1 What is this world ?

This morning, like every morning, I woke up around nine o'clock. I had been drinking the night before and I was still hungover. It was a habit that I had taken for some time to relieve my loneliness and sadness. I had been single for a few days now. My girlfriend had suddenly dumped me and I was left with my motorcycle and alcohol as my only company. It wasn't something I was especially proud of, but I had no other hobbies apart from my Motorcycle and drinking was the perfect companion in these bad times.

"What have I done with my smokes again?" I thought while searching through my clothes.

Unfortunately, after many fruitless searches, I finally had to accept it: my pack was definitely lost. I wouldn't find it no matter what I did.

"Shit..."

I had only one solution left: go into town to get some.

I lived in a small house isolated from civilization and located in the middle of the woods. It was a three-room house with a garage attached to it and an outbuilding where I could store my things, do mechanics, or DIY. The house, which I rented to rich owners, was located at the end of a tarred path. Fortunately, they maintained the road!

These people owned a huge forest estate in which my house was located. They loved the large wooded areas and had hired me as a handyman. My job consisted of checking the integrity of the fences surrounding the estate, helping the logger in his task, or the gardener who took care of the huge gardens around the main property. In return, I was housed and cleaned for a small fee.

In all honesty, I wasn't a bad guy. Because I was a biker, I was often associated with the bad kind, but we bikers were no meaner than the others. Sometimes I would get into fights, it was true. Sometimes I was gruff, that was also true. Maybe that's why I had a bad reputation, deep down. But over and above these few trivial facts, the idea that I was living on the bangs of society contributed a lot to it. In fact, some people didn't know me because I simply had tattoos.

But luckily for me, these rich people hired me because they had a reassuring feeling when they saw me. The kind of feeling that makes you think: "Thanks to his appearance, we will feel more secure for our house", which was not totally wrong. People were more reticent when they saw me and some even thought twice about entering the field.

In any case, I was happy to be able to live away from the hustle and bustle of the city. I loved nature and especially quiet. Of course, my motorcycle may have been noisy, but it was the only pleasure I had in this world. I bought it a few months ago in a dealership not far from my home.

If there was one thing I wouldn't give up, it was that, even for all the gold in the world.

Once after stretching and washing, I had a pancake with a little maple syrup in it. It was one of the few dishes I could cook. My ex had taught me how to make it one day after desperately asking her to teach me.

I wasn't very talented in the kitchen, but I managed to make it.

I still remember the day I tasted the first of my pancakes, it was a great moment. I almost had tears running down my face because the emotion was so strong. I had a lot of difficulties, but I had persevered.

And then, seeing the success pointing at the end of its nose, I had then wanted to try to cook something else... But in vain. Of course, there was the pasta that I managed to cook, but it was not what you could call "cooking".

Once my breakfast was over, I picked up my lighter lying on the table, then I grabbed my helmet and took my keyring from the jar at the entrance of the house. Inside, it was still dark, but the sun's rays could penetrate the curtains.

There wasn't much furniture inside, I wasn't particularly materialistic but I had the minimum.

"My keys, my bank card... No, it should be good like this," I murmured while fumbling in my pockets.

I then put on my perfecto which was resting on the coat rack and turned around one last time to check the inside of the house. I didn't know why I had turned around at that moment, but something compelled me to do so. After that, I went outside.

The sky was blue that day, it was perfect weather to ride. The birds were singing too, it was spring after all. The weather might have been a little cool compared to the season, but it was not disturbing. I had experienced much worse when I had driven in the winter.

While humming, I approached the garage and opened the door with a sharp jerk, letting it appear before my eyes. My bike was an iconic model of the brand: the Road King 96 CI. With this model, I could ride effortlessly, with my hair blowing in the wind, with the characteristic sound of the engine reminiscent of a thoroughbred galloping.

It was resting quietly under its protective canvas, ready to devour the kilometers. The sun was letting her shapes appear and I still felt the same excitement every time I saw it. Without further ado, I removed the canvas and took a few seconds to admire her once again. Indeed, the only thing that made me feel so envious of this world was my motorcycle.

All black, with chrome rims, a comfortable seat, and a torque engine, it was the best motorcycle on earth. At least, that was my opinion.

Mechanically and as a ritual, I put on my helmet and rode the motorcycle as if it were a natural gesture. With a movement of the hips, I put it back in an upright position and then removed the stand with a backward kick. Once I inserted the keys, I turned on the starter and the engine magically woke up, roaring around the room.

