*Note* I also have this in my deviantArt account, so if you've seen it on dA by someone named Elendinel, that was me. I had a lot of people read the story there but didn't have anyone comment on it, and criticism is really what I need for this, so I decided to upload it here. Any little thing you have to say about it (it's too long/too short, too rushed/too drawn out, etc) would be immensely helpful.

Part 1

It was a quiet Sunday evening. The sun was only just starting to drift into its nightly slumber, streaking the sky with bursts of red and yellow. Silhouettes of birds gliding in the heavy summer air dotted the sky, their speech echoing softly in a quiet breeze that passed over the rooftops. The humidity was low, for once, and I chanced a stroll near the forest, hoping to look upon the trees before autumn came upon us and stripped them of their foliage. It was such a dense area, with brush or bark at nearly every step, and large knotted roots covering the entire forest floor. The leaves blocked out most of the little sunlight that was left; I was forced to travel with a lamp, lest I get utterly lost within the threatening trees. My boots snapped small twigs and forced pebbles further into the soft earth as I walked, and my hand explored the rough bark of each tree, the deep green leaves of each bush, even the surprising sharpness of the long blades of grass.

I reached a point where I was too tired to wander much further, and I turned to leave the forest; to my utter confusion, it looked as though the trees had picked themselves up and moved while my back was turned, for nothing looked as it had appeared before. It was such a ridiculous notion, however (trees moving, and without me hearing them!) that I instantly pushed the thought from my mind and continued on, searching desperately for something familiar to follow. The thought occurred to me that I ought to have unrolled a bit of twine or something as I ventured through the forest, so that I might have found my way back more easily. This thought echoed in my mind more and more as I felt myself growing more lost by the minute. How foolish I was, to travel in the forest without thinking to place markers on the trees I had passed!

I noticed the trees became more menacing; the air became heavier; the forest grew darker, with each step I took towards what I hoped would be an exit. Even under the glow of the lamp the bark of every tree looked dark, almost black, the leaves sharp and pointed, the roots seemed to slither in and out of the soil, as if to catch a traveler off guard and pull him into its eternal embrace. For a moment I wondered how many had been lost forever in this forest, how many had died here...

I pushed the thought from my mind. It was such a ridiculous thing to contemplate; the forest was neither that large, nor so complicated that the average level-headed traveler could not find a way out. Why did I think of death and ruin, when wandering for twenty minutes would probably lead me to some end of the forest?

I sliced my lamp through the deepening darkness. At one point I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and I swung my lamp to get a glimpse of whatever was nearby. Standing in what appeared to be a lake was one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever laid eyes on. His sleek black hair fell delicately down his slender back, where two large wings protruded, both covered with silken black feathers that shimmered under my lamplight. He turned suddenly to face me, and his red eyes seemed both dangerous and alluring at the same time; they held a profound beauty in them that was so alarming, and yet so engaging that it was all I could do not to take a step in his direction. His dark skin was damp with water, and his body glistened with the flickering of my lamp's flame. He was not particularly muscular; it did not surprise me that a creature so hauntingly beautiful had little need to be strong or aggressive.

He watched me carefully for an eternity, and I him; we seemed locked in each other's gaze, mesmerized by the existence of the other being in that particular spot. The creature moved first, stepping slowly out of the water, never failing to keep his eyes on me the entire time. I stood motionless, in fear that I might startle it; in fear that I might chase it away, or that it might have some dark magic that it would attack me with. One could never bee too careful with strange forest creatures, after all. With a sudden movement it beat its large wings in the air, and with a couple of swift, even movements it had taken flight in the crowded forest air. My first and only instinct was to follow it, and follow it I did: through the trees, over the brush, around the thick roots that protruded from the ground at the most inopportune of moments. It glanced back every so often, as if to see whether I was still in pursuit; then it would beat its wings a little harder and rose higher up into the air. Soon my energy and my lamplight became insufficient, and try as I might I could not see the creature anywhere. Disappointed, I looked around my surroundings, and noticed small lights coming from my right. They came from town, no doubt. Had the creature meant to lead me out? Of course not, I thought as I laughed to myself. It had been trying to escape, and little more.

