Don't Forget Little Bird

PROLOGUE

How spiteful cold can be.

When it sinks its claws deep into bones, piercing every fiber of your being until a certain point comes along and there’s nothing left. That’s when you realize the cold meant you were still alive.

My eyes are open. I know this solely by the frigid water that presses up against them. It pushes against me and yet I see nothing, hear nothing. Just a quiet black. The seemingly never-ending darkness was the worst of it. I’m weightless and I can’t see and it’s so quiet. It’s deafening. Makes you wonder if there were sounds before this.

Far too slowly I realize… I’m drowning.

Like a switch was flipped, I start thrashing. The water burns as it snakes its way inside my lungs and my body begs for air, but which way is up? Kicking my legs just sends me careening in a circle and mortality is a cycle that looks to be near its end. Whichever way I swim, an invisible current has other plans for me. Not quite yet… It seems to taunt me, I’m not done with you yet.

I can’t tell how much time has passed, but it feels like I’ve been under the surface for eternity, frantic for a finale that doesn’t come. Some part of me knows I’ve been here before, but who could think about something like that when you’re drowning?

I scream and scream, but my voice is washed away with a tide that steals the breath right from my lungs, and the water around is so achingly cold. I kick and scream, my arms frantically reaching, grasping at life that trickles through my fingers, and I know deep in my heart, deep in this abyss, that this is it.

Until, against all odds, I feel something solid. In this sea, that was sure to be my tomb, there’s something drowning with me. I grab on with the desperation of someone with nothing to lose, of someone whose life depends on it. It’s hard and immovable, the jagged edges of a lifeline that cut at my arms and chest as I climb up my savior. A simple, solid rock, that has become my hero. I break through the surface and take in what feels like my very first taste of oxygen. It’s intoxicating.

Thunderous clouds rage above, spewing out a torrent of rain, and a roaring sea sloshes around me, unforgivingly relentless in its war against my tired body. Its current pulls me under again and tries to drag me away, but I’ve tasted the air above and will not part with my new friend so easily. I grapple for the uneven stone and my nails dig in deep, the pain and blood of no consequence to me now. It’s fascinating how quickly your priorities change when you’re walking the fine line between life and, well, whatever lies beyond.

Bursting out of the water I climb higher on shaky hands. I’m alive. I’m alive, and I refuse to let this sea change that. Yet looking out at the shore of the beach, seemingly miles away, without a soul in sight, my newfound hope, which was so fragile to begin with, crumbles. My ears are roaring along with the waves, and the heart that somehow still beats in my chest, wavers.

This can’t be it.

That voice sounded strange to me, a muffled whisper carried on a rabid wind. That voice was silenced before, below the surface… It will not be silenced again.

Help.

Please!

