Two Lithans have a crush on me — the Princess of Ellyntide.

Faced with the moral dilemma of choosing between one, the other, or neither at all, I chose the most sensible option:

Shelving the question for now so I can answer it some other time!

The way I see it, I shouldn’t make a quick decision about Kuro and Nakino. Tomcat was right — I’m stuck here until spring no matter what, so I may as well take my time and think about this very carefully. So, that’s what I’m going to do. In the meantime, I’ll continue my search to try and learn more about why I became a Lithan. You see, my original plan post-Couple’s Night — before everything went completely insane — was to travel with Kuro to the ruins of a strange Farlander den in Loner territory. I had almost forgotten about it!

Initially, I was hesitant to make the trip. But when I told Kuro I wanted to leave the safety of the flock’s territory, she thought I had gone mad. It’s not hard to see why! With Relmoon confined strictly to Loner territory, attempting to fly there is insane. He, in no uncertain terms, wants me dead.

But the prospect of finding a building from ancient times is too enticing to pass up. I’m convinced there has to be a connection between the serpentine diamond, my transformation, and ancient Animals in Felra. And if I can learn about that connection, then maybe I can find a way to change back to normal. Flying to Loner territory is risky, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

And if I discover that reason but decide to take a mate and remain a Dragon? Well… at least I’ll have some closure on the biggest event of my life.

It took some convincing, but eventually, Kuro agreed to lead me to the Farlander den. A low and satisfying growl grew from her chest as I reminded her that, as a Loner, Relmoon was no longer under the flock’s protection. If we encountered the crimson drakon somewhere on our journey, Kuro was free to deal with him as she pleased.

Us two versus Relmoon? For everything he’s done to hurt me and Kuro, that’s a fight I’m ready to jump into. This may be the Lithan side of me speaking, but I’d quite like to taste his flesh again.

Of course, flying somewhere with Kuro means we’ll be denning with each other again.

Again, you ask? Well, ever since I found out she has romantic feelings for me, I’ve become a bit… averse to her presence. Neither Dragon was thrilled to hear it, but I asked Kuro and Nakino to let me sleep alone at night. It’s lonely in my den at the Grandfather tree… I miss sleeping beside Kuro. But I want to understand my feelings for Nakino without any pressure.

But now that we’re on our way to loner territory, I can’t escape Kuro’s courtship maneuvers and casual hint-dropping. I asked Nakino to fly with us, but it’s too risky for the Grandfather Tree’s healer to leave in the middle of frostwing… especially when he’s still caring for the two ill Kin who appeared in his den the other day. I wish I could be more fair to him, I really do. But if I want to discover why I became a Lithan, then it’s unavoidable — Kuro and I have to spend time together.

Under the cover of heavy snowfall, we left the Grandfather Tree early this morning and flew south. We traveled the icy skies until reaching the ledge of the continent, then banked left to catch the strong gales blowing off the strait. After stopping to mark the last guiding tree, we crossed the invisible scent line and arrived in Loner territory.

It’s not a great deal different here — the smells are the same, and the trees appear identical. But compared to the flock’s land, it’s downright silent. I haven’t heard a single long-range Dragon call since we crossed! According to Kuro, it’s because Loners are slowly driven mad without the guidance of the flock. She seemed chipper as she explained how they live in isolation, only venturing from their dens to hunt.

It sounds like a certain Dragon will have a rough time here. What a shame!

Kuro's neck feathers perk as we pass through a dry cloud bank. “There,” she announces, flicking her ears toward the bottom of a snow-free valley. “That’s the Farlander den.”

I gasp when I see it — tangled between an unending canopy of mottled green is the unmistakable outline of a rectangular, flat-topped roof. Half-collapsed and covered in a blanket of dried moss, it appears to be constructed from the same stones we saw in the Great Valley, albeit on a much grander scale. Based on the size of the redwoods surrounding it, the building must be at least three stories tall! As we descend to land, my excitement peaks. Dragons have groomed a makeshift clearing near the front of the building, and there appears to be an entrance large enough for a Dragon to slip through.

Wait a second. Large enough for a Dragon? This building was designed for Dragons to use?!

