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A Real Eye-Opener

I've always been the adaptable sort. From early on, even in primary school, I've been able to roll with the changes to my surroundings, whether it be new faces or new places or new experiences. This ability was uniquely useful for someone seeking to start their own business, and I find that it serves me doubly so in the wilds.

After several more days of trekking over the winding paths through the foothills, we come out onto a plateau of sorts, the end of our road. It looks out over a small village, but a busy one, filled with the hustle and bustle of tribal life. I smile down over the village and resettle my grip around my staff. My first experience with it, but I'm ready.

The days since that first on the trail were spent in a similar manner. We would walk through the day and then settle around the fire, relaxing and warming up as much as we could in the steadily growing chill. Then Quinelia would take her leave and Rasithenuk would talk quietly with me about various topics: his herbs and teas, Quinelia's hunting, my old business, even, if I was lucky, our pasts. Then, we'd retire as well and the maned wolf and I would huddle up for warmth underneath our blankets and sleep until the next morning, when it would all begin anew with breaking down the camp.

And now we're here, and none too soon. This far out into the north, winter rolls in with little warning and it's no different here, even if we've moved far enough south for a change of scenery. My breath clouds the air in a thick fog and I can see the steaming clouds coming from my companion's muzzles as well. We're all grateful for the sight.

We're spotted on our way down the narrow trail to the village and a cheer comes up from the scouts that recognize Quinelia and Rasithenuk. The sleek forms of the tribal tayra bounce back and forth between high rocks and low hills, swiftly covering the distance up to the trail. Within moments, Rasithenuk has the cart snatched from his paws with a chiding voice, what appears to be the youngest scout speaking at him sharp and quick, a cadence that I can hear as respectful but disapproving. The maned wolf leans in and mutters to me, "They still do not like seeing me do any kind of manual labor anywhere near their lands."

That gets me to chuckle, then I almost immediately regret it. The other scouts that had started to gather around Quinelia almost immediately whip around with bows drawn, levelling about a half dozen arrows at me almost faster than I can blink. Then I actually do blink and take a step back.

As it has been for me, the language that spills from their muzzles buzzes and burns in my mind until links to my own language form, almost visibly. After but a moment, the short, almost barked question makes itself known to me. Rasithenuk opens his muzzle to translate, but I shake my head subtly. When I open my mouth to address them, I can see the words that I'm going to say turn into different ones in my mind's eye, assuring me that it will be in the language that they addressed me in. I can only guess that it is Haran, their native tongue. They asked me why I am traveling with the wise healer.

"The healer has brought me with him under his own discretion. There is no deception at work here, friends." I extend my paws out in front of me, the empty one palm up. I'm running off instinct now, but Rasithenuk's smile urges me to continue doing just that. I know that I have some sort of blessing, if what I had heard Quinelia say is true. I have to trust myself to do some strange things.

And it works! They lower their bows and I see at least two of their number furrow their brows in confusion. One who looks to be an invader, the ones who defile the land and disgrace the Spirits, speaks their language and knows their greeting? "What manner of devilry is this?" the obvious head of their group says, stepping towards Rasithenuk. He answers in Krillik, my guess so that Quinelia isn't left in the dark. I have the strangest notion that she could understand him either way, just not specifics.

Rasithenuk also spreads his paws open, palms up, and smiles to the tightly bundled tayra. "No devilry, Kassathar. My hunter and I saved his life and he has forsaken his past in favor of the future. He is my ward while we remain here and I take full responsibility for his actions until the time that we depart, after the snow. Acceptable?"

The scout eyes my companion with his evaluating gaze, then turns to his men. "Back to your posts! I will escort them to the Chief. We will continue when I return."

The group disperses, and I notice that the cart is gone. "Do not worry," Quinelia's voice echoes into my ear and I actually jump in surprise. I forget how quietly she moves. "They will take it to the dwelling they keep for us. Fritir will see to it that everything is set up and comfortable for when we arrive there. The little one is always eager to please."

I turn to her as Kassathar starts to lead Rasithenuk away, hanging back enough to keep my words private. "How is it you can understand them? You said you didn't speak Haran."

She puts a finger to my lips and smiles. "Tonight, Cayne. Rasi will be kept busy and we can talk in private. Come, we do not want to be dragging our paws." She jogs after the other two and I have no choice but to hobble along after her.

