The river was quiet except for the water which gently flowed beneath them and ambient buzzing of wings. After the Doah’s insect massacre, most wildlife steered clear of the river. Rustling brush could only be heard in the distance and Gazen finally caught his breath.

“You haven’t regained enough flame to show me?” Tondo asked ten minutes down the river, “Just a little bit.”

The Doah had no concept of mana, and their ‘flames’ gathered much faster than Gazen could expect his own to. The others left, but it didn’t seem like Tondo had depleted his by any significant degree in saving them.

“It takes a few hours—I mean, maybe a quarter of a day to come back in full.” Gazen had a little bit left, but it wasn’t going to waste to amuse a dragonfly.

Tondo’s body was a little over ten feet long and his wingspan was nearly the same in width. He wove between branches and slowly followed them trying to get Gazen to put on a show.

“How disappointing. I expected you to me far more impressive.” Tondo’s overhead flame flickered. “You’re not much help to even the Toah if you become so defenseless after unleashing flames for only a short while.”

“Hey, I’m not defenseless!” The dragonfly was pretentious, but Gazen found it difficult to protest when the thing was a better mage than he was. Tondo always had a flame out ready to be used, and it seemed to grow as he flew around. “Why don’t you go get me a stick? I’ll show you.”

“I beg your pardon, primate,” Tondo buzzed closer, “a stick?”

“That’s right.” He nodded with a smug grin, “Any one will do. I’ll show you what a primate can do.”

“Very well. But know that I am not easily impressed.” He disappeared through the foliage and could be heard buzzing around for a few minutes before returning with a stick dangling from one of his many hands.

Gazen took it from him and sat cross-legged on the lily pad, pulling out his artificing needle. As he dragged it across the stick, it burned intricate circles and runes into the wood and left behind lines which glowed a faint crimson.

“Are you creating a new tool?” Tika asked next to him, but tondo watched on silently.

“I suppose you could call it that.” As he pressed into the wood, his needle slid effortlessly over it and each time he finished a glyph it would flare up to the oohs and ahs of the surrounding spawnlings until it became a hundred sparkles in Tondo’s compound eyes.

With simplistic glyphs like these, I can just steal mana from the air to trigger it. No need to worry about how long it will last either, so long as they all activate before it burns up. This should do quite nicely.

Now carved in complex which held a dim glow, Gazen held it out in his hand and turned it over carefully, as if one wrong move would set it off. In a sense, he wasn’t wrong. In nature, flame consumes air, so it was easy to power that as the source of mana to activate it.

As he slowly twisted it and ran his gaze around the magic circles, they pulsed, passing the surrounding air. If it had enough mana, it would activate, but there wasn’t quite that much just sitting around. Once it started it could take care of itself, but knowing how much that took on a quick project like this was not easy.

“Is it a weapon?” Tondo asked and buzzed a little closer before reaching with one hand.

“Whoa there,” Gazen cautiously backed up and brought it away from his grasp, “Look but don’t touch.”

He scanned the canopy for dredges of bugs hanging out and locked onto a mean looking spider. Not a leapweaver, but each fang was the size of Gazen’s forearm. It had been watching him approach until he noticed it now shrinking into a branch. “Not so fast!”

The stick he’d enchanted was a few feet long and gnarled, flickering to life as he threw it. Turning through the air, the glyphs sapped more and more mana in and started to fire up. It burst into flames right before making contact with the spider’s unsuspecting face. All eight beady eyes reflected the flaring crimson for only a moment before disappearing in a burst of flame. Roughly one fully grown goat or tree spider’s size, for reference.

This one exploded with a bang and rippled against the water, and when the flames cleared, there was no spider. Branches smoldered and gave off a plume of smoke while Embers chipped off, sizzling on the mud below.

“Not bad, huh?” Gazen gave his bug friend a triumphant grin.

“A fascinating trick.” He inspected the burnt tree closer, “It hardly contained any flame until you let go of it. Like how your display earlier only grew brighter once it cleared the treetops. Is this manner of wielding inherent to primates?”

“Not necessarily, though it’s easier with thumbs…” Gazen looked at the needle in his hand, “You could probably do it. Fetch me another stick.”

Tondo stared at him blankly for a few moments before disappearing.

