The sky was dazzling. So many stars pierced through the sweeping darkness of night, you could almost forget it was night at all. They danced brightly amongst the three moons, each radiating their own vibrant color. The stars were free to frolic, but the moons were fixed perfectly, if unnaturally, in a line. Acting like bards, humming on stage for the birds and fae to make merry. The stars played their part in the spectacle, flashing and swirling and sparkling. The movements of any small patch of the stars would be entrancing on its own, but as a collective it was so much more than. It was a ballet beyond beautiful. Some stars moved in coordination with those around it, others were more free-flowing, but they all moved to the tune of the moons.

There was no sound, but it was hard to tell while enthralled by the show. The moons’ music paraded around the land as if there was. It was an orchestra that fed the mind’s wildest fantasies. Together with dancing stars, they lit up the sky with the most enchanting of performances. In fact, enchanting couldn’t possibly adequately describe the experience. It was more than that, much more. Unfortunately, those with the power to see it could never truly appreciate it’s magnificence. For in all of its marvel, it foretold nothing but the worst of calamities.

Dalric scowled. Too many competing thoughts raced through his head. What did it mean that he awoke to the Dance of the Forgotten? What did it mean that he awoke at all? How was he alive? Was this the Gods doing?

His last memory was dying in the fields of Aonica. A true death, a death of soul, not just body. That should have been it for him. He should have disappeared from this world permanently. Yet here he was, gazing upon the remnants of one of the greatest catastrophes in history.

What is the meaning of this?

He closed his eyes. The finale of the Dance was exceedingly bright. Though its nature wouldn’t allow it to blind a person, it was known to cause excruciating migraines. The last thing Dalric needed was an even greater headache.

The Dance soon subsided, returning the sky to its more natural green hue. The moon could still be spotted, small and masked though it was. Normalcy had resumed and Dalric was speechless. The familiarity of his surroundings was almost more shocking than the cosmic light show that preceded it. It was full-blown proof that he was back. He was alive. He was on Fyrsta. He was still Dalric the Deathseeker…

Still.

A defeated sigh escaped his lips. It would seem he was truly doomed to forever live as the Gods’ dog. He chastized himself for allowing a brief glint of hope to seep into him, he should have known better. The Gods were petty, weak, and nothing like the temples preached, but their contracts were absolute. More absolute than even Dalric realized. He lightly shook his head.

How fooli—hm? The levels haven’t dropped.

Dalric had only witnessed the Dance of the Forgotten once before and while the much younger him would’ve been forgiven for being too captivated to note his surroundings, he was just as attentive then as he is now. While the semi-illusionary show raged on far into the sky, the very real ahjer on the ground followed closely behind.

Ahjer overflowed, saturating everything. The dirt, the grass, the very air brimmed with ahjer. Anywhere and everywhere under the three moons, the concentration of ambient ahjer increased more than tenfold. In some places the levels were so high, you could physically see ahjer. A theoretical impossibility. Any trained ahjerist could sense it, but even Dalric, a master twenty times over, couldn’t see ambient ahjer. Yet the Dance could cause such anomalies.

But. Like the Dance, the odd explosion of ahjer only lasted a brief moment. It should have dissipated right as the sky returned to its normal state, but it hadn’t. As Dalric stretched out his senses, he just felt more of the same, an unnaturally thick concentration of ahjer. Another question to add to the growing list.

It was probably the most immediately concerning question, as anything linked with the Dance should be given priority, but in stretching out his senses Dalric had discovered something of even greater personal concern.

I’m...human?

Engrossed in his thoughts, Dalric had failed to notice the very, very different body that housed them. He stood. He had sensed he was laying in some sort of graveyard and standing up had confirmed it. Actually seeing the chipped, cracked, and withered tombstones scattered amongst overgrown vegetation told a more detailed story. There weren’t many of them, their size and intricate designs painted a picture of importance. At least at the times of their passing, it had clearly been decades since anyone had come to pay respects and the jungle had firmly claimed them in that time.

He faintly wondered why couldn't spot any other signs of civilization, but those thoughts quickly passed. The scenery was of secondary importance right now. He was human.

So small…

He couldn't remember the last time he stood so close to the ground. The bod… his body couldn't be more than seven and a half feet tall, less than half of what he used to stand at. His arms were short and thin, to say nothing of his legs. They felt like skin and bones compared to what he was used to. His shoulders weren't broad enough, his back wasn't thick enough. Nothing about this b—his body felt like him. It felt...wrong.

The domineering presence, gone. The monstrous muscles, gone. The impenetrable skin, gone. Dalric the Immortal Giant, gone. Though the ‘immortal’ piece was truer than ever, he supposed.

Is this punishment? Is this how the Gods toy with me for thinking I could escape them?

He sighed. As much of a downgrade as this was, it wasn't the worst reality. They could've made him a dwarf. Or just a really short human, for that matter. From a different perspective, this was a boon. Though Dalric was predisposed to desiring a massive frame, said frame caused more problems than it fixed. He could make do, he most certainly wouldn’t wallow in despair like they hoped he would.

I'll have to relearn everything. Ugh.

