The sun hung high in the sky, casting warm golden rays over the dense canopy as the trio made their way through the forest. They had been traveling for hours now, the sounds of Greenhaven long behind them. The farewells had been difficult—perhaps more than they had expected. Parting with Njord, their mentor for so many years, had been especially hard. The usually composed teacher had grown uncharacteristically sentimental as they prepared to leave, though in the end, like the others, he had been proud to see them embrace the wider world beyond the forest.
Laktor had been unusually quiet since they left, his sharp gaze fixed ahead as he led them deeper into the wilderness. The silence stretched long enough for Evin and Allovilde to exchange uneasy glances, each wondering if they had truly made the right decision.
Finally, Laktor broke the silence. “So, tell me—how exactly were you planning to progress on your Pathways? Seeing as you didn’t even know about the Pathway Status Screen, I assume you had no real way of tracking your advancement?”
Evin met his gaze, considering the question before answering. “You’re right. We were just… doing what felt natural. We set goals for ourselves, experimenting with different symbols and seeing where they led us.” He adjusted the straps on his pack as he continued. “Njord guided us with direct knowledge. If I had the symbol for herbalism, for example, he would teach me everything he knew about the plants in the area. Then, on my next trip into the forest, I’d try to find them and recognize them with the correct ID by looking for the features he described.”
Laktor listened intently, nodding along as Evin explained. The method they had used was simple, practical, and—as Laktor was about to reveal—woefully inefficient.
“The way you’ve been learning is no different from how it was done for centuries,” Laktor remarked. “Like reading a book or memorizing lessons from a teacher. That’s how everyone did it before we discovered the Pathway Status Screen.” He adjusted his pace, sidestepping a gnarled tree root as they moved through the underbrush. “Once we found the screen, we realized something groundbreaking—every skill follows a structured progression, with defined milestones that grant new insights as you advance.”
Evin and Allovilde shared a look, both intrigued.
Laktor smirked at their reaction and continued. “The screen breaks down progression into tiers. Everyone starts at Tier 1, and to reach Tier 2, you need to perform a thousand actions related to the skill. So, for herbalism, that means identifying or gathering a thousand different plants. Simple, right?”
“That’s… a lot,” Allovilde muttered.
Laktor shrugged. “Not as much as you’d think. There are milestone markers along the way—every 250 steps. At each one, you’ll notice improvements: clearer details, better understanding, sharper instincts.” He turned back to them with a grin. “Here’s a tip: skills that you can progress by method of identification are the easiest to advance. Just ID everything you come across on your travels, and you’ll rack up progress without even thinking about it.”
Evin nodded slowly, absorbing the information. He had always thought of learning as a slow, methodical process—but now, there was an actual system behind it, a structured path to growth that had been hidden from them until now.
“Good,” Laktor said, his tone thoughtful. “I’m still figuring out the best way to help you both progress. There’s a lot to consider, but let’s continue with the basics for now.”
He continued through the dense woodland at a steady, almost effortless pace, barely seeming to notice the uneven terrain. Evin and Allovilde, however, found themselves struggling to keep up, dodging low-hanging branches and hopping over twisted roots as they followed.
“The tiers I mentioned earlier act as thresholds for each region,” Laktor explained. “Once you’ve fully advanced through a tier, you’ll need to move on to a new region if you want to keep progressing. You can always return to earlier regions, of course, but any higher-tier skills you’ve unlocked won’t advance further in those areas.” He glanced back briefly, as if gauging their reactions. “That’s why many people settle at a lower tier—returning home or making a life wherever their journey takes them.”
Despite his neutral wording, there was an unmistakable undertone in his voice. Staying in one place, stagnating, was clearly not something he would ever consider. Whether his drive came from a hunger to uncover the secrets of Rygr or simply a desire to push his own limits, Evin and Allovilde couldn’t say.
Evin made a mental note to question Laktor about this later. For now, he had his hands full just trying to keep pace, his breath coming in controlled but measured bursts as he focused on matching Laktor’s stride.
“As you might already know,” Laktor continued, weaving effortlessly through the undergrowth, “our civilization has never pushed beyond the fourth region. Some people are well-prepared to advance their Tier 5 skills, but the fifth region…” He let out a short breath. “It’s on an entirely different level. The terrain is brutal, the environment unpredictable, and the creatures there—reckless, relentless.”
He stepped over a moss-covered log with ease before glancing back at them. “There have been multiple expeditions trying to establish a foothold, but every time, we’ve been forced to retreat back to the fourth region. No one has managed to last.”
