Within a modest home, cradled high in the ancient canopy of a colossal jungle tree, resided a young Prothio. It was no sprawling dwelling, nor echoing with mirth, for that solitary room held an orphan.
Prothios were an ancient race, their villages were clustered high in the canopies of the tallest trees, all encircling a gargantuan mountain-sized tree called Aetheros, the Tree of Life.
Local myth claims this tree has stood since the beginning of time, before any living species coexisted in this place. It's also said that all living things sprouted from Aetheros and spread across the world.
Living up in the trees was intrinsic to Prothio village way of life. They only descended to the forest floor to collect water and for ritualistic purposes, as certain terrestrial animals were used in some Prothian rituals, such as the rite of passage that takes place every time a male Prothian reaches the age of fifteen.
But you, reader, must be wondering what exactly a Prothio is? Well, a Prothio was a member of the Prothio race. The Prothio race was a human sub-race, known for having knees that could bend both forwards and backwards, instead of just forwards like those of common humans. This, along with webs between their fingers and toes extending to the first knuckle, significantly increased their grip on trees, as they were always scrambling along the branches where they built their villages. Prothios also had the incredible ability to turn their heads completely backwards, much like an owl, which gave them an advantage when running from predators or when hunting.
On the dawn preceding the day our tale truly unfolds, the ancient jungle stirred, unaware of the profound turning point awaiting one particular Prothio within its vibrant heart. Icaas was now sleeping quietly in his small tree shack. Being an orphan, he was always cared for by the villagers, and much beloved by all, for they considered him to have a good heart. So, they built him this small room close to Chief Beneto's home. Beneto was the elder of this village and had been responsible for Icaas since his parents lost their lives fleeing a giant bird of prey that lived in the forest.
***
The memory was a raw wound in Beneto's mind, a jagged splinter of a day he wished he could erase. He remembered the shrieking. Not the usual calls of the jungle, but a sound that ripped through the humid air, sharp as a hunter's talon. The villagers scrambled, some diving into hollows, others freezing in terror. But Icaas's parents, agile and swift, had been caught too high, too exposed on the upper branches of one of those colossal trees.
It was a winged titan, a creature well-known to the Prothios but rarely seen. Five times the size of any eagle, its immense form was a blur of dark feathers, its eyes like burning coals. The locals called it Unlur, saying it brought ill fortune. Its movements were as swift as a falling star, a feathered nightmare against the dappled light of the canopy. Icaas's mother, nimble as a lemur, tried to outpace it, her webbed hands scrambling for purchase. But Unlur was faster. Its shadow, vast and cold, swept over her just as she reached for a precarious vine. Her foot slipped on the slick bark. A gasp, a desperate flail of limbs – she was losing her grip, teetering on the edge of the abyss.
His father, only a breath behind her, saw it. He launched himself forward, a desperate, impossible leap across the void, his hand outstretched to grasp hers. For a fleeting second, their fingers touched, a desperate connection against the roaring wind and Unlur's screech. But the momentum, the sheer drop, was too great. Their joined hands slipped. He saw them fall, two small figures plummeting through the verdant layers, down, down, down, into the green depths that swallowed even the light. The sound of their impact, when it came, was not a crash, but a sickening, final thud lost amidst the vast indifference of the forest floor, eighty meters below.
***
Icaas woke with at the first sunlight of the day brushing against his eyelids through a small gap in the leaves that formed his room's wall. The dew's humidity could be felt on his dark skin, bringing with it a sense of cold, even though he lived in a place where the sun beat down relentlessly. Yet, mornings were always like this: cold and misty.
All that mist meant the day would bring scorching sun, which was great for Icaas, as he could do everything he enjoyed. Or perhaps not, for as he stepped out of his room, a tall figure wearing an orange wolf pelt as a coat awaited him:
"Good morning, Ic. I hope you rested well, because today we're starting to prepare your rite of passage for tomorrow, and I'm counting on you to get us some pork from down below," Beneto said with a jovial smile, one that almost made people forget this man was an elder in the village. Despite being the oldest Prothio there, Beneto was a muscular, adept hunter who showed vigor worthy of a young adult.