I attract many gazes as we are led through the tents and lean-tos constructed and set up across the little valley, nestled comfortably between the hillsides and the base of the plateau. An oddity among oddities, though I see recognition pass through the gazes that sweep over my two companions. To think that a people so unlike their own have been accepted here is warming to my heart. I hear whispers here and there as we wind through the village, but when I look at Quinelia I see her ears plastered against her head and her eyes mostly shut in a grimace. The moment I move to see if she's okay, her eyes snap open and she shakes her head at me. I mentally shrug and grump quietly to myself. I guess it's just another thing that will be explained "tonight."

Within a moment, we approach a wide, tall tent that can belong to none other than the Chief of the Haransiri. The head scout stops us at the entrance with a word and sweeps inside without us. A pawful of quiet seconds follow, then we are beckoned to come inside and join them.

The Chief is an elder Tayra, of course, one of the older ones that I have seen in the village. He sits on top of a bundle of animal hides draped over a wooden chair with a staff in paw, the head of which is decorated with feathers of various woodland birds. We stop across a firepit from him and Rasithenuk and Quinelia almost immediately bow to the elder. I follow their lead for now, lost as to what customs may be needed here. As we wait for the Chief to address us, I rack my brain for the information that Rasithenuk had given me about the Haransiri.

Before I'm able to get a firm grasp on any of it, he speaks. "Greetings once again, favored visitors. Rasithenuk, wise healer, and Quinelia, honored warrior." They bow again, but remain quiet. "And welcome to our humble village, one who travels with our esteemed friends. I have been told that the wise healer has taken responsibility for you. My own warriors have witnessed him saying that you have forsaken your own past among the invaders. Is this so?"

At a subtle nod from Rasithenuk, I step forward and bow once more before the Chief. My heartbeat thuds heavily in my ears and I can feel my stomach fluttering in my nervousness. Again though, when I speak, my words link with their language and that is what comes out. "That is so, Great One. I was borne as Cayne Thurston, but I have forsaken the surname and customs of my people since the moment my life was saved by my keepers. I travel away from my former kin with a clear conscience and no regrets." I step back to my place by Quinelia's side and avert my eyes to the base of the fire.

"So be it. Kassathar, you have heard and witnessed the affirmation. Cayne is to be allowed amongst our people and is to be treated with the respect of one of our own. Any who disobey will answer to myself and the Spirits. You are dismissed." He gestures at his scout with the staff in his paw and the younger tayra immediately slinks from the tent. I'm pinned in place still by the elder's gaze and I notice that neither of my companions have moved either.

After another few moments, Rasithenuk's posture relaxes and he glides around the fire to approach the Chief. "Thank you for the warm welcome, as always, Tirras. How are you feeling these days?" He speaks not as a lesser to a greater, but as among friends. His tone allows me to relax and I see Quinelia doing the same.

"Better than I have in seasons, now that you are here. I have been worried that the Krillik'toa have eyes for our tribe again and it is a relief to see you and Quin here once again. Your timing is ever astounding, my friend." The relief in the tayra's voice is almost tangible. Quinelia motions me over towards another pile of hides stretched over a stout log, where I gratefully sit and stretch out my legs. "And your company is astounding as well. Tell me, where did you rescue this interesting soul?"

The maned wolf angles himself towards me so that his cool blue eyes can regard me. "His establishment had been the victim of a tragic accident and he would have died had I not seen the smoke and had Quinelia scout it out for me. He was nearly within Death's claws when she brought him to me."

The Chief chuckles then, startling me. "And you worked another one of your miracles, I see." He turns to me with a soft smile, one that seems to make him appear more as a kindly grandparent than as the ruling figure. Perhaps that is the point. "Well, Cayne, I have to say that you are definitely the luckiest soul among your people, I have no doubt. Once again, welcome to my village and I hope that you enjoy yourself while you stay, as much as possible."

With that, I am clearly dismissed. I stand and give him a bow, a quiet word of thanks, then step lively out into the bright daylight once more. The cold blue of the sky reminds me of Rasithenuk's eyes for a moment, then I hear the tent flap open and shut again. Quinelia comes up at my side and takes my arm. "Come, I'll take you to where we'll be sleeping."

Without another word, she guides me off towards the base of the plateau towards another larger than average tent that is set up there, smoke already rising from the vent like flaps arranged at the peak of it. I hear the shuffling of footsteps from inside as we approach and Quinelia sighs. "Fritir, I think you've done enough tidying up for us. Kassathar will want you back on your patrol. Be gone with you!"

