Siegfried Fors
The damp earth yielded softly beneath our boots as we moved deeper into the forest, each step accompanied by the rustle of unseen small creatures watching from behind thickets. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the dense canopy in broken streams, casting golden spears across the underbrush.
Silas moved steadily beside me, quiet and vigilant, while soldiers fanned out through the foliage in cautious formation. They scanned the trees with weapons at the ready, alert to every unnatural sound. They looked quite scared to me, knowing monsters or magic beasts could attack them from anywhere.
At the front of the column, she walked like a silver storm on silent feet—My Mother. Her white coat fluttered faintly behind her as she spun her double-headed axe into a single hand. The motion looked effortless, almost idle, but every subtle twist of her wrist spoke of readiness, of a restrained power honed to perfection.
A tug broke me from the sight.
Something clamped down tightly on my right shoulder, fingers tense and trembling. On the other side, a smaller hand swayed mine from side to side, carefree and almost dancing.
I suppressed a sigh as the jungle's breath pressed in around us.
"Just why did you two come?"
James stood glued to my arm, his face pale and drawn as his eyes darted from one shadow to another. His voice was barely a whisper when it came. "A-Auntie said I should come, so…"
Then there was Erina, smiling as if we were out picking flowers in a sunlit meadow. "Lord Sieg and Lord James were coming, so I came too," she chirped, her eyes bright as stars. Not a trace of fear and not a drop of hesitation.
One came without a choice, and fear clung to him like sweat.
The other had every choice in the world, and not a flicker of doubt.
God is so unfair
But... With her around, maybe there really wasn't anything to fear.
I glanced ahead again.
Mother hadn't once looked back. She didn't need to. No matter how she acted, her presence was a wall between us and danger.
Then a soft gust stirred the branches above us, "Fuuaa."
We all lifted our heads skyward just in time to see Faux soar down. He landed atop my head with a soft thud and a little wiggle.
His thoughts brushed against mine like a whisper through fog.
"He says he found something ahead. Not dangerous, or so he thinks."
Mother looked ahead. Her eyes narrowed toward the trees. "I can sense it too. A weak mana signature. Let's go and see."
Silas stepped forward, voice low but firm. "Lady Valka, would it be fine to bring the children along?"
"It's alright," she said without pause. "It's too weak. Most likely a child beast."
And just like that, the decision was made.
The brush parted as we pressed on. Faux leapt from my head and moved ahead, before hovering over a spot just beyond a patch of moss-covered stones.
He circled once, then descended, paw outstretched toward something nestled in the grass.
We gathered around.
There, half-hidden by the tall reeds and dappled shadows, lay a small creature, barely larger than a housecat. A bear cub, unmistakably so. Its fur was a dark, mossy green, blending with the undergrowth like living camouflage. Around its muzzle, the fur faded into a stony gray, the same shade forming a thick tuft beneath its neck, almost like a ruffled collar of smoke.
It was lying on its side, completely motionless, but it was still breathing. A deep gash marred its hind leg, and blood soaked the grass around it.
Mother stepped forward first, gaze sharp and thoughtful. Her weapon remained in her hand,
"Another species that shouldn't be here," she muttered, crouching down with narrowed eyes.
Silas approached behind her. "Green bears, right?"
She nodded. "They are. Native to the forests beyond the cliffs. Renowned for their unique mana-infused hides, a natural defense that makes their fur highly prized."
A familiar, unsettling sensation tightened in my chest. It was a jolt back to my old world, where animals were commodities, valued for their fur, their horns... their utility. Here, magic beasts were no different from mere resources, whether living or dead.
Silas's voice cut through my thoughts. "If there's a child here, its parents can't be far."
Mother's gaze drifted to the forest's edge. "They should be. But this far from home, they're likely gone, or dead."
Then, without a flicker of hesitation, she raised her axe.
The blade caught the light, poised directly over the cub's head.
"So let's finish this and move forward."
"No, wait!" The word tore from my throat, and before I knew it, I was at her side. My feet crushed bloodied grass as I slid to a stop, breath caught in my chest. "What… what are you doing?"
