The hours passed idly, Anna craned her neck to watch the birds and the half-birds fly with branches, nuts, and berries in their beaks and their claws, bearing them to their nests for the cold days and nights that were to come. Herodotus told her of the changing of the seasons and their meaning to his people, the various ceremonies which were called to mark the changing of the last leaf from green to a fiery shade, the falling of the last leaf, and finally, the first snow. The winged-ones would gather by the tallest tree that was known to them in their forest and sing to the Sun to bring them warmth and to make the trees bear fruit; it was a merry occasion and one of great significance, as there was an innate fear in the full-birds that if they did not sing with the purest beauty and force of their throats, then the Sun would punish them with its absence. Indeed, the winters would sometimes last for one or two months longer than usual, but where never so long as to cause great dismay – for the birds would make sure that their stocks were well-laden in preparation for dire times. The Warming Dance was the most anticipated of ceremonies, that was when the brightly colored flowers in the forest would begin to bloom and spread their petals, releasing their sweet fragrance into the air and providing nectar for the hummingbirds – the smallest beings of the winged brood. Food was in great abundance and so there was great rejoicing and playfulness in the birds' hearts, they would at that time devote their efforts to search for their mates. Many species would dance and sing special songs that were only sung during the period of the Warming Dance, others would collect precious gifts and create ornate nests to welcome their beloved.

"No season is more lovely!" Herodotus told his visitor, pleased to see the joy and curiosity in her eyes.

"It certainly sounds very beautiful," she smiled, "I wish that I could be there to see the birds celebrate."

"It will come in a few months, one cannot be certain when exactly, but it will come," he assured her. "We just have to watch the forest carefully and pay attention to its scents, only then we will know."

Anna nodded her head, although not entirely certain of how the forest spoke to them. Although she had always enjoyed the beauty of nature, she had seen little of it behind the walls of the White Castle and so was not as well attuned to it as the birds were. But she was gladdened by the thought that they would soon teach her their ways and that in some sense perhaps she could become a part of their community. As for the question of changing, she had yet to decide. The matter weighed on her so strongly that she was often tempted to banish it from her mind completely and give her mind some rest from that which so daunted her. Yet not a day passed when her companions did not ask her of her decision, and each time she was obliged to shake her head, a rueful and embarrassed expression upon her face.

She so wanted to fly and to live as they lived, but there was a vague fear that still rested in her heart of leaving behind all that was dear to her from her past, she wondered if her husband would recognize her if she were to be so changed – surely he knew her origin well and would understand that it called to her to return as strongly as it did. Anna never learned from him the name of the forest from whence she came nor anything else of her spirit's original abode and so she would at times imagine with delight that perhaps this was the very place where she had been born. Although she would think of him from time to time, the new world had excited her so much that she could well forget for hours at a time, yet it was often in the night that she remembered the Queen and her horrid court circling about her.

Her new life soon took on the comfort of routine, each morning she would awake from her soft makeshift bed of assorted fur clumps and wash her face from a bowl fashioned from a giant walnut, the very same from which she first drank when she had arrived. She would then brush her long hair with a plastic purple comb which Psyche had scavenged several years ago – pleased to see that her collection was serving a purpose beyond pleasing her eyes and displeasing her brothers. Some of the bristles had been broken when she had found it but it still worked well, and neither she nor her brothers could fashion a better one. As for brushing her teeth, Psyche thought it a great fortune that she had a brush of the sort in her pile also, but this Anna refused as it looked particularly grimy and damaged, and so she turned down the kind offer as politely as she could. Instead, she settled for chewing mint, which much puzzled many of the full-birds when they had learned of the girl's peculiar habits, so unlike their own. She would then look forward to a breakfast with her new friends; their diet was one of fruits, seeds, and nuts for the most part – with the occasional beetle and worm for protein. Anna promised that one day she would try the latter, but many days passed without so much as a nibble from the writhing piles that were placed beside her. After the meal, they set to work upon the various tasks of the day – most often Psyche was occupied with gathering while the two brothers worked upon the new nest. Anna did her best to help with the construction and was a great help to them due the dexterity of her fingers which were apt at the thatch-work required, she even added some decorative elements by bending and twisting the branches to create beautiful designs around the entrance of the spherical nest. On the first day that she set to work with them, she asked whether they were relocating or if they would live in both nests – she could see how it could be quite cramped for the four of them to live together in one place, although it was still most pleasant to enjoy each other's company so often. The birds were very docile and rarely argued, so Anna observed, whenever their voices rose one of them would dart out of nest at a sudden moment and fly outside for some time before returning with his or her anger quite subsided. However, there were times when she saw some pecking take place at the entrance of a few of the nests. When she asked about this, Herodotus told her that pecking would sometimes happen between different species of birds when a particularly good spot was taken for nesting after another bird had already marked it for his own, and also there was the matter of mates.

