A comforting pressure surrounds me as I wake, though I'm immediately aware I am no longer in my bed. Yesterday went… pretty well. After getting home from Brendan's house I just streamed most of the day, which helped take my mind off of things. Brendan even found a set of foam blocks that I can stick on my claws to prevent me from ripping up my bedsheets any more when I sleep, and they also give that pleasantly tingly feeling of stabbing something, which helped a lot with my anxiety about getting in bed.

Now that I'm very, very far away from my bed, I nonetheless find myself comfortable and warm, my many-legged body nestled pleasantly in the earth. Ah, that's right. My weird burrower instincts took over last night so I dug underneath the blanket given to me and put it on top of me. Geez, I'm like a trapdoor spider. Trapdoor hyperspider? Whatever. I flex all my legs in sequence to make sure I know which ones are which, and start taking in my surroundings.

I assume it's morning, because Mr. Mindfucker and his pals are all up and about, cleaning up the campsite. I guess I should put more effort into mentally thinking of him by his name, 'Sindri,' because it would be kind of awkward to send over my nickname for him instead, no matter how fitting. The three of them seem to be quite experienced working together, effortlessly completing their individual jobs without a word and without getting in each other's way. That said, they also don't seem to be particularly friendly with one another, as while the two non-humans (who are called dentron, if I recall correctly) occasionally chatter a bit with each other, they barely acknowledge Sindri at all and seem to treat him with mild suspicion.

Which, y'know, fair. Mind magic is suspicious as fuck. On the other hand, it sounds like people don't get to choose the kind of spells they're born with, so it'd be unfair of me to judge the Pneuma mage while being hesitant to do the same to the Chaos mage.

Regretfully, I wriggle my way out of my comfy little dirt coffin, shaking off the detritus still sticking to my body for a moment before I get the urge to just step into a nearby barren zone instead. It just… feels more right. Hesitantly, I do so, and all the dirt caked on my body simply falls right off, unable to pass the barrier between dimensions. Huh! I check myself over with my spatial sense and can't find so much as a single speck of dust on my carapace. I've probably never been this clean in my life. In fact, I get the distinct impression that I couldn't choose to enter the barren zones with crap stuck to me even if I wanted to.

On the one leg, this is awesome. I'm so clean I probably don't even have microbes on me! Being this clean is so wonderful and good, it's like dopamine central for my various neuroses. On the other leg, this is creepy. I hate having all these new foreign instincts pushing me to do things, even if they're convenient in regards to figuring out how my body works. Something has fucked with my head, mind mage or no, and that's violating. And on a third leg… not being able to bring anything into the barren zones is going to be more of a hassle than it will be a benefit, I think. I won't be able to carry anything! For that matter, I won't be able to wear clothing, though I guess I don't really feel immodest. I suppose there's not much to be embarrassed about on my creepy ten-legged bug body. I haven't even had to go to the bathroom yet, which is good because I'm not at all excited to learn how the heck I actually do that. I, uh, try not to stare too hard at my own intestines. More importantly, though: I won't be able to carry equipment, materials, supplies, food… no spider-backpack full of meat rations for Hannah! It's a tragedy.

…Although presumably once I eat food, it doesn't leave my body when I enter a barren zone. So maybe I can carry stuff inside my mouth?

I step back out of the barren zone into the middle of camp, where all three other people there jolt with surprise as I seem to appear out of nowhere to their senses. I grab a small rock and close my mouth around it, walking into the barren zone and spitting it back out without trouble. Okay, neat! I take it back out to the normal realm, spit it out again, and pick it up between my teeth so that it's not fully enclosed by my body. This time, crossing over into the barren zone causes it to simply drop from my grip as if it stopped existing. It seems like I can carry things into my little pocket dimensions only if those things are completely enclosed by my body. That's a pain, but it's better than nothing.

