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Good evening, everyone! Though it is still a work in progress, I have decided to post the first chapter of my response to the Gang of Five fanfiction prompt challenge. The prompt for June 2018 was quite different from previous months as for this month each author posted a prompt which was then randomized and given to each author. The particular prompt I am responding to is as follows:

"We've seen a lot of issues of culture and inheritance in LBT, but these things are not always received the same way by the next generation. Whether it's a title, territory, or simply their heritage, depict a character embracing or struggling with something they consider to be their birthright."

In response to this intriguing prompt I have decided to step WAY outside of my comfort zone and confront a subject that is hinted at in the television series but has (to my knowledge) yet to be examined in fanfiction thus far: Petrie's belief in the Bright Circle. I hope that I am able to do this subject justice and, as always, I look forward to your feedback. (:

~Rhombus

(PS: For fans of Mender's Tale I must apologize for the lack of updates lately. Working 60-70 hours a week has really reduced my ability to focus on creative pursuits. However, we should have the next chapter to Mender's Tale ready by 8/2/2018.)

Chapter 1: An idea is planted

"It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live."

~Marcus Aurelius

The Bright Circle peered over the horizon like a bashful lover, bathing the barren landscape in brilliant light as if it were as worthy as the most beautiful valley. Against the collision of pinks and blues in the newborn dawn sky, the brown desolate rocks of the cliffs again made their appearance known, standing defiantly against the arrogant sky. But the flyer would not pay the cliffs any heed. He had only one target.

He hurled his body off of the cliff, quickly gaining altitude as his wings greeted the air. He would either return to this place a flyer worthy of name or he would earn his name in death.

Petrie was anything if not stubborn.

Two years prior:

"What are they doing, Momma?"

Petrie clicked his beak shut as his sister asked the same question that he had on his mind. Seeing flyers coming and going into the valley was nothing terribly uncommon, as most of their kind were migratory. But the sight that was before them now was something a bit different.

Just as had happened before another male landed on the top of the bluff, his chest puffed out against the wind in a defiant gesture as he squinted his eyes against the rising Bright Circle's dawning light. Then, with a final deep breath, he launched himself into the air.

Volant nodded and said something that Petrie had never heard before.

"May your wings carry you safely."

Petrie turned towards his mother curiously. "Momma?"

The elder flyer shushed her children with a wave of her wing before turning towards one of the other females present. "I'm sure he will be fine, Argent."

The female nearly responded grimly. "None of them return fine. They either return flyers or they die as flyers. The Bright Circle will decide, as it always does."

Petrie watched with equal parts concern and confusion as his mother bowed her head slightly in a show of respect even as her eyes communicated shock. If the other female had any opinion of his mother's actions she did not show them as she flew off without fanfare. It was as if whatever her son was about to do were the most normal thing in the world.

The children all stared at their mother questioningly. Gone was the annoyance at being woken up too early. In its place was uncertainty and more than a little fear.

"This is the Pursuit of Endless Day," she began as if she were reciting something from memory, "It is one of the Old Ways for us flyers. It is something that most of us have put aside."

The siblings all looked at one another as Petrie and Valaria shared a look. For once when Petrie asked a question it matched the sentiments of his siblings perfectly. "This Old Way look like a scary way! What… uh… is it?"

Volant took a deep breath. All that Petrie knew was that whatever this was made his mother as uncomfortable as when she explained to them how hatchlings were made.

"This is kind of like the Great Day of the Flyers, children. But it is something that we flyers do alone. It is when some of us fly at the Bright Circle to let it decide if we are worthy or not."

"Worthy to do what?" One of Petrie's brothers asked.

Volant looked down at her children darkly. "Worthy to live."

Petrie did not resist as he and his siblings huddled together instinctively. In fact he practically burrowed himself into the resulting pile of flyers.

Volant allowed her children a sad smile as she looked back in the direction where the flyers had taken off. Now all that remained were a few flyers trying to work one another up to making the challenge. Some followed the Old Ways, some did not, and some were undecided.

