Edgar and I spoke for nearly an hour about Dragontooth’s environment. The tortoise was ancient, well over two hundred years old, and remembered when the glaciers had been in entirely different positions. He told me that these were slow glaciers, but even still, across the span of his life, they had shifted over a hundred meters.

I was starting to shiver, even through the highly insulated parka and the ungated heating spells I was casting inside of it, when Edgar finally wrapped up the discussion.

“Well, you must be getting cold. And I’m sure you’re wondering what the rules of the beastgate trial are.”

“I have enjoyed the conversation,” I said through chattering teeth. “But I did want to know some things, yes.”

“The Beastgate Trial Trail is, first and foremost, a test of survival skill,” Edgar said. “If you wish to abandon the trial, you need to only call my name three times, and touch the nearest shadow. But to properly complete it, you will hike the entire trail, from here to my home, over a hundred and fifty miles north of here. And allow me to clarify that I do mean hike. Things like flight or teleportation are fine for you to use in combat, but they do not test your survival skill.”

That was… A lot. To do it in a month would be doable, though. The hardest part would be fighting through the ice and the snow, and that would be difficult.

At least there was an out condition, though. If I got too far over my head, I could be pulled out. I just needed to be sure that I didn’t get into a situation where I couldn't even say his name three times.

“My power will stir the beasts in the land,” Edgar warned. “They won’t hunt you down at all hours of the day and night, but when passing through their territory, they will be more quick to attack than normal.”

Ah, that would add a bit of a challenge then. Still, with the Foxstep, I was confident that I’d be able to make it through. Edgar had said that combat teleportation was fine, after all.

“And as I said, this is a test of your survival skill. Not your bonded partner, nor your wallet. Apart from whatever unenchanted clothes you wear, a single tarp, and whatever magic you have made with your own hands, you may bring nothing to the test.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. That would be… Hard. Almost suicidally hard, in fact. The clothes I’d bought were nice, sure, and could fend off some of the windchill. I supposed that would be what the tarp was for, but…

“To clarify… Magic that I’ve made with my own hands would include potions I’ve made, right? So long as I was the one to make them, and they weren’t just purchased from the store. You’re not going to trap me on the technicality of the glass used to hold them being purchased or anything.”

“Potions are fine, I’m not trying to trick you,” Edgar said, dipping his enormous head in a nod. “So long as they were made by you, you may bring as many as you can carry. Not as many as your partner can carry – you.”

A plan started to form in the back of my mind then, and I nodded slowly.

“Can I break through?” I asked. If I could, then the surge in potency that was offered by the ascension would massively increase my odds.

“You may,” Edgar said. “But I do not recommend it. If the mark is placed at third gate, even if you earn the highest quality mark I can produce, it won’t mesh into you as well. The gap in soul and body strength and rigidity between a practitioner and a spellbinder is too great. And if you do intend to spellbind it, you want it as meshed as possible.”

That was good to know. I’d break through if I had no other option, but I’d avoid it if at all possible. I wasn’t sure if I’d spellbind the mark or not, but…

“How?” I asked curiously. “Surely power is power. My growth item is bonded to me too, and it doesn’t seem any weaker because I bonded it while I was a second gate.”

“Growth items are a new phenomena, only emerging when I was around twenty or so,” Edgar rumbled. “This uses a different method. It’s a combination of a mana and energy bond, like your growth item, but the marks nature is that of an artificial improvement upon a natural treasure. Incidentally, that’s the only reason I think you’ll be able to even remotely handle it. With your body and soul growing into a single meshed gestalt, you’re able to spread the pressure of the magic across both body and soul.”

“Because I’ve got such a strong bond to Dusk, and a growth item?” I asked.

“Indeed,” Edgar said. “Your bond with the worldspirit – Dusk, you say her name is? – is quite impressive. Not just magically speaking, but–”

“How did you know she’s a worldspirit?” I asked nervously, interrupting the massive tortoise.

“I could feel her mana,” Edgar said, “and I can feel the power running through your spirit. She was born from the destruction of the astral plane, no?”

“Something of the sort,” I said vaguely.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Well, the bond you share is remarkable in both magic, and trust. She is actually leaking some of her dominion into her body, if I understand it correctly.”

“What does that do?” I asked, knitting my eyebrows together. I was fairly sure her dominion was the strange magic she called on that seemed to warp reality, but I didn’t know a ton about spirit progression.

“I’m not sure,” the turtle said. “But it is interesting. I do believe we’re drifting off topic again. Did you have any other questions?”

“What’s the grading system?” I asked.

“I watch the actions you take, and judge them,” the tortoise said. “I have a scorecard I keep for each contestant, with a maximum of a hundred points. If you have to use the enchantments to shadowstep you out of the trial, you’ll lose thirty points, and your trial is considered over. If you survive to the end of the month without calling on them, but don’t make it to the end of the trail, you’ll lose up to twenty, depending on how far you got.”

“What are the categories? What does each mark do?”

