The boat ride from Goldale to Wildehaven was unsettlingly quiet. Normally on long boat rides, Thepa and Rory would have been laughing, enjoying the view, and talking about the future as if they didn't have a care in the world. But now as the two of them stood side by side the only sounds were the crash of waves against the hull and the sailors barking orders among the sails and riggings.

As Rory stared out at the sea, Thepa stared back at her. Last week had seemed like a lifetime ago. The day she stood in the marketplace seeing her friend lying on the ground was not one she was soon to forget. It was both a nightmare and a dream come true. More importantly, it was the day she got her friend back. For that, she was grateful. However, if it wasn't for the nagging voice in the back of her mind, her spirit might have been at ease.

Did I? she wondered.

Physically, Rory was there. The scar on her left hand from one of their old missions was still there, her hair just as wild and untamed. Even her smile—when it appeared—was the same one that had accompanied countless shared jokes.

But none of that was enough.

The person beside her didn't know her, didn't remember the endless hours they'd spent together, the battles they'd fought side by side, the griefs they'd quietly borne. Worse still, Rory didn't know herself. Thepa had spent countless hours, relentlessly recounting stories, names, places—each memory a plea only to have Rory stare back with nothing but confusion. The only glimmer of recognition had been Rory impression of her bow, now a fleeting whisper that dissipated into the night.

This was not her friend; not her sister. Not her Rory.

Rory shifted, kneeling by the rail, resting her head against the wood as if trying to draw strength from the sea. Thepa, too short to do the same, bent her knees awkwardly to match her.

"Tired?" she asked, much softer than she intended.

Rory let out a slow sigh, her chest heaving before a heavy deflate against the taffrail. "No. I was just thinking."

Thepa turned her head in her direction, forcing a tasing smirk. "You have to be careful with that, you might hurt yourself."

Rory's head snapped toward her; a stern look on her face that sliced through the attempt at humor. Thepa quickly looked away. "Sorry," she mumbled, guilt creeping in. "We used to joke around to lighten the mood. Go on, please."

This is not my friend.

Rory, turned her lackluster green eyes back towards the sea. "I was thinking about this Wildehaven you told me about. If some of my most powerful memories are there and I don't remember them, then what? If Draco, Einkidi, Gamma, Claudia, Gate of Moon, and my younglinghood home are the strongest of my memories, what happens if I don't remember them either?"

Thepa almost winced at the mentioned of Claudia and Gamma. The former had not been seen since they returned to Wildehaven to report Rory's suppose death leaving Thepa with nothing but silence where their friendship once was.

And Gamma... Thepa hadn't been able to fulfill the promise Rory had asked of her in her letter. She had searched tirelessly—magical and mundane—but every attempt to contact Gamma had come up empty. Thepa considered telling Rory the truth, but as she looked at her friend with her sorrowful blue eyes how could she? How could she burden her with losses she didn't even remember? Instead, she pushed down the swell of guilt, desperate to change the subject.

""Remember what the healer said?" Thepa asked, though the irony of asking Rory to remember wasn't lost on her. "We know you were captured by the enemy. Given the scars on your body, it's clear you went through something traumatic. The healer believes your mind is protecting you by helping you forget."

Rory's gaze didn't waver from the waves crashing against the boat, but she gave a small nod. "Maybe it would be better if I did forget, then."

Thepa's breath caught. "Is that what you want?" she asked softly, afraid of the answer.

For a while, nothing was said. The waves continued to crash and the sailors continued to bark orders, but Thepa needed to know where Rory stood. More importantly, she needed to know who the woman was, so she kept quiet.

When Rory spoke, it was much to her relief. "No," she said firmly. "I don't believe the suffering I went through is greater than what I could gain by remembering. I need to be able to look pass temporary pain to gain back what I lost."

Thepa's heart swelled. Not only did Rory's words show her resolve, but they echoed the teachings of Chandeidra—words she had lived by for as long as Thepa had known her.

Perhaps this is my friend after all.

"Well, I'm with you every step of the way then. Hopefully, in a few days, Elite Team One will catch up with us and we can meet up with Draco and Einkidi."

But even her optimism couldn't prepare her for what was to come. Those next few days would be nothing short of a disaster.

When they finally disembarked, they were greeted by Mistress Deeprabbit. Thepa had hoped their meeting might stir something in Rory, though she wasn't expecting much—the two had never been particularly close. The real hope lay in Mistress Deeprabbit's plan to connect Rory with the prophetess. The Mistress theorized since both Rory and the prophetess had foreseen her capture, they must have had insight into what had happened to her afterward as well.