“Croak.” There was Crota from behind, “They may look fierce, but the dropfang only feeds on larval terrajaw. They are essential to culling their young when the days grow long. Please do not kill another.”

“Sorry,” Gazen shrugged, “If it’s bigger than my hand it’s an instant kill. That’s my rule of thumb with spiders and I think it’s quite generous. I’ll try not to look up.”

That thing was bigger than my hand by a great measure. I stand by my actions. Just because it won’t eat Toah doesn’t mean it will skip a big soft sack of flesh like myself. I’m basically a salamander.

The exalted Lord Tondo appeared through the canopy again with another stick in hand and gave it to Gazen, curious what he would do with it. Despite their questions, he spent the next while silently enchanted it into a crude needle.

He would not grant the Doah explosions, but artificing offered much more than destruction. Even if Tondo had watched closely, it would take more comprehension than he likely had to replicate the effects. Much of a glyph was derived from one’s will, and Gazen always fancied his as hard to follow.

Breaking off a twig, he also made one that would fit in a frog’s hand much better and made one for Crota.

The two looked confused receiving sticks which only hosted a dull white glow, hardly perceptible in the daylight when they charge mana into it. They were whittled on one end to a fine point and sanded smooth with a porous rock. “These are called artificing needles. They allow you to cast spells onto an object through glyphs—generally magic circles or runes—to be activated at will, or only under certain conditions.”

Tondo turned his over carefully as if it were another bomb, “Won’t it just burn?”

Gazen chuckled, “No, that’s the point.” Then wagged his orichalcum needle around, “You can enchant most things with almost whatever you want, so long as you know how. For you, flame will come simple, but you may struggle with other elements.”

“Are you going to teach us, ribbit, how to cast these spells as you do?” Crota held his needle up closer to his bulbous eyes.

“Nope.” Gazen shook his head, “Both of your races have an inherent understanding of how to use mana. I think it would turn out better if you figured it out on your own. Though, it won’t be overnight.”

“How interesting that you should leave us gifts of such mystery.” Tondo seemed satisfied now, “Perhaps one day soon, the Doah shall wield the same bursting flames of the primate.”

That wasn’t even the part he was excited about. To them, it’s only natural to use one’s own mana to accomplish a task, but mine is limited. Even the Toah can last longer than me slinging a barrage of spells back to back, only to regain it all in an hour or two. I would never survive in these skies if I couldn’t pull the mana from wherever’s best. One day they may figure out how to take mana from the environment, but I can’t make it too easy on them.

It was a bad habit, but Gazen swore he would work on his sorcery after this island. It was not the first time he made such an oath. “Maybe you guys should meet every twelve moons and share your progress. I’m sure the Toah will have a lot of insight about the other elements to share with you.”

“We do not measure time in moons, primate.” Tondo seemed mildly offended, “Though what you speak of is four seasons. Fascinating. Our immortals will convene to see who has made the most progress in this ‘artificing’ you have shared with us.”

“It’s not really a competition…” Gazen realized there was no point trying, as even Crota was looking at the wooden needle in his hand with determination, the spawnlings all ribbiting with exuberance, “Be careful with them. They are enchanted so working with extreme elements shouldn’t damage them, but they will degrade over… A handful of seasons. You’ll need to figure out how to make new ones with them before that happens.”

“I see… Once that is done all the Doah can learn the technique.” This guy just had no expressions, but the fingers on his front two appendages were laced together in a scheming manner.

“Just don’t let me come back one day and see you lording your power over everyone, or I’ll be disappointed.” He gave him a pointed glare, “How many ‘seasons’ have you lived by the way? You said your father made a promise with the Toah?”

“Nearly two hundred. The elder Crota is but a child to one such as I.” With a few flaps he turned upwards smugly.

“Wow, that’s like… six hundred moons.” Let’s call one season a dragonfly’s lifespan. I thought the Toah’s ten times was impressive, but this blows that out of the water. Could they have really found it?

“And you, Tallwalker of Clouds?” Tondo spoke jeeringly, as far as that goes with a bug. This guy’s actually way older than me. “Um… about two hundred fifty moons? Give or take.”

“I realize the primates live much longer natural lives. You are yet young.” Tondo fluttered up and started inspecting the needle again, ending the conversation.

