The Burning, Part 1

Sleep descends like a precipitation upon the sleeper. It can appear as light as a drizzle of unfocused moments where the crossing is unseen, or as elegant and methodical as dancing flakes to pull one in hypnotized. For Talia Ashton, sleep was a being of such immensity the weight would never lift, a deluge of existence to crush all thought and awareness. A continuous falling, as of snow upon snow, and but for noted events, a peaceful rest which seeks not its end.

Talia had set up her camping tent a few days before to the sounds of a sleeping forest, a restful moment in an unknown area startled by her appearance. The birds, unfamiliar with the sight, were curiously quick to approach. She sighed as she noticed the limited signs of animal foraging among the greenery. Even here in one of the most remote forests of the known world, the signs of a failing ecosystem showed her what she had expected. The natural balances of ecosystems throughout the world had begun to fall apart, slowly at first but soon at an alarming rate. She breathed deeply surrounded by the fallen leaves of deciduous trees. Her research into what kept those remaining balances alive in the living organisms of such a remote location was perhaps too late. Hopes to rejuvenate in the past were only successful until the near complete collapse of remaining remote locations. This forest, for its difficulty to reach in times of biological upheaval, remained fairly intact.

Shortly after her arrival in the forest, Talia went to a nearby stream to gather water when she noticed unusual pockets of fog gathered in pools along the leaf-strewn underbrush. It vanished with the afternoon heat and sun which cut past the canopy and illuminated the saplings and patches of grass below. The next day, she awoke to a high-toned beeping coming from her backpack with surprise and concern. Her breathing apparatus which she had relied on regularly during her months of traveling through dead zones – those void of the proper oxygen-rich atmosphere to support life – was indicating a low level of oxygen. That could not be accurate surrounded by so much foliage. How could the birds –

Then she noticed the silence all around. The few birds she had heard yesterday morning had vanished. She deftly slid on her mask and started dressing to go investigate.

The fog had rolled in heavily during the night. Cautiously, she walked through a wide path in the trees where she had seen the birds the previous morning. Massive tree roots she hadn’t noticed before made walking difficult. Something blue on the ground caught her eye. There was a bird lying motionless. Was it dead? She felt for a pulse but found none. She bagged the bird. It was not the first one she had found. If the pattern held, this area would soon be as desolate as the previous areas she had found. First, the animals vanished. Then slowly, the leaves would turn brown and the trees would become color-drained canopies grasping limply to dead leaves long after they ceased to breathe.

Then her final day in the world came. It began dark and without fanfare as she collected a few fallen birds and plant specimens, packed early, and departed for higher ground to determine her best course. In the growing silence and rapidly declining air quality, she felt an increasing sense of unease. The trees she passed were all alive and thriving. Even though she did not recognize the species, she should not be walking in a dead zone as her sensors indicated. She would need to restock her food and air supply before she left the forest completely.

Early in the afternoon Talia had found clean air around a cluster of massive trees with trunk diameters like aged redwoods, sporadic root bases, and heights immeasurable. She stopped to rest at the base of a tree with circular but smooth ridges like handholds along its bark. After checking her bearings she replenished her air supply – a painstaking process involving a hand pump to pressurize it into her canisters. She rested against the tree, then decided she preferred higher ground and climbed the trees handholds until she perched herself on a massive root and sat against the tree base. The forest was illuminated with soft light and a rich earth smell of forest shade. A breeze in the distance sounded like waves, though she couldn’t hear the stream she had been following nearby. The smooth bark underneath her suddenly seemed surprisingly malleable and soft like a mattress. Without reservations, Talia closed her eyes to enjoy a beautiful rest. The indentation she lay in grew deeper and she did not mind. Time passed but she was oblivious. The sky saw no more of her as the eons had passed and the memory of ages which succeeded her own and fallen away.

*********
A trill bird song reached her ears. Odd, but continuing this sleep under such heavy blankets was so compelling. A fluttering came to land nearby and Talia patiently bore the happenstance unbothered. Her mind crawled back into its mental bed and had only just begun to sleep when the loud banshee song began with new fervor. Her irritation began to awaken her mental awareness to question what bird that was until the thud of some strange impact brought glorious silence - and the weight of something landing on her chest made her jerk awake.

Yellow-green light blinded her. Her jerking up had been held down by numerous rotten cords, which snapped at the motion. She was in a deep oblong depression full of tree debris in a shallow sludge. Some teal and white bird the size of a pheasant was lying in her lap with a small rod sticking out of it. Talia’s brain, barely able to comprehend where it was or how it got there, decided the dead weight was the first thing on its list of problems to resolve and promptly tossed it out of the wooden basin and out of sight.

Someone exclaimed in surprise, followed quickly by another thud of weapon fire, and finally a second voice laughing. Talia carefully got onto her knees - she was completely covered in sludge – and peered out to see she was just below ground level. The world was a strange dark haze with light specks floating lazily in sunbeams, and in front of her were two queer black furry shapes in simple dark green jerkins and breeches, one hunched over the kill and the other aiming an arched bow at her.

An awkward silence ensued with the two shadows gazing at what seemed to be a muck monster, trying to weigh if it was a threat. Talia’s mind was still processing the stimuli in her new environment and distractedly looked from the bird to the creatures, then finally on the weapon. Her fight or flight response had yet to kick in, though the sludge sliding off her hair made its mind up and went splat back into the gunk.

“I think it’s a tree,” the one standing over the bird said in a cool, deep voice.

The second one kept its bow on Talia. “It is probably from this cursed grove, finally expanding to another stand.” Slightly higher voice, a younger female. Two sentient life forms! She thought she would never hear another voice again.

“You-” Talia started and raised her hands, but was cut off as a bow twanged and a sharp pain shot up her left forearm. She fell back into the muck of the tree.

“Why did you shoot it!”
“It just started talking!”
There was a quiet disagreement taking place above. The wound was hard to see with the mud mixing in, but it burned like crazy. She stifled a cry of pain in her throat.
“Are you hurt badly?” the older one called, voice getting closer. “You should get out of that root before it awakens. We won’t shoot again.”

The dark creatures fell silent. She was not sure what their warning implied, but Talia did not dally in putting her backpack and other gear on solid earth. She stood up slowly with arms raised and carefully climbed out towards the two large creatures. They were the size of bears with thick black fur but standing on their back legs, albeit with awkward grace. A black flicking of a tail caught her eye. The male’s green piercing eyes took quiet stock of her arm and the luggage, but the young archer was lost somewhere between abashed and slipping curious glances at Talia’s disheveled appearance and, when noticed, glaring in embarrassment at the ground.

Here was a natural balance, an advanced species of yet discovered creatures developing in sync with their environment! And the air had become so rich and good to breathe. The illogical realization that this forest looked darker and deeper than the one she slept in filled her with some misgivings, but time must have moved the lighting. It was possible she was having hallucinations or was dead. Pain was a great reminder that she was alive. A dark but velvet-like hand took hers gently and inspected the arm wound, inadvertently sending the reminder of life down her arm again in a jolt.

“Not a kapok. Are you a swietenia? Red sap! I’d heard of that… So you must be some kind of mukwa or kiaat, yes?” He suddenly let go of her hand and started studying some strands of her brown hair with a confused frown. Uncomfortable at being the specimen under study, she raised her hands defensively took a step back. “Can you speak?” the black-furred creature asked.

Talia just laughed and looked at the wide-eyed creature with equal amazement. Was she hallucinating? She laughed more at the prospect of some hallucinogen-induced humanoid, but sobered quickly that it could mean the injury was far worse than she imagined. Turning from the odd vision, she stepped over to her bag, unzipping a front pocket to pull out a medical kit. The second creature was already standing over it, but backed off at the sound of the zipper. Real or not, she would humor this unexpected company. So she asked, “why are you speaking in English? Who taught you?”
He laughed.

“This is the language of the trees, Ella. I assume your people should teach you these things. Why don’t you ask them?” Both the black figures were watching her clean the wound and applying an ointment.
“How fascinating!” the man said with the enthusiasm of a student of natural sciences. Talia recognized the tree species he had mentioned as he identified the leaf used in her bandage.
The archer’s curiosity won out as she grabbed the tin of ointment right out of Talia’s hand. “I have never seen a tree do that,” she said with a sniff of the scentless ointment. “What is this?”
“An antibiotic,” Talia replied while fixing the wrapping. “Trying to prevent more hallucinations from taking my stuff,” she said and grabbed the ointment back.
The young tree looked to its older companion and asked, “Why does it know so much?”
“Trees were the original teachers,” the elder one said with the stance of a lecturer. “The tree runners taught us their language as well as the gift of cooking.” The younger one snickered. There was a bashful look on the elder’s face as he added, “and not just in the pot.”

Talia, not following the conversation, frowned while looking around to find her bearings. Dark forests and rolling hills of roots were all around, each section indistinguishable from the next.
“Where is the stream that runs through here?”
“The river runs five stands from here, towards the mountain. But the Winged Fury and Scales have been in hunting packs and skirmishes all along the river, so you probably won’t make it far.”
She shook her head. None of that made sense. She had seen no signs of any larger predators and could not have wandered very far from the stream to begin with, but she was talking with a bear monster and in all unlikely scenarios should probably heed his advice.

“I have not heard of any tree-speakers except in tales from our earliest history, and I feel most guilty for Torin having shot you. It is getting late and we were just heading back for our first evening meal, but I insist you join us and the other Forest Shadows in the Kurral Forest, if that is okay with you?”
“Of course.” Her warm smile was returned with his rows of ivory teeth set against dark fur. As they set off, her companions fell into their quiet assessing of their surroundings.

