Soon the forest stretched far beneath him, a vast and heaving sea of green. The trees swayed with the wind like rolling waves, and for a fleeting moment he felt as though he were sailing atop a living ocean, captain of his own daring voyage.
At last, his hand found the branch where the faint shimmer glowed. Carefully, he pulled himself up, his chest pressing against the wood, and he leaned forward. Slowly, his head rose above the rim of the nest like a dawning sun cresting the horizon.
Inside lay three tiny eggs, glowing faintly with a bluish sheen, as though each carried a secret spark of the sky within its fragile shell.
"Hehe," a wide smile stretched across his face as he saw the three shiny blue eggs.
"Got it!" He whispered a sound of triumph, a feeling of pure happiness that was better than any royal decree.
He stood in the tree, sightseeing the paradise below, taking a deep breath of the fresh forest air.
"Grahh-grahh-grahh!"
"Hehe," he laughed, spotting more black blue feathers nearby. That's a piece of cake! Nothing to fear here.
The joyful squawks of Cassowary parents filled the air as Xerxez crept through the thick bushes, waiting for his opportunity.
I'm sure I can snatch their eggs. I am a child of Thallerion! He thought to himself, a swell of pride filling his chest.
With a final, joyful cry, the Cassowary seemed to celebrate something, but Xerxez was already moving.
He snatched several of the green eggs from their nests as if they were the most valuable treasure in his young life. The male Cassowary, caught off guard, turned aggressive. Oh no!
"Hrrrnkkk, hrrrnnkkk!!!"
This—this was what Xerxez proudly called hunting. Not demons, not abyssal beasts, not the nightmares that haunted old legends… no, he was a hunter of eggs. A title no less daring in his own mind.
The children of Thallerion often laughed at him for it. They mocked his strange passion, refusing to join him in his escapades.
"Bah, they don't know the thrill. They don't understand the rush, the taste of victory when you've outwitted the birds themselves."
But today, victory almost had teeth.
He bolted through the thicket, a storm of furious wings on his heels. The male birds transform into a size of ostrich, it's feather become blade flightless, shrieked and lunged, their sharp beaks snapping dangerously close—one nearly caught him square on
Xerxez stifled a laugh and peeked through the branches. "I was prepared for that beast transformation."
His heart was hammering, but his grin stretched wide, wild and proud. In his hands gleamed the prize—eggs tinted green, smooth as river stones.
"Mother once told me she tasted a green egg," he whispered to himself, holding one up to the fading light. "Said it was the most delicious thing she'd ever eaten. Maybe… this is what she meant."
Then his gaze shifted. Beyond the underbrush, prowling with deliberate steps, the cassowaries themselves lurked—towering, watchful, their ember eyes glinting like guardians of some ancient treasure. Their beast form become normal into normal Cassowaries.
"I know, I know…" he thought, smirking. The males guard their nests for nearly fifty days, never leaving. "Everyone says stealing from them is dangerous, they transform into a beast."
His fingers tightened around the eggs. The thrill sparked in his chest.
"But to snatch them, to outwit a beast twice my size… that's the moment I feel alive. That's when I'm no mere boy—I am a real hunter."
He slipped the green eggs into his pouch basket with care, the shells knocking softly against one another like hidden jewels. His eyes darted back to the cassowaries, still pacing and agitated, their long talons carving shallow furrows into the mud.
Then—ripples.
Something stirred beneath the swamp's murky veil. A shadow, massive and fish-like, glided just beneath the surface.
It moved with a strange, deliberate grace, then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Xerxez leaned forward, squinting.
"What was that? Another beast? Or some spirit of the marsh?"
The thought thrilled him. Fear never struck—only fascination. His young heart burned with curiosity, the same spark that made him climb trees and steal eggs no other dared touch.
He lingered there, watching the water vigilantly, as though the surface itself might confess its secret.
Then, from not far away—where the cassowaries often bathed—came another sound. Not the guttural croak of swamp birds, nor the shrill cry of beasts. This sound rose like a note of glass, a clear and haunting pitch that shimmered in the air as though the wind itself had sung.
Xerxez's ears twitched, his whole body still.
"SQUAWK! … SWAAAWK!"
His chest leapt, a grin breaking across his face. That sound… no mistake about it… His breath caught with boyish excitement. The Crane. The mysterious Crane of the swamps…
"Is it possible, that was a crane entity? Or a human, transforming into a crane?"
The tales spoke of it—an otherworldly bird with feathers like moonlight, a creature said to appear only to chosen eyes. Children whispered about it in bedtime stories; elders dismissed it as an entity of Crane, they said it was just a bird.
But here it was, its cry echoing through the trees, calling to him like destiny itself.
Xerxez pushed deeper toward the towering trees, his ears straining for the echo of that haunting cry. His heart thudded with a reckless wish.