I suppose while I'm in my little pocket dimension here, I should try to get a better handle on how it actually works. Now that I understand what I'm looking at a bit better, things are easier to wrap my head around. There are pockets of space I can enter which balloon within the physical area around them like bubbles in a bathtub. When someone else walks into a spot where I perceive one of these spaces, they simply flow around it, causing the strange twisting effect that kind of looks like gravitational lensing. I, meanwhile, step into the bubbles as if they're normal space and walk straight through them, giving me a 'shortcut' where other people have to 'go around' the bubble. The bubbles are all different sizes and shapes, scattered around the environment, and by changing the 'angle' I'm looking at things through my spatial sense, some bubbles will appear, disappear, grow, shrink, move, and so on. There are a set number and position of the space bubbles, but it's difficult for me to perceive them all at once. It might be possible for me to perceive them all at once, but that'd take a degree of familiarity with fourth-dimensional thinking that my pathetic human mind simply does not have.

…Meh. I can figure it out. I'm not going to give up on perfecting my cool new magic powers just because they require naturalizing myself to the w-axis.

I scuttle out of the barren zone again, startling my new companions for a second time. Teboho (the male non-human) babbles something at me in his weird language, which I don't really understand. I'm not sure how to convey that to him, though, so I just tap each of my legs on the ground once in sequence, lifting them in a little wave pattern around my body. Hopefully that's enough to acknowledge I'm paying attention, at least.

Sindri kneels down and holds out a hand, which I'm tempted to hop onto so I can be carried but I just touch it with a single leg instead. Let's not go crazy just yet.

Good morning, he greets me. Did you sleep well?

I feel much better than I did yesterday, I admit truthfully. Thanks.

Of course! Now, would you like to speak with the others today?

That sounds like a good idea, if we're going to be traveling toge—ow!

A sharp pain fires in my side as a pebble bounces off my carapace. What the fajita? Four-boobs threw a rock at me! I tense immediately, rubbing two legs together to produce that furious, warbling hiss to communicate my displeasure. Kagiso (which is her name, Hannah, get your mind out of the gutter) just scowls at me, the long ears on the side of her head twitching with displeasure.

Well for my first question I'd like to ask her what the heck that was for! I snap at Sindri.

I'm so sorry! he sends back. I have no idea what has gotten into her!

Both he and Teboho turn to chastise her, but she just tosses another pebble at me—this time with her three-fingered tail—which I dodge by scuttling to the side. This causes her to narrow her eyes at me further, but Teboho bodily steps between the two of us and starts pleading with her. She glances his way and starts yammering an explanation, and the two of them exchange words for a while.

A-ah, apologies again, Sindri says, reaching out to poke me once more. Kagiso can be… impulsive. It sounds like your body is interacting uncomfortably with her innate magic.

So she threw a rock at me!? I protest. That's not impulsive, that's just being a jerk.

Please don't think too poorly of her, Sindri requests. She's a bit… odd. I don't think she meant you any harm.

If you don't intend to harm someone you shouldn't throw any friggin' rocks at them!

I agree entirely, I assure you, Sindri says calmingly. How about we establish a method of communication so she can apologize to you directly?

Ugh. This morning is off to a terrible start already.

How does it work? I ask.

It's simple enough, Sindri says. I'll cast a spell on everyone that will join us together in a mental network. We'll all be able to send and receive information over the link. It's normally a faster and quieter method of coordinating in combat scenarios, but we can simply use it on a regular basis to maintain the ability to speak with you without needing me to be in physical contact all the time.

Huh. Okay. I'll admit, that sounds like a handy use for mind magic. And it's not like it's any riskier than communicating only with Sindri.

Let's do it, I answer.

The four of us gather together, the three of them each grabbing another's wrist so they're all in contact with each other at the same time. They kneel down and I, with instruction, put a leg on each of their hands, Kagiso flinching a bit as I do. Teboho seems a bit more accepting of my presence, but both of the dentron are obviously uncomfortable with me. Hopefully, that will change soon.

A pulse of… something shivers up my body and settles into my mind, that tickling presence of Sindri's magic making itself known. It remains even as the others unlink hands and stand back up.

Hello, everyone, I send to them. Can you all hear me?

The dentron mutter a few words at Sindri, but then Teboho answers me.

Yes, I hear you little one, he confirms.

The mental voice he sends is startlingly different from the one I 'hear' when Sindri speaks to me. It's interesting. When Sindri speaks it almost feels like I'm just thinking to myself. The different cadence, word choice, and habits are the only things that make it obvious it's him. Teboho doesn't sound like that at all, though; he just feels like a different person, the voice deep, sturdy, and reassuring.

