My efforts at strength training began to pay off. I felt stronger each day; I was able to eat larger portions of sustenance and more often. I filled my days with extensive hunts, lifting large rocks while soaring through the air, and learning from the creatures throughout the valleys. I explored new areas, and used tree limbs to hang from, lifting myself either by arm strength or I would hang from my legs and lift myself with a curling method. Summer was at its end, and the autumn colors rolled through the landscape. The green trees changed their colors to orange and red, and the rains lingered longer, casting a hazy mist during the mornings while I explored the valleys.

  While I became more proficient in my hunting skills and continued to increase my physical activities, I was in great competition with my personal goals. During my early years of training as a youngling, I was taught to only hunt twice my fill during the autumn months in preparation for the winter. Now, I had already made a drastic adjustment to my new routine and needed to realign my way of planning for the upcoming cold months. During the day, I was constantly changing the amount of food I consumed, depending on my mood, my energy levels, and what extra nourishment I could find in my adventures around the area. I ate fish every day, but sometimes I felt like looking for simple pleasures like berries or honey. Other times, when feeling adventurous, I hunted squirrels or followed them to their trees filled with edible nuts.

  Unlike before my shift of routine, my hunting trips were rarely fixed, save the fish from the river. I had changed so much of my routine that, by the time I recognized the autumn months had settled upon the province, I began to concern myself with my winter preparations. Before, I only focused on keeping up with my nourishment while staying up on the mountain summit. Now, I had my strength and energy levels to think about. For the first time, I began to worry about how I would complete my goals and keep up my progress over the winter. I was no longer just focusing on sustaining myself for survival but pursuing a vigorous goal of changing my way of life. My desire to build my strength and increase my stamina had changed every aspect of my way of life. I did not want to lose weight or my strength progress during the cold winter months. With all these changes, I realized that I would also need to adjust the way I survived the winter.

  “The only times you must gather more food than necessary is for the winter months,” my father once said while in my younger years of life-training. “But, since you are not exerting so much energy, you do not need to eat so much. Only bring what will suffice your needs for survival.”

  “How will I know how much I need?” my younger self asked.

  “You will learn over time. As you grow up, you will need a little more than the year before. Just continue to remember how much you eat every day and add a little more each year. Allow your instincts to guide you.”

  Instincts. The real Sage of our culture. We lived and survived on survival instincts. Anything else could prohibit us from learning from our internal teachers. Instincts and listening to the guidance of the Sage, which often reminded us to live only by such dispositions—anything else was irrelevant.

  Now, I faced a new dilemma: I was allowing myself to be guided by emotions. I was following something completely different than I was ever taught and utterly against my original teachings. When I had first met Lillie, I simply thought there was no harm in meeting with her nor could be swayed to change my life, necessarily. Oh, how wrong I was.

  I had no real idea where having met Lillie could lead me, other than the pursuit of happiness and freedom. I had my instincts to survive; now I was being led by my heart to a whole new world no one had ever prepared me for. There were no Sage to guide me in tradition. I thought at times that perhaps I was crazy. However, all I had to do was think about Lillie, the warmth she brought me, and compare that to my cold, solitary life. If I was insane for trying to live a different life than the others, then yes, I was crazy.

  When I met Lillie four years ago, my life changed. I cannot fathom the idea of never knowing what I know now.

  No one on the mountain ever made me feel excited, motivated, or desire. How could they? Sometimes, in passing, I’d see the others fly to their summit home and I would wave or attempt to greet them, and they would simply scoff. The Teraganes in my colony were as cold as the snow piling on the ridges. On the other hand, Lillie’s presence in my life created wonderful sensations. These feelings for Lillie were enough to embark on the crazy adventure of finding a new way of life for myself. I knew that it was different, that the others would not agree if I ever explained anything to them, but I truly did not care what others thought—not anymore.

  My life on the mountain, even within my colony, was isolated, set apart from my peers—my people. I didn’t even know anything about their lives outside of the expected traditional way of life, except for Cami—yet even that was severely limited. I would not have known anything different if it were not for Lillie in the first place. With Lillie, I knew something far different, far grander than I could have ever experienced with my own people. I knew what real friendship felt like and what it looked like. I felt a true sense of warmth, comfort, and appreciation. I was not ready to lose that nor let it just fade away like the changing colors of the leaves.

  If I could help restore Lillie’s life outside of the forest and secure a happy future for her, then we could live the life we both wanted, far from our traditional ways of life that were set up by others and their old customs. We could do away with unsatisfactory outcomes and unpleasant experiences, and we could spend every day together. Such an idea thrilled me—seeing Lillie every day. I wanted a life worthy of satisfaction. A life where I could enjoy every moment with excitement and curiosities and something I could look forward to every day, not just every full moon. Creating such a life seemed easy for me to think about, but as I put the work into myself every day, it also became easier to create on my own.

