Lithia moved through the woods with quiet, careful steps, a shortbow cradled in her arms and a small bundle strapped to her back.
This was already the territory of Angaso Forest. In the past, her parents would never have permitted her to venture alone into such a place. Lithia had only heard tales of that dark forest from the servants at home: towering trees blocked out the sky, casting the deepest parts of the woods into gloomy shade even at summer noon; vines, roots, and thorny weeds covered every inch of ground, while venomous insects and wild beasts lurked in the shadows, eyeing all outsiders with hunger. She also claimed cannibal savages dwelt within, piercing the heads of lost souls with arrows and carrying away their skulls strung on longbows.
For a long time, these terrifying tales haunted Lydian's nightmares. As she grew older, she secretly doubted the servant's truthfulness—how else could so many hunters come and go through the woods? Each year, when the season was right, the plump meat of the does and the exquisite antlers atop the stags provided vital economic sustenance for Antler Town—the very reason for its name. Whatever dangers lurked in Angars Forest seemed insufficient to disrupt the lives of its nearby inhabitants.
It was the soldiers, those who claimed to eradicate all peril from the woods, who nearly destroyed the townspeople's way of life.
When Litiya first came to Angasuo Forest, she saw neither endless trees nor bizarre creatures. Only sparse saplings grew here—more a grove than a great forest. Such a sparse grove could hide no legendary brown bears; one had to look skyward for ages to spot a single bird. A man carrying a wooden staff walked through the woods, occasionally tapping tree trunks with it, like a farmer inspecting each seedling.
"Just a month or two earlier, this was all open ground," remarked the Amazonian man with a sigh. "What a pity. If you'd come here before last year, you'd have seen the ground covered in fluffy grass and vast swarms of green swallowtail butterflies, shimmering like rivers in the sunlight. Now is the breeding season for the macaw. In years past, they'd chatter incessantly on every large branch, mimicking the sounds of passing beasts until some fed-up jaguar snapped their necks..."
It sounded enchanting, utterly unlike the Angaço Forest Lydicia had heard described before. Listening to her teacher's tales, she couldn't help but feel regret too.
It was truly incredible that Lydicia now trained under the very nightmare of her childhood.
Crouching low, she glided through the shadows between the trees, her footsteps silent on the gravelly ground and branches. This skill she'd learned from the stories of the "cannibal tribes"—those Amazons who attacked fiercer than any warrior yet moved with the stealth of birds. The first time she witnessed their artistry, Lydicia was captivated. She practiced relentlessly, and by some stroke of luck, she was chosen as an apprentice to the Amazon warriors. Her parents were stunned—they'd sent her to the foreign tribe's school merely to learn herbal medicine.
Though her teacher praised her progress, Lydie felt that if the Amazons were forest falcons, she was but a fledgling chick learning to fly. She had trained diligently for some time now, slipping out of the house undetected with ease. Yet to show off her skills before her teacher? She knew she wasn't quite ready.
That was why Lydicia chose this hour to wander into the forest.
The moon had just dipped below the western horizon, and the morning star seemed less dazzling in the brightening sky. The crisp, clear air of dawn enveloped her, the cool breeze invigorating her spirit. The Amazons stationed here hadn't begun their morning drills yet, and the night watch guards had just changed shifts, leaving a barely perceptible gap. This was the perfect moment—not for any enemy, but for someone trained by the Amazons and privy to the secrets, someone who could slip past the patrols and wander into an insignificant area.
Lithia, however, had an insider.
She heard the blue-crowned parakeet's call: chirp-chirp-chirp! Two short notes, one long—clear and melodious. Since the trees had grown back, birds had returned too. The blue-crowned parakeet was the most common visitor this season. The Amazons living here wouldn't spare a glance at this morning's bird song—perfect. Lithia received the signal of safety and sprinted forward. She tapped her shortbow against a tree trunk. This blue-capped finch's drumming on branches held a meaning known only to them.
A rope ladder descended from above. Lithia slung her shortbow over her shoulder and scrambled up, hands and feet working together.
