Part Six: A Wing and a Prayer

He awoke to a dawn shrouded in mist. Ravena was already awake, looking towards the nearby forest. She glanced over when she heard him stir. "Good morning, Taurin, my sleepy friend. It looks like I got up first today, and you'll notice that I didn't rudely wake you up." She shot him a bright smile that he managed to return, though with a little less conviction.

"If you had have woken me up, I wouldn't have moaned and tried to go back to sleep. Unlike some people I've known."

She let that one pass without comment, and actually had the cheek to act as if she didn't know what he was talking about. She was busy slicing a loaf of crisp golden bread, and after bemoaning the absence of cream or honey, she passed a few slices to Taurin. The bread tasted fresher than it had a right to, being at least a few days old, but Ravena was right; some honey would have gone down nicely.

"So, we're heading into the forest today," he managed between bites.

"We are. To meet Jasen's friends." She spoke as if it was the most natural thing in the world, heading into the middle of a forest to meet unknown friends who apparently ate carrots, but the perplexed look on her face gave away her doubt. For his part, Taurin was equally baffled.

They finished breakfast quickly, and began their march through the boggy field that lay before the forest. Movement was very slow, the slimy waters clinging to the children's legs and making it difficult to climb on to solid ground, where such ground even existed. Insects buzzed around their heads, a constant nuisance, the bolder ones leaving bite marks, and the dense mist clouded their vision. Taurin was only too happy when the bog gave way to leaves and grass and he was standing beneath the eaves of the forest.

There was very little light in the forest, its great boles rising like an infinite sea of pillars, all of different sizes, all of subtly different design, holding aloft a roof of rich green that choked out what sunlight made it through the mist. Shadows lay heavy over the ground, lending a dark hue to the earth and fallen leaves. The fog and the darkness and the closeness of the trees served to give the forest a strange, almost menacing, feeling. Taurin felt Ravena move closer to him, and was secretly glad. This was the sort of place that made you want to maintain physical contact with someone else; Taurin shuddered at the thought of coming here alone.

The two travellers moved through the forest without speaking, their eyes darting from side to side as they walked, taking in the shadowy gaps between the trees, murky arches that led into deeper darkness. The air was heavy with anticipation, as if the very forest was alive and watching their movements, and Taurin jumped every time a small animal crossed their path.

They kept on like that for perhaps three hours, two small figures trudging onwards beneath a mighty canopy of branches and shadow. Great boles rose all about them, trunks many times their size and old beyond reckoning. It all made Taurin feel very small and very mortal.

Eventually, it ended. The trees thinned and then gave way, and the canopy grew less dense, allowing pale light to fall where it would through the leaves and branches. Taurin and Ravena found themselves in a small glade dotted with strange flowers and crossed by a shallow stream. Ravena let loose an awed gasp just as Taurin fully noticed the creature drinking from the stream. Then it was his turn to gasp. He was looking at a bird as tall as a full-grown man and almost as long as a horse. Its plump body was covered with long yellow feathers—apart from its legs, which were small and wiry and seemed too fragile to support such a heavy body. Two feathery wings dominated its back, but Taurin suspected they were not quite large enough to permit flight. The bird looked up and fixed Taurin with deep brown eyes that were at once gentle and piercing. The eyes were set above a long yellow beak made wet from drinking. Although he had never seen even a picture of one before, and had heard only the faintest description, Taurin knew what this bird was—a creature stepped straight out of mythology. He was looking at a chocobo.

By his side, Ravena had gone completely still. Apparently, she was just as amazed. Suddenly, he felt her clutch his arm. "There are more of them!"

True enough, Taurin could now spot two other chocobos, one resting at the edge of the clearing, the other bathing in the deepest part of the stream. A fourth chocobo was just entering the clearing; this one was white.

In a state that bordered on a trance, Taurin made his way towards the closest bird. It let loose a small shriek and retreated several steps, to once more regard him calmly. Taking another step forward earned the same reaction. Disheartened, Taurin shook his head and looked back towards Ravena. "It's no good. They don't want anything to do with us. Let's leave them and find Jasen's friends."