Don't call me 'little one,' I grumble.

I will not, he confirms apologetically. Do you have a name?

It does, but it's unable to speak it, Sindri confirms on my behalf.

Uh, I'm also a 'she,' not an 'it,' thank you, I correct.

Is this not easily remedied? Teboho asks. She can write.

Not in any language I know, Sindri shrugs.

Then we will improvise, Teboho insists. We must know her name, Sindri. Give me a moment. Kagiso, apologize for throwing rocks.

Undamaged, Kagiso sends in protest. Her voice is dramatically different from both Sindri and Teboho, stilted and somewhat fuzzy, as if it's being projected on a CRT television with a bad connection.

Whether or not you hurt her is not important, Teboho explains patiently. Would you want someone to throw rocks at you unexpectedly? Would that not distress you?

…Oh, Kagiso says, wrinkling her nose. Apologies, creature.

Not as bad as 'little one,' but please don't call me 'creature' either, I grumble. Why were you throwing rocks at me, exactly?

In response to my question, Kagiso grabs another pebble from the ground with her tail, which really is a fascinating little structure. A long, thin extension of her spine that reminds me most of a monkey in its flexibility and shape, the tail ends by splitting into three smaller tails, each about the size and length of a finger. Like her feet, which have longer, more flexible toes and small claws, her body seems more designed for grasping and climbing than a human's. Considering how much of her body is humanoid but more—tail, extra arms, bigger ears, fur, etcetera—her species probably has to eat a lot more food than humans do every day. I wonder why they evolved that way.

…Assuming this fantasy world functions via Darwinian evolution, anyway. I mean, I don't know how else it could work, but it's a fantasy world with magic, they could very possibly have been spat out by a divine entity as-is. What do I know? I should probably ignore that and focus on the fact that she just grabbed another rock, and the last two times she did that were not pleasant for me.

Targets, she says over the link, pointing at four different rock formations in sequence. Then her mouth moves, and a word is spoken. But not by her.

I understand the word. It makes perfect, clear sense in my mind, despite how I've never heard it before and will be hearing it for the first time no matter how often I listen to the sound. The word is something other, something beyond that touches me, peels me open, and holds the core of my being with the distant affection of a woman holding someone else's baby. It laughs at me, joyful and fond and utterly without obligation.

"Ricochet," something says with Kagiso's lips, and she throws the stone.

I'm so shaken by the word that I almost don't notice her flick her tail, launching at the first of her targets. The pebble bounces off the rock and, in gleeful defiance of all physical laws, accelerates as it bounces off into the next rock, then the next, dramatically increasing in speed every time until it finally smashes clear through a poor animal's skull and splatters its brains onto the ground behind it.

Literally none of that would be possible on Earth.

I take it your naturalborn element is Motion, then? I ask, trying to restrain my stunned terror. Or was that something else?

Motion, Kagiso confirms. Know where shot will go. Always.

She kneels down next to me, her eyes boring into my carapace.

Unless. I bounce off you. You're… wrong.

I shudder slightly, scuttling backwards.

Well there's an obvious solution to that, don't you think? I grumble.

Her eyes go wide.

Tell, she insists fervently, scooting towards me more.

Just don't bounce things off of me!!!

She blinks slowly.

Not a solution, she pouts. What if need to throw you? Or use you for angle?

Wh—no! I yelp, hissing at her and stepping back further. Do NOT throw me!

"Kagiso!" Teboho barks out loud, followed with a bunch of words I don't understand.

Kagiso's ears droop and she walks away from me as Teboho gives me an apologetic smile.

Hey, come on over here, he says. I've got something I want to show you.

Is it that alphabet you've been writing? I ask.

He seems surprised, but it's not like I can't tell what he's doing. Even though he's a good ways away, I get a bird's eye view of what he's writing in the dirt with that weird pole of his. I do not, of course, have any idea where he got the pole, but I assume it's more of his funky hammerspace magic.

Yes. Do you recognize it? he asks.

No, I admit. I was just guessing, but it seems like the most logical thing you could be doing. It reminds me of an alphabet I've seen before.

