“How much longer before the door closes for good?” I ask Reynard through the Shard.

The bit of recovery with my level up kept me from collapsing there on the spot.

“Two hours.”

Plenty of time.

I pull my dagger out of its neck and wipe its blood off on my hoodie’s pocket before re-sheathing it. I then take its dagger — more of a short sword for someone like me. If I had a saw or something, I would use it to pull those horns off of its head...how sharp and strong were they that they were able to pull apart my scale armor? My sides still burned with the open wounds, though the blood flow had slowed to a trickle. Maybe I’ll just take the entire head and use a saw back on Earth...why not? I pull the golden rings and chains off of its pointed horns and stuff them into my pants pocket before pulling off my hoodie, and my torn scale shirt and wrapping them both into it.

The opening of my backpack is barely large enough to fit it, so after I’m done prying the shoes on its hooves off and shoving them in my pocket with the gold chain, I pick up the pole sword, and my staff, and pull myself up the banks of the gorge; the slow trickle of water dozens of feet down from me and make my way back to the door with plenty of time to spare. Just as I pulled myself up the side of the building, a body came hurtling through. There was already a small pile of them; those that I had left outside in front of the porch.

I step over them and into the blackness between worlds, a corpse flips by and passes through me. Huh. I suppose that’s how it works, not that I ever had thought of it, but an answer to an unasked question is still an answer, I suppose.

Rain pelts me as soon as I step out and reopens the scabs on my side as the dried blood begins to flow.

“Who are you, and where is the other hue-man?”

Nyt’s voice is the first thing I hear aside from the rain pelting my head and coming down around my ears.

I glance at the cat. She’s situated at the top of the porch with a bow of pure light drawn and pointed toward the fox creature. The door was situated in such a way that stepping out, I wasn’t easily visible to either of them as it opened in the direction of the large tool shed tucked in the corner of the alcove.

“I told you, he’s probably dead. The Governor of the area was strong enough to take on an army of 100.”

The rain seemed to fall around her; never touching her as steaming orbs of water held in the air around her. The door vanished, and a pile of cash was left where it stood. I picked it up and shoved it in my pants pocket. Clio; standing on the porch next to Nyt rushes over to me through the rain; her tiny tail wagging all the while. Nyt follows her with her eyes. She drops her bow. The fox thing turns its head.

“You’re alive.” It stated simply.

“Yeah.” I say, “Did Paul get back as well?”

“Paul? Ah. The other prisoner? Yeah, he’s in the big building.” The fox points a claw toward it. The orbs of boiling waterfall to the ground. “Did you run away, or?”

“No, the thing’s dead,” I say.

“Really? The creature’s amber eyes look at me skeptically. “How?”

I toss my bag down onto the ground, and the head rolls out; wrapped in the hoodie and torn scale jerkin.

“Is that…” The fox thing says as it goes to unwrap the bundle.

Just as it does, the woman from earlier steps out of the house. She glances at the two strange creatures, and then to the bundle on the ground. After that, she held her children back inside.

“Thank you for finding Paul...but my husband…” She mutters.

“I’ll find him.” I say, “Don’t worry. In the meantime do you think these two can stay with you?” I motion towards Nyt and the fox Efran.

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The woman nods.

“Good. Do you mind if I use your shed here as some kind of storage for the time being?”

The woman shakes her head. I walk over to the shed pull open the door set the pole sword down on the wooden floor near the entrance, and also empty my pockets of the golden rings and horseshoes, and empty my bag of the skull that I had forgotten I had picked up, and the short sword that had been jammed in my leg. I had leveled up both when killing the minotaur, and from closing the door so the pain, at this point, was minimal.

I pull my hoodie out of the bloody pile, and pull it on; the scale jacket was more or less shredded at this rate. When the fox person saw the black scales she picked a scrap off the muddy ground.

“Where did you get these scales?”

“From a black serpent in Efra. I don’t know what they’re called.”

“Did they have wings? And venomous fangs?”

I nod.

“The scales are very strong and durable.” I say, “So it made for good armor.”

“So you killed one? Impressive.”

“What’s impressive about it? They’re not that large.”

“Not that large...ah, then this must be from the body of a juvenile. At their full height, they’d be as large as that house.” The fox thing once more points toward the farmhouse.

I pick up Clio and sit down inside the shed. She curls up in my lap, and immediately I feel a wave of healing energy flow through me. The small aches and pains begin to fade. I feel something brush against me as Shadow comes to say hello as well. The smell of damp earth mixes with the putrid smell of gasoline.

“Really? That big?”

“Yes. They’re Roki’s Godbeast, after all.”

Godbeast, that’s a phrase I hadn’t heard in a while.

“What are godbeasts exactly?”

“They’re beasts that symbolize a certain god,” Nyt says. She lingers in the doorway while I finish up healing my wounds in the shed as the rain pelted the tin roof and grew in intensity, “They also contain powerful abilities because of this connection. For Athet; the god the Ir revere the most, it’s the Glass Eagle; as it represents freedom and migration. Its abilities are mostly wind-related.”

“What’s a, ‘Glass Eagle.’”

“Ah, they’re giant eagles, with feathers that look like green glass.”

My mind flashes to the large bird that Monica took down in the dive where we ran into the White One. I remember Monica describing the strange sticky substance that covered its body, and the bright green, almost glass-like feathers underneath.

“And for followers of Roki, it's this black serpent thing?”

The fox thing nods as it crosses its arm over its body. Its flowing robes stick close to its body due to the rain. Nyt steps into the cover of the shed.

“It makes sense. They are fierce and invasive. Their blood is foul, and their venom corrupts the mind of all it touches.”

“Corrupts the mind?”

“Certain Apostles of Roki were known to pour their venom over the bodies of Godbeasts and turn them feral.” The fox thing continues.

“What would it do to people?” I ask.

“Normal people? Kill them. Apostles? Probably the same as the Godbeasts.”

“What are you?” Nyt asks after some length; her large pale eyes glowing in the darkness as she stared at the other creature, “I’ve been all over Efra when I was in the order of Lyk, but I have never seen anything like you: do you come from the land of Giants? I had thought that Roki had conquered that land first.”

“Land of Giants? Is that what you call our land?”

Nyt nods.

“Well, I’m Fen. A Mykos, one of the last of my kind, and an apostle of Shel, the Goddess of Art and Craft; the last of my kind.”