Her gaze, flat and unyielding, met mine. "It may look small now, but it's already capable of hunting lesser monsters. Give it a few years, and it'll grow. Then it'll start targeting humans."
"But it's so small," I said, voice trembling. "It's just a child… How can you just kill it?" The words hung in the air, a desperate plea.
Then, an unexpected chorus of voices, small but resolute, joined mine.
"Auntie, please!" James's voice, earnest and clear, cut through the tension.
"Please don't kill him," Erina added, her tone soft, pleading. "It's so small and cute."
Mother's expression shifted, a flicker of something akin to guilt crossing her face, as if she'd been caught in the midst of a shameful act. She exhaled slowly, the sharp edge of her resolve softening. The weapon lowered, resting against the ground with a dull thud.
"Fine," she murmured, "So, what do you think we should do with him?" she asked, a hand rising to scratch the back of her head, her voice laced with a surprising hint of uncertainty.
I blinked, surprised by the question. "...Heal him?"
"Do whatever you want," Mother conceded, turning away, already looking toward the path ahead.
As the others relaxed, I knelt beside the bear, the wound already oozing less, Faux hopping down beside me his tail flicking as he tilted his head, watching intently.
I reached out slowly, palm open, careful not to make a sound.
But the moment my fingers brushed the air above its head—
Its eyes snapped open.
A wild glint of green met mine, and with a low, guttural snarl, the cub lunged.
"Wha—!"
I staggered backward, heart pounding as the bear's teeth snapped where my hand had been moments before. It landed hard on its wounded leg with a yelp of pain, collapsing in a heap, growling through the agony.
"Damn it," I hissed, catching my breath.
The brush behind me rustled all at once.
"Sieg!"
James stumbled over, face pale.
"Are you alright?" Erina gasped, clutching my sleeve.
Mother's boots struck the earth like thunder as she stepped forward, halberd half-raised.
"Young Lord," Silas said, hand already on his sword.
"I'm fine," I said quickly, brushing dust from my palms. My eyes returned to the bear, now panting through its sharp little fangs, dragging its body weakly back into the grass like a cornered animal.
"That does it," Mother muttered. She strode forward, each step final, her halberd swinging back into both hands.
"Stop!" I shouted, throwing myself between her and the cub.
She halted mid-step, eyes narrowing.
"Move," she said, not cruelly, but angrily.
"No," I replied, voice unwavering.
Her gaze flicked to the bear, then back to me. "You seriously still want to help it? After that?"
"I do," I said, meeting her eyes firmly.
She said nothing at first, her silence heavy. Then, with a sigh, she lowered her weapon slightly.
"And why is that, Siegfried?"
The name fell like a stone. She only ever said it fully when she was serious. Toootallly Serious
I glanced behind me. The little bear still glared at me, but its breathing was uneven. Pain and fear rippled from it like heat off stone. It had lashed out, not out of hatred, but because that was all it knew. A cornered thing… all alone between strangers.
"If we kill everything that's scared and hurt and lashes out," I said quietly, "then what are we?"
Her expression softened, just for a breath.
Her grip on the halberd loosened. The weapon dipped, its edge no longer aimed at the cub.
"Tch," she breathed, turning her head slightly. "Fine. Do what you want. Just… try not to lose a hand."
A smile crept onto my face. "Thank you, Mother."
She clicked her tongue again, but didn't look at me. "Hmph."
A faint flush colored her cheeks.
I turned back toward the cub.
Silas stepped forward, his armored boots crunching lightly on fallen leaves. "Young lord, shall I restrain it for you?"
I shook my head. "No need."
My hand slipped into the magic pouch at my hip, fingers brushing books and glass until I found what I needed, a small test tube filled with pale white liquid. I held it up, the light catching faint whorls of drifting sediment within.
"Everyone, please step back. It's a sleeping potion."
There was a shuffle of movement as James and Erina backed away with wide eyes. Silas followed without a word.
Only Mother remained where she stood, arms crossed, watching me like a hawk, not interfering, but not leaving either.