As a result of her feeling of intense groggy disorientation and a neglected need of sustenance, she felt some excitement and fear as night encroached in this unfamiliar environment. “Be careful, mind you, as most in Kurral do not remember the histories of speakers and may mistake you for a meal. You were fortunate to find a lover of tree histories such as myself!” The older Forest Shadow laughed at his own remark, while Torin rolled her eyes, threw the bow over her shoulder, and started into the trees.

************* Chaaya ************
Trading in game was not a necessity, but Chaaya had always taken great pleasure in the hunt. Prey were not the most intelligent of beings though, which is why they were the prey. Forest sprinters? Terrain to slow them, traps to stop them. Same for knors and other four-legged beasts of noteworthy weight. Singers were best found in nesting grounds. Easy to track, but never high in demand. No reason to risk future trading rights with the Winged Fury. But these were no challenge. A larger opponent, a predator perhaps, would provide her the best hunting experience. Peace truces among the alpha species limited this opportunity. The dream was dying, the passion slowly waning these years. The purpose of killing was dying. Before the monotony drove her from her profession all together, she would give herself one more chance to find a worthy challenge. Perhaps among the tree-runners she would find that old knowledge once more. Their thickened minds were clouded behind those green eyes. Does anything remain there?
She hung all four of her limbs over the branch she was high upon, sky in twilight above waving through the canopy. She saw the young Torin below carefully tracing a worn path back into the village. She was followed by a loud, muddied tree-runner stumbling and barely keeping balance. Jour stepped forward to help the tree walk. Chaaya sat up at the sight of Jour. She eyed the experienced hunter lead the tree past the trading grounds and to the short falls of the water basin.

*********Talia*********
“Do tree speakers bathe?” Torin asked as Jour led them both to a break in the trees where rocky steps led down into a river pool. Several other Forest Shadow creatures were resting in the water a ways down river. Some sat on the rocky cropping of small water pools which reflected the waning amber light fading to the nightly blue. Three youngsters ran by splashing and shrieking with joy while an adult mockingly chased them. Clothing was hanging over low well-worn tree limbs and no one appeared shy about it.
Talia stood awkwardly for a moment on the lip of their private upstream pool.
“If she grows roots, pull her out before she settles.” Jour added.
While the idea of undressing in front of strange creatures in an alien world did not appeal to her, the fact that none of them were wearing much more than bone necklaces or neutral tone sashes over their black fur near the pools made it less awkward.
She slipped in as quickly as she could, leaving her dirty clothes near the edge to be washed. The water was cold but refreshing after the heat and humidity of their walk. Fortunately, Jour and Torin were the only ones watching. Talia went under, feeling the mud wash off with the current and came up refreshed. She swam towards Jour in the deeper area near the falls and brushed her hair from her face.
“Feels great,” she told him, though she felt her arm burn as water reached under the bandage. His face was skewed in an unconvinced glance so she stuck her foot out of the water.
“No roots, you were right.” He turned away in time to avoid a splash as Torin jumped in. Talia laughed and went underwater.
The moonlight broke through the top of the trees and illuminated the pool where they rested among the falls. The starlight was dazzling and the pines in the trees were making a powerful earthy perfume. Water breaking on Talia’s back relaxed and massaged her muscles from carrying her bags. She smiled and took a deep breath, exhaling in a sigh while enjoying the absurdity of life. Torin picked up her foot, again searching for roots. There was nothing there, but she gave a smirk and brushed her arm along the bottom, throwing Talia into kicking, laughing hysterics which made both girls laugh.
“So you claim you are not a tree, though I just saw you come from one.” Jour stated. “A particularly dangerous species at that, the swietenia.”
What was he talking about? Talia knew the species he mentioned, but the giant she had come out of could not have been the same species.
Jour continued, “So you are from some distant forest where others like you exist?”
“I fell asleep in a forest I was not familiar with either, but woke up here. I was exploring to learn about these new lands, specifically the state of the ecosystem balances. I have been traveling for a few months but my people will need to see what I have discovered. I didn’t imagine to find such intelligent creatures,” she saw Jour frown in puzzlement, but she continued. “I would like to rest and replenish my supplies before I return. Plus gather some more samples. Could you help me find the river path when it is time to return?”
Jour shook his head. “It sounds rather fantastic and I cannot say it all makes sense to me. Regardless, the river near where I found you comes through our village and begins in the foothills south of it, but it ends at the ocean to the north. If you need to go further, you will need to ask a traveler or speak with a tree settler about possible tributaries. However, I think your mind is broken, even if you are not a tree as you claim. I may be able to get you some work while you are here, perhaps with a traveler or tradesman, but I would not advise you to travel on your own in this state. Something will eat you.”
They started to head out of the water shaking water from their bodies and letting the rest air dry. They had to wait as Talia unpacked a second outfit from her bag – a somewhat dirty but less damp long sleeve top and hiking pants - and gathered her wet clothes.
“I would love to show you what we’ve been working on in our school regarding botany. I am sure you could lend some knowledge given your... unusual background,” Jour said. “But as to work, could you assist us with our plants? Or do you have any other skill trades?”
“I don’t have much experience with farming,” Talia said. “I don’t plan to stay too long, but of course I will repay you however I can.”
The path they took away from the river was deep in shadow with almost no moonlight filtering through. Talia stumbled several times on unseen roots and smashed her feet on a few while Torin and Jour seemed unhindered, though they slowed. The grove finally thinned out and was mingled with tall stocks of flax grasses. Many of the plants were cut and tied into standing bundles. Numerous trees were scattered over the field land. As they broached the crest of a natural rise, a path appeared before them. Lights shone ahead from a small group of houses among another tree stand.
“Besides my own interest in your personal background, I am afraid you won’t find easy business without a skill trade,” Jour spoke as if she had not said anything about leaving. “You’re a tree-runner that doesn’t farm, which means you’re fairly worthless as far as trees go. Certainly you’re not strong enough for physical labor. You can tell a good story, but if you do not eat off the ground as our tree runners do, I hope for your sake you can do more than that. Otherwise things won’t end well for you. It would be safer to keep you hidden in our house for a few days until you’re well rested and both of our curiosities are sated.”
“Okay,” Talia replied. “I am starting to feel a dangerous combination of starving and overwhelmed. Do you have anything to eat? I can fish or hunt for myself later if you show me where the game is.” The two others laughed.
“I’d like to see that!” Torin exclaimed. “What is a tree going to hunt? Whatever does not eat it first?”
“What animals are out there?” Talia asked. Torin opened her mouth to reply.
“Knollens with large tusks,…”
“It would be better if you limit your talking with strangers,” Jour advised, cutting Torin off.
“Why?”
“In our earliest history it is said that we ate talking trees to gain the ability of speech. While in my research I believe it is more likely we learned language from their instruction to a few of our representatives, there are still those who may see you as a meal instead of an individual. Many packs do not agree with our modern studies, so try not to make too big of a target to get stolen or eaten. And let me talk with my pack first.”
Beyond, Talia saw they had approached a patchwork of lights among the younger trees with the sound of a stream gently passing through. The lanterns were hanging in front of numerous double-story buildings, like double-deck huts of wood and straw. The passed in front of a trio of buildings and Talia noticed glass in the windows and amassed family of the dark-furred creatures beyond gathered at a pot suspended over a fire in the center of the one-room building. Her stomach growled at the smell of meat, vegetables, and spices as Jour opened the door.
“You two are late,” a young male Forest Shadow with gray-tipped ears called. “How did Torin do?” A woman with long lilac-patterned dress and tan gloves up to her elbows came over to Jour. She rested her forehead against his in an intimate greeting. “Overactive to fire,” Jour said with eyes still closed. “Great aim, got us a new friend.” He gestured Talia to enter the room. She kept her head down and stayed silent as he had requested, but gazed up to make eye contact briefly with the woman. She looked young and kind but slightly exhausted, and with an authority becoming of the matriarch of the home. She saw four others around the fire, including two very young ones wearing the long gloves and green and red breeches with white linen shirts. Scattered around them were spices and cooking tools.
The gray-tipped eared gentleman dipped his head slightly as if acknowledging an exchange. She would soon come to know him as Farenfil, the brother-in-law of Jour. His clothes were dark grey but with finer hemming and embroidery creating complicated patterns across it. He appeared disciplined and held a high rank in the forest guard, but with such responsibilities Talia would only see him infrequently.

“Torin lets her skills and fears overcome her ability to stand and follow orders. Tonight, I will assign her to clan seven’s training and see that amended.” She would have a full night of burying the bloody and butchered remains of past meals for the entire village, as well as the latrine waste. Torin came and sat sullenly by the fire, and a wooden bowl of a spicy soup and flat, green-speckled bread was served to her. She flicked her tail at Talia and swung her head in a circular motion, which Talia took to mean ‘come’.
“This evening I have to advise five other packs and lecture on the toxicity of plant-based medicines,” Jour said with a long sigh. “We are stretched so thin with the increasing disturbances, how are we to watch out for our own when even the growers are calling in extra hours for patrol?” The young girl in green breeches brought Jour a plate and bowl of food, which he promptly began to eat.
Torin’s stomach growled again and she looked over to see if there were any bowls left for her. Her gaze fell dejectedly when no bowls remained and it was clear no one would serve her. Suddenly an idea came to her. Talia went to her bags by the door and pulled out the dead blue bird she had found asphyxiated before her journey here. She took a wooden stick lying near the fire to use as a spit and began to pluck the feathers of the bird to prepare it for cooking.
While the three older Forest Shadows were preoccupied with their meal, the four sitting across the fire from her gawked –three in horror and one was stifling a laugh – his young male voice coughed and indicated to the one nearest the spices with a twinge of his ears. They both started laughing. Talia looked up and stared at the rude young man, then with a smile playfully flapped the bird wings at him.

