The Voice of the Oasis

Ethan, frozen in awe and terror, could only manage a shaky, "Otherworlder?" A jolt went through him. 'Is this another world? It certainly feels like it.'

The colossal bird-headed creature tilted its head, a soft huff escaping its beak. "Perhaps I phrased it wrongly," its voice echoed in his mind, ancient and surprisingly gentle. "Let me try again. What was the word? Ah. The Dark Side of the World."

"The Dark Side of the World?" Ethan muttered aloud, his voice barely a croak.

"Yes," the creature confirmed. "The uninhabitable side of the world where spiritual energy is so thin that it's next to unlivable."

Ethan's confusion deepened. 'Did it mean Earth?' "But billions of humans live there," he managed to say, picturing the bustling streets of California, and the endless sprawl of cities.

The creature let out a sound that resonated like dry leaves rustling in a breeze, a sound Ethan recognized as a laugh. "You humans certainly have funny jokes." Its gaze remained fixed on him. "So, are you part of the... what was it again... U... USA?"

"Ah, yes?" Ethan stammered, unsure if he should affirm allegiance to his nation in front of a giant, mind-speaking monster.

"Wonderful," the creature boomed, a hint of genuine amusement in its mental voice. "The last time I spoke to you humans, they told me wonderful stories of your 'Space Wizards,' battling evil empires with laser swords and mystical powers among the stars. Or tales of 'Mechanical Titans,' colossal machines piloted by humans, clashing in world shattering battles."

"Tell me more!" the colossal creature boomed mentally, its massive head dipping slightly in an eager gesture.

'Isn't that Star Wars, and some kind of mecha show?' Ethan thought, a surreal mix of fear and disbelief washing over him. He agreed to the creature's request, a cold dread creeping up his spine at the thought of what it might do if he refused.

He quickly wracked his brain for a story, settling on the first one that came to mind. "It's a story of a hero party who successfully defeated the Demon King," he began, launching into the tale of Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

"Woah, they were capable of defeating a Demon King?" the creature interrupted, stirring slightly.

Ethan blurted out, "Demon Kings are real?"

The creature tilted its head, its large eyes blinking slowly. "Of course they're real. Didn't your story mention one? Ah, I forget, you are from the Dark Side of the World. Demon Kings must be mere legends to you folk. Do continue your story."

Ethan then recounted Frieren's initial apathy, her gradual understanding of human connection, and the journey of elf. He spoke for hours, making up plausible plot lines when his memory faltered or filling in future arcs that had yet to be written. He described the poignant moments, the quiet joys, and the inevitable sorrows of a near-immortal watching mortal lives unfold.

The creature, settling down with surprising grace, listened intently, its massive body resting near the oasis's edge. As if sensing the importance of the moment, or perhaps simply wary of the ancient being, the other oasis creatures had quietly dispersed, leaving Ethan alone with the colossal, feathered guardian. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery oranges and purples, and the desert night, surprisingly cool, descended. Still, Ethan spoke, his voice growing hoarse, fueled by fear and the strange compulsion to entertain this ancient being. The stars emerged, a brilliant, unfamiliar tapestry above them, as he wove the intricate narrative.

By the time the first sliver of dawn painted the eastern sky, and the oasis began to awaken with the soft chirps of new day, Ethan finally reached the bittersweet ending: the quiet reflections on a life long-lived, and the enduring echoes of bonds formed and lost.

 _________________________________________

When Ethan concluded his tale, a sound like dry, whispering leaves, laced with profound sorrow, emanated from the creature. Tear-like droplets flowed from its massive eyes, tracing paths down its feathered face.

"What a moving tale," it murmured into Ethan's mind, its mental voice now tinged with deep emotion. "A perspective of immortal species such as our own, on lesser beings. I, too, often hold such feelings when my favorite subordinates age, leaving only their offspring as a reminder of the memories we shared. Human, I am grateful for hearing such a story."

With a graceful movement, the creature plucked a single, shimmering feather from its wing with its beak and gently extended it towards him. Ethan, still processing the creature's reaction and the exhaustion of his long vigil, hesitantly took the surprisingly light feather.

"I can feel how weak you are," the creature communicated. "Take this feather of mine; it is imbued with my power. It is capable of summoning a storm that will tear the world asunder. If not, you can use it to grant yourself the majesty of my wind.

Fearing the implication of summoning a world-shattering storm, Ethan quickly asked how to use the feather to gain the creature's blessing of wind. The creature explained the simple mental command. It then asked if he truly wished to use it merely as a blessing, stating it would be a "waste" of its grander power. Ethan, undeterred by the creature's assessment, nodded firmly in confirmation.

As he confirmed his choice, the feather dissolved into pure energy, flowing into him. A surge of exhilarating power rushed through his core, making him feel stronger, more vibrant. He immediately tested his newfound ability, extending his hand. A soft, cool breeze, born of no visible source, gently stirred the air around him.

"My apologies for my manners, human," the colossal creature rumbled, its mental voice taking on a slightly more formal tone. "I am Hippogriff, a noble descendant of the mighty Ziz. And you, human, what is your name?"

"Ethan," he managed. "Ethan Miller."

"Ethan Miller," the Hippogriff repeated, tasting the name mentally. "Tell me more stories, Ethan. The story of your kind sounds fascinating."

Ethan's shoulders slumped. "I... I'm a bit tired," he admitted, his voice hoarse from hours of speaking and the sheer mental exhaustion of his ordeal.

A soft, mournful cry, like distant thunder, echoed in his mind. "Tired? Oh! Forgive me, Ethan! I forgot how fragile your kind are, how fleeting your energies. I was simply caught up in the excitement of new tales."

The Hippogriff extended its beak and seemed to tear open the very air with a swift motion. A shimmering rent appeared, revealing a swirling void. From this space, it plucked a vibrant, iridescent fruit unlike anything Ethan had ever seen. It offered the fruit to him with its beak.

Hesitantly, Ethan took a bite. An overflowing wave of energy surged through his body, washing away his fatigue. His mind felt sharper, thoughts racing with exhilarating clarity and speed. It was as if his brain had been upgraded, every synapse firing perfectly.

Refreshed and invigorated, Ethan felt a new story bubble to the surface. "Okay," he said, his voice stronger now. "This is a story about a boy who goes on a journey to become a Hokage, the leader of his ninja village, battling powerful enemies and making friends along the way, all while harboring a powerful, chaotic beast within him."