Morning ca to the Black Fang settlent beneath a gray sky.
For the first ti in years, the village woke not to the sounds of routine but to unease. Warriors erged from their hos already ard. Hunters checked their spears before eating. Great wolves paced behind their enclosures, restless and agitated after the previous night’s encounter. Even the children seed quieter than usual, their curious eyes following every ard adult who passed through the settlent.
The news had spread.
The Sky Demons existed.
A flying steel beast had descended from the heavens.
And the forest was no longer theirs alone.
Chief Gorthak stood on the platform overlooking the settlent, his massive arms resting on the wooden railing. Morning mist still lingered among the rooftops and cooking fires. From this position, he could see nearly everything. Warriors patrolled the walls. Prisoners carried water from the well under heavy guard. Farrs were already heading toward the fields beyond the palisade.
Everything appeared normal.
Yet nothing was.
The chief had barely slept.
Every ti he closed his eyes, he saw the flying machine again.
No wings.
No feathers.
No magic.
Yet it had flown.
The mory disturbed him more than he cared to admit.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind him.
He did not turn.
He already knew who it was.
Elder Brugar, the oldest mber of the council, stopped beside him. The giant’s fur had turned almost gray with age, and scars covered much of his body.
"You have not slept."
Gorthak kept his gaze forward.
"Neither have you."
Brugar grunted.
"True."
For several monts, both giants remained silent.
The village slowly ca to life beneath them.
Eventually, Brugar spoke.
"The warriors are frightened."
That finally made Gorthak glance toward him.
"Are they?"
"So hide it better than others."
The old giant folded his arms.
"They saw thunder kill our hunters. They saw the steel beast descend from the sky. Last night changed many things."
Gorthak looked back toward the settlent.
He knew that.
He had seen it in their faces.
Fear.
Confusion.
Curiosity.
Their people had spent generations believing themselves alone. The outside world existed only in stories passed down from ancestors. Children listened to tales of human kingdoms and armies as if they were legends.
Now those legends had beco real.
Worse.
Those humans had arrived riding the sky itself.
A young warrior suddenly approached the platform.
He knelt.
"Chief."
Gorthak looked toward him.
"What is it?"
"The scouts have returned from the western forest."
The chief’s expression hardened.
"Bring them."
The young warrior imdiately departed.
Several monts later, three scouts climbed onto the platform. They looked exhausted. Their leather clothing was stained with dirt, and one of them carried a broken spear.
The lead scout knelt.
"We followed the trail of the flying beast."
Gorthak said nothing.
The scout continued.
"We traveled farther west than any hunting party in my lifeti."
Brugar frowned.
"And?"
The scout swallowed.
"There are roads."
The elder’s expression darkened.
The chief remained motionless.
"There are fields larger than our entire settlent. There are rivers crossed by stone bridges. We saw smoke from many places."
He hesitated.
Then:
"We saw buildings."
Silence settled over the platform.
The scout’s breathing sounded unnaturally loud.
"What kind of buildings?" Gorthak finally asked.
The warrior looked up.
"Large ones."
That answer was not sufficient.
The scout realized his mistake.
"Larger than our longhouses. Larger than anything I have ever seen. So looked as tall as the trees."
Brugar stared at him.
"Tall as trees?"
The scout nodded.
"And there were many."
The old giant slowly exhaled.
The chief looked toward the western horizon.
Beyond those forests lay a world he had never seen.
A world his ancestors had fled.
A world that had apparently continued to grow while his people remained hidden.
Another scout finally spoke.
"We also saw smoke moving."
Gorthak frowned.
"Smoke?"
"No."
The scout shook his head.
"I used the wrong word. They were... beasts."
He struggled to explain.
"tal beasts. They moved along the roads."
The chief’s attention sharpened.
"Did they have legs?"
"No."
"Wheels?"
"Yes."
The platform beca quiet.
Wagons.
But sohow, the scout’s expression suggested otherwise.
The young giant swallowed.
"They moved without animals."
Silence.
Even Brugar looked stunned.
"Without animals?"
The scout nodded firmly.
"No horses. No oxen. Nothing pulled them."
The elder slowly looked toward Gorthak.
Neither spoke.
Because once again, they had encountered sothing impossible.
Flying steel beasts.
Moving wagons without animals.
Thunder weapons.
The world beyond the forest sounded increasingly absurd.
The lead scout spoke again.
"We did not approach closer."
A wise decision.
Gorthak would not have ordered otherwise.
The previous night’s encounter had taught him one thing.
The newcors possessed powers his people did not understand.
