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Chapter 14: Sky Piercing Talon

It had been another year.

Three years had passed since I reunited with my Master. Three years since I took that desperate leap into the waterfall and thought I'd drowned. I hadn't, of course. Somehow, I'd floated home.

Since then, life had been a steady rhythm of training, chores, grilled fish, and building a raft in secret. Yes, the raft was still a thing. And it was coming along quite nicely, thank you very much. It floated now. Wobbly and unsure, but it floated.

Cultivation-wise, I had made decent progress. I believed I was nearing mid-stage Body Tempering. Not exactly revolutionary, but still better than my last iteration. I had my memories to guide me this time, even if they came in fragments, like puzzle pieces from a box chewed by rats.

Once again, Master wasn't around. He had left just yesterday, his departure unusually solemn.

"A friend has sent word," he'd told me. "A distress call. I might be gone longer than usual."

That... was a first. Even in my past life, Master never said things like that. Most of the time, he would just vanish without a word, as if the forest had swallowed him whole. For him to say he might be gone longer… and to mention a friend in distress… that carried weight.

Worry had gnawed at me all morning, but I tried to keep busy. At the moment, I was nestled inside the Sacred Tree, legs tucked beneath me, a book open between my wings. I was reading about topography, trying to familiarize myself with the lay of the land.

Crimson Sky Domain… that was the name of this vast, spiritual land. Apparently, it was named after some ancient hero from the Huo Clan. I tried to absorb as much as I could, but the knowledge just didn't stick the way I wanted it to. My memory… this infuriating, swiss-cheesed memory… failed me again and again.

Still, there was a silver lining. With each step in cultivation, my learning ability seemed to sharpen. When I'd first arrived, I struggled to read more than a paragraph without zoning out. Now, I could spend hours with a book and not once think about fish. Progress.

After a while, I shut the book and stood up. My wings felt stiff. Time to move. Time to train.

Outside, the clearing that had become my training ground greeted me with familiar stumps and battered trees. It was like seeing old sparring partners… most of them had scars from where I'd practiced Earth Breaking Spade, Sky Piercing Talon, and my own improvised techniques, like Feather Storm Flail. (Still in development.)

Today, I focused on the Sky Piercing Talon. I had read it from one of the Verdant Tail Sect books hidden in the Sacred Tree, a technique supposedly inspired by eagle beasts that soared above cloud-kissed peaks. The technique wasn't as brutally direct as Earth Breaking Spade. It was about finesse, speed, and precision. And unfortunately, talons.

Now, I may be a bird, yes. But let's get something straight… dodo talons aren't exactly what you'd call "sky-piercing." We were built for ground waddling, not high-speed aerial rending.

Still, I did my best.

I bent my legs, focused on my breath, and imagined the internal rhythm of the move. Since I was only at the Body Tempering realm, I couldn't move my qi consciously yet. But I could feel it. Faint threads, like whispers under my skin. I used my breathing to guide it, syncing each inhale and exhale with motion.

Step. Lunge. Twist. Slash.

The air whistled as I extended my talon. I struck the tree… not enough to slice it, but enough to leave a scratch.

"Progress is good, but I can still do more."

I tried again. And again. Day turned into week. I clawed, leapt, fell, stumbled, and nearly broke a toe on a stump. At night, I collapsed into the Sacred Tree, feathers dirty, dreams haunted by swooping eagle spirits and Master Song shaking his head in disapproval.

But I kept at it.

Eventually, my technique improved. It still wasn't perfect, but it had form now.

I stood in front of my practice tree, sweat running down my feathers, eyes narrowed. With one final breath, I lunged forward and slashed my talon forward in a clean arc.

The tree didn't fall, but a gouge appeared near its center… deep and raw.

I fell back, panting.

"I did it," I muttered. Then louder: "I did it! Ha!"

There was no one to witness it, of course. No Master to cheer. No applause. Just me, the trees, and the quiet wind.

Still, I felt pride swelling in my chest.

Another tree fell with a dull and hollow thud, less a cry of defeat and more a quiet surrender. I stood over it, talons slightly numb from the impact, chest heaving from the effort. My feathers were wet with sweat. Four years. That's how long I had been since Master left to answer a certain… distress call.