After engaging first gear, I pulled the throttle and the bike moved forward slowly until it reached the asphalt road. After locking everything, I took the road towards the city.

The road in question, I knew it perfectly well. Having ridden it hundreds of times, it no longer held any secrets from me.

This morning, everything was quiet. I was on my way to the city to buy the same cigarettes that I had been smoking for fifteen years now.

It was a Saturday, and on that day, people would take the opportunity to do some shopping or clear their heads in the bars.

For me, it was a workday like any other. But I had a lot of freedom. I didn't have to be there every day as long as I was doing my job. So I often went to the city during the week, either to see friends or to do my shopping.

My destination was a specific tobacconist's shop. I could have gone to any other place in the city, but this one was special in that I always went there to buy my cigarettes.

Unfortunately, I had to go through the city and at that time of day, the streets were crowded with people. However, I was able to drive between the lines of vehicles when the opportunity arose. This was also one of the advantages of riding a motorcycle, you could get around almost anywhere without too much difficulty.

When I arrived at a traffic light that had just turned red, I stopped in front of a car whose driver took advantage of the stop to put on her makeup. When she saw me appear, her face immediately froze. She must have been wondering what I wanted from her after I had just discreetly ogled her. I nodded to her and looked ahead. The young woman seemed lost, but I didn't pay any attention to it. It was something that happened quite often. What was the harm in saying hello to strangers?

When the light turned green, I drove off again and entered the crossroads. At that moment a horn sounded. A hit-and-run driver had also just entered the road at the same time and was heading at full speed towards me.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment.

"Is this the end of the journey?" I thought as I saw the car rapidly approaching.

But contrary to what I had feared, the scythe of death did not strike this time.

The hit-and-run driver immediately turned and narrowly avoided me before getting into another lane shortly afterward and disappearing into the traffic. No sooner had I understood what had happened than the people behind me were already urging me to move forward with aggressive honking. There was no consideration on their part for my fate. I was hardly better off if I didn't disappear from their sight. Only the young woman I had just greeted remained motionless, no doubt with a sudden empathy for me. Or perhaps just scared at the thought that I would turn around and pour all my frustration onto her?

"Damn... Damn motorists!" I cried into my beard.

I grumbled and drove on, not blood a few curses here and there.

A little later, I arrived at my destination.

A few people were waiting patiently in their car parked next door. My arrival turned heads and looked up at me. I was expecting it, but I didn't give a damn. I slowed down and parked next to an old Pontiac. It was a vehicle that I particularly liked, even though I wasn't a big car fan, for the melodious noise emanating from its big, atmospheric V8.

After taking off my helmet, I walked back into the store. Inside were five people. It was a small shop, but it worked well because its prices were slightly lower than the others. As a result, everyone was coming to this one.

The only negative point was...

On the shelves, fashion magazines rubbed shoulders with erotic magazines without distinction. Besides, there were sex toys openly presented on the shelves. Luckily, minors were not allowed to buy tobacco, so this prevented them from having access to the store.

Once the person in front of me had finished, it was my turn. The merchant was a rather tall man. He looked thin but he had a big nose in the middle of his face and big eyebrows, which made him look comical.

"Lost your cigarettes again?" he asked teasingly.

"You always greet your customers by pointing where it hurts," I replied with a smothered laugh.

I had been coming to his store every week for about fifteen years now and buying the same pack of cigarettes. He was getting to know me and my habits. Losing the pack of cigarettes was a common occurrence with me.

"I don't know how you manage to lose them every time. You must have been born under a bad star," he exclaimed, laughing at the top of his lungs. "Anyway, it's not like it bothers me after all..."

"You could say that I am your most faithful customer. As a souvenir of our great partnership, could you give me a discount?"

The merchant laughs and grabs a packet of white and red cigarettes without deigning to answer me. Most people would certainly have felt humiliated, but not me.

"The same as usual I suppose?"

"You know me better than my parents... Yes, that will be all."

"Okay, that makes twelve."

"Twelve?" I exclaimed indignantly. "You're not trying to rip me off by any chance, are you? Last week the price was ten and thirty cents!"

The merchant sighed deeply.

"I don't set the prices, okay?" he said shaking his head. "For some time now the government has been raising taxes and I don't set the prices. Besides, I have to make a living, right?"