I stepped forward slowly, each movement measured. The cub growled low, a sound that trembled more from pain than threat. Its claws scratched weakly at the earth, eyes still hazy with defiance.
I crouched just far enough that the bear couldn't reach me and tilted the vial carefully, letting a single drop fall to the mossy ground. I jumped back.
The liquid hit the earth, and immediately began to evaporate, mist curling up like breath in winter.
Within seconds, the bear's body wobbled. Its growls slurred, jaws slackening. Then, with a low growl, it slumped forward into sleep.
"It's done," I said softly, moving closer once again.
"That was amazing, Sieg!" James said behind me, voice full of awe.
"You're starting to become more and more like your granny," mother added.
I smiled faintly.
Funny. Granny said I was becoming more like Mother.
Kneeling beside the unconscious bear, I placed my hands just above its injured leg. Warmth gathered in my head as I reached into the depths of my soul crucible, drawing mana to my palms.
"Restora vinca."
A soft glow lit the air. Flesh knit together beneath my hands, the wound closing seamlessly.
Within moments, there was no trace of the injury, only the slow, steady rise and fall of peaceful breathing.
I let out a long breath and looked over my shoulder. James and Erina stood a few paces away, their eyes wide with fascination.
"I know what you're thinking," I said, before they could speak. "No. It's dangerous."
Their shoulders slumped in unison, disappointment clear on their faces.
"What now?" Mother asked from behind, tone dry. "Going to raise him like a pet?"
I glanced at the sleeping cub, then at the bloodstained grass, then back to her.
"Can I?" I asked with a wry smile.
She exhaled loudly and pressed her hand to her forehead. "Unbelievable."
"Silas."
"Yes, Lady Valka?" he stepped forward again, ever ready.
"Take the cub, soldiers and the children, back to the barony. Sieg and I will continue ahead."
Oh. Do I not count as Child anymore?
"As you command." Silas nodded, his tone sharp and respectful as ever.
He moved to carefully lift the cub into his arms.
"Ehh? But I wanted to see more!" Erina pouted.
Mother allowed herself a small smile. "Next time. When the forests are less dangerous."
Erina's head drooped. Behind her, James let out a breath of quiet relief, as if he'd just been spared from a monster's den.
"We came straight from the west trail," Mother added. "I don't sense any threats on the return path. You should be fine."
Silas saluted, turning back toward the jungle's edge. "Let's move. Stay close."
James and Erina turned to me one last time.
"Bye, Lord Sieg!"
"Be careful, okay?"
Mother and I gave them a wave, watching as all of them disappeared into the forest, the little bear safely cradled in Silas' arms.
And then silence returned.
Just the rustle of wind in the canopy, the creak of swaying boughs, and the soft weight of Faux settling on my head again.
We stood there a moment longer, neither of us looking at the other, both still watching the path they had taken.
"So, Sieg… can you see it?"
I knew what she meant the moment she said it. I had felt it, just after the healing finished. A flicker on the edge of my senses, like breath against skin.
"I can," I answered quietly. "Did the others not see it?"
She shook her head slightly. "I think it's using a wind-based concealment spell. Sloppy, but good enough to fool anyone not paying attention."
A soft "fuwaa" sounded from Faux above me, his tail flicking as he confirmed it.
Wait. My brow furrowed.
But Silas is Delta stage. How could even he miss it?
No. That wasn't the most important question right now.
"What's it doing?" I asked softly. "It's just… watching us."
Mother's eyes narrowed. "Let's find out."
We turned in unison and it was hard to believe what I was seeing.
Peeking from behind a thick tree trunk was… a bird.
A big, fat, round bird with feathers like sunlight and a body that looked more inflated than built was watching us, half-hidden, half-exposed, its wide, intelligent eyes fixed on ours.
We stared at it.
It stared back.
A long, awkward pause.
Then, as if realizing we could see it, the bird panicked. It jerked its head back and slammed its fat body behind the tree, as though its round form could possibly vanish like that.
Mother and I shared a look.
Then, without a word, we lunged.