He reached out his hand and called for Laekna, he wished she could escape this wretched life but alas; it wasn't to be. At least she'd get a good kick out of him being so short now.

...

There was no response.

Hm?

Fear crept into his heart for a moment as he failed to even locate her, but it faded moments after as he could clearly feel their bond was still intact. He just couldn't connect to her, nor any of the others

He tried calling for her again, this time putting a bit more umph into it.

Same result.

This time though, he noticed another problem. He was weak, disgustingly weak. Not in a 'humans are weaker than giants' way, in a 'there was a pitiful amount of ahjer coursing through his body' way. Humans may have lacked any kind of respectable physical strength, but if there was one thing they didn't lack, it was a body perfectly suited for ahjer. Something was wrong.

Dalric looked inward, fully analyzing his body. Beyond the pathetic amount of ahjer in it, there weren’t any problems. In fact, it looked surprisingly good. The purity of the ahjer within him was a notch or two higher than before. In almost every case purity mattered far, far more than quantity, but currently Dalric had the quantity of a newborn child. It was—

Wait...you fool. Of course I do, I’ve just been reborn.

That answered that question, he assumed, but he now found himself in an odd situation. His body was clearly that of a full-grown adult, so would his ahjer increase like an adult’s or like a child’s? If it was the latter then it wasn’t much of an issue, he had many techniques that would boost that already remarkable growth to unimaginable levels. If it was the former...well the Gods would be out of luck cause he’d be useless for the next two centuries.

That would be humorous...but unlikely.

He’d know in a couple of days either way. A visit to a temple could wait until after. In the meantime, he had to figure out what was going on and where he even was. Aonica was known for its unnaturally flat land. Wherever he was, it had hills. The graveyard he stood in clearly sat on top of one.

So they've moved me somewhere far from Aonica, why? Do I have a mission here? Does it have to do with the Dance?

There were so many unknowns. Unfortunately, he had none of his companions to aid him in information gathering. He'd have to do it himself.

Hmm. When I find a major landmark I’ll figure out where I am, finding out why I’m here is more important. For that, I need civilization.

The denseness of the jungle led him to believe there weren't any major cities around, but jungles were great sources of food, animal skins, herbs, etc. During his brief scan earlier, he had sensed an abundance of wildlife. Even if there was no city within the jungle, there would be one close by with a frontier town feeding it with goods. Dalric just had to find that town.

He laid his left palm on his bare chest, drawing his ahjer to—

Hm...with this much ambient ahjer, I might as well use it.

He left his palm on his chest, but released his ahjer. The ahjer around him gathered as he chanted an incantation.

~“The king of the sea wields the mightiest of weapons.”~

Ahjer flowed into his right hand, slowly morphing into a spear.

~“The king of the earth wields the mightiest of shields.”~

More ahjer flowed towards him. This time converging around his left hand, molding into a shield.

~“But the king of the sky is the mightiest of all.”~

A thin layer of light shimmered in the night as ahjer coated his naked body. It grew thicker and dimmer as it pulled more and more ahjer into it. Beginning under his palm, the ahjer morphed into a tough metallic plate. First, it covered his chest and shoulders, but it quickly spread further down. Slick gauntlets covered his hands while thick boots shaped around his feet. In a matter of minutes, he donned a pure white suit of armor. It was smoother and thinner than typical armor, lacking much of the bulk and jaggedness associated with them. It wasn’t remotely skin tight, but you could easily make out the form of the human within. Save for the shoulders, wrists, hip, and ankles, it appeared like one flowing sheet of metal. It wasn’t, mobility was a key point for the suit, but it did give that impression.

The spell’s design also intelligently accounted for Dalric’s nudity and created a form-fitting gambeson-like layer underneath the plating. With the armor fully materialized, there was only one thing left.

Out of his back two large, seven-foot wings sprouted. They first appeared skeletal, bony and unmajestic. The ambient ahjer didn’t flow quick enough for them to sprout fully formed. Dalric could’ve used a portion of his own to supplement, but this was a test. A test that wasn’t going well. Eventually, after a bit of waiting, muscles covered the bone, followed by skin, followed by perfect white feathers. The ambient ahjer dispersed as his wings fluttered in their full form. The spell was complete.

Dalric frowned. He hadn’t used an incantation in centuries, partially because they were redundant but mostly because they were slow. And by the Elders were they slow. He could have completed the entire process in seconds if he did it manually. Sadly, he’d have to get used to it. His paltry ahjer levels would have been enough for this spell, but if he wanted access to a greater portion of his arsenal he’d need more. The ambient ahjer was that more, he’d just have to completely relearn how to cast spells to account for it.

And then re-relearn when they rise again.

It wasn’t all bad though, his voice was smooth. Quite smooth. After a bit of speaking and humming, he could openly admit he preferred it to his old voice. It was still deep and full of bass, but less unending abyss and more large canyon.

Sunshine, look for the sunshine.

He could almost hear Laekna drilling those words into his ear again. Always trying to get him to look at the positives. It rarely worked before, but for some reason he felt… not terrible. Maybe it was being reborn, maybe it was his human brain, maybe it was just being outside the Gods’ direct purview. Whatever it was, he hoped it lasted until he reunited with Laekna.

