The breeze was gentle against the treetops, small leaves fell from their perch off grand branches as the arboreal titans surrounding us prepared for the coming winter.

  There was already a slight chill in the air. Light, but noticeable to the mortals that called this world their home. I always liked winter, they were times of stories and shared warmth, huddled together by the blazing fire. Every night was a battle against the cold, but we fought together, as a family.

  During the day I’d keep warm through heavy exertion by the forge, it was actually the impetus of my passion for smithing. In that way I was lucky to be a blacksmith’s daughter, my home always got the first pick of firewood, because it was needed to service the village.

  Plenty of fools showed their animosity in petty ways for the privilege. Mostly through conversation that I had no patience for, little jabs that earned them a proper jab. They learned quickly that I responded better to violence, and the vigil had to put a stop to our…friendly spars.

  I maintained that I kicked their asses more often then not, fuckers didn’t even know how to fight. Maybe if they did they’d be alive, but that wasn’t really worth consideration now was it? It was autumn, and the winds brought in the expected chill to torture the mortals below, forcing habits to break in favour of practicality. I always wondered how winter would look in the big cities.

  Autumn was harvest season for the farmers, so during winters there was a whole lot of jack shit to do for most of the village. We’d gather in our homes and share warm stew and pleasant conversation on the year's events, often the same told from different perspectives, or filtered down through so many mouths that it didn’t even resemble its origin.

  Here? Well, it was still harvest season, soon the Reudenmire festival would overtake the city as a testament to that, but otherwise most hadn’t changed. The architecture here allowed for a more holistic heating system than a simple fire, imbued with magic and mundanity alike by the myriad of city patrons. The rich likely had their methods that outmatched anything the populace could hope to entertain, but even the lowest had a way of keeping warm.

  In a way it was both luxurious and void compared to my village. I didn’t have my parents anymore, but I wouldn’t need them to keep warm. I…should visit them sometime, once I learned how to read a map. It was on the docket for things that Aira planned on teaching me. She’s made a whole list of cerebral tasks for me to commit to once winter came, since the monsters either hibernate or…wake up.

  Winter was the time most wendigo's prowled, alongside other horrors, and no one was brave enough to travel or hunt without significant protection.

  But it wasn’t winter, not yet, it was still autumn.

  Autumn, for hunters, meant an abundance of monsters.

  No one knew why the season was so ripe with the creatures, only that they were most active and agitated during this time. Some theorized that it was the season of chaos, where the godlings of the heavens expressed themselves through the actions of their blessings to impress their parent deities. Others believed that the season simply demanded activity in preparation for a deep sleep or migration.

  To some it was a blessing, to others a curse, to me? Well, it meant Loklan and Aira would finally let me hunt by their side.

  Blessing or curse? Hard to tell.

  I was leaning towards curse, considering how many nights I’d had to camp out in this bug-ridden forest. I only had a small stint with homelessness between my village and Anik, where I roved and didn’t really care for much of anything. I wonder how I managed to attain such transcendent levels of apathy, and if I might’ve been capable of channeling that into my current predicament.

  Stolen story; please report.

  So far my testing had led to lackluster results, but at least I had plenty of time to train my magic while we searched for a diod. Big fuckers, and fairly peacful, but their parts were too valuable for capable hunters to ignore. I didn’t know how to feel about that.

  So long as I got stronger, did it really matter?

  That didn’t seem right, everything should have limits. Even in desperate circumstances, else I’d find myself with lost sanity or empty morals. I didn’t know which one would be worse but…I pushed forward anyway.

  If I lost my sanity then I could work on piecing it back together after I survived. If I lost my morals…I didn’t know, I hoped it wouldn't reach that point. Naivety was a thin blanket for the harshness of reality though. I just had to keep myself accountable, shouldn’t be too hard right?

  The fact I was even worrying about the subject should’ve said something about my willingness to not be a shit. Or maybe that was just the conceit talking.

  Was I willing to go so far that the question would be relevant?

  Who knows. Who knows.

  The smell of nature was a pleasant backdrop alongside the ambient noise, earthy and wet, it rained earlier in the morning. We trekked through it with little care, leather boots stepping on wet grass and occasionally mud. One time I stepped in shit so there was that. It was a fun gaff for the rest of the group, though it unfortunately belonged to a deer, so not our quarry. Not that I’d be blind enough to step in Diod shit, despite the teasing of my fellows.

  Fucking cunts.

  They were quiet as we hunted, following a trail all slow and careful. This wasn’t like hunting animals, where it was more a test of endurance than stealth. Here any advantage was prized, and monsters would’t give you the courtesy of bringing themselves to exhaustion until you could stab them through the heart. In this way hunting was more of what I imagined in my head, tracking and careful motions. We had bows strapped over our shoulders, not that I knew how to use one.

  I wondered how dense the population of animals was here compared to my old world if it was so easy to find one? Not that I could test that, just an idle fancy.

  There was a whistle, short and clipped, ahead of our train of bodies. A signal to stop, or something else, I didn’t know. All that mattered was that Loklan was signaling, which meant he thought the monster was close. I followed the example of Aira, Xae, and the other two whose names I kept forgetting.

  To be fair, they made it a point to avoid me, so it wasn't like I felt any guilt over the matter.

  Like I assumed, everyone stopped. Loklan gave Aira a look and the woman walked over slowly beside him. Careful not to disturb the ambiance of the forest. The elk-man whispered into her ear, something that she nodded to and proceeded to unshoulder her bow. My heart rate picked up a bit as my teacher stared at something I couldn't see. She drew the bowstring quick after observing for a while, then let the arrow fly.

  There was a beat of silence.

  Then, a wail overtook the forest, one joined by another. Like grief filtered down to its purest form, bare of any emotion. It strummed a chord in my soul, a deep thing that shook my very being. I could see the face of my father, so stern as he watched me tinker in his craft. I felt the kiss of my mother, gentle on my forehead.

  Jiso’s banter was somewhere in the wind alongside Uria’s practical remarks, and I could see the hustle of villagers as they passed me by like wraiths. I could smell the iron tang of blood as I struggled against so many, fighting to an end that would never come.

  There were tears streaming down my face I realized, as well as that of the scarred hunter and Xae.

  Aira walked next to me and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Aves Lugentes. Mourning birds. A rare creature.”

  “What-” I choked a sob. “What was that?”

  “A call from the past,” Aira said as she pulled me into a hug. “They take all things unresolved and remind us. There is no hiding from them, only a wave we must endure.”

  “Pain in the ass is what they are,” Loklan grunted.

  The scarred hunter shot him a glare as he wiped his tears. “They are sacred.”

  “And valuable, as a hunter, which do you find more appealing?”

  The scarred hunter didn’t answer, looking shamefaced to the dirt.

  Loklan snorted. “That’s what I thought. Come now, this quarry should be enough for the festival. We can show you two the ropes some other time.”

  I nodded numbly, not willing to argue with the man. Still in shock from the overwhelming emotion that coursed through my body, so much so that I almost missed the porcelain hand that tried to crush my skull.