The land was decaying. The trees were dead, sharp, and hollow. The animals were gone, as if they had sensed the disease that came through, and most of the big ones had escaped—except the small, unassuming ones like birds, hares, and squirrels. They were now littered all over the snow, killed not by disease but by arrows. The only sound that filled the dead, empty forest was the howling—the howling of the wind accompanied by the crackling of flames, for in the center of it all was a house being ravaged by fire. Aaron grovelled before it, staring wide-eyed up at the blaze. His breaths were quick and shallow. Ash covered his short red hair until it was almost gray, his face was covered in soot, his lungs burned from the cold air, and tears streaked his face—yet he didn't know why he was crying.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?" A little girl's voice rang out somewhere in his head, and as he turned to find where it came from—

  A sharp gasp filled the cave as Aaron woke up. He looked around. The fire had gone out a while ago; the stick of cooked meat was still there, lying against the cold ash. His father was nowhere to be found.

  A sharp peck landed on Aaron's ankle, and he looked down to find Artemis staring up at him impatiently.

  "Oh... you're still here. I expected you to be gone by tomorrow." He leaned down slightly, rubbing the crow under its chin. "Guess you're going to stick around. With me, huh, Artemis?"

  He paused, looking around, before picking up the crow and leaning closer. "I had a weird dream—wanna hear it?" he whispered, looking into the crow's eyes. "I only remember there was a house on fire, and there were a lot of... dead critters everywhere." He scratched the crow's head with his finger. "I must be going insane, because it almost felt real." He smiled.

  "What felt real?"

  Aaron startled, unsheathing his knife and pressing it to the voice's throat in one motion. It was his father.

  "Goddammit, Dad, didn't I tell you to at least announce yourself when you come back? I could've killed you." He pulled the knife back and sheathed it. "I know you're a proud hunter and you're all about stealth, but don't sneak up on me like that." He huffed, looking at his father, who hadn't even flinched.

  "You have good reflexes," he stated impassively, patting Aaron on the head. It felt just like a cold chill.

  "Let's go while the sun is on our side," he said, walking ahead. Aaron followed closely.

  They walked for what felt like hours, the only sounds their own footsteps crunching through the snow. Not even the birds were chirping as they usually did.

  "Hey, Father?" Aaron paused, picking the crow from his shoulder and cradling it in both gloved palms. "Can you tell me about Mimus crows?" he said, holding the crow closer to him.

  His father looked at the crow, then at him. "I thought I told you about them... multiple times, in fact."

  "Yeah, but I want to..." He paused, clearly thinking of something. "Make sure I have all my bird nerd knowledge correct."

  "And since when were you so interested in birds?" his father accused. Aaron feigned offense.

  "I'm the only one who ever listens to you talk, Father. Everyone in the village finds your bird rants..." He lifted one hand and poked his father on the cheek, his finger tingling strangely at the touch. "Boring." Aaron smirked as his father merely glanced at him silently.

  "Alright, I'll humor you," he said, pointing at the crow's clear, translucent casque. "The Mimus crow's casque—"

  "Artemis... sorry, continue," Aaron said, listening intently.

  "Artemis's casque is essentially for bonding with other species in a mutual way. It is slightly hard on the outside and soft on the inside—something like a jelly. They can bond with almost anything and adapt to it. Take bees, for example." He motioned for Aaron to lift Artemis's wings, which the crow didn't seem bothered by. "When a bee queen gets into the casque, the crow essentially becomes a living beehive. The casque hardens and becomes riddled with holes—under its wings and torso too—but they are harmless."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Aaron let go of Artemis's wing and petted him. "I guess there's a reason you were so obsessed with these birds. They're really cool... But what if they don't bond with anything?" Aaron remarked.

  "That is almost impossible. As you know, crows live in groups, and the elders pass their bonds on to the juveniles."

  "I guess you're right." Aaron went quiet as the crow flew up to sit inside the hood of his cloak.

  "Hey, Father?... Why don't we stop this aimless walking and go somewhere specific?... Remember the red-roofed cabin?" he said, and his father turned his attention fully to him.

  "Yes, I told you about it from when I used to go on long hunting trips... What about it?"

  "Why don't we go there?" Aaron replied. "It is a resting stop for travelers, after all, right?"

  His father's fingers ran over his beard, thinking. "Not a bad idea, boy. Let's go there then."

  ---

  Chapter 2.5: You Were Always a Strong Kid

  "See anything up there?" Aaron's father asked from under the tree.

  "Nothing for miles… except trees and more trees," Aaron said, frustrated, climbing back down. "We've been searching for days and found nothing." He hopped down, breathing heavily from exhaustion and frustration. "And you're not any help either, Father. You keep repeating the same descriptions — that it's beside a hill in a small clearing."

  "Aaron, control your voice."

  "Why!?" Aaron yelled. "We haven't seen an animal bigger than a rabbit. We've been living on rabbits, squirrels, and rats, and don't get me started on the corpses…"

  Aaron paused. Far behind his father, at the edge of his vision, he thought he saw a small clearing. Standing in the middle was the silhouette of a black wolf, unmoving, staring at them.

  "What's wrong?" his father asked.