"In past times it was common for our kind of flyer to have all adults fly at the Bright Circle for seven days, only eating and drinking what can be grabbed in flight, and only stopping for sleep."

Petrie's head peeked out of the pile in shock. Seven days?

"How they make it? Petrie lucky to fly around valley and not be tired."

"You have to glide, children." She answered.

"Like Guido?" Valaria asked.

"Like Guido," Volant confirmed,"The flyers who glide can have enough energy to make the journey, but those who fly with their strength do not last. A flyer must use their inner strength to pass this challenge. This is why only half who try the challenge live to talk about it."

She turned back towards her children. "And this is why I will not permit any of you children to perform this test. Not while you are in the nest."

The children nodded at this and mouthed affirmations as none of them were willing to pursue the challenge from their mother's description of it.

"Why people do it then?"

This question made Volant pause for a moment.

"The Pursuit of Endless Day is… was… a way to keep the Bright Circle happy. It was a way to ensure that those who exist in its sky are worthy of being in it. But once the lands and skies became so dangerous, most decided that the Bright Circle was already choosing the worthy."

She rubbed her neck awkwardly, as if debating to say something. "My mother allowed us to choose if we would do the pursuit. I did not, but three of my brothers did. Only one of them remained."

Petrie's mouth opened in an agape pose as his mother sighed and lowered her head. Perhaps in that moment she knew that a decision had already been made.

The Present:

Petrie struggled to resist the urge to flap his wings as he struggled to gain altitude. He had wisely gorged himself with food during the season in order to build up his muscles and fat for the appointed week, and he had feasted on the day before for the sake of his journey. At best it would provide him with the extra reserves he would need. At worst it would make for a fine last meal.

But this created the special problem of maintaining altitude when his weight-laden body seemed to long to return to the ground below. Thank goodness the Bright Circle decided to hold this test during the hottest time of the Warm Season.

He carefully turned his head, being mindful to not lose too much altitude due to his loss of optimal flight posture, as he inspected the air around him. In front of him was the long valley of the north, covered in lush vegetation which both served as an enticing reminder of what he was leaving and a sign that no thermal uplift would be found there. To his right stood the high bluffs, periodically erupting with high mountains which would obstruct any prolonged flight. To his left, meanwhile, was exactly what he was looking for.

He turned his wings towards the left, aiming for the flat plateau of the north. From here he could glide in the direction of the rising Bright Circle and hopefully find his target for the first day.

Once more he would have to find the Night Flower. And then it would be time to find the Big Water beyond.

His wings ached already.

Two years prior:

"Are you insane, Petrie?"

"I do not want you to do it, oh no, no, no!"

In retrospect Petrie should have expected this reaction. It was one thing to talk about having a feast to please the Bright Circle and quite another to mention a bunch of flyers flying until they drop. In some cases literally.

"Well, um, Petrie not say he do it!" the small flyer defended as he raised a wing defensively, "Me just say it something that momma tell him about."

He was more than a little surprised when the head of the body he was resting on came into his vision, occluding everything else.

Littlefoot was surprisingly scary when he titled his neck like that.

"We would have an easier time believing you, Petrie, if you hadn't bragged about Pterano passing the test for half the morning."

"As if something that idiot does is worth of imitating."

That did it. Before he knew what he was doing he was flying directly at Cera's face.

"You take that back! Uncle make mistakes, but he not idiot!"

Had he not been enraged at the moment he would have promptly thought better of his choice and gone back to the safety of his friend's long neck. However anger makes us do the silliest things sometimes.

As Cera blew in Petrie's direction, causing him to tumbled end over end in the air, he could literally feel his ego deflate as soon as it arose. In many ways him colliding into Spike's flank was the logical result of the events of the day.