The bird let out a screeching "SQUAWK!" and stumbled backward. Mother was the first to reach it, grabbing the creature and tossing it into a clearing like a sack of grain.
It flapped wildly, trying to take off, but she was faster.
With a firm grip, she seized it by the tail feathers and slammed it back to the ground. The bird made a strangled chirping sound as she placed a boot on its puffed chest.
"Oh no," she said flatly. "You're not going anywhere."
A wide-eyed look of betrayal spread across the bird's face. If it could cry, it might have.
"Hm?" Mother leaned in closer. Her eyes narrowed. "Wait a second… is this for real? What is this thing doing here?"
I stepped beside her, looking down at the flailing fluffball. "And where's this bird from?" None of the other beasts were native either, this one should be the same.
She didn't answer right away. Her eyes scanned the feathers, the patterns, the trembling, oversized wings.
"It's not even from this continent," she muttered. "This thing's from Dhurgar."
"Dhurgar?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
Dhurgar.
That name stirred a memory. The continent west of Aethelgia. All I knew was that dwarves lived there.
Mother grabbed the bird by the thick feathers on its chest and lifting it upright. The bird flailed slightly, then froze, its wings drooping.
"Why are you here?" she asked it sternly.
The bird squawked and shook its head, almost violently, feathers puffing out like a dandelion in a storm.
I tilted my head. "Mother… have you been to Dhurgar?"
She paused, then dropped the bird with a sigh. "Ah, yeah. During a quest in my early days."
The bird tried to waddle away while she was talking.
Without looking, Mother stepped on it again.
The bird made a wheezing phooof noise and looked up at me with moist, pleading eyes.
"This," Mother continued, "is a Clever Parrot. They're native to Dhurgar. Used in wind sports, message delivery, even short-distance travel. Wind affinity experts, despite their looks."
I looked at the poor creature again.
It was absurdly round, its fluffy body covered in vibrant yellow feathers. Splashes of red and orange flared around its face, head, and wingtips like fire, while subtle hints of green flickered near its tail and lower wings. Its curved beak looked almost too big for its head, giving it a perpetually confused expression.
It looked less like a magical beast and more like a walking fruit salad.
"…Is that so?" I said, blinking slowly.
Its giant round eyes blinked back.
"Why don't we let Faux ask him?" I suggested, pointing up to my head where Faux now sat like a crown.
Both Mother and the parrot turned to look at me.
Then, surprisingly, Mother smiled. "Oh. Nice idea."
A few seconds later, the parrot sat in the grass with its stubby talons spread out before it, eyes dim with defeat, as if all hope had been plucked from its feathers. Mother and I stood before it, arms crossed, unmoved by its dramatic display of misery.
I gave a slight nod. "Faux, do your thing."
Faux leapt gracefully from my head and hovered before the rotund bird. He floated there with an air of authority, then let out a sequence of melodic sounds—fua fa fauu fa.
The bird lifted its head with a tragic sigh and replied in a series of low, depressed croaks. Queh… queh… queeeeh…
I closed my eyes, focusing.
I'd been improving lately. The more time I spent around Faux, the clearer his thoughts became when he bridged them with mine.
Words began to take shape in my mind, fragments drifting into place like puzzle pieces:
"I, the great parrot. Fastest flier of the tribes. Most popular. Females used to chase me across the sky. Pathetic humans dying to ride on my glorious—"
My eyes snapped open as I conjured a ball of mana and shot the bird clean on the head.
It let out a sharp SQUAAAWK, flailed dramatically, and rolled onto its back, feet twitching in the air.
"I'm not interested in your grand biography," I said, mana still crackling faintly in my hand. "Tell us why you're here."
Mother raised an eyebrow. "What did it say?"
"Absolute nonsense." I sighed. "Faux, ask him again. And tell him if he starts bragging again, he's getting deep-fried."
Faux nodded solemnly like an ambassador of reason and turned back to the feathered dramatist.
Fuuuaaaa faaauuu fa fu fua fa fack fyu
The parrot froze mid-flail, blinked, then scrambled upright so fast it looked like it had been electrocuted. It shot me a terrified glance, then quickly turned to Faux and let out a quick series of anxious chirps.
