The Deep Forest (8)

It's been nearly three years since I began pouring power into the immortal bird's egg.

In truth, it was getting pretty tough.

The hardest part was the boredom—the days never changed.

I wouldn't go hungry, since if I wandered around the area, the trees would share their fruit with me.

But a life of eating nothing but fruit got boring pretty quickly, too.

I kept up my sword training as part of my daily routine, but all I did was practice swings with a wooden sword I'd whittled from a conveniently sized branch; I hadn't drawn the sword at my waist.

That was because I thought it might be too provocative for the other high elves who occasionally watched me.

The immortal bird's egg was cute, responding every time I poured power into it, but that didn't mean it could serve as a conversation partner.

Lately, I'd started talking to the egg, and my talking to myself had increased a little.

In short, my desire to leave the deep forest had been building more and more intensely.

A leisurely life wasn't bad by any means, but the slow life just wasn't for me.

I had no memory of becoming a dwarf, but even so, I felt as though I couldn't survive without smithing, drinking, and eating meat.

It was because my body wasn't asking for those things to stay alive; my heart was.

If the immortal bird's egg was going to take much longer to hatch, I should consider leaving the deep forest and spending some time outside, then returning when the opportunity arose.

No, "consider" was putting it too mildly. I was genuinely nearing my limit, so perhaps I should stop pouring power into it for now, starting today.

That was when I made up my mind.

A large crack appeared in the immortal bird's egg with a sharp, dry sound.

...Huh? No, wait—isn't that a little unfair?

The timing was almost too perfect. More than that, I felt bad for wanting to leave, and the reaction was so much like it had read my mind that I couldn't quite find the words.

Maybe it had only been unable to speak because it was an egg, and the immortal bird had actually heard and understood all my muttering until now.

I couldn't help feeling a little unsettled, but after pouring power into it for three years and finally seeing signs that it was about to hatch, I couldn't bring myself to say, "I'll stop for now and leave the deep forest."

Over those three years, I'd worn away several fragments of the Golden Dragon's scales, but they had been something I had no particular use for to begin with, so it wasn't a problem.

In fact, I honestly had more than I knew what to do with, so I'd have liked to use them all up if possible—but at the rate I was going, it would take decades just to use up all the scale fragments in my bag.

So, thinking this would be my final push, I rubbed the Golden Dragon's scale against my mithril bracelet with all my strength.

Power poured through the hand I had placed against the egg, and the fissure spread wider in response.

Knowing this would be the last time, even the sensation of my body serving as a conduit for that power was rather enjoyable.

At first, the power passing through me had brought heat and pain, but by now I'd grown completely accustomed to it.

The shell began to crack with a series of sharp, dry sounds.

I could tell that whatever was inside the egg was moving, trying to break through the shell and get out.

The egg was huge, so it was only natural, but the contents were quite large as well.

Now that it had reached this stage, there was probably no need to keep pouring power into it. More importantly, I was liable to get caught up in its thrashing as it tried to smash through the shell, so I hurriedly backed away.

The scarlet color glimpsed through the gaps in the cracked shell—was that the immortal bird's body color, or perhaps the color of its feathers?

After retreating to a safe distance and watching for a while, I saw a large chick emerge from the broken egg, its body a deep, vivid red.

It was large, but with a piece of eggshell still perched on its head, it looked, ah, incredibly adorable.

For a moment, the words "dyed chick" crossed my mind, but naturally I didn't say them aloud.

It wouldn't have understood me anyway.

The newly hatched chick stared straight at me, then came closer, one step and then another.

Since the chick was larger than me, it was quite imposing, but I felt no danger or fear.

Far from it, I found it adorable, even endearing.

Was this a species-level affection for the immortal bird as a high elf, or affection born from having poured power into it and hatched it with my own hands—or both?

In any case, when I reached toward the large body approaching me, the chick rubbed its head against my outstretched hand.

Ah, what an astonishing feel.

It was incredibly fluffy despite having just been born.

If I buried myself in it and slept, it would surely be wonderfully comfortable... No, its body temperature was so high that I'd just be hot and unable to sleep.

"Good morning, immortal bird."

When I greeted it, the chick chirped back.

But through the hand I had placed on it, I could also sense the chick's thoughts.

'Please call me Scarlet. Because of this body's color, that is what I was called long ago. There are other members of my kind known as immortal birds. Therefore, since you are the one who hatched me, I would like you to call me Scarlet, a word that refers only to me.'

...Or something like that.

It certainly seemed to like me quite a lot, but was something like imprinting at work in addition to the species-level compatibility between a high elf and an immortal bird?

Ah, yes. Once the egg hatched, next came the chick.

Well, that was only natural, but even I couldn't possibly ask a chick to carry me on its back and fly me into the sky.

If I did ask, I had a feeling Scarlet would be saddened by being unable to fulfill my request, which made me even less willing to say it aloud.

"Ah, Scarlet, you're nice to the touch. Will you still be this fluffy when you grow up?"

So instead, I said something completely different and buried myself in its soft fluff.

I put on a slightly playful tone and spoke brightly, as if to hide my disappointment.

'It will change when I grow up. However, I guarantee that my adult feathers will feel just as good as they do now. Please wait just a little while. Once I grow up, I will certainly grant your wish.'

But Scarlet must have seen right through my feelings.

That was the thought that came through to me.

Ah, now that I think about it, I'd told it, while it was still an egg, to take me above the clouds once it hatched.

So Scarlet really had been able to hear my words even then.

"Yes, thank you. I'll look forward to it."

I said that, then savored its warmth and softness.

I wondered how long "a little" was by an immortal bird's sense of time.

Ten or twenty years, or perhaps more than a hundred?

It sounded as though it might be a very long "little while," but I'd wait.

Scarlet must have known how long high elves lived when it said "a little while," and Airena, an ordinary elf, still had several hundred years left to live.

I should have plenty of time to wait.

For now, I planned to spend a little more time with Scarlet like this, then leave the deep forest and entrust what came afterward to Salix.

Until the day Scarlet grew up and I rode on its back toward the clouds, I would enjoy the outside world.

I might come back from time to time to check on things, but yes, next time I intended to visit this deep forest more openly, with my head held high.

Because this was, without a doubt, my homeland.