By that time Gazen noticed the lazy river had begun to grow shallow and pick up pace. They were nearing the end of the line. Gurgles could be heard through the trees ahead and gray clouds now loomed in the sky.

“We are close.” Crota told him, “Prepare to jump off soon.”

“Jump off…?” There was a full leap of water between Gazen and either side of the newt-infested river and the lily pad wasn’t large or solid enough to trust himself to accomplish such a feat. Even if he did, the banks were through curtains of vines and snakes. If he made it, the ground was coated with wet mud that he would just slide right down in.

Gazen started to get nervous as the trees cleared up a little and they approached a large muddy basin where the river just disappeared into the ground. Oh. I don’t like the look of that one bit. Even if the hole in the island isn’t big enough to fit a man through, there’s plenty of water to drown me down there.

Spawnlings started leaping off to one side, followed by the leading warlord and then Crota. Finally, the three young Toah from his lily pad jumped off to safety as well, “Wait, I can’t—” His jaw snapped shut as he was violently lifted off the ground the flew through the air, watching the empty lily pad disappear beneath him. The snapping salamanders popped up with jaws ready, but luckily, he was out of reach and safely in the arms of his amphibious suitor.

“Do not worry, Tallwalker. Croak, I will protect you.” Her back was slimy as it was stalwart. Curiously, her wound from the stick bug had already begun to heal.

A splash of mud coated him when they landed, and she set him down gently. Looking around, it was like a dried lakebed.

“This is what remains of our ancestral bog.” Crota spoke quietly, “Our young spanned the entire Sunken Marsh until that day…”

Gazen looked around at the massive mud pit that had become overgrown over the decades since the Great Drain, as they put it. There was something of a shore where the ground looked more solid, but they’d have to climb back up a similar hill as when they entered the marsh. Upsettingly, Gazen felt the first faint sprinkles of mist on his face as they began their ascent.

Beyond the muddy banks, they were surrounded with jagged rock that rose from the ground and jutted up, closing off the entire area. Ahead of them was a valley lined with countless waterfalls from above. If the spring was somewhere up above, the water must have travelled a long way to form a river back to the Sunken Marsh.

Both sides of the valley were formed with cascading steps of pools which each waterfalled down to the next. The late day sun came at them from an angle, glistening in each pond from a distance and forming rainbows between the land’s split. All the water met in a plunge pool at the bottom which led into a stream that disappeared through the very same hole in the island as their lazy river.

Gazen grew increasingly concerned about the weather and noticed some overhanging rocks up past the shore, “Do you mind if we stop for a short while? I’d like to make some preparations. Am I right to assume we’re climbing up that valley?”

“Beyond High Grotto lies the dark wastes and Sundered Peak, ribbit. We will need to climb up, but the weather will only worsen. It is best to continue before the sun sets.”

“I only need an hour. I’ll slow you down by at least that if I can’t, and I’d rather not be carried the whole way if I can help it.” He had his pride, and it didn’t sit right being carried when he was the one that was supposed to be helping them.

“That should be okay. If we hurry, we can still make it to the top of the Grotto before night falls.”

They made it up to dry land and started heading towards one of the natural hovels when Tika spoke up, “We are making good time. Normally we would have to make camp in the marsh, but the High Grotto holds its own dangers. It no longer belongs to the Toah.”

“That’s ominous. Another giant beast?” It was what he had come to expect at this point.

“Indeed.” Crota cut in, “Shadow Graspers. They blend in with the night pull you in, never to be seen again.”

“Wonderful… Hey Tondo, you want to help me out real quick?” He turned to the Doah, trying to make short work of this stop. “I need some more sticks and rocks this time, too. The shinier or rounder the better.”

“Interesting… While I, Lord Tondo, am no errand fly, I am curious to see what you intend to create.”

He buzzed away and came back first with couple rocks, then proceeded to bring supplies back intermittently while Gazen got to work.

His leather armor was pretty roughed up, but that could get knocked out at the end. First things first would be to fix the oversight in his footing. He could walk across mud like a frog, but he was still bound to the earth like a primate. To remedy this, Gazen had a few options. Even more if he didn’t care about wasting mana, but that was never the right move.