The tayra that had originally snatched the cart from Rasithenuk's paws emerges with a sheepish grin, then just nods and takes off with no further words. I turn a questioning look to my genet companion, who simply shrugs to me. "I did mention that he is far too eager to please, did I not? Some days I must beat him away with a stick if I wish for any quiet to meditate in." She guides me into the tent.

"Surely he means no harm, though. Even the Chief seems fairly relaxed and friendly in the face of a stranger. Moreso than the scouts, that's for sure." I find a corner that's well covered with plush blankets and hides and settle onto them, wrapping one around myself so that the fire can warm it, then me. "Though I imagine it's their job to be high strung."

I watch Quinelia as she circles the fire and settles into the blankets at my side. "It is, and rightly so. I can feel the power of this land in my bones. You could too, if you were more attuned to it. They are very eager to protect that."

I feel the vague sense of agreement echoing in my mind in a voice not my own, which makes me almost visibly flinch. "About that, Quin..."

She sighs and turns, leaning more heavily and resting her head on my thigh. "Cayne, there is much about this world that you do not yet understand. It makes it hard for us to find somewhere to start. This land, these people, can help with that. It's... difficult to explain why we have kept you, and honestly a little frightening." She pauses and lets out a heavy sigh. Her eyes watch the crackling fire with no real focus. I rest a paw on the side of her neck to let her feel the comfort from the touch. "What I'm going to tell you is something I hadn't planned on revealing for a long time, but you having your visions has forced my revelation, I feel. Please do not tell Rasi. I do not wish him to be upset with either of us."

"Your secret is safe with me, Quin." I run a pair of fingers along the base of her ear, causing her to shiver and sit up straight again. I snuggle further into my blankets with a chill of my own.

She takes a deep breath and turns to look at me, her gray eyes heavy with emotion. "Rasi and I are... Blessed beyond mortal capabilities. Both of us have lived a very long time and have seen many things which have turned our heads and our hearts to the task of saving the people of these lands."

I wince, then hide my paws in the blankets and bring them all the way up to my chin. I feel that chill coming back as she speaks. "How long... is a very long time?"

She closes her eyes and lets out the rest of her breath, turning her answer into one that I have to strain to hear properly. "I have outlived five generations of my people before they cast me out. Rasi says that he has seen twelve generations of his tribe come and go, then another five generations of your people."

The numbers boggle the mind. The interested part of my mind quickly does the arithmetic. If the average lifespan for a tribal man is seventy and the average lifespan for a colonist is eighty... "God above," I say breathlessly, the enormity of the number weighing me down enough to make me slide down from my perch, taking my blankets with me. "Y-you're..."

"About three hundred and forty seasons old, give or take a couple decades. I lost count after my tribe disowned me." Her voice remains small and quiet and she keeps her paws folded in her lap, eyes soon dropping to them. "And Rasi is around four times my age. The Spirits provide for us and keep us healthy and strong."

I shake my head in disbelief, hiding at least my muzzle in the bundle of blankets. "That's unheard of, Quin," I whisper to her, seeing her perk up and start to adopt a look of sorrow at my words. I quickly amend them. "Do not worry, I believe you, it's just unprecedented. I've never heard of anything like it." I meet her eyes again, seeing my confusion disappear into her contentment. "Do your tribes have these kinds of legends, maybe?"

She nods slowly, her ears flicking back with the movement. "Yes, though not one that would give me any insight into our current situation that I do not already have. I have thought long and hard over what we already know and there is nothing in our legends that can help." With a deft flick of her wrist, she pulls the bone handled knife that I had found in Meratown from its sheath and holds it out in front of her, flat on her palms. "This is a part of it, though. My tribe has passed down the story of this knife's original owner since time immemorial. It is one of the first stories we are told as children. Kalosia and the Spirits' War." She settles into her seat and I watch her intently. "I will tell you the story."

"Kalosia was a great hunter in that day, and he was a great warrior as well. He fought with tooth and claw for his people's protection, to make sure that they were kept safe from all that the wilds could throw at them. He begged the Spirits of the sky to help their village flourish and he pleaded with them to grant him the strength to keep them safe. He wanted to lead our people to victory over a conquering tribe, one who was trying to erase our culture and convert us to worship their gods instead of the Spirits. They burned the fields they passed through and dishonored the Spirits with every action that they took.