They all began laughing, including Talia. “Torin,” the boy commented, “did you forget to walk your tree through the underbrush? Cause its killing the wildlife.”
“I’d serve her some food then, Varah, so the Winged Fury don’t come here on your account.”
He shrugged and grabbed one of the already used bowls, laded in the soup, and wiped his paw along the edge before setting it in front of Talia with a graceful bow. Torin tore some of her flat bread and passed it to Talia, before showing her how to use it like a spoon in the soup. At first taste it was hot and comforting with an earthy spice, the broth balanced well with root vegetables and shreds of gamey meat. A hotter spice settled a few moments later, ending with the sweet closure of a cooling mango chunk.
Talia beamed with appreciation, pointing to the food then giving the thumbs up to the others, then inhaled the bowl, trying not to ruin the moment by eating too quickly.
“What was that gesture she did with her hand?” The boy Varah asked.
“Not sure. Her bird needs some flavor though,” Maril added. “Which of these spices do you want, Ella? Let’s use some garlic and ginger, and add a little earthy cumin and salt of course.” Her quiet little sister, Orli, finished plucking its feathers, which she gathered carefully by her side, and rubbing the bird with oil and spices, then placed a small dripping pan below it. It would not provide much substance, but the children were happily about the experiment.
“Talia,” Jour called and she looked over to where the three adults were sitting. “You can talk now.”
The children looked to her with high expectations.
“She can talk?” Maril inquired?
“No way!” Varah exclaimed.
“She can, even sounds like a Forest Shadow.”
“She’s not saying anything… are you sure?” Orli asked in a near whisper. Talia gave her an innocent shrug with hands raised, a slight playful frown on her lips.
“Thanks for cleaning my bird.”
“Waah!” Varah shouted and scrambled up and they all laughed.
“Let me introduce you to my family. Myself and my daughter Torin you already know. This is my wife, Uellyn, and her brother, Farenfil. My two youngest daughters are Maril and Orli,” Orli was standing behind her sister like a barrier from Talia,” and my son’s name is Varah.”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and thank you very much for your kind hospitality.” She could think of nothing else to say and awkwardly went quiet.

The group conversations soon went back to normal with Varah describing a fight that broke out between two students over an inappropriately-named constellation during astronomy class. Talia complained the same instigator of the fight, Teriso, had expressed feelings for her, but later the same day called her friend a curdled fick (details were not offered as to why). Maril was telling Orli about a trip she and her friends took to the edge of the Kurral Forest to see the leather goods brought in from the southern plains. Very fashionable bags and durable shoes, but none of them had enough to buy or trade for the goods. The seated area opened up to include the adults in one larger group and they discussed the hot and dry weather should break soon with longed for rain; some animals damaging their basil and parsley plants; and that the wheat and flax should both be harvested, re-plowed, and replanted before the next rain. There was a festival coming up the following week which they had various roles and preparations for, including sharpening a lot of knives and practicing dancing forms with other clans.

After concluding the house meeting, everyone dispersed to get ready for the evening and head out. Farenfil left first, followed soon by Jour who had given no instruction but simply cautioned Talia to be careful and that he would return for the midnight meal. Torin was pulling on long boots over a well-covering tan outfit. She had a scowl on her face as she headed out into the night and its lingering warmth. Maril was studying a script on the floor by the fireplace now free of a cooking pot. Her quiet sister, Orli, was shelling a mountain of peas larger than herself. She did not see the younger boy, Varah, but heard he would be harvesting in the forest. It must have been the middle of the night and the whole village was awake.

Taking advantage of the quiet, Talia took account of her items were thankfully safe and dry. Within her main carrying bag, Talia found her precious herbarium, journal of notes, pruning sheers, digging knife, silica-bagged samples, and a plethora of field-pressed samples that had not been finished. She would have to ask what if anything Jour used to dry his pressings in this humid climate. Her food supply was down to meat jerky, two more asphyxiated song birds, fruit jerky, instant soup mixes, and a few granola-bars. Besides that she had basic toiletries, a small pot for soup, bowl and spoon, soap for laundry and bathing, two changes of clothes, and her breathing apparatus which could strap over her head but was small enough to hold in one hand. Her sleeping bag was in the same bag as her tent and both were in fair condition as well.

After checking in on her bags, Talia joined Maril by the fireplace to work on her journaling. While her bearings were off, she quickly reflected on all she had seen, including the differences and similarities in food and plants she had noticed thus far. Most of the plants seemed to be more tropical in their rich varieties, but about half could be drawn into similar families of the plants she had first observed in the area, especially among the harvested edibles. The others seemed to have diverged greatly from the forest she had previously traversed, which led to the obvious question of where the natural barrier lay that separated the two. How she had crossed it was also an interesting topic, but she pushed that from her mind for now.

Once she'd prepared for bed, Uellyn showed Talia to a ladder further into the house. On the second story was a quiet and dark room. When her eyes adjusted to the meager light from below, and outside, she saw cushions and bedding mats and blankets laid out. The sides of the room were made of the same wood as the rest of the house, but were woven into screens which granted privacy but let a breeze in. She heard strange bugs and crickets singing, as well as the distant talking and occasional calls of larger animals in the forest.
Although she thought adjusting to life with nocturnal creatures would be unusual and difficult with all the strange noises in the night, as soon as she laid down on a soft mat and curled under a blanket she was dreaming. At waking, she would just remember the running shapes in her dreams carrying her deeper into some inescapable slumber. Sunlight would afterwards vanquish the phantoms and she would forget the dream entirely.

****
When she was awake Talia saw Orli and Maril were sleeping and curled up to her back. Farenfil was asleep as well, but the others were absent. The sun had risen and she could smell spice-rich breakfasts and hear voices of people busy socializing outside. In the light, Talia could see mountains in the east and west, where sun laid heavily upon their treetops and bare rock face. Smoke was rising from outdoor fire pits and with the smell of food it reminded her of home. During the night the forest had cast vast shadows, but now in the morning glow she saw the houses went further into several villages. Trees and a light mist hid some, but there must be enough Forest Shadows here to fill a fair-sized human city, not that there were many of those left.

Downstairs was empty though some cold vegetable dish was resting on the countertop. The living space was all one room with a longer hall down one side leading past a private room and the back door to the outhouse. Five books rested on a shelf with a purple flower arrangement in a vase near the back door – the Lore of Herbs, History of Antiquity, Homekeeper’s Hold, Basin of Fire, and one with the simple title of Recipes. On the counter closer to the kitchen area were cooking pans, pots, cutlery, spices, oils, and a multitude of lesser known items. The walls held enough hanging knives and utensils to intimidate any would-be intruder, but were intermixed with hanging floral displays of draping pink and purple flowers Talia did not recognize. Small violent-scene tapestries hung on walls around the living space. There was no running water but a basin and several buckets were full and waiting for use near a small pile of dirty dishes. Unlit candles in holders were lined up closer to the door and below a shelf with the dishes.

The fire burned low but with hot coals in the center of the living area surrounded by a few floor cushions. She saw the ceiling above the firepit led the smoke through the second floor and up to a covered top. It let most of the smoke escape, but the campfire smell had baked into the home. Nearby was a long but low table with more cushions – enough to sit the family plus additional visitors, though no one was here now. White lilies with ferns decorated the table in short green vases.

Talia stepped out the back door and found the others sitting and smoking with some strangers in a grassy park beneath the trees. A stone-paved walkway surrounded the park and homes extended from its meandering trail. In the center of the green area were logs for sitting and a fire pit where a large boar-like creature was roasting. Jour’s front and back doors were connected to the winding trails lined with flowers and lanterns. The lanterns were now unlit as natural light from the rising sun filtered through the trees with a yellow-green shimmer.

Unnoticed by the merrymaking crowd that had begun playing some unusual bowing instrument, Talia went back into the house to get her tools. She began the morning taking plant samples from around the yard, but in a more solitary area obscured by red-flowering bushes and trees. She enjoyed the music with its melancholy swings followed by fast and energetic upswings. Birds were trying to pick up the tune with some limited success. It was a very pleasant work environment and she caught herself talking to the plants while she worked.

About an hour into her work, she felt eyes and turned to see Uellyn and Jour watching her. They did not say anything or tell her to stop, so she continued digging up a root sample. Soon after Uellyn brought her something akin to a grainy porridge with vegetables and pork. “You should stop and eat,” she said. Talia put down the samples and thanked her, then sat and started eating right there.

“Jour, I have field samples coming out of my ears. Do you have a means of drying flattened plant samples?”
“I am not sure but will look into it. You’re a social creature, aren’t you?”
“Yes, humans are fairly social creatures,” she replied.
“Why didn’t you join us by the fire then?”
“I thought I was to avoid strangers. Besides, I have been enjoying the tranquility of getting out and doing what I love.” She gestured at the garden with occasional holes, hoping none of the taken samples would be missed. They seemed to grow in an unorganized manner. “Plus I must have some more of these plants for my collection! Getting out here in the dirt and flora is so familiar. I was hoping to get restocked on my food reserves by trading and head out today. Did you happen to find a traveler or trader?”