"Guys, do not fight! We do not need that!" Ducky exclaimed as she walked in from of Petrie's layed out body on the back of Spike's thigh. Then, almost as an afterthought, she helped him back to the ground. It wasn't until Spike licked him that he became vocal again.

"Urgh… me okay, but me just not know why this happen! It good to be brave, but why Bright Circle have to choose? Just not make egg in first place."

Littlefoot nodded at Petrie's logical deduction but unfortunately a certain threehorn spoke first.

"Maybe it's just another stupid flyer thing."

The longneck closed his eyes. "Well you give it a rest, Cera? We all have our own ways and wisdoms, and Petrie said that some of his kind do not follow this wisdom."

"And there is probably wisdom in not following that wisdom," Ruby pointed out as she joined in the conversation, "I wonder if that is how flyers prevented there being too many flyers."

"They could just ask for help from sharpteeth, I am sure they would be willing to deal with that problem." Cera retorted.

"What's eating you, Cera?" Chomper finally interrupted, offering the threehorn an annoyed expression, "It's not like Petrie said he is going to do this."

Petrie watched with barely restrained annoyance as Cera stood resolute against the collective glare of her friends. Finally, after a sigh, she relented ever so slightly as she broke eye contact.

"Yes, but you-" she nodded at the flyer, "...are thinking about it, aren't you?"

Petrie opened up his mouth to deny the accusation but her glare made him think better of it. She had seen right through him.

"Petrie?" Ducky prompted.

He squirmed. "Well… Petrie think about it a little."

The reaction was as inevitable as it was overwhelming.

"Petrie!"

Petrie grew silent as he took to the air briefly and landed on Spike, considering his response.

"There is no reason to do something like this, Petrie. You said that your mom doesn't do the Old Ways, so you could do her ways instead," Ruby noted.

"Yeah! Her ways probably won't get you eaten!" Chomper added excitedly before cringing a bit under Cera's accusatory glare.

"Why do you even want to do this?" Littlefoot asked in amazement.

An oppressive silence held for several moments as Petrie lowered his head and tried to think. Tried as he might he could not put his confused thoughts and motivations into words.

Surprisingly, from Petrie's perspective, it was Cera who actually understood.

"You have nothing to prove, Petrie. You are what you are. Just be happy with that."

Cera scraped her foot on the ground feigning disinterest before she again looked up at her friends. What greeted her then was every single one of them staring at her in surprise with Ruby tilting her head at her as if she were some weird unknown specimen and not the arrogant threehorn that they all knew and loved.

"Hmph! Enough of this Pursue the Bright Light nonsense! Let's play something before we get called to lunch!"

The gang did not hesitate to accept Cera's escape route for what it was - an attempt to save face. Within moments shouts of "pinecone" confirmed that a game had been set as each moved into their respective teams. But despite the situation shifting from what had came before Petrie could not stop thinking about her friend's words.

Did Cera see some of her kind in this ritual? And, if so, why did that frighten her?

The Present:

Petrie allowed himself to feel confident as his body sailed across the unseen air like a leaf speeding down a speedy river. Now that he was faced with the plateaus of northern bluffs he could relax and allow his body to glide under the Bright Circle's welcoming radiance.

A radiance that was quickly burning his back.

Forcing his eyes on the distant horizon, he ignored the discomfort to the best of his ability. He had intentionally glided in the heat for the better part of a season to prepare himself for the big challenge. It was now that the training was paying off.

Me need to find a Night Flower… and then me find watcher. But me hope Petrie find cloud first!

But the sky was as blue as could be without a cloud in sight. It was the first sign Petrie had that the Bright Circle was prepared to be a harsh judge.

Two years prior:

Cera poked her head out of the warm mud with a satisfied grunt as the annoyances of the day began to fade away. Her nieces and nephews… her friends... her father's usual stubborness… her friends… the fact that someone took her share of the sweet bubbles… her friends...

Okay, it was mainly her friends.