  But, most of all, I wanted to live my life with Lillie, either in the meadow, in the trees, or wherever she desired. I didn’t know what would happen or how others would respond, but if I could establish a happy life, then why would it matter? I was responsible for myself, no one could make that choice for me. Lillie was obviously distraught about her life and relied heavily on doing work for others to sustain herself in her advanced society. If I could allow her to break free from it all and provide for her, then I could free her from the burdens weighing her down. As long as I was with Lillie and she was happy, then I would be satisfied with my life. That was all that mattered in those moments of childish innocence. How blissful once’s innocence is when they have no concept outside of their small reality.

  ***

  “What are you doing?” I heard a voice say. I was examining a large branch near the river, my common spot to fish and watch the bears. I had the idea of installing large, sturdy branches in my home to help with my training during my isolated time on the mountain. My friend Cami unexpectedly asked me the question. I twirled around, unaware that he was behind me. He was observing me, his thick brown eyebrows slightly raised while his arms were crossed.

  “I am—” my voice broke, for, I did not know how to explain anything to him, causing us to stand in silence for a moment. Then, I grunted while asking, “What are you doing here?” Cami’s eyes darted as he began adjusting his curly, brown hair, and I realized how unusual it was for Cami to visit me unexpectedly. Rarely did I stumble upon others within the valleys since choosing our own territories, at least, not since I was younger and first finding an enclave. If I wanted to seek out Cami, I usually would fly to his home. Yet even that seemed less acceptable as I grew older and often met with a disgruntled attitude. After inviting him and the others to watch the bears, I felt apprehensive to seek anyone else out again.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “I’m sorry,” Cami replied as he stepped back. “I know this is your enclave.”

  “It’s okay,” I assured him. “I’m happy to see you. Just surprised.”

  “I had remembered that day we watched the bears,” Cami said while his eyes drifted behind me. “I thought about it and came here—spontaneously.”

  “Really?” Cami continued to look around, obviously uncomfortable with this new idea of being spontaneous. His curly brown hair bounced as the wind blew. He kept it neatly groomed around his narrow face and slightly longer in the back, and I noticed his brown skin was lighter than my own. I spent more time in the sun, I assumed, causing my skin to deepen over the summer. He wore a similar tunic and woolen trouser, like all the others, but he also wore also a Sage-ceremonial necklace made of bones and a red scarf. He was slightly taller than me, but very thin—had he gotten even thinner?

  Most of us Teraganes were tall and had black hair, from what I could remember of the others. However, I noticed that Cami was the only one with brown hair, similar to Lillie’s when I had first met her. He was looking around with his narrow brown eyes, but then glancing at me for a moment. I could only imagine his thoughts as he examined me. The last time I had seen Cami was earlier in the summer months, and I wondered if he had noticed my physical changes.

  “Are you preparing well for the winter?” he finally asked while adjusting a crimson red scarf around his neck. I had never seen him wear it before, and for some reason it looked familiar, but I turned my attention away from my mysterious friend.

  “Yes, in fact, I am preparing a lot more than usual,” I replied, and picked up the branch and examined it once again. It was sturdy, thick, and could be useful for furthering my training.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to get stronger.”

  “You look stronger.”

  “I guess I was inspired by the bears. I want to be strong like them.” I smiled and put the thick stick down in a pile of other branches. Cami raised his eyebrows again. I sensed his curiosity being held back by his logical reasoning, yet, surprisingly, he did not lecture me nor scoff as usual.

  “The fish are plenty,” I said and beckoned for him to join me in the river. His eyes darted and he quickly looked over his shoulder and up in the sky. Then, accepting that there were no prying nor judgmental eyes to see us, he followed me up the river. We caught some fish together and then returned to sit on the grassy riverbank to eat our fresh meal. Cami did not ask me any more questions nor lecture me, to my surprise. Maybe he was curious—maybe bored. I enjoyed his presence, even if we sat quietly without speaking, and he expressed only a stoic expression, yet one of many internal thoughts. I gathered a satchel full of fish to carry back home up to the mountain and picked a few berries from a bush near the river.

  “During the winter months, would you like to visit me?” I asked Cami before we departed our separate ways. Our homes were in proximity—in the same neighborhood—and the flight path was passable, if the winter weather conditions were decent. I had never left to visit another before, and my heart raced while I anticipated his answer.