"Good morning, Lydicia!"
Her companion waited in the hut, smiling with eight white teeth, his waving hand stretching forward casually.
"Morning to you too, Aaron!" Lydicia replied, taking the backpack from her back and handing over the books inside.
The Amazonian boy took the books, sat down on the spot, and began reading with voracious focus. Lydicia, accustomed to his deep concentration, sidestepped his light source and walked toward the crates in the back. Stacked wooden crates served as tables, holding scrolls Aaron had brought. Lydicia picked up a scroll, carefully unrolled it, and studied the Amazonian archery diagrams in the light streaming through the window.
Becoming an Amazon apprentice had been an unexpected twist—a blessing or a curse, she wasn't sure. But befriending Aaron, the Amazon boy, had been a pure delight. Lithia nearly fainted with nerves on her first visit to the underground training grounds—she hadn't been so afraid of the assessment itself, but that day she realized she dreaded the pitch-black, confined space. Thanks to Aaron pulling her outside for fresh air and distraction, she avoided leaving an impression of timidity and uselessness on her archery instructor, Aaron's older sister.
They quickly grew familiar, moving from cautious reserve to sharing everything. When Aaron learned Lydian was a merchant's daughter with a brother attending school in Red Gum County, he became visibly excited. "How about this," he suggested, "I'll bring you my sister's archery manual, and you bring me books from your home. What do you say?"
"Really?" Lydicia asked, surprised, both eager and hesitant.
"As long as no one else knows," Aaron replied with a sly grin.
And so their secret meetings were arranged. Aaron found this treehouse, built by the Amazons as a lookout and storage space. No one ever came near this cluttered spot in the morning. It lay not far from the Amazons' newly built settlement on the ground, nor from the wilderness training grounds where warriors drilled their recruits. Both Aaron and Lydicia could reach it easily. The Amazon boy brought the human girl his sister's training notes and archery diagrams, while she reciprocated with her father's library books or her brother's textbooks.
While learning archery, Lydicia also studied the simple Amazonian script. The Amazonian script was relatively straightforward, and the text on scrolls like the archery diagrams resembled symbols more than words. One could grasp the gist by looking at the illustrations, and if anything was unclear, Aaron was always available to explain. Aaron himself hadn't formally studied the Common Tongue before, but shortly after Amazonians gained open access to human towns, the Queen mandated that all members of age learn to read and write it. Aaron possessed a sharp mind and an insatiable curiosity.
Lithia was the daughter of a local gentry. Though she hadn't pursued formal education like her brother, she had at least learned to read under a tutor's guidance. She'd also dabbled in bookkeeping, though she was hopeless at it. Her mother often sighed over this, fearing she'd be unable to manage her husband's accounts after marriage and might be cheated by the family's accountant. Having scraped by with the basics, Lithia was all the more amazed by Aaron's brilliance.
"Goodness, you're even better than my brother!" Lydie exclaimed, watching the equations Aaron wrote in his notebook. "I've never seen anyone calculate so fast—not even Father!"
Aaron lifted his head proudly, flashing a somewhat awkward smile of modesty. "I want to be a merchant," he said. "I calculate quickly and I'm good at haggling. Once I learn more, I'll be even better than I am now."
"That's wonderful! You'll become a very wealthy merchant!" Lydicia said sincerely. "You should tell your parents! If they knew how talented you are, they'd definitely send you to school—the kind my brother attends. I hear graduates become great merchants or officials. Then you wouldn't have to study here in secret!"
Aaron pursed his lips. "Why do you need to learn in secret? You could just ask my sister. The warriors never hold back when teaching."
Indeed, the Amazon warrior instructing Lydicia was strict but generous with her knowledge.
"I'm afraid if I ask too many questions, my teacher will think I'm stupid," Lydicia confessed. "I don't want to get kicked out."
