Kanaft flew, and the knight sank–both increasing in speed–focusing more and more the faster he went, and spiraling further the deeper he sank. It was alien to the bird–to see someone so gifted, so strong, with a presence of someone who had won wars single handedly–just, shut down, completely. There was a fragment of a legend that inhabited the entirety of the legends body. Where the rest of the shards had gone, Kanaft did not know, but he was concerned either way. The tapping of Kanaft's beak grew louder, sounding more like the thunderous booms of an iron giant's thumping steps, and only then, did the knight's perception shatter.
The world cracked with sound. The darkness flashed the familiar sparkle of instantaneous light from the primordial fight above. The knight gasped loudly, his pupils shook, and his frame ballooned to its former size. The sensation of being present flooded his mind–the distant things that he had felt all hitting him simultaneously. The pleasure of living washed away the calamitous breakdown in less time than it had lasted. The small sensations of the world–God's world–comforting him, and then it really hit him.
The winds screamed in his ear, it fought back against him, and it was winning the skirmish. Ducking, the knight laid himself as flat as he could against the bed of black, matted flowers–still so comfortable to be on. He tried to shout out to Kanaft, but his voice did not carry the presence–the authority it had held in the past and the shout was simply carried away, and drowned out by the wind–at least to his ears.
"Kanaft! Slowdown!" The knight shrieked. He was all one for going fast, but not right now–there was still turmoil to settle–there was still emotion to bury, and memories to strangle, and even though the knight couldn't even make out his voice, he was given an ear-piercing caw in return for his misgivings, and in no time at all, they had begun to slow.
The winds remained violently obnoxious for a hair longer–before they were even louder, because the bird decided to fly even faster, but only momentarily. Just as the knight was beginning to slip from his terrified grasp of the ravens feathers, they had landed–from what it seemed.
Blinking, the knight looked into the darkness that drenched his vision, only barely able to pinpoint the equally black charred bark far beneath him as he sat on the perched bird's back. When another flash of light fed the forest, the knight quickly absorbed his surroundings.
They sat atop a branch that was entangled with another from a nearby tree–it was like the pair of trees which touched the sky were holding hands, forever holding the one they cherished the most. Kanaft was currently looking directly up–likely noticing something from a much greater distance than he himself could see–or maybe this bird was feeling something–nostalgia perhaps? There was no way to know for certain, so instead, he focused once again on the scene that revealed itself to him.
Over to the far off right–the knight spotted a snake the size of Kanaft, roughly, its brown scales shimmered with a beauty that could not be presented in the darkness. The snake was seemingly tracking some form of prey–maybe a deer, but he could not see anything that the slithering giant could be tracking. Shifting his eyes down swiftly, the knight gazed at what would usually be a void of black, now lit up almost blindingly so, yet, he still could not make out the surface of the pyro-engineered forest, it gave him an odd chill in the arid environment.z Before, the surface was not such a far distance from them–now, however, not even the beginning of the enormous roots could be seen–a quizzical expression found its way onto the knight's face.
'How long have I been rotting?' There was a certain wonder that permeated the knight as he looked about the forest. It all looked different somehow–the forest felt purpose-filled before, yet now, there was a blanket of hesitance in the forest–even the sky above had stopped flashing for longer than it should have–or at least that's what he told himself.
After investigating, the knight let go of a shuttering breath that was a second too close to becoming a sob. In the tangible silence of the forest, it was a tide wave, an insignificant, yet insurmountable tidal wave. Kanaft didn't say anything–nor did he inscribe anything in fire–he twitched with an emotion the nameless knight did not know, which melded into a shudder racking the feathered, pyrotechnic, and lead to the decline of the knights body from the birds back and his descent to the surface of the tree.
With a warm thunk, the knight landed on the charred branches, the intelligent darkness consumed the realm he trekked, and the minor waterfall of ash that fell from the heavens continued its trickling snowfall, leaving a layer of black on the weary, worn red. Just as the knight landed on the branch, a plume of red, wild flames erupted in front of Kanaft, a short distance away from the knight. There was something tangible in the heavy atmosphere that had swelled obnoxiously in the short time the silence was left unaccounted for. Hesitantly, the knight took his first steps towards the fire, allowing the crackling of the unnatural torch to sooth him as he made his approach–helping him build and solidify himself for the tirade he knew would come. Though he could only vaguely remember, the knight knew he had caused the bird trouble after asking who he was, and there was no telling how Kanaft would respond after such an event, so he kept his guard up. Rising Tide may still be out of commission, but his left hook was the most destructive that it had ever been. Plus, his shield could counter the creatures of this forest with no effort at all. He was prepared for anything.