Her friends explained to her that Hesiod had reached the age when he was to search for his beloved at the nest Warming Dance. That was why they were working on the nest. After he was united with his other half, he would move into the new nest with her – promising to visit his siblings often. Anna was overjoyed to be a part of the family's preparations and took even more care in decorating the home so that it would be the loveliest any bird had ever seen. She would help the two brothers sort through the tufts of animal hair which Psyche would bring for the very softest and cleanest, she would arrange the bounty of berries by type and color, and polish the beautiful stones which Hesiod would find for the ceremonial gifts so they glistened like stars. The latter could be searched for and chosen only by Hesiod himself, for such was the tradition, but as for the rest – he was glad to have the help of his friends. Flowers were brought to twine about the branches just outside the nest so that it would not fail to catch the eye of any passing bird. It was a wonder where Psyche found so many beautiful bulbs and how they stayed fresh for as long as they did.

Late at night, Anna could hear Hesiod practice his singing while leaping from branch to branch, his brown feathers puffed out as he sang with the full force of his voice. He would flap his wings in strange rhythmic motions, at times while carrying one of the shining stones, making patterns by his movements among the leaves. She would watch him practice for ours, although always in secret lest he should grow bashful knowing that she was close by. At times, Psyche and Herodotus would join her in this, all of them wondering if perhaps their brother knew they were there after all, and did not mind them. They were all eager, counting down the days until the elders would confirm what they each anticipated.

Anna and Herodotus were adding the final flourishes of color to the beautiful nest when they heard a great cry resound through the forest. It was the sound of the elder's call being carried from beak to beak by the birds nearest, to be sent far and wide like a powerful echo so that the news would reach every ear as quickly as it was made. When one bird hear it would hop to the very top of its try and make the call at the top of its lungs, and if another bird was to hear in the distance, it would do likewise. The forest grew so loud that Anna had to cover her ears, but she was smiling all the while for she knew what it meant. The Warming Dance was announced at last.

None was more gladdened than Hesiod in the assorted nest of four. He could not help but check upon the nest again and again to make sure that everything was perfect, only to spend another hour or so perfecting his dance and his song - although by then he was quite confident that it was at its very best. Little by little, birds gathered in great numbers by the great tree, waiting for the night to fall and for the sacred white blubs amid its leaves to open. All watched in great anticipation as the fragile petals began to spread, while the moon shone on them they seemed most ethereal to Anna, carrying an unspeakable godly beauty. The chirping and rustling of the feathered beings had subsided to mark the solemnity of the event. How beautiful and hallowed it was to behold. Each of these special flowers had four curving white petals and at center of gold, they seemed to her like lovely vessels of pearl. She yearned to touch them and smell them, even to drink from them. Psyche whispered to her of the Ambrosial Nectar, how when a bird finds his beloved, and the beloved accepts his most precious glistening stone, both descend to the bottom of the great tree where the white flowers grow and drink their sweetness to mark the joy of their union. Then, the bride would set down her pebble by the flower from which the couple had tasted as an offering of gratitude, laying it upon the earth which feeds the great tree. The two birds would then fly to their nest and consummate their love. Such was the ceremony of the Warming Dance.

Anna smiled to hear of the beauty of the ritual. Watching from afar with her two friends, she saw how birds would fly amid the spreading branches, filling the forest with beautiful voices and intricate dances. As time passed, more and more bird would swoop down to the bottom of the great tree and dip their beaks and small tongues to taste of the Ambrosial flowers. They would then fly away into the depths of the woods far from the multitude, and one less voice would be heard.