“I asked around but they are all out harvesting, defending, or preparing for the festival,” he said with a shrug. “That plant you’re digging up is called Coriosums. It has poisonous fruit but its roots are good for treating aching joints.”
Talia quickly put down her bowl and picked up her journal to make a quick note.

“I think you should stay with us for a time. We could teach you much more about the plants than you will get from simple field samples, although we would need assistance with the workload to cover your housing and food.”
“That sounds appealing in theory, but is it safe for me to stay?”
He hesitated for a second and flicked is tail. “Nowhere is safe for you. You are the property of any Forest Shadow or other creature that finds you. Become a predator and not prey. If you can make yourself be accepted by the other clans, you should be able to find a fair amount of security. If not, you will be treated as any other tree-runner.”
“Alright, sounds like the decision is made for me. How do I get accepted?”
“Be brave but not foolish. Plants have no spine, so you cannot back down from a fight. Put your other clan members first, then other Forest Shadows, and lastly yourself. I found some possible employment with a local butcher. Acclimate yourself to blood and gore and your name will excel. Uellyn is willing to train you now with basic techniques so you can begin as soon as possible.”
Talia nodded her approval.

**************
“Lucien, what is the purpose of debating?”
“To look for truth.” The question was a simple one. His questioner walked unhurriedly in front of him but did not bother looking at him.
“What about the purpose of pain?”
“Pain is self-awareness. You feel, and sometimes it is less pleasant. The purpose is to preserve.”
“Draw three conclusions for me with this logic.”
“When truth is painful, we debate to defend self-disillusionment to preserve self on an emotional level.”
“Next?” Lucien paused to consider. That would cost him, but better than an incomplete thought.
“W-we d-debate in order to preserve ourselves and others from pain.” He stammered.
“And?” Lucien’s mind froze on him. No, he would get this! No, his brain had stopped working.
In the silence the teacher stopped and looked at him.
“You are short on truth. Would you deny this?”
“We debate to create pain because we want to preserve others?”
His master rubbed his eyes. “Shadows falling,” Lucien muttered to himself.
“Would you deny this?”
“All truth seekers are short on truth. I debate because I am ignorant.”
“Do you hope to lose all of your debates in order to gain truth?”
“If it works.”
“We will see. Take a seat, Mr. Faierlow.”

The other students sitting around did not react, but he could hear his brother, Iniko, laughing somewhere nearby. While Iniko had the quickness of mind for these exercises, he had no motivation to do so whatsoever. He scoffed the exercises openly and after some answers which made even the proctor’s feathers bristle, they had given him a pass on the class.

At seventeen Lucien did not have much time left to be accepted as an apprentice, while Iniko was two years older but with no title and no future. Iniko swindled others to meet their needs. With his innate intelligence and undeserved luck, he was fairly good at it. Most likely he had been born with Lucien’s portion of luck as well. Lucien was never lucky in life or love, but was sure if he persevered he could obtain what he sought. Instead of living as nest squatters along a once grand cliff face, he imagined the respected and stable life they would have had if their parents were alive. He found his brother’s behavior irresponsible and reprehensible. At this rate, his family name of Faierlow would end with them or, at best, fall unexpectedly onto of his brother’s numerous partners.
As class dismissed and the sun made its arc upward, the Winged Fury on this platform high in the trees began flying off in groups to their next appointments and likely to morning duties. A few of the students followed hurriedly in pursuit of the professor who was crossing one of the wooden bridges. They would be heading to the courts or the town square, if not to more private quarters for more professional consultations.

Lucien lingered until his brother glided over from behind the lichen-covered water closet.
“I came to see how you fly,” Iniko said. Iniko hardly appeared an innocent passerby. With his grey-on-blue clothing cut perfectly to drape down his wings, and with silk bands along the edges and down along his back tail feathers, he could have stepped out of a princely rendition of the play “Seeds Among the Commoners”.
“You came to see Seiha,“ Lucien interjected.
“No, I came to neck her. Just to greet, mind you. Can’t show a girl too much interest.”
Lucien saw Seiha fly off to a nearby branch with her friends, preening and straightening out her yellow bodice. The short ribbons and bodice faded pale. Did she dye her feathers to get them so white? Delicate grey tones hardly streaked them. They looked back at the brothers before singing and flying in spirals down to a little sweets and bakery establishment with a carved sign hanging outside reading “Sun Beams”.
“Lucien, let me find you a girl to plume.”
He felt heat come to his face. Although his down feathers helped mask this change, Lucien gave the bothersome trill of discomfort deep in his throat.
“Why would I bother doing that for someone else?”
“Oh, there’s many reasons,” Iniko began.
“Please stop there. I would love to find someone of an equal intellect and drive, but right now I need to be focusing on my future.”
“I think that is your problem,” Iniko remarked and began balancing on a rope handrail of the bridge as they crossed.
“I could never feel comfortable in the confined spaces of the salt mines,” Lucien began. “Fruit harvesters spend most of their time tending the plants, which doesn’t pay well, and my hands spread death to the plants.” He held them up to stare at. “I do not have a good streak with debating or fighting. My voice is not beautiful, my flight is not graceful. My fingers not nimble for tailoring or crafting. I will probably end up goat herding in the highlands.”
“I know some Forest Shadows that would trade very favorably for some rare herbs and spices.”
“And jeopardize my chance at a real career?”
“I’m only offering it as a backup plan. You could lend yourself out as a traveling cook and use the spices in the food.” He put his hands and wings up with an air of disinterest. “Just thought to suggest it.”
Lucien wished Iniko was only suggesting. There was something to his words that seemed by prior experience.

******
With cider and mead spilling off the swaying bodies around her, Chaaya had a hard time focusing on the glass on her own head.
“Bring us another!”
“Sit, you’re out!”
The musicians were singing and stomping in the corner while the bottle dancers began their slow spinning steps. Hands up to the others, they continued through the movements.
“Your voice is the wind and the boats smash to the cliffs,” Someone shouted more than sang.
A stumbling dancer fell towards her and grabbed her arm, knocking the glass off her head and spilling it onto his own.
“Chaaya, out!”
She walked to the bar and paid her tab, then walked out into the late morning light.

The crowds had begun thinning out as it started warming up, but this city never fully slept. Some would sleep until late afternoon if they were lucky, or work through the day as many were prone to do. Unfortunately, she had guard duty further in which meant pointless pacing along the borders with the farms and forests.

As she started towards the nearest guard house to report for duty, she saw Jour walk by followed again by the clumsy tree-runner. Oddly enough, the tree was shimmying to the beat of the music from inside the nearby café, skedaddling back and forth as she skipped to the beat. The tree’s energy was contagious, and behind her a few other Forest Shadows had joined in. Chaaya herself picked up the beat and walked beside the tree, exchanging a friendly smile.
“Hello!”
Chaaya didn’t lose the beat and greeted her back. “Good morning, ella.”
“What is ella?”
“It is you.”
“Good to know. I heard it a few times.” The tree acted intelligent, but that was not very encouraging. Jour looked back and locked eyes with Chaaya. He seemed to be assessing, but quickly welcomed her with a smile and they passed palms quickly. “May your claws stay sharp, Chaaya Tour.”
“And yours, Jour Fen.”
“I see you have met Talia Ashton.”
“Ashton? You have a clan?”
“It is my family’s name. You can call me Talia.”
“Are you here to trade?” Her eyes turned to Jour. “I may be interested.”
“She’s looking for work with the butcher.”
Chaaya choked back a laugh. “Well, if that is what you want. I could put her to better use than that.”
“I will let you know if circumstances change.”
Jour turned to her a rather cold shoulder and started walking away. Talia eyed her cautiously and quickly followed him.

******
“She seemed a little odd. Do you know her well?” Talia looked over at Jour as they continued down a hill on the cobblestone road. Trees gave some shaded cover, but she could feel the day was going to be hot and humid once the sun rose higher.

“Chaaya is a professional hunter and high-ranked border guard. She was a trainee under me when I was leading group 4 on hunting and gathering missions.” He grew silent for a moment. “She is the sole heir of the Tour clan. It happened shortly after her promotion to lead their missions, and I think she blames herself for the loss. As far as I know has no interest joining other clans. Chaaya is also good at what she does though she takes reckless risks. Be especially wary around her.”

Jour had brought her to the food market. The walkway passed under a series of arches where interlacing wisteria vines draped their purple flowers down. All along the path were double and triple-storied store fronts and stalls opened up to the walk. The customers were smelling fruits and bartering with the vendors while filling bags with unusual fruits, vegetables, and grains. More than one store seemed devoted to teas and spices. The people passed gold and silver-minted coins which seemed to contain small round shells, and occasionally would trade with simple shells.

A young woman off to the side was laughing at something her gentleman had said, and probably the last of the waking children ran past in a pack of three with the two in front holding a chain of sausage in their hands. They came from a side street up ahead that dropped down lower and towards a stone-walled avenue beneath the shade of trees on higher ground. Talia immediately noticed the temperature drop as bridges above provided a cave-like avenue with a breeze passing through. And there were the signs hanging alongside the tied up carcasses of giant four-legged creatures, bird-like creatures with two long legs, and the oddest assortment of meats that she could not picture as creatures without their skin. It was as if the owner of a menagerie had sold out to a butcher and strung up the corpses for show.

