Scientist

Celaeno never doubted the existence of harpies.

If dragons, hippogriffs, and phoenixes existed alongside their record in history and mythologies, why couldn’t harpies?

Yet, despite the discoveries of several old nesting grounds thought to be cities designed by harpies and hundreds of unidentified feather specimens too large and too unique to be from currently known bird species, the general consensus of the greater scientific community was that harpies had long gone extinct centuries ago.

With only the hazy vestiges of a well-cherished childhood memory, Celaeno found himself alone in his own belief. He had no concrete evidence to prove the harpies’ current existence, and no one except those on the very fringes of the community, eager to discover something fantastical to leave their name in history, would lend him an ear.

So, Celaeno poured everything he had into his studies.

He learned about birds, wings, forests—anything that could even be remotely linked back to harpies. His office, which had been empty at the beginning of his tenureship at a local university, was soon filled with countless maps of forests and a collection of unidentified feathers and prints by him, his colleagues, and his students. While his efforts had helped to identify many new avian species such as the small steel-winged warbler and the bedazzled songbird, Celaeno never relented in his search. Until he could prove to the academic world that harpies still existed and once again meet the harpy that captivated him as a child, he would not stop working.

Zipping open his tent, Celaeno put on the combat boots sitting next to the entrance before stepping out onto the dense jungle floor. Around him, the foliage trembled with life. A two-headed lizard darted past his feet, purple tongue tasting the air as it chased after a fire-spewing beetle. A roar sounded in the far distance, too far to be discerned if it was made by a manticore or mimicore.

But, none of these sights could capture Celaeno’s attention. Today, he was going to observe a harpy.

After his most recent research trip, Celaeno pored over the newest map he bought from a local at a thrift shop. It was an old beat-up thing, worn but most importantly, written in an ancient language used during the period where mythical creatures still existed amongst humans in much greater quantities. Referencing it against more modern maps, Celaeno discovered an area not yet explored but thought to be inhabited only by common bird species.

Unwilling to give up on any lead, he immediately left on another trip.

Making sure his backpack was packed full of nutrient bars and water, Celaeno headed off in the direction of the unidentified call he heard yesterday. As he did so, he was rewarded with another call.

Celaeno felt a rush of excitement come over him, and with his heart pounding in his ears like the tick-tock of a grandfather clock, he pushed himself forward, deeper into the forest.

This is it. He’ll finally prove to everyone else that he wasn’t crazy. And maybe...maybe he’ll see you again.

The dense bushes of the jungle soon gave way to an open clearing surrounded by impossibly tall trees. Celaeno’s eyes immediately zeroed in on a set of large claw marks stamped into the dirt. Hastily dropping his backpack, he took out his notebook with trembling fingers, eager to sketch a print. Just as he finished a rough outline, palms sweaty from excitement, he caught the faint sound of wings cutting through the air.

Panicked—as he was not in a presentable state to meet the creature of his dreams nor was he ready to ask the questions he had been stewing in for the better half of a decade, Celaeno tossed everything aside and dove into the bushes.

Mind blank as he tried to catch his breath, he swivelled on his feet for a moment before righting himself. Crouching among the foliage as he craned his neck towards the sky, Celaeno remembered the set of binoculars strapped around his waist. Urgently freeing the binoculars from his belt, he brought them up to his eyes, aiming his focus skyward once more.

Where is—oh.

Celaeno’s breath caught as wings—much larger than a regular bird flew into focus. He leaned forward, body drawn towards the sight and, without realizing it, stumbled back into the clearing.

Oh man, oh man, oh man—Did he see him?!

Gazing directly into your eyes through the binoculars, Celaeno squeaked as your face rapidly got closer. Falling backwards and dropping his binoculars, his back hit the ground painfully just as you landed, head tilted curiously.