His announcement went about as well as Bunnitzol had warned him it would.

It was Rhangrot who led the hecklers, a fact that didn't surprise him in the least. The Bunnit looked out for any opportunity to attack Arsene and he probably saw this as the perfect chance he had always dreamt of. An angry mob had already formed around Rhangrot, joined by both the old Bunnits who were stuck in their ways and younger, idealistic Bunnits. Both saw Arsene as an insult to Bunnitdom and the eventual downfall of their entire Empire.

"You think the Empire of Bunnitdom is so weak, that you claim everything on the Bionis is a threat to us?" he hissed through long, sharp canines. Rhangrot did not look all that different to Arsene, except for being smaller and having slightly more white fur and less grey. Arsene suspected that some of the spectators gathered around the Glowing Obelisk weren't even sure which was which, as they roared and stamped with passion indiscriminately at everything that was said, as long as it sounded vaguely important or enthusiastically spoken.

"First you insist that a Homs - a stupid, slow, soft-toothed Homs - is such a danger to us that we must hide away in fear and barricade ourselves into our tunnels. You have the nerve to demand this of an Elder," continued Rhangrot, causing Arsene to wince at the way he altered the facts until they barely resembled the truth, "And then you go on to suggest we prostrate ourselves before the Giants!"

"I do not prostrate myself before anyone. I intend to negotiate an alliance between equals," said Arsene.

"As if we can't fight our own battles! We should be crushing both sides!"

"And yet we don't. Because we can't," said Arsene, "There is a difference between bravery and being completely delusional. This is why you will never rule. I have foresight, whereas you cannot even accept the reality that stares you in the face. We have been slowly losing ground to the warring Giants and Spiders for years now, and as for the Homs with the blue blade... something is very wrong with him. Something beyond the normal scope of things. The Bionis itself has revealed it to me."

Awed whispers rippled through the crowd. Visions of the future, proof of genuine deep connection to the Bionis and therefore right to rule, were something that they respected just as much as, maybe even more than the pride of the Bunnit species. Accusing Rhangrot of insanity had been a good move, too, as the insults would be seen as Arsene standing up for himself against the accusations of cowardice.

"You are the insane one. Quite apart from your lack of understanding of what it means to be a Bunnit, you will never survive the journey you wish to set out on. You will receive no help. We cannot waste resources on your suicide march."

"Fine, then. I don't need any help. I can hunt for myself," said Arsene, "This quest was given to me alone, after all. You say I am not worthy to call myself a Bunnit, yet you are too afraid to even consider braving the Mountain. There are giants on the Mountain too, so how do you plan on fighting them if you won't go into their territory?"

"They can stay there, for all we care. We'll drive them out of our lands soon!"

"So you say, and yet you don't. If you won't do something about the situation, it falls to me," said Arsene, "Not that any of the people gathered here would truly support you. Bunnits are too wise to take orders from lunatics."

Finally, Arsene dismissively turned away from his rival and addressed the crowd gathered below him, milling all around the ledges on the sides of the Obelisk.

"Citizens of the Bunnit Empire, do not let this madman lead you to your deaths," he said, "Do not ignore the threat of the blue blade. It has already taken the life of a strong, if foolish, Bunnit, and it will shed more blood before the night is over. Maybe that of the Bionis itself."

An older Bunnit gasped at the dangerous, ominous words. Arsene did not acknowledge him, but thumped his mace against his podium, then clambered down off his platform to the swamp bed. The mist was rising again. Night was falling early.

The next morning, the Court decreed that they would not try to stop Arsene leaving on his quest but neither would they aid him. He was to make his own way to Valak Mountain and prove that his quest was genuine, that he was truly the one chosen to make the journey. He wished the confidence he pretended to have in himself was more than a political move. He wished he really believed that he would survive the journey up to the highest peaks of the snow-covered mountain. Now that he had made such a huge boast in front of everyone, there was no going back.

Besides, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to be in the same region of the Bionis as the Homs with enough fire in his eyes and in his blade to burn down the Bionis.


As he hopped his way through Makna Forest, Arsene saw that the situation was just as bad there.

Bunnits didn't generally go through the jungle that was Makna Forest, except as a ritual test of strength. As well as several tribes of Orlugas, the rainforest was full of monstrous lizard-like creatures even larger than giants that could swallow a Bunnit in one gulp, other creatures somewhere between lizards and birds that could swoop unsuspected upon their prey, and worst of all, an entire settlement of those most voracious, relentless predators, the Nopon. No Bunnit would admit to being afraid of Makna Forest's fauna and they made endless plans to advance into the region at some nebulous point in the future but then put it off, blaming it on the hazardous terrain, full of sudden steep drops into raging currents, and the temperamental weather.

