Chapter 1

3 Years Earlier

The Sun was setting. Its blinding glow settled cozily between the two tallest treetops that surrounded my territory, just as it did the day before. And the day before that. And the day before that.

And it would rise over the left edge of the mountain to the east, just as it always would. The seasons would shift and the Sun would linger for long in the Summer and would retreat from the bitter chill in the Winter. But every day, no matter what, I would watch it rise and fall like clockwork. It never changed.

I had fallen into a cycle of my own. Every day, the same. I rose in the morning and retired in the evening. I flew high up in the sky and watched over the trees and the mountains. Watching, but never truly touching.

Part of me believed that I had grown comfortable. It was a distant comfort, really. I didn't have to fear, didn't have to harm anybody. I could just watch and rummage through every emotion under the gaze of my massive celestial counterpart.

Not that I ever truly felt them. I acknowledged their existence, pondered at their curiousness, and remembered the times where they would coil around my fragile body like overgrown leeches.

Oh, Tobias, you don't need to be so melodramatic. Get a grip!

My internal monologue was my primary source of entertainment. Somewhere in this sleek hawk brain was a bedraggled young man, itching for a life of more than just seeking prey items and finding a warm place to nest in the winter. Only in internal monologue could he truly push himself upon me.

He had grown tired of the view, tired of seeing the Sun rise and fall in the same place every day. Tired of watching but never touching. Tired of the monotony, of the distance from everything that he found himself.

The Hawk is the 'He.' 'I' am Tobias!

Tobias… I was a Human, but it had been so long since I'd even talked to one. I saw them a lot, wandering around Yellowstone with video cameras and backpacks full of picnic items. Mostly during the Summer, but some still braved the cold at this time of year. Even when the snow came down and threatened impassable barriers, and the wind chill sent teeth chattering like maracas. That would indicate my time to leave, to travel south where the air was warmer. I always returned just in time for Spring to liven the place up again. That was when the park would start getting busy with the less daring tourists yet again.

Sometimes they took pictures of me, not even wondering if I was the one that disappeared. They had no idea that I was that Human trapped in a hawk's body. In a way, it made me sad. It was like I had simply been forgotten.

Who could I blame but myself? I left them and never went back. Not once. I stayed long enough to say goodbye to Rachel, the only one who'd kept my humanity alive. Since then, I'd been feeling the hawk slowly taking control, day by day, every time the Sun rose and collapsed.

Yet, it remained.

I would be lying if I said that I talked to nobody, that I didn't confide in friends and share Human-like memories with other sentient beings. I did just enough to hold onto my old self, and I did it on my own accord. Usually.

When I saw the leaves of my tree rustle with activity, I knew that this was not one of those times. I only waited to see which of the regular visitors it was. When I clambered across my perch to face the trunk, I saw her steadily rising between the dense upper branches. She reached forward, wrapped herself around the trunk, and twisted her neck to look backward at me.

"Hello, Tobias!" Ket greeted.

((Hi, Ket,)) I replied. ((You're never here this late.))

"Ket comes when Ket needs," she said prissily.

((Ket comes when Ket wants,)) I countered. ((Have you come to get away from Rugiff again?))

"No. Ket needs to come this time," she said with more seriousness.

I leaped from my branch to gently land on her shoulder. My claws didn't hurt her through tough Hork-Bajir skin. ((Why? What is it?))

"Hruthin Ax wants to see Tobias," she explained. "Say, "please find Tobias, I would like to speak with him.""

She looked proud of herself to deliver such a message, but I was hesitant to respond. I hadn't spoken to Ax for a long time, probably years. He could have at least given some clue as to the intent of the conversation he was so desperate to have.

But I was swayed. He was family, technically. Not so alien to me as he was to everybody else. Was I so cold to just ignore his request for a talk when we'd done so much together? He'd done nothing to harm me.

((Where is he?)) I asked Ket, whose snout was almost jabbing against my belly.

"Ax is at Headquarters," she answered. "Will Tobias go?"

((Yeah. I'll make it back before nightfall. Will you be back home?))

She nodded. "Ket will be home."

((I'll stop by when I'm done,)) I replied. Then I dropped from her shoulder, straddled my branch, and burst from the leaves into the cooling Autumn air.

Headquarters was a peculiar name that the Hork-Bajir had begun to use for what was actually known as the Lava Mountain Extra-Terrestrial Tourism Centre that had just recently been built. It must have been something the staff called it and been picked up by local residents. It was south of my home, just off Highway 26. Not difficult to find, but nor was it a short journey. Ax's message must have been passed along a chain whose segments all roughly knew where I lived.

