The younglings traveled for the remainder of the day, traveling across the green hills that faded into the white sands of the desert just on the edge of their sight. Closer to the roaring river, around five miles further north, they could see stands of trees, small forests or large groupings of shrubs that doted the plains and hills.

They were vigilant for signs of creatures. The lass was able to find at least four tracks of predators and eight of prey who used the border as a guide for their travels, be they as grazing herds, or solitary creatures seeking mates further away. As well as the tracks of the orc family they had met.

The pair remained quiet for most of the time, only speaking when they noticed something, or needed a small break. But as night approached, they decided to find shelter in a patch of thick brush. Making their way through the bushes and brambles gave way to what was once in the center, a large bird’s nest. From the feathers found, the lad guessed with high confidence, it was once a Thundering Ostrich nest, that was eventually used by an axe beak family. But it had been abandoned for nearly a month.

The lass decided they would try not to destroy the nest, in case any other animals wished to use it later. Hunkering down, the lad took rations from the pack and placed them in a metal container. Removing the alchemy jug, he focused and shaped the water within to rise and form a bubble of water in which he placed the metal container.

Next, he began to channel his fire bolt spell, sprinkling the reagents into the sphere of water, and causing it to form and then collapse within the water. Dispelling the heat and preventing the fire from escaping. Quickly raising the temperature of the sphere to that of a stove and transfer that heat to the container filled with bricks of prepared meats and spices.

With a cast of mage hand, the container is opened, and water is allowed to mix with the ingredients. Swirling in the air and quickly forming a simmering broth. With occasional applications of the firebolt cantrip, the wizard would manage over around an hour to create hot soup without a fire.

While the fighter went about setting up and preparing the site for sleep and rest. Cleaning up dung, brushing clear spots for their sleeping rolls, laying out the travel utensils and bowls. Until her brother told her supper was ready, just as the sun disappeared on the horizon.

Soon, the two would be sitting together, sipping soup and nibbling on travel bread as they watched the sky turn from red to blue. From one sun turn to millions of stars above. They did not talk during this time. Only look up and at each other, gesturing when the lass wanted more, or to cast another spell to heat the food.

Until the lad eventually broke the silence once all the soup had been eaten, and he could stop concentrating on keeping it from failing.

“Mel... Do you wonder why the moon rises each day?” The gnome spoke a name that he was not supposed to use. He and his sister gave up the names they had before joining the clan, but he had always thought the concept of not having a name difficult to talk through. As sometimes, you require a name.

“Madra gave it existence and it does what it is supposed to do.” She shrugged, turning to hide a flush at the use of her name. Thoughts and memories of breaking the rules a child filled her mind, stealing some cups of wine, cookies, or sweeties, and hiding to share them with her friends. “Or I guess whatever the gods of the moon are supposed to do?”

“Well, yes, but that is why it moves, not how.” With a beckoning wave towards the water from the jug, more water rose up to form spheres. “Like, is a law of force and magic keeping it spinning around the plane? Is it something the planet does? Is it just the wills of the gods that keep them in place, or if they all were to disappear, would they continue to function as they are now?”

The gnome’s voice grew more fervent and excited about the possibilities. His sister could see the smile on his face as he began to ramble, moving the spheres of water around in theories about how the sun and moon moved. About the question of the size of the plane, the Isles of Gods itself. How it is so large, no group has circumnavigated it.

She watched his lips move, his smile shift from expressive rambling on a grand astronomic problem of arcane forces and rules, to one of simple appreciation at the stars far above. She listened to him just speak, to ramble about anything simply because she enjoyed listening to him.

He had rambled to her in the darkness of night, in the dampness of a slaver’s vessel, and the closeness of those destined for expensive living hells as slaves. The usually shy or bookish gnome did not like to be the center of attention like their bardic brother. But he still loved to talk. To tell stories. To ask questions that allowed him to ramble on and on and on for minutes and hours at a time.

His eyes would crinkle when he said a joke that made him laugh. He would never keep eye contact while rambling, so he would often forget he had an audience and ask questions, make statements, or even accusations that would have any nearby laughing in hysterics. But she made sure not to interrupt him with her laughter when he accidently said with his foreign common, a foreign saying about a god’s role as caretaker of the moon that sounded to the halfling like he was saying Madra was mooning the world from the heavens. Because, technically she was, but he didn’t know the slang of mooning on the isle.

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That was until the shadows of the briars shifted ever so slightly. And the halfling threw herself at her brother, knocking him to the earth as a shadowy beast flew through the air and tried to rip his throat out.

The creature landed and spun around in the darkness. Its body was that of a large hound that was shoulder height on most human men. But instead of a snout, it had the face of a man, with red, glowing eyes. Its body and fur were an ash grey and gave off the smell of smoke and an old cookfire. But its expression was one of sadism and hunger.

