Audrey sat on the forest floor with her hands hovering over a small pile of twigs and sticks. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and she was trying hard to ignore the sweat that beaded on her forehead and slid down her temples.
"Don't forget to breathe, Audrey," Welkin said softly. "Your face is turning an alarming shade of red."
"I am breathing," Audrey huffed, though she took a subtle pull of air in through her nose anyway.
Even with her eyes closed, she could tell that the sun had set. The night air hung around her, cool and damp, and goosebumps crawled across her skin. An involuntary shiver rattled her from the inside out.
"What are you feeling?" Welkin asked with far more patience than Audrey deserved. For more than an hour she'd been trying, and failing, to follow their guidance. Again she gritted her teeth and scanned her thoughts and body, searching for an inkling of the power that fell a tree and set paper aflame. Audrey knew it was in there somewhere, but she just couldn't seem to find it.
"Cold," she admitted bitterly, "and hungry." With a frustrated sigh, she dropped her hands into her lap and opened her eyes. "Why can't I do this?"
From across the cold fire pit, Welkin smiled kindly. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Learning to control the energies around you is no small task. I don't expect you to master it overnight."
"But I've done it before! And those times I wasn't even trying!"
"Exactly," Welkin said, as if that settled anything. They held their hands over the small pile of wood. A spark flashed in the space between and bit into the kindling like a viper. Within seconds a proper campfire was crackling away, warming Audrey's skin but cooling her heart. She deflated into a defeated slouch as Welkin circled the fire and settled down again beside her. "It's alright, daughter. We'll try again tomorrow."
Audrey sat back on her hands and stared into the flames. She knew they were right—that learning to do anything well required time and practice—but that didn't make this failure any less demoralizing. Plus there was the haunting specter of potential danger to contend with; the knowing that she could cause real damage without even meaning to.
"What are you thinking about?" Welkin asked, breaking up her private self-pity party. She blinked a few times to bring herself back to the moment, and considered how best to answer.
"I'm thinking about what will happen to me if I can't figure this out," Audrey answered honestly. She sat up and brushed the dirt and pine needles off her palms. Her hands looked so normal. Was it really possible for her to use such unremarkable tools to manipulate the world around her? "Will I have to spend the rest of my life living alone in the woods because I might accidentally hurt someone? Like, is this all I am now?"
Welkin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's rather bleak, don't you think?"
"I know, but..." Audrey hesitated. Even if she could figure out how to describe what she was feeling, she wondered if it was possible for Welkin to understand. They were an immortal creature with an important purpose — their existence meant something. Did they have any idea what it was like to feel so incredibly small? "Nevermind. I'm just being dramatic, I guess."
With a click of their tongue, Welkin stared her down. "Well, to answer your question: no — you won't have to spend the rest of your life as a hermit, even if you never learn how to manage your abilities. Though, I think you're getting ahead of yourself."
Audrey picked at the seam of her jeans to avoid looking at them. She thought that if Welkin looked into her eyes, they'd be able to see just how vulnerable she felt. "What's the point?"
"The point of what?"
"Of learning how to control my abilities," Audrey said, biting her lip. "Like, aside from making sure I don't accidentally blow something up. What difference will it make?"
Welkin frowned. "I feel as though I'm missing something. Shouldn't that be—"
They stopped abruptly. Their eyes combed the forest just beyond the fire's glow. Something about their sudden focus on something she couldn't see sent a chill down Audrey's spine. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but Welkin waved a hand, signaling for her to stay quiet as they rose to their feet.
"Show yourself," Welkin demanded of the shadows. "I know you're there."
If they were afraid of whatever was out there, Audrey couldn't tell. Perhaps it was their fearlessness that allowed her to stay calm. Her mind churned curiously, wondering how Welkin knew they weren't alone. Had they heard something? Sensed something in the breeze? Whatever the tell was, Audrey had missed it.
The peaceful night sounds were drowned out by a deep, smokey laugh that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. The hairs on the back of Audrey's neck stood on end as she looked instinctively to Welkin for reassurance. She noticed a nearly imperceptible smile tug at one corner of Welkin's mouth.
"No need to use that tone with me, oh golden one," said the voice in the trees. Welkin rolled their eyes.
"What is that?" Audrey hissed.
The voice laughed again. Audrey heard the rustling of foliage and footfalls that advanced slowly, deliberately closer. Suddenly, something materialized from the gloom; a silvery white figure standing out in stark contrast against the dark forest. Audrey blinked and shook her head, trying to make sense of what she was seeing as the creature slinked into the open. It looked a bit like a mountain lion, which set off alarm bells in her mind, but its coat was silver. Tufts of downy soft fur extended off the tips of its ears, and a glossy mane hung regally around its shoulders and down its chest. A pair of magenta eyes stared unblinking from the creature's massive head, its sights locked on Audrey with unwavering intensity. To Audrey's enormous shock, the creature rose up onto its powerful hind legs and stood humanlike on the other side of the campfire. Then, it smiled at her.
"Apologies for not announcing myself sooner," said the giant cat with its sharp-toothed grin. "You were so deep in concentration, and I didn't want to interrupt."
Audrey's mouth fell open. "What the fu—"
"Emandi," Welkin said, speaking over her. They folded their long arms across their chest and narrowed their gaze with an expression that was difficult to read. "This certainly is a surprise."
"A pleasant one, I'm sure," replied Emandi with obvious delight. Crouching back onto all fours, the giant cat padded swiftly around the fire to Audrey, who jumped to her feet with her heart in her throat. Her primal instincts screamed at her to run from such a colossal predator, but it was her trust in Welkin that kept her rooted to the spot. Even on all fours, the top of Emandi's head came up to her shoulders. She held her breath and watched their long whiskers twitch as they gave her an inquisitive sniff.