He started by dumping out a few sacks full of magic tools. More of his elemental knives were in here and random jewelry for different situations. He slipped one on that helped him gather ambient mana. Enchanting didn’t take a lot for most applications, but this would ensure he’d be topped off at the end. If he wore it all the time or expended too much with it on his hand, it would burn away, but it was just right for artificing.

The two most mana-efficient choices were to use air or space. Spatial sorcery was usually the go-to for most movement related enchantments, but he only had one amethyst with him. Jumping with all his weight required a little more oomph than just standing on mud, so to bring the mana cost down he needed to use an appropriate focus. The amethyst could be reclaimed easily enough, but his gravity bomb was one of the top three most useful escape tools in his arsenal.

Not to mention, he didn’t like the idea of splitting the gem in two. Instead of space, he would work with air. Theoretically he could make pillars of stone rise beneath his feet to launch himself, but that was barbaric.

Gazen had three steel bolts for his crossbow that each held a small opal. These could be used to hit whatever target he willed with certainty. They were useful, but not well suited to the threats of this island. Unless the Doah had a more agile airborne predator that numbered three or less, there was no point in keeping them all intact.

So, he broke two down, leaving just one trueshot bolt and harvesting the opals to fasten into his boots. They each nested in the sole and bore a few simple glyphs to add a burst of wind at his feet when he wanted. It took some mana, so he’d need to be careful, but it was meager.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Next, the Doah had given Gazen an idea. It wasn’t just Tondo, but all the others from earlier each had an overhead flame in addition to those growing on their backs. It seemed the ball of fire collected mana passively and they drew from it at will. Funny enough, it was the exact phenomenon that had impressed Tondo, but an inherent trait for the Doah. To accomplish the same with mana from the environment was Gazen’s goal.

In the beginning this was just regular arts and crafts. He started with an extra bent stick that curled over at the top, then used vines to tie a couple similar sticks around it to form something of a frame that flared out above where his hand would rest. This item was designed to be used in the rain, or he wouldn’t have get so fancy with it. Just as fire can rob mana from the air, so too does water wash a flame’s mana away—in addition to the other things water and rain are known to do to it.

An enclosure was necessary. This is starting to look like a staff… Sorcerer’s wielded staves, and Gazen was an artificer. The convenience of a crystal orb at his waist suited his lifestyle much better and he thought it looked pretentious to lug a big walking stick around all the time. This would be more of a lantern. A personal well of flames for Gazen—light, warmth, and whatever else someone needed fire for.

To keep the rain off it, he stretched a wide frond of some strange jungle tree or other over the two outer sticks, overlapping enough so the vines would hold the leaf down nice and taught. This turned it into an artifact closer to a lantern, but it was still missing the key component. Of course, even though the jungle flora was full of water for now, he enchanted everything with plenty of protection against heat.

Tondo watched whole time and his wings spurred erratically when he broke the silence, “I thought you were engraving the wood, but how do you engrave leaves?”

“It takes a delicate touch, but it’s just mana. I knew a man who enchanted his arms and legs, but…. Never got to see how he’s doing.”

The centerpiece would use a ruby from his last fire knife that he dismantled before tossing the scrap in a pouch and refilling the holster with a handful of ice knives. He thought reptilians wouldn’t like them so much. Next, Gazen faceted the ruby within a perfectly round stone that Tondo had scavenged. It was a shame he couldn’t skip it across a nice pond, but it served a higher purpose now.

The ruby had most of its glyphs already worked out but laying it in the stone let him set up an array to regulate and contain the flame. While it would work better once the weather cleared, the principals were simple. It was designed to sap mana out of the air just like before, but with a notable lack of explosion glyphs on the backend.

Once the glyphs were all completed and set within the stick-frond housing, a small flame flickered to life, and he held it out. A window of light escaped the open front and shone on the mud as the rain kept coming down. It wasn’t quite a deluge, but Gazen would much rather crawl into bed than climb a mountain. If it kept up like this though, it was only a matter of time until it became a real storm. The expanse of clouds above them had already darkened the day enough.

“Is that it?” Tondo looked at the small flame with what the craftsman could only imagine was disappointment.

“Just you wait. Soon it’ll be as hot as that big old head of yours.” Gazen poked the lantern into the mud and started rummaging through another bag. “Now I just need to repair my armor. Can you guys explain the shadow graspers a little better? I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into. These sound as bad as the terrajaws.”