Ah, yes, I see! he nods happily. Well, I was thinking that the easiest way for me to get your name would be to teach you which sounds are associated with which letters and let you write it out yourself.

I drum the ground once with each of my legs in sequence.

That's very thoughtful of you, I tell him. Thank you. Let's get started.

And so we do, and I learn the basics of the dentron language. It is, as I feared from looking at how many damn letters it has, more comparable to Japanese than English. I don't know much Japanese, despite my heritage, but Dentronese (or whatever it's called) has the same basic structure to katakana: each letter is a syllable rather than a single phoneme, and accordingly there are well over twice as many of the stupid little squiggles than the English alphabet has. They use the odd guttural hiss as a consonant in a handful of letters, but the rest of the sounds are familiar. It's weird how they use mostly the same phonemes and syllable structure as my father's native language, but Dentronese still manages to sound way, way uglier. It grates on the ears even without adding in the occasional choking noise.

Still, it gets the job done. I point out the symbols for 'ha' and 'na,' quickly assembling a close approximation for my name.

"Ha… na," Teboho vocalizes. "Hana?" Is that right?

Hannah, yeah, I confirm. That's close enough. Thank you.

Of course, Hannah, he sends happily. It's truly the least I can do for you. I'd like to apologize for the other day, as well as for my sister's conduct this morning. Please forgive her. She struggles to get along with others.

I drum my legs again. I suppose it's as good a shrug equivalent as anything.

It's fine, I allow. Strange doesn't mean bad, I'll figure her out. We won't have any problems as long as she stops assaulting me.

Ah, but what if she has to throw you? he asks, shooting me an amused grin.

I hiss at him and he laughs, giving me a good look at his terrifying teeth. Hmm. Or perhaps not-so-terrifying teeth? They're a lot flatter than human teeth, his species probably eats a lot more plant matter than humans do. Certainly more than I do.

I would like to give you this corpse as apology, Kagiso says, having returned with the body of the small animal she recently exploded the skull of. She holds it out to me, its blood leaking between her fingers.

I stare at her. She stares silently back.

Um, thank you, I say. That's… very thoughtful of you.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Kagiso smiles very slightly.

Yay, is all she says, and then she wanders off to finish packing up the camp.

Hmm. I, uh, hope I haven't started a dangerous precedent. Should I even eat this? It's uh… got a lotta organs leaking out of it.

…Which actually makes it smell pretty good.

Okay, fine, waste not want not. I scuttle over to it and pull it into my mouth. Mmm, delicious raw meat. Let's not worry about how much I enjoy this and just let myself appreciate the flavor, okay? I have enough on my plate. And thankfully, my feeding practices don't seem to net me any strange looks from my companions. Well, not any that I think are because of the feeding practices, anyway. Before long the camp is collected into a set of packs which the group slings onto their backs, and very noticeably does not put into any kind of hammerspace. Hmm. Maybe the hammerspace mage doesn't have enough room for it all? …Or maybe my guess was just totally off.

So Hannah, just for clarity's sake, we're heading to the base of the branch and traveling further up the trunk, Sindri explains. You're comfortable heading that way, right?

I mean, I don't know what that is, so… hmm. Wait. Branch? Trunk? And I dug my way up through wood, right? Holy bagels, am I on a world tree!?

Um… is there a reason I shouldn't be comfortable heading that way? I ask hesitantly.

Sindri laughs.

Not unless you're wanted on the upper branches, I suppose. We shouldn't be going high enough to worry about the burning tunnels or anything like that. And with us around, you should be safe from any monsters along the way.

Uh. Hmm. Yeah that more or less confirms the world tree theory, unless it's all metaphorical. It feels like the kind of thing that might be dangerous to ask about because they'll definitely ask why I don't already know the answer to that question, and I won't have any lies that don't sound dumb. There's another question I want to ask, though. One that I do have a good excuse for.

I'm not sure I'm interpreting the word 'monster' correctly, I hedge. What's the difference between a monster and an animal?

Hmm. Nothing formal? Sindri answers after a brief pause. I suppose it's aesthetics, mostly.

Alright, so there's not some entire category of crazy something-or-another that monsters have, they're just… dangerous creatures, I guess.

Then let's get going, I suppose, I say.

