—Orion—

  "Especially about the creature you call a dragon. And, the nature of that collar." Icaro stated. I felt certain that his intent was to degrade Sally one more time.

  I tensed when he brought up Sally's species again, both uneasy about the prospect of confronting the aggressive man and excited to be able to protect the dragonling. Even I understood that defending someone was an effective way to garner affection from… someone. An easy way to declare which side you were on, and who you feel closer to.

  "Whilst I am simply unable to understand why you would masquerade in such a dangerous form, I have heard of only one creature brazen—or suicidal—enough to do so. Your collar was the final clue I needed to nail down your true nature." Icaro monologued. While it was not negative enough for me to feel confident in interceding the conversation, it did not feel… it wasn't a friendly discussion either.

  "You're a Fey, A Thing. But of what, I do not know." He declared confidently. I watched Sally carefully while keeping a mental finger on the pulse of [Animal Companionship], waiting for any sensations that may suggest that Sally found the accusation uncomfortable. After all, the dragon would know much better than I if what Icaro said was meant to be insulting.

  "Wh-wha-at's a F-hey?" Sally asked back, his voice was hoarse and sounded forced. Icaro initially leaned backwards in response, and the older man observed Sally with an analytical eye. I recognised the pattern of glancing, how his eyes squinted and darted about while searching his body for any signs of deceit were familiar. He then reached into a nearby satchel, and pulled out an old dilapidated book, and thumbed through its yellow pages until he found the one he was looking for.

  " ‘Fey’ is the moniker for a creature not born of womb nor egg. Completely unique, with no parents, siblings, or children that share its traits. They resemble and embody concepts and ideas far more often than the things of the physical plane.

  "There are Things of nature, sprites and Little-Men, with essences of branch and leaf that represent each aspect of a forest's Order. Borne of thought are Things wrought from Chaos and desire, from hunger, lust, and laziness, but self-sacrifice, gift-giving, and song as well.

  "There are countless Fey, but all except the most intolerable were bound within their courts. Only a select few the Sun had need for were allowed to roam." Icaro read.

  An interesting species of creatures, and the most clear summary of a magical creature I’d received since arriving in the world. While vague, it was clear and straight forward enough for me to understand what it meant. An explanation that I preferred far more than the alternative.

  "The matching eyes you both share are one of the clearest signs of Fey-touch one can have. And the markings on that stone pendant, an ancestor of mine had… a close encounter with another who had a nigh-identical necklace, though with somewhat different markings." He turned the thin book around to show us a highly detailed sketch of a woman’s upper torso, it showed an extremely furry neck down to the upper parts of the breast. Resting on the skin in between was a necklace that looked identical to the one Sally originally found in the cesspit, from before it was changed by Sally’s [Attunement] with it.

  A sudden burst of restless discomfort from Sally and I glanced away from the diagram to see his tail waving erratically—twitching with large bursts of movement. It took a moment to realise that the body language was how he… cringed I guess. Off-put.

  I mentally noted the unique expression of Sally’s body as Icaro closed the book on his final word, and slipped the thin tome back into his bag. I glanced at the antsy dragon as the Medicine-Man turned to put his book away, and he gave me a shrug when he noticed my stare. Ignoring the discomfort Sally felt when looking at that diagram, he seemed… almost fine with being mistaken as a Fey. I suppose if it was much more believable for Sally to be a Fey-Thing than a dragon, it was much better for his safety.

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  "Why do you think it's impossible for Sally to be a dragon?" I couldn't help but ask. While he had come up with a reasonable alternative—however wrong it might be—why did he never consider the first option?

  "…?! You truly don't know? I wasn't aware that people had begun to forget the stories. I must be getting old." He chuffed, laughing at us. I didn't understand what he found funny.

  "It's rather simple you see. They are all dead. Exterminated by the Sun god." Icaro flippantly explained. I vaguely felt Sally's distress, but I was too shocked by the revelation myself to do anything.

  "I think some of them didn't want to pull his chariot. That act of defiance was enough for him to hunt them down one by one, and seal all of their souls in a jar. He is nothing if not petty." The Medicine-Man continued, either uncaring or unnoticing of Sally's distress.

  "So forgive me for not believing your claim of being a juvenile from a race that was—and to a degree still is being—hunted to extinction. A newborn that is wandering the earth, telling all who would hear, that he is a dragon."

  I… could not blame him for being doubtful of Sally's claim then.

  But what was far more important than the revelation of the extermination of Sally's species, was the agitation and dread the dragonling was feeling. Perhaps he didn't notice the positive side of Icaro's statement?