“Not quite so, croak, but they are strong.” Crota gazed up into the valley with trepidation, “They walk on all fours and are large enough to throw you around. Their many claws can rip you to shreds or tear you apart. I have seen Toah swallowed whole in their terrible maws.”

Even Tondo had a watchful eye up the hill, “My people call them the striped bear, and not even our flames are enough to flush them out of hiding. It’s like they are truly one with the shadows, wearing a mask of night.”

“Well good thing I brought a lantern. Let’s see…” I’m kind of getting the impression they’re spirits, but the bear part completely threw me off. I have a few light artifacts, but nothing that hurts. Ghosts can be tricky, and I didn’t bring anything sacred with me. When in doubt, though, light should keep them back at least. I guess there’s nothing more I can prepare at this point.

From his other pouch, he pulled out a bundle of leather. His armor’s defenses were strewn together with a series of patches, each with their own glyph. Most of those had burned off, leather and all. To remedy this, he cut out some squares and started inscribing them. These glyphs used pure mana from the atmosphere to create an opposite force whenever incoming mana got too close. By nature, they burned up very quickly, so he had come to the habit of making them disposable until he could fine tune the technique.

An array of thirty or so of these glyphs formed a barrier of aethereal repulsion which shattered upon a single lunge from the leapweaver. With this in mind, Gazen just kept layering them on until Crota said something, needling away to the raindrops.

“Tallwalker, I fear we are out of time. Any longer and we will surely meet night in High Grotto.” As he said, it was getting steadily darker, but that was also due to cloud cover. The sun could no longer be seen, but Gazen estimated they had almost three hours until it was really dark.

“Then let’s not delay any further. Will we make camp at the top?” Gazen started piling his artifacts back in and tied the various pouches back onto his belt.

“This is where I depart.” Tondo fluttered above them, “I will watch you from afar until the weather becomes a bother, and perhaps I will pop in tomorrow. If we do not meet again, I thank you for the gift you have given my people, Ape of Blooming Flame.” He held up his artificing stick with a wave before disappearing through the encroaching mist.

Can’t I ever get a single cool nickname?

The Toah spawnlings grew nervous as they approached the misty valley, led this time by Gazen and Crota with the other two warlords in back. Crota effortlessly made the first jump, landing one level up, and Gazen replicated it perfectly. So perfectly in fact, that he looked down on Crota with his arms flailing as he continued even further past the ledge.

“Oh shiiii—” Splash! Gazen hardly had time to toss his lantern aside before he found himself in a deep pool and thrashed around until he could feel the bottom, only to jump out of his skin at the prospect of what may or may not be swimming with him. Through loud and violent effort, Gazen finally found the edge of the pool and clawed himself up, only to see a slightly judgmental Crota standing above him.

“Let’s hope the shadow graspers yet slumber.”

“Sorry…” Gazen shrunk down, “I should have tested the boots first.”

The lantern cleaned off in the rain and the rest of the group made it up to that level before moving on. They kept going like this—just one step at a time. Any more than that and they could be separated when something happens or picked off silently. It was too risky.

“We should stop and drink. The waters are clean here.” It fell down from somewhere up above and each pool was crystal clear. Gazen’s mouth started salivating at the idea and he put his head under a waterfall, effectively cleaning most of the residual slime off him in the process and guzzling down fresh spring water.

When he was done, he saw the Toah doing the same like roosters in the rain, letting the water pour right in. It was a quick refreshing stop, even if they were soaked through from the rain. Gazen was likely the only one bothered by that, but his clothes were heavy enough to make a noticeable change in his jump-height.

The lantern’s flame had started to grow as well. While it gathered flame and grew marginally in size, most of what it did was condense fire mana. It was already brighter than before, and Gazen could feel the warmth on his skin, even under the cold wet clothes. It was still miserably frigid, but relatively bearable.

This went on for another hour as they carefully hopped to each ascending pool before taking a quick headcount, then jumped up to the next level. Now that they were in the groove of it, the noises they made were quiet enough to be muffled out by the rain. Unfortunately, it was getting darker faster than Gazen had hoped, but they were halfway up the valley now with no incident.