Que queh queh!
It lifted one stubby wing and pointed off into the trees.
I closed my eyes once more. The meaning filtered in swiftly this time:
"Captured. Brought here. Escaped. Can show."
I looked to Mother. "He says he was captured and transported here. He escaped… and he can show us where."
Her lips curled into a faint smirk. "Is that so?"
She turned to the bird with a gleam in her eyes. "Let's go then. Up. Stand."
The bird jumped to its feet so fast it nearly tripped over itself.
Without hesitation, Mother stepped forward and vaulted onto its back in one smooth motion. The feathers barely flinched.
"Come on, Sieg."
"We're… riding this?"
"Yes," she said, patting the bird's back like it was a prized steed. "They're fun."
I looked at the bird's trembling knees and overly round frame.
"I'd be more worried it'll slam us into the ground."
"Oh, just come on," she said, extending her hand.
With a sigh of resignation, I took it. She pulled me up behind her with ease.
Faux scampered up and landed triumphantly on the bird's head.
Mother gave a nudge with her foot. "Up, Fatty."
Queeh!
The bird let out a determined cry and began running.
"Are we… running?" I asked, confused by the waddling sprint we had apparently mounted.
Then I felt it.
The air shifted. Mana began to swirl around us. A low whistle of wind coiled at our sides. Then, with a surge, the breeze beneath us exploded outward.
The world dropped away.
We soared upward in a rush of golden feathers and whipping leaves, the jungle canopy falling away below us.
We were flying.
"It uses magic to fly?" The question spilled out, a whisper of awe and disbelief.
Mother nodded, her hair whipping in the wind. "I was surprised too, the first time I witnessed it. They naturally channel wind element, using it to augment their speed and generate lift. It's an innate ability, unlike our learned application."
A low whistle escaped me. "Wow." To think… this absurdly fat bird was actually amazing. It defied every expectation.
Below us, the emerald sea of trees began to shift. Then, without warning, the bird tilted downward sharply.
"W-wait—!"
Before I could react, it descended fast, wings angling sharply, until we hit the ground with a heavy THUD, a blast of air bursting out from under its wings and sending leaves swirling around us.
As the air cleared, my eyes swept over the scene. "Why did it suddenly—" My words died in my throat. On the road before us lay a large cargo carriage, its back doors torn from their hinges, sprawled on the ground like broken wings. Crates were scattered across the dirt road like discarded toys.
But none of that was the disturbing part.
Bodies littered the path.
Blood soaked the road.
Many were headless, others, bisected cleanly at the waist. Crimson pooled beneath lifeless limbs.
A wave of nausea surged, and my hand flew to cover my mouth, bile stinging the back of my throat.
"Just what happened here?" Mother's voice cut through the horrified silence as she effortlessly dismounted the bird. She offered her hand, and I took it shakily as I climbed off the bird's back. My knees felt weak.
Faux remained seated atop the parrot, both of them oddly still.
Mother said nothing. She stepped forward with practiced calm, her eyes scanning the scene, not touching anything, just carefully examining everything.
I stayed back. For me, the sight was too much, a raw wound on my senses. My gaze instinctively found Faux, still perched calmly on the fat bird's head. "Ask him," I urged, my voice tight, "what happened here?" The bird had obviously escaped; it must have seen something. The sheer scale of destruction seemed beyond its capabilities.
Faux nodded, then let out a clear sequence of sounds. Fuuua fua fau.
The parrot stiffened. Its feathers ruffled, and it responded in shaky tones. Queh… queh queee…
I closed my eyes, letting Faux's translation guide my thoughts.
"Cage. In wooden cart. The cart stopped. Humans screaming. Dangerous black iron human opened the cage. Disappeared into forest."
I opened my eyes, trying to make sense of it.
Black iron human? Was it a beast, perhaps one encased in some natural armor? Or was it… a person, armored from head to toe? A mercenary? A soldier?
My mind wrestled with the implications.
"This isn't the work of magic beasts or a monster," Mother stated, walking back towards us.
I looked at her. "How do you know?"
