“Well, here it is. Welcome to my den!”

Kuro tilts her wing forward, leading my gaze around the clearing below the busy canopy of a sizeable elderus tree. Similar to the one I found near Archer’s Point, the ground here is well-manicured, with only sparse thickets and young deciduous trees growing no taller than a quarter my height. A talonpath through the underbrush follows into a small, grass-filled depression in the ground that leads to the far end of the clearing where the elderus’ massive trunk lies. Even from our spot at the edge of the clearing, I can smell the stale scent of Kuro and Enyll emanating from the hole in the roots where they sleep at night.

“It’s… nice!” I smile, hazarding a guess. It’s only the second elderus den I’ve ever seen.

“Isn’t it?!” Kuro smirks. We walk side-by-side as we trot down the path toward the tree. “This den has been in my family for generations. It was my mother’s and Meldi’s before her. So, I’m very particular about the way it looks. I forced Enyll to work hard in greenwing and clear out all the new growth. We haven’t had any ambushes since last harvestwing.”

I give her a sidelong glance. “Ambushes? Is that why you remove the underbrush?”

“It’s one of the reasons,” she says. “If it becomes too crowded under one of these old trees, its growth can be stunted.”

I stop in my tracks. “Stunt the growth? You mean elderuses can grow bigger than this?”

Kuro looks over her wing and blinks. “Elderus…?”

“It’s what Farlanders call this tree species,” I explain. “Though there’s only one other tree like this in the Farlands, and it’s not this big. It happens to grow at my den in Ellyntide.”

“Really! I never knew there were old trees like this in the Farlands.”

“And I never knew our tree could be considered small.”

We both pause, our eyes locked together in morbid fascination. I can’t believe I’m conversing with a Lithan about elderus trees. Didn’t professor Willow give me some advice if I found myself in this implausible situation? Boy, would he be jealous! With the professor’s astonished face in my head, I laugh and bound forward to rejoin Kuro by her side. “There’s still a lot we have to learn from each other, isn’t there?”

“Mmhmm,” she nods. “I’m looking forward to all the stories you have yet to tell me.”

We resume down the path, gingerly stepping over the rotten trunk of a fallen cedar. This den, this clearing, this tree… it will serve as my home during the coming days. Perhaps longer. I once thought I could make it this far in Felra of my own volition if I just... tried hard enough. I was such a fool.

“Is that why you’re doing this for me?” I ask out of the blue.

Her head tilts. “Doing what?”

“Helping me out,” I clarify. “You insisted you introduce me at Flat Rock, and then you leaped at the chance to be my mentor during the gathering. Kuro, we’ve only known each other for a few days...”

“But I’ve never met a Farlander before,” she says, bringing her head close to mine. “You’re right. I loved that little story you told me last night. Asha, you’re just... interesting to be around.”

I stare past her face and into the distance. For some reason, I was expecting a different response from her. But why would I? For as long as I’ve known Kuro, she’s had an insatiable curiosity about the Farlands. Of course she’d want to spend as much time as possible around the first Farlander anyone’s ever met.

“Well, listen,” I clear my throat, forcing myself to meet her face. “I never got the chance to tell this to Calypso, but I really appreciate all you’ve done to help me. The past few days have been life changing, and I never thought I would land in Felra and make such an important friend this quickly. So, thank you.”

I exhale, relieved of that particular weight from my chest. I’ve wanted to confess my friendship since last night, but it never felt like the right time until now.

Kuro stares at me, having trouble locating her voice. “Asha...” she trails off. I’m sure I’d see her cheeks blushing if feathers weren’t in the way. “I... um. Thank you, Asha. I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you is enough,” I smile. I wasn’t expecting anything more than that.

Keeping my gaze forward, we pace the rest of the way to the tree in silence. I don’t want to glance over and risk weirding her out more if she’s feeling uncomfortable. Honestly, was she really not expecting me to thank her? She must be like Sofl; terrible at taking compliments.

“Well,” Kuro breaks the silence as we approach a lithan-sized hole against the roots of the elderus. “This is where we sleep.” She angles a wing inside. The ground lowers into a depression and is covered in a shallow mix of dried foliage, moss, and down feathers.

“It’s just like the tree we slept in the other night,” I observe, stepping forward to get a peek inside.

“Most of our root dens are like this,” Kuro explains. “Enyll doesn’t like having this much fluff in his den, but it’s the way I prefer it.”

I chuckle a little to myself. It’s not difficult to imagine Enyll arguing with Kuro over an idiosyncrasy like den bedding. It almost makes me feel bad about him.

“Asha…” Kuro’s voice fizzles, the tone of it unexpectedly turning serious. “Would you...” the words slip from her mouth, and she averts her gaze. Her tail is swaying rapidly through the grass.