“It’s almost been too quiet,” Gazen observed.

“I agree.” Crota said with his eyes trained above, “I think they’re watching us.”

I should just keep my mouth shut next time…

Overall, their first day was going smoothly and was slated to end on a good note at the top of a mountain. None of the injuries from the bugs were too serious and were treated with herbal salves. A few of the younglings might have trouble swinging a weapon, but they could move and cast magic just fine.

Everyone had been enjoying the chance to withhold their mana in this time, quietly tiptoeing around each step to make their leaps as fluid as possible. Gazen wanted to believe they would make it all the way without running into something, but he knew it was too good to be true.

Almost two-thirds up, Gazen and Crota hopped up to a new platform in unison. It had a gentle waterfall pouring into it from above and the two froze when they landed and stared into the pool. Floating there in the middle was a large furry beast, almost the size of the average bear Gazen would think of. It had a dark brown coat and dark paws that could rip a grown man’s chest open.

It floated in the pool belly up, gently twirling as the stream pushed the water around. In a dwindling ray of daylight that glistened on the water, Gazen could see its vicious fangs facing up to the sky.

Well, at least the tail is striped…? I don’t know if I’d call this thing a bear. Its rotation eventually revealed a big round face, with big black eyes that bulged as they fell upon Gazen. A mask of night, huh? That’s one way of looking at it.

The beast suddenly flailed around in a panic, clawing for the edges just like Gazen had before, snickering and shrieking all the while. Finally free from its watery prison, the beast placed all for sharpened claws on the ground and rapidly convulsed, sending an explosion of water into the air to dry its fur.

Looking at them now, its fur was all puffed up and its masked face shrunk back in a cautious expression with a wild glint in its eyes, unsure whether to growl or run. Behind was nothing but rocks, meaning it would have to go through them or make a break for it. But will it attack?

The elder Toah started conjuring a fireball that reflected in the beast’s glossy eyes which recoiled and shook in fear. Gazen held a hand up in front of Crota, stopping him. As the flame died down, he watched its fearful eyes stare curiously into Gazen’s.

“Crota, this is a racoon.” Gazen still didn’t break eye contact with it, “Albeit, a very large one. I’ll give you that.”

He looks scared. Is it because I’m here? I wonder if they really grab Toah like that. I guess I couldn’t put it past him. Just look at this guy, he’s trying to grab something right now.

The fur on the racoon’s face was in a pattern such as to make him look like a common masked bandit, and it had been slowly lifting its paw up and out towards them during this stare-down as if he could do it so slow to trick the mind into thinking he wasn’t moving at all. Like he could swipe something away and no one would ever know who did it.

“What are you trying to grab?” Gazen took one step forward and it froze. Taking one more step, it started to shrink back and made a low, timid growl. The large racoon let him get closer but didn’t make any move to strike, only glancing to the side at its escape route. “You’re not so bad, are you…?”

Gazen was close enough to reach out his hand and slowly placed it on the racoon’s head, which was a little larger than his own. The plump beast’s neck scrunched up as he held it there and ruffled him up a little before its jaw opened slightly, staring up at him.

“T-tallwalker. You must be mad!” Crota started to approach but froze looking at the fearsome beast.

“It’s fine.” Gazen shushed him, “This will work.”

Far be it from me to pass up an opportunity to save on mana. The racoon slowly reached out a paw and placed it on Gazen’s head now, snickering. Gazen grinned at it, “That’s right. We’re friends now.”

It was doubtful his words were understood, but he liked to think they came to an understanding. Gazen started softly scratching around its ear and the racoon turned into it, almost purring. After a few minutes of this Gazen got a little closer and with a swift motion plopped himself right down on its back.

It jumped back in surprise then craned its neck around, staring at Gazen for a good minute while Crota stood there, pale as a ghost. As for the ride, it was wider but not taller than a horse. Much lower to the ground, almost slinking along. Evidently within their routine was a sunset bath on the rainy cliffside, but for the time being, it would serve as Gazen’s legs.

“You can’t be serious. Croak…” His call carried as he deflated, watching Gazen give the shadow grasper a pat on the head and click of his heels, telling the beast to move forward. And it did, but quite slowly. Practically crawling, but steady. Gazen leaned to the side and directed it to walk a circle around the waterfall pond, testing out what it was capable of.