  "If people look at you, and don't think you're a dragon, then won't you be safer?" I pointed out, and Sally's mood flipped completely—but not how I hoped. He looked at me with what I hoped was a smile, but [Animal Companionship] told me that it was more of a threat. I hastily stopped talking before I could annoy Sally more. At the moment it felt so easy to accidentally anger him without knowing why—or how—I did so.

  "What ab-hout tomorrow?" Sally changed the subject. Icaro nodded, and then turned to me.

  "This creature… While it does ring a bell, I do not recognise the name 'Wendigo'. What sort of beast is it?" Icaro asked, and I did my best to remember the [Appraisal] result Sally had achieved.

  "I do not know much, other than what I've seen in person, of its incredibly fast growth, human-like intelligence and body. It appeared to be sensitive to sunlight, and prefers humans over any other sort of prey. We also… heard of a vague myth pertaining to the origins of the monsters, that it isn’t a natural born beast." I summarised, the information causing the Medicine-Man's brows to furrow as he thought about something intensely.

  "Wendigo… Where have I?… Wendigo Fever?!" He eventually put together after some muttering. He snatched the same book as before out of his bag, flipping through an amount of pages that should be impossible for such a small book.

  "Wendigo Fever; an ancient poison. Possibly comes from the Thing of poison, found most often in those on the brink of starvation. Affects the mind in strange ways. Not seen since the stitching…

  That’s… all that had been written on the subject." Icaro quoted, sounding frustrated with the book's lack of detail.

  "It is very rare for my predecessors to have not bothered to record more than a sentence about a subject. Though, I suppose it is just my luck for an affliction from thousands of years ago to reappear in these strange times." Icaro muttered.

  "But I suppose that it's fortunate that it is a poison, as that is something I can cure at the very least." The Medicine-Man declared in a more even cadence. He moved towards a different bag, pulling out of it small pouches and vials of colourful dusts, leaves, and liquids.

  He placed some ingredients into a pestle and mortar, grinding them up into a fine paste. Once they were reduced to a fine powder, he poured a dollop of a pungent liquid into the bowl and mixed thoroughly. The mix’s smell was an unnerving odour that reminded me of nature in both a comforting and eerie way.

  The scent reminded me of decaying leaves on a forest floor, rotting seaweed on a sandy shore, and fresh snow on an alpine plain. All familiar and identical to the real things, but it was disconcerting smelling them all from the same mix of herbs.

  "What does that do?" I couldn't help but ask.

  "Now you’re beginning to sound like Aylin." He chuckled, pausing his movements to smell his concoction. He then scraped it into a metal dish and placed it over the campfire's coals.

  "While I may not be a hunter, I can count the illnesses that I have not treated on one hand, and there are even less medicines I cannot make to perfection. I know of one remedy that is effective for the symptoms of most unnatural poxes, doubly so for those that pervert the natural Order of things.

  "While it will not cure them, it does soothe and weaken the effects. It should incapacitate a creature borne of this ‘wendigo fever’, and allow us to end its suffering… one way or another." Icaro finished explaining. But I was confused by his sudden change in attitude. What had made him completely believe our story? Especially after his initial suspicions about our trustworthiness. I didn't understand what had changed his mind.

  "Why do you trust us now? Share your campsite?" I asked. Father did not teach me much about interacting with people, but he was always vocal about the ways one may betray you. Sleeping in the wilderness with a dangerous character nearby was always something he warned of.

  "Ah? Oh no, while I did find you and your… companion suspicious, your story has details that I find hard to imagine you could have learnt through other means. Your bow, story, and knowledge of a poison that only the most learnt would be aware of would be difficult to fake. Also, Aylin says that you are trustworthy, which is enough for me to be—almost—certain that you won’t kill and rob me while I sleep. While I do want to eke out every detail of history, I won’t be able to handle the creature you’ve described alone.” The Medicine-Man sighed as poked the quickly thickening paste with a stick.

  “Though … perhaps it’s just my age mellowing my wits, but it feels like fate has had a cruel sense of humour recently. And coming home from looking for a cure for our current miseries, only to find something even worse is the kind of joke it’d play on me." Icaro chuckled as he pulled the paste that'd been cooked into a hard flaky cake out of the fire.

  "Isn't it d-ahngerous out here?" Sally asked, and Icaro gave him a… furrowed look. Suspicion?

  "The townspeople said that people were going missing in the forest. We haven't noticed anything chasing us, but we did find a clearing of skeletons, very old ones." I elaborated, guessing that Icaro was looking for more context.

  "I thought you would know little spirit. But what has happened to the forest is strange enough to possibly be beyond a Little-Man’s senses." Icaro asked, seemingly ignoring my explanation.

