Seasons passed—rainy and dry—the only seasons the world of Nohr knew..
The child had grown considerably.
Now over three years old, it appeared even older, having grown reddish-brown hair all over its body—not as dense as a beast's, but noticeably more than that of an average toddler.
He bore an uncanny resemblance to his father, Aiden—the only distinguishing features being his the color hair, his lingering baby fat, and unusual almost beastly hairiness.
His nails had grown into claw-like shapes, his teeth subtly pointed like a canine's—natural adaptations to his life in the wild.
Naked, he sat atop the back of the water spirit as they rode through the forest, a makeshift spear in its hands.
Hovering slightly above the ground, they moved stealthily, careful not to make a sound.
The morning wind whistled, birds chirping—but it didn't break his focus.
His naturally fierce expression only made him appear more wild.
"Got one," he announced, spotting a clueless horned rabbit.
His breath caught. His pupils dilated, narrowing into slits as he locked onto the creature. Beside him, his mother remained still—frozen, as if time itself had paused.
With unnatural strength, he hurled the crude weapon, striking his target with skillful precision.
"We've got our lunch," he hought, his thoughts directed toward the dolphin.
" Well done "
The dolphin nodded in delight, now able to understand him.
Unlike other children his age, he couldn't speak—having had no teacher. Yet that didn't stop him from communicating with his mother.
Their bond transcended language; emotions were conveyed through mere gestures, almost telepathic in nature.
They were connected—linked in a way that made words unnecessary.
A meal for one was enough.
They bothered not to continue the hunt, heading back to the ruins of the toddler's birthplace.
In the past three years, the dolphin had surveyed the area numerous times in search of a suitable place to settle, always returning with nothing.
The forest was too vast for it to explore it's entirety without leaving the toddler behind.
They had to make do with the ruins, building a crude shack to protect themselves from skyborne predators.
Rain was never a problem, given the presence of a water spirit.
Even the weakest of water spirits—a water sprite—could control rain to a certain degree.
Diverting it was an easy feat.
Arriving at their destination, he jumped off and entered what could barely be called a building.
Charred logs served as its pillars, while walls were formed from branches tangled with dead leaves. Above them, the hides of creatures he had killed and eaten hung as a crude roof, stitched together with vines.
The interior was as crude as the exterior, yet surprisingly clean—always kept tidy by the water spirit.
He quickly sat on the cold floor, stuffing his face with meat, blood dripping from his mouth as he savored the meal with visible ecstasy.
Unable to make fire—neither the dolphin possessing the knowledge nor the toddler knowing better—it devoured the rabbit raw.
"Let me wipe that for you…" The dolphin cleaned the toddler's mouth, the crimson liquid corrupting its clear form.
With a swipe of its fin, it ejected the blood from its body.
Speaking of its body, it had shrunk considerably. Once a full-grown dolphin, it was now only a few meters larger than the toddler.
"I'm stuffed,"the toddler rubbed his belly in satisfaction, smiling happily at the water spirit—his teeth stained blood-red from the meal.
The spirit quickly cleaned his teeth of the blood, and the toddler took the opportunity to drink from the spirit's watery form—the only source of water he had known until now.
Fortunately, this did nothing to reduce the spirit's form, as it could always maintain its shape using moisture from the atmosphere.
Its shrunken state was due to the mana keeping it anchored in the world of man—mana that was nearly depleted, having come from the elderly lady.
With his thirst quenched, the toddler fell into slumber—his daily routine: eat, sleep, eat again, and sleep some more.
Not requiring rest, the water spirit began its own routine: circling the makeshift shelter, ever watchful, guarding the child.
As the elderly lady's mana dwindled, so too did the spirit's sense of purpose.
Her will, the anchor that bound it to this realm, had almost vanished.
And yet—it continued to protect the child.
Not out of duty… but attachment.
True attachment.
True love.
Rrrrmmmble!
The earth trembled—not from tectonic shifts, but from the thunderous footsteps approaching their home.
" What's going on?!"
The sudden tremor woke the toddler, who quickly rushed to the side of the water spirit.
The water spirit was already alert, its gaze fixed on the horizon, sensing the vibrations in the air.
"We have to go," it said, panic rising in its voice.
Its senses, attuned to the moisture in the air, picked up what was coming: a horde of creatures—hundreds—rushing in their direction.
Predators and prey alike, none paying heed to one another, all moving with wild urgency.
Their gazes were fixed forward, fleeing from a threat greater than even the predators among them.
" Yes, Mom!!"
Without hesitation, the toddler leapt onto the spirit's back, and at full speed, they dashed away from the oncoming chaos.
Moments later, the stampede crashed through their home—treating it as just another patch of land in their blind escape.
The herbs did nothing to slow them down. In moments of true danger, mere inconvenience meant nothing.
The traps brought down some, but most simply ran over the fallen, trampling their bodies without pause.
Hooves, paws, talons, and feet smashed into the ruins of the cabin—the shelter that had been their home—reducing it to an even greater heap of rubble.
The stampede continued, as if chasing the toddler and the spirit—the only clear path in sight.
The water spirit, only a few meters ahead, saw them.
The herd was running in a straight line. But if she continued forward, they'd eventually catch up and crush them both.
She had to move—but any direction other than straight ahead would lead them into the stampede's path.
Either immediately or eventually.
The only safe route… was above.
"Hold on tight," she told the child.
" Ok…"
The toddler didn't even look back—not that he could, with the water spirit moving at 50 km/h. He clung tightly to his mother, his face buried in her back.
Without hesitation, she ascended—rising several meters above the ground, the toddler clinging to her as tightly as his little arms allowed. His limbs sank slightly into her watery form, which as of now was nearly the same size as he was.
The stampede raged on below, violent and destructive, leaving nothing intact in its wake.
"We'll be safe here for a while…" she thought, hovering in the air.
The toddler nodded, his face pale with fear. He had never seen his mother like this—not even in moments where death loomed close. Whatever those rushing 'ants' were… they had to be something far worse.
The water spirit remained airborne, stationary waiting.
But flying took a toll.
Every second in the sky drained mana.
She had to manipulate water from the air to lift herself, and the higher she went, the thinner the moisture.
The strain growing.
"Are you—"
Bang!!
A gunshot rang out—piercing her watery form.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Another arc complete, hope you enjoyed...
And before I forget, the 'ants" is just from the toddler perspective, their obviously not ants.
Ok off to the next