“The strength of the mark directly correlates to the scores,” Edgar said. “So even if you lose a few points, you may still qualify for the highest strength of mark. If you score below a fifty, you gain nothing. Fifty, sixty, seventy, so on and so forth.”

“But what does the mark do? And what criteria are we graded on?”

A twinkle that reminded me of starlight appeared in the tortoises’ eyes.

“That, I’m afraid, is for me alone to know. Is there anything else?”

I cast my mind about, trying to think of anything, but when nothing came to mind, I shook my head.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Thank you again, for both the conversation, and for the information on the rules.”

“Naturally,” the tortoise said, then slowly pulled his head into his shell. I turned and foxstepped back towards the town.

When I got back to town, I purchased a thick tarp that was designed to hold up against some of the worst temperatures that I might encounter on the trail. It had holes poked into its corners, with little bits of metal around it to stop the tarp from fraying, which was perfect for my plan.

I also purchased another two shirts and pair of pants, and a better fitting sports bra. The one I’d worn in the Idyll-Flume was too small for me now, which gave me a surge of elation. Progress – real progress!

But Edgar had said whatever clothes I could wear would be allowed, so I was going to bring a spare set of clothes.

With my remaining funds, I purchased a collection of three hundred small potion vials, before finally fulfilling my promises to the bwbatches. After their help in the Idyll-Flume, I’d promised to buy them some beer, and there was a shockingly well stocked liquor store in town, for how small the town was. I purchased some cheap grain alcohol at the store too, as well as some saltpeter from the general goods store, and went to find Kene.

“So,” I told them back in our room. Dusk was still asleep, processing the power of the natural treasure. “Here’s the plan…”

Thanks to the Idyll-Flume ending a bit early, and our decent food budgeting, I still had a small stock of nutrition potions, and expanding it out to be enough for the entire month trip, along with a couple of extras in case a potion broke along the way, would only take a day or so of brewing.

Having the nutrition potions would take care of food and water, which would be two of the biggest concerns on the trail, and should let me get far ahead of my competitors. While they had to hunt for food and melt the snow, I’d be able to treat this much more like a normal hike in extreme weather than a post-apocalyptic survival scenario.

Warmth, on the other hand, would be much harder to manage.

In theory.

But I’d just seen the witch using my firecreep and ash willow to create a part of a potion that kept the bath warm for hours on end. I didn’t understand how she’d done it, but she’d also used it to seep into Kene, and add some sort of purification factor.

I didn’t need any of that. I just needed a potion that would help me resist the freezing temperatures, especially while I slept. I might not need it quite as much while I was walking around, but even then, with how cold it was, it may be better to over prepare and have them for the day, too.

“Ah, I see why you tracked me down now, even with me unable to directly help. I can probably show you how to make a potion that does that,” Kene said. “I know a spell to create alchemical heat packs, which is absurdly simple. Converting it to spread through the body and linger for a day should be possible for sure.”

Couple that with some potions to remove my scent, courtesy of the blueshade plant, and my alchemical arsenal should be pretty well rounded to help me survive.

I already had a knife made of bone stored inside my Pinpoint Boneshard spell, which would give me some degree of flexibility with my tools, and I could use Sense Directionality and Analyze Space to figure out where I was and where I was going. My Internal Pocketwatch could combine with those to ensure that I kept up the pace of at least five miles a day.

That was a decent clip. Doable under normal conditions, certainly, but with the need to constantly keep a watch out for animals, landslides, and more, it would be a difficult pace. I couldn’t imagine having to try and keep that pace without even being able to track how far I’d gone, hunting for food, and trying to boil water every day.

When I did stop for the night, I could use the Spatial Tripwire spell to alert me if anything came at me.

“It’s a good plan. What about attack potions?” Kene asked. “You can push up to third gate, and having a couple of firebombs that are about on par with a fireball is a good idea.”

“If I’ve got the time,” I said. “But if not, then…”

I shrugged, and Kene nodded their agreement.

“You do have a bit over a week to get it done. That’s a lot of time to spend on alchemy, especially if you’re using your big cauldron. How are you going to carry all of these, though?”

I gestured to the tarp.

“I’m going to create a backpack out of the tarp,” I said.

“Doesn’t that need string?”

In response, I held up my hand and focused, dragging out one of the thin, yet strong, branches of excess mana I’d trimmed off the tree that was my Pinpoint Boneshard spell. It resembled a bone in my hands, yet could flex like a branch, and it took a ton of effort for me to snap.

“Nope,” I grinned. “After all. This is magic I’ve made with my own hands.”

“Color me impressed,” Kene said. “You’ve got a decent plan here.

A teasing tone entered their voice.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go charging into the woods to try and catch an acidic frog without even looking up what it can do?”

“That was months ago!” I protested. “How rude!”

“Have you taken a look at the temporal tortoises around here?” Kene asked innocently, changing the subject. “It could be interesting for you. If you had it storing temporal energy in your nails and bones, and your temporal basin… Well, your temporal recovery is already lagging, and it would make it lag further, but it could add a second reserve of temporal magic!”