Even in the deepest concentration, she could not recall her life before she came to work as a shepherd for the farmer. She’d come into his possession fully grown with no recollection of her life as a pup. The tedious life as a working farm dog was all that she knew or could remember.

In the early days, the farmer had been appreciative of her labors. As a young and healthy dog, she’d been of great use in keeping his farm in order. She’d herded the sheep and kept the chickens safe at night without fail. In the autumn months, she would help him harvest rice and wheat from the fields by carrying bales on her back. He rewarded her for these kindnesses many times.

However, his appreciation had stopped when she began to grow old. When she was unable to keep up with the sheep and to guard the chickens he refused to let her take shelter in the farmhouse, even during harsh weather. When she could no longer carry large bales of grain on her back, he stopped feeding her.

The creature was aware that her kind did not live long lives, and felt betrayed that she was not repaid for giving the better years of hers to the farmer. With much reluctance and an empty stomach, she set out from the farmstead—the only quarter of the world she’d ever known—to find some way to fend for herself.

On the road through the forest, she grew tired and stopped to rest. She could feel hot tears staining the fur around her eyes, though she fought to hold them back. "Why are you so sad, my friend?" a soft voice called from the trees above.

The dog looked up in surprise to see a small sparrow of brown and white complexion perched on a tree branch above. "Pardon me, Miss Sparrow. I d-didn’t mean to disturb y-you," the dog stammered as she struggled to get to her feet. "I’ll be on my way."

"Nonsense," the sparrow retorted. "You’re so hungry you can barely stand, aren’t you?"

The dog sobbed. "I deserve to be hungry. I’m too old to do anything for my master. He hasn’t fed me in weeks."

"So, he punishes you with starvation for the simple crime of delving into old age?" the bird inquired. "As if one can control such a thing."

With a light flap of her wings, the sparrow fluttered down to the road in front of the dog’s face. "I’ll take care of you, dear creature," she reassured. "Just follow me to the next town."

The tiny sparrow took off into the air as the ailing canine struggled to her feet. "Do you have a name, dog child?" she requested.

The dog followed after her as she flew along the road. "My name is Spitz," the canine answered.

#

As they found their way into the nearby town, the sparrow led Spitz to a butcher shop where several links of sausages hung outside after being smoked and preserved for the shop’s patrons. The tiny bird pecked at the string holding them in place, allowing them to fall to the ground below. She beseeched the dog to consume them and Spitz did, graciously.

Although Spitz was grateful for what the sparrow had retrieved for her, the bird did not stop at the sausages. She proceeded to knock a large lamb chop down from the same butcher shop’s hanging display. After that, she knocked bread from a nearby stand onto the ground for the dog as well. By the time the sparrow had finished, Spitz found herself more than full.

They departed town under the sparrow’s advice before any humans took notice of the bird’s misdeeds. When night fell, the bird nested herself in Spitz’s fur as they slept under the stars in a vast field of wild grass and flowers.

When they awoke, the sparrow guided her back to town to retrieve more food. At several points, the dog began to question the bird’s motives. As they departed the butcher shop’s front display, she came forward with a question that had been burning in the back of her mind. "I was a stranger to you when we first met. Why are you being so kind to me?" Spitz queried.

The bird fluttered up onto the nearby food stand. "I’m not one to let a kind soul suffer," she replied. "Yet …. do you recall your life before the time you spent on the farm?"

Spitz shook her head. "Not a minute. All I can remember is the farm. I can’t even recall my life as a pup."

The sparrow’s face fell. "I suppose that’s for the best. The fact of the matter is that you are my friend and I wish to see you happy. Nothing more."

The bird fluttered off toward the next food stand and Spitz followed behind her.

#

They continued spending their days together. Days grew into weeks, and weeks grew into months. Spitz was content with her life, and so was the sparrow. In the early days of spring, the dog had seen fit to take a nap in the sunny field they’d shared since they met. As Spitz slumbered, the sparrow could hear a ruckus in the distance. Not wishing to wake her dear friend, she flew off toward the source of the noise.

On the other end of the field, the bird found a cart. It was drawn by three horses and driven by a stocky man with a matted beard and his homely, near-toothless wife. Both of them looked as if they’d never taken a bath in their lives, nor particularly cared that they hadn’t. They were preoccupied with arguing amongst themselves. "We’ll never make it back home with all this wine before dark if we keep taking the main road, you imbecile!" the wife screeched.

"And if we cut through the field, we’re gonna damage the cart!" the man screeched back. "Are you gonna fix it when the wheels finally give way?"

"I guess I should. I have to fix everything, don’t I? The farm, the business! My mother was right about marrying you!" the man’s wife shrieked. "Now stop being the poor excuse for a man you are and get us home!"

"We ain’t cutting through the field!"

The sparrow instantly knew what danger would befall her friend if the couple took their cart through the field. The sleeping Spitz was directly in their path and would be run over by them. She perched in a tree above them. "Do not drive through the field!" the bird commanded.

The couple looked around in astonishment. "Who said that?" the man cried out.

"Do not drive through the field," the sparrow repeated. "There are living things that call this field home and you will harm them terribly if you drive through it. Stay on the road."

"Enough of this nonsense!" the wife screamed as she snatched the reins from her husband.

The cart took off at an incredible speed through the field, the horses trampling the tall grass flat as they ran. "No, please stop!" the sparrow called as she flew after them.

