Chương 21: Chapter 19 — The Baby Bird

Chelsea blinked, caught off guard by the sharpness of Adriane's tone.

"What?" Adriane didn't elaborate. She had already turned away, effectively ending the conversation. Bea, on the other hand, was still watching her, that same smug expression plastered across her face like she'd just witnessed something entertaining.

"If you've got extra energy during this run," Adriane added over her shoulder, "use it. Work on your wings." Chelsea hesitated, then leaned toward Dewey and motioned for him to lower himself. He obliged, bending down so she could whisper into his ear.

"Any idea why she reacted like that?" she asked quietly.

"About me carrying Bea?" Dewey's response came in that same low, gravelly whisper.

"You offered her a luxury." Chelsea pulled back slightly, frowning. So they weren't being dramatic earlier, she realized. She actually means that luxury thing. She slipped her cloak off, glancing around for somewhere to put it. There wasn't really a good option, no bags, no packs, nothing. Dewey held out a hand. She handed it over with a small nod of thanks, and a moment later, they were moving again. Chelsea had always been good at school.

She was halfway through Physics 2 back on Earth, and the year before that she had crushed a combined physics and chemistry course. She understood how things were supposed to work. Lift, pressure differentials, airflow. She knew the theory. As a wing cuts through the air, the pressure beneath it increases relative to the pressure above, creating lift. It all made perfect sense. For airplanes. For rigid wings. For systems that didn't flap, shift, or respond unpredictably to every tiny change in wind. Her wings were…

none of those things. They moved. They flexed. They felt things she didn't understand yet, and every time she tried to rely on logic alone, something went wrong. A sudden gust, an uneven adjustment, a slight overcorrection, something would throw her off, and she'd topple ungracefully back to the ground. Every time. She kept trying anyway. She stayed low, never more than a couple of yards off the ground, but even that was enough to get her into trouble.

One bad angle and she'd tilt, lose control, and hit the dirt before scrambling back to her feet to catch up with the group. After the fourth or fifth time, she was starting to get frustrated.

"Adriane," she called between breaths, "can I try something?" Adriane glanced back at her briefly.

"What?" Chelsea gestured toward Dewey.

"If I hold onto his axe strap while he runs… I can get a feel for gliding first. Without worrying about staying upright." Adriane considered it for a second, then gave a short nod.

"Do it." Chelsea immediately grabbed onto the strap slung across Dewey's back as he kept running, barely adjusting his pace to account for her added weight. The difference was immediate. Without needing to balance herself, she could focus entirely on her wings, on the tension in the muscles, the way the air caught beneath them, the subtle shifts that changed everything. She extended them fully, holding them steady, letting the airflow do the work instead of fighting it. Gliding was… easy. Shockingly easy.

All she had to do was maintain the shape, keep the muscles engaged, and let herself be carried. After about twenty minutes, she let go. This time, she ran with the group, then jumped, snapping her wings open mid-stride. The air caught her cleanly, and she lifted just enough to glide forward, her feet skimming above the ground. Ten feet. Fifteen. Twenty. When she dipped too low, she simply dropped the last few feet and kept running, barely breaking stride. Again. And again. Each time smoother than the last.

Finally, Basic Flight Level 2 Acquired. The gliding was definitely slower than the group's running pace, but Chelsea didn't mind. It gave her something to focus on, something to learn, and honestly, it was kind of fun. For the first time since arriving in this world, she felt like she was actively improving instead of just reacting. As they crested another hill, her attention shifted to the horizon. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

A forest stretched out before them, massive and dense, like an ocean of dark green. The canopy rolled endlessly, broken only by the occasional towering tree that rose above the rest like a jagged spike. Even from this distance, it looked thick, untamed… and a little intimidating. She wanted to get better before they reached it. At the very least, she wanted to be able to glide and flap without face-planting. As they started down the hill, she saw her opportunity.

She jumped and spread her wings, letting herself glide down the slope. At first, it felt perfect. Then something felt… off. The hill was steeper than her glide path. Within seconds, she was higher than she should have been. Fifteen feet. Twenty. Twenty-five. Thirty. Chelsea's stomach dropped as the ground pulled away beneath her. Panic started to creep in, tightening her chest. She forced herself to breathe, to think. It's fine. It's fine. You're still angled down. Just hold steady.

But despite that, she kept rising. The slope was dropping faster than she was. She glanced down. The others were still running below, completely unaware, their pace faster now with the downhill momentum. They were starting to pull ahead. That made it worse. If she drifted too far, she might lose them. Chelsea swallowed hard. Okay. Fix it. She adjusted her wings slightly, not much, just enough to angle herself downward a bit more. It worked. Immediately, she felt the difference.

