“How many did you end up dealing with?” Trat’catha walked in the middle of the procession, shoulder to shoulder with Anar’dea.

“Only one more. But I’m glad to be on the move again; don’t get me wrong, I loved the time to just unwind a little, it’s just…” Anar’dea trailed off thoughtfully. “It felt like we were tempting danger, especially now that we know there have been more elves in the area. You know?”

“Yes, I feel we can expect to run into more trouble. We’re still at least a week away from Anosora, and that is if conditions are perfect.” He looked around at the forest surrounding him: after hiking for several hours, the already sparse trees were thinning further and they were now also going up a very gradual slope. The gaur seemed to be keeping up pace well and even the guliks could be spotted from time to time.

Despite their fears, however, their journey remained free from apex for the day. That night they brought themselves to the base of a rocky hill, nestled in between multiple boulders. For all of their wounds the day before, the group made incredible progress. The gaur took to building a small leaning tent against one of the boulders to assist in blocking out the cold, but refrained from building a fire. Thu’lain volunteered for the first watch and Raj’ken elected to come along.

They patrolled the area around the camp, but unlike the night before they stayed close by for assistance if it was needed.

“What do you think about the gaur and Il’tan?” Raj’ken probed as she walked, keeping her bow in her hands and ready in case they spotted anything that needed to be dealt with.

“They’re fine.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too. Pretty glad about it actually. It’s nice having someone around younger than I am. Like, sometimes I wonder what kinds of things you’ve been through, and I realize that I’m still so much younger than you are.” Raj’ken played with her bowstring, but her eyes never stopped scanning their environment.

“Il’tan is much younger than you.”

“Yeah! I’m glad you understand. Like even though we are completely different ages I feel kind of connected to her. Almost like a big sister.” Raj’ken happily prattled on and Thu’lain nodded.

“And Anar’dea?”

“Oh, yeah she’s basically the big sister I wished I had. But it’s hard to talk to her about anything sisterly. She’s got a couple hang-ups with it that she hasn’t wanted to dig into much.” Raj’ken shrugged.

“I see. Will you take Il’tan under your wing?”

“I mean, kinda? Yeah. But I can’t replace her mom. Do you think she got caught by that apex?” Raj’ken spoke softly, in case Il’tan was close enough to hear them.

“Not sure. Something’s bothering me, though.”

“Oh yeah? What’s up?” Raj’ken queried.

“We’ve only found small apex.”

Raj’ken mulled the thought over, before pointing into the darkness far off. “Like that one.”

She drew her bowstring back and, as Thu’lain slipped into the darkness, she shot the plated crab-like apex through one of its stalk-eyes, causing a growl to be heard even from camp.

“It’s fine! We’re fine!” Raj’ken called to the camp as Thu’lain emerged from the darkness, seemingly underneath the thrashing crab beast. He started making quick work of the creature while avoiding its sharp-edged plates.

“Yeah, Thu’s got it handled.” Raj’ken called out, but shot another arrow through an eye-stalk for good measure.

Minutes later, they were walking around the camp again, dead apex laying off in the darkness.

“Like that one, yes.”

“Are you complaining about it or what?” Raj’ken stretched her arms over her head.

“With so many in the area it just seems unlikely that none are of the larger variety. It doesn’t add up.”

“Maybe Uchy had something to do with it?” Raj’ken asked.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“How do you think?”

“Well, it was obviously rushing through the area, and we still aren’t that far from its path, you know? Maybe some of the larger apex are smart enough to avoid its scent. The smaller ones may be able to hide from it better, though. Just a thought. Or it ate them. But I don’t think they’d have just gotten in a straight line for it.” Raj’ken theorized with Thu’lain as they patrolled.

Thu’lain nodded and became increasingly contemplative over their patrol. Eventually Raj’ken settled into comfortable silence until Tu’lar and Anar’dea took over watch.

Thu’lain looked over the camp and approached Tin’lo.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine. The hole sealed shut last night. It was still tender this morning, but doing well now. This though.” He gestured to his no-longer-missing hand. “This is sensitive to everything. I want to cover it up but its not even big enough for that yet.”

Tin’lo waved what looked like a miniature hand around, and when he tried to wiggle his fingers they seemed to flap wildly back and forth.

“They also don’t have the proper anchor points for tendons or anything, so it’s just kind of there. Being annoying,” Tin’lo grumbled. Hal and Hret sat nearby murmuring to one another, but it was Hesa who looked the most interested.

“El’tan told us that elves healed differently, but I didn’t think that meant you could get your hand back. It’s...strange to see,” Hesa spoke up tentatively, uncertain how her reaction would be taken.

“Yeah, it would have been worse if I’d lost my arm at the shoulder. You saw my wound last night? Gone, poof. But as you get away from the core of the body the regeneration takes longer. That and joints seem to add an absurd wait-time for full healing,” Tin’lo both explained and complained, before thinking on the topic longer.

“I’m sorry, here I am complaining about being able to regenerate limbs and you’re over there being…” Tin’lo struggled for the word, with obvious discomfort on his face.

