The journey across the Great Plains was serene but uneventful. For days, Rice, Darius, and Ryden traversed the vast expanse of rolling grasslands, their boots crunching through the sea of green. Occasionally, the wind would carry the faint rustle of unseen animals or the distant calls of birds, but otherwise, it was just the trio and the open sky.
On the fourth day, the sun sat high above, its warm rays unrelenting as the group decided to take a break beneath the shade of a solitary tree, its branches spread wide like a welcoming umbrella. Rice flopped onto the ground, rummaging through his bag. "You know," he said with a grin, pulling out several pouches, "it's time for me to shine."
Standing with a theatrical flourish, Rice opened the pouches of seeds that had been gifted to him in Pillaris. Without any apparent plan or ceremony, he began tossing them into the wind with dramatic sweeps of his arms.
"Behold!" he called, his voice dripping with mock grandeur. "The Shepard of Plenty is gracing these lands with his magical touch!" He flung the seeds high into the air, letting them rain down like confetti.
From his spot on the ground, Ryden raised an eyebrow. "Bro," he said, his tone flat. "What are you doing?"
Rice turned his head with a wide grin, still flinging seeds with abandon. "I'm making it rain, stupid," he said. "Hey, as the guy with the title Shepherd of Plenty, it's kinda my job to spread the awesomeness of food to the world. Who knows? Maybe in a few years, this'll be an epic grove of plants and fruit trees. Imagine it—Rice's Plains of Plenty!"
Ryden snorted, leaning back on his hands. "Right. Sure. Whatever you say, Mr. Plains of Plenty."
Rice turned toward him, still chucking seeds over his shoulder with a dramatic flair. "Oh, look at me! I'm Princess Ryden," he said in an exaggerated, singsong tone. "I love pretty things! I love sunsets and flowers and all things beautiful because I'm the Bringer of Beauty or whatever."
Ryden groaned, his annoyance plain as he glanced at Darius, who was smirking silently in the background. "Hey, toss me one of those chisels," Ryden said, gesturing toward Darius's pack.
Darius complied with a casual shrug, pulling out a finely crafted chisel and tossing it toward Ryden. The latter caught it deftly, inspecting the tool for a moment.
"Made that one myself," Darius said, a note of pride in his voice.
Ryden nodded and turned his attention to a medium-sized rock he'd been using as a makeshift seat. Rice let out a sigh of relief, for a second he lowkey thought that Ryden was going to stab him.
With careful precision, he began chiseling into the stone. Each tap of the chisel was deliberate, sending tiny shards flying as he worked. The process was mesmerizing to watch, his movements fluid as the form of a nest of birds gradually emerged.
First, he carved the delicate outline of the nest, weaving grooves and lines to mimic twigs and branches. Then came the birds—tiny, intricate forms with wings poised mid-flutter and beaks slightly open as if ready to chirp. As he worked, Ryden's brow furrowed in concentration, and his hands moved with an artist's intuition, coaxing life from the stone.
When he finally stepped back, letting out a satisfied sigh, the sculpture was breathtakingly lifelike. The birds looked as though they might take off at any moment, their features so detailed that even the faintest feathers were etched into the stone.
Before Ryden could admire his work for long, a strange energy filled the air. A dark, moonlit glow began to emanate from him, the silvery light wrapping around his hands like tendrils of mist. Simultaneously, a deep, crimson aura surrounded Darius, the earthy hue flickering faintly like embers.
The two auras began to intermingle, their energies swirling together as if drawn by an unseen force. The light converged on the chisel in Ryden's hand and then sank into the sculpture.
With a sudden, sharp pulse, the sculpture came alive. The stone birds began to move, their wings fluttering as they hopped out of the nest and onto the ground. One by one, they chirped and flew upward, their stone bodies shimmering with faint traces of moonlight and crimson as they soared into the sky.
Ryden stared, his mouth agape, as he turned to look at Darius. "Was that you?" he asked, pointing at the sky where the birds were still circling.
Darius looked equally dumbfounded, holding up his hands. "Don't look at me. I have no idea what just happened!"
The two stared at each other for a moment, then glanced down at the glowing chisel in Ryden's hand.
"It's gotta be our titles," Ryden said finally, his voice tinged with both awe and confusion. "Herald of Beauty and First Blacksmith. They didn't come with descriptions, so…"
"Guess we're figuring it out as we go," Darius muttered, still watching the birds.