HELP ME!

~~~~~~~

The scream is fresh on Riley's lips, the remnants of salt on the tip of her tongue as she wakes in her makeshift bed. Shivering with the memory of frigid water and burning inside from the bone-wrenching fear of being so close to death's door, her breathing comes out ragged, in gasps, greedily gulping down air. Slicked in a cold sweat, she uses the shirt off her back to wipe off as much as she can before tossing it aside, and falling back against the pillow.

Riley presses a hand to her chest, willing the pounding to subside.

It was nearly 7 years ago Rils. The past is beyond you. Do not let it control you.

Three deep breaths and the roaring of her heart seems placated. At least for now.

It wasn’t the first time she’d said these words to herself in the dead of night, far from it actually. She visits those waters almost every time she closes her eyes, they drag her to their depths and she claws her way out. A constant ritual she seems unable to break.

The scent of pine and moss fills her nose as she breathes deeply, trying desperately to release the tension of the dream. The hard ground beneath the tattered blankets does little to ease the aches in her back, but it is a comfort in its familiarity. Those pebbles make grooves in her skin and leave marks on her side after a restless night of tossing and turning, but it means that she’s here and not resting endlessly at the bottom of the sea.

She peaks outside the flap of her tent to the clear night sky blossoming with stars, and a silent watchful moon. The trees that surround the campsite drift lazily with the light breeze and the grass fades into a rocky shore before it meets the lapping waves, the water kissing its edges with gentle caresses.

Her gaze drifts to the cliffs off in the distance, topped with their treacherous mountains that climb too high, far taller than any of the mountains on this side of the shore. Their snow-capped peaks seem to reach into the heavens, and Riley knew firsthand how far that drop was. Those cliffs were the last thing she remembered before the accident. The wind brushed up against her and the feeling of weightlessness made her giddy. Up there in the clouds were some of the happiest moments of Riley's life. Then, in an instant, all of that joy was gone. As she hurtled towards the rock-solid surface of the water, and it rushed up to greet her, the world shifted on its axis, and it hasn’t righted since.

That was the first day Riley felt real terror. She wasn’t afraid of the fall. Heights never scared her, she felt like a bird that belonged in the sky. The water was a different story.

Colliding into that sea, the one not 10 meters from her now, and then resurfacing, finally being rescued, thinking she had survived the worst hand she’d be dealt in this sorry life. Even then, she didn’t yet know what real horror was.

How foolishly naive that young girl had been, that day breaking through the surface had been a rebirth. The old Riley, full of optimism and light, had truly died down in those icy depths because the world that awaited her on the other side had been forever changed.

They said it was a miracle she hadn’t died, from the impact of the fall, the storm that swept the area so suddenly it was almost like magic. That’s what everyone kept repeating over and over; “it’s a miracle that you survived.”

Didn’t feel like much of a blessing in the years that followed.

CHAPTER ONE

The morning chill swept through on the wind, the forest floor covered in moss and dew. The birds were just waking up and their songs filled the towering trees that covered the expanse of these mountain ranges.

Breathing in the crisp air of spring, cool and earthy as it travels through Riley’s nose and settles deep in her lungs. Following a long winter, it was a welcome feeling after months of the bitter, lifeless cold these mountains endure.

A twig snapped and Riley’s eyes darted below, scanning the expanse of the forest floor. Perched on the sturdy branch of what had to be a hundred-year-old maple tree, the woods were laid before her, and while the leaves had not yet sprung to offer any cover, she knew how to keep herself hidden.

A sliver of grey caught Riley’s eye as it darted between trees and she felt a focused calm settle over her. The breath that had been coming out in puffs ceased, as she notched one of her arrows into her rugged bow. It was a simple design, but effective, and Gods only know she has plenty of time to sand and polish it to perfection. The cool wood pressed against her hand as the string dug into her finger, pulling it tight. Her heartbeat slowed, thoughts melting away as if there was only this moment, only the mark.

The air snapped back in her face from the release of the string and Riley was immediately in motion. Scurrying down the tree, using the maze of interlocking branches to make her descent, she noticed a blur of black fur shooting through the woods to her right and it forced her to race over the fallen logs and ancient roots of trees all the faster.

In a flash, she stood before her kill. A grey-furred rabbit with her arrow sticking out. A clean shot, so it didn’t suffer, but even after all these years, the weight of killing still sat heavy with Riley. A growl sounded at her back and she turned around to meet the monster at her heels.

The wolf had piercing hazel eyes, they seemed to glow almost gold in the early morning sun. He was unnaturally large, and his thick black coat swallowed up the light around him as his giant paws prowled slowly, circling around Riley.

She looked him dead in the eyes and couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh, don’t throw a fit. If this was your mark why didn’t you take it down when you had the chance?” She crossed her arms and waited expectantly.

The wolf continued to glare with those bright eyes, they almost glowed, its only answer was the breath coming out of his snout.

Riley sighed, “It came from your side, so if you let something slip in my zone I’m going to take it out. Fair game.” At this, the wolf seemed to lower its stance, ready to pounce. She quickly continued, “But… if you’re a very good boy and help me catch some fish tomorrow, I might consider sharing this little guy with you today” she gestured to the rabbit now sprawled between them.

The wolf seemed to consider this for a moment and huffed his agreement. He turned around the way he came and bounded off into the trees.

