I woke up this morning and immediately had the strangest craving. Bread. Not just any bread, but warm, soft, perfect bread. No idea why—there’s no bread to be had here—but I swear, I’d kill a dragon for even the smell of it.

I shook the thought away and stretched, letting my joints crack before stepping out of the dim warmth of the cave. The morning air was crisp, carrying a faint breeze that rustled the treetops. Down near the communal fire, my mother was working with the other women, laughing and chatting as they pounded grains and prepared dried meats.

Her place among them had shifted. Ever since she shared the honey, her status had lifted. She wasn’t just another face in the tribe anymore—she was one of them, respected, even envied. “Huh,” I muttered under my breath. “If money can buy love, honey seems to have done the trick.”

That was good news for both of us. It meant she was safer now, shielded from whispers and sideways glances. And for me? It gave me time—time to work, plan, and strengthen myself without constantly worrying about what might happen to her when my back was turned.

So, what should I do today? My eyes wandered to the forest beyond the cave, the morning light dappling the ground in patches. Ah, yes. I needed more gold. Yesterday’s close encounter with the Fae was still fresh in my mind.

I thought back to the way my spell had burned the thing, forcing it to retreat. They weren’t rationed foes—they were like psychotic wolves, circling and testing. If they didn’t draw blood, they’d come back stronger, bolder. But I’d proven we had teeth. That had to count for something.

My schedule for today? Simple: get more gold, kill something edible, and avoid becoming the latest Fae curse victim. Solid plan.

As I stood there for moment thinking drinking water from water-skin and making sure I didn't forget anything, a voice interrupted me.

“Good morning, Anir.”

Oh, great. It’s Monire. The guy has all the loyalty of a rat sniffing out a free meal. Still, no need to let him know I see through him. “Morning, Monire,” I replied evenly, tightening my grip on the water-skin to keep my hands busy—and away from my knife.

“Did you hear about Lilona? A shadow attacked her last night.”

My stomach did a slow flip. I kept my expression calm, but my mind snapped to attention. “Really? A shadow? Lilona’s home is near the back of the cave. That’s supposed to be one of the safest spots.”

“That’s what she’s saying.” He leaned in conspiratorially, as if sharing a great secret. “But her mom spanked her for lying about it.”

I arched a brow. “Why would she lie about something like that?”

“She wet the fur in her sleep. Or…” He smirked, clearly enjoying the gossip, “she was too scared to make it to the pissing holes.”

Internally, I rolled my eyes. Too scared or too smart, Monire? The shadows aren’t just bedtime stories. If Lilona felt something, even if no one else believes her, I need to pay attention.

“So,” he continued, his voice taking on a casual, almost wheedling tone, “are you hunting more rabbits today? Maybe I could come with you?”

And there it is. Always angling, always sniffing around for an advantage. “Not this time,” I said, keeping my tone light and dismissive. “I prefer going alone. Helps me practice moving quietly, avoiding making noise is an important skill I need.”

His grin faltered for a second before bouncing back like a rubber ball. “Well, don’t go pushing too deep into the forest, huh? You know how dangerous it gets.”

“I know,” I replied with a polite nod, my voice calm. I know more than you ever will.

Finally, he wandered off, probably to latch onto someone else’s success like a leech. As I watched him go, I couldn’t help but smirk. Good riddance, Monire. You’re predictable, and predictability is useful. Maybe one day I’ll find a purpose for you. Until then, enjoy being a bottom feeder.

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Before starting my work, I retreated to the privacy of the cave, in my home, where no prying eyes could catch a glimpse of the spell I was about to use. Though most of my spells were silent, this one caused a brief flicker of light in my aura upon casting—a momentary beacon that could draw attention. Once activated, the spell would fade, cloaking itself entirely, allowing me to move safely, undetected.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the flow of mana within me, and began weaving a passive monitoring spell into my aura anchored to a small gold nugget. Threads of magic extended outward, like invisible tendrils brushing against the air, seeking the faintest ripple of danger. As the spell took hold, my senses sharpened, every sound and vibration filtering through the spell’s delicate web.