“We have always liked Peireen Cutters,” Jour said as he eyed one of the store fronts, the buildings now built into the sides of the hills around them. “Not sure if they need any more help, they have ten workers since their two clans combined.” Larger creatures were hanging from second stories or from wooden posts fixed into the small grass yards. After passing several shops, Talia noticed something disturbing.
“Are those tree-runners?” She stopped in front of a blue shop to their left where human-like corpses with elongated torsos, necks, and limbs hung from their feet. Their skin was still on, a grey to dark tanned color and dried like jerky. Some were tall enough to be 10 feet, but some were shorter and closer to 5 feet or so. With great relief she saw their similarities to humans were fewer than she had previously thought.

One of the shop workers in a light blue two-piece outfit and white apron came out behind a customer who was carrying two ham legs. He stopped when he saw her and Jour.
“They are very fresh, just caught this evening. Care for a sample?”
“Is it cooked? Talia replied.
“No,” the shop attendant replied slowly. “No, our samples are raw.” The attendant looked to Jour as if he were the one who had asked.
“I would be curious to know what it tastes like,” Talia said and Jour smirked.
“Could we get two cooked samples?” Jour asked politely.
As the attendant hurried inside to fill the special request, Jour smiled at Talia and gestured into the shop.

The floor boards echoed slightly at their steps and interrupted the hurried conversation between the attendant and two other store employees. One was a larger woman with a look none too pleased and fur wiry and stiff like used bristles. “Why should I bother with that? I do orders, not favors.” She smacked a roll of meat onto a board and walked off with scrap pieces in the other long-gloved hand.
The other employee was the tallest Forest Shadow she had ever seen. He must have been near eight feet tall! Despite the wider berth of the woman, who was slightly taller than Talia at around 6 feet, this man was nothing but muscles. He looked over as the two of them entered.
“Fine morning it is. What can I do for you?”
‘How do these creatures avoid getting black fur into everything,’ Talia thought to herself.
“I would like a job,” is what she said.
The man stared at her with mouth hanging open, then burst into laughter.
“What is wrong with you?” His wife asked as she came back into the room. She took one look at Talia and scowled.
“She said she wants a job!” He spat out like a punch line.
“No,” the woman said flatly. An elderly couple came through the door and the tall man saw to them.
“I think you could use the assistance. You could also pay me less than your other employees to start which would be better for you financially.”
“You will scare away my customers,” she replied and started tressing her meat behind the counter with a long string.
“I have some experience.”

The woman looked up as three more customers came through the door. As she worked to answer one customer’s question about a specific cut they needed, the first attendant who was still young and of a quick if not insecure step returned with a tray of samples for the visitors. Talia and Jour took their bite-size pieces using small wooden picks. Although initially concerned of what the cooked meat would taste like, she found it compared to an imitation of meat with a smoky wood flavor and a mild bitter touch as if spinach had been blended in. Jour asked her opinion with a concerned expression and she told him as much.
“It’s tender like a medium-rare steak,” she said with an approving nod. One of the male customers chuckled but looked uncomfortable.
“Did you just eat tree-runner?” the strange male customer asked her.
“Yes, but he and I were on bad terms. It was bound to end this way.”
He looked at her dumbfounded and, more amazingly, appeared to believe her. A few of the other customers were listening in equally struck.
“They were on bad terms, she bound him up, and then ate the other tree-runner,” a pregnant woman whispered to the older couple.
“It was a just a joke,” she said. No one laughed. Apparently trees eating trees disturbed them, as did trees with a sense of humor.

“Tree-runner, stop pestering my customers,” the wiry woman called again.
“Give me a trial run,” Talia responded. “Let me work here a week, and if it doesn’t work out I will leave you alone.” The crowd of interested onlookers silently watched the exchange. The woman stared Talia down.
“Fine, whatever. Just don’t touch my knives.” Sounds of amazement rose up in the group as Talia hurried around the counter to join the woman.
“Take care, Talia. I will be back this evening to pick you up,” Jour said. “Mar,” he addressed the wiry butcher woman. “I expect to find her in one piece when I return.” The woman grunted.
“May your claws stay sharp, Jour Fen.” Talia said and passed palms with him over the counter. He smirked.
“And yours too, Talia Ashton.” With that he left, and she settled behind the counter with the young man rushing to find an apron for her.

After an on-the-job training on the types of meats on display and those available for customizing, Talia struggled to learn how to manage the money box for an unfamiliar currency. Mar would not let her touch the knives, but Talia adapted quickly to packaging and gathering requested items (albeit more slowly and with more finger pointing), and cleaning up. When things quieted down closer to noon, Mar, her husband Renghe, and the younger Porir, retired upstairs for the day.

The lone day crew, a quiet man named Laour, had worked with Talia to move the remaining meats into the basement for cooling. Cicadas were calling in the humid warmth of the day. While customers were scare, they went into a storage room underground and worked on salting the meats that were curing. Additionally, she helped with some pickling in ceramic pots which were topped off with lard. After lunch which was predominantly a high-quality prosciutto made in shop with cheese and steamed asparagus which Laour had brought from home, they went out to find a salt vendor shop a ways off in the market place. Hauling buckets of salt in early afternoon, Talia was sweating more profusely from the hotter climate than from the workout. Laour seemed less phased but they both returned to the cooler basement for further salting.

Around late afternoon they were back at the store front. Laour showed her where the main cuts were for the several different meats, and Talia spent much time studying the charts on the wall and attempting to replicate. What Mar didn’t know would not hurt her, and Talia was full of enthusiasm and concentration for the task at hand. She felt her work inadequate, but Laour simply showed her and let her practice with only occasional wordless correction.

It seemed so out of place to feel comfortable in this completely alien society. Differences seemed mostly superficial and the coincidences more numerous than she’d expected. Her earlier excitement and adrenaline left her so exhausted she was ready to drop when Jour finally returned in the late afternoon. Her first day had felt overwhelming with what she had to study and learn, but along with the few coins she received Talia felt she had made herself a acceptable position in this other society.
“I think I found a way to dry your plant samples,” Jour told her on the way home. They were walking in the shade of old trees which lined the dirt path. “If you have the energy then maybe after a bath and dinner you could come with me to try it?”
She nodded with a tired smile. “Let’s see what you found.”


For two weeks Talia’s life continued in much the same manner. In the morning, she would catch up with the family briefly over breakfast and head out to gathering and preserving samples. Every day she would take a notebook to the butcher shop and take sketches and the notes for future reference. Jour was more often than not too busy in the morning to accompany her for lessons, but after work they would have an opportunity around sunset to learn about the toxic plants, edible plants, and medicinal plants around the area. Many were similar to ones she knew and he took great care to help her identify the others properly.

Some mornings she was able to join Torin and Varah training on some fighting poses led by Farenfil. Orli and Maril worked on their writing at this time or met with the other younger children to play something similar to tag and other imaginative games. Talia would draw pictures of the children playing and found their stories greatly entertaining. She loved going on grocery shopping trips with Uellyn twice a week. Soon it was obvious the Fen family was financially tight despite Farenfil’s high position in the guard. Feeding and clothing came mostly through Uellyn’s efforts. Through experience she could find the best materials, but her personal knowledge of the vendors allowed her a more favorable trades with side favors that suited the merchants. Occasionally, Uellyn would lend her children’s assistance with the deal.

Talia had given her meager income to the Fen household for food and lodgings, and with the money saved after a week Uellyn took her to the tailor across the river from Merton Village in Willowcrest. That village was known for its florists and tailors and was situated between a cliff with willows along the top and the river. The custom sizing for Talia cost extra, but she was able to order some new clothing in blue-dyed linen of a weaker strength which breathed better in the heat and could be worn to work. Once she brought in more money, she hoped to order a dark cloak to make her presence less obvious.

Varah quickly grew tired of harassing her hairless arms and the overcompensation on the top of her head. Instead, he adopted a studious approach to learning the unusual expressions of frustration when she messed up. It didn’t bother her as he was only a child and not her own at the least, so she made sure he learned to say them properly. She also taught him how to make loud noises with a blade of grass pressed between his thumbs and she could hear him and the other boys making the noises back and forth when she awoke one morning.

Besides Forest Shadows, some other unusual creatures occasionally frequented the store. One creature called a Scant resembled a four-foot badger. It could not speak and had no money, but would bring a small item of interest like unusual roots or dead rodents. Despite the lack of usefulness of the item, her store would always supply some simple meats for trade. Even Mar in all her callousness would not refuse to trade them.

The most amazing customers Talia had seen were the Winged Fury. During her first week at the store, she had heard a great fluttering and saw shadows descending outside the store. Mar ordered her to go clean some containers in the back room and stay quiet. From there she heard the heavy steps of talons on the wooden floor. Their voices sounded rhythmic and flowed like music, but they apparently left without ordering anything. The next time they visited was in the afternoon the following day, and Laour had also ordered her to go to the back. However, her curiosity was too great and she snuck up some stairs in the house with windows facing the street. She had to wait a long time but eventually saw the back of them walking down the street away from her. There were three massive birds with white-grey feathers and brightly colored clothes strolling down the path, deep in conversation with arms waving expressively. They looked vaguely like angels, but with a heavier dose of bird.