“Kuro?” I take a cautious step toward her. What is she trying to ask?

“...It’s nothing.” she exhales sharply. “Forget I asked. I’m going to take a nap. Why don’t you acquaint yourself with the area around the den?”

Um, okay? That was weird. I’ve never seen Kuro act like this before. What was she trying to ask that was so difficult?

I smile all the same. “Alright. There’s some stuff I wanted to do around the tree anyways.” It’s around the middle of the day, so I guess she wanted to take me hunting or show me something else in the area. But truthfully, I’m rather anxious to test a few things and need some time to myself.

Kuro seems relieved, quickly flashing a smile before turning to slip into the comfort of her den. With time to myself secured, I promptly set off and get to work.

After trotting a short distance away from the base of the elderus, I gaze back to view the twisting roots of the tree. I examine them closely and frown, dissatisfied by my work so far. I huff a sigh and trot back to the tree for another pass. It must be perfect if I have to do it this way! Carefully, I raise my wing above my head and use the claw to score another mark against the bark.

“Asha?”

I whirl around to see Kuro standing at the base of one of the elderus’ more extensive roots, her hackle feathers ragged and unkempt, illuminated by a sunbeam passing through the canopy above. “What are you doing?”

“Oh!” I chirp, taken slightly by surprise. “You’re just in time. It’s not perfect, but I think I’m ready to show my work to someone else.”

I tilt back my head, beckoning Kuro to follow. She tips her wings and marches with me back to my viewing position a few yards from the base of the elderus. “You’ve been busy,” she mumbles, realizing the extent of my work. She shakes her head, trying to knock away lingering sleep, and blinks a few times to get a better look. “What is this?”

“It’s the Goddess language.”

Kuro’s head tilts. “The Goddess language?”

“Do you remember when I told the elders I knew another way to talk to my family, one that didn’t involve speech? This is it.”

Kuro’s brow furrows in contemplation. She squints but can’t make sense of what I’ve done. “You marked it like a guiding tree, but there are no guiding trees in the Farlands.”

“Well, that’s the idea. Us Farlanders have symbols like the ones you leave on the guiding trees. But instead of a few symbols, we have hundreds of them! And when we combine them, they form the words of an entire written language.”

I’ve been so caught up in the aftermath of everything that’s happened that I completely forgot I could still write a message in the Goddess language. It wasn’t until Kuro explained the guiding trees that I remembered, and in that moment, a plan formed in my head.

Kuro stares at me with a curious expression, then back toward the tree. “An entire language with guiding tree symbols...” she trails off. “So, you’re going leave a message for your family and tell them it’s you?”

“I think I can do that, but first, I need your help. When I initially transformed into a Lithan, I thought I could still speak our spoken language. But it turns out that wasn’t the case.” I still have no idea why Lithans now speak the Goddess language and ascendant animals speak nonsense. It seems I can still write the Goddess language with my claws, but how can I be sure?

Kuro inclines her head. “What do you need me to do?”

“Okay, can you see where I was marking the tree?” I point my wing forward to where I was standing.

“Yup,” she says.

“Now, on the tree. Do you see a circle?”

“Yes.”

“And, is there a little point inside of it?”

“There is.”

“Perfect!” I chirp. “Now, to the right of that symbol. There should be a straight, vertical line,” Using my wing, I draw the line in the air. “It makes kind of half-circle to the left of the line, and then to the right is a dot. At the bottom of the vertical line is another line straight to the right.”

“Mmm...” she squints and angles her head forward. “...Yes. I can see that.”

“Wonderful! Those two symbols spell, ‘Ah-sha!’ That’s how you spell my name in the Goddess language!”

What a relief. All that carving was making my claws sore! Of course, just because Kuro and I see the same thing written on the tree doesn’t mean an ascendant animal will, too. What if the same force that caused Lithans to speak the Goddess Language also affected the written language? I don’t think there’s any way to be certain unless an ascendant animal tries to read a message I write. But knowing that Kuro sees the same thing I do gives me the confidence to risk another encounter back home.

“Oh… oh, wow!” Kuro’s face brightens with wonder as she swivels her gaze between me and the tree. With a little hop, she bounds forward and approaches the trunk to examine the words up close. She raises her right wing and traces her claw over the grooves left in the bark. “Ah-Sha! I know Farlander guiding tree symbols!”

“Letters,” I smile. “And Farlanders don’t put them on trees, actually.”

“You don’t?” her head tilts. “Then, how will you contact your family? If you can’t carve a message onto a tree, then where else can you do it?”