“Ribbit, did something happen—” Tika appeared from below and went silent upon landing.

“We should make the last push.” Gazen pointed up the valley from the shadow grasper’s back, “They shouldn’t attack us now, right?” In his other hand, he waved his lantern around and looked for the best path, “Hey you need a name, don’t you?”

The racoon looked back at him with curiosity in its eyes. Poor guy must be pretty confused. But what’s a good name? He sure does have a mask of night, if you think about it. “I’ll name you Mask Samson. Now let us be off!”

They slowly plopped along as the spawnlings all started jumping up and gawking at the sight. They had broken into a fit which the warlords quickly had to hush before everyone was ready to continue.

They were all able to hop up, but after a little convincing, Samson started crawling up the hill with Gazen clutching onto his coarse fur. They gradually made it another few levels before encountering another racoon beast. This one hissed at Crota until Gazen came into view riding his steed, then shrunk back and made a weird growl only to disappear into the bushes.

“Well, that works for me.” Gazen commented, “The last stretch should be easy.”

While Gazen was now the slowest, Samson never stopped. The Toah would jump up when it was safe only to watch him plod around the waterfall’s pool until reaching the hillside one chubby racoon step at a time. He was almost like a caterpillar in a way, but eventually they would safely reach the next level where Crota could meet him and the Toah could continue their ascent once more.

Slow and steady wins the race, as it goes. The man who first said those words must have been in a similar situation as I.

The higher up they went, the closer High Grotto looked to ruins. Below much of it had been washed out and overgrown, but here were dilapidated driftwood huts and musty scraps of leather balled up in piles of rotting wood scraps. It was clear some of these pools were carved out or expanded, and some even had bridges between them.

One thousand moons ago, this city was destroyed… A mere eight decades. Ancient history to the Toah. Even more ancient to those dragonflies whose chief has already been alive for more than half that. Yet the weathered wood still remains after these short decades since whatever calamity came to this island.

“Just a little further now…” Gazen was admittedly ready for bed. Samson was soaked, making him even more soaked and chilled to the bone despite the lantern’s growing flame. All the other striped bears they passed gave them weird looks and indiscernible beast calls before quickly disappearing. Gazen almost felt bad for Samson, but the big boy himself didn’t seem to mind. Samson stared back at them blankly and trudged up each hill no matter how steep without breaking pace, only pausing for the occasional head scratch.

“We may reach the spring by morrow’s end if the weather permits it.” Crota was in good spirits at their smooth ascent, having nearly made it to the top already as the black clouds furled and released booms of distant thunder. The sky was almost completely black now and Gazen was thankful for his lantern, even if he didn’t get the chance to throw fireballs with it today.

From the uppermost pool, he could see the myriad of waterfalls stepping down all the way to the marsh they struggled through that morning. It was incredible how far they made it given the terrain, and he could see Breeze Haven moored way past where he imagined the Grove was situated. His home was hardly a speck in the distance, with only its single spire sticking above verdant sea of green.

“These are shallow caves. Croak.” The elder pointed out a rocky hill that led up from the highest waterfall, “Good to build a fire and sleep. The shadow graspers should not trouble us either now that you have tamed one.”

The spawnlings evidently collected small rats and lizards throughout their ascent, and started butchering them up once they claimed a cave. It was a little difficult to find dry wood, but Gazen finally found a use for his lantern’s flame and got a decent campfire going. Since it was bedtime, he didn’t mind wasting some mana to pull the water out of his clothes and got warmed up.

His diet was usually better than rats and lizards, but Gazen couldn’t be choosy today. His stomach welcomed any kind of fresh meat. After a ravenous dinner, everyone was quick to rest. The warlords took turns standing watch and let everyone else sleep through the night. Gazen leaned up against Samson who tilted his face in and started snoozing. As the warmth flickered over his body from the fire, Gazen eventually let sleep come, easing his muscles and weary mind.

___

“Tell me more about these Dark Wastes.” Gazen had been itching to know what waited for him in the last leg of the trial as they packed up camp and prepared to leave. It had poured through the night and flashed with lightning, only to get worse from the moment they turned in. He was glad to have gotten out of it when they did, but the rolling thunder woke him up more than a couple times.