As the week of the festival began, work became very busy and Talia was called in to the shop daily for half day and full night shifts. She would go to sleep early in the morning with the rest of the Fen household and wake up around noon to begin again. Without an alarm she would awake by her mental clock, but as 5-hour rests began wearing her down, she began sleeping in and arriving late to the store to the begrudge of Porir who would be filling in during her absence.
Torin often accompanied her to work these days as Jour was caught in increased security patrols. There was an influx of new visitors from distant Forest Shadow villages coming into town. The inns, homes, and streets were slowly filling in with interesting new people and different accents. Although the neighborhood had become more familiar with her presence, the new visitors made Talia’s walking alone to work strongly discouraged.

“How many Forest Shadow villages are there?” Talia asked her behind a yawn one day around noon.
“We are the Kurral Forest Tribe. Two days walk north of us is the Beiro Valley Tribe. They live like Winged Fury in the forested cliffs above the ocean. Very strange, I’m not sure why they have Valley in their name, but they have stone homes from what I hear. You’ll see they wear the most beautiful coral jewelry!” She pointed toward a distant mountain chain. “East of the Folded Mountains and nearly a week’s walk away are the Surei Forest Shadows. I don’t know much about them except they’ve been fighting with the Scales for the longest time. The occasionally hunt in the desert from what I heard, but those may have been only rumors. Father also said we have cousins living southeast of us who are coming to visit. They are the Paniri Tribe. Their forest borders a great plain and they specialize in leather and lots of grains. Apparently they use tame knollens – remember those tusk animals? – to carry their produce and farm the land.”
“I never saw the knollen, but you told me I could meet one in the forest,” Talia replied. Torin laughed.
“Hope that you don’t. Wild knollen are very aggressive and are a challenge even for several Forest Shadows to take down.”
The sky was beginning to cloud over and rain could be seen falling in the distance.
“Torin, why haven’t I seen any other Tree Runners around?” She looked surprised.
“They’re off growing plants for the forest. You are supposed to be caretakers for the land, healing diseases and the like.”
“But don’t the Forest Shadows own them?”
“No one owns them, but they don’t run away. Once we bring them in, they roam the area with just the same indifference as if they were in the wild.”
“So what keeps them here?”
Torin shrugged. “Protection I guess? Nowhere is safe for them, but we feed them and they seem content to help us. But now that you mention it, I haven’t seen that many recently.”


That evening she was harassed by four different customers checking her for a price. As Mar still wouldn’t let her use the knives, Talia spent her time wrapping, helping bring in the animals into the back storage, and salting a lot of meat. More and more she disliked handling the meat on display or walking around the customers to ask if there was anything they needed. Many strangers eyed her in an unsettling way. Salting days underground her great escape.
“Talia, I need a delivery picked up.” Mar called above the crowd while waving a cleaver about like a baton. “Take Porir with you to the salt exchange. We’ll trade 5 sheens for two bags, don’t offer them any more than that or I’ll skin you myself. If you get a better deal, I’ll throw in some stew meat with your pay.”
“Okay,” she said and checked that her small pouch of coins was hidden and carried enough. Mar had realized early on Talia’s ability to win favor from the other vendors as well as dependability with money proved an asset towards their store income.
Outside the shop she could recognize the different groups now. Four girls and a guy with pink coral necklaces were laughing and stumbling over their words. “Oh it’s not so-!” “What a conceited fellow!” “Wait, come now,” the man laughed with palms uplifted. “It was not that way at all.” He tipped his head in a bobbing motion Talia hadn’t seen before. “Do you think I am so showy?”
Talia turned back to Porir who, from his higher vantage, was finding the nearest part in the crowd. He grabbed her hand and lead her into the crowd. The Forest Shadows were dwarfing her 5’8” height and in the crowd she could only see the backs and dark fur all around her. The Festival was starting tonight and this thick crowd was heading towards a natural amphitheatre in the river bend. The occasional shopper would notice and stare down at her in surprise, but most were distractedly looking ahead or at the shops to grab a quick bite on the way.

The streets were too loud to ask Porir what tonight’s events were, but she could hear distant drums and assumed it was the displaying of dances. Tonight professional representatives from each of the tribes would display their fighting forms with musical accompaniment and one elder would weave the tale of their histories. The storytellers were an important part of the five-day festival and every day would advance the ages told of. Each tribe would be sure to have several storytellers and acolytes. Within the tribes they kept their histories spoken and the youngest like Orli and Maril would share their handwritten versions at the gatherings in hopes the alcolytes or storytellers would adopt or incorporate them into future tales. Torin and Varah would display their dances in hopes to win honor and positions within the ranks of protectors and hunters. They were nearing adulthood and if their display was accepted they could soon become apprentices.
Black fur painted white bumped into her face and she noticed the crowd had stopped.
“What’s going on?” One of the girls in the pink coral necklace asked.
“Scales have entered the forest!” Someone called from a distance.
“Really? They’re coming here too?” The man in front of her said dejectedly.
“Talia.” Porir’s grip tightened on her hand. “We should head back to the store.”
“The shop is right here,” she waved a short distance ahead. “Let’s get what we came for first.” As the people started moving again around the lingering crowds Talia and Porir made it into the quaint wooden shop with its white banners waving lightly in the evening breeze.
“Welcome back, Ella,” a man with a heavy accent from behind a stack of boxes he was moving. “We certainly are glad to see you weren’t picked off by one of our new traveling friends.”
“So you heard about the Scales in the forest?” Talia asked. The salt vendor’s eyebrows were larger than most and almost came off his face in surprise. “They’re here? Why in blazes would they visit us now? They are dead fools to have tried anyway,” he shook his head.
Porir and Talia held one bag of salt each, which only cost her three sheens. The Forest Shadow traffic was moving more smoothly but an odd anxiety could be seen in some of their faces.
“Why would the Scales come here?” Talia asked Porir.
“They want to trade with the Forest Shadows,” He replied.
“Is that bad? Don’t you trade with Winged Fury?”
His ears went down in disapproval. “We have a pact with the Winged Fury, but since the Scales arrived some years ago they have been using more resources than we can supply. They eat more than the land can replenish and also destroy our homes while they spread. Many tree settlers have been taken from us as well. It is better to stay away from them.”

***************
Chaaya stared across the grassy swath between the Scales on their riding mounts and the border guards. Their auxiliary guards had joined them ready for battle, but the Scales only sat there apparently waiting for orders on their end. While it seemed of little value to approach the village from this side, she noticed figures draped over the necks of their oversize riding mounts. They came all this way for tree-runners?
‘We would not trade them so they now take them by force,’ she thought.
She was not part of the guard and had merely happened to see them in passing on her way into town to sell her kills.
The Scales did not bother talking to the armed Forest Shadows now approaching them and made off into the forest again.

***************
Porir spoke with Renghe in hushed voices about the Scales appearance said as soon as they arrived back in the shop. The number of guests had decreased greatly, perhaps as the midnight meals were coming to an end and people were heading to the festival.
Talia walked over to Mar and whispered, “three sheens,” to which the woman replied, “As expected! You’ll get the finest stew scraps we can muster. But given the slowdown until sunrise, we have decided to close the shop until then.”
“Close the shop?” Talia asked in amazement. “Because of the Scales?”
“Oh no! I don’t care about that. I would gladly stay and fight if I knew they were coming. We just wanted to see the festival.”
Porir offered to escort her home, but Varah poked his head in the door.
“For Pete’s sake, Ella, let’s get going! Crap, we’re gonna be frickin late!–“
“Great timing, Varah!” Talia said. He was around the same height as her, which made it easy to put her arm on his shoulder and lead him out of the shop.
“I should be back at sunrise then?”
“You can take off until two tomorrow,” Mar replied.
“Thank you!” Talia had worked every day since getting the job and the sudden time off excited her. She grabbed her package of stew meats and headed out with Varah.

Instead of going to the festival directly, Varah took her back home so they could meet with the rest of the available family members before going. He had not heard of the Scales visit to the border of the Kurral Forest, but his eyes lit up in something between fear and excitement. He wanted to see if he could fight them, to try out the forms he had been learning.
“You sure you can handle them on your own?” She asked.
“If not, I’ll have you as my backup,” he said while slicing the air with a fighting stance. That sounded better than as his diversion, which would be more likely. All the same they both looked around apprehensively as the cobble street here seemed unusually empty. Besides what was illuminated by the torch light along the path and faint moonlight filtered down on the curving trail uphill.
“What is that?” Varah saw them first. Three large figures were speeding across the open ground. One of them veered onto a trajectory toward their neighborhood. Another turned and was heading in their direction. Talia had a deeply unsettled feeling and pulled Varah into a run toward their house. The things were far enough off that Talia hoped they could reach the house before the mysterious figure did.

