When Aru's clear, free song drifted through the mist to the Thunderbird's ears, something deep within her soul stirred violently. Fragments of scattered memories began to surface in her mind.
In those fragments, she saw a young boy within high walls, playing a harp and keeping company with a weak wisp of wind. She saw the wind take the form of that boy. She saw the black dragon dying amidst song.
The Thunderbird was puzzled. Why were these strange memory fragments appearing in her mind? She must have been mistaken. She paid them no mind, yet they had left a deep impression on her.
For the first time, she found herself drawn to a human's song—a voice that struck straight to the soul, that lingered in her heart. It was truly beautiful. Even she felt like raising her voice to the heavens and singing along.
Ordinarily, she would have already returned to Mount Kanna by now, standing on the highest cliff, closing her eyes and resting until her next hunt. But this time, she didn't go back. Instead, she circled above the island, listening to the boy's song, lingering.
After several passes, her massive, lightning-wreathed body tore a rift through the drifting mist, dispersing it and allowing bright sunlight to once again fall upon the plains. The boy Aru, still singing, could now see the endless fields of flowers blooming in full splendor.
But when he looked up, he saw the Thunderbird's immense form descending from the sky, tearing through the mist and landing before him.
Aru revered and worshipped the guardian deity. But he also held a deep fear of her, especially with the impending ritual. Now that the Thunderbird had landed before him, he was frozen in terror, forgetting to kneel, to sing, to speak.
What should he do? He had disturbed the guardian deity! Would she swallow him whole? In his mind, the guardian deity's fondness for children meant she devoured them.
Before him, the Thunderbird loomed like a small mountain, gazing at the tiny "ant" with curiosity.
Since building her nest on Mount Kanna, this was the first time she had observed one of these tiny creatures up close, and the first time she felt any interest in them. She hadn't expected their singing to be so beautiful.
The Thunderbird spoke. "Why did you stop?"
The moment she opened her mouth, her voice tore through the mist, echoing far and wide. Aru winced, the sound nearly splitting his head. He almost collapsed.
Seeing his distress, the Thunderbird understood at once. These fragile little creatures couldn't withstand her voice. So she lowered it as much as she could, trying to sound gentle and human.
"Little one, why do you sing here?"
Startled back to his senses, Aru's body still trembled. But he dared not ignore the Thunderbird's question. He forced himself to calm down and answered nervously, "Because… when I sing in the village, I'm afraid the others will laugh at me."
Aru was still a shy boy. The Thunderbird saw his trembling and said flatly, "Are you afraid of me?"
Aru quickly replied, "No, no, Guardian Deity, I respect you!"
The Thunderbird mimicked a human tone. "You don't need to fear me, nor respect me. Just think of me as your… friend. Just a friend."
She didn't fully understand the human meaning of the word. She only knew it was a term of goodwill. She simply wanted to show the boy her friendliness. But when Aru heard the word, he stared in disbelief, as if hearing the impossible.
Become friends? With the guardian deity? He had never dared to imagine being this close to her, let alone speaking with her so freely. And what amazed him most was that she was kind and gentle, not nearly as frightening as he had thought.
So he gathered his courage and began to speak with her. "Friend. I am friends with the guardian deity."
He was so happy. He wanted to sing aloud to celebrate this wonderful moment. And so he did, opening his mouth to sing a beautiful, clear song to the fields of flowers and the towering guardian deity before him.
The Thunderbird listened, enraptured. She gently lifted her wings and gave them a soft flap.
For her, it was nothing. But for Aru, the gentle sweep of those wings unleashed a violent wind that swept across the plains, lifting flowers into the sky and sending Aru tumbling through the air.
As he cried out in surprise, the Thunderbird took flight and soared beneath him, catching the boy on her soft back. She carried him high into the sky.
For the first time, Aru could see the entire world from above—Tsurumi Island wrapped in mist, the endless sea, and the scattered silhouettes of distant islands.
Riding on the Thunderbird's back, he was filled with joy and excitement. His laughter echoed through the sky. Resting on her wings, a new inspiration struck him. He sang at the top of his lungs, his voice carried by the wind to the Thunderbird's ears, and even she, usually so stern, felt a surge of happiness, letting out a sound like human laughter.
After flying for a long while, Aru grew tired, and the Thunderbird brought him back to the plains, gently lowering him to the ground.
After that wondrous journey through the sky, Aru's fear of the Thunderbird had faded. He believed her words. The two of them had become friends.
Though it felt like a dream, Aru had pinched his thigh and felt the pain. It was real. He had truly become friends with the guardian deity—friends forever.