It was a ghostly figure, made of loose rags and billowing mist, formed vaguely into a horsebeast. Where it floated, the cold was so bitter that the grass shattered. Its eyes were like bottomless pits; Meri shuddered beside him as they swept the clearing, slow and menacing. Then it exhaled, and billows of the same cold, dark, glittering mist that made up the monster poured forth all around them. The sound was just awful, like rusty swords scraping against rock-hard ice. As the mist swirled, a drowsy haze fell over the clearing. All the sounds of the wood slowly faded, muffled like their ears were covered in pillows. Timothy’s brand started to activate, but he clamped down just in time.

The cold grew so bitter that Meri pushed up against his cloak for warmth. Timothy struggled to keep his limbs still. The cold felt like it was sucking out what little strength he had. Death of cold. His brain felt like it was floating in honey. Again and again the Nightmare scanned the clearing, trying to smell their emotions. More breath, more nightmare mist. A comfortable weight pressed down on all Timothy’s senses. His eyelids began to feel like pebbles, then rocks, then tombstones, weighing down more and more. Timothy bit the back of his hand hard to keep from falling asleep. All he could do for Meri was grip her arm tightly.

Then, it moved on. Meri all but fainted next to him as heat slowly returned to the world. The sleeping curse’s grip loosened. Timothy didn't relax just yet, though. Nightmares were smart. For one, then another tense minutes, they waited, shivering as their energy returned. Finally, the witch felt just safe enough to let his charge up, letting the shield vanish back into him.

"What was that?" Meri was shaking all over.

"A Nightmare." The witch bit his lip to control his breathing. “We’re lucky they’re almost blind." He helped her to her feet. She was kind of unsteady, and he didn't blame her for it one bit. "Man, I hate those things."

“I thought you liked monsters…”

“There’s no talkin’ to a Nightmare.” Timothy shuddered. “And the things they can do to you…”

"Yeah, like makin’ you cold!" To his surprise, Meri was actually smiling again. "How'd you stop it from seeing us?"

Timothy started walking again before answering. "Filter shield. They feel emotions. They can see a li’l, but their eyes are better at picking out auras than bodies. If we’d fallen asleep, we’d have never woke up.” The horrid dreams they caused were bad enough, but they fed on the life force of sleepers directly through’em!

"Cool! Well, I mean, not really good, but still! I've never seen one of them before."

"Be glad of that. They're nasty." He brushed himself off. "Ugh, we really woke up half the forest. We’re nowhere near the Mists.”

For a few moments, they walked in quiet.

"Y'know, my mom used to kill Nightmares."

Meri said it so matter-of-factly that Timothy almost said something flippant. Then his brain caught up with his ears. “I… what?”

Meri giggled. "My mom was a merc! She gave it up when she met my mama, though. It's also cuz she got run through by a nightmare lord, but I think mama was the big reason."

Timothy all but tripped over his own feet. There was a lot to unpack in that statement. And again, the little girl said it like she was talking about the weather or something. "No, really, what?" Nightmare Lords were horrible, awful monsters, the kind that great warriors feared. Timothy had thankfully never met one-- even his awful luck had its limits. When enough Nightmares gather, they struggle and begin to eat one another. The one left was the meanest, the deadliest, the darkest of all, and in absorbing their lessers they became something else. A greater spirit of fear itself, capable of commanding legions of fell beasts and spirits. The Lords themselves were terrifying even without their armies, though. Their blades could destroy the mortal spirit (though thankfully not the immortal soul.) They could force entire towns into cursed sleep, drinking of their lives. And their mere passing brought winter storms even in midsummer, destroying crops and killing the wilds. The Dark Dragon— his “patron”— had controlled several for his armies, and they were some of the most feared generals he had, causing devastation all across Strenel. The only generals who were more feared were the Blood Moon Witches.

And here Meri was nodding so fast her ears were flapping, all at the thought of killing one! "Uh huh! She got him, and his army, too! It was intense!” Pride burst through in her voice. “We tell the story every year at a festival in town. Twenty-four years ago, a Nightmare Lord rose from the Deepshadow, born from th’ nightmares who got away from Lusundra. Their forces swarmed a buncha towns, trying to put everyone to sleep! We held them off at the border, but it was getting bad. But then my mom appeared, called by Elder Rankin, an’ her team, too— the Red Suns!”

Meri stopped walking to tell the story better. “There was a crazy long fight, and the Nightmare Lord made it stay nighttime around town for days with its Nightbringer aura! But my mom dueled him one on one when he busted through the town’s guys, and she punched a hole right through his chest—“ she punched her palm— “an’ he died! She got real hurt, but they won!”

‘She got real hurt’ could mean a lot of things when a Nightmare Lord’s involved. Timothy shuddered. "Yikes."

And Meri was again way too eager. "It's true! My mom got stuck in town because she couldn't even move with her spirit busted. So she stayed with my mama and fell in love, an’ adopted my biggest sister, and eventually made the rest of us!"

Timothy blushed at that one. "Oh, um, I see. You, um, said your other mom's a baker, right?"

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"Uh-huh! She owns the town bakery. She's really good! Her bread's the tastiest around." Meri licked her lips, and Timothy wondered how much dragons needed to eat. "She says that's how she caught my mom." Meri paused. "What's your mom like?"

Bad question, but he wasn’t gonna tell her that. “Oh, uh, she was a blacksmith.”

Meri may have been a kid, but she wasn’t stupid. Her face fell. “Oh. Um, sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay. It was a long time ago.” It still hurt, though. “She was a good mom. Tough, but kind.” The little dragoness seemed distraught, so Timothy hastily changed the subject. "Anyway, uh… you mentioned having sisters earlier, right?"

