Maline stirred in her sleep, the warmth of the bedroll cocooning her in a comfortable hold. She was aware of the surrounding sensation of softness and comfort, and found it particularly warm.

She buried herself deeper into the bedroll, appreciating the newfound warmth, believing it to be the sole reason for her comfort. However, as consciousness began to creep in, she found that something was amiss.

The heat beneath her felt unusual, not quite what she expected.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, squinting against the gentle glow that spilled through the gaps in the wooden logs that made up the shack.

She began to feel a multitude of taps on her shoulder as she looked over to her right; it was Beda. It seemed she hadn’t awoken of her own volition.

“You awake?” He said, alternating hands as he jabbed his pointer fingers at her shoulder with an unassuming expression as he crouched in a huddled manner next to her.

Maline had been staring directly into his eyes for a while now, and the pokes had not stopped.

Instead of being annoyed, a thought began to poke at her mind as well. Waking up like this, with this warmth. Awoken from a dream.

A dream. What was her dream about? Did she dream this time?

Where did this feeling of familiarity come from?

Beda’s pokes kept their pace, continuously interrupting her train of thought.

“Uhm… I’m awake.” Maline tilted her body slightly to the side as she woke up, evading his pokes. It felt like playful banter rather than an affront, and she was in no mind to have an outburst.

Beda, satisfied with her response, got up from his position and walked over to the hearth. He returned with a piece of mutton, leftovers from the previous night's meal, and offered it to Maline on the end of a pointy utensil.

Lee was fast asleep on the opposite side of the room, and Beda, reasonably, did not try to wake him up.

Though not particularly hungry, Maline took the offered piece of meat and ate it with a voracity that surprised her. The lingering exhaustion from her ordeal seemed to have dulled her appetite. As she finished, a question played in her mind.

"Is it usually this bright at this hour?" Maline gestured toward the gentle glow that bathed the shack.

Beda walked back toward the hearth to begin tidying up. He chuckled, the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that she had seen the day before, responding as if it were obvious, “Of course–why wouldn’t it be?” He resumed his seat at the center table, no longer sparing her a glance.

Maline found his answer somewhat vague, but she didn't press the matter further. In this time, Maline had grown more conscious of her surroundings.

The light peeking in through the wood was of a gentle shade and she felt no hint of chill.

"A change in season? In this region?" she mumbled to herself, confused by the warmth that surrounded her. A slight smirk framed Beda’s face in response to her unconscious rhyme.

From their interactions, she found Beda strange, so she took what he said with a grain of salt.

Looking back at Beda, she decided to ask him a question. "What's the current month?" she queried, uncertainty in her voice. She could only form a vague answer in her mind.

Beda's expression shifted, a hint of suspicion creeping into his features. He turned his gaze toward Maline, studying her intently, before diverting his attention momentarily to Lee, who slept unbothered. His growing suspicion began to sour his expression.

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"The month..." Beda mused to himself.

He briefly dropped his peculiar performance, if that was what it was, and addressed Maline seriously.

“You don’t know the month?” he inquired, curiosity lacing his voice.

Maline couldn't quite grasp a clear answer, the already unclear fragments of her memories fading away like smoke.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, a tinge of frustration coloring her words, unable to conjure up a correct configuration. "I just... I don't know."

Beda fell silent, his gaze shifting between Maline and the still-sleeping Lee. He weighed his words carefully before responding.

“It is Gale. The… 17th,” he disclosed, pausing his response there. He was ascertaining whether or not Maline could figure out the rest on her own.

After a long while of thinking, Maline finally came up with an answer. “Unidei?”

The answer was instinctual, a subconscious response guided by a sliver of connection to a past she couldn't quite grasp. Akin to scrutinizing a desert stone in search of water, she could find nothing.

Beda watched as she began to get nauseous, lying back down onto her bedroll. He hadn’t expected anything like this.

He sat there in silence, his mind working through the fragments of information he had gathered from Maline. Along with his earlier speculation, the puzzle pieces began to form a faint image, a familiar visage.