“You’re welcome Zephir!” Riley shouted after him. Gathering her bow and rabbit, she started making the trek back to camp.

After all this time hunting and living alongside him, she named him Zephir. He didn’t seem opposed to the name and Riley needed to call him something considering he was her Jevoy. While everyone has a spirit animal, their guardian in this world, it’s rare for the two souls to find each other. Even more rare for the bond to be accepted by both parties. Riley suppressed a smile as the memory floated forward of how she first met Zephir.

It was almost five years ago, her first night in these woods. It was storming the likes of which she’d never seen. She was cold and starving, with stolen clothes soaked all the way through and no clue how she was going to make it through the night.

Sitting under a fallen tree, using its pathetically barren branches as shelter and crying at her failed attempts at starting a fire. The tears were indistinguishable from the onslaught of rain and she cursed the Gods who kept putting her in these wet and miserable conditions. The wood she was using was drenched and the wind wouldn't let up for even a moment. Yet she hovered over it and tried again and again and again.

At the first spark the fire yielded, Riley shouted into the night, overjoyed with her triumph. The flame caught on a few leaves and she quickly covered it, shielding its delicate embers with her whole body, greedy for the warmth and desperate for it to stay lit. And in the light of that fire, yellow eyes stared back at her.

It was so dark that the shadows of the forest swallowed up the beast's body and it seemed like a black stormcloud was staring back at her. She could see herself reflected in his eyes, a scared, sopping mess sitting before an already dying fire, its flames dancing in those eyes as they went out. She knew it was done, that this is the moment it all ends. He prowled over to her, each step seeming to last an eternity and happen all too fast at the same time. This is it, she had thought, after everything I’d survived, this is how it ends.

She had to laugh thinking back to that night. Riley was so scared she couldn’t form a coherent thought in the presence of such a terrifying monster. He was probably the scariest thing she’d ever seen, and yet that night, he saved her. He took Riley gently by the cuff of her coat and led her to a cave not far off. And while she had no idea in the moment that he was her Jevoy, there’s not much arguing with a wolf when it has its teeth so close to all of your vital organs. So Riley followed him to his rocky den which was, at the very least, dry and sheltered them from the brunt of the storm. He had curled up around her, and even with her heart racing at the utter insanity of it all, she had somehow fallen asleep using that soft, thick fur to weather the storm.

That was the night they were bonded forever as a Jevoy and their Chosen. Riley likes to think it was her spirit, her unrelenting perseverance slaving away over that pathetic fire that earned his respect and made him accept their bond. More likely her little wolf just felt sorry for her. Regardless of the reasoning, they’d been together ever since, hunting in these forests and surviving as a team.

A howl sounded from somewhere deep in the woods behind Riley and she knew it meant that Zephir hadn’t managed to catch anything yet. Riley shook her head. While he was her Jevoy, he was awfully competitive about who was actually the most skilled hunter out of the two of them.

It seems she somehow managed to get stuck with the most prideful, arrogant wolf as her Jevoy. Nevertheless, as far as the animal guardians go, he has been an extremely useful ally. What would she have done if she had a raven or a squirrel for a Jevoy? She definitely would not have survived that first night in the storm sharing a nest with a bird.

Riley reached their camp and started working on preparing the rabbit for lunch. Saying a quick prayer of thanks to Gods long forgotten, she began her clean, neat work, ensuring that nothing went to waste.

By the time she had finished and had it roasting over the fire, Zephir had decided to grace her with his presence. He came back empty-handed and Riley could tell from the slouch of his head that he was not in the mood to hear any jokes about it.

“Here,” she said, tossing over some of the unsavory bits that she always kept for him, “I left you you’re favorite.”

He jumped on it and devoured the unlucky hare in record time. It had been a particularly brutal winter, and they both still felt the pang of hunger from the past few months. They had each lost considerable weight and would need to hunt a sizeable amount if they hoped to gain it back. That’s why tomorrow's fishing trip is such a priority.

Riley took the meat that she was roasting off the fire and started digging in. “Rest up, we need to catch at least a barrel before the cod pass through this area. We leave first thing tomorrow.” Zephir didn’t need any more encouragement than that as he sauntered off to sprawl out on a rock by the water, basking in the late afternoon sun.

Riley finished cooking the remains for them to have at dinner and began cleaning up. Life was fairly simple here: hunt, cook, train.

She set to work sharpening arrows and knives and then began with her daily training. The combat came easily now, she spared with the trees and air, fighting imaginary opponents of different sizes and skill sets. She ran through the motions of how to disarm and kill countless attackers. Her strikes, dodges, and kicks were fervent in their intensity, desperate for a win. Over and over she would practice, honing her muscles to memorize the moves she’d come up with.

“One, two, three. Attacker from behind, roll, swing the leg out.” She panted to herself. Riley didn’t have the luxury of a combat teacher, but she refused to be helpless any longer. So she lunged and stabbed, rolling over the ground and jumping off tree trunks until the sun had long set and she was too tired to do anything other than the next menial task on her daily to-do list.

Riley told herself that she trained to be prepared, for when she would have her chance to fight. Yet she knew deep down it was to keep that little voice in her head at bay.

Fight for what?

It would say.

There’s nothing left to fight for…

Riley wiped at sweaty brows and walked back to the dwindling campfire. Promising herself that tomorrow she would train more, if only on the off chance it would shut that voice up for a little while longer.