Every male Prothio attended the rite of passage when they reached the age of fifteen. The rite consisted of the young man climbing Aetheros and bringing back one canopy fruit. This was a golden-skinned fruit that grew only on Aetheros's uppermost branches.
As a matter of fact, you could bring any fruit from Aetheros, as they grew throughout the entire tree, but these fruits had different colors depending on how high you picked them. Most Prothios couldn't reach the topmost branches, and only a select few could retrieve a golden canopy fruit. Most could only get just beyond the halfway point of Aetheros, where mostly purple or red fruits grew. To reach a gold fruit was an honor and was seen as a sign that you were "promising" for the village, with most of those individuals becoming fighters. So, the main idea was always to try to reach for it.
Part of the ritual festivities included a meal based on the meat of a terrestrial animal, a rare delicacy in the Prothios' diet, which primarily consisted of fruits and small birds. So, on the day before the festival, a small group of hunters would take the initiate to the forest floor. Together, they would attempt to hunt an edible animal, so that everyone could feast upon the Prothio's return.
Icaas was highly agile, even for a Prothio, having spent most of his life trying to evade Beneto's scoldings whenever he misbehaved. He was incredibly mischievous, and because of this, he became very stealthy.
The descent was smooth. Three hunters climbed down a tree that formed a kind of natural ladder, reaching about four meters from the ground. From there, they tied a rope made from the leaves of climbing plants found higher in the trees, and then they descended to hunt.
Icaas was the fourth man to descend. Once they reached the forest floor, they split into pairs so they could search a wider area. Icaas was handed a spear made from the horn of an unknown beast—at least, unknown to him. He was quickly taught how to pierce with it. The spear was long and extremely light, balancing almost perfectly in his hands when held near the middle of the shaft. Because of this, Icaas found it highly easy to use.
The mist still clung to the forest floor, a thick, swirling veil that shrouded all but the nearest shapes. Visibility was poor, forcing the older Prothio accompanying Icaas to rely on his keen hearing to pinpoint any potential prey. Yet, the jungle itself seemed to conspire against him. The drip, drip, drip of moisture falling from saturated leaves, the soft rustle of unseen currents of air through dense foliage, and the distant, almost imperceptible hum of countless insects all blended into a confusing chorus, making it difficult to isolate any distinct animal sounds.
As time slowly crept by, the mist began to thin, grudgingly revealing more of the vast, emerald world around them.
In the quiet interim, Icaas learned that his partner was named Douh, one of the village's rare ground hunters. The only other was Chief Beneto himself, who, of course, wouldn't join this hunt, busy overseeing the ritual preparations. Douh carried a bow and a quiver of arrows, along with a sharpened bone fang that served as a dagger should he need to engage in close combat. Douh was even more muscular than Beneto, a powerful build evident beneath his hide tunic, but he was also much younger, in his early twenties.
"To your left, boy!" Douh's voice cut through the air as he drew his bow and fired in Icaas's direction. The shot was so swift Icaas didn't even have time to react; the arrow whistled past less than a hand's breadth from his head.
Thwack! The sound of the arrow piercing hide echoed, and as Icaas spun around, he watched a wild boar collapse from its feet, sprawling lifelessly on the ground.
"There's more of them on the go, prepare your spear, boy!"
Douh had another arrow nocked in his bow and was aiming at Icaas again. No, not at Icaas, but past him. Icaas couldn't see any other boars coming from behind, but his ears told him otherwise; a different rustling on the ground warned him that there was more than one.
The sound grew louder, and Icaas braced for the worst. Suddenly, from behind a tree, no fewer than four wild boars emerged, undoubtedly drawn by the scent of their fallen companion's blood. The largest of them charged directly at Icaas, who struck it with his spear, just enough to ward off a direct leap onto his body.
Zoop! Another arrow zipped past Icaas's side, and his ear registered its passage as it struck a slightly smaller boar to his left. Douh was already beside Icaas, another arrow at the ready.