Lithia had attended proper schooling before, but since only boys' academies existed here, her parents hired a tutor. She struggled immensely with the merchant's curriculum, barely keeping up no matter how hard she tried. When the tutor mentioned this to her father, she stopped attending lessons the very next day. The merchant decided it was a waste of money to invest in her education. Better to keep her at home, teaching her housekeeping, cooking, and dressing—skills that would help her marry well.
"How could they possibly kick you out?" Aaron looked up from his book at Lydie. "You were the best student there! Everyone said you were a natural Amazon. My sister even got into a fight over who got to teach you—she won, so she ended up being your instructor."
Lithia gasped, flustered as she plucked at her shortbow's string. The training was exhausting—for a merchant's daughter raised in comfort, the daily combat drills drained her completely. Beyond the target before her, the bow in her hands, and the screaming, aching limbs, she couldn't focus on anything else. Was she really that good?
"But—" Lydicia hesitated, "I'm a girl..."
Her brother couldn't care less about her being chosen as an Amazon apprentice. He believed this nonsense would soon end—how could his delicate little sister endure warrior training? Her mother shared similar views: "There must be some mistake, my poor darling!" She cried, pulling the exhausted Lydicia into her arms. She thought it improper for a gentleman's daughter to learn the warriors' sweaty, brutal ways. If she trained to become fierce and sturdy like those savage women, how could she ever marry?
"Stop crying. We can't afford to offend those foreigners now." " her father snapped impatiently, having drowned his disappointment in several extra cups of wine that day. The merchant had spotted a business opportunity in the Druids' magical powers, sending all his sons and nephews (except his promising eldest) to study the courses taught by the foreigners. Yet only his daughter had been chosen—and not by the Druids, but by those sword-wielding Amazons. He sighed, watching Lydicia, muttering, "Why must she always make the wrong choice..."
But Lydicia loved it here. She loved the feeling of piercing the bullseye with a single arrow, loved running freely in the wind, loved the approving gaze of her teacher and the applause of the spectators. Here, she felt she had found her place.
"What?" Aaron asked. "Is there something wrong with girls?"
"Girls might not be suited for warriors," Lydicia admitted honestly. "Even among adults, women aren't as strong as men. They lack explosive power, tend to be gentler, more emotional—well, less aggressive?"
Her voice faltered as Aaron stared at her, his expression a mix of skepticism and amusement. "Seriously?" he asked. "Do you know how long the warriors argued about having to train outsider men?"
"Huh?" Lydicia looked utterly confused.
"Haven't you noticed yet?" Aaron closed the book and gestured toward the training grounds. "Have you ever seen a male Amazon warrior?"
Lithia tried hard to recall—and realized she hadn't. She ventured cautiously, "I thought it was because they teach female students..."
Her mother's only concession on the matter was that her teachers were women. "Though it's improper," she'd said, " at least it doesn't tarnish Lydicia's reputation."
"Not at all!" Aaron exclaimed. "Only women among us can be warriors and leaders! Because men are deemed too slow, lacking endurance and resilience compared to women. When impulsive, they're controlled by instinct, lacking the empathy for multifaceted thinking. They need women to lead and protect them."
Now it was Lydicia's turn to stare in disbelief. They locked eyes in speechless silence for a full minute before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
"How strange," Lydicia laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. Something she wanted to say remained elusive, so she repeated the word over and over, "How strange."
"You bet," Aaron shrugged. "My parents are gone, and my sister's overprotective. She'd never let me go be a merchant among the tribes. 'How are you going to protect yourself, little Aaron?'" He mimicked her in a high-pitched voice, waving his hand in disgust. "Aaron, boys aren't suited for this, boys aren't suited for that, blah blah blah." If I were a girl, she'd encourage me to go out and get my hands dirty, calling it essential growing-up experience."
"My parents are the same," Litiya agreed, her voice heavy with shared understanding. "If only we could switch places. I was born on your side, and you were born on ours."
"Yeah... but now both sides are tied together," Aaron stroked his chin, his eyes flashing with an idea. "Do you think it's possible that after a while, both sides might even out? Like flour and water turning into dough—anyone could be a warrior, anyone could be a merchant, do whatever you want, no matter who you are..."
