He wrapped his fingers around the limbs of the chair. Though it protested, he wrenched it free with a quick motion, tossing the leg of the chair into the growing pile.

What was he doing? Zerin was gathering chair legs for firewood. After building a decent pile, he would stand up a leg and drive the [Astral Blade] down its center.

Pounding his fist against the dull edge, the blade was driven even deeper until the wood splintered in half. The two pieces fell apart, and he picked up another leg and continued the process.

After accumulating a substantial pile of wood, Zerin began building the fire. Following the technical survival teachings Jerika had taught him, he felt well-prepared for most survival situations. He had already prepared a hand drill and shredded dry tinder. It wasn't perfect, but it should be enough to get the fire started.

Gently, he positioned the spindle in the shallow groove of the wooden seat, which had now been repurposed as a hearth board.

Taking a deep breath, he began to twirl the spindle.

He continued, even whilst being unable to see anything in the darkness of the room, hoping to birth an ember.

Then he saw it---It was faint, but the unmistakable orange glow was easily seen in the darkness. He carefully dropped the ember into the kindling. Wrapping the dry fibers around it, his cupped hands cradled the ember in the dry fabric, and he blew softly.

The ember flickered. Leaning in, he blew once more, and it ignited, flames rapidly consuming the kindling. He quickly and carefully set the fiery ball into the firewood, watching as the flames licked the bone-dry wood.

Once the fire had built itself up sustainably, he grabbed another piece of wood adding to the flames. Everything was in place: he had shelter, a weapon, a fire, and plenty of wood to spare.

This unfortunate situation outside in the bitter cold had transformed into something rather favorable in just a few hours. A smile spread across his face witnessing the fruits of his handiwork.

His eyes drifted to the pile of firewood, and he summoned the [Sly Pack]. Summoning dormant memories like this one didn't strain his blood supply much; he could probably do it a hundred times before any significant strain to his body would occur.

The [Astral Blade], however, was a different story. As an awakened memory— it was ranked higher than him due to his soul core being dormant—meaning he could likely summon it only about twenty times in one sitting.

He opened the pack's flap, filled it with the firewood, and closed it securely for safekeeping.

Deciding he should have extra kindling to spare just in case, he grabbed his sword and cut more fabric from the mat he had rolled up earlier.

That's a good enough. He leaned to his side and grabbed the once again pack.

He opened the pack again, only to be surprised to find it empty. Tilting he pack upside down, he shook it, but nothing came out---not even a speck of dust.

What?

Zerin was bewildered. Had he just lost an entire stash of firewood, just like that? What on earth was going on?

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Tossing the pack aside, Zerin raised a hand to his head and began searching through the memory runes.

Memory Name: [Sly Pack]

Memory Rank: Dormant, Tier II

Memory Description: "Treacherous in nature, this pack is an ally you can never trust, it will always deliver, just not at the time you'd expect."

Memory Enchantments:

[Day Pack] - "During daylight hours, all items stored in this pack are accessible. When daylight is absent, all items are withheld from you."

[Instant Retrieval] - "This pack can summon any item stored in it, into the owner's hands instantly---within a certain range of course."

Zerin sighed. What type of funny game are they playing on me?

This sounded like something Cael would do, not Jerika. But the more he thought about it, the more he understood. Things were probably just that bad in the city.

He closed the flap of his pack and set it aside, to even get access to the contents within it, he would have to wait until daybreak.

He pulled over the rolled-up mat and unraveled it, he wasn't particularly tired. But it was probably best for him to set a schedule. He laid down rolling himself up in the mat, oddly it wasn't all that bad.

Laying in front of the fire he had brief worries about the smoke filling the room, but the pinnacle of his worries was the potential of a nightmare creature barging into the room as that table was hardly a stable barricade in the slightest.

He kept his sword nearby and closed his eyes hoping for the best.

***

He awoke to the chill that invited itself back into his new abode.

