Chapter Text
We were once a flame, vast enough, bright enough, warm enough to sustain hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands of our kind. Our fire brought life to the cold, unyielding world we call home.
Nibel was, and still is, the forest of peace and serenity, a land cradled in light, teeming with life, and watched over by those close to the beating heart of the forest, the place where I reside. The Spirit Tree, the Spirit Oak of Nibel…
But where there is light, there must also be shadow. Life is not complete without its counterpart, its dark twin: death, darkness… shadows.
To escape the bitter coldness the planet bears down upon us, we must fight it with its opposite… warmth. A fire fueled by will. A fire vast enough to ignite hope and light for the world.
We Spirits are unique creatures, born with flesh, light, and energy. Yet, our light is not meant to stand alone.
We share this world with others. Creatures who walk in the dark. Though it is possible to coexist with such mirrors of ourselves, it is no simple task. Trust is a fragile thing between light and shadow, a bond easier spoken of than forged.
Here in Nibel, however, we achieved something close to it. For countless ages, the balance endured, and life flowed smoothly, like a river carving a perfect, unbroken path.
But all rivers meet their rapids, their falls. And so, it came to pass that one fateful, dreadful night shattered our peace forever.
A great owl from the dark descended upon us, a towering shadow with talons sharp as despair itself. It attacked the heart of our forest, the core of our kind. What followed was a massacre.
Many Spirits fell that night, their light snuffed out like candles caught in a storm. Many more were wounded, their flames reduced to embers. It was a slaughter, a bloodbath… a nightmare etched into the roots of our world.
And as the final strands of hope unraveled, she tore from me what was most precious. She stole the very eye of the forest, Sein, ripping it from my core and casting it away like a broken thing.
Now, I am but a shadow of what I once was, a hollow tree, my light fading with each passing moment. And the forest, our home… is dying with me, its warmth reduced to fragile embers struggling against the cold.
That is where you come in, my child. With what remains of my strength, I place my final embers in your hands. You must carry the will of the forest. You must rekindle the fire, a fire fierce enough to banish the cold, to bring hope back to the darkened woods, and to restore the balance that once was.
Only you can do this. You, with a soul brave enough to dare the impossible. You, with a heart filled with kindness and humility.
You may not remember me, or even know my voice. Perhaps you have never seen another of your kind, nor felt the presence of the Spirits who once filled these lands.
But your story, too, began on a night of storm and sorrow, the night you were carried to the mother who loved you so deeply and away from me…
She, too, gave all that she could, until her flame faded and she bid you farewell.
Orphaned once more, you left behind the only home you had ever known. Did you leave to seek help? Or was it answers you sought? Even I do not know.
Unlike the others, your life has never been influenced by me. And that, Ori, is what makes you different. That is what makes you special…
I entrust in you, Ori…
With my final embers…
To find the fire…
… And bring back the warmth we once had.
…
…
…
A low, muffled groan escapes Ori’s lips. "Mmmmhh…" His eyes flutter open, but his vision swims in a haze of shadows, the world around him a blurry swirl of shapes.
He’s lying on his side, the cool dampness of the ground seeping into his fur. A faint voice lingers in his mind, distant and fractured, like the last notes of a fading melody.
“Uuuggh…” Ori groans, his small frame trembling as he presses his palms against the earth and pushes himself onto his knees.
The grassy floor beneath him sways gently, the slender blades brushing against his fingertips like soft, cool threads.
His breath comes in shallow gasps as he stares down at the ground, watching tiny droplets of dew scatter across his fur.
Ori lifts a trembling hand to his head, covering one eye. “...Hurgh…” Another groan rises from his throat, his voice cracked and weak.
He sways slightly, the world tilting around him, but he steadies himself just enough to sit upright.
“... What… happened…” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes scan the forest, its emptiness pressing down on him.
Shadows stretch long and thin between the trees, and the silence feels deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of unseen leaves. It’s not just empty… it’s hollow, as though life itself has retreated.
With a shaky breath, Ori pushes himself to his feet, his hooves wobbling on the uneven ground.
But just as he begins to steady himself, a sharp, searing pain explodes in the center of his chest. “Argh!” The cry bursts from his lips as his knees buckle, and he collapses back onto the ground.
His hand flies instinctively to his chest, clutching at the source of the pain as though trying to smother it.
He gasps for air, his vision swimming, but after a few ragged breaths, he grits his teeth and forces himself back to his hooves. He sways unsteadily but refuses to fall again.
Ori presses a hand firmly over his chest, his breaths coming in slow, deliberate gulps. The pain begins to ebb, but a faint warmth lingers beneath his palm, radiating outward like a tiny ember.
Slowly, he removes his hand, his eyes widening as he notices something strange… a soft, red glow emanating from the center of his chest.
“... Huh…” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. There, nestled in his fur, is a faint red swirl, shaped like a droplet of water.
The faint glow of the red marking begins to dim, flickering softly before fading completely, as if the light has been absorbed into his skin.
Now, the mark rests on his chest like a mysterious brand, its swirling shape as still as a whisper left unspoken.
Ori blinks slowly, his large, glowing eyes lifting to the world before him. Above, the night sky stretches endlessly, a sea of deep indigo scattered with stars that shimmer like shards of crystal.
A soft gust of wind stirs the stillness, sweeping through the open field where Ori stands.
The blades of grass ripple like waves, and clusters of white, luminescent flowers bend and sway, their glow flickering gently as if alive.
The wind brushes against Ori’s fur, cool and weightless, tugging at his tail and ruffling the edges of his large ears.
The world feels alive in its stillness, yet somehow fragile, as though balanced on the edge of something unseen.
A few fragmented words echo in his mind, faint but persistent, like the remnants of a dream slipping through his fingers "Bring back the warmth we once had…” The voice is soft, ancient, and filled with a quiet sorrow that tugs at Ori’s heart.