"In the jungle, you either attack, or you are attacked," Douh said. "I'll leave the big one for you." With that, he fired another arrow, now to the other side of the largest boar, leaving only the alpha boar and one more, almost its same size, alive.
Icaas understood what Douh meant. He had only used the spear to defend himself from the alpha boar, and if Douh hadn't been there, the other boars probably would have attacked him the moment his spear was out of reach.
Douh lunged at the remaining boar, purposefully engaging it in close-quarters combat.
The alpha boar lunged towards Douh, but a sharp pain shot through its body. Icaas had jabbed its hindquarters, but not with enough force, which only infuriated the boar further. It then leaped at Icaas, who wasn't prepared for the boar's agility, having assumed it would be slower due to its injury. Icaas merely dodged its head-butt, barely having time to steady himself before he was attacked again, forced to jump to dodge once more. This game of chase lasted for about five minutes, which felt like hours to Icaas; his legs, tired from so much jumping, were beginning to fail. It was then that Icaas noticed Douh standing behind the boar, bow in hand, doing nothing but observing Icaas's performance, the other boar split from head to tail by the dagger.
"Can you help me? This thing doesn't like me!" Icaas yelled.
"If you'd attacked it instead of just defending yourself, we'd be heading back already," Douh roared back, yet still didn't loose his arrow. "Just focus. I won't let that little pig hurt you, but I won't make it easy for you either."
At that instant, the boar had recovered and leaped at Icaas again, who once more skillfully dodged a sure head-butt. The boar slammed into a tree and was dazed for a few seconds. This was the opportunity Icaas had been waiting for. Using all his strength, he leaped with his spear over the boar and pierced its hide. The boar shrieked with the attack; this time, the spear had gone deep. In the swift movement the boar made, with part of the spear still lodged in its body, it was enough to snap the spear's shaft, leaving only the handle in Icaas's hand.
Damn it, Icaas thought.
The boar, screaming in pain, prepared for another leap. Blood gushed from the wound. This leap came clumsily, and Icaas had no difficulty dodging it. Turning again, the boar attempted another attack, even more uncoordinated. Icaas didn't even need to dodge this time.
The boar lowered its head, staggered twice, and fell.
"You hit the heart, boy. Good strike."
The boar stopped moving. It was dead.
Icaas was exhausted. He hadn't realized hunting could be so exhausting. Even though his fight with the boar had lasted only five minutes, it felt much longer to him. He sank to the ground, catching his breath. A wave of exhilaration, a potent mix of relief and triumph, surged through his weary body.
Douh allowed him a short rest before helping him to his feet; they needed to get back. It took two trips just to carry the five boars to their ascent point. As they finished tying the boars to the ropes for other Prothios to haul up, the other hunting pair returned. Each carried a deer on their back, and seeing the boars, they laughed. "Looks like we got the easy work after all," one of them quipped.
The hunt was declared over; the seven animals were more than enough for the entire village to have meat the next day. The two deer hunters were the first to ascend, followed by Douh, and then Icaas. Douh climbed with such ease it seemed the branches moved beneath his feet to facilitate his ascent. Icaas, even with his agility, found it difficult to keep pace with the veteran hunter.
It was early afternoon when they arrived back at the village. Douh, Icaas, and the other two hunters went straight to Chief Beneto's hut. After hearing Douh recount what had happened on the forest floor and seeing Icaas's exhaustion, Beneto congratulated him and released him from his duties for the day. After lunch, Icaas spent the rest of the afternoon talking with his friends before heading to his room as evening began to set in.
Man, I'm completely spent. How do they expect me to climb Aetheros with my legs this tired after hunting? Icaas thought.
Icaas fell asleep almost instantly and had a strange dream where he faced a terrible gale while trying to climb Aetheros, stumbling and falling repeatedly along the way.
A female voice echoed in his ears, waking Icaas abruptly:
"Welcome, chosen of the Wind. Your mission is to reach the summit of Aetheros."