Her body dipped, her trajectory correcting as she began closing the gap between herself and the ground. Relief flooded through her. Okay. That works. That's good. Then curiosity whispered again. If a little worked… maybe a little more would work better. She tilted her wings further. This time, she surged forward. The wind rushed past her face as she picked up speed, the ground rising to meet her as she cut through the air. Her family was coming back into range quickly now, the distance shrinking with every second.

For a brief, exhilarating moment, she felt incredible. Like she understood it. Like she could actually fly. Then she pushed it just a bit too far. The angle sharpened, and when she tried to correct it, she overcompensated. The airflow over her left wing broke completely, the tension vanishing in an instant. The webbing snapped loose, flapping wildly as her balance disappeared.

"Oh, no…" She started tumbling. The world spun as sky and ground traded places in rapid succession. Her stomach lurched, her wings flailing uselessly as she lost all sense of orientation. She did the only thing she could think of. She flapped. Hard. Her wings beat against the air in a desperate rhythm, not controlled, not graceful, just force. Somehow, it worked. The tumbling slowed, her body snapping into a forward-facing position just long enough for her to realize one very important thing. She was still falling.

Fast. Below, the group watched as a flailing figure dropped from the sky ahead of them, closing the distance with alarming speed. At around thirty feet, her wings caught just enough air to convert the fall into forward momentum. Unfortunately, that just meant she hit the ground faster. Chelsea slammed into the earth in a rough, sliding crash that knocked the breath out of her body and sent pain exploding through every limb. For a few seconds, she didn't move. She didn't breathe, didn't think.

Then the pain hit all at once, violent and overwhelming, ripping through her body like she'd been shattered from the inside out. It stole the air from her lungs, locked her muscles in place, and blurred the edges of her vision. When she finally managed a sound, it came out as a broken, breathless groan. She forced herself to move, inch by inch, testing each limb through the haze: arms, legs, fingers, toes. Each one sent sharp, protesting waves of agony back through her. Nothing felt right. Everything hurt.

But nothing stayed wrong, nothing refused to move entirely, and through the pain, she clung to that small, fragile relief.

"Next time you decide to fall like that," Bea's voice came from nearby, dripping with amusement, "let me know. I'd love to watch it again." Chelsea let out a weak, pained groan in response. Then, The Perfect Outfit – Effect 2: Tier 5 acquired. New Title Acquired: The Baby Bird. Chelsea lay there for a moment longer… then started laughing. It came out breathless and a little unhinged, bubbling up through the pain like she couldn't quite believe what had just happened.

She turned her head toward Bea, still grinning through the ache as Adriane approached from behind.

"Worth it," she wheezed. Adriane stopped beside her, looking down with an expression that hovered somewhere between irritation and reluctant approval.

"Going to try again, are we?" Chelsea didn't even hesitate. She raised a shaky thumbs up.

"Got tier five and a new title. So… yeah. Definitely trying that again."

"What is tier five?" Bea asked, crouching down as she prepared to heal her.

"It means she just got stronger," Adriane answered simply.

"Now heal her. We don't have time to waste." Bea placed her hands on Chelsea, and the pain began to melt away in waves... fading, dulling, disappearing until only memory remained.

"The Baby Bird," Chelsea muttered, repeating the name of her new title as she pulled up her interface. She squinted at it, already skeptical it would beat what she currently had. The Baby Bird Acquired by falling more than 15 meters while Flight is between level 1 and level 4. While assigned, grants +5 to Flight skill level.

"…Okay, that's actually kind of amazing," Chelsea said, pushing herself up to her feet as the last of the pain vanished.

"It gives me five levels in flight." Adriane's eyes sharpened immediately.

"How many levels?"

"Five." Adriane nodded once, already calculating with her fingers… slowly… painfully slowly.

"That means, in theory, you could push your flight to eleven without relying on equipment." She glanced at Bea.

"What level was The Eyes when you could inspect your own equipment?"

"Five," Bea answered without hesitation. Adriane clicked her tongue softly.

"Then we need to get you there as soon as possible." She turned back to Chelsea.

"Every opportunity you get, use it. What level is it now?" Chelsea pulled it up quickly.

"Three."

"Alright," Adriane said, shifting gears instantly.

"Stop focusing on flight. For the rest of this run, you're using The Eyes on everything—yourself, us, anything you can. We push that to five before we do anything else."

"Got it," Chelsea said, already mentally adjusting. They started moving again, falling back into formation as the forest loomed closer ahead. A few steps in, Bea slowed slightly, something clicking into place.

"Wait," she said, glancing between them.

"Adriane… she can't." Adriane looked over.

"Can't what?"

"Get it to five," Bea said.

"I'm pretty sure level three is the cap for level one." It's obvious, Bea doesn't know about Chelsea's cool title yet.