He closes his eyes, pressing a hand to the side of his head as if to steady himself. “...Hhhh…” A soft sigh escapes him, part exhaustion, part unease.
“...Bring back the warmth we once had…?” he murmurs, the words rolling off his tongue as though testing their weight. The phrase feels both distant and urgent, a puzzle he doesn’t yet understand.
A strange, unexplainable pull tugs at Ori’s attention, and he turns his gaze to the right. There, towering in the distance, stands a tree unlike any other.
Its trunk is vast and ancient, its bark shimmering faintly with veins of light that pulse like a heartbeat. The branches stretch high into the night, their tips glowing faintly as if catching the light of the stars themselves.
Ori’s eyes drift downward, drawn to a path of white, luminescent flowers stretching from his feet all the way to the base of the great tree.
The flowers seem to hum faintly with their own light, creating a soft, glowing river that beckons him forward. Ori takes a hesitant step closer, his chest tightening with a mixture of wonder and trepidation.
Just as Ori lifts his foot to take a step, a cold shiver races down his spine. The air around him seems to shift, growing heavier, and an eerie prickle settles between his shoulders.
It’s the unmistakable feeling of being watched. His ears twitch as he freezes in place, his wide eyes scanning the field nervously. The wind has stilled, and the flowers no longer sway.
The silence presses in on him, thick and suffocating, as though the forest itself is holding its breath.
Ori turns his head sharply, his gaze darting from shadow to shadow. His heart pounds in his chest as he spins around, scanning the empty field with hurried, fearful glances.
A bone-chilling, ear-piercing screech splits the silence, slicing through the stillness of the night like a blade. The sound reverberates across the field, sending a shiver racing down Ori’s spine.
Before he can process the source of the noise, a powerful gust of wind explodes through the meadow, bending the grass and luminous flowers.
Ori stumbles forward, his small frame struggling to stay upright as his fur whips wildly in the gale.
His wide eyes dart toward the colossal tree in the distance. Above it, the dark, swirling clouds churn violently, and then he sees it, a massive owl emerging from the shadows, its wings cutting through the night like razors.
Ori freezes in place, his entire body rigid with fear. His breath catches in his throat as his glowing eyes stay locked on the immense bird.
The owl’s size is staggering, its wingspan easily spanning the width of a small clearing, each flap creating ripples of wind that disturb the forest below.
Its feathers are as black as the void, flecked with streaks of violet that shimmer faintly in the starlight. Yet the creature’s gaze is fixed elsewhere, its glowing, eyes locked on the colossal tree ahead.
It doesn’t look down.
It doesn’t turn toward him.
“...Did… did it not see me?” Ori’s thoughts tumble chaotically through his mind, a mixture of disbelief and cold, unshakable dread.
With a jolt, Ori snaps out of his frozen state and scrambles to his feet, his legs trembling beneath him. “I have to get out of here… as soon as possible,” he mutters, his voice shaky and barely audible over the pounding of his heart.
His eyes dart in every direction, frantically searching for an escape, but the vast, open field offers no cover, no refuge. “But… to where?” he whispers, his breaths growing faster and more shallow.
His tail flicks nervously as his gaze sweeps across the shadowy expanse, the weight of the owl’s presence pressing heavily on his thoughts.
A flicker of movement catches Ori’s eye, and his body tenses instantly. His ears swivel toward the disturbance, and his heart leaps into his throat.
His gaze snaps upward, and for a brief, terrifying moment, he expects to see the owl circling back, its talons poised to strike.
But instead, it’s… a leaf. A single, golden leaf, spinning lazily as it drifts down from the unseen canopy above.
Ori exhales sharply, his chest heaving with relief as the tension in his muscles eases. “...It’s just a leaf,” he mutters under his breath, his voice tinged with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering fear.
The leaf doesn’t fall straight to the ground. Instead, it twirls softly in the air, caught in an unseen current that seems to guide its path.
It drifts in a slow circle around Ori, its golden edges catching the faint light of his body. Ori’s eyes follow its gentle, deliberate motion, his fear momentarily replaced by a strange sense of calm.
The leaf hovers for a moment in front of him, then drifts toward the northwest, its movements unhurried yet purposeful.
Ori stares after it, a peculiar sensation stirring in his chest, a quiet, inexplicable pull, as though the forest itself is nudging him forward.
Ori’s gaze lingers on the spot where the golden leaf rests, its faint glow still visible in the dim light.
He doesn’t know why, but somehow, he trusts it. The path he needs to take, the one the leaf seems to show him lies in that direction.
Ori casts one final glance around the open field, his eyes scanning the swaying grass and pale flowers.
His ears twitch, catching faint whispers of the wind that offer no answers. Swallowing his fear, Ori takes a single step, then another, before breaking into a sprint.
The golden leaf’s direction is clear, and without looking back, he races toward it, his small frame cutting through the darkened meadow.
The dark forest looms ahead, its towering trees casting jagged shadows that stretch across the ground like claws.
Ori dashes between them, his movements swift and fluid, his hooves barely making a sound against the soft, mossy earth.
The rustling of the wind follows him, weaving through the bushes and shaking the branches above. The faint glow of luminescent fungi clings to some of the trunks, casting eerie, pale light that flickers as Ori speeds past.
Shadows dance in his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t slow down. The forest feels alive, its quiet murmurings filling the air as though it’s watching his every step.
Ori’s breaths come faster the longer he runs, but exhaustion doesn’t find him. Instead, his body feels weightless. He feels as though he could run for hours, perhaps even forever, without slowing.
The path ahead seems to brighten as a sudden gust of wind sweeps through the trees. Ori skids slightly but keeps his balance, his ears flicking as he notices a flurry of yellow leaves spiraling through the air.
They seem to appear from nowhere, their golden hues glowing faintly as they twist and dance in the breeze. The leaves swirl past him, carried by the wind, as though urging him onward.