“Madra’s Modesty, a Yeth hound?!” The wizard exclaimed as it slid to a stop. He stood up then and immediately began casting as his sister moved like a blur.

The fighter had no idea what the creature was, but didn’t care. She grabbed her wooden great sword and shield from her pack, speaking the command for her second shield and her sword.

“Glora’s Blade. Glora’s shield!”

In a subtle shimmer, the wood of the training sword shifted into the darkness of steel. While from her arm, glowed a series of patterns that burned the sleeve of her travel clothes and tore them as a shield gauntlet expanded from an intricate tattoo that wound around her arm.

Armed with two shields and her sword, as she stands, the hand of her brother touches her, speaking a few words she didn’t understand as a sensation of bravery and inner strength pumped through her.

Charging quickly, the halfling throws herself against the massive hound. Not expecting the force or mode of attack, the fey creature is thrown to the floor. Before the beast could stop bouncing across the earth, the tiny fiend had slammed down its great sword into the flank of the beast, dragging a howl from it as orange blood poured from its wound.

The wizard reached behind themselves, into their own shadow, and “pulled” it up around themselves while whispering in a language that some gods would have him executed for using. An armor of shadow enveloped him as he braced himself for what he knew Yeth Hounds were most known for.

A sound like that of a goat baying echoed out from the mouth of the beast as it stood up. Panic, fear, and desperation washed over the gnome as it stood fifteen feet from the creature. But seeing his sister standing and taking the beast’s baying head on, he managed to retain his senses and push through it.

While the halfling felt nothing from the baying but annoyance. It had interrupted her time with her brother. He was making her cry with withheld laughter, but this beast had ruined the moment. And she would not stand for it.

With a leap that brought her shield up to connect with the head of the beast, she threw it to the ground again with a growl. Bringing her sword down on it again.

It screamed and bayed in agony as it tried to pull away and get back to its feet. The sound of deafening bells rattled its ears, but it managed to weather it to stand yet again and pathetically bite at the halfling. She didn’t even dodge, she met the beast head on with another bash of her shield, shoving it back and blocking its attack.

Again, the larger beast is thrown to the ground, and immediately met with an attack that dug into its shoulder, and one that felt like a sliver of wood was being driven through its skull.

Barley able to return to its feet, it kept fighting, delirious from the physical trauma. And accomplished nothing as it was knocked down to its side again. The tiny fiend was not having any mercy on the creature.

“Stay, down, mutt!” She growled while slamming her sword into its neck, digging in deep, but the creature was still alive.

With a mumbled prayer to Madra, the wizard raised his cupped hands to his mouth and breathed out, casting a spray of gas that engulfed the head of the delirious fey. It choked on the poisoned air and screeched as it stood and tried to run.

Taking a stab at the fleeing beast, as it limped into the brush, trying to push through, the halfling grabbed and tried to pull it to the floor. But the beast was too panicky and managed to remain on its feet, only to be stab it through the paw and halting its movements as a skeletal hand flies past her head and crashes into the skull of the beast, literally wrenching from it the last vestiges of its life.

With panting, the two siblings look between each other, and realize, neither of them are injured, and break out into proud, wide grins.

“I say we earned at least one drink, huh?” The halfling proclaimed while her brother sighed and lifted another ball of water into the air.

“Fine, but I am just going to try yours. I am not going to gamble on getting another weird flavor again.” The gnome grumbled as he opened the pack and removed a single glass bottle.

He placed it in the sphere of water and it began to slowly spin, and slowly grow colder. Chilling the drink right there for her.

Walking over to her pack, she pulled free a cloth to clean the blade before changing it back to a wooden sword. Once the bottle was good and cold, she reached in with her gauntleted hand and plucked it out of the ball of semi-ice.

Placing her thumb to the cap, she popped it open and it popped off with a loud hiss. The liquid inside the bottle began to fizz and change colors, shifting into a blue berry colored swirl in the brown of a cola. Taking a sniff, the halfling grinned.

“Blueberry cola, mmm, this will be good.” She passed the bottle to her brother. Where he took a small sniff.

He took his finger and dragged it up the side where a drop had fizzed up and slid down and placed it to his tongue. His eyebrows were squinted as he decided on if he liked the taste or not. And then brought the bottle to his lips, taking a small swallow. Pausing, and a larger one.

“Hey! You said you only wanted a little bit!” She let him pull the drink from his lips so as not to spill the delicious contents and brought it up to her mouth where she paused.

Her eyes took in the small, thin gnome as he had a smile of pleasure and satisfaction on his face from the taste. She felt her cheeks redden before she kissed the bottle’s opening and took a long drag.