My aim still wasn't good enough.

Luca had been right on one thing at least. Ever since I began using my own bow, one I made myself, instead of my father's, my aim had gotten better. It was still off, though, and that meant some of my arrows were getting damaged during target practice. They weren't beyond repair, but it was cutting down on the number of shots I could attempt between collecting my arrows each time.

I took a deep breath, visualizing it; picturing my arrow hitting the carefully marked lines on the bale a few yards from me. A deep breath, then I let go.

Zhhhhiiiip!

The arrow sank perfectly into my target, and I couldn't help but smirk a little. Pride at success during practice was wasted, granted, but it was still enough that Zed chirped for me from his perch on my quiver.

"That's the last one," I told him, slinging my bow and walking over to retrieve my arrows. The small green bird hopped off and fluttered away, clutching one of my stray shots in his claws and bringing it back to me. The sight alone gave me another smile. His tiny wings seemed far too little to support him, but they managed somehow. At the very least, he was powerful enough to return an arrow twice as long as he was tall to my hand before dutifully flying off for another.

"Better," came a voice from behind me, and my smile faded even before he continued, "but you're still taking too much time."

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"The Stantler won't stand still like that bale of hay. When they come through on their way south, you'll be lucky if they even slow to a walk."

Luca was one of the oldest people I knew, and easily one of the oldest people in the village. He'd finally retired from the hunts the year before, when a bull Stantler had cost him his right eye. Despite the missing eye, he still helped train the new hunters.

"I know, I need to learn to react faster, and to trust my instincts," I recited, sliding the last of my arrows back into my quiver. "But my instincts still say-"

"That you'd be better off working on the traps, I know. And you would indeed be good there. But you'll be better as an archer. Trust me."

I nodded, glancing back at the target. Luca had trained my father, too, when he'd been my age some 20 years before, so I had no doubts he had an eye for good archers.

"The hunt is soon. You need to be ready, or you'll have to wait another year."

"Let's go, Zed."

My Natu landed back on my shoulder and we left without another word to Luca. It was disrespectful for an Apprentice to question their Master. I wasn't an adult yet, so I had no place to tell him I thought he was wrong. Leaving – ignoring his words – was my only choice expressing my disapproval.

He was right, of course. Zed and I hadn't come as far in the last year as we should have. Soon the herds would come and it would be the New Year – by the next full moon, for sure. And if I was going to stop being an Apprentice at 14 like the rest of my peers, I'd have to bring in a kill on the Stantler hunt. The herds would only be nearby for a few days, and in that time we needed to get as much meat as possible. The Growing season didn't have as high of a quota as the Ice Bridge season did, since local wildlife was more plentiful and plants would be growing. But the more meat we brought, the better the feast would be for New Year...

I'd talk to Luné, see if I could go on one last smaller hunt before the Stantler were sighted. Practicing on something smaller but still moving, unlike the practice targets, would help me get my timing right. Maybe I'd get a Bidoof this time.

I left the archery range and hurried up the stairs toward the center of town. Instinctively I reached above me as I passed under one of the upper skyways, extending my fingers toward it. I still wasn't tall enough to reach it, but I was sure I would be soon. The entire village spanned several levels; surrounding the central plaza in all directions except straight up and down. As a result, there were bridges and stairs everywhere to connect it all. That wooden bridge I couldn't quite touch yet was one of the more recent ones; new enough that I could remember a time before it existed, and was probably the lowest one in town.

I crossed the plaza in a hurry – eager to get free from the crowd – and clamored up a narrow southern staircase to the uppermost level. There were faster ways to get home than going up to go down, but those main paths were always full of more people than I even knew lived in Mulberry. In its own way, this way took less time, and it gave me a clearer view of the sky above and the central plaza below. The sun was still high enough that its light filled the cavern, illuminating the three crystals that sat in the center of town.

There were at hundred different versions of the tale of how the gods had saved Mulberry Village when the cold had taken hold of the land, leaving three crystals – the Guardians of the Frozen Sea, Flaming Earth, and Storming Sky – to protect us. It happened so many generations ago that most people assumed it really was a legend by now, and few were sure if the crystals really gifted the village with warmth and clear weather as they were said to.

Even the non-believers were unwilling to test the legends, however, and I couldn't see why anyone would want to. The trio of crystals was a beautiful sight; each cluster was easily double my height, and cast a glow in a different color. Even if they had no other mystical powers, this light both gave the village extra protection at night, and helped serve as our calendar.

Right now the red crystal – Flaming Earth – still glowed brighter than the other two, keeping us warm for the winter, but the yellow had begun to outshine the blue already. By now Storming Sky cast a visible light during the day again, and once it was brighter than the red again, the Stantler would return and the New Year's Festival would happen. The first rains would happen once Flaming Earth had faded to cast the same dim glow as Frozen Sea, and things would stay that way until the Growing Season passed.

Today I found myself pausing to gaze at the Guardian crystals, a slight uneasiness filling me at the red light. As I stared, I felt Zed's talons tighten on my shoulder, his feathers fluffing like he was cold. I swallowed hard, pushing down the sudden urge to run, and reached up to pat him softly.

"It's okay, I'm sorry," I assured him, smoothing his feathers. "I'm just anxious about the New Year."

I made it to the end of the skyway, casting one more glance back at the Guardians-

The sky went dark, just for an instant, and in the next, I was on my knees, clutching the rope side of the bridge desperately as it swung violently.

It was hard to tell which was more deafening; the explosion, or the screams that followed it. Tiny bits of crystal and rock rained everywhere, flying far and high enough that I felt a few strike me, but I was far too horror-struck to be bothered by them. I dragged myself back to my feet, trying to get a better look at the plaza, but the smoke was just too thick.

Out of the corner of my eye, something black seemed to pass across the sky again. I turned to look, but too late; it was already gone, if it had been anything but smoke to begin with.

I dashed for the nearest staircase – not the path I'd intended to take before, but one that would take me back down to the central level, so I could see the damage more clearly. I turned at the bottom of the stairs, then stopped in my tracks as I realized I had a duty more important than my curiosity.

"Mother."

I raced across the path, Zed fluttering his wings to keep balance as I made several sharp turns, hopping down three or four steps at a time on the next staircase I had to climb, trying to return home as fast as possible. Mother and I lived on one of the lowest levels of the village, and sometimes I wished there were ladders to connect us to the higher floors, instead of the steps carved into the cavern wall. I stumbled down the last few as I tried to turn again too soon, and finally hit our door, only to turn around as I realized she was standing outside already.

"Oh! You're alright!" she shouted, throwing her arms around me.

"I am," I answered, hugging her tightly for a moment.

"What's going on?"

I shook my head. "I... Nothing good. There was an explosion in the plaza, and I think-"

"The Guardian of the Flaming Earth was destroyed!"

I turned around to find one of our neighbors leaning, breathless, at the bottom of the stairs. "Town meeting," they panted, then, "Masters and Journeymen only, I'm afraid, but if you could help tell everyone..."

I nodded. Apprentices – those not yet adults, but still within a craft – were rarely included on meetings like this, and children certainly weren't. I felt a slight frustration at being unable to go, since I'd seen the explosion, but for now I knew my place.

"Wait!" my mother shouted as I turned to run down the path, grabbing my hand. "...Be careful. Go straight back home after you tell our row."

I squeezed her hand and nodded once more. I knew I was all she had left, so she was worried. "Of course."