The young woman sought to find Hesiod among the birds but she could not find him among the soaring wings, she had focused her gaze mainly upon the cluster of revered white flowers and hoped to see him when he flew down with his mate. As she waited, she saw many beautiful birds, their eyes beaming with joy. Anna had never witnessed anything so beautiful. It filled her heart with unspeakable gladness.

She watched the glorious night unfold, sharing Psyche's excitement; the young half-bird perched on a branch beside her and covered Anna with her soft wing to keep her warm in the night air.

"I am so grateful that you took me here," she looked up at Psyche.

"I am glad that you are here," the other replied.

"I-I want to tell you something," Anna said with some nervousness, fearing that her words to come would sound uncertain.

"What do you wish to tell me?" Psyche turned her gaze from the great tree to look at her.

"I want to transform, I do," she strived to make her voice strong and firm to convey her wish properly.

"Oh Anna!" the winged-one exclaimed, "I am so happy! Never had there been such a wonderful night!"

"I would like to start tomorrow morning if I can," Anna smiled back at her, a slight pang of worry coming back to her.

"That can be done – it will be done!" the other assured her. "Oh Anna my dear friend, now truly we shall be sisters!"

"Your family has been so kind to me, I want nothing more," she bowed her head.

"I must tell Herodotus, and Hesiod if I can find him!" she said eagerly. "Where have they both gone?" at those words she suddenly took wing, leaving Anna on the branch by herself.

The young woman looked about her, wondering if she had made the right choice, so overwhelmed by the beauty of the ceremony and the sense of love and community which it presented. Truly she had never seen a place which so suited her nature, so at one with the forest. She waited for her friends to return, imaging the congratulations that the brothers would sing to her and also curious to meet Hesiod's beloved, if he had found her already. Anna hoped that what she had announced was appropriate on the sacred day, that it did not strive to overshadow the celebrations of love.

Anna rubbed her shoulders, trying to ward away the goose-bumps on her skin, for the night was growing colder and still none of her friends had returned to the branch where she had last seen them. Soon the singing began to ebb away and Anna could feel her eyes grow heavy with sleep, she could only guess at the lateness of the hour. Striving to fight away exhaustion, she tried to focus on following individual songs and the minute details in the coloration of the birds which perched nearby.

Suddenly, she heard a pair of wings and felt the branch on which she sat shake from added weight upon it. The young woman turned to see the fair-feathered Herodotus beside her.

"Hello!" she smiled at him.

"Hello Anna," he answered her with a shy smile. "Are you enjoying the celebration?"

"Yes! Very much so," she replied.

"Did Psyche leave you on your own?"

"She went to look for you and your brother, there is some news that we would like to share – I have decided that I would like to transform after all."

"That is amazing news! I am very happy for you, you will love it here I am sure," he smiled back at her.

"I believe I will," she nodded.

"When will you eat the first share of the grains?" he asked after a pause.

"Tomorrow."

"That is quite soon, well that is good."

Anna nodded bashfully.

"Are you nervous? Do not worry, many humans have gone through it," he tried to reassure her.

"I suppose you are right, but I am not entirely like—"

"It might be even better for you then, you might become a full bird," he did not wish for her to worry, especially not on a night of festivities. Yet in his own heart, there too were unsettled emotions.

Anna nodded again, hoping that she would not reveal her hesitation upon the next day.

A long silenced passed between them as they searched for what to say.

"When will your season come to drink from the Ambrosial flowers?" she spoke at last.

"Oh – w-well…I -," he stammered, blushing visibly. "I do not know if I will."

"Why not?" Anna was much surprised. "Is it common to refuse?"