Varah was faster than her and his running up the cobblestone street attracted the attention of an older couple who were still out. How could she compete when he got on all fours and ran like a beast? The older couple who saw Varah looked down the trail Talia was running along and seemed to gather a fight was coming, but instead of preparing to fight they only backed up closer to their front doors and continued standing there transfixed.
“Varah!” Talia yelled. He hadn’t noticed she had fallen behind. She could hear something behind her heavy, with multiple footfalls and the sound of metal against something hard. The front door was open with Uellyn and Varah standing there. They both were armed with staffs that had blades on the tips, but Varah looked wide-eyed like a doe.
By instinct she stepped sideways and turned around fast enough to dodge a club being swung at where she had been. She moved quickly out of the way as a massive creature driven on by inertia circled in front of her. The four-legged animal slowed to a canter and paced around her. The mount looked like a large tan sloth with a saddle on its back. The creature in the saddle was fully clothed in a dark grey tunic over white long sleeves and a dark green material hid its legs from view. Its exposed face and hands were green beneath gauntlets and a helmet. He was carrying a fully functional club and curved sword.
The odd creature met her gaze. His expression betrayed little emotion or surprise when Varah the brave came up from behind and took a swing at his mount. The giant sloth released a deep roar and turned to bite at Varah, shaking the Scale rider in his saddle. Uellyn joined in by stabbing straight into the backside of the sloth, removing her blade with a dark blood dripping down its back.
“She is mine,” the creature said in a cold, articulate voice stressing each word. “By your own law, she is mine!” The sound was so familiar for some reason that it made her shudder.
“No, she is one of us now,” Uellyn said and the pathetic mount bleeding from multiple wounds began to retreat. The rider threw his rope so quickly that he caught Talia’s right arm and neck and pulled her to the ground. She instinctively grabbed the knife she had hidden under her clothing and cut the line. The Scale, perhaps not seeing that she had escaped, rode off on his galloping sloth, leaving speckles of blood in its wake.

Talia suddenly felt a delayed moment of panic as if she needed to run. The Scales had the most humanistic manners and appearance, but in those dark eyes was no heart to be found. It was a living monster. She realized the feeling was fear. Many of the neighbors had come outside and were staring. Talia couldn’t speak or react so Uellyn gripped her shirt at the scruff and quickly pushed her into the house.
“You are making things difficult,” Uellyn said angrily but unsettled. She let go of Talia who quickly backed a safe distance away. “You have done a poor job blending in discreetly.” Her face was sorrowful. “My husband would not want to see you hurt, he is probably thrilled at the prospects of what could learn. But what can we do for you now? Sun scorned! I broke the law for you! Disgracing ourselves, harboring you in our home, and soon the rumors will spread. We won’t be able to keep you here, they’re going to take you.”
There was a creak of wood as one of the younger two girls came down the stairs from the second story. Suddenly, there was a knocking on the door.

“Talia, sit over there and don’t say a word unless I say to. Maril, please go back upstairs. Varah, go get your father and bring him back quickly.”
The door opened, and a strong, imposing Forest Shadow walked in with a white sash around his waist and a gray and red band on his upper arms. A bald patch ran down his left shoulder supposedly concealing a scar.
“Uellyn, you know why I’m here.” His voice was deep. He looked around the room and found Talia watching him intently. “Hello, Ella.” his voice was not unfriendly, but she doubted his intent. This man was not familiar to her so she decided to play ignorant. She said nothing but neither did she look away.
“Horun,” Uellyn said and the man looked back to her, “no one should feel compelled to consent to the Scales demands. However, my husband as well as the other researchers are making great progress in forming technologies against them.”
“Our village numbers are low, our people cannot be spared, and you are harboring a personal Tree-Runner when their numbers have never been lower? Do you realize in the past month that in every raid we lost lives in, the Scales have been targeting our Tree-Runner supply in addition to our regular food reserves? You are endangering the lives of our entire village! What if they begin raiding all our homes in order to find hidden Tree-Runners like this?” He waved his hand at Talia.
“Let us wait for my husband to return.” Uellyn then fell quiet and did not respond to his tirade. Instead she sat at a floor mat and began working at cleaning an impressive basket of tan legumes. Horun paced quietly, ears twitching and looking up at Talia who was watching him intently. His eyes were hazel, but his left was more amber than green. Talia stifled a yawn from where she sat on the ground, arms crossed over her knees.
“I am amazed your tree is still awake,” Horun remarked. His straight-edged life must have excluded all hints of rumors, which amazed her. How could he be ignorant of a talking tree working at the butcher shop for two weeks now? Uellyn glanced up before returning to her work, but her tail twitched nervously. Horun had begun approaching Talia when Jour burst through the door panting followed seconds later by a panting Varah.

“Is everyone alright?” He looked at his wife before noticing Horun and Talia in the room.
“What happened?”
Horun rubbed his face and sighed deeply. “It was a raid. They took all of our tree-runners in the western glen. They are also asking for 15 trades a week.”
“They just took that from us! Besides, our clans would never agree to it!”
“I know that, but you are hiding merchandise in your own home! Your tree was starting a fight with them! And Uellyn denied them the right of free capture!”
Jour’s gaze shifted to Talia without emotion but she sensed his disapproval.
“Clearly there is something wrong with her. I recently found her and would not feel comfortable risking exposure to the others yet. How long before the Scales return?”
“We have until after the games.”
“Our fighters will best them in this terrain, and we have additional fighters from the other villages right now. Why would they even risk fighting this far into the Kurral Forest?”
“I don’t know, Jour, but I think we had better prepare. It may have been show, but those riders were out in the night and as lively as if the sun were out.”

Horun began walking past Jour toward the door but paused to grab his shoulder firmly.

“This is no time to risk our lives for your fascination with plants. If our packs lose more family before the full moon is out it is on you and I will take my price. If she is not in the games, I will take her myself before the Scales do.” Horun pushed Jour away and slammed the door behind him.

Jour’s deep throated growl made Talia’s hair rise.

Talia wanted to ask if she would be staying or leaving but shame stopped her voice.

Without speaking, Uellyn walked up to Jour and touched his forehead with her own. He whispered something to her Talia didn’t catch, and she replied, “My eyes saw you try.”

“Talia.” She stood up as he approached. “I cannot get you out of here without endangering my family. I told you that you could rest here and return… I am sorry.” He loosely held her arms out in his hands and bowed his head.

“What are they going to do to me in the games?”
“The games are part of the daily events of this Second Season Harvest. Each midnight there is a cooking competition. On the final night they will use Tree-Runners as bait for a hunt, and if you survive, they will eat you.”

Her brain, over stimulated with the last few hours, was slow to react to impending death by mythical monsters. “Oh,” she said. Finally, envisioning running in the dark pursued by the four competitive villages of Forest Shadows and being torn apart while still alive, she started breathing quicker. She pictured her corpse brought to Mar’s shop to be chopped up and served to the customers in samples by Porir. Jour held her up. “Come now, be brave. That’s it.”
“I’m going to beat the crap out of them,” she said between gasps.
“Of course you are.”
“Going to blow them up.” He nodded without understanding.

Through gritted teeth she began weeping which startled him greatly. It was the first time since her arrival she’d lost her composure. She had tried so hard, things were going to work out for once, and now even this temporary peace was ruined. Confusion and exhaustion was complete. The sense of losing everything was so strong, she felt she lost her human family all over again. The tears wouldn’t stop. She would truly die alone here in this other world.

************* Chaaya ************
Laying out four dead forest sprinters about the size of small children and a rare horned maelis that wandered from the mountains on the table before the butcher, Chaaya took the smooth pink shells rimmed in gold that counted as her day’s wages and headed up the stone stairs lined in newer gas lanterns to leave the shop, avoiding the blood streaks over the stone floors.

Other hunters would still be harvesting in the fields or preparing their outdoor oven for slow roasting if they hadn’t taken time off for the celebration. She crossed the river into Time Central’s upscale shopping, the crowded center of the Hour Tree, and into the Merchant District. On this street, numerous shops lined the road, intermingled with outhouses and double- or triple- tiered homes for the wealthier merchants to live above their shops. Glass makers, ropes and hunting materials, tools, clothing shops, and food stalls lined the crowded street. Streets were packed with cooks and visiting festivity goers, heading to their next event or preparing for the final meal of the day which would be a few hours away at dawn.

A Forest Shadow hidden in a burgundy hood walked by carrying spices and Chaaya faintly detected the smell of an illicit spice. Although it was forbidden to trade with Scales merchants, enough travelers passed through that cook enthusiasts did not need to lift their noses high to find some. The Restaurant District she had come from was for the wealthier clans and paid a higher price for her fresh maelis than the meat markets in this area would.

She walked along the dark stream and grasses. Most food markets lined the river to keep the food reserves from spoiling, but here the well-to-do merchants were fortunate to have cold caverns and some underwater springs like those the meat merchant used. Because of this, her view was unobstructed when she saw across the river the image again of Jour heading towards the Tree Settler Grove with that strange tree runner still tagging beside. His love of botany and teaching so many classes had made him grow soft, but she still saw the hunter within him.

Looking around to see if anyone was watching, she headed for a graying figure sitting near the front steps of a roofed structure. It was an open-air drinking establishment, hardly of high repute except compared to stands of lower repute. In all of her recent outings she had never patronized the place, and she was no stranger to the scene. The figure was very aged and nearly blind but looked up at Chaaya’s approach and laughed.

“Oh, the high and mighty come for a story? We don’t need your kind around here.” Despite her frail appearance and pacifist nature, the old woman’s voice was bitter and direct. She wore an aged green dress of varying tones which flowed long over her still noble posture. The old woman had done well in the past and probably had a higher upbringing than her current position.
“I’m interested in becoming a traveler,” Chaaya said.
“Oh, are you now! A bonafide hunter wants to give up her career for a job with the lowly commoners making beans in comparison?”
“I’m considering it.”
“For what reason? Are you too battle-worn or just trying to avoid a lover?” Normally Chaaya would snap at such a disrespectful reply, but she held her tongue.
“Bored I guess,” she flicked her head and tail nonchalantly, but a more honest statement had never passed her lips. She would hand over honor for practically nothing, but over the last few weeks the hollowness of her role had become unbearable. Her last hope for a challenge and turned into a joke, a mythical creature of ancient wisdom was nothing but a hapless fluke, and suddenly the drive of her life for the last several years seemed pointless.
“Sorry to hear that.”
“What trade roots are available right now?”
“Domestic. You’d be a messenger in town until more requests come in and you’ve built some rapport.”