The cart came to a stop as it hurled over what appeared to be a bump in the field. "What was that?" the man questioned.

"Probably some stupid rodent that was in our way," the wife said with no recourse.

Her heart pounding, the sparrow landed beside Spitz and attempted to rouse her. The dog had been crushed in her sleep by the horse’s feet and the wheels of the cart. She lived no more.

The tiny bird could feel nothing but grief and despair welling up in her chest. She turned her head to the cart driver and his wife, her tiny eyes searing with fury at their actions. "You monsters," she struggled forth. "You monsters!"

The sparrow became the pure essence of rage as she flew at the two humans. Her fury was unleashed as she began pecking their faces mercilessly.

"Stupid bird! Go away!" the wife snarled at her, attempting to bat the sparrow away.

The woman whipped the reins, causing the horses to race out of the field. As they attempted the flee, the bird pursued them regardless of their speed.

The tiny sparrow landed on the back of their cart and busied herself pecking away at the keystones of both of their casks of wine. With little effort, the keystones gave way and the casks quickly emptied their contents across the road the cart was now speeding down. The man looked back in horror to see what the bird had done. "What an unlucky wretch I am!" he lamented.

At his words, the sparrow erupted from behind the casks. "Not wretch enough yet," she thundered as she dove for his face.

The furious bird continued pecking the man’s face ceaselessly until his wife swatted her away. The cart raced back onto the main road and the couple found themselves not far from their farmstead as they continued fleeing from the sparrow’s wrath.

As their horses scurried down the front yard of the farmhouse, they felt a sense of relief. In a panic, without even attempting to unpack the cart, the two fled inside the house. It appeared that the bird had not followed them inside. The home’s interior was dark, as the afternoon sun was obscured by a thick sheet of clouds in the sky above. "Dear, do you know where we left the oil lamp?" the wife asked her husband as she stumbled around in the dark.

"I left it by the hearth."

As the wife made her way to the hearth she found herself momentarily blinded by a bright influx of lamplight. Above the hearth and far beyond her reach sat the sparrow with the old oil lamp alit next to it. The bird glared down at the woman. "Souls who know nothing but cruelty are ones that cannot be saved. They cannot be forgiven, but they will be forgotten," the sparrow spoke in a deep and frightening tone.

The bird kicked the lamp onto the floor, where it shattered in a splash of fiery oil. Flames quickly spread across the wooden farmhouse, the couple screaming in terror as the fire trapped them in the center of their home. "You will be forgotten," the sparrow reassured them.

The tiny bird flew up the house’s unlit hearth and up its chimney. As she ascended from the burning home, she flew to the top of a tree on a nearby hillside. She watched as the flames consumed the farm, her grief still gripping tight around her heart. The screams of the man and his wife could be heard from the distance, but she paid no mind to them.

Vengeance was hers, yet her heart was still broken and her soul felt empty. She took off from the treetop and flew away into the forest. The sun set as she traveled back to the field that she and her friend had shared. By the time she had returned the moon hung high in the sky among the stars. Spitz’s form lay in the moonlit field, appearing as if she were fast asleep. She wasn’t sleeping, though. The sparrow knew better.

The bird landed beside her, nudging the dog with her head. "Oh, my dear friend. How I wished that I’d never see this day," the sparrow choked.

The moonlight refracted, taking shape behind her. The tiny bird turned to notice the apparition materializing. As the light condensed and intensified, the shape of a being within it became more apparent. A pair of kind eyes took form first, followed by porcelain skin, and ebony black hair.

The being appeared to be a portly young woman, almost doll-like in appearance with rose-red cheeks and adorned in a pink and white furisode, a long silk scarf draped over her shoulders. "Uzhu?" the sparrow begged.

The Spirit shook her head. "You’ve let yourself be overcome by grief, Amah," she warned. "Even in such a powerless form, look what it did to you."

"She didn’t deserve this!" the bird wept. "Even if she was mortal!"

The Spirit took the small bird into her hands. "You know as well as I do that any creature that takes the form among the living must one day die. Such is the cycle of the material and the spirit world," she implored. "While I did not object to the order barring her to reenter the Sea of Hearts upon her death, myself and many others of the Order found Athena’s punishment too cruel. I have come to retrieve you."

"And what of Spitz?" Amah beseeched.

"Dear Amah … Her spirit must be sealed someplace where it cannot re-enter the flow of Life and Death," Uzhu explained mournfully. "She has known immortality and cannot be allowed to disrupt the balance of both. Her fate was sealed the moment you gave the vial to her."

The sparrow Amah sobbed loudly. "I just wanted her to be beside me! As herself!" she defended. "I never meant to upset the balance of both worlds!"

"Your heart was in the right place, dear. However, sometimes our hearts can lead us to do rash things," the Spirit reassured her. "There is nothing we can do from here but move forward. Now, come. The Order is waiting for you."

In a flash of white light, the Sparrow Amah and Uzhu disappeared from the field. Spitz’s lifeless body still lay under the moonlight, appearing that she were simply dreaming.

Between a set of trees on the edge of the field a tall and slender figure had stood by watching the entire display. The sclera of his eyes shone even blacker than obsidian glass, while his irises glowed a deep red like a flickering flame. A toothy grin formed across his face, his ruby-colored lips arching downward as he did.

Good. Everything’s going according to plan, he muttered to himself.

Next Chapter: (Book 2) Chapter 01 - New Beginnings