Higher Plain Chapter 31: Saying Goodbye, A Sorrowful Handshake!

The sun was rising, but it didn't feel like morning. I stood barefoot on the porch, letting the breeze curl through my hair, watching the li

The sun was rising, but it didn't feel like morning.

I stood barefoot on the porch, letting the breeze curl through my hair, watching the light stretch across the horizon. It was a beautiful kind of quiet. Warm golden light painted the hills. The wind carried the scent of earth and flowers. Birds sang.

But none of it reached me.

Because underneath the peace... something was wrong.

The feeling was stronger now. Much stronger than it had been last night. That weight, that pressure in my chest—it hadn't gone away. It had grown. It was a familiar feeling calling out to me, my instincts themselves warning me continuously that I was in danger, which was a feeling that I wasn't use to.

I closed my eyes and breathed in slowly, trying to center myself.

That's when I heard the door creak open behind me.

"Krelzor," I said softly, already knowing it was him.

"Faylina?" His voice was thick with sleep. "What are you doing out here? It's barely dawn..."

I turned around to face him. His hair was sticking up in three different directions, his shirt hanging loosely off one shoulder, and he had that half-lidded look of a man who just stumbled out of bed without a clue what time it was.

He looked so... adorable.

I hated what I was about to say.

"I have to leave," I said.

That woke him up fast.

"What?!" His eyes shot wide open, and he took a step forward like he didn't quite believe what he heard.

I looked down at the dirt beneath my feet, my toes curled into it. "I wasn't sure at first," I said. "But now I know. This feeling—this heaviness—it's not coming from a Morvren. It's... it's a Xylarion."

Krelzor stared at me. "But... you're a Xylarion."

"Yes," I said, "which is exactly why I know it's true. The prescience, the pressure in the air, the way nature's been responding—it's all too powerful. The animals are acting strangely, the wind's blowing the wrong direction, even the soil under our feet feels unsettled. That kind of disruption only happens when something big is happening, something big enough to disturb the ecosystem."

I paused and looked into his eyes. The fear was there again.

And it broke me.

Because I knew where that fear came from.

It came from watching me coming to this land at all, my form dominating and destroying the land itself in my search to find the so called mythical human being, unaware that I was crushing a whole nation of them underneath my feet, it came from my fight with that Morvren. From seeing me grow so massive that I towered above clouds, my footfalls cracking the earth open. From witnessing me squash entire acres of even more land with my hands, just trying to protect people. Trying to protect him.

Even now, the land hadn't fully recovered from all that I had out it through. Deep impressions of my feet still marred the soil. Craters and blackened grass still stretched across the distance like scars.

And now, something just as bad was coming.

Something like me.

"I can't risk staying here," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Not when I might lead another threat straight to your home."

Krelzor took another step toward me. "So you're just going to leave?"

I hesitated.

"No." I shook my head slowly. "I'm going to find it. Whatever Xylarion is here—whoever it is—I need to understand why. Our kind aren't supposed to be in the lower world. If they've crossed over... something is wrong. Very wrong."

He looked like he wanted to argue. I could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands clenched at his sides.

But I also saw the hurt.

That quiet, small sadness.

"You helped rebuild my farm," he said after a moment, eyes cast down to the field. "You fought that monster. You saved me."

"And I'd do it again," I said quickly. "It's my duty after all."

He smiled, and began to giggle ever so slightly. "Come back safe, ok?"

I smiled back at him, "I will." I said with a simple nod.

I glanced out over the field again, and that's when I saw them. Dozens of birds—maybe hundreds—flying overhead. All of them going the same direction. All of them flying away from where the wind was coming. Fleeing. The sky itself seemed to bend under the weight of their urgency.

My fists clenched.

"I'm leaving right now," I said.

Krelzor didn't speak. He didn't move. He just watched me with wide, unreadable eyes.

I turned back to him and forced myself to smile.

"I'll come back," I said softly. "I promise."

***

I knew I couldn't stop her.

Even if I wanted to. Even if I shouted, begged, threw myself in front of her.

Faylina had made up her mind—and in truth, maybe it really was for the best. If another one of her kind was on the move, heading this way... we couldn't afford to wait around and hope they were friendly. And she... she was the only one strong enough to stop them.

Still, it didn't make it easier.

I stood there on the porch, hands at my sides, heart pounding like it was trying to crawl out of my ribs. I watched her turn back to me—Faylina—with that same smile she always gave me. Wide, radiant, stubbornly warm even in the face of something awful. Like this wasn't a goodbye. Like we'd see each other again in an hour.

She extended her hand.

I blinked. "Seriously? A handshake?"

She chuckled softly. "Don't look so surprised, K. Just say goodbye properly."

So I reached out and took her hand. It was warm, soft despite all the strength in her body. Somehow delicate, even now.

"Don't worry," she said, her grip firm. "I'll handle the situation. You just worry about the farm."

There was a little hum of energy in the air then—soft at first, like static—but growing brighter. Her clothes shimmered as her form began to glow, and before I could make sense of it, her whole outfit began to change. The simple clothes she'd worn while helping me in the field gave way to something far more ornate. Elegant armor, lined with deep blues and silver embroidery. A shimmering sash that fluttered despite the still morning air. Boots that gleamed. A crest on her chest that caught the light.

It was the same outfit she wore the first time she arrived—when she came from the upper world and accidentally crushed half my farm.

But now... it looked different. She looked different.

She looked like a princess.

No—like a goddess.

And then she turned away.

With one light step off the porch, her body began to rise. Slowly at first, like she was stretching tall after a nap. But then higher, broader. I backed up instinctively as her feet widened across the yard, her toes sinking into the soil that had only just started to recover.

Her head rose past the roof of the house. Her shadow stretched over me, wrapping the whole cottage in a blanket of cool darkness. I looked up and up, and still she grew—until the ground itself seemed to bow beneath her weight.

She looked down at me once more.

And for the first time... I saw the fear in her eyes.

Not for herself. For me. For us.

She was scared. And still she was going.

Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something more. But she didn't. She just turned—quiet, steady—and began to walk.

The ground boomed under each step. Not a stomp, not reckless. But powerful. Measured. Like the land had no choice but to move aside for her.

I watched her massive silhouette disappear past the tree line, her hips brushing aside the tallest of them like twigs. Birds took off in frightened flocks. The sky seemed to dim slightly—not from clouds, but from her size blotting out the rising sun.

The wind tugged at my shirt, kicked up loose dirt from the fields.

And then it was quiet.

I stood alone, mouth dry, heart aching.

My fingers tightened at my sides. I looked out across the broken fields. The ones we'd just started fixing together. The ones she helped shape with her massive finger, carving neat rows into the soil like it was butter.

She was gone again.

This time, I didn't know when—or if—she'd come back.

I swallowed hard.

"It's going to be okay," I whispered, to no one in particular. "Right?"

But I wasn't sure I believed it.