Chapter 14: Wood and Wings
The axe felt heavier by the third swing.
Kai adjusted his grip and struck again. The blade bit into the trunk with a dull, familiar thud, flakes of pale bark falling at his feet. The tree shuddered but held. He breathed through his nose and swung once more.
Behind him, pages whispered.
Lior sat on a low stump with his legs tucked in close, a book open across his knees. He wasn't really reading anymore. His eyes moved across the lines, but his mouth kept going, quietly muttering fragments of things he had read before.
"If you think about it," Lior said, not looking up, "trees are technically just slow water containers. I mean, most of what makes them tall is just pulled up from the ground."
Kai didn't answer. He brought the axe down again.
Nearby, Thomas loosed another arrow.
It thudded into the dirt a good arm's length away from the tree he was aiming at.
"Ah," Thomas said, unfazed. "Too much pull."
He was grinning anyway. The bow was new. Still stiff. Still creaked when he bent it. His older brother had given it to him before leaving for the southern camp, had ruffled his hair and told him not to shoot anyone important.
Thomas shot again.
The arrow skipped off a root and rolled.
Lior winced. "You're supposed to aim before you let go."
"I am aiming," Thomas said. "The tree just keeps moving."
"The tree hasn't moved once," Lior said.
Kai set the axe against the trunk and wiped his palms on his trousers. "You're both loud."
Thomas laughed. "You're just mad because you're working."
"I asked you to help," Kai said.
"We are helping," Thomas said immediately. "Moral support."
Lior nodded without looking up. "Also research."
Kai sighed and bent to gather the split logs. He stacked them carefully, smaller ones inside, larger ones beneath. A week's worth, if he tied them tight and didn't drop any on the way back.
The morning was still. Not silent, but quiet in the way plains always were. Wind through grass. Distant birds. The low sound of a town waking slowly behind them, far enough that it felt separate.
Then the light shifted.
Kai noticed it first because the ground darkened in front of him.
He straightened and looked up.
A shape crossed the sky.
Large. Too large.
Wings cut the air once, twice, then folded as the creature dropped onto the tall tree at the edge of the clearing. The branches bent under its weight.
Black feathers caught the sun and turned slick and bright, like polished stone. Its wingspan stretched wider than Kai expected, wider than he wanted. It settled with a rustle, head turning slowly, deliberately.
Its eye found them.
Thomas gasped.
"That's huge," he breathed. "That's bigger than a goat." Overly described by Thomas.
Lior stood up so fast his book slipped from his hands and hit the ground face-down. "That's not normal," he said. "Ravens aren't supposed to be that big."
The bird tilted its head. Its beak snapped once, sharp and loud.
A deep croak rolled out, heavy in the air.
Thomas laughed, half-nervous, half-thrilled. "Did you hear that? It sounds angry."
Kai didn't move. His chest felt tight, like he'd forgotten how to breathe properly.
The raven's feathers lifted slightly in the breeze. It looked solid. Real. And too aware.
"I could hit it," Thomas said suddenly. He lifted the bow. "It's not even moving."
"No," Lior said immediately. He stepped forward without thinking, hands out. "No, don't."
Thomas blinked. "Why not?"
"Ravens remember," Lior said. His voice wobbled, just a little. "They remember faces. And places. If you miss, or if you hurt it, it'll come back. With others."
Thomas frowned. "You made that up."
"I read it," Lior said. "They hold grudges. They teach other ravens. They'll follow you."
Kai swallowed. The raven's eye didn't leave them.
"How many others?" Thomas asked, suddenly quieter.
Lior hesitated. "I don't know. Enough."
Thomas lowered the bow slowly. "But it's a really big target."
"So is the tree," Lior snapped. "And you haven't hit that once."
"That's different."
"It isn't."
The raven croaked again, louder this time. It snapped its beak, the sound echoing across the clearing.
Kai felt it in his bones.
Then shouting broke the moment apart.
A horse thundered past the far road, hooves tearing at the dirt. A soldier leaned low over the saddle, helmet loose, voice hoarse as he yelled.
"The Spire Empire is attacking the Tinatus Wall!"
The words carried.
They didn't explode into panic. They didn't scatter the town. They just landed, heavy and strange.
Thomas turned toward the sound. "Again?"
Lior's face went pale. "They're not supposed to be this early."
Kai looked back toward the town.
Doors were open. People stood where they were. A woman paused with a basket in her hands. A man leaned on his fence, listening. No one ran.
It was like everyone had heard something expected.
"Spire Empire never learns," Thomas said, repeating the words his brother used to say. He puffed his chest a little. "They lost before."
Lior shook his head. "South is good land. My father says places like this make people jealous. If the ground gives too much, someone will always covet it."
Kai bent back down and looped the rope around the wood bundle. His fingers felt stiff. "Help me with this."
Lior groaned softly. "Bothersome." But he closed his book and knelt anyway, holding the logs steady.
Thomas jogged around collecting his arrows. It took longer than it should have. He found one stuck in the grass. Another under a root. One had vanished entirely.
"I still think I could hit the raven," he said, glancing up.
"Try hitting the tree first," Lior said.
"The raven's bigger."
"The tree isn't moving," Lior replied.
Kai pulled the knot tight. "Let's go."
Lior stood. "Alright."
Thomas slung the bow over his shoulder. "Okay," he said, regret thick in his voice.
They started walking.
The raven didn't move.
Kai felt it watching them as he lifted the bundle onto his back. The weight pressed down, familiar and grounding. He focused on that. On the rope cutting into his shoulder. On the sound of footsteps beside him.
Then he heard it.
"Kaaaaiiii."
The sound wasn't loud. It wasn't sharp.
It was clear.
Kai stopped.
Thomas bumped into him. "What?"
Kai looked up.
The raven stared straight at him.
Its beak opened.
"Kaaaaiiii," it croaked again.
His name sat wrong in the air. Heavy. Misshapen.
Lior laughed nervously. "Okay. That was creepy."
Thomas stared at the bird, eyes wide. "Did it say something?"
Kai's mouth felt dry. "No," he said quickly. "It didn't."
The raven snapped its beak once more.
Kai looked away.
He tightened his grip on the rope and kept walking.
The town came back into view. Smoke curled from chimneys. Someone laughed near the well. Life continued, steady and unbroken.
Behind them, wings unfolded.
Kai didn't look back.
He told himself it was just a bird.
And if it wasn't, he decided, then he didn't want to know yet.