But when they arrived at the prophetess's high tower, they found it empty. Stranger still, a note awaited them on a tea-stained table, addressed to Thepa and the Mistress: Traveling. I'll be in touch.

When they failed to connect with the prophetess, they pressed on, leading Rory to the temple of Chandeidra. As they neared the temple, Rory's demeanor shifted. At first, she merely fidgeted, wiping sweat from her brow and casting nervous glances. Then, she started to subtly divert their path, suggesting other places to visit, distractions that grew more desperate the closer they got. Finally, as they approached the towering statues outside the temple, Rory came to an abrupt halt, refusing to go any further. She wouldn't even say why. Thepa and the Mistress tried to be patient with her, urging her to go in, but instead, she acted like a youngling throwing a fit over not being allowed to have a treat.

This is not my friend.

Mistress Deeprabbit shrugged, giving Thepa a brief nod before disappearing into the temple, leaving Thepa alone with Rory by the statue. Rory paced in anxious circles, wringing her hands and fingers in front of her. Moments later, the Mistress returned with the archpriest by her side.

Thepa had only met the archpriest once before, the day Rory had accepted her role in the temple. He was older halfling, well passed gray with skin sagging down his chin. He wore a ceremonial robe that was too big for him, and as he approached, Thepa wondered how he managed to keep from tripping over himself.

He knelt before Rory and bowed low. "High Priestess! I'm so pleased to see your alive."

Rory looked uncomfortable and eyed the path back the way they had come. Thepa thought she might have been considering making a break for it. Instead, she took a step back and stated as a matter of fact: "I'm not your high priestess."

The archpriest faltered, surprise pulling his skin taunt. "I... yes someone did explain your circumstances. Perhaps that discussion is best saved for another time."

They managed to stay at the temple a few more minutes before Rory claimed to be tired and asked to head back to the Ministry of Venya dorms. After arriving and being shown a room, Rory promptly said goodnight and shut the door even though the sun still shone brightly outside. Alone once more, Thepa stood there, staring at the closed door, feeling the first tendrils of doubt begin to creep in.

By the second day, her doubt had grown into something far heavier. The archpriest's hopeful tone echoed in her mind, but Thepa began to fear that the "right time" the archpriest spoke of would never come. That morning, they visited Rory's foster home. The place was a mess, having not been taken care of in many months, but much of Rory's younglinghood things were still there. Thepa watched Rory move around the room, her fingers trailing across old knick-knacks and familiar corners. But when Thepa asked her, "Does anything stand out?" Rory's silent shake of the head was all the answer she needed.

The market, the docks, the orphanage, and the school proved to be equally as frustrating. That evening the Mistress came over with a few bottles of her sherry. Surprised and touched by the gesture, Thepa gave a hopeful toast to victory, but Rory didn't lift her glass. She drank in silence, finishing the whole bottle, but it only made both of them sad.

This is not my friend.

On the third day, Thepa was out of ideas. By then, Elite Team One had sent word of their success and that they should arrive by the evening. With nothing else to do, Thepa tried one last time to catch the prophetess. This time she went alone.

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When she arrived, a youngling stood outside, fidgeting in the afternoon sun piercing the steps leading up to the high tower. "Are you Ms. Thepa?" the youngling asked.

Thepa forced a smile. "I am."

The youngling handed her a note, her face lighting up as she spoke. "A pretty halfling gave me a whole gold piece to stand here today and give this to you. Said I'd get another one from you if I did a good job."

Thepa sighed, but her gratitude won out. She handed the youngling a second coin, watching as she scampered away. Then, she unfolded the note.

"Like I said, I'll be in touch."

Thepa stared at the words, feeling the sting of defeat settle into her bones. There would be no answers. No guidance. No prophetess. Just more waiting.

Defeated, Thepa wandered through the town, aimlessly at first, until her hooves carried her to a familiar place—the training grounds. A new class of hunters was marching toward the facility, their faces young and full of fire. Without thinking, she followed them, drawn by the echoes of her own past. When they arrived at the entrance, she was met by a familiar face: Minister Goodshadow, her old instructor.

"Ms. Warbol! I heard you were in town. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's good to see you again Minister Goodshadow. I was hoping I could join the instruction today?"

The Minister smiled warmly. "Ms. Warbol, I dare say you could teach this class far better than I could. Who would like to see a demonstration?" The class cheered as the Minister clapped, egging her on.

Thepa blushed and unslung her bow. She took two arrows and prepared to notch them, but thought it best to say something before firing. "The key to any good shot is breathing. When you inhale, you increase the air and tension inside of you. This causes your body to lift and expand."