After what feels like endless running, the dense trees begin to thin, their looming silhouettes giving way to a softer, more open light.
Ori slows slightly as his eyes catch a glimpse of something ahead, a small clearing, untouched by the towering forest around it.
As Ori steps out from the dense trees, he now stands in a small, open field, the grass beneath his feet soft and damp with dew.
Ori’s breathing begins to steady. The stillness of the clearing is almost unnerving, the silence broken only by the faint chirping of distant insects.
Ori glances around the clearing, taking in its quiet, haunting simplicity. To his right, a small, weathered building sits tucked against the edge.
Its structure is worn and uneven, the soot-stained roof sagging slightly in the middle. Though abandoned, it bears the unmistakable signs of a blacksmith’s forge an anvil sits just outside.
But it’s what lies to his left that makes Ori pause. There, standing in solemn stillness, are a handful of wooden grave crosses. They lean slightly, their crude shapes carved by unsteady hands.
Ori’s gaze lingers on the grave crosses, and a deep ache wells up in his chest. The sight of them stirs memories, his adoptive mother, her kind eyes filled with love and sorrow.
The memory is vivid... He can still see her fading, still hear her soft, labored breaths as the world grew colder around him.
Ori shakes his head, forcing the memory away as he turns his attention back to the blacksmith. His gaze sweeps over the building, noting its empty doorframe.
“The door is missing…” he mutters softly, his voice barely breaking the silence. He hesitates for a moment before stepping forward, his movements slow and careful.
The faint creak of the wooden floor beneath his hooves echoes unnaturally in the quiet. “Hello…?” he calls out.
Ori steps further inside, his glowing eyes sweeping over the dark interior. Dust clings to every surface, though something catches his eye.
Against the far wall, arranged neatly on wooden racks, is a collection of weapons; swords, spears, and axes, their metal surfaces gleaming faintly in his light.
“...Wow…” Ori breathes, his voice filled with quiet wonder. He steps closer, his fingers hovering just above the hilt of a blade, though he doesn’t touch it.
“...Would it be bad if I took one?” he murmurs to himself, the question hanging in the air. He feels a strange mix of guilt and necessity, these weapons clearly belonged to someone once, but the forest’s dangers weighs on his mind.
“... I don’t have anything to defend myself with…” Ori murmurs, his paws fidget at his sides before rising to scratch the fur on the sides of his head.
“And running… running can’t always be my only option, either…” He lets out a soft, frustrated sigh, his glowing eyes glancing nervously around the abandoned forge.
“Argh… I guess… it’s better to have something to defend myself with… than just running all the time…” Ori mutters under his breath, his voice tinged with reluctant acceptance.
His gaze drifts back to the weapons lining the racks, their metallic surfaces catching the dim light in faint, flickering glimmers.
Swords of varying lengths, spears with sharp, gleaming tips, and sturdy wooden shields rest in neat rows. Ori’s chest tightens as he steps closer. He’s never held a weapon before, never even considered it.
“... Which one to choose…” Ori whispers, scratching his chin thoughtfully as his eyes dart over the array of weapons.
Before he can dwell on the question for long, a sudden, heavy gust of wind howls through the open door, its force rattling the windows and sending a sharp, eerie whistle through the abandoned forge.
Ori’s ears twitch at the sound, and his fur bristles instinctively. The temperature feels like it drops for a moment, the cries of the wind echoing like distant wails.
The wind tears through the room with wild abandon, kicking up a swirling storm of dust and debris. Loose papers and scraps of fabric are flung into the air, twisting and tumbling in chaotic spirals.
Smaller weapons rattle violently on their racks, a few clattering to the floor with sharp metallic clangs.
A rusted dagger is swept off a nearby table, spinning haphazardly before embedding itself in the wooden wall with a dull thud.
Ori dives to the ground, curling into himself as the chaotic wind rages on. He presses his paws over his head, his breaths shallow and panicked, until just as suddenly as it began the storm dies.
The room falls eerily silent, the air heavy and still, save for the faint creak of a loose shutter swaying in the aftermath.
Slowly, Ori uncurls and opens his eyes, blinking away the dust that stings them. His gaze shifts downward and there, lying just in front of him, is a blade resting in its scabbard.
But it’s no ordinary weapon. The scabbard is painted a pristine white, its surface smooth and unblemished, adorned with delicate golden flowers that shimmer faintly in the dim light.
Ori’s breath catches in his throat as he stares at it, a sense of awe and disbelief washing over him. It’s as if the weapon had been placed there deliberately, waiting for him.
Ori shifts himself into a sitting position, tucking his legs beneath him as his small paws reach out toward the blade. His fingers hover over it for a moment, as if hesitating to touch something so pristine.
Slowly, he grasps the weapon, lifting it carefully. The scabbard is as beautiful up close as it had seemed from afar, its white lacquered surface smooth and cool to the touch, the delicate golden flowers etched into it glinting faintly in his light.
His eyes drift to the hilt, wrapped neatly in white fabric with a diamond-patterned weave. Through the small diamond-shaped openings in the fabric, the polished wooden core of the hilt peeks through, dark and rich in color.
Ori holds the weapon in front of him, turning it slightly to admire the scabbard’s intricate detailing. With a tentative grip, he places one paw on the hilt and the other on the scabbard, trying to unsheathe the blade.
He pulls with a little force, but it doesn’t move. Furrowing his brow, he tightens his grip and tries again, using more strength this time, but the blade refuses to budge.
“...Okay…?” Ori mutters softly, his ears twitching in confusion. As the words leave his lips, a sudden chill runs down his spine, sending his fur bristling.
Ori suddenly feels something… an odd, light pressure against his arm. His glowing eyes dart downward, but there’s nothing there. He stares at his arm for a moment, confusion flickering across his face.