The smirk Ravena shot him had all the self-satisfaction of a cat that had eaten the cream. She shook her head slowly, and her lips drew tighter as if she was trying to hold back laughter. After some time, she managed to speak. "Sometimes your sheer stupidity leaves me breathless, my dear Taurin." The smile she gave him now was much gentler. "Why don't you try feeding it a carrot?"

Then it struck Taurin, and he had to laugh. Ravena was right; he was intent on overlooking the obvious, even when the truth was right in front of him. Slowly, he drew forth Jasen's pouch and produced a carrot. He lay it down on the soft grass and took a step backwards. The chocobo stepped forward and regarded it curiously. Then he lowered its head and devoured the carrot whole. He looked at Taurin expectantly.

"Give me that," muttered Ravena and took the pouch from him. Taking a carrot in her hand, she stepped towards the chocobo and fed it into his mouth. He gobbled it greedily, and then let her stroke his head.

"There, there," she muttered soothingly, as she continued to stroke. "I think we'll get on just fine." She turned to regard Taurin once more. "Whisper will carry both of us as far as we need to go."

"He told you his name?" Taurin was incredulous. "He can speak?"

"I really am going to think you're an idiot if you carry on like that. Of course he can't speak. He's a bird. I just happened to think Whisper is a nice name." The chocobo chirped happily, as if well pleased with his new name. And with that, Ravena grabbed onto the chocobo's back and hoisted herself up. She looked down at him expectantly.

"Well, it's not. It doesn't suit him at all." After thinking for a moment, he smiled, more than a little satisfied with his own suggestion. "How about Quicksilver? What do you think of that?"

Ravena gave him a dark look, and patted the chocobo's back as if to hurry Taurin along before he came up with any ideas that were even more ludicrous. The look the chocobo gave him was one of pure venom.

"That's not a no," Taurin managed weakly, and began his first of three attempts to haul himself onto the chocobo's back.

The journey was much quicker from there. Quicksilver carried them easily and tirelessly, the world disappearing in a blur of green and brown as he bore them out of the forest and through the mist. Taurin's fingers dug deep into the chocobo's back, for both the speed of their journey and the height at which he found himself were daunting.

As evening dwindled and faint stars began to dot the sky, Taurin could make out a cluster of dark smudges on the horizon. As they drew closer, the smudges became houses, and the houses became a town. "Flinden," Ravena offered simply, bringing Quicksilver to a halt perhaps a hundred yards from its outskirts. It was not a large town, being perhaps half again the size of Bellguard. Nevertheless, it seemed clean and orderly and well cared for, the soft glow of hearths visible through open windows and smoke rising from stone chimneys, faint slivers of grey against the darkling sky. The town was clustered around an impressive well, and its streets were made of cobblestones. Hedges lined many of these streets, giving Flinden a tidy look. It felt particularly welcoming after two days on the road.

Ravena made a motion to dismount. Taurin felt exhaustion wash through him as his feet touched the ground. It amazed him that several hours spent sitting astride a chocobo doing nothing could be so exhausting. Ravena dismounted as gracefully as if she had been riding chocobos her entire life, and turned to face him. "Let's get going."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Taurin grinned. "I've been longing for a warm bed for two days, and a hot tub for even longer."

"Not into the town." His disappointment must have shown, because Ravena's voice became gentle as she explained her decision. "I know, Taurin. I'd like nothing more than to spend the night in a comfortable bed, too. But we can't afford to slow down. Whisper's helped us get a long way ahead of the Collector; we've covered four days' worth of travel in two. But what if something unexpected happens and slows us down? What if it takes a long time to do whatever it is we have to do in the sealed cave? We need to be out of there and far away by the time the Collector finds it. That means we can't afford to get too comfortable and sleep in. It means we can't sleep at all."

Taurin was thunderstruck. "You can't be serious."