She grunted in annoyance as the little voice in her head interrupted again. That one that forced her to give a crap about their silly problems. The one that reminded her that threehorns were not always as awesome as they said they were. The one that she made sure never spoke out loud.

Though it kind of did today.

"Hmph… Darn it Petrie! Why did you beak-heads have to take a lesson from our stories?"

And there it was. It was times like this that Cera was glad that she thought about such things in this place where no one could overhear. The last thing she would want to do is explain something like this to Petrie, Ducky, or…

"Ah, so that's what it was."

Or, darn it, the flathead.

She tilted her head to look at the newcomer as the shadow from his massive neck appeared like one of the numerous trees around the mudhole. The fact that he had managed to get this far without her noticing was a testament to just how distracted she truly was. Though as the longneck proceeded to walk into her muddy abode her annoyance at her own absentmindedness turned into amusement at the farce she was seeing. Littlefoot's longneck physique towered over the mud even as the adolescent he was, with his belly not even reaching the level of the mud.

"Since when did this thing shrink on me?" Littlefoot asked with an amused tilt to his neck.

Cera rolled her eyes. "I think it was about the time you got big enough to devour entire trees, Littlefoot. The only way you could fit in here is…"

She never got the chance to finish as the mud in the mud pool gushed in all directions as the bulk of the longneck plopped down into its warm depths. In the end she was completely covered in fresh mud.

"Ah… that's better!"

He was rewarded with a retaliatory splash of mud, covering his arrogant flathead face in dark mud. The laughter, when it came a few seconds later, was genuine from both of them.

Despite the levity, Cera decided to preempt the longneck's question.

"I mean… I can see why the beak-faces have a Day of the Flyers, they have to fly… but why do they have something that gets a lot of them killed?" Cera half-spat, half-sighed, "I know why we threehorns have stuff like that - we have to be tough! But he's just a beak-face."

Littlefoot gave her a smile. "Worried he will take some of the glory?"

Cera noted that the longneck's neck was surprisingly nimble as he dodged her resulting splash of mud in his direction.

"No, you flathead! It's, well, I mean he could die."

The levity suddenly ended at those words as the two dinosaurs shared a look. Despite the jokes and the usual banter, they both knew what the spiketail in the sleeping area was.

"He could," Littlefoot nodded, "But then again either of us could of in our tests…"

Cera shook the mud off of her back to expose a scar, hmphing with pride as she did so. "I was not aware that longneck's had to fight to show they were tough enough to be an adult in the herd."

She watched as the longneck offered her a slight smile before suddenly frowning.

"I had to climb up a steep hill to show that I was strong in the Big Longneck Test… and a fall could have broken my neck. Okay, finding the hidden treestar in the second test was not the biggest risk… but my Dad suggesting that I had to find a way across the melted rocks was."

Cera sputtered, "He did what?"

He nodded. "The Big Longneck Test requires that longnecks show good judgement…"

Cera snorted. "So your dad failed then?"

Littlefoot continued as if she had not spoken, "So I had to come to the realization that it was foolish to try to get across the melted rock… which I did. But what if I hadn't? Dad said that he was going to stop me before I tried… but what if he wasn't quick enough?"

Cera grew silent as that horrible thought registered in her mind.

"I think this is where you make a comment about roasted longneck or something…"

He couldn't dodge the mud this time.

"This isn't funny! You could have died! And so could Petrie if he decides to do that stupid thing to make the stupid Sky Ball happy!"

"And you could have been hurt too," Littlefoot noted softly, "We longnecks and threehorns have the most expected of us… so we have to be prepared. I guess it is the same when flyers have to migrate from place to place."

Cera nodded, sighing heavily. "Well… Petrie is here. So we will need to convince him to not do that stupid test when it is time."

"And do you think we will be successful?"

Cera did not answer immediately as she arched her head upwards to meet the humid afternoon air. In the distance and not safe from her gaze were the retreating forms of several flyers, undoubtedly going about their daily routine. It was both a reminder of how carefree flyers could be in the valley and a warning for what Petrie could risk losing. Despite her usual bravado her answer when whispered was as honest of an assessment as she had ever given.

