Before going outside, Izuku always took great care to don the disguise that Toshinori had given him. First, he put on a black cap to cover the downy feathers laced throughout his white hair. Then he slid on the oversized shoes that hid his webbed feet. Finally, he used bandages to wrap his white wings close to his back. A thick fur coat mostly hid the lump. His wings immediately started to sweat and itch. But it was necessary. Even though humans almost never climbed up to the top of the mountain, he still disguised himself every time he went out. Izuku was the last Golden Goose, and that was dangerous.
Toshinori's door was several times too big for Izuku to reach the doorknob. Instead, Izuku slipped through the flap in the door. He slid down a ramp made of clouds, landing on the grass between two pine trees.
Toshinori's golden palace could be seen distantly overhead, the yellow metal gleaming in-between the clouds. Izuku set off down the stone path winding down the mountain. At his favorite pond, he could chat with the family of ducks living there.
The sun beat down on him. It was late spring, too hot for the coat. Izuku felt tempted to go back, but he'd been cooped up inside the cloud palace too long. He adored Toshinori and felt endlessly grateful to the giant for letting him live (and hide) here. But Toshinori had left on yet another mission to help people. After a week alone, Izuku was desperate for someone to talk to, even a bird. The birds never had much to say except yammering about food and nests, but his fellow winged creatures had always liked to flock around Izuku.
Today, two sparrows flitted over his head. They were having a couple's argument about who had been in charge of finding new twigs for their nest.
In the distance, a man cried out in pain or fear. Startled, the sparrows fled.
Immediately, Izuku leapt off the path and ran into the forest, toward the sound. A pair of legs stuck out from under a fallen tree. This looked bad. Izuku extended his hand, and golden light flashed forth. He created a hacksaw with a golden handle. After he cut through the tree and pushed it off, he quickly vanished his creation.
"Thank you, kind child." The man stood up and dusted off his black cloak. He was tall for a human, with curly white hair and red eyes. "What's your name?"
"I'm happy to help," Izuku said, hoping the man hadn't noticed his magic. Surely the tree would have blocked his vision? "I'm Izuku." Since none of his captors had ever bothered to ask, that wasn't a secret.
The man smiled. "I'm Hisashi. Not many people would immediately rescue a stranger. You remind me of the Last Golden Goose."
Izuku stopped himself before he flinched. "I've never heard of such a creature," he said with false casualness.
"A Golden Goose can create priceless treasures. Most only create raw materials such as precious metals or jewels. But the last remaining one could supposedly spin elaborate furniture or delicate chinaware out of nothing."
"That sounds too good to be true. Isn't it just a myth?" Izuku's hand shot up to cover his favorite emerald pin. He wished he hadn't worn it today.
Hisashi said, "The Last Golden Goose was a kind soul who would freely give away his creations to anyone in need. Unfortunately, this led to him being exploited by various powerful people who longed for riches."
The old manacle scars on Izuku's wrists ached. He forced a laugh. "How can an animal be exploited? Though I doubt such a creature exists to begin with."
"I was curious enough to come to this mountain to investigate," Hisashi said. "I'm a very powerful king, and I sought to offer such a rare being my protection."
Although the human sounded kind and gentle, Izuku's muscles tensed. Something about that smile gave him shivers. He wished he'd never come out walking today. He noticed that 1) Hisashi did not appear to be injured at all; and 2) The tree looked old and rotten, as if it had already fallen a long time ago.
Izuku stepped backward. "I've never seen such a creature around here, and I know these mountains well. I'm afraid you've wasted your journey." He gripped his coat, ready to rip it off and take flight at the first wrong move from the stranger.
Hisashi acted first. A glowing golden net appeared between his hands and wrapped around Izuku. Though Izuku struggled, the king swept the boy into his arms.
Izuku immediately summoned a sword to his hands, but nothing happened. The net had blocked his magic. Involuntarily, Izuku squawked. The cap fell off.
Petting the feathers in his hair, Hisashi crooned, "You're going to be my greatest treasure, little gosling." Heedless of Izuku clawing at his arm, he carried the Golden Goose away.
Toshinori pushed open his door. With a booming voice that rocked the chandelier, he called, "Izuku, I'm home!" He held up a tiny bundle pinched between his fingers. "And I brought you a gift." The bag was full of books. Toshinori had an extensive library, but giant books were hard for the boy to read. Izuku had to struggle to even turn the pages. Each word was big as Izuku's head.
It wasn't easy for Toshinori to obtain human-sized items for his guest. Most humans were terrified of him and threw pointy objects at him when he approached. However, Toshinori had obtained these books in trade with a harpy, and paid significantly more than their value, too. It would be worth it to see the smile on Izuku's face.
"Izuku?" Toshinori called again. There was no answer. Perhaps the boy had gone on a walk. Toshinori sniffed deeply. He picked up the trail of Izuku's scent: feathers, lye soap, and a warm golden magic like honey. Sticking the books in his pocket, Toshinori set off down the mountain.
As he carefully stepped around the trees, the hair on the back of his knuckles prickled. Toshinori smelled magic, strong and recent. It had a stench as foul as his outhouse. His nose wrinkled. The bad smell made it harder to track Izuku. Worse, the bad smell seemed mingled with Izuku's sweet-scented magic. This was worrying. The Golden Goose had come to this mountain to avoid the many powerful people hunting him. Toshinori picked up his pace, stepping on a fir tree in his panic.
The epicenter of the magic was a fallen tree. Shuffled footprints in the dirt showed signs of a struggle.
It was as he'd feared. Toshinori ground his teeth so loudly that a nearby bird fled. His hands shaking, he inhaled deeply. This wasn't over yet.
Toshinori picked up a single white feather off the ground. He inhaled deeply, memorizing the scent. Then he set off down the mountain.
A sorcerer was about to find out that giants were immune to magic.