Before he finished, they both heard a sound.
Both boys, meeting secretly here, were hyper-alert. The slightest noise was enough to trigger their reaction. They quickly packed their backpacks, restored the treehouse to its untouched state, and only then cautiously peered outside.
Not far away, commotion erupted from the Amazonians' ground settlement.
What was happening? Two small heads squeezed through the tiny window, watching figures as large as beetles scurrying back and forth, quickly disappearing into an opening in the ground. They strained their ears but couldn't make out a word.
"Is today some kind of special day for you guys?" Litiya asked.
"Nothing special," Aaron denied.
"Hmm..." Litiya murmured blankly. "We had training scheduled for this morning. If something came up, wouldn't the teacher have told me beforehand?"
They were all baffled, but unlike the sheltered country girl, Aaron sensed a thread of tension in the air. He recalled previous close calls and systematically ruled them out: whether the Wither Curse that ravaged the forest or the cannon that tore through the earth, each had clear warnings. Now, with sentries guarding the north and the Lord of the Dungeon surely spotting any approaching armies, what could possibly require everyone to hide underground? Was something happening within the Dungeon itself?
Aaron scanned the distant horizon. The northern sky stretched silent and still. When he turned back toward the settlement, it had fallen quiet. Not a soul remained outside.
"We're going down!" Aaron declared decisively.
This eerie stillness in the forest set off alarms in his mind. The Amazonian youth would rather face his sister's wrath than take risks. They climbed down from the treehouse to the ground, less than an hour before dawn. Bright morning light bathed the forest...
Suddenly, the sky darkened.
They heard birdsong.
How could one mimic this sound? Not chirp, not twitter, nor any common call. Even native forest dwellers couldn't identify the bird producing this cry. Rather, they recognized it as bird song only because the two boys couldn't imagine what creature might emit such a shrill, piercing wail.
What obscured the sunlight nearby—was it a cloud?
For a fleeting moment, Aaron thought it was a dragon soaring through the sky. As an Amazonian raised in the forest, he'd seen riders take their flying dragons out for walks. But a glance upward revealed it wasn't a dragon. It was pure white and rounded, like a spindle covered in tiny bumps, its tip pointing straight toward them.
So immense was it that even before fully overhead, it had already swallowed part of the morning light. How large exactly? Impossible to judge, for it flew as high as clouds, as white as clouds, yet no cloud maintained such steady form while moving purposefully forward. By feel, it didn't seem fast, yet with every blink, it drew closer. Lithia and Aaron swallowed simultaneously, their eyes locking in mutual alarm.
"Should we go...?" Lithia blurted.
"Go!" Aaron snapped back.
They took off running, heading for the Amazon settlement.
What had once felt close now seemed impossibly distant. They ran as fast as they could, yet their legs felt too short. But it should be fine, right? Liticia thought hopefully. It looks so far away—we should definitely outrun it.
The colossal thing in the sky truly wasn't that fast.
The sharp screech grew closer.
Earlier, it had sounded like wind or distant birdsong, but now it grew distinct, its origin unmistakable—behind them. Lydicia buried her head and sprinted. Aaron glanced back, his pupils suddenly contracting.
The sky had filled with the black silhouettes of "birds," the nearest one right behind them, close enough to make out its features. It didn't flap its wings; instead, they stretched flat like a glider. Beneath its body, something sharp glinted coldly.
Lithia was shoved aside. She crashed to the ground, sliding several meters with the momentum, her chin striking the pavement until it bled. A powerful gust swept overhead as she groaned, rolling over. Strands of hair clung to the back of her hand. Lithia realized a large section of hair at the back of her head had been cleanly severed.
"Get back!" Aaron shouted from behind.
Lithia obeyed, not only because of his warning but also due to the sudden chill rising on her back. She rolled several meters away, clutching her shortbow. A sharp metal object scraped along the ground beside her right arm, kicking up a cloud of dust. Only then did Lydicia see it clearly: a monstrous bird, roughly human-sized, with a sharp tail hook, diving toward them again and again.