"I don't know."

The Present:

Petrie struggled to keep himself level as the heat continued to bear down on his unprotected back. Against the merciless glare of the Bright Circle there was no opening for escape or respite. No cloud resided in the brilliant blue sky and no attempt at changing his position relative to the harsh afternoon daylight would work. He had a schedule to keep.

As his right wing quivered he looked at it accustatorily. You not fail Petrie now! Me still have long way to go!

The wing appeared to heed Petrie's harsh rebuke as it steadied, quickly leveling Petrie's flight path. However the incident confirmed something that the flyer would not admit aloud. If he did not find some kind of shelter soon then he would be in dire straits.

He eyed the river below.

Doing a brief dip in the river, only long enough to cool the wings and then to take off again, was an enticing option in the midday heat. However it would take his wings at least several minutes to dry, and each minute lost was a chance for exhaustion to take its toll. Using the energy needed to go down to the river would undo countless moments of advantage he had gained by merely letting the thermals do his work for him.

No. Me not risk that. Me not drink or rest until Land of Mists.

He allowed himself to look towards the distant horizon. Just where the sky met the ground making distant vistas appear to reach for the blue void, he saw the first sight that gave him some measure of relief. It was the slightest hint of haze.

Though he would not reach it until nightfall at his current speed, it was the first confirmation that he was on the right track. He had found the Land of Mists.

Two years prior:

"Oh yeah! Well, I could make the trip in six days!"

Valaria watched as her brothers proceeded to outdo one another in their boasting. The possibility of the Pursuit of Endless Day for self-promotion and the attraction of girl flyers appeared to be the only aspect of what they had witnessed that morning which interested them.

"Ha! Yeah right, Grondo! You would be one of the ones that never return. You can't fly yourself around the valley without getting winded."

Grondo puffed out his chest in a display that would have made any adult laugh at the attempt. "I will make it! You're just worried about competition. It isn't like any of you other losers are even going to try it."

This made the four other males jump into the circle of agitated flyers. Each of them shouting out their own laughable judgement of their abilities and how all of the others were losers.

Finally she had enough.

"Many of those who flew today will die. Maybe you beak-brains should use your beaks to honor them instead of spreading spiketail dung about yourselves."

Had she hoped to knock some sense into them then those hopes were dashed immediately as they greeted the new entrant into their circle with the same insults they were sharing amongst themselves.

Grondo smirked. "Heh… it looks like sis wants to do the thing too. She must think her looks won't be enough when she goes looking for a strong male!"

Brasko fired back, seeing an opening. "She's probably is in it for the Bright Circle crap, just like Petrie."

What happened next was a blur to the female as all of the banter around her disappeared into a haze of muffled voices and nonsensical sounds. The only thing that focused in her vision against the darkness of the nest was her brother's insufferably smug face. By the time that she struck it with a firm swipe of her wing, all of the other siblings were scrambling to avoid her wrath.

"You guys can go get lost!"

Valaria gave her brothers an exaggerated swipe of her wing for emphasis as she proceeded to move to the edge of the bluff in preparation to take flight. Sometimes their immaturity knew no bounds. No one stopped her as she escaped the turmoil of the nest with a single burst of her wings. Within moments she was within the realm of the clouds.

'Sometimes my brothers can be so insufferably stupid! I know that they feel fear and sadness, so why do they not get what some of the other flyers are going through right now? Some mothers will be left without their children.'

It was when she noticed that she was looking down upon the clouds that she realized that she had lost herself in her rage and confusion. Feeling somewhat embarrassed she curled her wings close to her body and proceeded to shed altitude. The last thing that she needed was for her mother to think that she had flown out of the valley. She assumed that her brother would keep the shame of being hit by a girl to himself, but fleeing the valley would earn her a grounding if it was suspected. Within a few moments she had flown back through the clouds and the valley's verdant utopia was again firmly in sight.