Forgive me if this is an offensive question, Teboho says, but would you like a ride, Hannah? We are likely to keep a marching pace for quite some time.

Translation: 'your legs are smaller than our flipping feet and we're not gonna slow down for you.' I admit, it's a tempting offer, but I'm a bit hesitant to be treated like luggage.

I think I'll be okay for now, I say. I don't have to walk as far as you do.

I punctuate my point by stepping into a barren zone, eliciting surprise and a slight chuckle from Teboho. Once everyone starts to set out, though, I soon find myself struggling. I don't have to be constantly sprinting for my life anymore, but my tiny body still has awful heat regulation and I don't have enough time to rest in the cooler barren zones before I get exhausted. I make it barely half an hour before throwing in the towel.

Okay… remember your offer when we started, Teboho?

He laughs and kneels down, both palms out to let me scuttle onto two of his hands. I do so, feeling that terrifying, elating rush of being lifted into the sky. He places me carefully on top of his backpack, and I hook a leg into a couple of the straps and over each of his fuzzy shoulders to secure myself. Gosh his fur is soft, I can even feel it through the muted sense of touch in my legs.

You ready? he asks.

Yeah, sorry about this.

It's no trouble, he assures me, and then the horrifying giant starts to walk and I try very, very hard to scream. Of course, I still can't, so I have to settle for screaming inside my own brain.

Holy gondola he's so flippin' fast! I clearly take being five-foot two for granted, if this is walking speed for someone at human height. Considering my little spider body might maybe reach one foot two if I stand on my tippy toes, I feel like I'm living through Shadow of the Colossus right now! Aaand now I have Revived Power stuck in my head. Ah, well.

Though I feel what I assume is the sun beating down from above us, our trip up the steep tundra just keeps getting colder. Motes of frost and occasional patches of snow get more and more common, which might make me wonder if we were just on a normal mountain climb if not for the fact that I can still 'see' that, under the layer of dirt at our feet, there's wood rather than stone.

Ah, now that's a fantastic view of the trunk, Teboho says to me. It's majestic isn't it?

I'm blind, I remind him. I can only sense things close to me.

Oh, truly? My apologies. You're quite the strange little person, I must admit. I've never heard of anything like you. Does your kind hail from the Slaying Stone, like the humans?

I hesitate. I have to admit I'm ignorant at some point, I suppose. I just need that to not be suspicious. There was a level of intense vitriol in the words 'Slaying Stone,' so I probably don't want to push at that too hard.

I… don't think so? I answer. I'm sorry, I just… you literally found me living under a rock. I hardly know anything about the world. I've never met anything else like me either.

Ah, I see. I'm sorry to hear that. It must be difficult to be alone. If you're curious, I'm certainly happy to answer questions.

I appreciate that, I say honestly. I'm very curious about a lot of things, I've just never really had many people to talk to before. Is it okay if I ask stuff that might seem… I dunno, really stupid and basic?

Of course! he assures me.

Well, now or never, Hannah. …Well, okay, I mean it's actually more like 'now or any time after now, probably,' but let's pretend it's now or never to try and trick my procrastination instinct into shutting up.

…Are we on a big tree? I ask hesitantly.

There's a pause, and then Teboho bursts out laughing, jostling me unexpectedly enough to send a wave of terror through my body. Don't fall, don't fall…!

Well! You could certainly say that, Teboho confirms as his chuckles die down. Merely calling The Mother Tree 'big' is rather underselling it, however. You have, ah, sensed a tree before? You are familiar with their structure?

Yes, I say. I'm able to sense details very well, I just can't see light or color or things that are far away.

I see, I see, he nods. A tree has roots, it has a trunk, it has branches, and it has a canopy. The Mother Tree has all of these things as well, though the difference in scale is so vast it is barely comprehensible. Entire countries may exist on a single one of Her leaves. We are at the base of one of the Mother Tree's branches, where we will soon meet with the trunk. You know how the trunk of a tree has grooves, yes? Jagged and wavy patches between the individual pieces of bark? We will walk into one, a vast canyon deeper than the eye can see, and from there we will enter the trunk itself.

Yeah, okay. Standard world tree stuff.