No, not just one.
The sky was filled with these monstrous birds. The sound of their flight produced a hair-raising buzz, like a swarm of bees amplified beyond measure, or a flying horde of scorpions. How many were there? Compared to the colossal figure on the distant horizon, these swarming shadows closing in were far more terrifying. Their red eyes glowed in the sky like a flock of crows watching a dying cub.
Aaron scrambled to his feet, crouched low, and charged forward. He yanked Lydicia up and sprinted desperately ahead. Lithia was petrified. Her pack lay abandoned where they'd been. Clutching her shortbow and quiver like a lifeline, she could barely hold on. She was a marksman on the range, but she'd never faced even a single beast. This was too much for her.
The worst part was, they couldn't continue along their original path.
A clearing stretched dozens of meters between the woods and the gathering point. While they could use the trees for cover in the forest, they'd be sitting ducks in that open space. Aaron gritted his teeth, turned, and charged in another direction. He remembered a pile of surplus stone blocks there—their builds could squeeze through the gaps between the stones.
A strange bird attacking from the flank separated them. Had Aaron not let go in time, his right arm would have been severed. He heard Litiya choke back a sob, then stumble. More misfortune followed—Aaron heard the crack of her ankle.
The bird was closing in.
If only Sister were here, Aaron thought frantically. He shook his head violently, casting aside the futile thought, then took a deep breath and hoisted Lydicia onto his back.
Lydicia was only slightly shorter than Aaron, and the still-growing boy could never possibly carry a girl his own age at a brisk pace. He struggled to maintain balance, his pace barely swift enough to dodge the diving hooks by clinging close to the trees. Aaron spotted the pile of stones in the distance and gritted his teeth, accelerating his pace...
A sapling as thick as a wrist was cleaved clean through the trunk. The upper half of the tree was hurled away, and Aaron was hurled away too.
His head struck something, and darkness engulfed his vision. That moment felt stolen away. When Aaron opened his eyes again, he saw blood spreading across his chest and another bird approaching.
In his hallucination, he heard his sister draw her bow.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Longbows didn't make that sound, nor did they fire that fast. The first arrow grazed the monstrous bird, the second ricocheted off its eye, but a third arrow flew forth. Aaron strained to turn his head and saw Litiya drawing her shortbow. Her actions flowed like water—nocking and drawing arrows with such fluidity that the gaps between shots were barely perceptible. Her innate talent and relentless training unleashed astonishing power in this critical moment. The human girl wept, her teeth chattering, yet her hands remained steady as rock.
The third arrow struck precisely where the second had hit, and the fourth followed suit. An imperceptible crack widened explosively under the third blow, and the creature's crimson-glowing head shattered with a thunderous crack. The screeching ceased abruptly as the thing plummeted, plunging headfirst into the mud.
Aaron laughed, blood surging from his throat. He swallowed it back, offering his companion only a toothless grin. Lydicia managed a faint lift of her lips, sobs still shaking her. She wiped away tears fiercely, lest they blur her vision. She raised her bow toward the next monstrous bird.
Even with perfect accuracy, the arrows left in her quiver would only be enough to take down one more.
A shadow swept across the sky.
Liticia, utterly focused on the birds, didn't notice. Aaron, lying on the ground, did.
The flock erupted in chaotic cries, like a pack of hyenas catching the scent of lions. A fierce wind knocked them sideways, then a massive shadow abruptly descended, forcibly clearing a gaping hole in the sky. The previously overwhelming flock scattered in panic, countless birds plummeting to the ground, the red glow in their heads extinguished. A wave of heat swept through the sky, flames raining down and igniting the wings of the monstrous birds.
"Hang on, kid!" The voice of the rider, usually so smooth-talking it was annoying, sounded like music to her ears in that moment. "We're here!"
The crimson dragon, carrying its rider, plunged into the swarm, followed by rows of smaller flying dragons.
The dragon cavalry had arrived.