Arsene took a path through the trees, using his tail-hand to swing from bough to bough and land on the larger branches with one huge bound, his agile, padded feet landing him safely and quietly, ready to pick up a hefty stick and smack an unsuspecting Quadwing off its perch before it decided he was food. From his vantage point, he saw the Orlugas move in large numbers towards the caves on the opposite end of the Forest from their usual settlements near the edge of the Bionis, where deep crevasses had formed, possibly some kind of skin condition that the world-Titan had developed. The giants adapted to the jungle had muddy green skin, often with darker green stripes, were hunched over with flattened faces and overdeveloped forearms. Many of them wore masks of different kinds, often decorated with horns from the skulls of other creatures. Arsene had no idea what the significance of these were. They travelled with smaller creatures who shared some sort of symbiotic relationship, often riding on their back or even giving orders to the less intelligent giants. These Hodes were organising them into tactical units but when they actually met the enemy, the giant ants and spiders who poured out of the caves, mandibles clacking and teeth hissing, all semblance of order tended to fall apart. Bellowing in fury, the Orlugas charged towards their enemies, often losing or even trampling their riders, attempting to crush the insectoid creatures with their leather-reinforced fists or ram them with the horns on their masks. The Arachnos and Antols were an endless swarm, their deadly efficiency more like a single machine than an opposing army. The battle raged on for hours while Arsene watched, checking that none of the fighting came too close to his location as he crept along the branches. The savagery of the Orlugas and cold butchery of the Arachnos was such that the encampment of Nopon merchants that Arsene spotted on the cliff above him didn't even once try to sneak down and profit from, or eat, the casualties on either side. Blood both red and green ran down the rocks and into the fast-running stream before being lost in the great waterfall that dominated the Makna landscape. By the time Arsene had reached the bridge that crossed over into the caves near Valak Mountain, where he would no longer be able to hide, the Orlugas had begun a panicked retreat. So, he thought, Bunnitzol is right about that much: the giants are losing.

Crossing the bridge proved nerve-wracking to the Bunnit, who was dwarfed by its vast span, fully aware of the precipitous drop beneath him and deafened by the crashing of the current against the rocks. Ansels, giant birds of prey, circled above him and he even thought he saw one of the huge flying lizard things. He was exposed and out of his element. Don't be such a coward, he scolded himself, it's going to be much worse when you reach Valak Mountain. You vowed you would go there and if you break your word, it would make you no better than Rhangrot, not fit to rule at all!

No less than three Ansels and one particularly high-jumping Piranhax had tried to make a meal of the small, furry creature they saw alone on the bridge, mistakenly believing it to be terrified and vulnerable. Arsene had disabused them of that notion with a broad thorny twig he swung around his head with his tail-hand, screeching and gnashing his teeth at them as he flung their carcasses over the side of the bridge. Fortunately, the Pterix hadn't noticed his display, or had seen it all and decided he was too much like hard work to try and prey on. Relief washed through him as his feet touched more solid ground than the bridge. It had felt rather rickety and swayed too much for his liking. On the other edge of the bridge, his suspicions were confirmed by a small gang of Nopon who were attempting to perform repair work, worried looks on their beady-eye furry faces.

Arsene tried to edge around the dangerous little creatures, maneouvring back into what remained of the long grass that was transitioning into the rocky Valak landscape. A sudden burst of yelling made him freeze, his ears pricking up. Another Nopon had joined the gang and his arrival had caused a great deal of excitement of some kind - Arsene couldn't read Nopon body language all that well. He thought they might be yelling in exasperation and maybe even anger at him as their strange spherical bodies bounced up and down, flapping their almost vestigial head-wings. The newcomer yelled back at them in protest.

As the Bunnit watched the Nopons' antics in faint amusement, he was hit by another of his visions. He saw the Nopon who was being yelled at, except now he was clad in heavy, spiked armour, allowing only his long tufts of ginger hair to poke out, giving him the appearance of a pineapple. In his head-wing that doubled as a hand rather like a Bunnit's tail, he held a weapon that looked like a sharp-toothed mummified frog on top of a throne mounted on a stick. Instead of amusement, Arsene felt only fear and foreboding when he tried to look into the eyes of that Nopon warrior. It was the same fear as he had felt when he saw the Homs with the blue blade of light for the first time.

He bolted up the mountain path, not looking behind him at the startled cries of the hyperactively bouncing Nopon.