It sounds beautiful, I say, trying to seem suitably awed. I wish I could see it.

Perhaps you can, Sindri chimes in. I'll try to work out an upgrade to the coordination spell that can allow us to better share senses. I think it will be useful for a number of purposes.

I shuffle irritably.

Like letting people tell you their names? Well, either way, I agree. That would be useful. I'd like to be able to see.

He nods and I return my focus to Teboho.

My next question is about you, if that's okay, I say.

Go ahead!

How does your magic work? I thought you might be Space-aligned like I am after seeing you make a hammer appear out of nowhere, but now I'm starting to think I'm wrong.

A good guess! he reassures me. But no. I am dual-aligned to Matter and Barrier. I can create static objects at will, with a focus on sturdiness. I use this to form myself weapons and armor, create cover for my allies, and give my sister objects to use her spells on if needed. She and I have always fought together as family, and I believe it is a sign of our bond that our innate magic compliments each other so well. Though I have to admit, I'm pleasantly surprised at how well Sindri's skills enhance our own, despite his unfortunate humanness.

Why thank you, Sindri sends dryly.

Sorry, can we clarify all that a little? I ask. You say your innate spells create matter?

Nearly all Matter magic does, Teboho confirms, not seeming to understand why I'm suddenly so exasperated. It is the primary feature of that form of magic. I can also un-create the things I create, though that's only the things conjured by myself personally.

Well crap in the peanut butter, that's… that's… what even is that!? The amount of energy required to make, like, a single gram of matter is in the terajoules! It's the kind of power scale where you start using gosh dang atomic bombs as a unit of measurement! Magic has to be absolutely cracked to the point of insanity unless mass-energy equivalence just isn't a thing in this universe… but if that's true then that's insanity. How would physics even work!? Aaaaaaaah!

Is… is there any chance you could give me a quick rundown on all the types of magic? I ask helplessly. If they're all as absolutely bonkers as Matter magic, I need to know sooner rather than later.

Of course, Teboho answers easily. The pairs are Order-Chaos, Pneuma-Death, Art-Matter, Motion-Barrier, Light-Space, and Heat-Transmutation. With the exception of Chaos, which is quite rare for any being to possess, they are all fairly common.

Huh. That's a decent variety, though there are some odd picks. Art? Barrier? I mean, Barrier is the opposite of Motion, so it's presumably about stopping stuff. Heat and Transmutation both seem like normal kinds of magic too, but why are they opposites?

Are there any others that are considered evil or overly dangerous the way Chaos is?

Death and Heat are the two complements to Chaos, so they are rarely smiled upon. Your naturalborn element is a reflection of who you are, after all, and both types of magic are nearly always destructive in nature. Death in particular is magic that revolves around the creation and abuse of departed souls, so its users are generally depraved.

And 'creation of departed souls' of course means 'killing people.' Cute.

Unlike Chaos mages, however, the naturalborn of Death and Heat are rarely incapable of controlling themselves, Teboho continues. If they are destructive and murderous, it is due to their own decisions, and they are thus judged by their actions, not the circumstance of their birth. However, this is not so with those of Chaos. The lack of volition that Chaos imposes on its naturalborn is the reason they must be purged. I…

He pauses, his breath catching a bit as I watch his tear ducts fill up ever so slightly from the inside. (Which is super gross, for the record.)

…I should speak of something else, I am sorry, he finally says.

It's fine, I assure him. Don't worry about it, Teboho.

I am normally much more composed, he insists. I fear my sister is handling our situation far better than I am.

I'm sure she's hurting, I tell him. She probably just doesn't show it the way other people do.

Of course, he sighs. Of course, you're right. Thank you, Hannah. You are very kind. I appreciate your patience with her.

I wriggle uncomfortably. I'd like to say it's just common decency, but I know better than to expect decency to be common.

I'm just giving her the benefit of the doubt, I insist. Mistakes and misunderstandings are forgivable. But if she doesn't treat me well then I'll run out of reasons to do so for her.

That seems more than fair to me, he agrees amiably. Did you have any other questions?

I am an endless barrel of questions, I answer frankly. I am confused and overwhelmed basically all the time.

He chuckles again, forcing me to squeeze his shoulders a bit tighter.