So long as they kept it to themselves…

However, even if they did tell Ax my exact location, I doubted he would willingly make the trip himself. Andalites tended to stay clear of Yellowstone. I didn't necessarily need to wonder why.

During this time of year, I wasn't getting much uplift with the colder ground, and the long-distance flight was tiring. However, I could never grow tired of the views of my new permanent home. The mountains and the trees guided my path southwards, and I eventually spotted the gleaming roof of Headquarters among a scatter of pines. As it clutched to the last echoes of daylight, I realized that a trip back north could take me well into nighttime and the territory of nocturnal predators. I would not fulfill my assurance to Ket and would have to find somewhere secure to stay. I had a rough knowledge of what birds resided in the area, and there were specific patches where my chances of a complete rest were high, especially as the migration season was fast arriving.

Ax was not hard to spot. A blue centaur in an enclosed, grassy clearing was fooling nobody, but he had deliberately moved away from the building for whatever reason. I had predicted it earlier in the flight, but my theory that it was no trivial discussion was solidified. He scraped his hooves against the ground in boredom and swayed his tail lazily back and forth. When I came closer, I could distinguish his highly active stalk eyes. I saw them a long time before they saw me, but when I finally came into his range of vision, he drew his main eyes my way. He knew I was no ordinary Red-Tailed Hawk.

I landed deftly on a log that he had conveniently placed himself before and instantly began the process of self-grooming.

((Tobias,)) he began, voice wary and concerned. ((It's good to see you again, my friend.))

((Good to see you, too, Ax-man,)) I replied. ((It's been a while.))

((Approximately two Earth years,)) he said. ((I have missed you in that time. I apologize for not coming to visit you sooner.))

((Hey, it's no big deal.))

He continued, ((I felt it would be best if you made the decision to speak first, considering the manner in which you left. You seemed upset, but also like you wished for time alone. It's something I've seen in Humans from time to time. I couldn't be sure, but I didn't want to infiltrate your space.))

((It's no big deal,)) I repeated.

I finished grooming and became static on my log. I brought myself to look at him and take in just how much he had changed. He was no longer a child, that was for sure. The visage of a war-riddled aristh had been replaced by the proud, slickened Andalite warrior, radiating ready energy and a bristling swagger.

((I've been in training,)) he said, with a tone that illustrated his uncertainty of how to approach me. ((A command course, to be exact. I have learned from some of the greatest warriors of our time, and I am now a fully-qualified Prince.))

I knew where the path was leading. The leaves had been blown from the track. ((Congrats, Ax-man,)) I said with sincerity. ((You deserve it. We wouldn't be here without you.))

((I-I'm going to command my own ship,)) he explained with a noticeable stutter. It was his turn to avert all eyes. ((An exploration vessel called Intrepid. She will be tasked to seek out resourceful planets and stray Yeerk populations for extraction. This means that I will be leaving. I travel for Andal tomorrow evening.))

((You came to say goodbye,)) I summarised coldly. I didn't feel hurt or disappointed. It felt like closure, more than anything.

((No, Tobias,)) he urged with a little more gusto. ((I'll come back. I'm going to do whatever I can to occupy Earth-based roles after my duty with Intrepid is over. I'm only scheduled for the position for one Earth year, and I'm sure I can convince my War-Prince.))

I stood motionless. ((Ax, you don't have to do that for me. Seriously, dude, I'm fine. I'm fine.))

((Nevertheless, I will visit you again. Tobias, my shorm. I promise that.)) He raised his deathly bladed tail up into the air. A true promise.

((You know where I'll be,)) I said with a humorless laugh. ((They didn't… You don't know where exactly I stay?))

((I didn't think to ask. I certainly didn't expect accurate directions,)) he replied with a hint of snobbishness.

((Toby knows,)) I said. ((If you do come back, she can lead you to me. She's much easier to find than I am.))

That conversation slid away. Ax, having regained some composure, still fought his way through to his following words. How things had gotten so awkward between us, I could only explain so far. I couldn't imagine how I would talk to any of the others, should we ever meet again. Ax was my shorm and uncle, yet the connection between us was very clearly rotted to the bare bones.

The words he came up with were blunt and serious. ((You can't stay like this. I'm no expert on human psychology, but I think I know enough to say that staying as you are isn't good for you.))

((What do you mean?)) I asked, but knowing exactly what he meant.

((In that body, you will be lucky to last another ten Earth years. I would hate for you to die as a bird, because you are not one.))

I said nothing.

Ax took a purposeful step forward, and he was within an arm's reach. He held one out above me, an invitation I accepted. When I clutched my talons loosely to his arm, he watched me closely with each of his four eyes.

((I want to teach you something; something that I learned a long time ago. Promise me that you will use it to start a new life. You are much more than this one.))