I smile hesitantly. Try as she might, Kuro can only view the world through the primitive experiences she’s familiar with. To understand my plan once I return to Ellynyide, you need to be familiar with the politics of the moon and how the different nations view each other. How can I possibly simplify something so complicated in a way she’ll understand?

“Well,” I say, clearing my throat. “I think my biggest problem is contacting my family without scaring them half to death.”

Kuro nods thoughtfully. “Farlanders are easily terrified.”

“I belong to a powerful family in Elyntide. If I show up at my home den unannounced, my mother will freak out and tell the Farlanders who protect her to kill me. I can’t approach them directly.”

“So, if you can’t get close enough to write a message to your mom, what else can you do?”

I smile a devious, toothy grin. A small part of me has ached to admit this out loud since I changed form. “I’m going to become the scary monster Farlanders think I am. But I won’t be scaring my family or anyone in Ellyntide.”

Without warning, I leap from Kuro and bolt through the underbrush to clamber onto one of the enormous roots of the elderus. When I find myself at the top, I gaze down and declare, “I’ll terrorize our enemies!”

“Your enemies?” Kuro echoes, her eyes wide as discs. “Just who are your enemies?”

“Nortane,” I growl, my heart seething with contempt just uttering their name. “Before I transformed, my Kingdom was in a dispute over territory: a floating island, drifting conspicuously from Nortane’s lands into ours. My mother declared the island belonged to us, but Nortane wasn’t keen to give it up.”

Kuro stares at me a moment before understanding dampens her like a cold drizzle. Her expression turns grave. “Asha...”

“They sent their airship-prey to patrol the skies around the island, so we sent ours in response. Back then, nobody had ordered their airship-prey to land on the island and claim it. To do so would be seen as provocative, an act that could lead to fighting. But that was before I transformed and before a Marten, a Sable, and an Owl from Nortane killed Knight Captain Calypso Durham.”

Kuro raises an eye. “You want revenge,” she concludes. “Revenge on those who took your friend’s life. And now that you’re Kin—“

“I want to see my family,” I rebuke, bitterness overcoming my voice. “I have to see them again. But I’ll never get close as long as they believe I’m the monster who killed Princess Asha. But maybe, just maybe, If I appear as an ally against Nortane, they’ll reconsider.”

It’s not enough to write a message somewhere saying I’m the Princess. I have to be there, standing next to what I wrote, or nobody will believe a Lithan did it. But I haven’t forgotten the terror festering in the eyes of the Sifaka I encountered on the airfield in Rhl — Anyone who sees me in person will be too overcome with fear to think straight. Instead of appearing in Ellyntide without warning, I first have to rewrite the narrative on who I am and make them believe I’m more than a witless beast.

Silence stretches between us as Kuro processes everything I’ve said, our eyes locked in a deathly serious stare. Although we come from different worlds, it seems the ideas of territory and revenge are universal. Finally, she asks, “What exactly are you going to do?”

“Farlanders believe Lithans are territorial ferals, and I intend to show them one. I’m going to fly to the disputed island and roost there. If any airship-prey from Ellyntide approach, then I’ll leave them alone. But if any from Nortane do... I’ll kill them.”

“What?!” Kuro retreats a step.

My claws sink deeper into the roots. “I’ll shoot down their entire fleet if I have to. Calypso is dead because of Nortane. I don’t care how many prey I kill. And as the body count rises, Ellyntide will realize I’m leaving their prey alone. They’ll realize I’m taking sides. And that’s when I’ll compose my message to them: When they’re capable of seeing me as more than just a monster.”

Kuro shakes her head, and her eyes wander from mine to the underbrush below. “This is... trying to kill airship-prey alone is insane.”

“You know I can do it.”

“It’s too dangerous!”

“I don’t care.”

Her tail slams against the ground. “Asha, you could die!”

“I’m already dead in my family’s eyes!!”

My voice bellows across the clearing, disturbing resting flocks of birds into flight. Kuro looks equally as disturbed, causing conflicting emotions to rake my heart. She isn’t my enemy, that much I know. But why is she questioning my plan? Can’t she see this is the only way I can reunite with my family? She wouldn’t stand in my way, would she!?

Why… why won’t she...?!

I growl, forcibly trying to calm frayed nerves, but it’s no use. I stomp my talons and thrash my head about, but nothing changes. I’m breathing too fast, I’m too on edge, and my restless heart won’t relent. Seething, I force myself to meet Kuro’s gaze. “If I die attacking Nortane, then the only thing that will be lost is a single, helpless Lithan that never even belonged in Felra in the first place.”

“But you’re my friend!!”

Kuro’s face twists in horror, and her emotions can no longer be contained. Time slows as she turns and flees, disappearing around the corner of a root. In a breathless moment, all my anger and rage dissolve into nothing.

