Morning came, and the forest was silent. Mist hovered around the temple, pouring from the mountain to the valley in slow rivers. The sun — if it really was a sun — was only barely peeking above the edge of the hex. The sky was grey and sunken, clouds hanging low, almost touching the tops of the pine trees. Theo woke, and dressed for war.

His scale-mail armor became his base layer. He wore it beneath his traveling clothes, the golden scales fitting snugly against his skin, coating his hands and throat. His traveller’s clothes concealed the scales fairly well — if an arrow or a dagger came his way, he hoped that the attacker wouldn’t guess he wore mail beneath his cloak. On top of it all was his druid’s cloak, dark green and melding with the forest around him. He donned it all, then summoned his staff. He moved through a few positions. His ability, Staff of Nature’s Power, allowed him to pack mana into each blow, and wind whipped around the runes of the staff. The knowledge of Spearcraft he’d stolen from a dead fish folk helped too, although there was no point to the staff. He practiced drawing water from the mist, manipulating it with his Warp Water ability. He could use his staff to direct and empower blasts of water that shook the forest, or to wrap himself in mist. He practiced until he knew he couldn’t wait any longer, and then woke Blake and Alice.

They set off while the sky was still dark, and crept through the woods northwest, towards where the bandit camp lay waiting. By the time they reached the area, they were spent and sweating, and lay down to rest — but not too long. They took what potions they had, and newly awake, began to climb the mountain. Theo remembered his steps, and Tiberius sniffed the ground, leading them upwards. They’d gone over the battle a hundred times, it seemed. They would start in hidden positions. Blake would open by attacking Serafin, who seemed the most powerful. His Void spell could potentially kill her right away, which would leave the rest more vulnerable. Alice and Theo would focus on taking out McClain from a distance, or at least weakening him. He was the leader, and without a head, a snake can’t fight. Kill him off the bat, and the rest would scramble.

Theo’s spells had grown more powerful since he’d left the dungeon. His thorn spray could nearly cut a tree in half, if he focused and poured mana into it. Likewise, being out of the dungeon, his Call of the Wild ability returned. He had practiced manipulating tree roots, which seemed to be the best use of it, and could snare rabbits and other small creatures with them. Nothing like what he’d done with the Velocirabbit, but that power seemed to be more and more elusive. He knew it was his feelings for Tiberius that allow him that burst of power. Would his feelings for Jessica be enough? He thought about the woman he knew, before the Great Game. He’d come to the realization that no matter who’d been taken, he’d be just as committed to getting them back. It wasn’t about a crush; it never was. But because of that, he couldn’t count on Call of the Wild.

Theo crouched beside a ruin, the others gathered around him. Blake and Alice were stony-faced, Blake clutching his staff, Alice her bow. They were close enough to the top that they needed stealth, and so none of them spoke. Instead, Theo turned to Tiberius.

Ready, buddy? he asked.

Tiberius cocked his head, wagging his tail. He reached out and nuzzled Theo. It okay. Go.

Theo took a deep breath. He hadn’t wanted to do this, but he finally admitted it was the best way to go about. He lowered himself into sitting cross-legged, like he was meditating. Then he closed his eyes, and reached out with his mana.

There was a brief sensation of flowing, like his mind was being poured from one glass to another. The smooth transition of electricity flashing across nodes, changing shape and frequency. When he opened his eyes the world had transformed.

For one thing, he was looking at himself, sitting cross-legged in the ruins. His eyes picked up more than he thought possible: everything in the woods seemed more alive. He twitched his nose, taking in the scents: there were faint lines of odors surrounding everything, stark enough that he could make out individual colors: the scent-lines from his own body were a kind of faint golden color, the smell of unwashed man and pine needles, but familiar and warm, like an old friend. Alice and Blake had their own scent lines, purple and blue respectively. Theo blinked, then opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out from his lower jaw. Blake crept forward and blinked.

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“Theo… are you in there?” he asked.

Theo looked down and saw his paws in the mud. Tiberius’ paws. Warging was going to get confusing. He turned to Blake and nodded. Everything about Tiberius’ dire wolves’ body felt different. His head felt heavier, his muscles stronger, his senses keener. The woods around Theo were alive with sounds: birds in the trees, rodents in the underbrush, even the sounds of distant thunder, rumbling in the clouds above.