"The Highest Mother, the Sky Spirit, took pity on our people and Blessed this warrior with her own strength and with this knife. She gave him the Knowledge to be able to outwit the conquerors, the Understanding to know what to do when they were defeated, and a Healing touch to bring life and love back into the land that had been razed. In addition, she augmented his body to be able to perform wondrous miracles for his people, coupled with the destructive might to tear down the army around the invader's leader. He was given the Strength to conquer, but in accordance with her other gifts, the wisdom to know how to use it.

"In later years," her voice gets quieter here, almost reverent. "In later years, his strength came also from the Curses that had to be laid on him to balance out his blessings. Though he was the chosen of the Spirits, it was only his own guiding Totem Spirit who could speak to him. Each Totem of the Sky has associations with these curses and the wily Crow that guided him was able to twist the purpose of each Curse into something that would still be beneficial.

"Kalosia's font of Knowledge led him into Ignorance of the other nations, leaving him focused on solely his own people. He could never learn the language of the ones who were foreign to him. Crow took this and combined it with his power to steal the thoughts of others to make something far more dangerous. If Kalosia focused, he could make others hear him in their thoughts, or even change their memories.

"His Understanding of the forces that he wielded as well as the people he served gave him great wisdom in dealing with the aftermath of the war, but the intelligent approach was found in his Weakness. He appeared as lesser than he really was to many and was taken advantage of many times due to the confusion. His Weakness came to him physically as well, far earlier than anyone else in our tribe. Crow used his magic to let Kalosia cast his weakness onto others, withering them as he had been and beyond that, to the point of helplessness.

"Then there was his Strength. He could run faster than any other, jump farther, throw harder, and lift heavier objects. He was the pinnacle of power. But with his strength came Isolation. With all of these wonderful attributes, who could measure up to him? Who could call him their friend in good conscience? Who could aspire to be his mate? He was alone. Crow twisted the reasoning of others and allowed Kalosia to become even more persuasive than he was before, granting him charisma and charm to gain a following out of almost anyone. He would remain alone in name, but would never want for company.

"Finally, his Healing touch led him into Destruction. The powers that granted him the ability to heal would tear him apart inside as their payment. Rather than allow this to happen, Crow created a way for him to store that energy instead, and then release it as if he had magic of his own. His Curses had become strengths of their own.

"The Highest Mother saw what Crow was doing for Kalosia and struck down the great warrior, before more harm could be done. She did not admonish Crow for what he did for the warrior, though. Instead, she allowed the Blessings and Curses to remain as they were, in case the world that she watched over needed them again."

I stare at her for a pair of breaths longer, then avert my eyes to the fire. Totem Spirits of the Sky... are those what I saw in my companions? The hummingbird and the raven that my dream crane mentioned, are they spirit guides? And then there's the Blessings and Curses, which I heard Quinelia and Rasithenuk talking about directly. "Okay, so..." I try to work it out in my head, but I figure that Quinelia can see that (if I'm right) and beats me to it.

"As I said to Rasi, you've seen our Totem Spirits, that first night of travel. Right before you fainted, I could feel Crane guiding your vision and revealing himself to you again. You've been Blessed, Cayne, just as Rasi and I have been. My guide has been Raven, Crow's sister. Rasi has listened to the words of Hummingbird for his many years. Your guide is Crane, one of the older and more venerable among the Spirits. He is also one of the more powerful." She lays her paw on my shoulder, probably to comfort me since I've started shaking.

And as I think about it more, my shaking only gets worse. It's all so much to take in. They've lived for so long, does that mean I'm going to as well? I'll outlive everyone I've known, my nephews and niece, my little brother, even my parents? And... Crane (if that is who the voice in my dreams has been) has called me Blessed one. Does that mean I've been given one of these blessing that she spoke of? Or is that just getting ahead of myself? "Why would I have a Totem Spirit, Quin? My family practices the primary religion of Circushia, where the spirits do not exist. There is only one higher being in our culture." I fumble over the question and the explanation, feeling so much smaller than I ever have before. I cannae wrap the blankets any tighter around myself.

"Rasi said that Crane had chosen your line for a reason, and that means that in his wisdom, the great spirit saw that there would be one who would accept them. To Understand them. That is why he gave you the Blessing of Understanding and the Curse of Weakness. He knew, and still knows, that you can withstand the burden and flourish under his guidance." Her eyes are sincere, but I cannae look at them for more than a few moments.