As I excited the cave.

The world felt alive, hyper-aware. The subtle sway of leaves, the distant rustle of animals, even the faint hum of the cave walls—all of it whispered to me. It wasn’t sight or sound exactly, more like a pulse of awareness, a silent alarm ready to flare at the slightest threat.

The spell settled over me like a second skin, faint but present, a low hum of vigilance coursing through my body. For the first time in days, I felt... prepared.

Then created protective spell against the Fae anchored into one of the iron nuggets I gathered last night.

I took my backpack an went on gold hunt.

I shaped the protective spell carefully, weaving my aura around the iron nugget until it hummed faintly with potential energy. The sigils etched into my mind guided each thread of mana, forming layers of defensive enchantments. This wasn’t just any protective spell—it was tailored against the Fae’s tricks, their illusions, and their invasive magic. Anchored to the iron nugget, it would create a localized barrier, disrupting their ability to influence the area around me.

Once the spell was complete, I held the nugget in my hand, feeling its subtle pulse, a quiet promise of safety. Not invulnerability, of course—nothing could grant that against beings as unpredictable as the Fae—but it was better than facing them unarmed.

Satisfied, I tucked it into my belt pouch and grabbed my backpack. The iron would be useful, but gold was the real prize. If I wanted to cast stronger spells or stabilize more complex enchantments, I needed a stockpile. Gold’s properties made it invaluable—conducting mana smoothly, enhancing spell precision, and, most importantly, grounding my aura when casting larger, riskier spells.

The river awaited, and I knew its bed still hid treasures I hadn’t unearthed.

As I stepped out of the cave, the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and pine. The morning light painted the forest in muted greens and browns, but even in this calm, I couldn’t shake the unease lingering from the previous night. The Fae were watching—I could feel it like a shadow at the edge of my senses.

Still, I pressed on. The hunt for gold wasn’t just about survival—it was preparation for the battles I knew were coming. And in this world, preparation was everything.

The river was quieter today, the sunlight glinting off the surface like shards of glass. I made my way further upstream this time, past the spot where I’d found gold before. I’d learned my lesson from last time—walking this path unprepared was an invitation for my heart to betray me again. This time, I came equipped.

In my hand, I held a small nugget of gold, smooth and warm from the aura I’d woven around it. The nugget would serve as an anchor for my spell, stabilizing the process and making the search far less taxing.

I crouched by the riverbank, feeling the earth beneath me, letting my aura ripple outward like roots seeking sustenance. My mind focused, sharpening into the spell I’d crafted. With a deliberate push, I fed the spell into the nugget, letting its resonance reach out to the silt and stones of the riverbed.

The response was immediate. A faint tug, a vibration through the earth, as if the very stones were whispering secrets to me. My pulse quickened as I followed the sensation, stepping carefully along the edge of the water.

Then, I saw it.

Buried just beneath the surface, glinting faintly in the dappled sunlight, was something massive. My breath caught as I crouched down, brushing away the wet silt with trembling hands.

The nugget was huge—larger than I’d ever imagined possible. It was roughly the size of my chest, a behemoth of gold that seemed almost unreal in its brilliance.

“The Motherlode,” I whispered, a grin spreading across my face.

I pressed my hands against it, feeling the faint hum of mana still clinging to its surface. My aura pulsed in response, like a predator recognizing its prize. This wasn’t just gold. This was power.

But excitement faded quickly as caution crept in. My paranoia was having one of its unreasonable erections. This is too easy, I thought, my grip tightening on the nugget. Nothing this big, this valuable, is left untouched.

Most beast's like gold they eat it they grow stronger from it like me. So why is it untouched, no that's not it, oh the idea that triggered my paranoia is if I found it something else could now that it has been exposed.

I need to hid it.