He stood, at first wobbly, on his new legs. Then he began to creep up the butte, feet padding silently on the ground. One reason why he’d finally caved about Warging into Tiberius was that Tiberius was far stealthier than any of them, even Alice. If they needed intel, and if they were in a woodland environment, there was no better way to scout. He continued trodding up the mountain until new scent-lines made themselves visible. Two stuck out to him: one was charred black, and smelled like old campfire. The other was a mingling of colors and scents that indicated a group of people. Both led to the top of the mountain, along a little-used deer trail. He followed, pads of his huge feet hitting soundlessly on the pine-needle floor. Something about Tiberius’s body, or mind, made it easy to move stealthy. His instincts were greater than Theo’s, and this made each fall of the foot avoid leaves or twigs that might snap and reveal his location. It felt as natural as walking did to Theo.

The scent-lines grew stronger, and soon Theo could recognize the boundary of the ruined fort. Yes — there was a thin pink line of scent that Tiberius’s nose recognized as the scent of Jessica. Theo followed it, up to the peak of the butte, until he’d found the ruined walls of the fort. They concealed anything inside, but Theo waited, perked his ears up, and listened.

Nothing. Not a sound.

He moved around one of the walls, peeked an eye around it…

And saw the empty clearing. The only proof that the ruined fort had been inhabited was a spent fire-pit, black with ash.

Rage filled Theo. Whether it was his rage or Tiberius’ he didn’t know, but it felt primal and ancient. He lifted his head, sucked in air, and howled.

-

Theo woke in his own body, eyes snapping open. He stood, ignoring Blake and Alice’s questions, and raced to the top of the butte. He found Tiberius there, head hung low, smelling the abandoned campfire. Theo quickly used his bushcraft skill to examine the camp, but nothing of use came up.

Jessica was gone.

And the trail was dead.

Blake rushed in behind him, staff drawn and crackling with lightning as if ready for a fight. Alice fell from the treetops, her enchanted cloak slowing her to a stop besides Theo. They looked around, lowering their weapons when they saw there was no danger.

“She’s gone,” Theo said. He didn’t have it in him to be frustrated. In truth, he’d been expecting it, deep down. They had no idea how long they’d been inside the dungeon. Anything could have happened to her. She could have been killed by McClain or Serafin. Their whole party could have been killed by a beast or by other people. Or they simply could have moved on; there was no point in staying in one place, after all. Theo took a deep breath.

“Theo…” Blake started. He reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

Theo shrugged it off. “This is my fault,” he said.

Blake and Alice remained silent.

Theo spoke again. “This is my fault, and now she’s gone. Or worse. I killed her. But I guess I shouldn’t even care. It’s not like she’s the first.”

He closed his eyes, knelt in the dirt and the snow. He lifted a hand of ash from the dead bonfire.

“What now?” Blake asked.

Theo thought for a moment. “We can’t keep hunting her down forever. We might find her again; me might not. At a certain point we have to cut our losses. I want to find her; I do. But we need to… we need to be smart.”

Blake and Alice looked at each other.

“What?” Theo said.

“No, I mean, I agree,” Blake said, “it’s just… that doesn’t really sound like you, Theo.”

Theo frowned, standing. “Yeah, well. It’s a tough world. I’m adapting.”

He didn’t look at Alice and Blake’s expressions, but he knew they were uneasy. He’d been the one to insist they go after Jessica. If they didn’t have that…

“What do we do now?” Alice asked.

“We keep leveling. We look for Jessica as best we can. If the fates align, maybe we find her again. If she’s still out there. But for now… we survive. Win this game. Get out alive.”

He turned to Blake and Alice. They both looked around the campsite, desperate for any trace of their friend. But Theo had already looked; there was none. The bandits had covered their tracks, and time and snow had done the rest.

“Come on. It’s getting dark. We’ll need shelter,” Theo said. He moved away from the campfire, leaving Tiberius sniffing around, tail tucked, whining. He didn’t want to leave Jessica, and Theo could feel the sadness radiating off of him.

“Come on, Tiberius, we have to—“

But he was cut off by the twang of a bowstring, by the thud of arrow hitting flesh. He turned, summoning his staff to his hand as a reflex, bringing mana to his hands…

And saw Alice falling, an arrow stuck in her throat.