All eyes turn to Lana, who doesn't deny Remny's claim. Our cleric isn't a cleric?

"Remny is right," says Lana. "I would appreciate it if you all keep a close lid on this. I am not a cleric. I am an illusionist. The cleric class is my current illusion. And if you must know Bones, I, like many of the people of Anvil and Lackia, for that matter, am a cleric of Selene."

"Why hide your class?" Classic case of thinking before speaking. "You don't have to answer that. I figured it out."

"It does me no good if everyone knows I create illusions."

"Is any of this real?"

"No, but does that matter?" Lana responds and gives Bones his own wink. I read the illusionist's energy as her classes change from cleric, illusionist, and paladin to minstrel. With each class change, her appearance alters to fit the needed essence cultivation. The changes are nowhere near as drastic as Becky's, who changes into a new person. Lana's changes include body size, shape, hair, and eye color. She settles back into her cleric class after switching between the four.

"Who's Selene?" I ask.

"Selene is the goddess who captured the moon to bring light to the invading dark. To believe in Selene is to believe in a better future, even if all hope is dim," says Gene. "We had many practitioners pray to the goddess for help." Her words falter and fade.

"Selene is the ever-living underdog. She fights the dark every night, knowing she can't win. It doesn't matter. The goddess casts her light for all to see. Sometimes, it's bright enough that night is clear as day. Other times, she can barely be noticed. Even on the darkest nights, though, Selene is always there," says Remny. She shifts closer to Gene and wraps her arm around her. The frailty of Gene's clone is evidence she is just as much Gene as the original Gene.

"Your people have a similar goddess," says Lana, leading Bones and me back into the bamboo forest, away from the tender moment. They call her Mahina. However, in the last few decades, worship of Mahina on Mauna Island has fallen as the rise of the Deliverer has grown. The Deliverer is the Emperor of Alderi. He saved the island people from the tyranny of the Highland King, allowing your people a better chance at cultivation."

"Sounds like a saint. What's his deal?"

"The Deliverer believes he must keep the world safe. He is military-focused and uses all the nations he liberates to increase his army. The few protect the many is his creed, and many have bought into the idea. Currently, their focus is on the unification and protection of Agoria; hence, Anvileers were driven out—at least the few who didn't want to join a warring empire.

"The followers of Selene…" says Bones.

"That did have a significant influence over the divide. Some are loyal to the hidden king, who believe hiding on a lost island is what their king wants them to do."

We backtrack through the bamboo another mile before we change direction and move north, keeping parallel to the mountain range. I cover our tracks when Gene and Remny catch up to us. It's Gene's idea to go north. Though it takes us closer to the forsaken, it should keep us away from the major towns of the Wilds when we cross over the mountains.

Night finally hits after what feels like another two days of trekking through the grass sea. We sleep, and when we wake, it is still dark. The massive moon here appears as a bright, colorful blue ball in the sky, roughly ten times larger than our moon. It's simply magnificent. I wonder if the people here believe in a Selene or an AO, for that matter. Maybe their religion is just the All-Mother.

Life is a lot calmer at night. We no longer feel like we are being looked for. In fact, there is little to no activity at night, at least according to our energy readings and perception checks. We are still cautious but a little more open to conversation.

"Why are you so good at cutting trees?" Asks Remny. The lycan now helps in the efforts of bamboo slicing now that I'm much better at restoring our damage and more than keeping up with our pace of travel. I've now taken the lead, allowing our cutters a chance to rest, though they don't need it. Mostly, they watch me closely and try to replicate my technique. As much as I try to teach them, I don't know what I'm doing differently from them and struggle to pass the knowledge on. Remny's question, on the other hand, I'm sure I can answer.

"That's easy," I say, full of bullish confidence. "Before I arrived at Wolvsden, I was a first-class lumberjack. I slayed goliath and sapling trees without discrimination. It was my duty to provide wood to those in need, and many were in need of good wood."

"What…! No one is going to sensor that?" Bones looks gobsmacked. "Not even an ear muff. Drifter, create some headbands. We have innocent ones among us."

"Bones." This time, Gene does the chiding. "Let him finish." Not the direction I thought the chiding was going to go.

"I cut all the wood in the land until it was barren. Industry was booming. The growers were happy, crafters were living at an all-time high, and builders were building. I, however, was not pleased. With no more wood to cut, I no longer had a purpose. That is until I heard of a legendary island filled with untapped potential. Like any eager lumberjack worth their weight, I braved challenges and reached a new world.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I found a sea of never-ending trees. A green sea so vast oceans could be swallowed in its depth. At once, I got to work. One tree, dozens, hundreds, thousands of trees were laid low at my hands. The thirst was unsatisfied, and I continued to harvest. There was a curse on the land, though. The more I took from it, the more it took from me. I cut and cut until I was no more. The sea was a barren desert, and I was but a wisp of myself.