Meanwhile, Rice, who had been sulking dramatically about not being part of the epic moment, turned back toward his scattered seeds—and let out a surprised yelp.
"Uh, guys?" he called, pointing.
The seeds he had flung carelessly across the ground were already sprouting. Tiny green shoots pushed their way through the soil, growing at an unnatural pace. Within moments, delicate leaves unfurled, and small buds began to form.
Ryden and Darius turned, their eyes widening at the sight.
"Well, looks like someone's jealous," Rice muttered, crossing his arms as he watched the plants continue to grow. "Guess even the seeds know who the real star is here."
The stone birds Ryden had carved weren't finished surprising them. As they fluttered around, their chirping became more animated, as though they were excited—or annoyed. One by one, they flew toward the solitary tree under which the group had been resting, landing on its branches.
Their presence seemed to disturb something, as the tree began to shake slightly. Leaves rustled, and a few more angry chirps echoed from above. The three men froze, their eyes darting upward in confusion.
"Uh, guys?" Darius muttered.
Before anyone could respond, a flurry of movement erupted from the tree. With a sharp gasp, a small figure tumbled through the branches, landing in an ungraceful heap at the base of the trunk.
The child groaned softly, rubbing her head as she sat up. She couldn't have been older than ten, with long, silver hair that shimmered faintly in the sunlight, cascading in waves down her back. Her bright green eyes, wide and filled with confusion, darted around as though trying to make sense of her sudden fall. Her skin was pale, with a slight flush from the tumble, and she wore a simple tunic made of patched cloth, the colors of earth and moss blending with the plains around her.
The stone bird that Ryden had carved swooped down from the tree, chirping proudly as it landed on his shoulder. Its chest puffed out as if it had just accomplished something great.
"Great," Ryden muttered, raising an eyebrow at the bird. "I carve you, and now you're dropping kids out of trees?"
The girl blinked, rubbing her eyes as though expecting the scene before her to disappear. But as her vision cleared, the first thing she saw was Rice—and he was already crouched down in front of her, his face inches from hers.
Rice threw his arms out wide in a dramatic gesture, a broad grin plastered on his face. "WE COME IN PEACE!" he declared loudly, his tone both welcoming and ridiculous.
The girl's eyes widened in terror. Letting out a shrill scream, she reflexively kicked out with surprising force.
Her foot connected squarely with Rice's "family jewels", his "little brother from down under"
Rice's smile vanished instantly, replaced by a wide-eyed expression of pure agony. He let out a strangled noise somewhere between a squeak and a groan, his hands flying to the affected area as he staggered backward.
"You guys… you guys take care of this one," he managed to wheeze, hobbling away with unsteady steps. He collapsed a few feet away, rolling onto his back and muttering, "Why does this always happen to me…"
Moments later, he lay still, one arm draped over his face as though surrendering to the universe itself.
Darius and Ryden, meanwhile, stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what had just happened.
"Did she just…" Ryden began, but Darius held up a hand. "Don't," he said, shaking his head.
The girl, still sitting on the ground, looked at Rice's retreating figure with a mix of fear and guilt. Her wide green eyes then flicked to Darius and Ryden, who immediately stepped back to appear less intimidating.
Ryden crouched down slowly, his tone gentle. "Hey, it's okay. We're not here to hurt you or anything. My friend over there"—he motioned toward Rice, who groaned pitifully in the distance—"just doesn't understand personal space."
The girl didn't respond at first, her hands clutching the hem of her tunic. The stone bird on Ryden's shoulder chirped again, this time softer, as if trying to reassure her.
Darius, ever pragmatic, crossed his arms and gave Ryden a pointed look. "We should probably figure out who she is. And why she's up in a tree in the middle of nowhere."
Ryden's gentle expression softened further as he repeated the question. "What's your name?"
The girl hesitated, clutching the hem of her tunic with trembling fingers. Finally, in a voice so small it was barely audible, she murmured, "Lucy."
"Lucy, huh?" Ryden said, his tone light and reassuring. He gave her a soft smile. "That's a good name. Strong. It suits you."
Lucy didn't reply but looked down, her silver hair falling forward like a curtain to shield her face. Ryden stayed crouched, not pressing her, while Darius quietly began gathering firewood a few feet away, preparing to camp for the night.
The girl still looked uncertain, but the warmth in Ryden's tone—and the gentle chirping of the stone bird—seemed to ease some of her tension.
In the background, Rice muttered weakly, "She's dangerous. Keep her away from me…" before dramatically throwing an arm over his face again.