"I do not know if you had sensed it but I found it loathsome when you asked me about my about the City, I never thought I would see it again," he began, his eyes darting to see that his sister was not near. "There are some things about it that I had once missed but it is a horrible place now, not like here. Yet not very long ago I had been called to return. I have to - I do not know when exactly, but surely it will be soon. I do not want you to tell the others however, they would be angry with me and perhaps they would even try to stop me. But you are not from here and I hope that you would not meddle – I tell you of it now because it weighs upon me to hold onto secrets from absolutely everyone and feel so utterly alone in this place. I have to tell someone, I hope that you do not mind that it is you and that you shall not betray me. Please – promise that you will tell no one of what I speak," he looked at her with a mixture of anger, fear, and hope. The young woman was frightened by the sudden change in him, she had not expected him to confide in her so.

"I promise," Anna's eyes were filled with pity for him, she felt much foreboding for what he would tell her.

…

Soon the coming of night swept away the sun and its warming light. The forest was filled with the beating of heavy wings and the familiar hooting of owls, although these sounds were recognizable to the two travelers, there were times when they doubted their memory and let their imagining take over, conjuring images of the ghouls of night. The air, too, grew cold and their clothing was not enough to keep in the warmth – were it not for the fire that they had lit, they were certain of freezing. Amphelios held his hands close to the flames and let the blaze warm his fingers, while the Founder held a skewer of mushrooms and potatoes to be heated up for a supper. These he accompanied with some salted pork which he kept for the very purpose of a long journey's meal, most often however, he tried to avoid eating too much of meat as it always filled him with great remorse and disgust to take a life of even a brutish animal. After he had lead one of his swine to the slaughter, he would be ashen faced for days, especially when another animal's gaze would meet his - even animals of other breeds, such as the goldfinch or the doe.

Although the fear may have been an unfounded one, he imagined that the animals of the forest had gazed upon the old butcher's deed and seen all, that the sparrows and mice had spread the word throughout the forest like a wildfire – as days passed each being, big and small, would have heard that their caretaker was a monster capable of the greatest cruelties. He was much ashamed of the cravings which led him to eat other foods than those which grew from the earth. Of this he spoke to the Keeper, who agreed with the humane spirit of the other man's anxieties but did his best to reassure him that the forest knew little of what he did, or else did not care to remember, perhaps it even forgave – as it is a well known matter that beasts prey upon beasts. Even dignified birds such the owl are a fearsome and merciless threat to the mice that live in the woods. And if one were to think of smaller birds that never tasted of blood, few are innocent of taking the lives of insects – which, although not endowed with beauty, but often its opposite, had as much claim to their lives. These arguments seemed reasonable and persuasive to the Founder but so far as to move him from his remorse, he knew that he could not forgive himself of taking more lives than what could be avoided, especially of the larger and more intelligent animals which knew what fear was.

"Do not fill your mind with brooding thoughts," the Keeper placed his hand on the other's shoulder.

"I am inconsolable," the elder man sighed.

"Try and sleep," said Amphelios, leading him away from the fire to the tent which they had made. The Founder was persuaded to lay down, having washed his face and changed his robes. Indeed the night was a cold one. As the old man prepared for his rest, his companion went to put out the fire and store their provisions. He feared that a wind might sweep fiery branches far from the pit and set the forest ablaze, although it was perhaps an unlikely fear he deiced not to take the chance. At the same time, he found the flames very beautiful, like a portal to a different world, and spent more time near them alone, simply watching their movement and the loveliness of the glowing embers. As well, he took some of the pork and ate a little so that by the karmic gesture he could join the Founder in his guilt and perhaps take a share of the other's burden.

When they awoke the next morning, there did not feel well rested but decided that it was best to continue the trek, as though by reaching the mountain, they would be blessed by an unknown force. It pleased them to know that there was a clear destination towards which to direct their efforts. With care, they disassembled the tent and readied the mules, wishing to waste no daylight.

However, as they moved onward, their steps were not as sprightly as they had been, but instead were as the trudging gait of slaves. Even the mules seemed to move slower than usual, perhaps merely wearied from the distance which they had already walked.

"I can see that there is still much sorrow in your expression," the Keeper spoke as they passed by a ravine, stooping down to drink of the fresh water.

"The birds have been coming less frequently to my garden and I worried for why that was, I thought it may have been due to the pigs and the poultry which they had seen me eat," the Founder answered him.

"There must be another reason, perhaps they have enough food nearer to their nests and so they need not venture as far now that it is summer," he tried to comfort him as before but felt apprehensive that it would be of no use.