"If I could snatch even one of their eggs, it would be the greatest hunt of my life. A treasure no other child could boast."
He longed to find their nest—he had waited for this moment for so long. His grandfather had told him stories of the mysterious cranes, their silver feathers gleaming like fallen stars. Xerxez had promised that one day he would bring him an egg. But that promise was now a whisper to the dead; his grandfather had passed away a year ago.
"Don't worry, Grandpa," he murmured softly, his breath dissolving into the humid air. "Wherever you are, I'll bring you the egg of that mysterious bird… and leave it at your tomb."
The vow steeled him, even as the swamp grew eerily alive around him. Every step carried new risks. Cassowaries prowled the underbrush, their claws ready to strike should he trespass too near their nests again.
And in the mangroves… something stirred. A shape, half-seen, shifting in the shadowed water—its presence heavy, as though it were watching him.
Xerxez paused, his pulse quickening. Just a fish, he told himself, brushing off the unease with a grin. His thoughts returned stubbornly to the sound that had started it all: the mysterious cranes. The real challenge of this hunt had only just begun.
"Pssst!"
Xerxez froze. That wasn't a birdcall, nor the cry of a crane. It was sharp, deliberate—like a whistle meant only for him.
Curiosity tugged him forward. He waded into the knee-deep swamp, the murky water rippling around his legs. Something glimmered at his feet, half-buried in silt, its surface winking faintly in the dim light.
"Whoa… what's this? A shell?" He crouched, brushing away the muck.
At first glance, it seemed no more than a stone or a seashell. But then, the dull surface broke into brilliance—veins of jewel-like shards ran across it, embedded in a strange, ornate design. His breath caught.
"My mother would love this. It looks like… a treasure."
He tugged harder, and the muck released it with a wet squelch. Not a shell. A dagger.
Its blade shimmered with a pale glow beneath the grime, the hilt crowned with gemstones. He turned in a slow circle, suddenly uneasy.
"Who would leave a thing like this here?"
The swamp answered with violence. From the mangroves, water surged, thrashing as though a massive fish—or something worse—was charging straight at him.
Then the dagger jerked in his grip.
Xerxez nearly dropped it. "What—?! It's… shaking?" The weapon quivered like a living creature, humming with strange energy.
And then he heard it.
A voice.
A sharp, nasal cry, more goblin than man, rasped from the blade: "Yeak! Look out!"
Xerxez's stomach flipped. His skin prickled with gooseflesh. "What—who said that?! Was that… you?"
The dagger wailed again, its voice cracking with panic. "There's a monster! Right behind you!"
"GRAWRR!!! That treasure is mine!!!"
The roar ripped through the swamp as a shadow lunged. Xerxez's eyes widened—what he heard next was bizarre, like the furious croak of a frog: "Crokcrokklock!"
"Whaaaaaa!! A monster!?" His voice cracked in terror.
From the reeds burst a swamp lizard, hulking as large as a wild boar. Its hide glistened with muck, claws curved like scythes, eyes burning yellow. With one bound it was upon him.
Xerxez stumbled back, but the beast's muscular tail whipped out, coiling tight around his ankle.
"Wheeeere ya goin'!!! Groock!" the creature snarled, its words garbled and guttural in Xerxez's ears.
"What… what did it say!?"
The dagger screeched back, its shrill voice cutting through his panic.
"It said—'Don't you dare hand me over to him!' That's what he wants!"
"That's what he said!?" Xerxez shouted, lifting the blade high as the lizard's claws slashed closer.
"That's for sure!"
"Hey—let me go!!!" His foot burned; blood slicked his shoe where teeth had torn flesh. It felt like fire ants gnawed him from the inside out. "Oww—hoo! You bit me again!?"
"You are a hunter, right? Use me! Strike him!" the dagger commanded.
" Well, I'm just bird's egg Hunter!"
Xerxez wrestled against the tail's crushing grip. It was like iron shackles clamped to his leg like a thousand ants biting at him. Gritting his teeth, he thrust the dagger forward—fzzzzzz!!!!
The blade blazed with a searing brilliance, its edge alive with sparks. A piercing cry rang through the air—not steel, not boy, but the shriek of a celestial bird.
"What's—what's happening!?" Xerxez gasped, his hand guided by a force beyond him. Every motion precise, every strike certain. I have to trust it… I have to trust this dagger.
The lizard recoiled, eyes wide. "Drrr—wh-what's this…? That blade… it's sparkin'—lightnin'?! Crok! Crokk!! I gotta tell the master—aaaagh!!"
The beast convulsed as crackling energy surged through its body. Sparks leapt across its slimy hide; its limbs flailed in chaos.
With a desperate scream, it bolted, skittering across the swamp's surface in wild strides—its claws paddling madly, as if it ran upon glass. The sight was grotesque, almost comical, but terror fueled its retreat.