She demonstrated by taking a sharp breath in. "Notice how this causes the arrow to move. Likewise, when you exhale you release the air and tension causing your body to fall. This also causes the arrow to move."

Again, she demonstrated by releasing air from her body. "Therefore, we have two options. The first is a bit tricky and takes practice. We breathe from the gut. This allows us to still breathe without raising our chest making it easier to shoot without moving the arrow. The second way is to hold our breath for a beat. There is always a small moment before your body changes between exhale and inhale. We extend that moment long enough to release the arrow."

A human female raised her hand and Thepa called on her. "If the second one is easier and more natural, why would we ever use the first one?"

Minister Goodshadow nodded. "An excellent question Ms. Kami. Does anyone know?" He gave a minute to see if anyone else would answer then allowed Thepa to do so. "Go ahead, Ms. Warbol."

Thepa stepped confidently to the middle target and stood in front of the bucket of arrows. In one smooth motion, she began firing, releasing two arrows each into all ten targets hitting the center each and every time. When she finished, she lowered her bow; the class erupting into cheers.

" Now imagine you're on the battlefield," Thepa said, her voice cutting through the applause. "Your only hope is to keep firing, arrow after arrow. But the longer you fight, the more exhaustion sets in. If you're not breathing properly, if your focus wavers even for a second, you won't be defeated by the enemy—" she paused, letting the weight of her words sink in, "you'll be defeated by yourself."

The Minister clapped; his approval clear. "Any questions for Ms. Warbol?"

Hands shot up all around her. Thepa started to call on them one by one, but as she did, her hand subconsciously found its way to the inscription engraved upon the riser. Her fingers traced the letters, the words forever etched into her memory:

To my one True Sister, may you always find your mark.

It was then a realization hit Thepa, much like an arrow hitting its mark: she was avoiding Rory. She had poured her energy into this demonstration, into the crowd, because facing Rory, the new Rory, felt far more uncertain.

This Rory may not be the friend she remembered, Thepa thought, her heart heavy. But maybe... just maybe, this new Rory could become someone to call friend. If I'm lucky, sister.

And if the old Rory was gone, she would be sad, but she would still have this new one. If she could get her friend back, that would be all the better.

As soon as she could, she politely excused herself and left the group. By that time of day, the sun was sinking low, painting the sky in hues of amber and violet. She knew the boat would be arriving soon. She made her way back to the ministry to grab Rory and the two of them walked to the docks together.

"You were gone most of the day today," Rory remarked.

Thepa nodded, glancing at the ground before looking up with a small smile. "I'm sorry. I had to take care of something personal."

Rory's brow furrowed. "Nothing serious, I hope?"

"No," Thepa replied, her smile widening just a little. "Just some selfishness... but I'm better now."

Without thinking, she gently hooked her arm around Rory's. For a moment, Rory tensed, a flicker of the discomfort she showed when things felt unfamiliar. But then, she relaxed, allowing Thepa to guide her down toward the docks.

When they got there, Thepa could see the boat arriving in the distance. They waited about twenty more minutes for the boat to make port and for a plank to be lowered for a walkway. As the people started to debark from the boat, she pointed them out for Rory's benefit.

"Look, there they are," she said softly. "Tash and Zuna are leading the way. You might not remember them yet, but don't worry." She paused as her gaze moved to the next figure. "And that's Wilran, a cleric like you. After her there is your foster brother Draco and...oh!"

Trailing behind Draco was Einkidi, visibly pregnant and waddling her way down the plank with a beaming smile. The moment she reached Rory, Einkidi enveloped her in a tight, joyful hug, utterly oblivious to Rory's awkwardness.

"Rory! You're going to be an auntie!" Einkidi announced, her excitement bubbling over.

Rory, blushing fiercely, awkwardly returned the hug. Einkidi, of course, was relentless.

"Auntie Rory! Auntie Rory!" she teased. "I just know you're going to teach him all kinds of mischief—but please, for my sake, only use it against his father." She winked playfully as she patted her belly.

"He?" Draco and Thepa echoed in surprise, exchanging bewildered looks.

Einkidi simply shrugged, her confidence unshaken. "I've got a feeling it's a 'he.'"

Rory cleared her throat, clearly flustered. "I'm... sorry. I'm guessing you must be Einkidi, but I don't remember you... or your youngling."

Einkidi, unfazed, smiled brightly. "That's alright! You'll get to know us again soon enough. Though I'd be very impressed if you already knew him. I didn't even know about him until a few days ago."

"What?!" Thepa blurted, taken aback.

Einkidi laughed, her carefree attitude infectious. "Long story! We'll talk about it over dinner. I'm starving!"