It happened again; my emotions took control of me. But this time, it wasn’t the instincts of the feral I’ve become that forced me to react with blind rage. This time it was just me — Asha. I thought Kuro was questioning me, and I thought she was objecting to the validity of my plan to reunite with my family. But I was too upset about Nortane to see what she was really concerned about:

Me. She’s upset because she doesn’t want her friend to die! Regret fills my heart that I could become so enraged at someone so close to me. I have to stop her and apologize!

I tumble from the root and practically crash into the ground below, failing to gain traction on my landing. Heaving frantic breaths, I stumble to my talons and sprint towards the root she disappeared behind.

I’m so stupid,

I’m so stupid,

I’m so fweghing stupid!

As I round the corner, I half expect to see the tips of Kuro’s tail feathers disappearing into the forest beyond the den. Instead, her spiced scent fills my nostrils once more. I flare my wings to a halt and find Kuro standing in a bed of flowers a short distance from the bend in the tree, facing away from me. Hearing my frantic approach, she slowly angles her head around. It looks like she could break out crying at any moment.

“Kuro…” I trail off, burdened by grief. How could I do this to her?!

“I know,” she whispers, her sullen expression hanging like a storm cloud. “You don’t have to tell me. Your life is in the Farlands, not here. And it’s none of my business trying to interfere in it.”

Gosh, Kuro.

I shake my head fervently. “Please, don’t blame yourself. It’s my fault.” I take a step towards her but quickly seize up. Just now, I felt an overwhelming urge to comfort her by rubbing my head against hers. But as much as we’re friends, we don’t have that sort of closeness with each other. I don’t want to worsen this situation by making her feel even more uncomfortable. I’ve already messed this up enough.

A heavy sigh escapes me. It feels like I can’t do anything right. “I got carried away... I let my anger control me again. I thought you were trying to stand in my way because everyone back home used to do that. I couldn’t fathom that someone would... care about me.” the words slip from my mouth, and I avert my eyes. Why am I having such a hard time admitting something so simple?

Kuro watches me silently, her expression unchanging. After a wordless moment, she slowly raises her head from the flowers.

“Kuro,” I sniff. “I’m sorry.”

She paces a few steps toward me, then stops and averts her eyes. A moment later, she looks back and draws a careful breath. “This… isn’t the first time you’ve become this upset?”

I shake my head. “It used to happen more when I was young. With my mentor’s help, I learned how to temper my emotions and recognize when I was losing control. But when I thought about how Calypso died and how Nortane was responsible...” my voice fades as I stare into Kuro’s face. Her expression had softened while I was talking. “Well. These past few days have been difficult, to say the least.”

“I understand what it’s like to get really upset. Like when…” her voice quickly loses strength, and she averts her eyes once more. It seems like she remembered something uncomfortable.

I decide to help her out. “Like when losers like Moth challenge you?”

She loosens a smile. “Yeah, that’s one of them.”

Our feathers relax as the tension between us begins to fade. We have far more in common than either of us realized.

“I think your plan to kill airship-prey is dangerous, but I won’t try to stop you,” Kuro pauses to gaze into the canopy above. Around us, birdsong is beginning to return. “I’m lucky my grandmother and sister are still on Jade. But if there was some way to see my parents again…”

A foul feeling spreads over my stomach as I realize Kuro’s parents are no longer living. As it turns out, she perfectly understands what I’m going through right now. Arguably, she understands it even better.

Although our situations are similar, we’re not an apples-to-apples comparison – my family, home, and cats are all still in Varecia. I may be dead in their eyes, but I can still hope to someday reunite with them. However awkward a reunion with a Lithan may be. But for Kuro, that possibility has been extinguished.

“But, Asha,” she continues, the strength in her voice restored. ”You’ve been welcomed into our flock. We may not be Ellyntide, but if something unexpected happens on your journey to reunite with your family, then... please promise me you won’t sacrifice yourself. Your life can still have meaning here, Asha.”

Something unexpected, huh? I stifle a laugh. What an ironic choice of words.

I haven’t thought a lot about what would happen if I couldn’t reunite with my family. Quite frankly, I don’t want to think about it. The only thing I want to be focused on now is my training and returning to Ellyntide as quickly as possible.

But…

“Alright,” I promise. “I won’t do anything reckless.”

My family and my commitment to the throne will always be more important than anything here. But I can at least agree not to be irresponsible while defending Ellyntide. If things turn hopeless, if it truly seems like I’ll never return home, then... I’ll think about it. I’ll consider staying in Felra for the rest of my days.

Kuro smiles. Seeing her smile gives me strength. For her, offering my safety is the least I can do.

“Friends?” she asks.

“Friends,” I smile back.