I wondered whether or not I could catch another glimpse of the creature if I came back again the next day. I decided that I would return to the forest in the daylight to search for the creature, and in the meantime I slowly made my way back to town, where I immediately crawled into bed, too excited for supper, and even for a proper rest.

The next morning I rose with the sun, and I dressed as quickly as I could, packing a few sandwiches in a pack in case I got hungry along the way. I also went into town to buy a long roll of ribbon, which I cut into strips that I could tie to tree branches, so I would not get lost this time. I only hoped the forest animals would not take an interest in the dangling markers while I explored the forest.

I must have searched for hours, but I had found no trace of the creature from the night before. Not a feather, not a sound, not a movement. I searched the trees until I had begun to run low on ribbon, then I gave up my search and returned to town, taking down the ribbons I had put up along the way. Most of them, thankfully, had not even been touched.

It was mid-afternoon by that point, and the thought occurred to me that I might lure the creature out somehow. Surely there would be books in the library on the sorts of animals in the forest, and on what sorts of foods, or colors, or music, they liked. I might have even been able to get a better look at it, even touch a feather, if I found a way to lure it out. Thus the next trip I made was to the library, to look at the Encyclopedia of Non-Human Fauna. It was twenty volumes long, alphabetized, each volume being at least three hundred pages in length. As I stared blankly at the shelves, I realized it might take the rest of the day to figure out what that thing was. And today was the last day of the week-end; did I really want to spend the rest of my break reading this impossibly long encyclopedia?

I thought for a moment. Then I sighed, and pulled volume A from the shelf.

Well after night had descended upon the town, and after having read every volume and compared entries in various sections, I found that the creature was most likely called an agaik. There were three varieties of agaiks, classified by the colors of their wings: white, brown, and the one I had seen, black. Those with white feathers had long been extinct, as people in the past had hunted them relentlessly for their feathers, for their healing powers, and for their beauty. Those with brown feathers lived in desert areas, and were the hardiest of all varieties of agaik; few people had cared to hunt for them, for they were not only stronger than the other varieties, but they were not nearly as nice to look at. The last variety, those with black feathers, used to be hunted as arduously as those with white feathers, as they rivaled the other variety in beauty of their long, silken feathers. However people left the black variety alone after decades of hunting, for eventually those who sought them earning nothing more than bad luck and misery.

I was filled with a growing dread when I read the last part of the description of black-feathered agaiks. It was bad luck to look for one? Was it really? What would happen? Would I lose my job? My life? And if I were to look for him again, would I be in greater danger? Danger of what?

But then I thought this was ridiculous: a species being capable of granting bad luck to all who looked upon it? To think I almost believed it! It was a superstition, no doubt. I certainly was not going to be killed if I looked for the creature again, any more than I would have been if I crossed paths with the wrong cat.

There was no other information about the agaiks in the article, such as what they liked to eat, or where they lived, or anything else of that nature. But now that I had the name of the species, I could look through the rest of the library collection to find out more about it, and about how to catch another glimpse of the creature I saw in the forest.

Not that night, however; I had to wake up early for work the next day, and I needed to go home to get some sleep. I walked home and fell asleep as soon as my head touched my feather pillow.

The next day I ventured to my workplace. I was a lower subordinate of the Council, the governing body of the town that wrote the laws of the land and made sure they were enforced. It was mostly my duty to file paperwork and approve laws concerning finances and education. My job had become a rather depressing one of late, for our small town had been going through a monetary drought, and I was more or less blamed for our town's economic misfortune. This was an irrational opinion to have, as I had only had the position for a couple of weeks, and the recession had been going on for at least a decade; however nothing but progress would succeed in removing the notion from the townspeople's minds. I would have to work extra hard this year, lest a mob remove me from my offices and instate another candidate who would be blamed as arduously for causing their troubles.

That day, I was working with an associate, attempting to solve the problem of unemployment.

"Perhaps we could build a bridge," she suggested. I sighed. Jerim, the office dog, was curled at my feet. I was the only one who paid him any attention, and so he tended to follow me almost everywhere I went in the building, whether I was working on finances or education or filing.