Strangely, he focused his gaze on Lee once more. The silence of the shack seemed to blend with his intent, and after a moment, he retracted his gaze and rested his head on his hand, looking down toward the table.

There, he had placed a whip.

The whip was a work of art, crafted from polished silver with deep black separations that sectioned the metal into cylindrical segments.

The body of the whip was etched with flowery designs, completely adverse to its purpose.

Its tapered tip hinted at its potential for precision, while a rounded silver end on its underside, adorned with a luxurious red cloth, offered an alternate purpose for bludgeoning if necessary.

Spotless and gleaming, the curled whip exuded a strange allure. His hands hid his expression as he called out to Maline.

“Young lady,” he said, “Come sit with me, I have something for you.”

Apprehensive, Maline uncovered herself and got up from her bedroll, feeling the peculiar heat on her soles.

“What is it?” she asked as she began walking toward the table.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it? Are you one to ruin a good surprise?” Beda asked as he turned his head toward her. His words once again took on that strange cadence, causing Maline a bit of unease.

Nonplussed, the young lady took a seat on the opposite side of the table, looking at the item on top of it.

Casually presenting the whip to Maline, Beda reassured her, "Don't worry, I washed it." His expression was one of satisfaction, as if he had accomplished something tremendous.

Maline was nonetheless surprised at the item’s opulence, but was slightly confused.

“Washed? Was it used?" she questioned, her voice betraying a hint of curiosity. She wasn’t sure of its purpose, as its structure and decorations seemed to be in juxtaposition.

She was equally unsure on whether she should thank him; she had no recollection of this item, nor was she very keen on owning it.

Seeing as her reaction hadn’t matched his expectations, Beda thought for a moment before realizing his misstep. Even if the item were hers, would she be able to remember?

His smile weakened as he clarified, adverse to his original response, "Well, it's clean now. No need to dwell on its past."

In response to the word “past,” Maline experienced another bout of faux-recollection. This time, her fading memories bore a dreary, red hue. As this was beginning to become quite the common occurrence, she willingly disregarded it.

Accepting the whip doubtfully, she looked up at Beda and inquired, "Why are you giving this to me?"

Beda's response veered off of his original course, as his eyes wandered, finding a different point. "You'll need it," he replied.

Before Maline could further press for an explanation, Beda quickly changed the topic, his attention now focused on Lee. "Could you wake Lee up for me?" he asked.

Unsure as to why he couldn’t do it himself, she complied. Although their conversations had been calm thus far, what she had experienced at their hands was far from optimal. She felt that obeying would keep her relatively safe.

As she took her first step toward his bedroll, Lee's eyes opened, and he sat up before she could begin to rouse him.

Startled, Maline backed off and stood near the door. ‘He’s easily woken, isn’t he?’ she thought.

Lee's gaze met Beda's, his expression a mix of annoyance and impatience. He seemed unphased by Maline's presence as he addressed Beda with a complaint.

“What’s with all of these shenanigans? We’re already late.” He said as he threw his blanket off of himself and rose, walking to the door.

“We’re not the lousy sleepers around here, are we? Wake up earlier next time and maybe we could get going earlier.” Beda quipped as he walked toward the door in tandem, observing as Maline fearfully got out of the way, gripping the whip a bit tighter.

He gave her a strange look, motioning his hand downward twice in a bid to calm her down.

“Go on, grumbles. Maybe the light’ll lift your spirits…” Beda stood next to Maline in keen anticipation, watching as Lee’s “spirits” plummeted in response to his comment.

He kicked the door open forcefully. As he’d already shattered the lock, it opened easily.

A harsh light beamed in through the door, reflecting off of Maline’s whip and interrupting her efforts to shield herself from the impending cold.

Opening her eyes, she saw no tundra in sight. The ground was rocky and uneven, almost volcanic. Dark in color, it absorbed the light shining down from the sun above.

She could see drops of water melting off of the roof, falling onto the ground where they sizzled out immediately.

Looking down over the hill that the shack rested upon, a peculiar feeling of comfortable unease welled up within her. Her surroundings had changed once more.