Then, he feels it again on his other arm. A faint, almost imperceptible sensation, like a soft touch or the trailing brush of wind.
“What…?” he whispers, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. He glances around, his heart racing as his gaze sweeps the empty space. There’s no one else here. The building is silent.
The room is empty, Ori knows this. He’s the only living thing here, yet the feeling remains. It’s not a presence he can see, but something… something he can sense.
The air seems to hum faintly around him, vibrating with a rhythm he can’t quite understand. Slowly, the pressure returns, this time on his hand.
It’s gentle, insistent, as though unseen fingers are guiding him. His paw shifts instinctively, moving back to the hilt. Ori doesn’t resist.
His breath catches in his throat as he realizes what’s happening… there’s something, or someone, urging him forward. The thought sends a shiver through him, but there’s a strange comfort in it too.
Ori’s paw settles firmly around the hilt, the fabric wrap soft yet steady beneath his grip. The invisible force shifts again, this time guiding his other paw toward the tsuba.
He hesitates, his heart racing, before letting his fingers rest gently against the cool metal. Taking a deep breath, he pushes lightly with his thumb against the tsuba. At first, nothing happens…
But then, with a soft, almost musical click, the blade releases from its scabbard. The sound reverberates in the quiet room, sharp and clear like the chime of a distant bell.
Ori slowly pulls the blade free, his light reflecting off of the polished steel. The weapon feels alive in his hands, its weight perfectly balanced, its surface etched with delicate golden patterns that seem to shimmer faintly in the dim light.
The blade is single-edged, its sleek surface tapering to a slight, elegant curve. A katana. Ori tilts it carefully, watching how his light catches on the steel, it’s unlike any metal he’s seen before.
It isn’t just reflective; it shimmers faintly with a subtle, otherworldly glow, as though a current of energy hums just beneath its surface.
Rising to his feet, Ori grips the hilt tightly with his paw and swings the blade experimentally. The motion feels smooth and effortless, the weapon cutting through the air with a faint whisper.
He takes another swing, then another, letting the blade arc through the confined space of the forge. Despite its size, the katana feels almost weightless in his hands, as though it moves with him rather than against him.
But then- clang! The blade slams into the stone wall with a sharp, jarring sound that echoes through the room.
Ori gasps, his fur bristling as he freezes mid-swing. His heart leaps into his throat as he lowers the katana, his glowing eyes fixed on the edge. “Oh no…” he mutters, his paws trembling slightly as he inspects the weapon.
To his amazement, the blade’s edge is completely unscathed, without a single scratch or dull spot. Its pristine surface still gleams as if it had never touched the wall at all.
Still marveling at the blade’s resilience, Ori lets out a quiet “Huh…” before carefully sliding it back into its scabbard.
He glances around the forge, his glowing eyes scanning the room for something, anything that might help him carry the weapon more easily.
The scabbard feels secure in his hands, but he knows he’ll need both of them free to climb or defend himself. His gaze sweeps over scattered tools, and the remnants of what once must have been a bustling workspace.
“There’s gotta be something I can use…” he mutters to himself, stepping cautiously over fallen debris.
His eyes catch on a piece of fabric lying half-buried under a pile of tools. Curious, Ori steps closer and picks it up, shaking it gently to clear away the dirt.
The cloth is surprisingly intact, its texture soft and smooth against his paws, almost like silk. It feels sturdy despite its delicate appearance, and as he runs his fingers over it, an idea begins to form.
Wrapping the fabric around his waist, Ori pulls it tight, looping it twice to secure it snugly against his frame.
He adjusts the folds until it feels firm but comfortable, then carefully slides the katana into the layered sash, the scabbard fitting neatly against his side.
He steps back and tests the fit, shifting his weight and moving his hips slightly to ensure it stays in place. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, improvised as it may be, the makeshift belt works just fine.
Ori steps out of the blacksmith, the cool night air brushing against his fur as he pauses to take in his surroundings.
His eyes drift instinctively to the right, drawn once more to the solemn row of graves. “Oh, no…” he whispers, his ears lowering slightly as he notices a few of the grave markers lying flat on the ground.
Ori jogs toward the graves. The soft earth gives slightly beneath his paws as he kneels beside the first fallen cross.
He lifts it gently, brushing dirt from its weathered surface before pressing it back into the ground until it feels secure.
As he approaches the final cross, his foot lands on something unexpectedly soft. He lifts his hoove and looks down, lying there, nestled in the grass, is a feather.
It’s large, sleek, and dark, its deep black hue shimmering faintly with an iridescent purple sheen.
Ori flinches, stumbling back as a jolt of fear shoots through him. His wide eyes remain fixed on the feather.
His ears swivel nervously as he slowly lifts his gaze to the sky, scanning the stars and darkened treetops for any sign of movement.
Nothing stirs above him. Ori exhales shakily, forcing himself to look away from the feather. He kneels once more, carefully placing the last grave cross upright.
With the crosses restored, Ori steps to the front of the graves and lowers himself onto his knees. The cool earth presses against his legs as he bows his head, his eyes closing in quiet reverence.
After a moment, Ori rises to his feet, brushing the dirt from his knees. His gaze lingers on the wooden grave crosses, his thoughts turning inward.
“... I should probably make one for Naru…” he murmurs softly. Turning toward the dense trees that loom at the edge of the clearing, Ori tilts his head slightly, as he considers his next move.
With no straight path ahead of him, Ori starts to wander the forest of dense trees aimlessly letting fate decide where it brings him.
As Ori continues walking, the dense canopy above him begins to thin, letting faint beams of moonlight filter through.
The once-clustered trees are now spaced farther apart, their trunks gnarled and twisted with age.
Though the air is still and quiet, there’s an unmistakable sense of decay. Many of the trees are withered, their bark peeling away in rough, curling strips, and the brittle remains of leaves crunch softly beneath Ori’s feet.