She sighed. 'At least Petrie wasn't there to hear it this time. I wonder if he is playing with his friends again today or…'

Wordlessly she shifted her wings so as to follow the usual thermals along the desolate bluffs to the highest part of the rock wall, the Spire. The farthest that the little flyers were permitted to go and also the highest point of the valley itself. The closest ground to the Bright Circle's domain.

When the distant vista of the Spire came into view she smiled slightly at her intuition. Against the impossibly tall slender spear of rock, rising into the sky like a thing tail, was a very out of place brown blemish. As she approached closer she could clearly see the smallest hint of green leaves and a single stick. It could only be Petrie.

Petrie scrambled to get the leaves in something approaching order as the wind continued its assault on his efforts. Ultimately, after losing three previous mouthfuls of leaves that he had deposited on the rock, he decided to place small rocks on them to slow their descent off of the rock. Though he knew it was futile, perhaps they would stay long enough for him to say his piece to the magnificent orb in the sky.

He looked down at his handiwork. Before his small feet stood four wrinkled treestars that he had acquired one at a time from the valley below, each being held in place by pebbles. Beside them was the only object of value, his snuggling stick, though he knew it was only personally valuable to him. In times like this he really hoped that his mother's stories about this was true. That the Bright Circle looked at effort and intent, and not mere deeds.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. He had heard of people talking to the Bright Circle before. In his mother's stories it usually happened right before the climax of the story, before the flyer either had his happy ending or a tragic one. A sign that the Bright Circle sometimes said 'no'. But one could not have an answer unless one asked.

He rubbed his head. And then there was the matter of how to ask. Sure, he had simply looked the the Bright Circle before and said stuff like it was another dinosaur or flyer, but this was different. There were lives on the line, and he didn't want his puny efforts to make it worse. The Bright Circle was the Bright Circle, and he was merely a young flyer with much to learn.

He lowered his eyes in a mixture of sadness and uncertainty. Well… his best efforts would have to do on this day.

"Um… hello, Bright Circle. It's me, Petrie! Me know you already know that and can see me, but me want to talk with you if you have time."

There was no obvious answer to his words as the Bright Circle appeared unmoved. The winds did not deviate from their course, and the earth did not shake like in the stories. It was almost like the Bright Circle was not inclined to answer him at all.

"Me never ask something like this of you before, but Petrie try his best…" he closed his beak as he thought of the words he had planned ever since the events of the morning, "The flyers who leave today are brave. And they fly towards you to be accepted by you. Me…" he cringed, "I know they not do that unless they love you. Please give them a chance. And, if there anything Petrie can do to help, let Petrie know."

Not quite knowing what to do next, Petrie merely bowed his head and took a few steps back. By the time he looked up again another wind gust had arrived, sending his four leaves and his stick falling to the ground below. He barely resisted the urge to go after them.

'Sometimes the Bright Circle takes away."

"Petrie?"

The little flyer nearly went airborne as he flapped his wings in surprise. By the time he landed Valaria had already raised her wings apologetically.

"I was not on the rock until you finished," she clarified quickly, "I would not interfere with that."

Petrie allowed himself to catch his breath as he quickly dropped the glare from his expression. Raging at his sister for the Bright Circle's decision would accomplish nothing. If what the Bright Circle had said was true then things would not go well for some of the flyers. The dropping of the leaves and his stick were obvious to him - they would have no food or shelter.

"The Bright Circle make its decision," he said in a morose tone as if he were eulogizing the dead. "It take snuggling stick and treestars, so no food or help for them. Me… I don't think many make it."

For a moment it looked like his sister was going to say something, but then she clicked her beak shut with an audible sound. Instead she moved closer to the edge of the bluff and looked down at where the snuggling stick had fallen moments before.