"The cuts are clean," she reiterated, her gaze sweeping over the mangled forms. "They weren't torn apart, but split cleanly."
"According to the bird," I explained, gesturing vaguely, "a 'dangerous black iron human' is responsible for this."
Her brow furrowed slightly. "Black iron human? Were they wearing armor, or something like that?"
"That's what I thought too," I admitted, the bizarre nature of the description unsettling me. "But isn't it strange how no one has reported it yet? This is the main road to the port city, Tidefall."
"It must have happened early in the morning," she mused, her eyes calculating. " The bodies haven't fully bloated yet. "
Understandable. In any world, people usually began their journeys at dawn to make the most of the day. It must be around Ten in the morning now, so the attack would have occurred before the sun had fully risen.
"For now," she said, drawing in a breath, "we report this and have people sent to clean it up."
Her hand dipped into her magic pouch. "Now, where is it…?"
She dug for a moment before pulling out a small, hexagonal prism, a blue crystal, its facets catching the light.
"What is that?" I asked, intrigued despite the gruesome tableau around us.
"You haven't seen it before?" she replied, holding it up. "It's a communication crystal. They come in pairs and utilize an application of sound magic, which is a variant of wind magic."
"I see." My mind instantly jumped to the past. A substitute for phones? This world never ceased to surprise me with its strange blend of magic and mundane.
The crystal pulsed gently in her palm, reacting to her mana. "Hello, Ma, can you hear me?"
"Valka? What happened?" Granny's voice, surprisingly clear and sharp, resonated from the crystal.
Mother succinctly explained everything, her voice steady even as she described the corpses, the carriage, the strange parrot, and the phrase black iron human.
I just stood beside her in silence, watching the blood dry in the road and wondering what kind of person—no, thing, did this.
We waited for the cleanup crew to arrive. In the meantime, Mother passed the time by bullying the parrot.
She poked its puffed belly. Tied leaves to its head like a crown. At one point, she even tried to balance Faux on end of its beak like some ridiculous statue. The bird responded with theatrical sighs and the slow collapse of its stubby legs.
Honestly, I almost felt sorry for it... Almost.
An hour later, the low rumble of wheels and hooves signaled Silas' return. He arrived at the head of a dozen soldiers, riding in a transport cart. As soon as he saw us, he dismounted and saluted crisply.
"Lady Valka. Young Lord."
Then he turned to the task without wasting a breath, barking orders with the precision of a man who had done this far too many times.
"Careful with those bodies. Wrap the torsos separately. Check for any documents or emblems, do not open the bags once sealed!"
Mother and I remained at a distance, watching quietly.
I turned to her. "Are we heading back now?"
She squinted up at the sun, hand on her hip. "Hmm… I don't sense anything nearby anymore. Whatever caused this, it's not here now."
I nodded, then turned toward the side of the road, where Faux and the bird stood facing one another, chattering like two gossiping old women.
"Faux," I called.
The little fox perked up and flew over.
"Fau fua fuuuua," he barks, voice lower than usual.
I frowned, closing my eyes.
The words came through his thoughts like faint echoes on wind.
"More dead. In the forest."
My eyes flew open. "What?"
Mother turned sharply. "What did he say?"
"He says… there are more bodies in the forest."
Her brows knit. "More?" She looks at the bird. "Is that right, Fatty?"
The bird gave a solemn "Queh" and raised one stubby wing in confirmation.
Mother didn't hesitate.
"Alright then." She reached out, grabbed me by the back of my collar, and in one smooth motion yoinked me up and landed squarely on the parrot's back.
"SQUAAWK!" the bird yelped as we landed, wings flapping awkwardly.
"Lead us there," she declared.
"Silas," she called over her shoulder, "I'm leaving everything here to you."
"Yes, Lady Val—Wait… What is that?" he asked, finally noticing the giant tropical bird we were mounting.
Did he seriously not see the bird until now?
"No time," I said "And it's a long boring story."
Mother gave the bird a firm kick to the side. "Let's go, Fatty."
Faux hopped to his usual place atop its head, tails swishing in the air.