  "There is a—" Aaron pointed to the clearing, but there was nothing there. The wolf had simply disappeared.

  "I thought I…" Aaron paused, rubbing his eyes. "I thought I saw a wolf. I guess I must be tired."

  His father put his hand on Aaron's forehead. Aaron almost flinched at the icy touch but stood still, letting him examine him as the cold wind blew through his long ginger hair.

  "Dad?" he whispered, looking up at his father's hollow face.

  "You don't seem to have a fever, at the very least," his father said, removing his hand.

  "What should we do now?" Aaron asked, rubbing the spot his father had touched.

  "We hunt, then we camp," his father stated.

  The wind blew off the last few leaves as winter birds huddled inside the dead trees. Dusk had arrived, giving its final warmth before what was to come.

  "Say hello."

  Artemis shrieked from Aaron's shoulder.

  "No, say hello!"

  Artemis shrieked again, tilting his head as if genuinely trying.

  Aaron petted him as they wandered. "Hey, Father? Ever found a way to teach crows how to talk?" he asked hopefully.

  "Crows can't really talk, Aaron. You already know that. They can only mimic," his father replied coldly.

  "Well, that's because you haven't tried hard enough. I'll prove you wrong, and everyone who says mimic crows can't talk will be proven wrong!"

  "Okay then, little hunter," his father said. Aaron smiled at the nickname, remembering the village he grew up in.

  "Alright, Dad. It's a challenge. If I win, I want you to smile and laugh your grumpy butt off — especially at my jokes."

  "And if you lose?"

  "I'll…" Aaron paused, slipping his hand under his robe and pulling out three necklaces. One was a simple chain with a metal plate engraved with vines and words. The second was a wooden container with carvings, and the third was a wooden robin.

  "I'll let you have this…" He lifted the necklace with the metal plate. "I know you really wanted to talk to Grandma…" His breath hitched. "Before she disappeared last spring." He traced the words engraved on the back. "She told me she had some… secret message on it…" His fingers tightened around the cold edge. "If I were ever to need her," he murmured, more to himself than to his father, before tucking the necklaces back into his robe.

  "Deal?"

  His father paused, his face still unreadable. After a long moment, he said, "Deal."

  The moon peeked through the mountains far ahead.

  Artemis shuffled restlessly atop Aaron's head as they snuck through the bushes at night.

  "Get down here, you little feathered bastard!" he whispered, grabbing Artemis gently and placing him in his satchel. "It's too cold for you, little dumbhead." He patted the crow, and they continued sneaking.

  Far away, up in a tree, Aaron spotted an owl.

  "Father, look," he whispered. "A steel-feathered owl. Think Artemis could use some sharp feathers?"

  "We need food the most, Aaron."

  "Right, right." Aaron pulled out his bow, reached for an arrow, and drew the string.

  "Breathe in… focus."

  He lined up his shot. And then —

  A high-pitched call of an elk shattered the silence.

  Startled, Aaron released the arrow too early, narrowly missing. The owl flew away.

  "I'm sorry, I—"

  His father held up a hand. "Let's continue hunting."

  "Right…"

  They crept toward the sound, stopping behind a tree. Aaron peeked around it. There was an elk eating quietly, far ahead.

  "I never thought I'd see something bigger than a squirrel," he whispered in awe.

  The elk let out another high-pitched call, shaking its head back and forth.

  "Something's wrong," his father muttered.

  Aaron noticed a grey wolf crouched nearby, slowly moving toward the elk. It was thin — ribs showing, muscles weak, barely enough strength to hunt one more time.

  As the wolf neared, a muffled shriek came from Aaron's satchel.

  Both animals froze. The wolf looked toward them, but the elk kept its eyes on the wolf. It didn't run or stomp. Its breath fogged in the cold air, drawing the wolf's attention back. The wolf snarled, preparing to lunge.

  Before it could, the elk charged — head down, antlers aimed at the wolf. The wolf's body flew through the air, landing just in front of Aaron's hiding spot. He covered his mouth and nose, crouching hard against the tree.

  The elk approached, stopping just in front of it — directly above the wolf's body.

  A sound filled Aaron's ears that he knew too well from his hunts: teeth ripping through flesh.

  The elk called once more before continuing to eat the wolf. Blood spread across the snow.

  Aaron felt vibrations beneath his feet — quick, distant thuds rippling through the ground.

  Something was coming. Closer.

  The thuds grew louder. In the distance, a metallic clanging echoed — heavy, deliberate. The sound grew and then abruptly stopped.

  Choked gurgles came from behind him. The elk fell silent. Aaron's heart raced as a strange, alien noise filled the air — almost like a spinning cogwheel. He didn't dare peek, both hands pressed over his face. Then — silence. Whatever had arrived had finished its task and left.

  Aaron stayed frozen for a long moment before peeking out. The wolf lay open, eaten. The elk rested atop it, three deep claw marks across its neck nearly severing its head. The body twitched, legs jerking as if still trying to run, but it didn't move.

  Strange gray and black growths covered the elk's body, and its eyes glowed a dull, eerie gray.

  "I… g-guess we don't have to worry about food," Aaron stuttered, wiping his eyes.