"When I perished, the curse remained. Slowly, life knitted back together until one tree grew back, never to be cut down again and never able to escape the desert."

"Did you just call yourself a tree? Oh man, I can't wait to tell Cru and Roxi about this."

"I thought it was pretty good. Most likely the best backstory I've created yet."

"It was good. There are some holes, though," says Lana. I didn't think she could hear me from the back. "Mostly, why are you good with swords and not axes?"

"I used a machete."

"No good lumberjack would trade an ax for a blade," says Bones. The two are colluding again.

"I agree with Bones and Lana," says Gene. "It's a good story if you overlook most details and ignore facts."

"Okay, Granny." Remny looks as betrayed as I feel with my backstory rejection. "How do you explain his uncanny ability to cut sticks?"

I'm more than just a stick cutter – I want to say. Gene beats me to the punch.

"This is easy to explain. Drifter had plenty of preparation time. His pockets are full of rituals prepared to cut down trees. Ever since Drifter got Gloom, he has been stocking his pockets. He probably has enough rituals in his storage space to turn this entire forest into a grassland. Watch him cut through the stalks. Each time he does, he laces his blades with ritual salts. Our man has been grifting us since the start."

"Gene, how do you manage to be so full of confidence when you are so ignorantly wrong?" Bones takes up the defense for me. "Is there even a ritual for slicing trees?"

"I am positive there is."

"Do you know it?"

"I can probably create it."

"And Jim?"

Gene gives me a good look before responding to Bones' hanging question. She does some calculations, sizes me up again, and then responds. "No."

"Ha. I knew it. Jim's ritual threats are nothing more than parlor tricks," says Bones. He punches the air three times in celebration. It's excessive, but it's Bones. "Listen here, and I'll tell you a tragic tale. Sure, everyone knows about the hero who slayed the demon in the Deep Dark Woods. People don't know that before the hero, there was the villain."

"Hey," I try to interject. I know I've done some things, but villain... antihero at worst. If Cru wasn't on our team, I'd say I'm a shoo-in for Molly Green or whatever the legendary heroes are called.

"No, no. Let the skeleton speak," says Lana.

"T'am wasn't always a tree slayer. He once tried to live a peaceful life by the river's edge, feasting on stick-thumped bunnies and weeds. It wasn't much, but for our lifelong leisurer, it was more than enough. That is until his one love stumbled into his life and showed him the inadequacies of his ways.

"Desire, like never before, burned in the budding duo. Meager meals became feasts. Life was full of luxury. T'am was at his utmost happiest. His lover was not entirely satisfied. She needed more than a life of caves and a bowl of dried meat. She wanted adventure.

"Torn between his two loves, T'am chose to follow his heart. Deep into the dense woods, they plunged. With knives and axes, they cut through monsters, trees, and beasts. The mistress led them deeper and deeper into the woods. Consumed by the passion of battle lust, the two left a wake of death in their path. The mistress was never satisfied, and T'am could never leave her side. Hand in hand, they fought until one day, the forest fought back.

"Thousands of spiders swarmed the butchers of the forest. T'am fought like a dragon to keep his lover safe. Every time he tried to pull her back, though, she kept pushing deeper into the ranks of the spiders. Eventually, enough thread was spread that the mistress was captured, and the spiders dragged her away.

"T'am fought fiercely to save her. He wasn't enough. He could not kill fast enough. Plenished by the slaughter, the forest feasted on the mana and came to life. It took pleasure in knowing the source of its pain was at an end. It poured out of the earth to close the way, separating T'am and his lover. However, the trees became greedy with the mistress now in the forest's grasp. They discovered a lust like no other. Roots and branches wrapped tightly around the source of their desire, entombing the mistress and forever keeping T'am away from his love.

"Bitter and broken, T'am cursed the woods and vowed never to stop slaying trees until his love was free. Drifter has been an enemy of the tree ever since. His vendetta gives him a natural boost against plant-based opponents.

"I like that." Lana claps her hands. "Nice and edgy."

"It was good," Gene agrees. "Le is a romantic at heart. I suggest all of you avoid walking the beach with him at sunset."

"Oh?" Lana piques her ears in interest. I knew it. She's a member of the Brunch Cult. One whisper of drama, and she runs to the table like a wolf. However, I eye down the actual wolf among us. I'm not ashamed of my beach time decisions. Perhaps I'd say yes again in similar circumstances. I'm just not ready for others to know about my propensity to accept romantic proposals. Fortunately, the wolf backs down. Gene can be a purveyor of drama, but she isn't cruel. I give her a grateful nod, and she smiles back in response.

"I think we should make our camp for the night here," says Gene. I thought we'd walked only a short time, but the blue moon had already traveled a quarter of the sky. "We need to be ready to move when the time comes. When we rise, we make for the mountains."