Chaaya pulled out a small half-circle sword in scabbard she had worn since her first solo hunt and handed it to the old figure. She also removed the black and white sash around her waist and with it gave up her clan. She would be nameless until another clan adopted her, most likely this woman or another of the former travelers. The Tour clan was no more. Her parents’ name would die this night.

The action gave the old woman pause before accepting the sword. “You are serious then? You may end up regretting this, but your help is most welcome in our circle.”

In exchange, she received two fan-patterned leather bracelets with red bands woven into them and a matching, well-worn book closed with a long strap.

*********Talia*********

Talia had not spoken much since her and Jour set out in haste from the house for a place called the Tree Settler Grove. He said he would try to keep her with him as much as possible until they finally came for her. The fading stars and lightening sky told her she did not have much longer to go before morning. When they crossed a bridge over the quiet river, off to her right she saw a dazzling city alive with activity and unfamiliar music. Why had she never been there? It dwarfed the Old Town area where she worked. The city gave off such an exhausting energy while she felt like her body was weighted. Below she noticed the unusually dry riverbed where a much larger torrent had flown only the week before.

The path to the grove was easier and better lit with torches. The brightening sky of approaching dawn lifted her spirits. Evening would soon come to an end and the real rest afterward appealed greatly to Talia. Would she still be expected to go to work with a death sentence over her head?

Jour stopped them both at the edge of cliff before the land dropped away. Already she could see massively tall trees dominating the view, but their vastness could not be grasped until she looked down into the valley. The trees were as large as the one she had been found in that morning, but their colors fainted towards purple and red and their otherworldly colors were complimented by their astounding height.

As they slowly made their way down into the valley, they were surrounded by low rolling hills and endless stands of massive trees all around. Talia felt she was in a cathedral with high arched ceiling and with stained glass windows of glowing leaves. Dawn’s light had already begun to glow like fire in the treetops. Which of the two worlds was the dream? Faced with the beauty around her, she felt that other dying world could only have been a mirage or a nightmare. Perhaps this is where she was from, as everyone told her.

“This is the Tree Settler Grove of Hayavan Valley,” Jour said in a hushed voice which brought her eyes back down to his. He was somewhere between reverie and a somber melancholy. Talia walked over to one large specimen with a rounded paper pattern about its grey bark. A single bird began calling far off and fell silent.

“When a tree-runner settles, it becomes what you see before you.” He walked over and rested his right hand on the tree, closing his green eyes. “They used to speak with us often, but now they mostly communicate with one another. Our tree runners spend much time here and this is where some will choose to settle, but mute trees never speak. Can you hear them?” Jour asked.

Talia walked up beside him and rested her right hand on the tree. It felt like a normal tree. With a slight frown, she closed her eyes and tried to listen but was disappointed. “Nothing.”

“Really?” Jour smiled with his eyes still closed. “He reacted when you touched the bark. It seems he remembers you from when he was still a tree runner! Maybe this is your old friend?” Jour went quiet for a long time. “They seem rather unsettled this morning.” Branches high above swayed slightly in a distant breeze to the tune of agreement. He opened his eyes and stared back at her. “While they don’t always use words with us, we can still understand them.”
“How old is this tree settler?” Talia asked.
“Oh, he’s one of the older ones in the grove. Perhaps 1,000 years old? The trees settled here long before the Forest Shadows.”
“So for him to remember me means I must have been in that tree for a long time?”
“Possibly, unless you were a tree stuck in dormancy. Trees can remain dormant for a long time, though I don’t think your host tree was that old. There are a few mysteries here that I haven’t pieced together. In addition, other creatures aren’t born from trees. Certain trees are carnivorous like the one you came from, but they typically eat their prey.”
“I wish I were a tree so I could just settle and be done with this,” she said into the bark. Jour put a hairy hand on her shoulder.

“Previously I held onto the belief that you were a carnivorous tree-runner! It could explain your appetite for hearty food and meat, and perhaps all tree-speakers were carnivorous trees and our hesitation for promoting their growth led to the decline of your species.”
“Sound reasoning.” She spoke with eyes closed. “And now?”
He held her hand to the tree in front of them.
“We have a story in our mythology about a destructive force whose emotions led it to leak water from its eyes and knowledge into the land. It seemed such a pitiful and fearful creature. I think your kind must have been our tree-speakers of old who taught us. You have a greater purpose here than working at a butcher shop. The trees speak of you,” he whispered and closed his eyes to listen.


Talia took a moment of Jour’s distraction to whisper to the tree, “You stole me from my people and my life, you jerk!” A moment later Jour made a strange face. “They don’t seem pleased with you,” he said with eyes still closed.
“The feeling is mutual!” She kicked the great trunk in front of her. “Send me home! Why should I be pleased with you? I bet you’re a part of this whole bloody affair! I don’t know your reasons for bringing me here, but your forest friends are going to kill me!” She smacked the bark with her palms and hoped the meaning got across to the giant. Jour was watching her horrified. He could be lying through his teeth about hearing the trees thoughts.

She screamed at the tree all her frustration and rage. When she was done, Jour waited a moment with the tree but watching her.
“What do they say to that?” She looked at him vehemently. He waited a moment for her to calm down before he replied.
“They say you were dying when they found you. They saved you from your age.” His look was crushed. “Your people killed everything including themselves.”
“We did.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. “But why save me from that?”
“Because you don’t have that heart to destroy. You have the heart to heal and protect.”
She walked away from the tree, Jour quickly catching up with her pace. According to him and the all-knowing trees, humankind had not survived and she was a living relic. If the trees wanted something from her, they had better find a way to keep her alive.

It was roughly 7am when they reached home and the morning sun filtered through the trees in a golden and green haze. The whole neighborhood was eating outside with their respective families and extended family visiting from out of town. The strange lull in conversations was the only indication that something was off, but they would drift between the mat-laid seating places and converse in groups of laughing women and men quietly nodding along to tales of the one that got away. Whether they were talking about hunting or women Talia wasn’t sure. She sat beside Jour this time, silent and with eyes downcast. She was the last human alive. Home was dead, hope was gone, the future lost. She’d failed everyone.

A few of Varah’s friends screamed and ran when she started crying again. Her blue eyes being offset by red was rather creepy and probably helped scare the boys. It made her laugh with some genuine mirth, which she turned into a sinister laugh just for kicks.
“What is wrong with you?” Maril asked.
“I am hungry for little Forest Shadows!” Talia said with a wickedly playful expressiveness and chased after Maril until all the kids were running and shouting. She would make the most of their time together and face her challenge as if nothing had changed. If she only had a few days to live, she would not squander them.


*********Horun***********

Horun ran his hand through the hair on his head. He was studying the reports of damage and sightings from the various sides of the Kurral Forest. Their enemy was getting more bold and empowered. While they had expected day raids and had kept full guard numbers on duty at all times, an evening raid like this did not bode well for him. Moreso, he could not understand their purpose. Why come this close to the Forest Shadows at night and not attack? Were those scouts sent to plan something?

“Horun Iaro,” the last messenger bowed with a hand over his chest and stepped out of the one-room guard house.

Horun’s mind kept going back to that queer tree-runner in the Fen’s home. His muscles tensed as a strong sense of anger flooding him. To be sharp in battle, one could not let emotions blind or mislead from the main objective. But this strange creature kept returning to his mind. It had not only stood its ground against a Scales, but proceeded to stare him down with such indignant spite and malice.

His hand had absentmindedly drifted to the bald patch on his left shoulder where he had first taken a blade in battle. He needed to stay focused.

Jour Fen had never been so fool hearted as to endanger his clan or others. They had trained in fighting forms through apprenticeship together and Jour had been with him in many decisive battles during a territory feud with the Beiro Valley Tribe. Jour had finally decided to settle into training rounds and into teaching botany once his children were born. Horun’s own children learned under Jour as well, but they were learning tactical strategies from Horun’s own troops to help them lead one day.

The Scales would return, but now he feared they would need to keep watch closer to the homes as well. Without tree-runners, the outlook for the new crop planting looked bleak too. Why were they taking trees? Was it tactical or had the numbers in the wild not recovered yet?

Fifteen trades a week would of course never be approved. A single trade was too much for the Council, but the request would still need to be reported. He needed to get this done quickly and make sure the borders were reinforced properly. Should he mention the tree-runner in Jour’s home as well? The right of free capture was a trivial matter compared to the implications of an individual holding Kurral Tribe property as their own.

Jour said there was something wrong with the tree-runner and he didn’t want to risk exposure to the others. Whatever the problem, it seemed she was not fit to do her job and should be removed before it caught onto the others. But the Council would never approve of terminating a tree-runner now that they had lost all but ten of their original thirty in the last two weeks of raiding.

They would not agree to do what needed to be done. She was a risk to the remaining five. She was a blemish on the Fen clan that they did not have the strength to remove. She was taking honor away from his old friend and deteriorating their clan name.

He slammed his fist on the table that held the various messages. This tree-runner was not worth a Council meeting to debate. She could vanish so easily, no one would wonder at the cause. The clans in their neighborhood – their pack – would be much safer the sooner she was removed. He hated this feeling, the need to run out and rip her throat open and be done with it.

Horun took a deep breath. Things still needed to be handled with care. No need to alarm Jour or the Council when the deed could be done more discreetly.