"Over what? We have no rivers, or oceans, and we barely have a lake."

"We could make a river. Then build the bridge. That would create even more jobs, would it not?"

I wondered how an idiot like this managed to be hired for the government. "That is ridiculous. We cannot build a river."

She shrugged. "At least I am coming up with ideas."

I sighed again and stared at my blank parchment. We had very little money to spend on a project, and few things we needed to spend it on. We had a food store, we had a library and a bookstore, we had an armory, we had a theater (which had not once produced a good play, so it might as well have not existed at all), we had stables, we had inns, we had homes both occupied and vacant; we barely had room to build much else, even if there were some business we were in dire need of. What we needed were travelers. Fresh spenders. Someone to put some money into the society that had allowed itself to spend far too much for far too long.

"Nika!"

"Yes!" I said quickly. I had not noticed that my associate had been speaking to me, and she stared at me with mild annoyance. Jerim growled at the volume of our voices, and my associate stared at him and sighed.

"I said, what about hunting?"

"What about hunting?"

"We could have a hunting contest. The best catch could win a prize. People would come from all over for that."

I thought. "What would they hunt? We have no game around here."

"There are birds," she replied. "And there must be a wolf or two in the forest."

The forest.

"It is a possibility, but I would rather suggest something less violent, given the circumstances."

"Such as what?" she asked, her annoyance clearly rising. "You have not offered one suggestion since last month. What gives you the right to look down upon my ideas, when you can produce none of your own?"

"I am trying to think of an idea that will solve the root of the problem, while you are merely tossing out the first idea that comes to your mind."

"Better to suggest poor ideas than to have none at all," she muttered, though I heard it well enough. I ignored her comment. We did this nearly every time we were forced to work together, and I was getting used to it.

The hunting tournament was a good plan, I had to admit. The Spirits knew that people in this area loved to hunt game, loved to boast about what they had shot down, and would travel long distances to have the chance to do so. But the more that I thought about letting men with bows loose in the forest, the more I thought of that agaik, and the more I worried about the possibility that one of the hunters might drag him out of the forest as his game. It had looked like such a fascinating creature that I did not want it being shot before I at least had a chance to learn a bit more about it. I could not honestly expect to get the thing to follow me out of the forest and into safety, even if I could manage to find a place for it to hide.

I would have to choose one desire over the other: it was either the agaik or the town; my curiosity or my well-being.

Jerim stood up and lay down as a more comfortable, compact ball of fur.

"We can suggest the hunting tournament at the next meeting," I consented. My associate stared at me, then replied,

"Alright."

"We might also hire a director to put on a few good plays for the visitors."

"In our theater?"

I laughed. "We will have to find one that can actually write a decent script. If we manage it, though, people may start to think that our theater can produce works worth watching."

"Alright," she said with some skepticism. She wrote the ideas down with her dark brown quill pen. "What other ideas can we present to them?"

"We need something to draw visitors," I said. "Some sort of attraction."

"I will think of other ideas tonight," my associate said. "At least come up with one new idea by the meeting."

"Yes, yes," I said. I gathered my materials, said my goodbyes to her and Jerim, and left the office.

I went straight home to pack supplies for a journey into the forest, intending to find that agaik that very night and learn a little more about him before he was put in danger.

The sky was streaked with pink and orange light by the time I reached the old trees and undergrowth. I tied my blue ribbon to the branches of each tree, my eyes darting from side to side cautiously, curiously. Soon I ran out of ribbon, and I wondered whether I should turn back, or whether I should continue on. I decided to come back the next day, with more ribbon.

Just then I heard a rustle behind me, and I whirled round; my lamp caused the agaik's eyes to glisten frightfully in the growing darkness. I was sure that this was the same one as last time. He had the same eyes, the same-aura about him. He looked more frightened than he had been the night before, and he shifted as if to fly off, keeping his eyes on my as he moved. I did not even breathe. I thought if I kept perfectly still he might not be frightened of me, and he might come to trust me. No doubt he assumed I wished to catch him, or kill him...