"It is not only the birds – I have been thinking of the City. I had seen your wife in a dream and it appeared ominous to me. I believe she will be taken there soon, before we could reach her," he looked at the other gravely. "I debated within myself whether or not I ought to tell you, as there is nothing that we can do. I would have told you if a second omen had come, instructing us on whether or not we should venture the risk of returning in order to take her away or if she would find her path on her own. There is no reason to believe that she would come to any harm."

The Keeper was silent for a while, weighing the words which were spoken. "It is good that you have seen her, at least we have some sign of where she is and know that she is in our realm and living. Yet as you well imagine, I am concerned for her – the City has changed much since we had last laid eyes upon it. I do not know if we would be welcomed, or she. They are wary of visitors from the outside. The new regime has many of the evils of the last, but under a different banner. There are nuances, of course, and not knowing these will be a risk if we were to attempt to return without being recognized."

"Do you wish to abandon or search for the solitary being then and travel to the City?" the elder man asked him.

"I must think upon it more, we should not make the decision lightly," he said.

"Indeed," the Founder nodded wearily. "I will see if I can find out more about the City and who we could reach out to of our friends and allies that remain. It has been many years."

"Is there anything more that you could tell me of my wife?" asked Amphelios.

"Only that she is safe now and among kind folk, they are as the birds – I have never seen the like of them before. I do not know if their appearance is merely a symbolic representation or if they are truly so," answered the Founder.

"How did they appear to you?" he was much fascinated to hear of a new race in addition to his wife's whereabouts.

"As half human and half bird," was the other man's reply. "They lived in trees just as birds do and were capable of flight. Yet I do not know where such a place could be found – it seemed to be a vast forest with trees several times the size of those which surround us."

"I have not heard of such beings nor of such a forest before," remarked Amphelios. "Perhaps it is only a symbolic vision and not explicit truth."

"I am moved to think that it had been explicit, for I had eaten animal flesh the prior night and that binds my visions more closely to the spirits of this earthly realm and helps me avoid the errors of interpretation, better than herbs and fruits unfortunately. When there are urgent matters which I must cast for, I urge myself to do what must be done - especially for a friend who is in need of my aid. That too, was part of the reason why I acted disparagingly towards you during the previous day, speaking without wisdom or compassion, but as a petulant old man. A part of me was unhappy with the clashing of my conscience which your coming has brought into my heart – to eat my animals for the sake of finding your wife. But do not feel guilty for my sake; I would not have chosen otherwise if I could undo the past, please forgive my transgressions," the other bowed and Amphelios returned his bow as a sign of forgiveness, bending lower to signal his own fault in the matter. "Before you had gone to the tent," the Founder went on, "I had been conjuring the spell which I had spoken of, by the pig's flesh - I had planned to do so when we had first learned of your wife's disappearance in a vision in the cave. I had seen many clocks counting backwards and the Prime Chancellor a moment before you killed him. Anna and a man I did not recognize where moving towards us, as well as many others – but they were further away. I saw my old car go up in flames and a group of men pushing it to turn it over. There was an electric billboard for supplements from which sparks erupted – the people were full of rage."

Amphelios felt ill to hear him speak of it but he did not interrupt him, wishing to hear what he saw to the end.

"Another element which confused me was that I sensed, or thought I sensed, two or even three versions of your wife. They were all in the City. One was man-made entirely and had nothing of her spirit, the other was the Anna which was made of yourself and the spirit of a bird, and the last – it was the spirit of the bird entirely, but from a different realm in which it developed into a human-like aura. I am sorry, they must make no sense – these words which I speak. "

"A most vexing dream," the Keeper was concerned to hear of the vision, for it gave no sign as to what he ought to do and filled his mind with images of terrible things. If anything, it made the matter of finding his wife more complicated than before.

"What else did you see?" he urged him to continue.

"There is little more to tell," the older man lowered his head.

"We must return to the City," Amphelios spoke decidedly. "I know of a Deacon who will see to it that we travel in safety and discern what we can. I will contact him as soon as possible."

"I am in agreement with you," spoke the Founder.