The parrot started waddling forward with surprising speed, flapping its wings rapidly. A spiral of air gathered around us again, stronger this time.
Then, with a gust that rippled everything around us, we took to the sky once more.
The bird carried us westward, wings carving through the sky, until Silas and everyone else were only a memory behind us. I noticed the shift in its flight, further than before, the dark treeline growing larger with each beat of its wings. Then, without warning, the creature tilted downward. The wind roared in my ears as the bird plunged, feathers vibrating under the strain of the dive. I pressed myself against its broad back, gripping tight to keep from being flung off, jaw clenched against the rush of air.
The descent ended in a thunderous impact. Talons crushed earth and leaves as the bird struck the forest floor with such force that dust and loose branches whirled outward in a spiraling gust. My teeth rattled with the landing.
This bird… really needs to learn how to land properly.
A groan stayed lodged in my chest as I lifted my head. Mother's voice broke the stillness first.
"What the…?"
Her tone pulled me fully upright, and I forced myself to look around. The sight that greeted me twisted something deep inside.
The forest was broken. Great trees lay scattered like corpses of their own, some wrenched from the soil, roots torn out and dangling clods of earth; others severed cleanly, their trunks split and jagged where the cut had fallen. The ruin was unsettling enough, but it was not the worst.
Bodies.
Huge, hulking shapes littered the ground, their dark-green fur dulled with death. Along their spines ran thick, stony ridges of gray, like mohawks frozen in stone. Their massive forms were riven apart, flesh torn, innards spilled, the stink of iron and rot clinging to the air.
I turned away from the scene, swallowing against the bile threatening to rise. I could not look at them.
Mother's boots crunched against broken branches as she slid from the bird's back. She stood among the wreckage, eyes tracing the carnage, and spoke in a low, steady voice.
"Looks like the little one lost his entire family."
Her words sank into me like a blade. Against my better judgment, I glanced back, forcing my gaze across the fallen.
"…Are they…?" My voice cracked before I could stop it.
"Green bears," she confirmed softly, kneeling to inspect the scarred earth near one of the trees. "Most likely kin of the cub you saved."
The words turned the air heavier.
I drew in a long breath through my nose, as if I could steady myself with it, then climbed down from the bird. My feet landed hard on the ground. I tried to keep my eyes forward, but the sight tugged at me from every corner.
"So… do you think the same thing's responsible for this?" I asked. My throat felt raw.
Mother rose and turned back toward me, her expression shadowed. "It looks that way. Brute strength and a sharp weapon. The same marks in both places."
The memory of the road returned, the slashed bodies, the cage torn as though by bare hands. My steps carried me toward one of the bodies almost without thinking. The bear's form was slumped near an uprooted tree, its spine marred with a deep gash. Unlike the others, much of its body remained intact. I crouched beside it, pressing my palm to the cold fur.
The chill sank into me.
This one, too, was gone. A creature that should have been towering and terrible now lay silent, robbed of all strength. A pack scattered. A family destroyed. I could almost see the cub's round eyes, hear his small growls, now alone, with no den to return to, no warmth of kin to curl against.
Something brushed against my hair. A hand, warm and gentle, pressing down. Fingers combed lightly, almost absently, through my head, easing against my scalp.
I looked up. Mother stood over me, her gaze calm but softer than I was used to seeing.
"Don't cry."
It was only then I felt the sting at the corners of my eyes, the hot blur threatening to fall. I swiped at them quickly, shaking my head.
"I—I'm not crying." The words tumbled out, steadier than I felt.
Her lips curved into a faint smile. "Good."
Faux flew in front of me, staring and tilting his head. "Fuuuaaa?" he barked before moving closer and rubbing his head against my cheek. I couldn't help but smile, slowly stroking his fur.
Mother glanced back toward the treeline. "I don't sense anything else here. We should return for today."
The words lifted me back to my feet, but my chest remained heavy. The cub's loss weighed on me more than I wanted to admit.
"Let's not leave them here."