"Well, well," Emandi drawled, their magenta eyes twinkling with mirth in the firelight. They sat back on their haunches and lifted their gaze to Welkin, who stiffened under the scrutiny. "It seems you have some explaining to do, old friend."
Welkin balked. "I don't have to explain anything to—"
But the creature ignored Welkin's indignation. They had turned their attention back to Audrey and held a strangely dexterous paw out to her. "I am Emandi. Who might you be?"
Without thinking, Audrey laid her hand in Emandi's paw. When they shook it, she couldn't help but laugh. "My name's Audrey."
"A lovely name to go with such—" they paused to shoot Welkin a knowing look "—lovely eyes. Tell me, Audrey — has anyone ever told you that you look like a Starborn?"
Audrey perked up. "Actually, Welkin says—"
"That's enough!" Welkin said, swooping between Audrey and Emandi and wedging them apart.
"Hey!" Audrey squawked. "Rude!"
"You dog!" Emandi said, laughing at Welkin's affronted scowl. "You sly old fox! When did this happen? Does the Council know? Oh, I want every juicy detail. I demand it!"
Audrey glanced up at Welkin and was surprised to see them squirming with discomfort. "Why are you here, Emandi?" the Star spat. "Surely you haven't come all this way just to be a thorn in my side."
The mood turned cold the moment Emandi stopped laughing. "I should ask you the same thing," they said with an accusatory tilt of their mighty head. "I'm far less out of place in this forest than you."
"Oh, are you a forest spirit too?" Audrey asked as she took a small step closer to the cat. She was fighting the urge to reach out and pet the temptingly soft fluff of their ears.
"I told you — I am Emandi."
This didn't answer Audrey's question in the slightest. "I thought that was your name?"
"It is," Emandi said. "I am my name and my name is me."
Welkin pinched the bridge of their nose and sighed. "Must you always speak in riddles?" They turned to Audrey. "You remember the Old Stories, don't you? Do you recall the one your mother liked to tell you when you were young and couldn't sleep?"
"The one about the Moon falling in love with the Ocean and the Sun with the Earth?" she replied. It had been a long time since she'd last thought about the creation myth — her mother's favorite legend of all the Old Stories — and she had to pull at her memories to recall the details. "I don't remember all the details — just something about them giving birth to the first life on earth."
"For our purposes, that's the only part that matters," Emandi said.
"And so the union between the Moon and Ocean brought forth the flora, while the Sun and Earth gave life to fauna," Welkin recited as if reading from a manuscript. They motioned toward the great cat. "The Emandi were the first fauna."
"And here I sit, after so many Millenia, the last of the first true children of the Sun and Earth," Emandi muttered darkly.
The wheels of Audrey's mind churned as she attempted to parse this information. "Wait... by first do you actually mean, first first? As in, you're literally one of the first creatures to ever exist?" Emandi nodded, and Audrey felt her brain turn to confetti in her skull. "How is that even possible?"
Rather than answer her, Emandi swung around to Welkin, their hefty tail nearly taking Audrey out at the knees as it whipped across the ground. They jabbed a clawed finger at Welkin's chest.
"It won't be possible for much longer if your kind gets their way," Emandi snarled.
The Star flinched, clearly taken aback. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't insult me, golden one. After centuries of friendship I expected better of you."
"Emandi, truly," Welkin raised their hands in surrender, "I haven't a clue what you're talking about."
The fur down Emandi's spine raised like a warning flag and the slits of their pupils constricted dangerously. Audrey braced herself. The ancient creature's demeanor had changed so quickly, so dramatically, that she wondered if this entire interaction had been some kind of trap. There was deep suspicion in Emandi's glare as they glowered at Welkin.
"You're the Council's primary delegate for this planet," Emandi said at last. "How could you possibly not know?"
The genuine shock that fell across Welkin's features left Audrey jittery with unease. She had no idea what Emandi was getting at, but if Welkin was alarmed, she knew it couldn't be good.
"What's happening?" she whispered, breaking the tension that crackled between the two mythical creatures. It was as if her question broke a spell. Emandi's outrage was replaced by palpable confusion.
"I thought that's why you came," Emandi said. "When I heard the trees gossiping about a Star in their midst, I assumed you were here for me."
Welkin froze. "Why would I be here for you?"
"Oh dear," Emandi considered them both for a moment. "If you're being true, it would seem we have a great deal to discuss."
"Is there somewhere we can speak safely?"
"Up the mountain — it's the only safe place I can offer." Emandi gestured to the shadow of a towering peak that could just be seen peeking over the canopy. After a moment of silent contemplation, Welkin relented with a sigh.
"Very well. Though, in the name of expediency, I'll have to ask you to escort Audrey."
Emandi nodded. "It would be my pleasure."
Audrey threw her hands up in the air. "Can one of you please tell me what's going on?"
"I'm terribly sorry, Audrey." Welkin laid their hands on her shoulders. "I know you're keen to begin your training, but I'm afraid we must make a slight detour in our journey. Can you forgive me?"
A thrill ran through Audrey as she glanced back up at the mountain's silhouette. Yes, she was anxious to learn how to control her abilities, but her curiosity burned too hot to ignore.
"I'm sure I can find it in my cold, dead heart to forgive you," she replied. "As long as you don't expect me to walk up that mountain myself."
"No one has time for that, my dear," Emandi said. They heaved themself forward onto all fours and stooped even lower at Audrey's feet. "Climb aboard, tiny human. It's a beautiful night for a run."