I dismounted, feeling the solid earth beneath my feet. The stark contrast between this serene hill and the hellscape we'd left behind was almost jarring.

"Lotte," I began, my voice trembling slightly. "What on earth just happened back there?"

She coiled her massive body around me, her serpentine head resting on the ground as she settled. Her voice echoed in my mind with a hint of amusement. "Oh, nothing much, just showed a little intruder its place."

"I know what you did. But," I said, struggling for words, "What did you mean by 'took the bait' earlier?"

"Exactly what I said. NetherBeasts are terribly greedy creatures. There was a chance it might try to exploit the loophole in the contract to get here. And it did, the cheeky blighter."

Wait. Wait. This was all happening too fast.

"What do you mean there was a 'loophole' in the contract?"

Not that I understood anything about the contract I signed. I had just recited that strange tongue Lotte had taught me. It was meant to be a protection for a month, just that. The rest was Lotte's doing, whatever she did, whatever loophole she left.

"Don't worry about it, there was nothing in that loophole that would have harmed you," Lotte reassured me.

"Okay, Lotte, just be honest with me—why was it needed? Did you actually want that thing here?"

"Half yes and half no," she admitted. "It was for two reasons. First, I wanted to see if something external could interfere with this dream of ours. Second, I wanted to make sure I showed this rat from the Nether its place so that it doesn't get any funny ideas."

I knew she liked to experiment. "BUT ONCE AGAIN, A HEADS UP WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE!"

I turned and stomped twice angrily in place. It's just, I knew it wouldn't have helped at all and would have made me even more nervous attempting it, which in turn would have made me more likely to fumble. If anyone knew that much about me, it was Lotte. But still, I was angry! And I needed to show it somehow. Immature? Probably.

But wait.

"What happened to this… Nether Rat?" It was strange how I didn't even know the name of the entity I had summoned.

"It's right behind you."

Eeep! I turned around, expecting a massive silhouette like I had seen earlier. What greeted me was... nothing.

"Umm? Where?" I inquired, somewhat perplexed.

"A smidge lower," Lotte replied.

Following her direction, I peered beneath the bush, only to spot a skeletal serpent about the size of a worm. I bent down and picked it up. It trembled but didn't resist.

Casting a quizzical glance at Lotte, I asked, "This little fellow is going to protect me for a month?"

"It appears like that because of a tiny... adjustment I made," Lotte said nonchalantly. "Don't fret, he'll revert to his usual size once he's back in reality."

Well, that was somewhat reassuring. I gazed once more at the trembling little skeleton, curled up in my hands and doing its utmost to avoid Lotte's gaze. What on earth had she done to it? I was completely oblivious, yet I could swear the entire transformation lasted less than a minute.

"What was this creature called again? A Nether...Rat?" I vaguely recalled Lotte mentioning its name but couldn't quite remember.

"It's a NetherBeast, Jade. But sure, you can name it Rat. It needed a name anyway."

I wasn't entirely convinced that calling my protector a derogatory name was the best idea. A different name, something more fitting, was in order.

"I shall call it Barn," I declared, looking down at the little skeletal snake. "What do you think? We're going to be together for a month, so let's show each other some respect, shall we?"

Lotte's singsong laugh echoed in my mind as the skeletal snake glanced up at me, pausing before giving a nod. Barn it was.

I looked up at Lotte, knowing that whatever she did was with my best interests at heart. My anger was misplaced here, and I still had questions.

"How powerful is it?" I asked, wanting to gauge how much I could rely on its protection come morning.

Lotte blinked her massive slitted eyes. "Umm, according to the coloured core system you lot are using, consider him at a high gold stage."

My mind went blank for a moment, and my hands started trembling. "A h-high gold?"

I glanced down at the trembling little skeleton. What in the world did she mean this thing was high gold?

"Are you sure, Lotte?"

"NetherBeasts don't use the mana core system like humans do," she replied. "But yes, if I were to compare, the one you're holding could easily go toe to toe with a Golden core mage."

I took a deep breath. The colour of a mage's or warrior's core determined their power. It all started at black, the very base stage, where many mages at my school currently lingered. Except me, of course. I had no mana, and thus had formed no core.

A step above that was the grey core, signifying better control over mana and slight enhancements in strength and abilities. Most students would reach this stage by the time they graduated.

Next was the yellow core, marking a significant leap in power with a more solidified core, enabling advanced techniques and spells. Many started adventuring or became mercenaries at this stage, while others joined renowned towers to further their journey.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Real power began at the red core. It often took nearly a decade to achieve. People in positions of absolute authority and respect, capable of razing entire cities, were usually at this level.