Blinking against the darkness. Immediately, he realized that the fire had become nothing but simmering coals.

Sitting up, he unraveled the mat from his body. Night still reigned and the fire needed to be stoked.

He grabbed his blade and prepared some additional firewood. All the firewood he had previously gathered was stashed away in that damned treacherous pack, and its contents was completely inaccessible until daylight---Whenever that might be.

Placing more wood in the hot coals the flames slowly came back to life.

How long until daybreaks?

Zerin stood up from the fire. He should just see for himself. He carefully shifted the table away from the doorway.

Flakes of snow drifted softly down the mountain. Even with this gentle snowfall, he noticed evidence of heavier storms that had come before. The body he had placed on the mountainside was now completely obscured by a thick blanket of snow.

In addition to that something else also caught his eye. Above the mountain peak, in the sky a fracture glowed iridescently. Its light blending into a stunning aurora that tinted the surrounding snow lightly. Zerin swore he could see grains of dust or debris spilling from the fracture, like the sands of an hourglass.

But from what he could see outside, it didn't appear that day was going to arrive quite yet.

Hearing the howling winds return, Zerin quickly fled back into the confines of his shelter, covering the doorway once more to shield himself from the elements.

Besides the cold, he was surprised that the dream realm didn't have as many creatures as he expected, as his short stay on this mountain was rather peaceful.

Sitting back beside the fire, Zerin added more firewood from the nearby pile---a pile that was made with the intention to not make the same mistake he made before by storing it in that cursed pack.

He decided it was best to stay ahead of things and made some more tinder, just in case.

Unbuttoning one of the chest pockets of his heavy jacket, Zerin figured it would be the safest place to store the tinder, away from moisture. But instead, he found something unexpected.

His fingers brushed against a folded piece of paper. Curiosity piqued, and Zerin pulled the dirty piece of parchment out, raising an eyebrow as he unfolded it.

The dirty white parchment unfolded into a map of the region. His heart raced as his eyes brushed over the details. The map depicted rugged mountains encircling the entire area, caging it in, with rivers veining their way to frozen lakes. And there, in the upper right corner, he saw it—The Gateway. It was marked within a massive mountain that was ruined with a huge fracture, labeled as 'Fractured Peaks'.

Could it really be this easy?

Zerin chuckled to himself, a hand lifting up brushing against his temple. With this map, they could easily---

They? Who was they? Zerin was completely alone. Despite having knowledge of the region, it was still extremely vast filled with dense forests, towering mountains, caves, flowing rivers and expansive lakes. How could he possibly find Dex in such a vast wilderness?

As his mind reeled, trying to figure out where to begin, he absentmindedly flipped the map over and noticed something peculiar: a message written in bold black letters.

'FLEE THE STORM. YOU CANNOT HIDE. KEEP MOVING.'

"Flee the storm?" Zerin parroted, furrowing his brow.

What storm? The snow outside? Who would go out during the night and abandon their shelter to face the cold?

Zerin found the message utterly useless and tucked the map back into his jacket pocket alongside the spare kindling.

***

Daylight just couldn't come any sooner.

Zerin sat beside his fire, watching the flames. It was like watching paint dry as he waited for day to break.

The storm outside grew stronger. Zerin was relieved he hadn't taken the foolish course of action to go out there; he would probably have succumbed to the elements. Zerin trusted his gut more than the warnings from someone who hadn't made it.

Knock, knock.

He flinched suddenly, his eyes darting to the barricade. His heart froze as the crackling of the fire was swallowed by the emptiness. He held his breath, his eyes locking on the heavy table that served as a barricade.

The knocking returned, louder this time.

"Who is there?!" Zerin shouted as he reached for his sword, a sense of unease tightening in his chest.

Who could possibly weather such a storm? Other than a nightmare creature?

His eyes widened at the realization. That was—

A familiar voice caused his heart to drop.

"Can I come in?"