After finally entering the darkest part of the gradient between the light and the dark, the knight felt his suspicion drain, and his shoulders slump the slightest. The imperceptible heat licked his helmet, therefore his face–it was warm, yet not inviting, but instead, it was comforting. The embrace of the dancing flame gnawed on him gently the closer he got to the flame–the more he enjoyed the comfort. In the black forest, there was the small mouse of light in the giant home of the phoenix.
It wasn't long after that the knight and Kanaft were standing side by side, staring into the flame with equal intensity–for reasons neither could decipher about the other. He was in the middle of an active war zone–at least that's what the knight figured it was, and yet, he still lowered himself and sat on the surprisingly cold, ashen branch the two had landed on. There was something so calming about staring into a fire–like a cleansing, if the knight tried to put a finger on it. The serendipity that flowed off the small embers of fire which strayed too far from the main body seemed to gravitate towards the knight. The chill that had crept through his body, and lingered for far too long lost its battle to the incorruptible forces of flame. The memories of the past seemed to fade ever-so-slightly as the knight stared into the fire–letting it incinerate him, cleanse him.
The tension burned, but didn't blow away like the ash in the wind. Kanaft simply let the elder calm himself. There was a difficulty in the knight's breathing prior to him sitting in front of the conjured fire that healed with a will of its own. The bird did not miss the knight–which had been akin to a loaded spring when they first met, and a distressed, incongruent mess not a minute prior, started to allow himself the comfort of the flame. The dispersing of his negativity was insurmountable compared to the latent corruption, but Kanaft knew it was but the beginning of this tattered human's healing–even the knight did not know it himself.
In the red hot embers that carried in the gentle breeze were the soothing words of a thousand souls singing–calming the nameless knight like a view of the sunset against a calm sea–like an evening read under the tree of her mothers tree. He didn't feel worthy, yet he accepted the feeling–the bitterness chiseling itself away. How long the pair sat in front of the fire, the knight did not know, but in the burning confidence of the fire, he saw the eyes of the raven–Kanaft, observing him through his creation–not saying anything, just the patience of someone wise. Slowly, the words slipped through the no longer gritted teeth.
"I have no name, Kanaft–" His voice cracked, the pain seeping into his voice shuddering his breath again, which was only growing more anxious despite the inviting flame, so the fire shifted.
"Breath. Elder–you are fine," The words felt like a brick wall to the knight. His breathing slowed, and his mind sharpened. Though the words were cold–and there was no way to know for certain how the bird wished the knight to interpret the words, but through a harsh or soft tone, it didn't matter, the knight still got the message–and continued.
"But I have a purpose–wrongs to right, and someone to talk to." He was walking on eggshells, carefully maneuvering with his limited verbal acrobatics–avoiding directly or indirectly revealing anything.
Kanaft didn't respond–he simply released some of his grip on the fire, allowing the thick flame to return to its initial position, and they sat once again in silence for a time, neither in rush–both–just, curious. The fire danced, and the wind blew. The ambience of the forest had returned, and feeling returned to the purposefilled one. The arid air filled his lungs with every enormous gulp of oxygen, and he couldn't help but shut his eyes. It all turned itself off, one sensation at a time till only the hymn of a crackling bush fire remained, and he remained this way till the crackling was no longer frequent in his ears.
Opening his eyes, the knight took in all the forsaken sensations for a moment–letting them overwhelm him. Creeping onto the face beyond the red helmet was a small smile, a small gesture that the forest itself seemed to have recognized as the forest flushed with a light unlike any other–a deep rooted green engulfed the surroundings for as far as the knight could see, before, nearly instantaneously, flickering out of the world, but the single moment was more than the knight needed.
Zoning back into the fire, he was quick to read the words of fire that were quickly becoming more and more legible, "We're approaching the canopy–where I was born–where the great ones nest. Green is what bathed the forest prior to my birth–I have never seen it before. Be wary of the canopy–it is diseased–a plague ravages my birth place."
The knight didn't feel as surprised as he thought he should've been to know that the bird in front of him was of much greater importance than he had initially thought–though he did have an inkling of a suspicion of something like this being true–Kanaft is just too grand–his presence was just so much larger than the populace of the understorey. As for the flash of green being from phoenix–it was intriguing, but, alas, there was nothing to comment on, so he simply moved onto the next thing. Then, finally, there was this 'disease' which, was somehow even more vaguely alluded to, like the bid was trying to avoid the subject–something the knight found more curious than the disease itself, but he knew a touchy subject when he saw it, so he decided not to question further.
"Well then–let us leave, Kanaft–for your land."