“You will find nothing but sand and glass until we reach the spring, but we still must watch above. The skyreavers sometimes drift over the wastes on their way across the island.”

“Sand and glass, huh?” This calamity keeps getting curiouser. “I’m all ready to go.”

They had to wait a few hours after daybreak for the rain to actually stop, then they could start packing up. After a hearty breakfast of rats, they began the climb again. This was simple enough on the back of a dependable racoon, but the Toah struggled with this steep, rocky surface. Gazen noticed his lantern had continued to grow overnight and was burning nice and bright even under the misty sun. Nice and toasty for him and his companion.

Once they made it to the top, Gazen hastily pulled back on Samson. Whether or not he would walk straight off was debatable, but they were staring in front of a sheer cliff face with a clear view of the sky beneath them and a brisk wind pushing back on them from below.

“You never mentioned this!” Gazen complained to the approaching toad.

“Our land is made up of many. To reach the Dark Wastes, we must cross here.”

Across the gap were collapsed stones—long and jagged like those at the base of the High Grotto. They formed a land bridge connecting one island to the next. Somewhere above there was a protrusion of land crossing over from the across with a deep river falling down it, feeding the waterfalls they just climbed up. The opposite side of the valley must have been fed from the first island’s spring, yet they all drained through the same hole.

“I don’t know how I feel about this…” Even Samson was nervous as he urged him to start crossing. The knocked over stone bridge was narrow but had plenty of surface to walk on. It was just questionable whether it would be in that very moment that it finally broke, after all those years of trials, while Gazen wanted to cross it. That would be his luck.

Somehow, Samson did just fine once he got started. Looking down at the hazy sky below made Gazen queezy, but his steed plodded along all the same with all the Toah hopping behind. After the harrowing bridge crossing, Gazen took a second to sit down on solid ground.

There was a thin layer of mud that broke when he put his weight on it, revealing a dark, almost charcoal colored sand.

He didn’t care about the smeared mud and took a few seconds to catch his breath.

“Are you unwell, tallwalker?” Tika knelt beside him, “I can carry you if you want. Much better than that beast.”

“No, it’s quite alright… I don’t usually travel between islands on foot is all.”

When he looked up there was a desolate expanse of the same dark sand, broken up by random outcroppings of stone or what almost looked like ruined buildings from afar. There were hilly dunes as far as the eye could see and somewhere just before the horizon was the base of Sundered Peak. It towered over the island with its uncomfortably perfect split which canvased the rising sun that beat down on them.

Finally, Gazen got back on Samson and they continued their journey. The frogs didn’t like the sand, but his racoon’s pace hadn’t changed even the slightest, snickering now and again when Gazen would talk to him.

They made great speed again with no sign of danger, but it was always when Gazen had such thoughts that it came for him. It was a low rumbling in the distance like rippling winds turning the sand over. “Could that be a sandstorm?” He asked, but the Toah had all frozen in place, croaking nervously. “Guys…? What is it?”

“We have to run. Quick! Beyond those stones!” Crota was in a panic and everybody had already started hopping away. Even Samson had his hackles up and moved faster than ever before conceived. The stones they aimed for formed a large outcrop which led to a plateau. Presumably, that’s where they would escape this new threat.

“Seriously, what is it?!” Even Gazen was starting to freak out as they had almost made it to safety. Just a few more minutes and they’d be out of sight, but the rumbling had also gotten louder. Now Gazen could feel it vibrating the entire desert.

“The serpent.” Tika’s round eyes wore like yellow orbs, “It comes for us.”

“What?!” Gazen now shared their sentiment and encouraged Samson to scoot his corpulent form along at top speed. He wheezed and made little squeaks by they time they finally made it to the rocks, but as soon as they rounded the corner, Gazen realized they couldn’t have fled to a worse place.

Sitting there in the sand and propped up against the stones which offered them their only chance of survival in this dreadful desert were six stark white eggs with a soft shell. Each one was twice Gazen’s height, and something writhed around within them, ready to escape. Samson skidded along the sand to a stop while the Toah all froze again and some of the spawnlings even fell to their knees.

“I am sorry, tallwalker…” Crota’s voice dripped with regret as he spoke, “I have led us to our death.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, my amphibious friend. I don't plan on dying today.”