After I clicked my tongue out of boredom, I paid the salesman who smiled with delight. I didn't like the look on his face, but I didn't have much choice since I couldn't find better elsewhere.

"In the end, you still bought it for me!"

"If it wasn't for our long-term relationship, I would have gone somewhere else!" I retorted in a vindictive tone.

"Come on! If you keep this up, you're going to make me cry... Is that all you needed?"

"Yeah, bye!"

When I got my change, I waved out of the store.

Without further ado, I opened the package and lit a cigarette.

The smoke enveloped my lungs and a feeling of relief filled my mind. It was not something I could do without. Also, with recent events, I had become quite irritable and needed a way to release the tension inside me.

It was not advisable though, I knew I was going to die one day if I continued to smoke so much but I didn't intend to stop for the moment.

Once my cigarette was over, I left immediately.

The engine roared in the street and took me away quickly.

As I was about to return home, I decided to change course to go for a walk. I still had the time and I wanted to take advantage of the morning coolness to clear my head before going back to work.

I arrived at this famous crossroads that led me to my home but instead of turning left as I would have done usually, I decided to go straight ahead. It was a small detour that took me inland and had some nice curves. For me, it was a moment of pure delight.

I was now alone on the road, no one behind or in front of me. I wanted to feel the wind so I decided to accelerate. The gusts of wind whipped my face and my hair fluttered in all directions under the force of the wind. I felt like I was being propelled at full speed on the asphalt and an intoxicating feeling of freedom came over me little by little. It was so nice to feel wings growing, I never got tired of it.

I was confident because I knew the road like the back of my hand. As I approached the first turn, I decelerated and downshifted immediately to get a better start. I felt my wheels stick to the road like sticky paper stuck to a sheet of paper.

I had taken care to warm up my tires shortly before hitting the road and the bike's revisions had been done carefully: my confidence gauge was close to one hundred percent.

In addition, my excitement was rising accordingly to my speed, which made me almost euphoric on the handlebars.

That's when I got to the second turn. It was an ordinary curve but it was more dangerous than the others and for a simple reason: on one side was the road, on the other was the void. This road meandered through the mountain and some of its portions were located on the cliffside. However, I had not seen any imminent danger.

Another important point was to always look far ahead when driving. It was a basic principle that every biker knew and I was no exception. Everything had to be normal...

As I approached the turn, I started to decelerate. I could then see the speedometer going down little by little. I was approaching the right speed, everything was as usual.

Sixth gear, fifth gear, fourth gear...

However, something strange happened at that time.

As I was about to downshift again, my clutch locked up, leaving my engine in neutral.

"What?!" I cried in panic. "I can't get the clutch to disengage!!!"

My hand was frantically pressing the clutch control and my foot was pressing the gear pedal, but nothing I was doing was improving the situation. I decided to do the only thing I could do at the time: break with all my might. I had nothing else to do.

However, and maybe because the sun was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a ray of light managed to sneak up on me and dazzle me immediately. Instinctively, I closed my eyes and shielded them with my hand. Alas, this moment, which lasted perhaps a second, was fatal.

A great shock was felt afterward and I found myself thrown over the safety railing. I felt my body rising in the air like a balloon as I saw my motorcycle following me in my momentum.

"Am I going to die?" I suddenly thought.

Images came to my mind. The moment I was born, the moment I met my mother and father for the first time, the moment I learned to ride a bike with my father, the moment my mother punished me for eating the chocolate bars in the closet, the moment I made my first friends at school, the moment I discovered love, my first kiss, my first drink, my first motorcycle.

All these memories that I cherished were scrolling past me like a movie. Were these what we called the last moments of life? Did that mean I was going to die?

And fatally, after the jump came the fall.

I felt my body heading straight towards the ground. However, as I was at a certain altitude, I had a great view of the valley that bordered it. It was... Magnificent. Ironically, it was the last time I would see it as well.

I watched the ground approaching at full speed. Yet, for some reason, my mind was calm. Perhaps I was unconsciously denying what was happening to me? Or maybe it was the fact that I hadn't yet realized what was waiting for me?

It seemed so unreal. Even this morning everything was fine. What could have happened to bring me to this point? As if to force me to wake up from a bad dream, I decided to close my eyes.

"All this is not real... All this is just a bad dream..."