He quickly tried calling for her again, but the result was the same. Alas. As long as the bond was intact, he knew she was alright. That was good enough. When he was stronger, he’d break whatever was blocking their connection. For now, he had answers and a town to find.

Before setting off, he cast a quick illusion. Flying around in a bright white suit of armor would be less than wise. In under half a second, the armor exchanged its pristine white for a muted dark green. Black would obviously be the best for nighttime camouflage, but on the odd chance someone spotted him, it was better to not appear so menacing. Even without his former frame, a valinoid creature with black wings would always unnerve other valinoids.

He briefly considered using a more complete concealment spell, but decided against it. With his current measly ahjer levels, the cost would be too high to be reasonable. He had no idea how long he’d have to keep it up. Dark green wings still looked odd, but they’d have to do. He also dispelled the now green spear and shield. Their color wasn’t an issue, they were just bulky and unnecessary. He wouldn’t be able to resummon them unless he completely redid the whole spell, but he didn’t give that a thought. They were fairly weak as far as weapons go.

With his appearance sorted, he stretched out the wings and lifted himself off the ground. He rose steadily, acclimating himself to the weight difference.

Hm.

As he expected, flying was far more comfortable as a human. What he did find odd was the fact that there was no change to the performance. Even though he was less than half his old height and likely even less than that on the mass side, speed and maneuverability were the same. He just felt much less of a strain. That shouldn’t be the case, but Dalric would happily take it. The strain was what made flying massively inconvenient in his old body.

Hm. Old body…

Since he woke up he hadn't heard or felt a thing from the Gods. He knew the contract was still in place. At least he was mostly sure, in an effort to not unduly get his hopes up he just considered it a fact. Better to be pleasantly wrong than… the alternative. Being free from their direct influence for a while was nice though. It's the first time his mind hasn't felt polluted in centuries. The new, weaker body wasn't so bad considering, he'd enjoy this respite while it lasted.

He'd just have to get used to all the quirks that came with it, like his complete lack of any form of night vision. Without the Dance, black was the prominent color he could see. There were blotches of colorful foliage here and there, but darkness very much reigned supreme.

Rising above the trees, he moved to rectify that failing. Ahjer clustered around his eyes before swiftly seeping in. Though the effect would seem simple, bestowing the ability to see clearly through darkness required a very complex spell. Giant’s natural darkvision meant Dalric had rarely ever used the spell. That lack of practice meant he... made a mistake. Instead of increasing his eyes’ sensitivity to light, he decreased it, effectively blinding himself.

FANtastic.

The spell only lasted a bell. He wouldn’t be permanently sightless, but it made the scouting process a great bit more troublesome. He lightly shook his head, lost for words at how he made such an error. A lack of practice wasn’t a good enough excuse.

Are human eyes compositionally different?

He was fairly sure they functioned the same fundamentally, but there was a lot of room for him to be wrong. When he met a human’s eyes, it was usually to remove their head not examine it...

He hastily pushed those thoughts away. Thoughts of re-attempting the spell to reclaim his vision took their place, but without knowing exactly why he failed it could just make things worse. He was sure he completed the spell perfectly so something else must have been at play and this wasn't the most opportune time to try and figure that out.

Without physical sight, he’d have to completely rely on his ahjer sense. It was much better in certain ways; it was omnidirectional and couldn’t be blocked by mundane objects. On the other end however, it lacked the detail and resolution that eyesight offered. Doubly so for now, since he wasn’t at all used to his new body and the minute ways it reacted to ahjer. Either way, suffice it would.

Picking a random direction to travel towards, he hovered above the trees while scanning for creatures with abnormally high ahjer. He’d prefer to stumble upon a human civilization, and the chances were in his favor considering their population sizes, but he’d take any intelligent life. An enlightened beast would definitely know where the closest settlement of valinoids was.

It actually didn’t take long for him to encounter one. A beast that is. Unfortunately, it was neither enlightened nor interested in helping Dalric. It was on the hunt.

He awkwardly dodged as an eight-foot bird zoomed by. The beast was both silent and exceptionally quick for its size. It packed an impressive amount of agility too, spinning around before swooping for him again. Dalric stretched his fist out and let his ahjer flow into his knuckles. Moments before the bird collided with it, the ahjer burst out into a massive hand. He successfully snagged it out of the air, but before he could do anything else the bird’s feathers flared with ahjer and his own ahjer-made fist melted against them.

Oh?

Once free, the bird immediately flicked both of its nine-foot wings towards Dalric. The very same feathers that had melted the fist now flew towards his face. He didn’t have the maneuverability to dodge, so he clapped instead. Ahjer flowed through both of his palms so as they impacted one another they released a forceful wave of wind. It wasn’t enough to completely halt the feathers, but by the time they reached him he easily swatted them out of the way. While he did so, he noted the bird made a prompt and soundless exit. Realizing Dalric was no easy meal, it was off to go hunt something else.

Was that an owl? Since when did owls have a twenty foot wingspan?