Salmu stood, gazing at the sunrise. She could see the rays of light edging over the cliffs sprawling in the distance, flocking with various winged creatures who made their home there.

Behind her, she could hear muffled voices and footsteps as her family began to stir and get ready for the new day.

A flurry of footsteps ran towards Salmu and gently grabbed her hand.

Salmu looked down to see Herlon standing beside her, his small, frail hand in hers. They exchanged a glance before continuing to gaze at the sunset.

This was what Salmu especially loved about Herlon. Her little brother was kind, gentle and loved to watch the sunset with her, something Erlun would never do, as he wasn't a morning person.

As the sun cleared the cliffs and its full rays hit their home, Erlun stumbled out of their little home, rubbing his eyes.

“That time already? What are we doing today?” He mumbled.

Herlon held up a list. “Um, Erlun, I would tell you but someone keeps forgetting we can't read…”

They all sighed.

“Alright, I'll go ask him what it says…” Salmu said.

She ducked her head in the small doorway and approached her brother, sitting comfortably in the corner with a book in his hands.

The second child of the family, Sendrin, was an unusual case - a bookworm.

Having somehow taught himself to read with the help of their father, Sendrin loved to bury himself in his books - even more so after their father disappeared and was proclaimed dead.

He loved botany especially, although rarely leaving the house to observe plants himself, likely due to the overwhelming risk factors to do so.

Still, if you had an ailment, Sendrin would definitely know a helpful herbal remedy. Maybe he could be a doctor in some different universe.

The only problem with Sendrin’s literacy is that he wrote lists. For people who couldn't read. That was his main flaw.

Salmu gave him a light kick, causing him to startle and almost drop the book.

He looked up at her with a disdainful expression.

“Oh dear sister, what may I help you with today?” He said, earning himself another kick.

Salmu held up the list. “Please translate this written nonsense to me, otherwise I'm afraid me and our two little brothers won't be able to do any jobs - unless you want me to bother mother for them?”

Sendrin held the list closer to his face. “You're to bring water to the sheep, pick up any deceased sheep you see on the way, and try to drive the Falcyr out of the field - we've received complaints from the soldiers about its presence “contaminating the livestock”.”

Salmu rolled up the list and tossed it to him.

“Next time, draw me a list with… what's the word… ill… illutratins? And… biagrams?”

Sendrin shook his head and put the list to the side. “It's illustrations and diagrams, you uneducated buffoon.”

Salmu laughed and gave him another light kick.

“That's not even an insult, we all are!”

She walked towards the door, forgetting to duck, and hit the low hanging empty door frame.

She scowled as she heard Sendrin laughing in the background. “Someone's in good spirits.”

Erlun and Herlon were sitting under the shade of a scraggly tree outside their home. She gave them a quick rundown of the instructions and they got to work, hauling buckets loaded with water to the sheep pen, Salmu hopping over the fence and getting the buckets handed to her by Erlun.

Then came the Falcyr problem.

Giving Erlun and Herlon a lift over the fence, they debated their next course of action.

“That one's got a spiked tail… should we try to spook it from behind, it'll probably just slice through our face.”

The Falcyr grazed peacefully, obviously oblivious to the conversation surrounding it.

Its short beak and hard, plated head with curled horns and the large, smooth scales that covered the upper half of its body shone. Its majestic, graceful figure with small sharp claws and thin legs was illuminated in the midday sun.

“They're quite beautiful, aren't they?” Salmu said, earning a murmur of agreement from her brothers.

“Unfortunately a pain to deal with, especially with this one's temper.” Erlun muttered.

“Well, we've got to come up with something.” Herlon said. “Otherwise it might just end up getting killed by the soldiers, which it in no way deserves.”

“Honestly I don't see what problem it causes by staying where it is. It's happy to graze and doesn't even take food from the sheep.” Salmu said.

“I could help you out with that, lads.” Came a voice from behind them.

They spun around to see a cloaked figure behind them, leaning on the fence. A mask covered their mouth, and they wore gloves on their hands.

