A dense forest met a dark sky.

A woman leaned against a stone balcony of a palace. The palace itself was stone, painstakingly put in place by the roots of the Prophet over many, many years. The woman, who had chosen to call herself The Mage many years ago, had asked him why he didn't use wood to build the palace. He had told her that he did not want the denizens of this land to know the extent of his roots, nor did he want to control their perspective. By separating himself from them, he was making them his equals.

"I have eyes that see Beyond," he told her sternly. "I will not turn that invasive gaze upon my people."

Below her, The Mage could hear the voices of children laughing. The patio where the palace met the rest of the Prophet's hold was a place for playing, for joy. Even if most had never seen The Prophet in person, they all felt his love. He had made sure they had vines to climb up, roots to climb over and under, and trees to feed them. None would want for anything in this land, if he could help it. She admired that, though she saw him vomit over the side of the balcony more than once from overexertion. A ruler must eat too.

The Mage was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of wings flapping. She looked up and saw a tall figure, hovering slightly from the movement of his brown wings.

"There is no sign of the Bird," the tall figure said. His wings extended to make his landing smoother as he stepped onto the stone balcony.

The Mage sighed despondently. "That traitor."

The tall figure folded his wings behind his back. "She probably has it caged somewhere in her cavity. The Forgotten refuses to let me near. Every time I am close, it rips the hollow from my reach."

"Have you seen her pack of dogs?" The Mage asked.

"Only briefly. I saw the leader of the pack, around the outskirts of the Gray City. Ymir is what The Light called him. I assume The Shadow is there, but I cannot know for certain." The tall figure knelt down to The Mage. "Lieutenant, I am beyond apologetic for my failure in obtaining The Bird. I will accept the consequences."

The Mage put a hand on his shoulder. "Herald," she said, using his title. "I will not punish what is out of your control. And do not call me Lieutenant. We have spoken about this. Just refer to me as Mage."

The Herald looked up, golden eyes full of remorse and regret. "Thank you, dear Mage."

The Mage nodded, smiling softly. "You should visit your lover. He has been waiting for you."

The winged figure stood up, and The Mage could see his feathers bristle in excitement. "I shall do that. Thank you." The Mage watched the Herald enter the palace through the balcony doors, his previously stoic self making way for eagerness.

Trees rustled, and a vine curled around The Mage's hand. A voice in the back of her mind that is not hers whispered, "Do you honestly think we will find them?"

The Mage tilted her head back as though to hear better. "I do not have time for your doubts, Nymph."

"It is my sole purpose to doubt him," The Nymph whispered through the vine creeping up her arm. "I doubt his incessant fixation on that Bird. We will not find it."

"I would argue his fixation is not incessant. He governs this hollow well, and he keeps the land outside free of interlopers."

*"We are the ones who do that. Without us, he would be nothing."

The Mage had enough. She grabbed the vine and pulled, causing the voice in her mind to leave and a distant, male voice to yelp in pain. She glared in the direction of the voice, which had now been replaced by rustling as the trees gave way for a face with eyes that looked like white, blooming flowers.

"I will not tolerate this foolishness. You know he does more than any of us. This is his domain, after all. We are simply guests here. Do you want to roam the Forgotten again?! Have the frost consume your vines?!"

The Nymph said nothing, simply blinking at her with his strange, blooming eyes.

Wind blew The Mage's hair back. It was brown at the roots, pale at the ends, never growing or changing, just as she preferred. She was forever beautiful, like the forest and the mountains and the sky. She savored the feeling of the wind on her skin, gently nudging the water below her flesh and causing it to reverberate with joy.

Finally, The Mage spoke again. "We are safe here because of our actions, yes. Herald goes out into The Forgotten, and we tend to the grounds and their denizens. But the foundation was made by him, lest you forget that."

The Nymph rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. You win, Mage. Heavens and Hunters, you are a nightmare sometimes."

"I always have been." The Mage omitted the rest of that thought. I always have been, so he says.

The Mage went back inside, leaving The Nymph to his thoughts.

He stared at the dark sky.

The Prophet had told him about balls of fire in the sky that twinkled like gems. But here...here there were no such flames. There was no such light. Perhaps the light of the Beyond was the danger they had to protect themselves from.

Perhaps.

But it was the Nymph's job to doubt.