The vibrations were getting stronger and stronger, the feeling of falling was getting stronger and stronger. It was like being on a thrill ride, except that it was deadly.

A few seconds later, a big shock went through my body, and then it was pitch black.

...

The sound of leaves rustling with the wind resounded in my ears. I could also make out the soft song of the birds around me, it was quite pleasant. However, I felt my head was heavy as if I had been drinking the night before and woke up the next day with a hangover.

So all this had been just a dream?

Everything around me seemed calm. There was no screeching of tires, no roar of the engine, no shouting.

It was really quiet.

With great difficulty, I managed to open my eyes.

The sun was shining high in the sky and it took me a while to get used to it. At first, I could only see blurry and shapeless things, and then little by little, everything started to become clear, as if a thin veil had just been pulled in front of them.

"Where... am I?" I instinctively asked myself.

I was lying in the grass, surrounded by a lush forest. As I was about to straighten up, my eyes gazed up at the blue sky. Up there, something that should not exist was facing me with ineffable insolence.

"Two suns?!" I cried out in amazement.

One of them was smaller than the other and both of them stood proudly before me in the azure sky. But, how could that be? Was I deluded? I rubbed my eyes, thinking I had seen wrong, but despite my attempts, the two suns were still there.

Was I still on earth? I wasn't a scientist, but I never remembered seeing two suns before.

As I looked around, my attention turned to one thing in particular.

"What is it?" I whispered with my eyes wide open.

In front of me was my motorcycle, resting quietly on its kickstand.

"Am I still dreaming?"

I immediately pinched my cheek and the pain made me realize that this was real.

I stared with disbelief at my motorcycle, which was only a few meters away from me. It shone brightly as if it had just left the dealership, but there were no buildings nearby.

It was facing me and seemed to be waiting for me to wake up.

I quickly got up and approached her to check for anything.

"No, everything seems intact," I thought, reassured.

Suddenly another thought crossed my mind: If all this was real, did it mean that I was finally dead?

The images of my fall came vividly to my mind.

"No... It's not possible," I whispered incredulously. "I remember falling into the ravine and..."

Was I then in paradise? I wasn't particularly a believer, but I was thinking that maybe redemption had finally come for me. However, reality quickly caught up with me. If this was heaven, how could I feel pain? And why was my motorcycle by my side?

It was then that I realized that I was staring at an object that had been lying on the ground for several minutes now, and all this without realizing it.

"My helmet!" I said with amazement.

I approached and grabbed it mechanically. While examining it, I noticed that it was intact. Worse, it looked as new as on the first day, it was simply impossible. I remembered that it had been scratched on the sides from a fall a few months earlier. But the helmet in my hands was fine.

My mind was getting more and more confused as the pieces of the puzzle were coming together.

Suddenly, my gaze turned to my clothes. With all this, I had forgotten the most important thing: me. My clothes were new and shiny. My leather jacket shone in the sunlight and my shoes shone as if they had been polished. I groped my face but didn't notice any wounds or scratches.

"At least I seem to be unharmed and in one piece," I sighed pleasantly. "That said, I still don't understand why..."

While I was lost in my thoughts, a voice suddenly appeared.

"You're awake at last," said a woman in a metallic tone.

"Huh?"

As a reflex, I turned around and scanned the surroundings for the voice. But there was no one there.

"I must have been dreaming, I think..."

"I don't think it's a dream," the voice thoughtfully replied.

"Who's there?" I cried apprehensively. "Show yourself!"

"I'm right in front of you..." said the voice in exasperation.

"Very funny!" I laughed. "There's no one in front of me!"

"Who said I'm somebody?" she asked after a while.

My mind froze at that moment. I didn't understand what that voice was trying to tell me. It seemed surprisingly close, almost as if it was standing in front of me right now. But I couldn't see anyone. It was just me and my motorcycle at that moment. Suddenly the horn sounded and my eyes fell on it.

"You finally deign to look at me... I was beginning to think you were doing it on purpose," said the voice with a sulky look.

I stared at the motorcycle that was standing in front of me, blinking. I wasn't sure I understood what was going on. And then the horn sounded again, to bring me back to reality. That's when the connection was made in my head. I opened my eyes in amazement.

"You mean that..."

"Bingo! It's me, your bike!" exclaimed the excited voice.

I couldn't believe it.

"Is this... a joke?" I said gasping for air.

