My grip tightens on the dagger. With my focus on Ten more than him speaking about the strange mechanics he used with the help of some dwarven miner, I step forth with the urge to remove any more from my dragon’s nest. Another step and the oblivious halfling complains about not bringing his screwdriver to tighten the bolts on what’s keeping the dragon egg warm in his woven basket.

Ignorant brown eyes look up at me when I am standing before him, an innocent smile on his face. It bothers me. Where is the fear? Why doesn’t he look at me as if I am an enemy he met? Anything to give me more confidence to raise this dagger and end his life.

Taking a deep breath, I kneel at the basket and hand Ten my dagger. “Use this to tighten the bolts.”

“Thanks, lady!” he says spiritedly. The way he speaks is jarring to me. He’s too nice. It’s strange. “What’s your name? And what dragon egg did you steal from?”

I sniff, the air sharp, thin and shortening my breaths, filling my lungs like there’s a dagger slicing in my lungs. When I breathe out, I say, “Inari—from Wyl.”

Vidian leans down, a smirk settling on his face. “Where in Wyl?”

I rise when Ten hands me back my dagger. With a sharp look up at the high elf, my eyes narrow. “I’d like to kill you on this journey. The way you speak irritates me.”

His smirk turns cruel. “And the way you put bodies in front of you, risking lives to get what you want, will always bother me, wood elf. But here I am, carrying your boy because I, as well as you, are very aware that you wouldn’t be able to carry him.”

Turning away, I walk ahead. “Then leave him there. It doesn’t bother me. I did not want a companion… especially someone who cannot control his emotions and acts on jealousy when it is unnecessary.”

Vidian strolls beside me, laughter filling the cold, howling wind. “Jealous? Did he want to kill me out of jealousy? Hmm…” He rolls his dark eyes. “Perhaps the slightest, but as soon as you mentioned my egg coming from the same as your nest, he let that arrow loose fast.” Vidian’s expression hardens. “What are you wood elves up to? I’m oddly curious.”

I shoot him a warning look.

“Guys, wait up!” Ten calls from behind.

“You wouldn’t be happening to kill everyone from your egg nest, would you?”

“No,” I say flatly.

“Guys! Wait up, please!”

Vidian smirks. “No? You aren’t threatened because there’s a crack in your egg?”

I contort my face. “I don’t care. Not an ounce of fucks are given,”—I roll my eyes toward him, a glint in my eye—“from me.”

“You know what, it’s okay. You go ahead. I will catch up!”

Vidian stares ahead. “I understand what you’re saying.”

“Good.” I turn to Ten, hobbling from behind. I wait because I need someone to cut the tension Vidian seems to bring. Besides, the halfling is a doctor. It’s more valuable than cutting his life short just to kill an egg that has a higher percentage of being rotten than any other. He is not its rightful owner but a halfling being too kind to a world crumbling underneath Nerkactor’s feet.

When the halfling, burrowed under the snow, not having the grace of an elf, grows nearer, we set out toward the cavern entrance. Unlikely allies who want the eggs we all hold to have a favourable blessing from the Shrine Maidens.

In his drowsy form, Dagen comes back to us, even knowing I wouldn’t mind if he slept the entirety of the way there. Before he’s aware of his surroundings, Vidian flops him on the ground, turns to me and says, “Before your lover tries to kill me again, I shall venture further ahead without distraction.”

“Sure.”

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He breathes a laugh. “I know where you are from now…” Vidian gazes ahead; the sickly light from thickly stretched white clouds seeps dull light across his face. “You’re Yorn. No one else in Wyl speaks as abruptly as wood elves from Yorn. Cold, calculating… filled with fury. Fighters.” He tilts his head toward me. “And you, wood elf, are most certainly a fighter. I might have to keep an eye on you, for I can see you joining the enemy for the right price.”

My lip curls into a sneer. “I’d never.”

“Sure,” he mimics me from earlier, causing my teeth to grind.

Vidian jogs ahead, the falling snow and thick wind brushing snow across his body, hiding him from view.

Dagen rises, ready for combat, but his attempt this time comes from embarrassment for letting the high elf best him as easily as breathing. Not even Ten wants to praise him but presses his lips thin and explains the injury Dagen has and that he needs to drink the milk tea to calm the pain thrumming across his temple.