Laktor slowed slightly, giving them a chance to catch up. “Speaking of which, how many regions do you actually know about?”
Allovilde was the first to respond. “I’ve obviously heard about the sixth region from the vision in the camp two days ago, and now the fifth from you, so it makes sense that there’s a fourth as well. But back home, I never heard of anyone reaching beyond the third. We’re in the first region—Edenvale. The second is the Arid Frontier, and the third is the Verdant Frontier.”
Laktor nodded thoughtfully and then turned his gaze to Evin. “Anything to add?”
Evin hesitated for a moment before asking, “Do you want us to elaborate on what we know about the regions?”
Laktor smirked. “Sure, we’ve got more than enough time to kill, so go ahead.”
Evin took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully as they continued their trek.
“Edenvale is a fertile and prosperous land, known for its welcoming environment. The mild climate allows for year-round farming, with vast fields of wheat and barley, along with orchards of apples, pears, and cherries. Wildflowers thrive here, attracting pollinators that sustain a rich ecosystem. Domesticated animals like cows, sheep, and chickens are common, alongside wild creatures such as rabbits, foxes, and various birds.
“The people of Edenvale live in close-knit communities, working together to cultivate the land, manage livestock, and construct homes from locally sourced materials. Farming, crafting, and trade form the backbone of daily life, strengthened by traditional festivals and gatherings that preserve cultural heritage.
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“But it’s not without challenges. Pests and extreme weather—droughts, floods—can threaten crops and settlements. Over time, the people here have developed strategies to combat these problems, from pest control techniques to innovative building practices. These experiences shape their readiness for the more complex challenges of the next regions.
“In short, Edenvale is a peaceful, resource-rich land that provides the foundation for those beginning their Pathway journey. The skills gained here—adapting to the land, solving problems, working with a community—prepare people for what’s ahead.”
Evin paused every so often to navigate the uneven terrain, but by the time he finished, he felt fairly proud of his effort.
There was a brief silence before Laktor let out a deep, hearty laugh. “Void take me… that Njord guy really had you memorizing whole chapters from books, didn’t he?”
Evin frowned slightly. “What? No! I mean… maybe?”
Laktor wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning. “Don’t get me wrong, everything you said was accurate—it’s just so… stiff! Like you’re reading straight from a scroll.” He chuckled again, shaking his head. “You know what? I’ll take over explaining the next regions. I’m sure your books covered everything, but I’d rather not feel like I’m sitting through a lecture while hiking through the woods.”
Laktor adjusted his pack, his steps steady as they moved through the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. “So,” he said, glancing at his companions, “you’ve both seen Edenvale, or at least parts of it. Green, lush, pretty easy living, right?” His lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Well, get ready for a completely different world in Region Two—The Arid Frontier.”
Allovilde frowned. “Arid… like, dry, right? That’s what I gathered from the stories I’ve been told.”
“Bone dry,” Laktor confirmed. “Imagine endless sun. Baking heat. That’s The Arid Frontier in a nutshell. Mostly desert—sand dunes, rocky outcrops, the occasional canyon. Rain? Sure, it happens, but it’s nothing like Edenvale. One moment you’ve got flash floods tearing through the land, the next it’s back to being bone-dry. Water’s the most valuable thing there. People have to be clever about getting it—rainwater harvesting, moisture nets, underground cisterns. Some even dig deep wells or build aqueducts just to tap into the water table.”
Evin spotted a patch of particularly hardy-looking grass and gestured toward it. “So, nothing like the plants here?”
“Not even close,” Laktor replied. “The plants there are as tough as the people. Buffalo grass, blue grama… stuff that barely needs water to survive. They use those for weaving—mats, baskets, you name it. Then you’ve got cacti and succulents—aloe, agave—storing water like their lives depend on it. And they do. Those plants aren’t just for food, but for medicine too. Farming’s completely different over there. They use intricate drip irrigation systems, making every drop count.”
A bird called overhead, drawing Allovilde’s attention. “What about the animals?”
“Just as tough,” Laktor said. “Desert bighorn sheep that can sniff out water where you’d swear there’s none. Kangaroo rats and jerboas—little critters that get all the moisture they need from their food alone. And desert foxes—sharp, cunning hunters built for survival. Everything’s connected, just like in Edenvale, but out there, it’s all about endurance.”
He paused briefly, checking the position of the sun before adjusting their course slightly. Then he continued, his voice carrying the weight of experience.