"No, I assure you it's real," the voice answered confidently. "Do you want proof? I can very clearly remind you of that wonderful day when we met. It was raining hard that day, you had just entered the dealership," the voice said. "That's when our eyes met..." she added with a hint of embarrassment. "When you told the salesman that you wanted me and not someone else, I was so happy... so were you. You were jumping from..."

As I listened to the story of this mysterious voice, a feeling of shame overwhelmed me little by little, and I could not help but interrupt it in its momentum.

"Sto, stop! Don't say more..." I said blushing. "I understood... All this is a dream!"

"No, it's not a dream, come on!" replied the slightly annoyed voice. "When are you going to accept reality?"

"But what reality? Where are the motorcycles talking from... It's... It's nonsense!"

I was torn between the joy of being in the presence of a unique event in the world and the fear of knowing that this same event was so incredible that no one would believe me if I explained it to him. What was the predominant feeling at that moment? I had no idea.

"How could this be possible? It's even better than Knight Rider..."

"I don't know. To be honest, I'm surprised at this myself," she added thoughtfully. "And then first of all, what is 'Knight Rider'?"

I was lacking the vocabulary to express my surprise. No matter how much I turned the problem around, nothing tangible came to mind. It was then that an idea crossed my mind.

"But... If you speak, does that mean you are alive?" I asked suspiciously.

"I think so, yes. At least, if you consider that "being alive" includes "speaking"."

"Then you must be the Holy Spirit of motorcycles! That's it," I cried, convinced of my foolishness.

There was a moment of hesitation between the two of us. The voice said nothing for a few moments and then sighed in exasperation.

"What?" I said.

"Do you really mean what you just said? The "Holy Spirit of Motorcycles" do you honestly believe it exists?"

The tone she was taking seemed slightly condescending, but I refrained from pointing that out to her.

"I don't know how else to explain it..." I thoughtfully replied.

I had a hard time believing that myself. Somewhere inside me, the idea that a Holy Spirit of the motorcycle could exist seemed so grotesque... But what else could it be?

"What is certain is that I am indeed your motorcycle..." replied the dejected voice. "As for the idea of why and how I got there, that remains a mystery."

One thing was clear: we were going nowhere. I would never get the answers I was hoping for at that moment. And asking myself the question over and over again wouldn't help me either. So I concluded that I would have to get used to it for the time being. Maybe I'll have more information later?

After meticulously putting everything together, I concluded.

"So if I summarize it well, you are the Holy Spirit of mo-I mean, you are my motorcycle and you can talk. But you don't know why or how it's done."

"That's it! Having said that, I could say the same thing about you. Why are you unharmed? When I saw us fall off the cliff, I thought I would never see you again," she said sadly.

"Hey... Don't be sad," I said, scratching my head with embarrassment. "The important thing is that we are alive!"

"That's right! I'm happy to know that you have nothing..."

His voice, although still metallic, had taken on a more joyful tone. That reassured me as well. I wouldn't have known what to do if she came to tears...

I looked around again. Now that the mystery was finally solved (or not), I could finally observe my environment quietly.

The place where we were standing was a small clearing surrounded by trees resembling those found in forests but some details seemed surprising to me. Some of them had strange shapes while others had colors that I had never seen in my life. Also, some of the trees were so tall that I even wondered how this was possible. I knew that the redwoods were surprisingly tall, but that word hardly qualified the ones I was seeing.

"Maybe we're in another country," I whispered.

But even that simple sentence didn't convince me in the least. I lacked general knowledge and had always only been interested in things that I was passionate about, but it was clear that even a person who lived in a secluded cave could not accept what he would see if he were in my place.

"What's the matter?" asked me in a curious voice.

"Ah... Uh... nothing... nothing."

His remark brought me back to reality. I decided to put aside these questions and decided to concentrate on the current situation.

"Well, what do we do now..."

I realized that I didn't know how to name this thing that was talking to me. While considering the entity in front of me, my motorcycle, in short, I rubbed my beard with a pensive look.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I was wondering, what should I call you now? The fact that I have a talking motorcycle with me seems supernatural in itself, but I'm not going to call you 'my motorcycle' every time."

"You're right, um," she said thoughtfully. "I'll leave it to you then," she exclaimed without hesitation.

"Are you sure? I'm not going to change it even if you ask me to."

"At one hundred percent! Please choose a nice name to me."