Then, there was gold. Considered the pinnacle of power, I could literally count the individuals who had achieved a gold core on my fingers! The head of Grey Mage Tower, the captain of the Golden Cavalry under the emperor, the Royal Mage, and the two current heads of the only adventuring guild in the empire.

Never in my wildest dreams did I envision that this quivering skeletal serpent in my grasp could challenge the apex of power within the empire. Part of me mused: I summoned it. Me, a veritable nobody utterly incapable of embarking on the path of power.

Yet another part of me pondered just how formidable Lotte must be to leave something at Gold Rank quaking in terror.

I stifled these trains of thought. There were more pressing matters at hand. Now that I knew I was quite literally sauntering about with a Gold Rank calamity, my fear only intensified. And let's not forget, I was nearly nodding off in the middle of a forest, where people might arrive at any moment if the ritual had been detected.

Lotte, understanding the gravity of the situation, left me with a final piece of advice.

"I've read the threads again. They've diverged, no longer ending in black. But one of them leads to a place far away. You may not be able to return, so bid your farewells."

I hadn't the foggiest what she meant. Did Lotte even know? Her readings were always on the verge of cryptic. I was fine with that, but did I truly need to say farewell to my father? She mentioned that the golden thread would lead me somewhere far away, a place of no return.

I wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

"And don't fret about… Barn anymore." I knew she still wanted to call it a rat, but since I was treating it with respect, she followed suit. I was pleased with that. But wait, what was there to worry about him?

I lobbed the question in her direction.

"You mentioned you were feeling awfully knackered, extraordinarily so."

"Yeah, I figured Barn did that deliberately, like you said earlier, 'took the bait.'"

"Indeed, but the truth was a smidge different. What Barn did was follow its instincts. Why do you suppose it's able to form a contract with you, given you've got no magic yourself?"

I furrowed my brow. Now that Lotte had divulged that Barn's power level was on par with an average gold-rank mage, the fact that I was bound to him by a protection contract was, frankly, a bit daunting.

"What's that got to do with me feeling so knackered?" Lotte wasn't one to go off on tangents, so I got straight to the point.

"In layman's terms, whenever summoning occurs, entities from the Nether use mana from their summoners not just to appear in our reality but to remain here as well. They don't use mana themselves; they run on chaos. I managed the first step by tweaking the ritual's mechanism, but the second issue remained unsolved."

"Which was for Barn to stay in reality, it would need to feed on my mana, of which I have none."

"So, it instinctively fed on your life force."

I almost sussed it out myself, a truly frightful notion, that. The life force required to sustain a gold rank beastie—I'd have been a goner if not for dear Lotte.

"So, it won't be siphoning my life force again?" I inquired, a touch of trepidation in my voice.

"No, no," she assured, "I've had it adjust your contract a tad, removed the little loophole I slipped in. It should now sustain itself on the vast reserves of chaos it's amassed. It'll be a bit weaker, mind, but it should suffice."

A slightly feeble gold rank was still a gold rank. They said a gold rank mage, even out of mana, was just as terrifying as one fully charged. Their very existence was perilous.

"I really ought to skedaddle before dawn breaks," I murmured, a hint of urgency creeping in.

Lotte's massive serpentine visage remained impassive, but her voice in my mind was tinged with concern.

"Whatever happens, be brave, Jade."

Ha! With the protection of a gold rank, I was quite possibly the safest soul in the entire empire.

"I will," I replied with a nod.

I bade Lotte farewell and resolved to awaken. It was a rather simple affair, really. Just letting myself dissolve into the dreamscape. One moment I was there, disassociating, and the next, my eyes fluttered open in the forest.

The moment I woke up, I felt positively rejuvenated. None of the fatigue from my earlier lingered. A sharp pain shot through my wrist, making me wince. I glanced down at the runic tattoo there—it was shifting. Some symbols vanished, replaced by new ones burning into place.

I took a deep breath, stood up, and sprinted towards the old mill. Luckily, I was close enough, and the area was blissfully devoid of other humans.

I soon reached home, carefully nudging the front door open. Its familiar creak made me mutter a curse under my breath, but the silence from within assured me that Father was still asleep. I tiptoed to his room, gingerly placing the crossbow back in its spot.

Dodging that one treacherous broken stair, I made my way back to my room. Only then did I feel a semblance of safety.

It was nearly 4 in the morning. Sleep, however, eluded me as I lay there, awaiting the dreaded dawn.