Yet, despite the signs of slow death, the forest holds an eerie kind of beauty. The way the sparse branches reach skyward, silhouetted against the darkness, feels both haunting and peaceful at the same time.
“Wow…” Ori breathes, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes scan the blinding forest around him.
“... Do I find it beautiful because I don’t really wander off far from home…?” he asks himself, tilting his head slightly as his gaze lingers.
His hooves brushes against patches of soft moss as he approaches a massive hollow tree trunk lying diagonally across his path.
“Perhaps…” Ori mutters thoughtfully, his voice trailing off as he stretches his arms high above his head, arching his back with a soft sigh.
His eyes flutter closed, the faint tension in his body melting away for just a moment as he lets out a long, contented yawn. “Ggg… hhuaa-” The sound cuts off abruptly as the ground beneath him crumbles with a sharp crack.
“AAAH- AGH!” Ori’s eyes snap open in shock as he plummets through a rotten section of the tree trunk, his arms flailing helplessly before he crashes onto the ground below.
Ori lands with a loud thud , the impact jolting through his small frame as he sprawls flat on the ground. For a moment, he just lies there, dazed, staring up at the jagged hole he’s created in the tree trunk above.
The broken wood splinters at the edges, and a few loose pieces fall around him, one bouncing off his forehead with a soft plink . “Great…” he mutters under his breath, his ears twitching as he glares at the offending hole.
“...Thanks… a lot, fate,” Ori groans, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he pushes himself into a sitting position. He rubs the back of his head, his tail flicking irritably as he glances back up at the tree trunk.
“So much for putting faith in fate…” he mutters, shaking his head with a weary sigh. Rolling his shoulder experimentally, he pauses, blinking in surprise.
“Huh… it doesn’t hurt all that bad…” he mumbles to himself, tilting his head as he stretches his arms and tests his legs. Despite the fall, the lingering pain isn’t all that bad, just the faint ache of his pride.
With a small shake of his fur to rid it of dust, Ori gets back onto his feet, muttering quietly as he brushes himself off.
Ori’s paw instinctively brushes against the hilt of the blade resting at his hip. He tilts it slightly in its scabbard, glancing down to confirm what he already hopes. “Undamaged… good,” he murmurs, his voice soft but relieved.
Straightening, Ori takes a careful look around his new surroundings. To his left, Ori notices the mouth of a cave, its jagged edges framing a dark interior.
He hesitates for a moment before turning his gaze to the right, where his eyes widen at the sight of several writhing, spiky creatures blocking the path.
Slimes with translucent purple bodies, sharp spikes protrude from their surfaces, and every so often, one of them twitches or shifts, releasing a faint squelching noise.
Ori reflexively steps back, his ears flattening. “Yikes… glad I didn’t land on that…” he mutters, casting a wary glance at the creatures before instinctively moving away.
Deciding not to tempt fate with the spiky slimes, Ori turns toward the cave. He hesitates for a moment before stepping inside.
It’s dark, almost suffocatingly so, but the faint glow radiating from Ori’s body casts a soft, warm light around him, making the shadows dance across the cave walls.
The deeper Ori ventures into the cave, the more the air changes. A foul stench begins to creep in, faint at first but growing stronger with each step.
It’s an acrid, almost sulfuric smell, mixed with the damp, rotting scent of decaying vegetation. Ori wrinkles his nose, lifting a paw to wave in front of his face in a futile attempt to ward it off.
“Ugh… what is that smell…” he mutters, his voice muffled as he instinctively holds his breath for a moment.
Soon, the narrow tunnel opens up into a wide cavern, and Ori freezes in his tracks as his eyes land on the bizarre sight before him.
Stretching out across the floor of the cavern is a massive lake, its surface glowing faintly with an unsettling purple hue. Strange bubbles rise to the top, bursting with faint hisses and releasing wisps of dark vapor that disappear into the gloom above.
Ori grimaces, his nose wrinkling instinctively. “What in the world…” he mutters under his breath, taking a cautious step closer.
He stops at the very edge, his hoove just shy of the water. “... Yuck…” he murmurs, his ears flattening as he stares at the bubbling surface.
Ori looks around the cavern, his eyes scanning the expanse of the bubbling purple lake. His ears flick as he lets out a soft, frustrated groan. “Ugh…” he mutters, realizing there isn’t a straightforward way to cross.
Still, there are possibilities. Scattered across the lake are various objects; a few floating tree trunks, small rocky islands just barely big enough to stand on, and above, long, twisting vines dangle from the ceiling.
Ori tilts his head, his gaze shifting between the potential routes. “Hmm…” he muses softly, his tail flicking in thought as he considers the safest way across.
Ori narrows his eyes, tracing the potential paths. The floating logs seem unstable, bobbing slightly with the ripples of the strange liquid.
The rocky islands appear sturdier but are spaced just far enough apart to require careful jumps.
The vines, though tempting, sway faintly as if warning him of their fragility. “Hmm… okay…” he mutters, his confidence wavering but not yet shaken.
“Doesn’t seem all that hard…” But as his eyes drift downward, they settle once more on the glowing purple water.
Curiosity tugs at him, and he crouches closer, tilting his head. “...Wait… does the water even hurt?” he murmurs, resting a paw on his hip.
“Only one way to find out…” Ori mutters, more to himself than anyone else. He lowers himself to a crouch, as he leans cautiously toward the lake.
His tail flicks nervously behind him as he stares at the rippling surface. For a moment, he hesitates, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Slowly, Ori extends a finger, his paw trembling slightly as he inches closer. The strange water feels cool at first, almost deceptively pleasant, as his fingertip dips beneath the surface. He exhales softly. “Huh… doesn’t seem so bad…”
Then it hits. A searing, burning sensation shoots through his finger, racing up his arm like wildfire. The pain is sharp and immediate, flooding his senses with a jolt that makes his ears shoot upright.
