When they had initially found that the forest could change and adapt to the entrants decisions, it had first baffled them. Now it was just boring. It watched them, trying to observe how the two fledglings would navigate its unpredictable horrors. Pluto's being still ached from yesterday, but his mind banged even worse. Every snap in the forest set him off, and ever spike in his heart rate threatened to bring him closer to that dreaded power. Mira had slowly taken the mantle of leadership from him. Her stride was sharper and she moved with naive instinct. Together they traversed the world of mud and roots, careful to avoid what could kill them– which was anything.
The mist kept stakes high, thick and thin everywhere all at once. It curled and twisted like a writhing living being. The damp earth swallowed their footsteps, masking their trails well– but not entirely. Because even he could feel that they were being watched.
He frowned. It didn't feel like the trio. It felt like something else, something more intelligent. It wasn't something they could outrun.
"Do you feel that?" He asked, his voice almost consumed by space before it reached her.
Mira didn't answer. She dragged her steps and tried to covertly look around. She could feel something too. A presence– not the one that watched from above the canopies, but in its similar niche. It was calculating, and playful. Two qualities that made her spine tingle.
Ahead, a patch of trees rustled in a way that wind couldn't produce. A shadow drifted along a branch seemingly too small to support its weight. Pluto stiffened.
A pair of golden eyes blinked amusedly, its glow radiating intelligence. The shape of its head was tucked in accordance to only one creature.
It was an owl– but not like any he had seen in nature documentaries. It held breaths with its ancient presence.
"Well," its voice was smooth and clear, echoing against itself. "You've managed to enter my domain with any gifts. Lucky, perhaps."
Pluto's mouth dried up before he thought of speaking. Mira's hands twitched, wanting to fight till she remembered her had almost been killed by a tree. The owl's eyes shimmered with a fairy-like tone.
"You...talk?" Mira incredulously said.
The owl tilted its head animatedly, playful or creepy depending. Its feathers softly rustled with its movements. " Do I? Or are you the one who simply hears what is not said? Names, questions, answers, they are all concepts of the mind, all parts of the same game. But yes, I can speak. I can listen. I can judge. And I hunger."
Pluto took a step back, falling to stop himself from doing so. "Hunger? Food here is a scarce resource."
The owl's eyes widened mischievously. "Not for food, little fledgling. Not food in the way you understand it. I hunger for sustenance, for a certain clarity."
Mira joined Pluto a few steps away. "You mean...humans?"
The owl turned to her, taking its time doing so, Its aura flickering with menace. "Your blood, your destiny at destination, your potential. Not forcefully though, not forced by my hands at least. In exchange, I will speak. I will grant you a sliver of knowledge, enough to test your wits, or seal your end."
Pluto's stomach grumbled and sank beyond the horizon of his nose. Suddenly he found himself wishing for the savage predators he had encountered before. Because none made him feel this small, none gave him a choice when it already knew his actions.
"So you want us to squeeze the blood out of someone and bring it to you?"
The owl's eyes glimmered with amusement, slightly surprised at the limits of her imagination. " No...I just want the battle seed."
Mira's eyes flooded with confusion, the words hammering into her. " A what?"
The owl adjusted its position on the branch a bit, finding a better balance before speaking. " When one of you falls, when an entrant's life is extinguished, a core remains. A seed. A fragment of the self that does not wither with the body. That's my currency. My tribute. If you wish to know about this place beyond what your shallow understanding can ascertain, you will provide one."
Pluto clenched his fists till they whitened. His mind travelled. The concept was stark but terrifying. Someone in exchange for something. A life in exchange for words.
Mira observing him for a while, and to her surprise, he was actually considering the offer. " I can't...I can't do that to anyone. Not for anyone."
Pluto's sigh reached her. He felt exhaustion pulling taut on his will, albeit slightly. "Mira," he said quietly, a bit of shame in his tone. "This isn't a game of morals, it's a game of survival. If we want to have any chance of moving forward, if we want to save alive..." He gulped down. "...we may not have another choice."