  "Well, I do not know what has begun to lurk between these ancient trees, but most except a small few disappear inside this forest. Myself—obviously—Orion, and Aylin. I had not planned on risking her life on a gamble, but for your sake, be glad the forest has not snatched her.

  I learnt of my own immunity to the forest’s curse by accident. When I went to go visit my old friend Pasiphae and was told that everyone who’s entered had disappeared permanently, that it wasn’t just our village’s hunters to… die without a trace.” Icaro grunted as he tried to pry the thin circle out of the dish he was holding, he then stopped and laid it flat on the log beside him.

  “But the Divian forests are typically harmless to me, as the beasts avoid my campsites because of my incense." He continued, gesturing at a pungent, smoking stick of incense he'd stuck into the ground while putting up the tent. Icaro grabbed a knife out of a bag and used it to pry his hardened puck out of its pan.

  "But there is something… etching the roots." He continued, gesturing the ground around us, which had a number of exposed wooden tendrils. I looked up at him, unsure as to what was wrong with the roots.

  "Is there something living in the roots?" I couldn't help but ask. I didn't want to seem unreliable to Sally with all of the gaps in my knowledge, but I was worried about what sort of parasite could be living inside the trees.

  "No. You have not been in this area before, have you?" I nodded. "These roots are usually beneath the soil. But one day, they just began to appear above the grass, not long before the disappearance of the hunters. It was not a gradual pattern of growth either, I simply left my home one morning, and the roots were there, fully grown." Icaro explained, making me feel extremely wary of the ground around me.

  But his words reminded me of the area we had found the bones in, the skeletons… were they not surrounded by exposed roots?

  "There were some bones we found engulfed by trees. While the site wasn’t recent enough to be linked to the disappearances, it did have an unusual amount of roots around them. Another notable thing about it was this item on one of the corpses." I remembered as I pulled out the copper pendant I had found. I handed Icaro the oily metal and the Medicine-Man paused what he was doing to inspect it, holding it up so it would glimmer in the firelight.

  "This is… This belonged to a friend." He murmured as he tucked it away into a bag. "What… what happened to him?"

  "I do not know. The bones were old by the time I found them, and didn't have any marks alluding to the cause of death.

  "Old? How old?"

  "Years." I answered the best I could. His mouth fell open in what I could only consider shock.

  "He was alive when I left. It has only been weeks since I last saw his face." Icaro elaborated. A shiver went down my spine as I realised that there was something much stranger than a Wendigo in the area.

  "… Fate. Why must you be so cruel?…” The Medicine-Man whispered to himself, my ears barely picking up his words.

  “But I would not fret about the curse now. We were not at risk before, so do not worry about one more night out here. At least until we deal with the threat we can actually fight." Icaro attempted to reassure us. It did not succeed.

  The fire burned itself to just embers as the night descended in full, the forest filled with a chilly breeze. Icaro began to pack away his tools with practised efficiency, movements slowed not by age, but by his willingness to idly chat while doing so. He gave his pungent creation one final glance, and was seemingly satisfied as he tucked it into a sealed pouch on his belt.

  “I will join Aylin now.” he announced, standing and stretching his back with a soft grunt. “The morning will be… eventful. So sleep well.”

  He did not elaborate further as he slipped into the tent, his joints cracking as he ducked underneath the shifting fabric.

  The fire popped softly, the embers glowing like dull stars before they quickly faded. Painfully familiar to the ones missing from the sky above.

  The silence went on for a while, both Sally and I quiet as the embers eventually extinguished themselves, leaving the both of us in comfortable darkness. But the cold that was beginning to creep in was much worse. Especially for Sally.

  He did not look well, and the bond said the same.

  "Did you want me to restart the fire?" I offered to the dragonling, and received no reply other than a look at the tent. It would be warm, and a good shelter for the wind.

  "Would you rather sleep inside the tent?" I asked, and Sally quickly nodded. But he didn't move towards it just yet, instead staying on his haunches and looking towards me with one, large eye.

  "I'm fine sleeping rough, it-" "-You going to e-hat that?" He interrupted me, correcting my assumption that he was looking at me with sympathy. I glanced at my bowl, a few slivers of meat still left at the bottom.

  "Sure." I said, passing the bowl towards him as I moved to organise a place to sleep. It would not be comfortable, but I could make it less painful for myself in the morning.

  Sally gulped down the last chunks of meat and slipped into the tent. As I was left outside, in the cold, I couldn't help but feel disappointed, even though he owed me nothing. Not even sympathy.