“And your dragon egg, halfling,” Dagen demands.

Ten thins his lips further, and the earnest look tightens like a mask when, after introductions, Dagen still refers to Ten as a halfling.

I step forward and say, “Elghul… but there is a chance it may rot. The egg doesn’t belong to him.”

Ten glances at me but does not refute my lies. He’s a smart halfling, too, knowing and sensing danger quickly. I often heard halflings have the best intuition and can sense intentions quicker than any other. And it does not take long to know Dagen’s questioning comes off as harsh, investigative and amateurish. The best hunter does not mean he has the brightest of brains. My praise for him earlier to Norlon seems to unravel more like a loose thread on a woollen jumper. Disappointing, annoying and bothersome. Dagen’s way of treating others who are not wood elves bothers me. Not long does he look at Ten as if he’s beneath him, but he also sees him as weak, even after I praised him as a doctor we may need on this journey.

And now, he continues to do so.

Dagen laughs. “Then what is the use of teaming with his halfling, Inari? He does not benefit us in the slightest.”

“That’s rude of you to say.”

Tingles prick up my spine. Hopping to the left, I reach for my dagger when two high elves move through the hailstorm. She has light, fair hair dripping with blue diamonds, blue eyes as bright as the sky, and pale, ivory skin. The high elf wears a tight blue tunic, heightening her thickened curves and a big bust, and lace sandals, her toes brushing into the snow, twinkling a midnight blue. She wears a lot of jewellery, with tight, golden bands moving up her right arm, revealing swirling blue ink underneath.

The man high elf with her has his hand on the hilt of his sword, staring at us menacingly. His eyes are blue, too, and he has fair skin but long light brown hair falling straight down to his waist, flowing airily in the wind. He does not wear casual clothes like her, but light armour tells me he’s prepared for a fight. More so than Vidian, who wore a light tunic and tights, convincing me he feels comfortable with his magic to care for armour… or a bow.

He concerns me the most. More so because he’s smart. Intelligent high elves worry me more than a human holding a sword, waging war.

The high elf grips her companion’s arm and says, “Wood elves. It has been some time since we’ve entered Wyl. Look how cute they are, Aego.”

The male frowns, causing dimples to pinch his cheeks. “Do not belittle them, sister. They are likely over a hundred years… perhaps thousands.”

“Oh!” She claps her hands together and steps forward. “Forgive me. I often forget wood elves—”

My brows furrow at the dazed look in her eyes.

Aego steps in front of her, cutting my contact with her and says, “Are you heading to the cavern entrance?”

I look away from her and to the male elf. “Yes. Do you care to join us?”

He smiles, and I find it enchanting. “I believe we may slow you down as companions. Gilwen would like to explore.”

Ten raises his hand. “Do we not have a day limit? From today, we must reach the top within thirty days.”

Aego’s eyes crinkle. “We will arrive timely.”

I snap a look at him. “We did not know of a day limit…” I turn to Dagen. “Did you?”

“Norlon did not say anything.”

My teeth grit, and my hands ball into fists. Norlon withheld that information because he didn’t want me to reach the top of the mountain. He prays Helion will get to the top while I wander in the dark, not knowing there is an expiration date, only to find the blessings have ended and their doors shut.

“We should move quickly then, Ten and Dagen,” I say.

Dagen curls his lip, disapproving of me wanting to keep the halfling. Yet, it is also not his decision to make. He is a companion. Someone coming on the journey to protect me. He has no right to tell me who I choose to befriend or keep at a distance—and I want to keep Helion and Vidian at a distance.

“Oh!” Gilwen grabs Aego’s arm and pushes him lightly until she’s peeking out from the side of him. “Can we journey with you?”

I snap a look at Aego and his tight, clenched jaw.

“More the merrier!” Ten announces.

I do not believe this is a good idea. Aego looks as if he will kill us in his sleep. However, his sister… her faded gaze and how he tried shielding it makes me curious about her.

“Sure. It is better to group.” I smile tightly.

“If there are trolls or golems in the mountains, we can fend for them easier,” Dagen agrees. “Besides, it is better than that other high elf.”

I hear the irritation, but I choose to ignore it as we move up the mountain with our new companions.