Approaching carelessly would be foolish.
The chief dismissed the scouts and remained standing on the platform.
His eyes remained fixed toward the west.
Eventually, Brugar spoke.
"Our ancestors feared humans."
"They had reason."
"Perhaps."
The old giant looked thoughtful.
"But I wonder if our ancestors feared the wrong thing."
That finally made Gorthak look at him.
Brugar’s expression remained grim.
"Three hundred years ago, humans fought with steel and fire. They rode horses and marched in lines."
He looked toward the sky.
"These humans fly."
The chief said nothing.
Because he understood.
Whatever existed beyond the forest was not the sa world their ancestors had known.
It had changed.
And perhaps it had changed far more than they could imagine.
A horn suddenly sounded from below.
One long note.
Then another.
Warriors imdiately looked toward the eastern gate.
A ssenger had arrived.
The rider dismounted and hurried through the settlent.
Within minutes, he stood before the platform.
He knelt.
"Chief."
"Speak."
The ssenger looked uneasy.
"The Red River Clan has sent word."
Gorthak frowned.
Another clan.
Interesting.
"What do they want?"
The warrior swallowed.
"They saw the flying beast."
Silence.
Brugar slowly looked toward the chief.
The ssenger continued.
"They request a council."
The platform beca very quiet.
Because that changed everything.
The Black Fang Clan was not alone.
Deep within the Forest of No Return existed other settlents. Smaller. Larger. So friendly. Others hostile.
But all of them shared one thing.
Secrecy.
Now one of them had seen the flying machine.
aning the news was spreading.
Rapidly.
The ssenger lowered his head.
"They believe the outside world has returned."
Gorthak slowly looked toward the western horizon again.
No.
Not returned.
It had never disappeared.
Only his people had hidden themselves.
The realization felt strangely uncomfortable.
For centuries, they had believed the forest protected them.
Now the sky itself had crossed that protection.
He finally turned toward the ssenger.
"Tell the Red River Clan we will attend."
The warrior looked surprised.
A eting between clans was not a small matter.
Especially not among giants.
Yet he quickly bowed.
"Yes, Chief."
The ssenger departed.
Brugar looked thoughtful.
"This will spread."
"Yes."
"Other clans will hear."
"Yes."
"They will panic."
This ti, Gorthak nodded.
Because they would.
So clans still carried deep hatred toward humans. Others feared them. A few had never even seen one.
Now they would hear stories of thunder weapons and flying beasts.
Chaos would follow.
The old giant looked toward him.
"What will you tell them?"
The chief remained silent for several monts.
Below them, the village continued its daily activities.
Children ran between houses.
Farrs headed toward their fields.
Prisoners carried baskets beneath ard guard.
Life continued.
Yet the world had changed.
Eventually, he spoke.
"The truth."
Brugar blinked.
"That may frighten them."
"Good."
The old giant frowned.
Gorthak’s yellow eyes remained fixed on the west.
"They should be frightened."
The statent carried enough weight that the elder did not argue.
Because he understood.
Fear could be useful.
Fear made people cautious.
The chief could not afford recklessness.
Not now.
Not after seeing what the newcors possessed.
The thunder.
The flying beast.
The impossible machines.
A being that underestimated such enemies deserved extinction.
Another thought entered his mind.
The six humans.
They had retreated.
Disciplined.
Controlled.
They had not returned to attack.
That ant sothing.
Perhaps they too were cautious.
Perhaps they too were afraid.
The idea almost made him smile.
Sowhere beyond the forest, those humans were probably discussing him at this very mont.
The giant who threw trees.
The hidden civilization.
The wolves.
The prisoners.
They were learning about one another.
Studying one another.
Preparing.
The thought made him uneasy.
Because preparations led to plans.
Plans led to actions.
And actions led to war.
A cool breeze swept across the platform.
The chief looked toward the endless forest stretching to the west.
For the first ti in his life, he wondered what existed beyond those trees.
How many people lived there?
How many flying beasts?
How many thunder weapons?
The answers frightened him.
Yet another feeling erged alongside that fear.
Curiosity.
The sa curiosity he had seen in the six humans on the ridge.
Perhaps that was what made this situation dangerous.
Neither side fully understood the other.
Both wanted answers.
And history had often shown that misunderstandings between civilizations rarely ended peacefully.
Far above the settlent, hidden beyond the clouds, a Predator drone continued circling silently.
Its caras recorded everything.
The eting on the platform.
The ssenger.
The movent of warriors.
The activities within the village.
The hidden civilization did not know it.
But even now...
The sky was still watching.
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