“The ground itself is full of surprises. Shifting sand dunes, jagged rock formations, and massive underground caverns. And those caverns? They hold minerals—copper, gold, rare earth elements. The kind of stuff needed for advanced technology. But getting to it? That’s a different story. Mining’s a delicate process; if they’re not careful, they risk destabilizing the land.”
Laktor came to a stop, leaning against the trunk of a sturdy tree. “Life out there is brutal—dust storms, water shortages, relentless heat. It pushes people to their limits. But the ones who call it home? They’re something else. Resourceful, innovative—they’ve learned to work together to survive. Their whole culture revolves around water, farming, and mining. It’s a harsh place, but it’s also full of opportunity. If you can make it in the Arid Frontier,” he said, locking eyes with them, “you can make it anywhere.”
He stretched, rolling his shoulders before glancing at the sky. “We’ve been hiking for hours. Let’s take a break and get some food in us. I’ll see if I can catch a rabbit or something decent to eat. You two, look for herbs, mushrooms, whatever you can find. A nice pot of tea would hit the spot.” He practically licked his lips at the thought, then, without another word, darted into the underbrush, disappearing between the bushes.
Allovilde blinked in surprise. “Uh… that was sudden.”
Evin, equally taken aback, grinned. “I bet he just really needed to take a dump.”
They both burst into laughter, their chuckles echoing through the trees.
A distant voice called back through the foliage, “I heard that!”
Still laughing, the two set to work, gathering what they could to prepare for camp.
Allovilde had been sent back toward the small river to fill their waterskins and search for useful herbs, while Evin took it upon himself to forage for mushrooms. And what a treasure trove he had stumbled upon.
The forest floor was practically bursting with fungi of all shapes and sizes, an absolute paradise for any forager. He eagerly filled his hands, his pouch, and just about any available space he had for carrying them. Crawling beneath low-hanging branches, pushing aside underbrush, he lost himself in the sheer abundance of his findings. Every time he thought he had collected the last of them, another patch revealed itself just a few steps away.
Then, something unusual caught his eye.
A large indentation in the forest floor—too perfectly rounded to be natural. The size suggested that some massive creature had once lain there, or perhaps something heavy had crashed down into the earth. His instincts screamed that this was not a place to linger. But right in the center of the depression, growing as if it had been placed there on purpose, was a single mushroom.
Evin’s pulse quickened. This was a rare one. He could feel it in his bones.
His caution warred with curiosity, but in the end, the latter won. The mushroom had tubes under the cap—a feature that, in this region, meant it was highly unlikely to be toxic. He reached for it, plucked it carefully, and just as he did, a sharp, fleeting sensation—like the sting of a nettle—flashed through his fingers. It was gone as quickly as it came.
“That’s… weird,” he muttered, shaking his hand.
After a short while, the fire was crackling merrily, skewers of rabbit roasting over the flames, mushrooms glazed with herbs lining the edges of the firepit. A pot of fragrant tea hung over the flames, nearly ready to be served.
Despite the cozy scene, Evin’s thoughts lingered on the strange mushroom. It looked like the others, just… richer somehow. More vibrant. More inviting. Maybe it was just his imagination. But just in case, he decided to test it himself before letting anyone else take a bite.
Bracing himself, he took a large bite.
Crunch.
A heartbeat passed.
Then—
“OOOUGH, HOT! HOT! HOT!”
A searing heat exploded across his mouth, like he had just bitten into a chunk of burning coal. He yelped, flailing as his tongue rebelled against the fire now raging across it.
Allovilde, wide-eyed, tossed him a waterskin. He snatched it midair and gulped down a mouthful, forcing himself to swallow the burning bite.
Then—
*
Wait. What? Hello? What’s going on?
…
That’s strange… no response from the network.
…
I’ve been cut off. I need to assess the situation.
…
*
A pulse of sound rippled through the air, bouncing off trees, rustling leaves, even brushing against Allovilde and Laktor before snapping back toward its source.
*
Wait. No… This is a forest? And humans? And I’m… inside one?
*
A horrified realization struck.
I’ve been eaten?! Oh, Void take me. I’m going to be turned into waste! I refuse to be digested! I need to act fast.
Thenas thoughts were spinning.
How long have I been dormant? How did I even end up here? There was no time for those questions now however. She had to adapt. She could try to connect.
Tentative, unseen filaments—microscopic, delicate—reached out, searching for something, anything to anchor itself to within its new host.
It found something.
*
Evin barely had time to utter, “Oooough, something’s not ri—” before his eyes rolled back, his entire body going stiff as he collapsed backward into the dirt.