"Tonight, Taurin. We're going all the way to the sealed cave tonight." Her tone of voice as good as said that she would brook no disagreement. And when he thought of the Collector finding them and fulfilling the promise he had made on Taurin's first day in Peldor, Taurin was forced to concede that it was a wise plan.

"Fine. We'll find this cave of yours. And when I can't break the seal, we can turn around and go home."

"You will be able to open the seal, Taurin. I know it, and I know you know it." As much as he hated to admit it, Taurin did know it—knew it with a certainty that chilled his bones. Why the Sword of Legend responded to him the way it did, he might never know. But that did not change the fact that he could draw it from its altar—he could draw it where no other could. And he would be able to enter the sealed cave.

"You're right." He wanted to say more, but forced himself to stop. His mouth wanted to say a dozen things—that he was sore and tired and wanted to go home; that he was scared of what waited ahead; that he was scared of what followed them; that, above all, he was scared of the way the Sword of Legend had reacted to him, and what it might mean—but he refused to let it. He clamped it shut, and only when the worst of the panic that had suddenly welled inside of him subsided did he open it again. "You're right."

The look Ravena gave him—concern mingled with sympathy and deep respect … and something else too, perhaps a fear of her own—left him in no doubt that she guessed the depths of his worry. She chose to say nothing on that subject. She simply smiled encouraging and mouthed the words, "let's go."

And go they did. They left Quicksilver to his own devices, for the lands beyond Flinden became rough and uneven—territory as difficult for a chocobo to navigate as for two humans. Much of the terrain was cloaked by darkness, but what starlight revealed caused a shiver to run along Taurin's spine. The lush plains that he had become accustomed to abruptly faded, giving way to barren, near-lifeless hills. They saw few trees, and those few were stunted, leafless and gaunt. In the far distance, the Skalten Hills rose to impressive heights, but even that vision was terrible as well as beautiful; in the dim light, the steep and craggy mounds resembled the faces of horrible beasts. Taurin quickly looked away, dropping his gaze to the stony, dusty ground beneath his feet.

He had never been especially good at tracking time, but he knew they walked for many hours. Night deepened as they trudged on, but the silent world that they passed through did not change, unless it was that the hills became taller and the distant peaks drew nearer. "How long is this going to take?" he whispered at one point, and then winced. Even at a mere breath, his voice seemed to boom and echo through the still night. Ravena just shrugged, and their journey continued.

Eventually, the night stopped growing darker. Some time later—a long time later, Taurin guessed, as much from the pain in his feet as from the proximity of the tall hills—it began to grow lighter. A dull greyness was visible at the edge of the horizon, when Ravena came to a halt and motioned Taurin towards a deep recess in the hillside. As abruptly as that, they had arrived. Peering through deep shadow, Taurin could see it: a heavy stone slab that might have been a door, the ancient royal crest of Peldor visible as a deep silver etching.

Ravena looked at him expectantly. Taurin scowled back at her for a long moment, before eventually bowing his head. "This is it, right." He did not intend it as a question. He knew what was expected of him.

Ravena's voice was soft, a whisper that was almost lost in the gentle pre-dawn breeze. "It's time, Taurin."

With a deep sigh, Taurin began a slow walk towards the stone slab. Eventually coming to stand before it, his eyes level with the royal crest, Taurin hesitated. Then he screwed his eyes shut and thrust his arms forward, bringing his palms into contact with the cold stone.

He felt the crest flare to life and burn as if set aflame. His eyes remained closed, but with a sense other than sight, he perceived all that happened next. Green fire, at once unbearably hot and piercingly cold, trailed along Peldor's crest. Then green light flared, and the entire stone gate—for that is what it was—glowed. Then, with a suddenness that left Taurin gasping, both flame and light were gone, and the gate was once again cold. A rumbling filled the air, and the stone slab shuddered. Opening his eyes, Taurin saw it separate, a hitherto invisible fissure now running vertically down its centre. The two halves swung inwards, and Taurin found himself staring into endless, impenetrable shadow.