“Mortal.”

Tin’lo shot a pointed glance at Thu’lain. Hesa did not miss the implications, and decided to step in.

“It is fine, we are who we are.” Hesa smiled. “I take no offense, but is that considered rude for elves?”

Tin’lo and Thu’lain shared a glance once again, and after a moment it was Tin’lo who spoke up.

“Not exactly. It isn’t quite rude, but in Anosora’s courts we decided that pointing out that other races would, well, die of age while we keep on living was not conducive to positive relationships on equal footing.” Tin’lo explained. “I guess I still follow those beliefs.”

“It is something that has put me at odds with others on occasion. I mean no offense, as I see no shame in being mortal.”

“That is an interesting difference in the way you both see the same subject. Does that mean that you, Thu’lain, are not from the court of Anosora?” Hesa asked, growing more interested in their discourse as they spoke.

“I hold a position. I had my own interests outside of Anosora to manage.”

“Most of the elves I have met over the years speak as though there was only Anosora for them.” Hesa explained. “If I am not prying, what did you have if not that?” As she spoke, Tin’lo carefully watched Thu’lain’s expression, and the nearly unnoticeable tension that built in his muscles.

“My kingdom.”

Thu’lain turned and found a seat nearby while Tin’lo stared at Thu’lain as the cogs in his brain turned over again.

“Say what now?” Tin’lo asked, confusion rising.

“I thought you knew?”

“How would I know you had a kingdom? Where even was it?” Tin’lo pinched his temple with his good hand.

“Erebus. It was why I wasn’t in Anosora when it fell.”

“How did you even have a kingdom? There were laws to keep elves from doing just that. Too risky to be seen as oppressors.” Tin’lo narrowed his gaze.

“My kingdom predates those laws. Trat’catha could tell you.”

“How old are you?” Tin’lo exasperatedly huffed.

Thu’lain smiled as he pulled food from his pack. It became clear that he had withdrawn from more questions for the time being.

“What about you - Hesa, right? What’s your story?” Tin’lo calmed down and decided to distract himself with chat.

“Hmm, I grew up in these lands. My family had a very nomadic approach to settling down. My father and I stumbled onto Hal, my husband, standing over my prey-” Hesa was cut off.

“It was definitely my arrow that killed it!” Hal called out from the sidelines, smiling as he did. Hesa rolled her eyes.

“Yes, his arrow killed it. But the other three in it were mine, and we were tracking it down. We ended up splitting the kill in return for a place to stay for the night. And, well, one night became two, and two became a week. Then an unusual snowstorm came along out of season and snowed us all in a cave. The rest is history.” She smiled and looked at Hal lovingly, whose tail swished behind him as Hret jabbed him in the side and laughed.

Tin’lo listened out of politeness at first, but found he was actually interested in hearing more from them. Thu’lain looked up and around.

“Where’s Il’tan?”

The gaur present and the elves looked around. Aside from the missing Il’tan, the other siblings of the gaur were present, as were all the elves not on patrol. Thu’lain stood up and began to scan their surroundings. Tin’lo began to stand as well.

“It is alright, she was always adventurous, so she must be nearby,” Hal advised and Hesa nodded. Instead of being comforted, Hret stood up. He shared a similar look to the one on Thu’lain’s face. They met eyes for a split second before speaking in unison.

“Something’s wrong.”

The two were moving quickly out of the camp, Thu’lain drawing both blades and Hret carrying a sturdy spear. He leaned down close to the ground and sniffed carefully.

“This way. Her scent trails into the forest.” Hret did not hesitate and strode forward. Thu’lain followed at a clipped pace, with Tin’lo arriving behind them closely followed by Hal and Hesa.

Thu’lain kept his awareness open as they strode through the dark, trusting Hret to follow Il’tan’s scent. There was nothing unusual about the area, but the next step he took filled him with what felt like an electric shock. Hret hadn’t seemed to react, but he could tell by the way Tin’lo jolted as soon as he stepped close that he wasn’t alone. He shared a quick glance with Tin’lo and they both nodded.

Another tear.

Thu’lain started following faster behind Hret, even going so far as to overtake him; he could feel the surging magical energy overflowing in the area, and knew that he would likely find Il’tan at its source.

Hret noticed the change in how Thu’lain moved and fell in behind him silently, swapping roles from tracker to sentry seamlessly. As they pursued further, even Hret could feel something in the air - a strong sensation that made his fur stand on end.

Thu’lain abandoned any pretense of stealth; he could practically taste the power in the air, intensely different from the tear the fairies had used to pass through Erebus - several magnitudes greater - and he had to know what was happening. He sprinted into a clearing, suspiciously empty of trees and barren of anything but flattened and smooth earth.

Standing in the center of the hundred foot clearing was Il’tan, her head staring up at the moon. She did not turn to look at them, as if caught in a trance.

Thu’lain glanced at the moon in confusion before the realization struck him.

The moon was on the other half of the sky.