"Well, sometimes the Bright Circle says things that we might misinterpret."

Petrie's head shot back up, "What?"

Valaria gestured at the bluffs below. "Your snuggle stick dropped, yes, but maybe that means that the Bright Circle thinks you are growing up? You did say "I" for it and did all of this by yourself." She walked over and placed a wing on his shoulder. "How long have you been setting this up, Petrie?"

Petrie rubbed his head. "Well, since pinecone game end before midday meal."

Valaria covered her beak. "For that long? Petrie, it is almost time to go back to the nest. You have been doing this for nearly the entire day."

Petrie shrugged. "It for Bright Circle. Me do it for another day if it want. But Petrie not sure what it want really."

Valaria sighed, not exactly knowing what to say. She didn't want to contradict his views as she honestly had no idea the intentions of the Bright Circle, but she also did not want to leave her brother wallowing in despair for an outcome that might very well not happen.

She finally decided on changing the subject. "I wish that our brothers would talk to the Bright Circle more instead of talking about themselves. You're over here trying to help those flyers, and they are busy gabbing about how awesome they are and how the others are going to die when they try the ritual."

She did not know what to expect from her brother really. Anger? Confusion? Annoyance? Those were all emotions that captured her perspective quite well. When Petrie did speak, however, it made her stare at him open-beaked in shock.

"It because they afraid. Me afraid too."

Valaria started at him for several moments. What?

Petrie shrugged. "Brothers always talk big when they're afraid. Remember when they meet Chomper? But Petrie… Petrie act more like scaredy egg." He gestured down at the bluffs below before shuddering. "Clutch snuggling stick. Talk to Bright Circle."

"What you call acting like a Scaredy Egg I call acting like an adult," Valaria soothed, "At least you accept what happened? They were just gabbing while I…"

'While I did nothing but think sad thoughts.'

Petrie now seemed a bit lost in his own thoughts as he did not notice her self-recriminating pause. That was when she looked at the barren rocks on the top of the Spire. The treestars had fallen, but the pebbles Petrie had gathered remained. As if they were waiting to hold something new.

'Petrie thinks too much of little things, but perhaps I think too little of them.'

"Petrie, I am going to get some tree stars. Would you… um…"

Petrie looked up at her.

"...show me how to do this talking to the Bright Circle thing? I don't want to make a bad impression."

The Present:

For the entirety of the long afternoon Petrie had longed for the coming of twilight and the end to his wing's misery. When it finally came though it merely allowed him to fully experience the ravages of the day. Where once had been burning now was a dull throbbing. Where once had been fatigue now was exhaustion.

And now the misty lasts below him had settled into the long shadows and mysterious fog that he remembered from his childhood. Though at least now he was mostly safe if he stayed off of the ground and stayed in the trees.

Mostly safe.

Settling upon a vine covered tree, he allowed its already overburdened branches to sway under his weight. Once his wings finally had a chance to stop he felt the fatigue truly set in.

He jerked himself upright to force himself to stay awake. He had to stay awake long enough to see the Night Flower and give it to the watcher of this place… and then he could finally retire for the night.

"There are some over there; do you see them?"

Petrie jerked again, privately berating himself for nearly falling asleep again. That was when he saw the person who had spoken to him. It was an elderly flyer on the branch below.

Petrie looked around to try to see what the flyer was getting at. It wasn't until he shook his head that the flyer gestured towards a plant in his beak before he again sat it down.

"I used to live here back before the mists took the place. Now it doesn't see the Bright Circle's love anymore, not much of it, anyway."

"You're the watcher for this place?" Petrie inquired, "Petrie thought the watcher for each place not help. Only other testers help if they want."

The elder flyer laughed heartily before his laughs were overtaken by a cough which lasted for several seconds. Long enough for Petrie to grow concerned.

When the flyer looked back up, however, none of the mirth had left his features. "I'm a tester, young one. Never did this as a youngster, but since the coughing sickness already has me… I would rather go out big than coughing on a bluff, you know?"