“GAAH!” Ori yelps, yanking his paw out of the water as fast as he can. His heart pounds as he stumbles backward.
“OW! OWOWOWOW!” he blurts out, frantically waving his arm as if the motion might somehow shake off the pain. His tail lashes wildly as he hops in place, his glowing eyes wide with alarm.
After several frantic seconds, Ori finally stops hopping. He lifts his injured finger in front of his face, his ears drooping as he inspects it. The tip is red and slightly swollen, a faint sting still lingering in his nerves.
“Ow…” he mutters, his voice softer now but still laced with irritation. With a long sigh, he lowers his paw and puffs out his cheeks in exasperation.
“...Well, that clears things up,” he grumbles, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He shakes his head, glancing warily back at the bubbling lake. “Definitely not swimming through that…”
Ori huffs, his chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths as he bounces lightly, shifting his weight from side to side.
“Okay… here we go…” he mutters to himself, his eyes fixed intently on the first rocky island ahead. His tail flicks nervously behind him, and for a moment, he feels a pang of doubt.
Without giving himself time to overthink, Ori bolts forward closing the distance to the lake. With a burst of effort, he leaps into the air, his small frame arching over the bubbling purple water before landing squarely on the first rocky island.
Ori doesn’t stop to catch his breath. Instead, he pushes off the first island, his legs propelling him toward the next rocky platform. He lands with a slight stumble but quickly regains his balance, his momentum carrying him into another leap.
Each jump feels riskier than the last as the rocky islands grow smaller and more uneven. On his third leap, he lands with only one hoove firmly on the surface, the other scrambling for purchase on the jagged edge.
“Ah-!” he gasps, his hoove digging into the stone before he manages to steady himself. Ahead, a vine dangles enticingly from the ceiling, just within reach.
Without hesitating, Ori crouches low and launches himself toward it. His paws grab hold, and for a brief moment, relief washes over him as the vine supports his weight.
But as he swings halfway, he hears a sharp snap . The vine tears away from the ceiling, strands of fibrous material fraying under his grip.
“SHIT-!” Ori shouts as the vine gives way completely, his heart lurching as he plummets toward the lake below.
For a split second, he braces for the worst, imagining the burning sting of the purple water searing him. But instead, he feels the rough scrape of stone beneath him as his body crashes against the very edge of the lake’s far side.
His momentum sends him skidding diagonally, his back dangerously close to the bubbling liquid. “No, no, no-!” Ori yelps, flailing his arms wildly in an effort to shift his weight forward.
And with a bit of luck, Ori manages to stumble forward onto safer ground. He plants his paws on his knees, his shoulders heaving as he takes several deep breaths, his chest still pounding from the effort.
Slowly, a grin spreads across his face, and he straightens up, pointing triumphantly at the bubbling lake behind him. “HAH! TAKE THAT, STUPID LAKE! HAHAH!” he exclaims, his voice echoing through the cavern.
A low rumble shakes the air, and then boom! a massive crash erupts behind him as a section of the cavern wall crumbles away.
Chunks of rock and dust explode outward as a hulking shape barrels through the crumbling wall.
“Ah… hah…” he stammers, his voice caught somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Me and my big mouth…” he mutters under his breath, his ears flattening against his head.
As the dust settles, the creature emerges, a Rammer Beetle, its frame gleaming with a hard, rocky sheen. Its legs dig into the ground, claws scraping against the stone as it rears back, snorting clouds of steam from its nostrils.
The beetle’s beady eyes lock onto Ori, and it lets out a deep, guttural growl, its horned head lowering in challenge. Behind it, its hind legs paw at the ground, kicking up loose debris as it prepares to charge.
Ori shakily turns around, his fur bristling as his eyes lock onto the figure of the beetle. Its jagged, rock-like shell gleams faintly under the dim light, scraping up dirt as it lowers its horned head toward him.
“H-hey… w-we can talk about this, right-?” Ori stammers, his voice trembling as he takes a hesitant step back. But before he can finish his sentence, the beetle lets out a deep, guttural screech and charges forward
Ori’s heart skips a beat, and without hesitation, he throws himself to the side, the rush of air from the beetle’s charge brushing past his ears.
The beetle skids to a halt, its heavy body leaning into the turn as it pivots on its sharp legs with surprising agility.
“Why me?!” Ori cries out, his voice breaking as he sprints ahead, his frame darting between rocks and uneven terrain.
Desperation gripping him, Ori grabs the katana at his side. With one paw, he pushes against the tsuba with his thumb, loosening the blade from its scabbard, and with the other, he draws it in a smooth, hurried motion.
“Can this even cut through that beast?!” Ori shouts internally, doubt gnawing at him as his paws tighten around the hilt of the blade. He risks a glance over his shoulder, his glowing eyes catching the beetle’s relentless form charging after him.
Gritting his teeth, Ori takes a deep breath and pushes off the ground, leaping forward. Twisting his body mid-air, he pivots to face the oncoming monster, his tail flicking behind him as he lands with a skid.
“I’ll find out soon enough,” Ori mutters under his breath, his voice shaking. The katana feels heavier now as he adjusts his grip, his knuckles tightening around the hilt.
The Rammer Beetle shows no sign of stopping, its legs pumping furiously as it closes the distance between them.
As the beetle barrels closer, Ori swings the blade with all his strength, the steel arcing downward in a flash of silver. The katana slams into the beetle’s shell with a deafening clang , the impact reverberating through Ori’s arms.
The blade barely penetrates the thick, rock-like armor, lodging itself just deep enough to catch. “Guh-!” Ori gasps his hooves skids across the rough, uneven ground, dirt and loose stones scattering beneath him as the beetle drags him backward.
The monster shows no sign of slowing. Ori glances backwards, his eyes widen as he spots what’s rapidly approaching behind him, the cavern’s wall looming ominously in his dim light.