Mira shook her head disapprovingly. Her eyes were patches of disbelief, angry and fear. "You think this is the only way?" She asked. " Murder?"
Pluto lowered his head, avoiding her gaze. The forest had succeeded in making even his steps a question, so what was a few more. "You think we can run forever?" He asked, throwing a question back at her.
He looked up. " They're out there. And sooner or later, they'll catch us, or we'll run, and run into something worse. I didn't survive yesterday to throw today's chance away."
The owl spread out slightly, savoring the tension. "Ah... morals versus murder. A choice, or perhaps a well crafted lie. The forest has its logic, and if you don't reason with it...the consequences might be worse than guilty."
Mira's hands trembled, brushing against her conscience. She looked at Pluto and dreaded his response.
"And if we refuse?"
The owl turned to her sharply, almost annoyed. " I am patient. But patience has a limit. Return another time with the seed I desire, or risk seeking answers else and fail to survive the attempt."
Pluto clenched his teeth. "So we either kill someone now, or die trying to find another way."
It was his own mumble, but the owl still replied. "Precisely."
Mira shot out. "No. I won't do it. Not now. Never."
Pluto's shoulders sagged slightly, the moral weight pressing down on him more than exhausted. Frustration was another key factor.
He couldn't feel the eel pick sides. It didn't shift in favour to certain words. It just laid dormant, patient and ready to act if necessary. He swallowed. " Then we need to find another way," he didn't believe his words, his confidence rang too lightly. "Somehow, someway, we'll survive...and deal with the consequences later."
The owl spread its wings, swirling mist around to completely reveal its figure. "So be it," it declared. " I shall watch. I shall wait, because I've seen what happens to those who don't yield to hierarchy. Those who hesitate too long often become my meal, unwilling or otherwise."
Pluto had already left before it finished its dramatic declaration. He knew that murder was the only occupation that existed here, but to be forced into doing it, was something he couldn't swallowed lightly.
Mira spoke soon after they left its "domain", her voice low and urgent.
"We can't stay here. It's too dangerous with things like that around."
Pluto nodded. "I know. But we'll have to thread carefully. No branch or shadow is safe."
The owl's golden eyes trailed them, watching gleefully as their paranoia led them aimlessly. It disappeared briefly, but never failed to reappear on a different branch a few metres closer. It spoke once again. "Think on what I asked, think on the coin that buys knowledge...or let the forest teach you lessons in a more... permanent way."
Pluto exhaled annoyingly. He had heard of cunning creatures in movies and novels before, but never one that chased like a nervous salesman. Mira, who had originally been the outright rejector, seemed much more pale resisting the thought of raising the payment. The tension between them was silent but palpable. He knew that she was defined by her morals, so she would not act against it. He knew that life, of anyone, was important to her, and she would try to preserve it when she could. And yet, in this forest, survival sometimes demanded compromises that hurt more than any blade.
***
They moved in silence for a long stretch, temporarily forgetting about the tedious topography and the almost blinding mist. The faint creak of the woods was quite peaceful. The owl had stopped following them, but Its presence still lingered, engraved in the bones the trees bore.
Mira finally broke the silence. "Do you think it will come back?"
"It should," he answered flatly. " And next time, it will be expecting an answer."
She glanced at her warily. " That's beyond our limits, Pluto."
"It is," he admitted quickly. " But that doesn't matter. Limits are just words in this scenario."
The forest shifted into a maze, constantly redrawing its map. And strangely, Pluto's eel did not offer direction, so they could only mislead themselves with the best of their intuition.
The owl's words echoed themselves around the walls of his brain, too loud to ignore, too evil to obey.
Someone in exchange for something. But for now, they moved on.
But the unseen weight of choice hung heavy, along with the golden eyes of the owl, shaping every cautious step into the unknown.