I feel faint. I feel cold. I feel so utterly important but I could never be that important. I'm a Tavern Keeper! Tavern Keepers don't get chosen by higher powers for anything other than to slide a mug of ale to the hero! Everyone knows that we aren't meant for anything else! That silly dog of old, all of my memories of who I was before seem so distant from who I am now. I haven't cracked a joke in weeks. I do more listening than I do talking these days. I barely speak when spoken to! Who am I becoming, that I am leaving myself behind?

"Calmly, calmly, friend Cayne. You are adjusting, so it is normal for there to be some change. It does not get easier, but it does get more familiar. Trust me on that count." Her warmth presses against my side and I can do nothing except instinctively lean into it.

"So Raven gave you Knowledge, then?" I find my voice after a breath, but I can hear it break. I clear my throat and go back to quiet.

"And Ignorance, which is why I cannot speak more than Krillik and Vris. It took me nearly half a century to learn Krillik, even. But I can hear and understand the thoughts that form the words, so I do not need to speak the language to know what is being said." She pauses, and I hear a dry chuckle that shakes her body against mine. "That is why you saw me grimacing earlier. I had to focus to shut out the thoughts of so many. It has been a while since I've been around so many active people."

"And Rasi has been given Healing, then. That's how he saved me." I start to understand why my body only needed to recover its strength after only a month. It takes longer than that for bones to mend.

She nods at my shoulder, her voice close enough to my ear to make it flick. "And me, once upon a time. For a purpose, one that The Highest Mother has deemed important enough to once again grant mortals her blessings. If Rasi knows why, he hasn't told me, but it has to be something dangerous for the Spirits to come to us in person."

I consider her words for a moment, living out possibly the most surreal experience of my life aside from my near-death. "Wait, but what about-"

"Strength? I haven't been able to locate the one Blessed with Strength. That is another reason that Rasi wanted to take us here, to the Haransiri. Their attunement with the Spirits will allow us to listen to them more closely, see where they are guiding us. With you along, Crane can show us what needs to be done and where we need to go."

I put my head in my blanket covered paws and shudder yet again, the blankets feeling paper thin around my body. This doesn't make a lick of sense, yet here I am, speaking a language I've rarely even heard before a month or so ago, living amongst a tribe that I would never have been accepted by in my many years of life. Quinelia's story does provide explanations for a lot that has happened since the fire, but it's almost too much for me to hold to. I cannae believe it, but I do.

"I had meant to save this for a more relaxed time, possibly after some tea from Rasi, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. You needed to know what has happened to you, so you don't worry about the dreams anymore." Her arms circle around me as I bundle up tighter, my knees hugged to my chest. "I know they've bothered you; I could see it that night you came back from Meratown. Rasi doesn't understand what this kind of knowledge does to you, since you aren't steeped in our culture. I don't understand your culture, but I can see what it does to you." Those deceptively strong arms squeeze around me, pushing warmth back into my limbs where they were starting to become cold. "And I'm sorry that this had to happen to you, Cayne. It is more of a burden than a person should have to bear."

I sigh and drop my head further, resting it on my knees. My brain is working overtime trying to parse all of this new information, the story and the revelation both. The first holds so many clues into the culture of the Vristlenak tribe, but without more context I'm afraid that the clues lead in circles instead of to conclusions. And the revelation... it tells me a lot about my companions, and why they are so secretive about their pasts. There's just so much of that past, it would have raised too many questions.

And them being rejected by their tribes makes sense too. If my parents had a friend who came over every day while I was growing up, then continued to visit me even after they had gone gray and senile without aging a day, I probably would have pushed him away too, no matter what the explanation was. Now I've been thrown in with two outcasts, finding myself to be one of my own choosing. It's so far removed from what I used to be, how I used to act, that I feel myself literally split in two, internally. I cough, then cough again, more violently. My body is rejecting the feeling harshly and I cannae blame it.

I curl around myself and hack through another round of violent coughing, then I start to really shake. The moment I lose my balance and fall over, Quinelia actually jumps back with a startled hiss. "Cayne, are you okay?"

In my daze, I debate with my split self on the question. It's such a silly thing to ask, because most of the time it's asked of someone who is obviously not "okay". I don't deem it worthy of an answer but my other half does, so my head shakes. The genet darts from the tent, leaving me alone with myself. I've always thought I made pretty good company. I agree with myself, there. I'm not that bad a guy, I guess.

