It was pretty much a rule that things rarely ended up being what one expected. The moment he learned what an avian crackling was, Dallion knew that there was more to the task than Eury made it out to be. His girlfriend had the annoying habit of considering things easier than they ended up being, the single exception being Dallion’s skill requirements to become an apprentice hunter. In this case, the avian that he had come to defeat wasn’t a mere crackling bird, but a nester. Cracklings, as the name suggested, didn’t have the ability to breed. The way they multiplied was causing enough damage to a realm, so more of them would be created. It was a strange process, verging with alchemy. In Earth terms, Dallion could only express it as the visual value of entropy and decay associated with an item.

In the real world, things were even more complicated. There was no official explanation as to their appearance. From what Dallion could tell, all that was known was that they would occasionally appear in the wilderness—though never in a settlement domain—and gain an autonomy of their own. The Order of the Seven Moons claimed that all monsters were star-spawn, created by the Crippled Star itself. Whatever the truth, cracklings, chainlings, cutlings, and other similar creatures would roam about the world, devastating anything they came in contact with until they were destroyed. Occasionally, in extremely rare circumstances, a crackling with the ability to create others like it would appear. In such cases, the monsters were referred to as breeders.

You never listen to me, do you, dear boy, Nil said in a somewhat bitter tone. I told you not to accept that task. All you needed to do was tell your gorgon that you didn’t feel ready for something of this caliber and she would have given you something simpler. You could tell she was hoping to refuse by simply looking at her.

Dallion wasn’t willing to agree with the last part, but he had to admit it was looking as if he might have bitten off more than he could chew. However, since he had already made the decision, there was no backing out now, at least not if he wanted to become a hunter, that is.

Taking a sip of watered-down alcohol, Dallion looked around. He was in the village tavern. Normally, the place would be full of people who’d come here to get a drink and unwind from their daily toil. With the village chief’s home being no bigger than a standard house, the tavern also doubled as the meeting place of the village elders, where important decisions were made, and outside guests welcomed.

The door opened with a slam as the village chief entered—a massive man with arms the size of tree trunks, all dressed in thick furs. Without a doubt he was also an awakened, although seemingly a lesser level than Banra. Well past his sixties, the man was entirely bald, compensating his loss of hair with a huge gray beard. Tanned rough skin suggested that the man had seen his share of work, more than likely still going out in the field, unlike some village chiefs Dallion had known in the past.

“That him?” The man’s voice boomed, filling the room. “He’s just a kid.”

“He’s got the level,” Banra said. “And the stats.”

“And the skills,” Dallion added, putting a few notes of agreeableness in his words. Mostly, he wanted to see whether any of the locals had music skills as well. As it turned out, they didn’t.

“I guess I have no choice,” the village chief said. While the tone was stiff gruff, Dallion could tell that his attitude had changed drastically. There was no longer suspicion emanating from him, or any of the other four people in the tavern. “Allas, get him something to drink.”

“Have you grown blind? He already has something!” The tavern owner shouted back.

“Then get me something!” the chief yelled.

“Brothers,” Banra whispered, quietly enough for only Dallion to hear. Getting the picture, he nodded.

With obvious reluctance, the tavern owner—far fatter, though with more hair—took a half empty bottle, then slammed it on the table where Dallion was sitting. The village chief glared at him, then took his seat at the table.

Well, no one has put echoes in the people of this village, that’s for sure, Dallion thought.

“How much does he know?” The village chief turned to Barna once again.

“I told him we’re dealing with a breeder and its spawn,” the woman replied.

“So, you know pretty much everything.”

That sounded extremely unlikely. Thanks to his music skills, Dallion could sense that there was more hidden. However, it seemed it would take a nudge to get it.

“Is that why you’re only mending the village wall?” he asked, adding more agreeableness to his words.

“We’re mending everything we could. It’s just too much!” The village chief took a gulp from the bottle. “The wall is the only thing that those pesky birds avoid! Stay a few days and you’ll see. There always is a chick or two perching on some building. Most of them are easy to kill, but somewhere there’s a big one that keeps making them, and until someone takes care of that, the small ones will keep coming.”

That explained a few things, it also indicated that the avian was still in the general area.

Nil, I could really use your help on this, Dallion said.

You’ve seen everything that’s in the library. What do you expect me—

I want to know things that aren’t in the library, Dallion interrupted. You told me to give up on this the moment you heard it. You’ve never done so before, unless it was part of an awakening trial. Clearly, it isn’t a trial, so you know something.

It’s not something you can hear, the old echo begrudgingly said.

Even as an initiate?

It doesn’t have to do with the Moons. You’re just not ready to hear it now!