Well, my offer to answer them remains open.

Hmm. Well, now I have to choose one. I suppose I'll go with the greediest, most self-indulgent question.

…How do I actually do magic? I ask. Like… I know you apparently chased me because I'm naturalborn to Order, but I don't actually know how to do any Order magic.

That's not uncommon, Teboho assures me. But ultimately, I can't answer that question. It's your magic. While you might be able to learn generalized Order magic, the Order magic unique to you will make itself known when you discover it.

Wait, so I can learn spells in addition to just being born with them?

Of course! Well, as long as you're compatible with them. You can learn any spell as long as it's an element you have or an element that compliments your naturalborn ones. You'll never be able to learn, say, Heat magic, but you have a solid variety of magic you could pick up.

Wait, why won't I be able to learn Heat? I ask. No fireballs!? What sort of self-respecting wizard can't shoot fireballs? Worse, I won't be able to make magical air conditioning spells!

Your two elements, Order and Space, each complement Transmutation. You might even be naturalborn to Transmutation as well, but that's unlikely. Your aura would look the same either way, so it's hard to tell.

Hmm. I, uh, think I might be. No reason to tell him that, though.

And Transmutation opposes Heat, for some reason, I recall. What's up with that, anyway?

He thinks for a moment.

If you think of Order as the element of maintaining a form, he muses, Transmutation is the element of altering, improving, and advancing one. And while you can think of Chaos as the absence of form, the element of Heat is the process of destroying one. Heat is not mere temperature, but also the inevitability of waste, the infantry in Chaos' war against Order. It is the idea that, with every change, some beauty is burnt away and never returned.

You're talking about entropy, I realize. Every reaction creates thermal energy that becomes unavailable for work in a system.

Pardon? Teboho chuckles. I'm not sure I understood even half of that.

I understood it, Sindri comments. How do you know about entropy but not basic magical theory, Hannah?

Wait, how does Sindri know about entropy? Is the tech level here higher than I… no, wait, Kagiso uses a bow, and I don't see any post-industrial tech on Sindri. Why is science advanced enough to know about entropy but not make guns or clocks or whatever. Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, how the frizzle does entropy even apply to a world where people can create arbitrary matter!? Surely there must be some kind of hard limiting factor I don't understand there.

I have had a very strange education, is all I actually say in response. So basically, Transmutation makes things more complex, while setting stuff on fire generally makes things less complex. That's such a strange and arbitrary dividing line.

I'm not sure where you got the impression that the nature of the world needs to conform to your idea of a proper dividing line, Teboho chuckles. We make the best explanations we can, but at the end of the day Transmutation opposes Heat regardless of whatever we think makes sense.

I guess so, I grumble. It's just that—

Destination, Kagiso announces.

Destination? Sindri asks. What do you see?

Village.

A village? Sindri muses. That's strange. There wasn't even an outpost the last time I was here. Though I suppose it has been a couple years since I was this high on the tree.

Ah, will we be getting proper beds to sleep in tonight? Teboho asks. That would be a welcome change of pace.

Hmm. I was hoping to make progress through the burrow before we rest. But a proper inn is tempting.

Ah, but if there's a settlement here, there's almost certainly a trader's burrow. You know where our quarry is headed, don't you Sindri? We can simply take a more efficient path. The Chaos mage wouldn't have been able to enter a village of this size.

Sindri nods in contemplation.

Yes… all right. Let's stop in the village. Lead the way, Kagiso.

I grumble blindly as the conversation moves to discussion of a village that I won't be able to see until we're already inside it. I guess the rest of my magic lessons will have to wait. I've yet to even see a single structure in my range when a dentron man starts approaching us, wearing a heavy backpack and followed by a large sloth-like creature drawing a cart full of goods. I see textiles, mostly, with the occasional crate of fruit. The dentron man has a lot more clothing on than Kagiso and Teboho, presumably to show off his fancy wares. I wonder if they're dyed; I suppose they probably are, but I don't have any way to tell beyond asking. He's also wearing an interesting pendant with what looks like a twisting centipede on it, though it's underneath his shirt.