Mother's voice cut into the silence. She stepped past me without hesitation, stooping beside the fallen green bear. Her hands slid under its bulk, and with a casual flex of strength she lifted the carcass overhead.
I stared at her, words slipping before I could stop them. "What…?"
"Sieg, open your magic pouch."
I just stared at her in disbelief. "What?"
"They'd be of no use rotting here." Her tone was simple, practical, almost cold.
The protest rose to my tongue. It's inhumane. They're dead, let them rest, don't turn them into things to be stored away. But the thought snagged against an old memory, a truth that belonged to my first world: even there, a price could be placed on anyone, whether living or lifeless. Value did not vanish with the last breath.
All I could do was... Obey. With a quiet motion, I tugged the pouch open.
One by one, she fed them in. The pouch swallowed what my heart could not. Each bear vanished into its dark pocket of space, yet the scent did not vanish. The sharp tang of iron, the rot beginning to creep, filled my nose and clung to the back of my throat until I thought I would choke on it. I kept my eyes fixed on the trees instead, but no matter where I looked the smell followed.
When the last carcass disappeared, Mother brushed her hands together and straightened. "Let's go back."
"…Yes." My voice was quiet, but steady.
We mounted the fat bird once more. Its wings beat the air, lifting us through the trees until the forest was only a shadow beneath us. I turned my head, looking down one last time. The clearing, scarred by torn roots and broken trunks, vanished beneath the canopy. A heaviness settled in my chest as though I had left something unfinished there.
The bird carried us toward Fors Barony. The rooftops soon appeared, specks of gray and red. People shaded their eyes as the shadow of the bird passed overhead, their voices rising in shouts of alarm, awe, and confusion.
We landed with another bone-jarring thud before the manor gates. Soldiers rushed to meet us, steel in hand, but when their eyes found me and Mother they stiffened, saluting in unison.
The doors opened. Granny and Grandpa stepped out.
"Valka, what is—" Grandpa's voice broke as his gaze lifted to the enormous bird.
Granny's eyes narrowed. "So this is the bird from Dhurgar. Quite different from what I expected."
The bird, as if understanding, raised one stubby wing in a stiff parody of a greeting.
Granny's lips curved faintly. "Hmm. The 'clever' part isn't wrong." She stepped forward, stroking its neck. The bird let out a soft rumble, leaning into her hand.
Mother and I dismounted. Faux leapt from the bird's head to my shoulder.
Mother wasted no words. She told them everything, what we found on the road, the slaughtered caravan, the cub, the forest, the corpses, and finally, the phrase spoken by the bird: Black iron human.
Grandpa's jaw tightened. "Is that why so many beasts have been moving toward us?" He turned to Granny. "What do you think?"
"Maybe," she said, arms folding, gaze far away. "The question is whether this black iron thing is hunting our barony directly… or if its path is only chance."
"Either way, we should increase patrols," Grandpa suggested.
Granny gave a short nod. "For now, yes." She turned her eyes back to Mother. "Valka, what do you intend to do with that bird?"
At that, the creature made its own decision, shuffling backward, then turning, as if to escape unnoticed.
"Ah." Mother's hand shot out without even glancing. She seized its tail feathers and yanked. The bird squawked, a strangled, furious sound, wings flailing.
"I was thinking you'd let me keep it," she said with dangerous cheer.
The bird twisted its head, eyes wide, desperate.
Granny's arms crossed again, but this time there was amusement at the corner of her mouth. She studied the creature, its ridiculous, pleading expression, then gave her judgment.
"…It looks interesting." A smirk curved her lips. "Keep it."
"Yesss!" Mother punched her fist into the air, a rare burst of girlish joy, while the bird slumped in defeat, eyes half-lidded in despair as though its life had ended right there on the courtyard stones.
Laughter rippled through those watching. Even Grandpa's stern mouth softened. I felt a smile tug at my own lips before I could stop it.
But behind the smile, in the back of my mind, images clung like thorns, the torn bodies, the spilled entrails, the cub's loneliness. No laughter could chase them away. And I knew, deep down, that the forest had not yet revealed all its secrets.
That what waited in the shadows would bring with it both boon and bane.