"All right... Um... What do you think of Nyfeirg?"

"It sounds like a very Scandinavian name..." she suggested.

"If you want, I can..."

"But I love her very much," she finally says.

"Perfect..."

"Wait!" I hastily interrupted him.

"What?"

"I don't think it's a good idea to call me by my first name..."

"Why?" she asked me with a surprised look.

"Because..."

If there was one thing I was ashamed of, it was my first name. In fact, few people really knew my first name because I was always called by a pseudonym.

Nyfeirg waited patiently for my answer. The fact that she didn't say anything further confused me.

"Anyway, call me John instead."

"John"? It's so common..."

"But it suits me very well. Besides, everybody knows me by that name."

"I'm not sure what's so wrong with your first name, but if you insist... John!"

"Thank you, Nyfeirg."

"So, what do we do?" she asked me curiously.

"Good question... I don't think..."

At that moment, a roar echoed through the forest. I immediately turned around and scanned the forest in confusion.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I... don't know," Nyfeirg whispered.

Neither she nor I knew what it was, and since we didn't seem to be on Earth, it was a good bet that it must have been a ferocious beast. I didn't want to end up in its stomach. Living a one-time death was traumatic enough as it was.

"I... Suggest we leave."

"Proposal... Strongly Agreed."

As I was backing up, my hands accidentally touched the bike's handlebars and a bright light emerged from its insides. I felt a strange sensation running through my body, from my head to the palm of my hand.

"What's going on," I cried out in amazement.

"I don't know myself," Nyfeirg replied. "It's as if..."

As the light was gradually fading, I could see that a transformation was taking place right now, before my astonished eyes. When the light had completely disappeared, I could not help but be speechless in front of the extraordinary view.

Nyfeirg had just mutated into a strange creature resembling my motorcycle, but strange protrusions had taken place at various points on the bodywork and the tank had disappeared, giving way to a strange system I had never heard of. On closer inspection, I could see that it was connected to the engine, which itself had taken on a monstrous appearance. Also, the headlight had turned into a menacing skull whose eyes released a sinister light.

If I had to describe what I saw, I would have only one word to say: demonic.

"Wow," I whispered frightfully. "Even the Ghost Rider would be jealous if he saw this..."

"I hope this is a compliment," Nyfeirg suggested suspiciously.

"Uh... Of course," I replied with some discomfort. "You seem more... sexy that way."

"I know you don't mean that," she replied with a hint of disappointment.

"How do you know?" I asked surprised.

"I can't say for sure, I'd say it's like I'm a part of you. What you feel, what you think, I know..."

"What the..."

"For example, right now, you're reluctant to drive me, aren't you?"

"I'm..."

"And now you're wondering how that's possible... Don't worry, I'm as confused as you are," she says confidently. "Although I wish you had meant what you said earlier..." she grumbles.

"What did you say? I didn't hear it."

"Nothing," she replied casually.

It was completely absurd, but somehow it gave me a strange feeling of pleasure. It's as if it was ...

"Magic!" Nyfeirg replied. "That's exactly right, I couldn't have said it better!"

"I... think it will take some time before I get used to it," I said with some apprehension.

"Don't worry, John. I will always be devoted to you!"

"Hey, it makes you think you're my wife," said I..."

"You can see it this way..."

"What?"

" So? Shall we go?"

I was about to reply to his answer when another idea crossed my mind. I decided to put my hand back on the handlebars, but to my astonishment, nothing happened. After a few seconds of reflection, I decided to put this crazy idea aside and rode Nyfeirg. Somewhere the idea of riding it had a strange connotation, but I immediately shook my head and denied the idea.

While searching for a start button, the bike started by itself without my intervention. The engine vibrated the body and the characteristic soft humming sound resounded again.

"Wait, can you start it by yourself?"

"And not that... Come on cowboy, let the wind carry us!"

"All right, let's do it."

I took my helmet and put it on my head and turned the throttle slightly, making the engine roar madly. I hadn't quite gotten used to it yet. Everything had changed after all. Luckily, some things were still the same. I disengaged the clutch and shifted into first gear with a little slap.

"By the way..."

"Yes?" Nyfeirg asked.

"Are you sure you're not the Holy Spirit of Motorcycles?"

A long silence followed before the engine roared again as if to summon me to move forward.

Shortly afterward Nyfeirg and I went into the thick forest.