazkai at the time. Feyth glanced at Reyah and Korin quickly, Korin was by her side as she had expected, but Reyah had walked on ahead, unaware of Shazkai’s fury and their now seemingly private conversation. “We should get him to the barn,” Shazkai whispered again, though she sounded defeated, as if she had wanted to say something, desperately, but in the end hadn’t. Feyth placed her hand on the elderly woman’s shoulder again, though this time she was not rejected. Feyth’s bewilderment was evident in her glistening blue eyes. She gave Shazkai a questionaning look, but abandoned the idea of understanding what she had said when Shazkai walked away, following Reyah’s trail. Feyth was left standing next to Korin, who nudged her forwards and too began following. Feyth looked down at her hands again, once again opening them to peek at the orb. How could a simple trinket cause any trouble or damage? What could possibly anger Shazkai about a necklace? Feyth slipped the orb and chain into her pocket for safekeeping. She ran to catch up to the others, but made sure to keep her distance from Shazkai. Who knew what the shaman’s abilities were, especially when her emotions were unknown. Instead, Feyth walked alongside Korin, “How is your wound?” Korin’s head lowered a little, only then did she notice the glazed look in his eyes. She had no idea that cyjurs, or even animals could cry. “It’s fine, just painful,” he replied solemnly, though she could sense the pain in his voice. She smiled at him, not knowing what else to do. Calming another person was hard enough, calming a cyjur even more difficult. “Soon, we’ll be back at the barn, soon you’ll be safe. Shazkai can probably heal you better when she is closer to her hut, where she stores all her shaman potions and herbs and remedies.” His head hung low as they walked along the forest path. She felt pity for him, and hoped that because of what she had done for him, that they could be friends, whether he stayed near Solare or not. She then remembered that she was supposed to be tracking creatures, for killing rather than saving. She hoped her mentor would not be too bothered that she hadn’t found anything today. The two of them caught up to Shazkai and Reyah, who had stopped at the edge of the forest where the trees stood in a line against a grassy field. Near the other side of the field was the large barn, near the barn was the farmhouse. “Nobody is currently home right now,” Reyah said, “They in town shopping for supplies.” Shazkai nodded, then took the first step out into the field. The other three followed, Reyah taking the lead once more. They walked at a brisk pace, their feet crunching on the grass. They could still hear the sounds of the forest behind them, rustling, birds singing and the patter of tiny paws. Feyth kept glancing at Korin, her concern increasing. His legs had begun trembling, his head still drooped along with his tail. He looked not only tired and weak, but as if he was going to drop. “You can make it”. Eventually, they did make it to the barn without Korin going unconscious. Once they were inside, he found a corner where the ground was covered in scattered hay. He didn’t necessarily collapse, rather lay down and instantly fell asleep, but he did it all so fast, so ungracefully, that it seemed as if he collapsed. Feyth took the opportunity to run her hand along the top of his head, down to his back and all the way down to the base of his tail. He had a peaceful expression on his face, while he was asleep. Feyth smiled to herself, before leaving first. She knew he would be cared for, while she was gone. She had left him with Shazkai and Reyah, whom she trusted. She ran back to the village, quick as her legs would allow her to go. This was when she realised how exhausted she was. She dashed through the gate, leaping over large bag of hay that was placed in her way. She darted back and forth, dodging varied items and people. She was headed to her mentor’s home, to convince him that she had been gone, and had caught nothing because of a reason she had yet to decide. When she had finally reached the familiar house, amongst the other houses, she stood there, bending over to catch her breath. She knocked on the door quickly, made sure she was standing straight and prepared herself for the worst. Her mentor emerged from the door, a relieved expression flooded his features. He was a tall, lanky man with dark brown hair and similarly coloured brown eyes, one of the few hunters who excelled at tracking in Solare. “Thank goodness you’re back,” he said quietly before stretching out his arms. She smiled at him and hugged him. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed her tightly. Feyth let out a low grunt, which was more or less forced out of her when he squeezed. This was their usual embrace, bone crushing. When he finally released her, she was staring at her feet, guilty again that she had brought nothing back. “I’m sorry I failed you,” she gulped, her voice betraying her distress. She had no idea what punishment she had earned with her failure, she had not yet failed him. She hadn’t exactly been his trainee long, only a few years, so she had not experienced his anger yet. He had always been a kind, empathetic man and had always cared about her wellbeing. He noticed her discomfort, “My dear child, whatever is the matter?” he said softly, soothingly. Her gaze lifted, to stare at him, searching his expression. His returning gaze showed kindness, there were few as benign as him. “Are you not mad? I have brought you nothing, nothing to show from a day’s work. I am a terrible hunter, and I am an even worse tracker. I do not deserve your incredible teachings.” He sensed her increasing distress, but he was not upset. “But that is not true, you are an excellent hunter, and you are improving with your tracking. It’s a new skill and you still have time to learn. Do not pull yourself down, you have the gift of many skills you should honour. You have learned so much, and become skillful in your area of expertise. I am proud to be your mentor.” She looked down at her feet once more, dubious and sceptical. He could not possibly be telling the truth, how could be so calm about it? She sighed in exasperation, “If you say so.” He could tell she was still unhappy, and was worried about her. Lately, she hadn’t been the joyous, enthusiastic young girl whom he had been eager to teach, but rather a friend who he needed to help through some depression. He only hoped that he wasn’t going to increase her melancholy. “Are you okay?” She blinked up at him, wishing she could explain her feelings of inadequacy and uselessness to him, but he would never understand. No matter how hard he tried, he would never be as unwanted as her. “Yes.”

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