  “I—uh. I’m not sure that’s—” Cami’s voice trailed as he looked off into the distance with slow moving eyes. Again, he looked over his shoulder, then up in the sky, then focused on the trees again, and his wings twitched nervously.

  “Well, I know you fly with the Sage during the rituals, visiting the others,” I said. “I don’t see much of a difference if you just came to visit when the weather permitted. Would be nice to have some company. You can think about it first. I just wanted to give you an open invitation if you get bored.”

  “Life can never be boring for you, can it?” Cami said while shaking his head, and his wings seemed to relax. He looked back at me, the wind rustling his curly hair around his face. He brushed through his hair with his slender fingers, keeping it from becoming too tangled, and I noticed that his crimson scarf wrapped loosely around his neck reflected a warm complexion on his face. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay.” I grinned, then began gathering my items to carry back home. Cami sat perched on the riverbank, contemplating my invitation and, obviously, reasonable request. He stared at the moving water of the river, and his eyes darted back and forth as he continued combing through his hair while in deep thought. Although we spoke very little together, or even met outside of purposeful intentions, I was intrigued by Cami’s friendship over the years, thankful to have at least one friend from my colony.

  “Have a successful preparation for winter,” I said before leaving Cami alone with his thoughts and pointless grooming.

  ***

  As the winds began to plummet in temperature, so did that agonizing sinking feeling in my heart. Winter was approaching, which meant the unbearable isolation in the mountain and the halted visitations with Lillie in the meadow. I began to fantasize about flying from the mountain during blizzards to the meadow, just to be with Lillie. But I knew it was all just reckless ideas—even deadly.

  On the day of the full moon, I felt too anxious to wait until midday, as usual, to venture out to the meadow. I arrived early in the day, not caring if I waited half my time alone before Lillie would arrive. I would rather wait in the comfort of knowing that she could emerge from the dark forest at any moment than suffer in anticipation in my mountaintop home. The grass was tall, but the flowers had all gone to seed, and I began picking at the seeds, throwing them around. I put some in my mouth, only to spit them as far as I could, and began targeting the rocks with the grains. I began making a challenge for myself, extending my shots to further placed rocks, and ended up spitting as far as a large boulder located near the edge of the cliff, which helped ease the anxiety—for a short time, at least.

  When I couldn’t stand the bad taste of the seeds any longer, I shot over to the boulder and pushed it. It was massive and too heavy for me to carry, but I pushed regardless. My wings flapped, giving me extra strength. I could feel the tension in my legs as I braced myself securely, and the boulder began to budge. I angled myself better and gave a stronger push, this time moving it significantly. I could feel my nerves tingle with excitement. Energy rushed through my veins, and my head began to feel hot. I grunted, then shouted as I pushed harder. The circular boulder began to roll, and I could feel it catching speed. I pushed, and pushed, and pushed, blinded by adrenaline and fueled by power. The ground gave way, and I caught myself in the air, and the boulder plunged over the cliffside. I watched it roll down as far as I could see, until it disappeared into the forest darkness far below. I heard the crashing of trees and snapping branches, the flight of unsuspecting birds, and the fading of rustling sounds as I imagined the boulder rolling through the forest below. I slowly landed myself on the edge of the cliff, heavily breathing and sweat dripping. I felt a tantalizing sense of power as I lifted my hands and noticed the bulging veins running down my arms.

  “That was intense,” I heard Lillie’s voice say. I whipped around, angling my wings, causing a rush of air to wave through the tall grass. Lillie was standing nearby with a smirk on her face, and she raised her brows in repetition.

  “I uh—” I stuttered, still heavily breathing.

  “What did that rock ever do to you?” she teased as she tucked a long, white strand of hair behind her pointed ear.

  “I definitely did not like what it said about you,” I bantered back and wiped my sweaty forehead with my sleeve.

  “Oh? So, you’re defending my honor?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “Then the boulder deserved such a fate, served by none other than my honorable winged hero.”

  “And I would do it again if it ever returned to slander your name again.” I bowed dramatically, causing Lillie to giggle and she bowed too. She then turned around, whipping her loose, white hair, and she walked to the middle of the meadow. She had dropped her supplies in our usual spot but now returned to set up the blanket. Again, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and felt my rushing heart begin to settle. The cold air was pleasant on my face, but my exertion still profoundly affected my perspiration. It felt good. I felt powerful and quite happy that Lillie saw my act of strength. My cheeks felt warm, but not from my exertion but rather from a feeling of delight.

  I’m so glad she saw how strong I am. It will make it easier to convince her that I’m strong enough to protect her when I ask her to leave her home to be with me.

  Because, yes, that was all I needed to be for her—or so my little innocent heart believed.