"You'll pay for this, brat!" it howled, voice trailing into the mangroves, until only ripples remained.
"Wh-what's happening… did you kill it?" Xerxez panted, whipping his head left and right, searching the swamp. The lizard was gone—only ripples lingered where it had vanished.
Then relief burst from him in a wild laugh. "Hahahaha! The lizard ran away!"
He hadn't seen the moment the lightning struck its hide—his vision was still spotted from the blinding flash. But the result was enough. "Thank you, talking dagger!" he said, clutching it like a prize.
"Yeaaaksss!" the dagger squealed, its pitch wobbling between triumph and complaint.
Xerxez puffed out his chest, grinning into the shadows of the swamp.
"You coward!!! Such a nuisance! Don't show your ugly face again—or I'll toast you next time!" His voice echoed through the trees, scattering a family of frogs back into the water with startled plops.
For a moment, silence settled again. He caught himself staring at the reeds, where the monster had disappeared.
"So it wasn't just stories. Grandpa was right—there really are creatures beyond the Thallerion walls." His heart skipped. " I've seen it with my own eyes."
A little shiver ran through him, but he masked it with bravado, pointing the dagger skyward. "What kind of magic are you, huh?" he muttered, eyes glittering.
The blade pulsed faintly, then spoke with a smug squeak. "Just call me… a super dagger!"
"Fantastic!" Xerxez cheered, his grin widening. "From now on, you'll be my sidekick—Super Dagger!"
The dagger trembled as if embarrassed, but didn't protest.
"Anyway…" Xerxez swung his pouch back over his shoulder, brushing leaves from his jacket. "That was just a rare encounter with a wild lizard.
Nothing I can't handle." His voice was still shaky with leftover excitement, but he forced it into confidence. He winced, shifting weight off his bitten foot, though the numbness had already spread up his calf.
Still, he pressed on. The forest air felt charged now, alive with danger. His ears strained for that mysterious Crane's cry.
Then—Shfff!
The pouch at his side jolted violently, trembling as if alive. Xerxez froze, wide-eyed. "Ohhh…" His lips curled into a knowing grin. "Now I get it. Every time you shake—there's a threat nearby."
...
Meanwhile, the wounded lizard limped through the muck, its breaths ragged, its scales smoking faintly from the burn. At last, it stumbled before its leader, a hulking swamp beast with eyes like molten copper.
"The… the nasty boy…" it hissed, its tongue flicking weakly. "He carries a powerful treasure. He's in the stream—near the swamp. If not for the lightning, I would've brought his body back for lunch!"
The flocks hissed with hunger upon hearing a bad news.
The leader's jaw stretched into a cruel smile, serrated teeth flashing. "Treasure…?" His voice rumbled low, dripping with hunger and greed.
"He dares to wander into my swamp with such a thing?" His tail lashed the water. "Then let's hunt. Hunt for the treasure!"
At his command, the swamp stirred alive. Lizard after lizard slithered from the reeds, their scales scraping like chains, their hisses blending into a chilling chorus. The very water darkened, clouded by the sickly green ooze that seeped from their bodies, turning the swamp foul.
The wounded one croaked again, bowing low. "Be wary, Leader. The dagger—it spits lightning. I felt it burn through my scales." Its eyes narrowed. "But in your claws, surely nothing can resist."
The leader's grin deepened, a scar across his cheek tugging with the motion. "Lightning or no lightning… there is no weapon I cannot claim."
***
On the other side of the swamp, Xerxez stiffened. A ripple of sound crawled across the surface of the water—low, guttural, rhythmic, like iron grinding against iron. His pouch quivered madly at his side.
"Whoa…" he whispered, crouching low, heart pounding. "Why are there so many…?"
Then came the voice. A deep, rasping growl that seemed to rise from the earth itself.
"Ohhh… so this is the little brat," the lizard leader mocked, his amber eyes locking on Xerxez. "A prince in royal dress, alone in my swamp. How curious…"
The smaller lizards hissed and snickered, circling like vultures.
One leaned close to the leader, its tone serious. "He reeks of Thallerion, Master. Did you know? Your father once fell to the blades of Thallerion hunters."
For a moment, silence. Then the leader chuckled, the sound wet and cruel. "Thallerion…" His gaze sharpened, hungry. "So the bloodline still walks. And carries treasure." His eyes slid to Xerxez's pouch, unblinking. "Tell me, you name boy."
"Whoa—you can speak?" Xerxez blinked in shock, his voice cracking with disbelief. No need for the dagger's translations anymore—their threat was clear.
"I—i am Xerxez." His ears filled with hissed.
"Well, Xerxez....We command you," hissed the leader, his jaws stretching wide. "Give us the dagger… or else."
"Who… who are you, lizards?" Xerxez clutched his pouch to his chest. The air felt heavy, his skin prickled.