It was rare for Nil to be so adamant. After all this time, Dallion knew the echo well enough to know he wasn’t getting any other information, no matter how much he pressed. And while it went a way to confirming Dallion’s suspicion, it didn’t help him in the immediate situation.

“And where’s the big one?” Dallion asked.

“If I knew that I’d be out there hunting it!” The old man took another gulp. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“It was seen by a traveling merchant,” the tavern owner said, visibly annoyed at his brother. “Familiar guy. Comes through here every few months for logs. The bird swooped down at him and ruined his wagon. The man barely managed to get here alive. After that, the creature attacked this place, and a few of the other villages.”

“Anyone hurt?” Dallion asked.

“Not directly,” Banra replied. “One of the buildings collapsed on someone in another village. They’re mostly fine.”

“If we don’t stop those pests, we won’t survive the winter,” the village chief said. “Harvest is nearing. So far, we’ve managed to repair the barns, but the chicks are getting more and more. If we lose the barns, we lose the food. If we lose the food…”

“I’ll take care of that,” Dallion said. “Here at least. I need to see the chicks in action. Is there any place I can stay?”

The question made the people look at each other. Their initial suspicions and hostility had vanished, but they were still uncertain where to put him.

“Vadle is a small place…” the old man began apologetically. “We can ask about it, but it won’t be anything you’re used to. If you want, you can spend the night here. It’s better than the barn… mostly.”

“I don’t need to sleep. I just need a place to stash my things for a while.”

“Ah. That can be arranged.” The village chief’s mood improved. “So, you think you can catch it?”

“If it’s what I think it is, sure.” Dallion smiled. “Any chance I can talk to the traveling merchant? Would be nice to know where he was attacked exactly.”

“Well. The thing about traveling merchants is that they travel. He left a week after the incident.”

The conversation then shifted to Dallion. The villagers were interested in his skills, to the point that he was forced to do a demonstration and improve the table he was at to oak. That seemed to reassure them to the point that most lost interest. The village chief finished his drink, then left. Soon after, he was joined by Banra and the remaining few elders. Only the tavern owner remained and offered Dallion space in the storeroom to place his items. The space wasn’t much, but enough for his backpack and shield. And just to make sure everything was in order, Dallion left his whip blade there as well, to keep watch.

Once that was over, Dallion went out to check the damage left behind. The village chief wasn’t joking when he said that it was a blight on the people. The amount of cracklings in the realms affected by the avians was significant. Dallion had to spend hours in each to restore things to their former state.

As he went from one house to the next, a pattern started to emerge—one that suggested that there was more than a flying crackling gone wild. While it was normal for the high buildings to be affected, there was little logic for all the barns to be as well. It was looking as if they were specifically targeted.

Eury used to say that the key to understanding every creature was to find what determined its behavior. The Shadow Griffins stole eggs so they could create offspring, the cutling wanted to lash out at the people it thought had subjected it to pain, and grow stronger in the process. What did the avian want? It wasn’t to destroy the village, it would have done so already, if it had directed its entire swarm to Vadle. Instead, it focused on high buildings and barns.

The locals weren’t much help either. While all of them had witnessed several attacks, their description of events vastly differed. It was almost as if a different species had swooped down onto the village each time. The only consensus was that the creatures were no larger than a cat and had wings.

The attack pattern also strongly varies. At times the creatures would appear several times a week, while in other instances a month would pass without a single incident. As terrible as it was, Dallion hoped that the next attack would be soon. Seeing where the cracklings came from was definitely going to give him a starting point of finding the breeder. Also, he was really curious to see this new species.

You still won’t tell me what has you worried? Dallion asked, while waiting.

Will it do any good? Nil asked in turn. You remind me of the time when I tried to get you to learn the basics of awakening and you still refused to read all the scrolls that were readily available.

Why don’t you let me decide? I’ve earned that much, I hope?

There was a long moment of silence. Dallion could feel the echo’s hesitation resonate throughout his entire realm. However, he had no idea as to the reason.

Avian is a general term, Nil began at last. It’s nothing more than a grouping of species based on the principle that the creatures in question are flying. However, that doesn’t mean they are birds, or even that they have wings.

The people seem to be convinced that they did, Dallion said.

Dear boy, birds aren’t the only creatures with wings. Nor are all cracklings created in the realms. Some are born in the world itself.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Before the echo could answer, Dallion saw something in the distance. It was still sunset, so parts of the sky weren’t dark yet. Several black dots had emerged, moving closer as they flew along an irregular pattern. It seemed he had gotten his wish: the village was about to be attacked by cracklings soon enough.