“Shit…” Ori curses under his breath, his voice tight with panic. His heart races as his mind scrambles for a way out, the thunderous sound of the beetle’s charge filling his ears. The wall is coming closer, too close. He doesn’t have much time.
Gritting his teeth, Ori forces himself to focus. He takes a quick, sharp breath and leaps, twisting his frame mid-air. His paws maintain a death grip on the katana, the blade still lodged in the beetle’s tough shell.
With a grunt of effort, he plants a hoof against the side of the creature’s massive, horned head. Ori then pushes off with all his strength, at the same time, he yanks the blade free, the weapon slicing out of the shell with a metallic scrape.
The sudden motion propels him backward, and he lands in a low crouch just as the beetle barrels forward, oblivious to his escape.
The Rammer Beetle skids to a halt, its heavy body leaning into a clumsy turn as it attempts to pivot toward Ori. But the sheer momentum of its charge works against it.
With a loud CRACK , the beetle slams headfirst into the stone wall, the impact sending shockwaves through the cavern. Dust and small pebbles rain down from above as a sizable dent forms in the solid wall.
Ori, now back on his feet, shifts into a fighting stance, his blade raised defensively in both paws. His breath comes in quick bursts, and his tail flicks nervously behind him.
The beetle recovers quickly, shaking its horned head as if dazed, and lets out an enraged screech. But before either of them can move, the cavern itself seems to groan in protest.
A massive stone spike, its surface jagged and uneven, breaking free from the cavern ceiling. It plummets toward the ground with terrifying speed.
“Ah-?” Ori doesn’t even have time to finish his thought before the spike crashes down with an earth-shaking BOOM .
Dust and debris explode outward in all directions, and when the air clears, the Rammer Beetle is gone, entirely crushed beneath the massive boulder.
Ori flinches, instinctively hopping backward as his heart races. For a moment, he simply stares at the massive spike in disbelief.
Then, a grin slowly spreads across his face. “YAH! I LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER DAY!” he cheers, throwing his arms into the air triumphantly. His voice echoes through the cavern, bouncing off the walls.
Ori’s triumphant grin fades as quickly as it came, his arms slowly lowering back to his sides. “Oh… who am I even cheering to…” he mutters, his voice trailing off into the empty air.
With a small sigh, his shoulders slump, and he shakes his head in defeat. Sliding the katana back into its scabbard with a faint click , Ori takes a moment to steady his breathing.
The faint glimmer of the cave’s exit catches his eye, its silvery light flickering in the distance like a beacon.
Ori walks slowly toward the exit, his footsteps quiet against the uneven stone floor. His ears droop low as his thoughts spiral inward. “... I’ve been alone for only a day…” The words echo softly in his mind.
”But... Being alone… is… so daunting… so quiet… so lonely…” He lets out a long sigh, his glowing eyes fixed on the exit as if it holds the answer to a question he can’t quite voice.
Ori rubs his forehead, his small paw brushing against the faint glow of his fur. “... Bring back the flame…” he repeats the words, the phrase swirling in his mind like a half-remembered dream.
“... How am I even supposed to accomplish something I don’t even understand?” His brows knit together, a flicker of frustration breaking through his exhaustion.
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do… or where I’m supposed to go…” The weight of the unknown feels heavier with each step, and the echoes of those words, spoken with such urgency, seem to mock his aimless wandering.
“Until now… I’m still just wandering around aimlessly…” Ori thinks to himself, his steps faltering slightly as he nears the mouth of the cave.
His tail drags faintly behind him, brushing against the rough stone floor. The faint light of the night sky of the exit glimmers ahead.
“... What I’d do to not be alone right now…” The thought lingers in Ori’s mind, tilting his head back, he closes his eyes, the soft light from his body reflecting faintly against the cave walls.
As he continued walking forward, he crosses the threshold, letting the faint light of the night sky spill onto him-
Thud!
Ori’s thoughts are cut off as he collides headfirst into something or someone solid. “Ack-!” he yelps as the impact sends him stumbling backward, his paws flailing in a frantic attempt to catch his balance.
He lands with a soft plop on the cool ground, his tail curling reflexively around him as he rubs the side of his head. “Ow…” he mutters, his glowing eyes blinking open to take in what just happened.
His gaze lifts, focusing on the silhouette in front of him. For a moment, Ori freezes, his ears twitching as he squints at the figure, trying to piece together what or who he’s just bumped into.
“Ooowwwww…” a soft, feminine voice groans, cutting through the quiet air. Ori blinks rapidly, his vision still slightly blurry from the collision.
As the world comes back into focus, his eyes widen in shock. Just a few feet in front of him is… another spirit. One of his kind. They sit on the ground, rubbing their forehead with one hand, their other paw resting limply on their lap.
Light blue, delicate lines trace elegant patterns across their face, glowing faintly as they stretch up to their forehead and converge into a white diamond shape in the center.
Ori blinks a few times, his mouth opening slightly as if to say something, but no words come out.
After a short while, he manages to find his voice. “Uuuh… are you alright?” he asks, his tone uncertain but soft.
The other spirit pauses mid-motion, their paw still pressed against their forehead. Slowly, their luminous eyes dart toward Ori, locking onto him with an intensity that makes his fur prickle slightly.
For a moment, they just stare at each other, the silence stretching thin and heavy between them.
The silence lingers for what feels like an eternity, and Ori shifts uncomfortably, his ears twitching as the other spirit’s unblinking gaze remains fixed on him.
Just as he begins to fidget, unsure of what to say next, the spirit suddenly moves. Before Ori can react, they launch themselves at him, their arms wrapping tightly around his frame in an almost crushing embrace.
The force of the hug knocks him off balance, and he stumbles back slightly, his tail flicking in surprise. “Wh-what-?!” Ori blurts out, his voice muffled against the other spirit’s shoulder.