"We?" The leader slithered closer, his voice like grinding stones. "Young boy… beyond Thallerion's wall, you are no longer safe. Here, flesh as tender as yours is hunted. Give me the dagger, and perhaps I will let you live."
Lie! the dagger whispered sharply in Xerxez's mind.
"Hah!" The leader barked out a guttural laugh. "What a blessing from the swamp gods! And not just any brat… but a prince of Thallerion!" His many eyes gleamed greedily as he muttered to his underlings in reptilian tongue. Imagine the ransom we could fetch. "We can use him for a ransom." He whispered to his fellow lizard.
The dagger hissed in Xerxez's ear: Do not trust them.
"I know," Xerxez muttered under his breath, his chest tightening.
He tried to bolt—but the shadows moved first.
Slender figures unfurled from the rocks and roots, twisting like smoke, sealing every path of escape. His breath hitched, shallow and ragged.
A hiss sliced through the stillness.
"Where do you think you're going, little boy?"
Shapes closed in, eyes glinting like wet stones. "Hand over that dagger… if you wish to leave with your life."
"Why… why are you all so obsessed with my dagger?"
The leader stepped forward, grin spreading wide enough to bare a row of serrated teeth.
"Because, child," he said, voice slick with hunger, "that is no mere blade. Within it lies a weapon of ancient magic. Its essence helps us—" his tongue flicked the air, "—evolve."
"Evolve?"
He dragged his claws along a boulder, stone shrieking under the scrape.
"Not long ago, my trainees devoured a herd of bison. Flesh torn, bones cracked, blood soaking the ground. Yet it was only meat—no essence, no power." His grin turned feral. "But you… your bloodline forges weapons from spirit itself. You carry what we crave."
He leaned closer, voice thick with malice.
"But you are still a child. Your essence alone won't be enough for our evolution."
The shadows trembled with his laughter.
"So… give me the treasure dagger—and perhaps, I'll let you live."
" Perhaps?" Xerxez's throat tightened, his voice nearly a squeak. The dagger's command rang fierce: Fight if you must—but never let me go.
The lizard leader spread all four of his scaled arms wide, his fan-shaped jaws quivering. "After years of emptiness, treasure finally falls into my swamp." The boy has eggs… and a dagger of lightning. "Tell me, how did such a weakling snatch Cassowary eggs? You must be more than you seem."
" Don't underestimate me!" Xerxez's trembling hand balled into a fist. "I'm the one who found it—not you!" he snapped, forcing bravado into his voice.
The leader only sneered. "Blah, blah… brave words for a little prince."
Xerxez swallowed hard, whispering back, "I never thought lizards would be so obsessed with treasure for their crazy evolution's idea. Grandpa was right. I shouldn't have crossed the border alone."
The lizard's violet tongue flickered, savoring his fear. "Mmm… your fear as sweet as rodent blood," it rasped. Around him, the lizards gnashed their teeth in eerie rhythm, the sound like a swarm of swamp crickets.
Then—the pouch trembled. Xerxez froze. Yeak! Yeak!
TREMBLE!!!!!
The pouch jolted violently. Xerxez's heart skipped. "Are… are you incubating them? Or is this another warning?"
Yeak! the dagger vibrated furiously. " Something's coming."
"What do you mean something's coming?" But the dagger voice in his mind muted.
The lizards stiffened, their eyes narrowing. Even they seemed uneasy. They'd heard tales of this dagger's lightning.
Xerxez fumbled, pulling it free. The hilt pulsed with cold fire in his hand. "Yeak, you're glowing again… what are you doing? They'll notice you!"
"No," the dagger whispered, calm but fierce. "Just ready yourself."
"Hah?"
The lizards hissed, wary now. "Careful, boy," their leader growled. "That dagger doesn't belong to you. Hand it over, and leave while you still have legs to walk." But in his mind, he thought: Could that brat command its power?
"Tongue him!" the leader suddenly barked.
The lizards lashed out, tongues snapping like whips.
"Yeak! Help me!" Xerxez cried, clutching the dagger as the first tongue wrapped around his wrist. "Please, save me....Now!"
The blade pulsed. Sparks crackled. And then—Electic him! fzzzzzzzzz!!!
"Engkkkk!!!!" Xerxez gasped as the dagger's energy bite into his palm. Energy seared through his veins, his vision going white. His body shuddered, then fell limp.
The last thing he heard was the dagger's shrill cry: Yeak! Yeak!
When he opened his eyes again, time was still. Clouds stretched endlessly around him, swirling in a colorless sky.
He blinked, then blinked again. "Where… where am I?" His voice trembled. "Am I… dead?"
He rubbed his eyes, but the world was the same: a weightless sea of clouds, endless and silent.
THUD!
He heard a voice calling his name as if a man was expected him.