Petrie opened his beak in shock at the words of the elder. He had never heard of anyone except the young and strong making this journey, but he had heard of a final flight. Not knowing what to do he bowed his head in respect.

"Ergh… don't get all soppy on me now, kid. You're supposed to save that for after I drop dead. Probably some time on day three if I had to guess."

Petrie couldn't help himself as he glided down to the old one's branch. "How can you joke about that?" Then, seeing the indicated flower that had fallen during the old flyer's coughing fit, Petrie quickly flew down to retrieve it for him.

When he returned with the fallen plant, the old flyer had landed on Petrie's branch and deposited a new plant on it. "Decided I liked your branch better."

All Petrie could do at this point was tilt his head at the antics of the, by his own admission, dying flyer. A flyer who most certainly looked more rested and upbeat than himself. Finally feeling defeated by the crazy antics of the other flyer and his own fatigue, he merely lowered his head respectfully, sadness and confusion obvious in his features.

"What's your name, kid?"

Petrie looked up. Had it been anyone else he would have protested the 'kid' label as he had grown into his own. "Petrie, sir."

"Well, my name ain't 'sir'; it's Knacker. But if there is one thing that I have learned in life it is that the Bright Circle helps those who help themselves… and others," The elder looked at another tall tree in the distance which Petrie followed with his eyes, "You see that tree a 'yonder?"

Petrie nodded. "Petrie does."

"It has several young ones from my flock. Now I never really followed the Old Ways much myself, but old Andrea always was different. She sent her entire clutch out here. The more that I help with the petty stuff, finding flowers and special rocks, the more they can focus on not starvin' or getting eaten by something else that's starvin'."

Petrie covered his face slightly, feigning dust in his now moist eyes. "That's mighty kind of you."

The old flyer shrugged his shoulders. "You mind I ask something might big of you?"

Petrie nodded and forced his eyes to remain open. He already owed this old flyer much.

"Keep an eye out after the third day. The last stretch is when things get rough."

Knacker smiled before nodding in the direction of the sky.

Petrie looked up just in time to see an older flyer with a red treestar in its beak. It was the watcher for the Land of Mists.

He let out a warning call which made the flyer circle back and land on Petrie's branch. The large female almost dwarfed him in size as she lowered her head to get a good look at him.

"Ah, and we have the lone valley flyer this season. Well met, young Petrie. You found the Night Flowers before they even opened. You familiar with this place?"

Petrie was a bit taken aback. "Me be here as a kid once… but Knacker point out the flowers for me."

The elder female looked up at the branch above as the long shadow of the male began to cast itself on the branches below. She allowed him a soft smile, her eyes tinged with some measure of sadness.

"I can lead you to the rest of the flock, Knacker. You went a bit off course. They are on the tree over there."

Knacker laughed before a cough interrupted his amusement. "Nah, the Bright Circle led me to where I needed to go."

"The Bright Circle is down. It is nighttime," she deadpanned.

Knacker shrugged. "Silly me; it's what I get for flying with my night blindness. Lead the way, miss."

Petrie opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out as the two flyers took off into the night.

"T'was a pleasure to meet you, Petrie!"

And just like that they were both gone. A watcher to confirm his presence on this first setpoint of the journey, and an old flyer whose eyes had long-since faded in the darkness of night. A flyer who truly could only see when the Bright Circle showed him the way.

Petrie looked down at his night flower plant as it lay beside his feet. An obvious question plastered in his mind on what was already an exhausting day. How could Knacker see him or the night flowers in this near-darkness?

The Bright Circle was not around to answer, having more sensibly gone to sleep at the usual time and allowing its lesser brother take watch over the skies. As a result when the severed plant at his feet finally opened the petals of its now-dead flower, showering him and the tree in its eerie light. The words of the elder flyer echoed within his mind.

"...the Bright Circle helps those who help themselves… and others."