I lay there on the ground for twelve eternities, the world slowly spinning around my head. I feel detached from it, so much so that I feel as though I start to float. Maybe that's just me, but I cannae close my eyes without the spinning getting faster and threatening to make me retch. It's almost like I've been drinking again. But no, I promised myself I would never get that drunk ever again, and I'm not the kind of man who goes back on my word, especially to myself. I would never forgive me. No you haven't been drinking, Cayne. Is it shock, then? I felt like I was taking everything pretty well. I understand what she was saying and I was able to draw the correct conclusions as well, but something just felt off the whole time. The creeping chill, the pressure on my mind; something was very wrong.

Maybe it is shock. Well, I don't think we can keep this from Rasithenuk now. I have no doubt that he will ask what caused this and either I will lie to him, which I promised not to do, or I will tell him the truth and he will be upset with both of us. I do not know which is better at this point.

Will I even be in any shape to speak when he gets here? I feel my vision darkening as I lay there, my head thankfully turned away from the fire so I don't have that brightness burning into my eyes. But I definitely feel weak, barely conscious. My mind floats in and out of delusions of returning home to my little brother and family, then watching them all grow old and die while I take care of each new generation. That image strikes me to the core and I feel the first few tears make their way from my eyes. I want my little brother back. I miss my family. I want to tell them that I'm sorry, that they were right. I shouldn't have gone off like I did, even if they were being unreasonable. Even if they wanted everything I could give them.

Even if they were actually wrong.

I just want to be somewhere that feels familiar, that feels safe. My mind regresses to that scared little pup who had night terrors all the time, who always found a way into his little brother's room to have someone next to him in his fear. I curl up and my tail loops up into my paws for me to cling to, starting to sob into the blanket around me, tangling myself hopelessly in it. The weight of what has happened to me finally crashes onto my big stupid head all at once.

I've left behind everyone who ever meant anything to me to be with a pair of strangers. A pair of strangers who saved my life, yes, but a pair of strangers nonetheless. I've come to care about them, so I cannae just leave, but I do not want to be here, alone in this tent, any longer.

With my ear against the ground, I cannae help but hear the pounding of approaching footsteps. I don't even move from where I am near the tent flaps; I couldn't if I wanted to. My body has stopped responding to any and all things that I want it to do. Maybe my other half could do something about it. No, seems I slipped away while I wasn't looking, oh well. I'll scold myself about responsibility later.

Tears still cloud my vision when two pairs of blurry footpaws rush into the tent. I hear my name called from very far away, but all it does is make one ear flick. I feel heavy, my limbs like stones that I cannae move. After another, more forceful call of my name that just barely reaches me, I can feel myself being moved, rolled over onto my back. My clouded vision can see blurry shapes and vague colors: the tan of the tent, the gray-black of the smoke, and a red muzzle and blue dots. Is that Rasithenuk? I guess it must be. I wonder if he's going to be mad.

I cannae tell if he's mad while I'm in this state, but I find that I don't mind if he is. He obviously knows things that I do not, if he's been alive for as long as Quinelia had said. He might have a very good reason for being mad, one that I just simply am too stupid to see. I mean, I was dumb enough to think that I could be successful on my own, and that basically got me killed, for all intents and purposes. What meaning does my life even have, anymore?

Come back to us, friend Cayne.

Hush, I'm trying to wallow. My eyes shut because I don't feel the spinning anymore and I try to curl away from the probing paws I'm starting to feel over my torso. I still cannae really move properly, so I guess I have to sit here and endure it.

Then, Crane flutters into my field of view, quietly folding his wings as he lands. My ears perk up and I glare at him, trying to summon up all of my anger and direct it towards the supposed Spirit. "This is all your fault, you damn bird! Why couldn't you leave me and my family alone?" I yell at him, more despair in my voice than fury. I feel empty, broken down. Rage cannae survive in that environment.

"This is larger than you or your family, Cayne Thurston. Would you doom them in your cub-like selfishness?" His voice is powerful, though soft-spoken. It shakes me to my core and I feel myself start to shake again.

"Doom them? I want to be with them, Crane! How would doing that doom them? I'd be able to take care of them, keep them safe!" Dealing with all of this has me feeling like I have my feet on solid ground again, giving me something to push against. "You've given me the gifts that I can use to provide for them and protect them, and yet you take me away from what matters!"