“Nice Falcyr, hm? Could take it off your hands.” The cloaked figure said.

“And how exactly do you plan to do so?” Erlun retorted.

“I've got my tricks. Want to see?” The seemingly eccentric person leaped over the fence and landed lightly on the other side.

“Umm… sure…” Erlun replied uncertainly.

The eccentric faced away from them, lowered their mask, whipped out a flute and raised it to their lips.

A beautiful, mesmerising sound began pouring out of the flute. Its sound seemed to stir the very essence of Salmu’s soul, making her heart wave and shake with the rhythm. The sheep in the field stood motionless and didn't stir an inch.

The Falcyr seemed affected too. It raised it's head and gazed quietly at the eccentric, who began approaching it. The Falcyr didn't stir an inch. Its gaze was glued to the flute, even as the eccentric slowly slid their hand down its smooth face. They turned, and lowered the flute.

“I'll be taking this one, if you don't mind? Good fellow, he is!”

The Falcyr stood silently, head bowed, unblinking and bewitched. Salmu felt a stir of fear in her stomach. Is that what she had felt? The influence the eccentric’s flute had?

Then she realised the eccentric had left their mask down. 

Instead of a normal, human mouth with normal teeth and pink gums, the eccentric's mouth was wide, reaching to the edges of their jawbone, curved upwards in a faint smile. Their mouth wasn't a perfect line either - it was a squiggle, with their flesh and lips dripping down, some attached to both sides of their mouth. Their gum was a deep purple-grey, their tongue long and sharp, their skin a pale grey.

Salmu startled on her position by the fence. Her brothers were silent and didn't move. She turned to them, only to see their eyes cloudy and unmoving.

Salmu turned. The eccentric stood before her.

“Was talking to you, young miss.” They towered over her, and she unwillingly made eye contact before having the chance to look away.

She was trapped. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. Everything was dark. She felt a stabbing pain to her side.

And then, just like that, she could see again.

The eccentric was still standing before her, with piercingly purple eyes with slit pupils.

“So you aren't completely immune, huh? Wonder what you saw there. Got you pretty shaken.” They crouched down to look Salmu in the face, but closed their eyes.

“Sorry, you know what they say - curiosity killed the Deepfolk. Well, they generally say curiosity killed the cat, but I say curiosity killed the Deepfolk. Just my own little spin.” They turned their head slightly.

“Sorry, spoke too much? Habit of mine. Hold on, I'll stop talking. Do tell me, little Flameborn.”

Salmu took a deep, shaky breath.

“What are you? How did you do that?”

The eccentric sighed. “Always the same question. I'm a Deepfolk! Or the, you could say. Pointy ears, scary eyes that give people all sorts of nasty visions, singing or musical ability to bewitch animals, pale skin, toxic saliva, gosh it's too much to recall…” They tapped the side of their forehead.

“Hmm… How old am I now..?”

Salmu staggered, snapping the eccentric “Deepfolk” out of their thoughts.

“You good buddy? Wait, are we close enough for such friendly terms? I don't even know you…” They stopped as Salmu fell to her knees.

“Oh crap.”

Oh crap was right. Salmu unceremoniously threw up the small amount of food in her stomach onto the dry grass.

The Falcyr, having begun to approach, stopped, deterred by the stench, perhaps.

She gasped for breath, her throat burning.

“What… did you do to me?”

The eccentric sighed and tapped their foot.

“I guess you could call it information overload. I just don't know when to stop talking.”

“How… do you exist? You're not human, but you act like one…” Salmu sat up slowly, recovering from her lovely experience emptying her bowels minutes before.

To this question, the eccentric's face tightened with a slight frown. “How do I exist? At least my ancestors spent time evolving, unlike yours! Just poof! fire powers! for ye lot!”

Salmu coughed. “What do you mean, fire powers?”

The eccentric laughed. “Seriously? It's easy to tell! Little miss, you're a Flameborn.”