But how can that be!? Setting aside the question of how ancient Animals arrived in Felra, there’s never been a time in history when Dragons weren’t at serious odds with ascendant Animals. And yet, the design of the building suggests that not only did they live on the same continent, but there was also cooperation among them! My mind buzzes like a beehive at the implications of this astounding discovery. Were Lemurs and Martens friends with Dragons once upon a time? What ended their friendship? We haven’t even landed yet, but we’re already making discoveries!

We glide down and navigate a cramped landing, nearly clipping the tips of our wings against the bare branches of a stunted redwood. Dragons have groomed the clearing, though not as cleanly as those in the flock’s territory. As dirt is lofted skyward, my hind talons touch the ground, but the front talons unexpectedly contact an invisible boulder camouflaged against the underbrush. I stumble forward slightly but allow my talon to slip off the boulder and keep myself upright.

The ancient building looms over us like the elders atop the gathering stone, seemingly taller from the ground than it appears in the air. Large chunks of stone have been weathered from the once ornate facade, leaving behind a disparate patchwork of yawning chasms and heaps of rubble. Hanging moss covers everything the light touches, and a tangle of vines sag from the trees to cover the building like a bed sheet draped over a chair.

“Honestly,” I say, taking in the cathedral of nature and stone. “You thought all of this was natural?”

Kuro gives me an irritated look, and I can’t help but laugh. A moment later, her irritation dissolves, and she smiles back.

We step through the underbrush, carefully making our way around the invisible boulders and through the tall thickets. As we trace around a large oshbush, the entrance of the building comes into focus. Two large redwoods have fallen at its base, blocking all but the very highest reaches.

“Skunkscent,” Kuro grumbles. “Those trees weren’t here last time. We’ll have to climb over them to get inside.”

Oh, that’s…

Hmm. No, this just won’t do!

Before she can take one step further, I ask, “Kuro, can we talk for a moment?”

“Hm?” Kuro’s feathers perk, and she swivels around to face me. “What is it, Asha?”

“Well, It’s about your curse words.”

“My what?”

“You know, whenever you say ‘skunkscent,’ or ‘featherbrain.’ Kuro, they’re not very good.”

Slowly, her head tilts sideways. “I don’t understand.”

“Look,” I say, stepping in front of the oshbush. “What I’m trying to say is you should expand your repertoire. If you’re gonna visit a Farlander den with me — a Farlander — then you should play the part and learn how to use some Farlander curse words!”

Kuro’s feathers relax, and she raises a coy smirk.

“I-I’m being serious!” I stumble. “Okay, look. Instead of saying ‘skunkscent,’ try saying, ‘fwegh.’”

Kuro stares at me a moment longer before shrugging her wings. She swivels her gaze forward, straightens her neck, and speaks slowly.

“…Fwegh.”

“Perfect!” I exclaim, bouncing on my talons and fluttering my wings. “Fwegh is one of my favorites, I use it all the time!”

Kuro glances away, but not before I catch a smile loosening across her muzzle. Oh, don’t be bashful! I know how much you like me, Kuro. You’re allowed to show it! And quite frankly, I would prefer it that you did. You’ve never been forthright about your feelings for me, and I wish I knew why.

“There’s more!” I say, refusing her the opportunity to avoid me. “The next time you see someone acting featherbrained, you should call them a ‘bitch’ instead.”

Kuro’s eyes narrow to slits — this time, she’s determined to please me. She gazes forward, sticks her neck out, and rasps in the most eloquent voice I’ve ever heard,

Pbbfffttt…!

SKEE SKEE SKREE!!!

I squawk like a Parrot and nearly fall over sideways with laughter. The way she said it was… she sounded like a noble! Like a super arrogant one, trying to imitate the way the filthy commoners… oh, Goddess!!

“Kuro!” I gasp, my head reeling from laughter. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Kuro. But you have no idea how funny that was!”

I raise my head from the side of my body and find Kuro staring at me with a soft expression. Instead of being angry or upset, she just seems… happy. “I like how bitch sounds,” she smiles. “I’ll try out that one. For you.”

“Thank you!” I say, ruffling my feathers in satisfaction. If nothing else, I taught Kuro something new today!

We continue across the chilled forest towards the obstructed entrance of the building, stepping over thickets of raven's thistle and boulders as we go. As we reach the first of the downed trees, Kuro leaps forward and clambers onto the top of the trunk, flaring her wings as she scales it with effortless grace. As she does, I catch myself… watching. Staring at her hind legs.