“OH MY LIGHT!” the spirit exclaims, their voice trembling with a mix of relief and disbelief. “I thought I was the last one alive in this forest!” Their words come out in a rush, their arms tightening around Ori as if afraid he might disappear if they let go.
Their voice carries a soft, lilting tone, distinctly feminine and filled with emotion. The two of them remain like that for a moment, the other spirit clinging tightly while Ori lies stiffly in her grasp, his arms awkwardly pinned to his sides.
His ears twitch, and his glowing eyes dart around, unsure of how to respond. “Uuuh… yeah… that thought also crossed my mind…” he mumbles, his tone edged with discomfort. The spirit doesn’t loosen her hold, and Ori clears his throat softly.
“Speaking of minds… uh… would you mind letting me go?” he asks, his voice tinged with nervous humor.
“Ah! S-sorry!” the spirit stammers, quickly releasing Ori and stumbling back a step. Her glowing form dims slightly, as if embarrassed by her sudden outburst.
Ori takes a moment to sit up, brushing the dirt from his fur and adjusting the katana at his side. He dusts off his legs with small, deliberate motions, stealing a cautious glance at the other spirit.
She shifts awkwardly, her paws fidgeting as her eyes dart between him and the ground.
“So… who are you?” Ori asks, his voice tinged with curiosity as his eyes study the spirit in front of him. His head tilts slightly, ears twitching as he waits for a response.
The other spirit’s gaze darts toward him before she straightens up a little. “My name’s Meira!” she announces, her tone bright but faltering slightly as she continues.
“Or… uhm, Sein... Still kinda new to being the eye of the forest…” Her voice softens as she glances sideways, avoiding his gaze for a moment.
Ori blinks at her, his expression blank as the words sink in. “... The eye of the what now?” he finally asks, tilting his head so far that his large ears flop slightly to the side.
Confusion ripples across his face, and his tail swishes behind him in uncertainty. Meira turns back toward him “The eye of the forest,” she repeats patiently, as though the phrase should spark recognition.
“You know… usually a blue orb? It resides at the top of the Spirit Tree.” Her paw gestures vaguely upward, but when Ori’s blank expression remains unchanged, she pauses, her lips pressing into a faint line.
“Spirit Tree, what now?” Ori replies, his ears perking up slightly as his head tilts the other way. His tone carries genuine confusion, and the slight twitch of his tail betrays his embarrassment.
Meira blinks at him, her eyes widening as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Wait… so… you don’t know what either is?” she asks, her voice a little shaky, disbelief bleeding into her tone.
Ori awkwardly shakes his head, his eyes darting to the side as if searching for an escape. “N-no… s-should I know?” he stammers, his paws fidgeting nervously at his sides.
“... Y-Yeah… you kinda should,” she mutters, her tone a mix of exasperation and resignation. She lifts a paw to rub the back of her neck, casting a sideways glance at Ori.
“Uwaaah… I’m way too young to teach or lecture…” Meira groans, throwing her paws up dramatically before letting them fall to her sides, her tail swishing lazily behind her.
There’s a hint of sadness in her tone, though it’s buried beneath her exaggerated exasperation. Ori glances from side to side, unsure of how to respond.
His ears twitch slightly, and his tail flicks in mild guilt as his eyes settle back on Meira. “S-Sorry…” he mumbles, his voice barely audible.
“H-huh? N-no need to apologize!” Meira blurts out, her eyes widening as she waves her arms around nervously.
“You must’ve had an accident before you were born or-” She cuts herself off abruptly, her ears drooping as a hot flush spreads across her face.
“UH! n-not trying to be rude! I mean, it could’ve happened, and maybe that’s why- AH! S-sorry!” Her words tumble over one another, her voice growing higher and more frantic as she throws her paws into the air.
Her tail swishes in a mixture of panic and embarrassment. “I-it’s fine, really,” Ori replies, his voice soft as he rubs the back of his head with a small, sheepish smile.
His ears twitch slightly, and he avoids eye contact, unsure of how to calm her down. Meira glances back at him, her paws dropping to her sides as her glowing lines dim slightly.
She fidgets with one of her ears, scratching her cheek absently. “...So… uhm… what’s your name?” she asks, her voice quieter now, as if trying to regain her composure.
“Ori. Nice to meet ya,” he says, a carefree smile spreading across his face as his tail gives a small, lazy flick behind him.
The sincerity in his tone catches Meira off guard, and for a moment, she blinks at him in surprise before her face lights up with a smile of her own, brighter than before. “Likewise!” she exclaims, her tail swaying gently behind her.
“So… uh,” Ori begins, his ears flicking nervously as he tilts his head to the side, “mind telling me what you mean by… being the new eye of the forest or something?” His tone is light, almost hesitant, as though unsure if it’s okay to ask.
“Oh… uh… sure…” Meira replies, though her voice drops slightly, and her glowing lines dim ever so faintly.
Ori notices the shift immediately and quickly lifts his paws in a placating gesture. “Y-you don’t have to, if you don’t wish to…” he says quickly, his tone gentle but nervous.
His ears lower slightly, and his tail flicks behind him as if to emphasize he means no pressure. Meira glances at him, her expression softening at his words.
“No… it’s fine,” Meira says after a pause, her voice steadier now. “It’s probably better if I share the story with someone else for a change…” She trails off for a moment, her glowing lines flickering faintly before she lets out a soft chuckle.
“I mean… I’ve told the story a few times already… to an invisible audience.” Her tone turns lighthearted, though there’s a flicker of loneliness beneath her words.
“I… see…” Ori says softly, nodding as his glowing eyes linger on her, his expression thoughtful. Meira takes a deep breath, her small chest rising and falling.
“... Well,” she begins, her voice calm but resolute, “we’re not going anywhere for a while… so we might as well get this story out of the way.” She lets out a soft sigh, steadying herself as she takes another breath.
To Be Continued