He says something to us all as he approaches, probably buttering us up to try and sell something. Naturally, I can't understand any of it. Sindri politely declines whatever it is he's asking about three times before he finally lets us go. He glances towards me every so often throughout his yammering, though I suppose I can't blame him. I'm pretty weird.

What a pushy guy, I comment dryly. He was wearing a weird pendant too. Some kind of bug?

Ah, he's probably a cultist, Sindri comments as if that wasn't an utterly terrifying revelation.

A cultist!? I ask. Like the human sacrifice kind?

What? No! Sindri snaps. They don't really do anything bad other than recruit rich merchants and exploit them for donations, preaching about the end of the world as if its coming wasn't obvious to everyone. The Tree of Souls has been dying for hundreds of years and it's taking the rest of the world with it. What would we need an apocalypse cult for?

Oh boy. More plot hooks. I hope this world doesn't expect me to save the Tree of Souls from The Great Bark Beetle of Annihilation or something. Like, what am I supposed to do, exactly? Tremble, for I am the great hero Hannah! I'll nibble your kneecaps off, foul fiend! At least as long as I can reach them!

Is the Tree of Souls the same thing as the Mother Tree? I ask as we continue to approach the settlement. I can see a giant wall of wood off to my side now, which I assume means this place is built next to the trunk.

Yes, that is what the humans call it, Teboho confirms.

I drum my legs on his fuzzy shoulders. I don't want to save a dying world. I just want cool magic and somewhere I can relax. And frankly, today has been promising in regards to those things. As long as these cultists don't turn out to be a problem, I think I can chalk today up as a win.

As we continue to approach the wall of bark, I find something interesting inside it: a tunnel. A human-sized tunnel, in fact, resting just behind the natural wall of the tree with small slits that lead outside to where we are. Bolt holes, maybe? No one is manning them, though, and soon enough I find the entryway to a series of man-made tunnels that lead into the trunk, marked by a pair of banners flying on either side.

Oh, that's kind of cool. The village is inside the tree.

Sure enough, we wander in unaccosted and I quickly notice a small marketplace, most of the stalls and buildings crafted by excavating wood out of the tree rather than building anything inside it. It looks almost like everyone is living in a giant sculpture. The vast majority of people here are dentron, but there are some humans as well. I do my best not to look at their internal organs and compare them to the particularly tasty ones I ate this morning. That was an animal, so it's very different.

I suppose we'll confirm the existence of a burrow that heads where we want to go, then find an inn, Sindri says. Our quarry already lost a lot of time heading to the upper branches, so we should gain on them even if we rest early today.

Another one of the merchants suddenly approaches us, this one also with one of the centipede pendants. He babbles a bit at Teboho and points at me, producing a large sack of what I assume is probably money.

Is he trying to buy me? I ask.

Yes… he is a beast trader. Teboho confirms, seeming shocked. I've told him you aren't for sale, though I suppose you should be flattered. You are apparently worth quite a lot.

I'm not a beast, though!

He insists you are.

Well he's rude! No selling me!

I would never dream of it, Hannah.

I wriggle uncomfortably. I do not like the idea of a cultist trying to buy me. Cultists are always bad news. He's probably wanting to use me for ritual components.

Maybe we shouldn't sleep here after all, I hedge.

You'll be fine, Sindri insists. I call them cultists but they're a recognized religion in most major nations. They're scammers, but not technically criminals. Besides, beast trading is a common and lucrative occupation for Pneuma naturalborn. He's not going to jeopardize his business or his life trying to steal from a Chaos hunter, not to mention two dentron warriors.

Okay but if something awful happens I reserve the right to say I told you so, I insist.

Seems fair to me, Sindri smirks.

Sindri then wanders off to confirm that there's a 'quality burrow' heading to wherever it is we're going, and since that apparently turned out well we buy a pair of rooms at the inn.

You said you were a woman, right Hannah? Teboho asks. Would you mind sharing a room with my sister?

I will not throw, Kagiso insists, though after a pause she adds …Unless emergency.

What kind of emergency would require you to throw me!? I grumble.

Will know when see it, she insists.

I wish I could sigh right now.

Just don't squish me or throw anything at me, I request in exasperation. If you can agree to that, I don't mind rooming with you.

I agree, Kagiso nods immediately.

There's no way this could possibly go wrong.