"Do not assume that you know anything, Blessed one!" He raises his voice to me, his wings spreading to make him appear far larger than he is. It's an illusion that works well and I end up stumbling backwards with the force of his words. "Even with your gift, you Understand so little!" His voice comes back down to normal levels and his wings fold once more. "In time, I will guide you to what needs to be done, but for now you must have faith. What you are doing is to keep those whom you care about from harm. It is for your entire world, and you are considering letting it burn in the fires of judgement. Is that what you wish?"

The blackness around me lightens as if lit by fire and I look down, seeing that we've been moved. I'm standing in the air above Saridale, but the entire city is ablaze. I recoil in horror, then fall flat on my ass with a grunt. "What the hell is this?" My voice cracks.

Crane gestures down at the image with one wing, never moving his eyes from me. "This is what will happen if you leave. Blessed though you are, you cannot save this city. You would be the only survivor, forced into an eternity of torture at the hands of those who would do this."

Still reeling from the image, I struggle back to my feet, acutely feeling the absence of my staff as my legs tremble. "How do I know you aren't lying to me to get what you want? I've heard that the spirits are fickle and selfish." I spit out the words, to make sure I can get them out in the presence of Crane's power.

"Do not be insolent, cub," he says back, and if it isn't rutting unnerving to have your own eyes staring back at you out of a different face, I don't know what is. "I have been trying to ease you into this as best as I can, but your time is growing short and my patience is growing thin. I chose you because you are the most compatible with my gifts, and you are the strongest of your family in many, many generations. The powers of Hummingbird's chosen have kept you alive long enough to receive your Blessing and your Curse, and I ask only that you allow me to provide you counsel and guidance. I cannot take direct action, but I will be here when you need me." Crane takes long, smooth strides towards me and for the first time, I feel his fire burning inside me as well. I stand my ground. "Your weakness brings them strength. You are at the same time more important, more powerful than they, but you must rely on them for it as well. Through you, The Highest Mother's work will be done."

"Quite a statement. What am I even supposed to be doing?" The fire gives me steadiness that I need, so that I can stare into my own eyes. "What do you require of me?"

"Nothing short of a miracle, Blessed one." A sweep of his wings blocks out my vision, until the burning town is gone and there is nothing but blackness all around me. "I will be watching, Cayne Thurston. For the sake of the other Spirits, I pray you prove me right."

There is a brief sensation of falling, and then my real eyes snap open again, still cloudy with tears. There is a bright light coming from my abdomen and I cannae stop myself from jerking into a sitting position, startling Rasithenuk and Quinelia both.

"Cayne!" The maned wolf recovers first and I notice that his paws are where the light is coming from. The tips of his fingers are glowing around his claws. As I watch, the glow fades and he lurches forward to wrap me in a hug. "Spirits almighty, I thought you had been taken from us."

All of my doubts crowd in around my mind as I come back to myself, trying to force themselves forward, seemingly trying to drag me right back down into my catatonic state. I push them aside and let them be consumed by the fire that I share with Crane. These are my friends. They helped save me and I need to help them. It is how I was raised, and I will not forsake all of my past. I feel more at peace, and more like my old self. That piece has finally clicked into place. "You cannae be rid of me that easily, Rasi," I say, finally feeling brave enough to call him by the pet name that Quinelia gave him.

The maned wolf just laughs and squeezes me tighter. Quinelia looks over both of us with concern, her voice diminished and quiet. "Cayne, your soul... had been pulled from your body when I left. I can't even see what happened to you after that."

I rest my head against Rasithenuk's and smile up at the genet, as crooked and roguish a grin as I can manage. "I had a nice little chat with Crane. He helped set me straight on a couple of things, but he left me with a lot of questions. Questions that you and this guy," I pat Rasithenuk on the back to indicate I mean him, "are going to answer for me as best you can. If you cannae, I want Raven or Hummingbird to give me their two crowns of input."

Rasithenuk pulls back and stares through me with his cold eyes, but I can see the fear, the need for safety in them now. I keep a hold of one of his paws and squeeze it, taking in that fear and burning it away. "So you've finally spoken with him."

My grin gets a little wider as I look between Rasithenuk's worried gaze and Quinelia's startled expression. "Oh, I've done more than speak with him." I pat the maned wolf's paw and scoot in closer, beckoning Quinelia to make herself comfortable before doing the same, settling back into the corner I occupied previously, pulling Rasithenuk along with me. "Now, I think it's time I heard a few stories from you two."