Thepa, shaking off her surprise, turned to the rest of the group. "Alright, let's call it a night. The five of you can take the evening off. There are rooms ready for you at the Ministry of Venya. Yenry, you know the place, right?" Yenry gave a nod. "Great. You're all dismissed. We'll meet in the commons tomorrow morning."

The five of them left and Thepa turned back to Draco, Einkidi, and Rory. Einkidi was still deep in conversation about baby names, her enthusiasm unstoppable, while Draco and Rory exchanged helpless glances, both clearly wishing they were anywhere but stuck in that particular discussion.

"Where are we eating?" Thepa asked in an attempt to change the subject.

Einkidi rested a hand on her belly, absently rubbing it as she spoke. "I need food for two, so how about that noodle place across the docks? Hun, why don't you and Rory go ahead and order something for us? I don't think my patience will hold out otherwise. Plus, it'll give you two a chance to catch up."

Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly uncertain. "You sure you don't need my—"

"Thepa's here. She can help if I need it," Einkidi interrupted with a gentle wave of her hand.

Draco gave a nod, though still hesitant, and set off with Rory, the two of them disappearing down the dockside path. Thepa and Einkidi lingered back, giving them some space before Einkidi turned, her smile widening.

"Hey girl."

Thepa was floored, her frustration and Rory's situation forgotten. "Hey girl? That's what you're going start with? I just saw you six months ago. You look like you're going to pop any minute now. You didn't think it was important enough to tell me last time?"

Einkidi rolled her eyes, ignoring the sharpness in Thepa's tone. "Like I said, I didn't know until a few days ago. I didn't calibrate the polymorph potion for another person and I just assumed the weird side effects I was feeling were from prolonged exposure to the potion or transformation. Plus, by my count, I think I have another month. Remember halfling biology isn't the same as satyr. We don't need to cook as long."

Thepa rolled her own eyes in response, "way to paint a picture for me. Perhaps next time I'll get you a canvas and a brush."

Einkidi smiled at the jib, but it quickly turned as she watched Rory and Draco fad into the distance. "I take it our presence didn't exactly work miracles." She said, her tone matter-of-fact.

Thepa sighed, shaking her head. "No. She's still... not herself." After a pause, she added, "Did the team fill you in?"

"Tash gave me the basics," Einkidi said, her face softening. "But Wilran told me everything. She reminds me of Rory, in some ways. Well, minus the sense of humor."

Thepa let out a frustrated breath. "I'm starting to lose hope. What if Rory never comes back to us?"

Einkidi picked up her pace slightly, moving with a determination Thepa hadn't expected. "It's possible," Einkidi admitted, "but I have one more idea."

Curiosity sparked, and Thepa quickened her step to keep up. "I'll try anything at this point."

"You've been focusing on external triggers, haven't you?" Einkidi asked. "People, places, objects—things tied to her memories."

Thepa nodded. "That's what the healers suggested. Familiar things to jog her mind."

"Have you considered using an internal trigger?"

Thepa blinked, puzzled. "Internal? What could we use that's not tied to her memories?"

Einkidi stopped for a moment, then raised a finger. A small flame flickered to life at its tip. "Her magic."

Thepa's eyes widened. "Her magic? But isn't that granted by her goddess?"

"Magic can come to us in a few different forms," Einkidi explained. " I learned mine through books, Rory's is gifted by her goddess, and people like Julius can manifest it through their voice. But here's the catch—magic only works if you already have an affinity for it. You can try all you want, but if it's not in your blood, it's just words on a page, prayers to the unseen, or music in your heart."

Thepa listened intently, then thought about the way her own skill with the bow came naturally to her. If that is the case, was there anyone else in her bloodline that had ever used one? Surely not her mother.

"I suppose that makes sense," Thepa mused. "When I first picked up a bow, it felt second nature. Like it was meant for me."

"Really? That might mean Saintians have affinity for different things," Einkidi mused.

As they neared the noodle stand, Thepa spotted Draco and Rory sitting at a table. Draco was wolfing down noodles with reckless abandon, while Rory stared, mildly disgusted. The look made Thepa smile.

That's my friend.

"If we're going to use magic to unlock her memories," Thepa asked, "where do we start?"

Einkidi waved to Draco, who had just noticed them approaching. "I believe the best place to start is with a spell that's linked to whatever's blocking her. We need something tied to the barrier itself, though I'm not sure what that one might be."

Thepa knew exactly what spell they should use, but that would mean a little bit of travel. Though the idea of taking Rory out in the open made her uneasy, but if Einkidi was right, she knew the best spell for Rory to experience would be the teleportation spell, the same spell she had been casting when left behind.

It was time for them to make a trip to an ionic crystal.