Chapter 3 – Hunt (Swamp of the Water Mirror)
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Sadro rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn, getting up and scratching his back; the woman stared at him, not moving. He lighted the fire and heated the soup. 

-Pss, you awake? 

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow; looking at her big eyes, he smiled faintly and said some unrelated stuff before the two finished breakfast. 

-About my research, I want to study the architecture of the creations that live here. “What for”, a dedicated student would ask. Well... – he craned his neck forward and looked right and left, cooping his hand close to his mouth and whispering to her ear – I think. I am close to discovering how to make creations. 

Sadro stared at her, serious. She blinked. 

-Awesome! Right? - his eyes moved to an upper corner as he sighed contentedly - anyway, I’ll lead you to the birds’ nest, you just have to bring one to me, and... Preferably dead. 

He wrapped the flower around a twig and lighted the way. Carefully they stepped on the uneven ground, rotten wood and pointy twigs, a mantle of dead foliage hiding sharp rocks and animal bones, stuck and cemented by nature. Worms crawled underneath, snakes moved without slithering, and small fish swam silently, eating the dead vegetation above water.

A long time passed to cover a short distance, and foul odor invaded their nostrils. Sadro walked ahead, giving her the light, and got down on his knees; squishing noises ensued. With a swipe, he plastered a dark substance on his face, picked some more, and spread it on clothes. 

-It’s their waste, to cover our smell – he whispered – your turn. 

The woman passed him the light and bent her legs; she scratched her nose as her eyelids drooped, looking down and repeating his actions. 

-Their nest is across the swamp. If you hear popping water, it’s them, but if you hear the rustling of leaves from above, you better run for your life – he tapped her shoulder and turned away. 

Making another light, she walked by the margin and circled to the opposite side. A steep incline barred her way, she hugged a tree root and scaled; whoosh, she threw herself to a low branch, pirouetted and flung her body to another tree. On the top, she slid through a root and crashed on the muddy water with a plop. 

Frozen still, she waited; nothing happened. 

The woman rummaged through her pockets, picked some scarlet roses, and plucked their petals; blowing, she spread them all over, lighting the surface of the water. Squinting her eyes, she observed the farthest petal as it stumbled; upon reaching a similar distance, many of them traversed no further. 

Behind her, a big cluster of mud and flattened tree barks; inserted into it, spheres the size of her head, partitioned in hexagonal protrusions. Rough and bumpy, she failed to fit an intact one inside her pouch; at one point her hand brushed against a ringed cylinder, and from above came a thundering yelp that crept through her skin and shook all the leaves, dampening the petals’ shine. 

Distant yelps pierced the stagnated air, popping sounds and water splashes on her way. She held the cylinder, it rose on an arc and propelled her; cushioned by leaves and puncturing branches, the impetus lessened until she stood still. Another whoosh; she tumbled forward, avoiding three sharp phalanges and plunging back down. The giant feet blasted the lake’s surface, she jumped to a tree as a wave of water whipped the back of her head; roots crushed and soil removed, the trees toppled down in sequence as she kept moving from one to another. 

Settled on a high branch, two objects bolted past her head, she ducked and heard a pained yelp from the beast, followed by a big spurt of vermillion blood that set the surroundings alight; trees and soil burnt, from the mud rose water vapor. Its feet sunk deep inside the soil, the leg a pole black as charcoal; rocks for feathers and stone on its head, pale flesh beneath. The smaller ones were as tall as the ceiling.

Behind the woman, shadows quickly traversed the branches, throwing rope attached wooden spears; she ate bugs and plants on the side. The shadows mumbled incoherent speech while cornering the biggest bird, jumping to different branches, on sync with its feet; the other birds craned their long necks towards the nest, swallowed the eggs, and ran away. Weathering many injuries, the thing's horrid cries shook the trees, she boxed her ears and slid down, running away. 

The feathery leaves caught on fire, those that didn’t jump away from them melted, naught but sizzling puddles; the beast swirled and fell, its blood evaporating the lake before cooling down, hardening. Silence reigned once more. The woman found a big tree to stay, killing the snake that there lived; chew the flesh, drink the blood, she closed her eyes and rested. 

Returning, she approached the beast’s remains, muffled steps on stiff soil. From its corpse missing chunks of meat, the headstone was cracked open, and behind its layer a pumping barrier of flesh; she took out the charred tome. On the first page, an eyeless bird with a flat beak; on its back, a row of stones, mud, and small trees, roots deeply set. The image shifted, its stiff members moving robotically, leg up higher than its head, neck lower than its bottom. 

NaobiA creation of Imanus, God of Life, modeled after the naturally occurring geese and wild chicken. The heart of a Naobi lies not inside its body, but the stone atop its head; once the creature perishes, the soul flies to the heart and it is reborn. Imanus meant for the Naobi to hide its heart where no predator could find it, but failed to notice that the weak newborn could not survive on its own, unable to carry its weight.

She spread more glowing petals and saw no remains of the fallen aggressors or the beast; her ears twitched and she bolted at the rustling of leaves. 

Hearing the crackling fire, Sadro fiddled with his foul-smelling soup, seeking the flame's warmth; sounded the crack of a twig and he snapped to the entrance, a spark in formation. A moment later, he dropped his guard.

-By the Gods, you scared me! 

Sadro lowered his hands, extinguishing the spell, and plopped on the tree root; another one, similar in shape and one inch smaller, lay next to him. 

The woman’s stomach growled. She patted her belly and furrowed her brows.

-Come here – he tapped the stool - It’s almost done. 

She sat on the stool and watched Sadro swirling the twig. He scooped a spoonful, her eyes following his every action, and sniffed at it; alternating between her eyes and the food, his mouth drew a perfectly straight line. 

-Ehem! So, any good news? 

The woman smiled, her eyes curving into crescents, and offered him half a dozen big stones; Sadro dropped the spoon and analyzed the findings. 

-Hmm... Cracked eggshells. Useful, probably... I mean, certainly... 

She looked him in the eye , head plopped on her hand. 

-It’s okay. Vainevel wasn’t built in a single day, we’ll get there. 

The following days, she explored the surroundings while hunting for small animals and plants to eat; the heart was no more, and whenever the leaves rustled, like a warning bell, she would return. At one point, the stink of Naobi’s waste wafted in the air, her nostrils flared and she approached it; pouting for a long time, she dug her nails into the gooey, fresh manure, and spread it on her body. 

The place was deeper into the swamp, water waist level deep, and the wide-area allowed a flicker of the blue light; two Naobi, heads up to the skies, stood on guard with their feet planted to the ground. None of them moved to either feed or rest, she snacked on insects as the day passed, uneventful; backtracking, she climbed the highest branch of a tree and there slept. 

Hours later, she woke up to the rustling of leaves.

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