They look awfully powerful.

Is… this what Tomcat was talking about? I mean, I guess I just never noticed Kuro’s legs before. Until now. And, um, I already know how good they are at breaking the necks of prey. They’re really good at that. So, why do they—

“Asha?” Kuro asks.

My heart barrels against my chest. “Eep!”

She caught me!! I was so fixated on her legs that I didn’t even notice her climb to the second trunk! Quickly, I scale the fell trees and join her at the top.

“Sorry,” I murmur, giving my chest a quick preen.

“What were you… you know what, it’s fine,” Kuro says without a hint of malice. “Come on, let’s enter the den!”

As she turns to crouch into the opening of the building, I bury my muzzle further into my chest feathers. She knows. She totally knows what I was doing! So why is she brushing it off like it didn’t happen? Kuro has a crush on me. Wouldn’t she like it if I stared at her body? I decide to shelve the thought for now and follow after Kuro.

A gentle breeze blows outwards from the interior of the building, bringing with it the stale scents of Dragons. As Kuro wedges between the fallen redwood and the top of the entrance, I strain to look past her and get a taste of what awaits us. Shafts of dim light shine through holes in the roof, revealing a stone room overgrown with knee-high shrubs and large, stunted trees. Nature has taken its course inside the building as much as it has on the outside. If any furnishings were left behind, they’ve long since withered to dust.

Kuro disappears inside with myself close behind. As we land against the eroded cobblestone floor, something strange catches my eye — light from the outside, reflecting off the branches of a cypress tree. As my eyes adjust to the darkened room, I take a half-step forward and realize that the source of the reflection is a stone structure in the center of the room.

“Whoa…” My breath is stolen as I approach the mystery object. “Is this…?”

Behind the withered branches of the cypress is a pane of glass, enclosed in a thick frame of stone and erected to roughly the height of Lithan’s head. Dirt and debris surround the strange window, giving the objects on the opposite side a hazy, sand-stained appearance. This glass must be centuries old, yet it’s completely intact!

“I don’t believe it!” I exclaim, pushing past a branch to examine the ancient window up close. “How has this not shattered?!”

Kuro approaches me from behind and asks, “Asha, what is this?”

“It’s something Farlanders make called ‘glass’,” I explain. “It’s like a rock that you can see through!”

I brush my wing against the ancient window, then turn and nod for Kuro to do the same. Cautiously, she draws the tips of her flight feathers against the glass, imparting a line in the dust as she does.

Kuro’s face twists in confusion. “What the…”

“I know, right?!” I can’t help but chuckle at her response. “Farlanders make this stuff all the time. It’s very common.”

Kuro glances at me disbelievingly. She steps around to the opposite side and squints to stare through the glass.

“I can see the entrance of the den!” she says, aghast.

What an innocent response. Kuro’s like a small child, leaving her house to discover the world for the very first time. What’s it like to be astonished by such mundane objects? Though I suppose a pane of glass that’s survived for centuries is anything but mundane.

“Why don’t you check this out while I explore the room?” I say.

Kuro allows her feathers to relax and nods slowly. I have a feeling she’s going to be enamored for a while.

I step away from Kuro and glance around the room. This building, whatever it was designed for, was clearly intended for Dragons and Animals to use together. The room we’re in now appears to be roughly the size of the royal garden — multiple Dragons could fit in here quite comfortably. What did they use this space for? Could this have been some kind of reception hall for Dragons and Animals to work together? What’s the significance of the window in the middle of the room?

I approach the wall closest to me and tear away a patch of clawvine growing up the side of it. Could the ancient Animals that lived here have left behind inscriptions? It’s known that the Goddess Language has existed for centuries, though for precisely how long, I’m not sure. Sofl was much more into languages than I was. But if there’s Goddess script carved into the walls, then that could give us—

RAARR!!

A terrified roar splits the room like a crack of thunder. My neck whips about to face the source of the cry, and my blood freezes. Kuro is standing on the opposite side of the ancient window, gazing through it with her muzzle agape. The terror painted on her face makes it seem like she saw a ghost.

“Kuro?!” I shriek in vehement concern. For some reason, she’s gazing at my talons.

“A-A-Asha…?!” her voice trembles and her feathers shiver.

“Kuro, what’s wrong?”