I walked to the tree's fallen body and pressed my wing against the gouge my talons had left. Sky Piercing Talon. The name was grand, a bit over-the-top, but I was finally starting to grasp it in more than just name. The gouges I left now were deeper, cleaner, and more decisive. I could feel it. My body, once awkward and sluggish, now pulsed with heat and strength. The muscles under my feathery hide coiled tighter, stronger. I had grown.

I stood there in silence, watching the light slip between the leaves, golden and soft. I remembered Master Song, that smug squirrel with eyes sharper than his sword and a voice that could command the wind to obey. He was never the sentimental type, not outwardly, yet somehow he always returned when I most needed him.

But this time... two years. It gnawed at me. A slow, creeping dread that I tried to drown under routine, under training, under anything but truth.

"I'm not strong enough to go after you," I muttered under my breath, as if the wind might carry the message to him.

The Sacred Hill stood quiet and watchful. I had long since memorized the view… its streams, the stumps from my endless practice, and the edges of the cliff where I had nearly fallen too many times. The Sacred Tree stood tall and ancient, still brimming with secrets. I slept inside it more often now, not just because I felt safer, but because it reminded me of him. Of the warm campfires. The scoldings. The grilled fish we ate in peace. The laughter. The silence. Just about everything.

"Finally, the raft is complete!"

The raft lay on the shore, tied loosely with vine rope and shaped with patience and frustration. I no longer needed to rebuild it; it was done. It bobbed lightly on the water, as if waiting.

"If the cultivators come, I will be able to escape through this…"

I thought about it, but I couldn't help but think negatively.

"Where are you, Master?"

In the end, I decided to be a dodo: foolish, reckless, and hopelessly sentimental.

And to make dumb decisions again.

I mean, I've already died like… twice, right? You would think that would teach me something. You would think that two separate lifetimes worth of pain and mistakes would grant me an ounce of wisdom. But no. Here I was, pacing in circles near the edge of the forest, trying to convince myself that I wasn't walking headfirst into disaster.

I stopped pacing.

"I love my Master," I said aloud, just to hear it and remind myself why I was doing this. My voice was small against the wind. "I will do anything for Master! I cherish my Master!"

That was it, really. I loved him. He wasn't perfect. He often would leave without warning, would scold me like I was some unruly squirrel, and hit me with the flat side of his great sword… but he saved me. Trained me. Gave me purpose when all I had was feathers and memories and regret.

And now? He was gone. Two years gone. No word, no trace, not even the wind whispering his name.

I looked down at my stubby feet. "I'm at the middle stage of Body Tempering now," I reminded myself. "I should be able to handle myself. I can hunt. I can defend."

But I couldn't lie to myself. I knew I was rationalizing. This wasn't strategy. It was desperation in a feathered cloak.

"I just want to find him," I whispered. "Even if it's a bad idea."

There were so many ways to look at a choice. You could weigh the risks. You could list the pros and cons. Or, like me, you could ask: which path will I regret the least? It wasn't wise. It wasn't noble. It was just how I survived.

So I packed nothing. Not out of confidence… but because I couldn't bear the ritual of preparing for what might be goodbye. If I had paused too long, I might've changed my mind. If I folded dried meat or secured a waterskin, it would mean I believed I wouldn't come back.

But then again, no opposable thumbs… I didn't really have a backpack I could wear either.

"Okay, Du. You can du this!"

I followed the lake's curve, past the familiar rocks where I often fished, down the narrowing trail that led to the river. The trees thinned out as I approached the ravine, where the river fell like silver lightning. This was the edge of my world. Beyond this was the unknown.

Before stepping into the tall grass, I turned my head one last time.

The Sacred Hill stood behind me, glowing in the late afternoon sun. The Sacred Tree swayed gently, indifferent and ancient. That place had become home. It wasn't perfect. It had splinters and shadows. But it was where I laughed. Where I cried. Where I learned to stand on my stubby dodo legs again.

"See you soon," I murmured. Not goodbye. Never goodbye. "I will bring Master home, I promise!"

And then I vanished into the tall grass, the green blades swallowing me whole.