Meri took a moment to rally. "Um, yeah! I have a big brother and two big sisters. Two helions and a slime!”

“A slime?” Timothy blinked. Adopted like me, huh? There’s probably a story there…

“Yep! She’s the oldest. She runs the bakery with my mom! Her name’s Maisie. She’s cool! Sleepy, but fast upstairs. An’ my big brother Mat’s a journeyman healer, so he’s usually at the healing house in town. He’s quiet and kinda scary looking, but he’s really nice to me.”

“Nice!” Given his own weak attempts at both, bakers and healers both merited a good chunk of respect. “And your other sister?”

“She’s called Valencia, but we just call her V. She works at the bakery, and also the town watch! She’s tough! She works out a lot, so she’s got huge muscles! She an’I listen Fireballs on the radio together!”

Timothy wondered just how big was big to a dragon. It took him a minute for the last bit to catch up. “…Wait, fireballs? And what’s a radio?.”

Meri’s giggle from earlier turned into a full blown laugh. “Not the explosion kind! And the radio’s…” They were getting into the same territory as their broom talk from earlier, and Meri seemed to realize it. “Wait, you don’t know what a radio is?”

“I guess not?” Timothy awkwardly rubbed his arm. “Sorry…”

Timothy listened for at least an hour as Meri went from explaining radio (some kinda magic that played sound over great distances? Or something?) to explaining the plot of the last few episodes of Punch Judy, Muscle Wizard! Which was apparently a show she listened to on the thing. Time passed as she explained about kidnapped princesses, and evil wizards, and a heroine who solved all her problems by punching them very, very hard.

The outside world is weird, Timothy thought.

After a while, a thought hit Meri, and she turned to Timothy with a confused look. ”Hey, Timothy? How come you didn’t just beat up the Nightmare? Or the cat things earlier?”

Timothy frowned. “I didn’t have to. The ‘Ganths can be reasoned with.”

“But what about the Nightmare?” She pressed. “Witches are good at, like, cursing stuff, right?” She sounded genuinely curious. “I mean, that’s how it is on the radio and all.”

“Ah, but that would be a very, very even fight. Not good.”

“Huh?”

“You never want to fight someone on their terms unless you have no choice.” The wolf lectured. “And especially not fairly— in a fair, even fight, you’re gonna walk away injured even if you walk away.”

“Huh… I feel like my sis would disagree.” Meri frowned. “She’s always sayin’ she wants a real even match someday.”

Huh. Sounds like some of the duel-chasers back home. “Well, she’s also a huge dragon, y’said. I ain’t.” Meri giggled, and he smiled wryly. “Anyway, I’ll protect us if I have to. You just focus on keeping those ears out.”

There were plenty of monsters. Between Meri crashing through the woods on a broom, and Timothy having set off a brilliant explosion, the woods were good and stirred up. That’s what happens when everyone’s hungry. They found themselves falling quiet often as Timothy snuck them past monsters, ran them across monster territories, and hid them in bushes and such. It made Timothy nervous— they were losing a lot of time, and if the monsters were already this rowdy today, the night would be awful.

So as the day went on, Meri’s cheer and chatter began to fall off. All this walking through the rough forest lands took its toll on the little girl, and by evening she was panting and huffing with every step. Timothy wasn't doing much better. Between the thin rations and trying to keep a little girl calm and safe, he was getting worn out. They were both heatproof, but the dry air sucked the water right out of them. They had managed to sneak in a few short breaks, but with night falling soon, they had no time to dally. He couldn't see the sun, but he knew that soon the worst monsters would be coming out to hunt.

The Deepshadow was huge, dense, and pathless, and this would have been a rough walk at the best of times. And with the witch and the dragoness both having started late, tired, and hungry, this really didn't count. Timothy did his best to keep his cool, but suddenly there was a very real chance they’d have to find somewhere to set up wards and camp.

"W-wish I hadn't busted up my broom." Meri wheezed, leaning heavy on her staff. "Can we take another break, please?"

Timothy bit his lip. “The monsters are about to wake up, Meri. If you're not gone by then, we're gonna be on the menu."

“Oh… okay…” she gasped out. Her limbs were shaking. “My legs and feet hurt…”

His heart just about broke. "I'm sorry, Meri. I-I have a healing potion in my bag, and that could help, but that's all we've got." They didn't have time for him to try and heal her sore muscles himself, especially given how weak a healer he was.

But even though she had kept walking with no complaints-- and he really did respect that-- the poor kid's pace had slowed almost to a stop. It hurt to see the cheery girl so beat down. And it was way too familiar. His curse brands writhed and itched. His stomach growled viciously in accord with hers. This couldn't go on.

“Alright, stop." Meri fell to her knees with a faint cry. Timothy wished he could collapse too, but he knew he had to keep them going. He reached into the bottom of his bag, and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped clay flask of potion. Wishing there was enough for him to get some too, he pulled the cork, and passed it to Meri. She chugged it in one swallow. As she sat there panting, Timothy made up his mind. He unslung his bag, rolled his shoulders, and got low next to her. “Here's what we're gonna do. Get on my back, Meri."

The dragoness didn't need telling twice. She gratefully wrapped her arms around his neck and clung tight with her legs and wings. Instantly Timothy stifled a grunt and wobbled under her weight. The dragoness was pretty slim, but she had to weigh more than he did! Not that he was exactly a heavyweight, but shadows! Not that he was gonna tell her that; he had a lot of rough edges, but it would take a real ass to insult a little girl's weight to her face. And anyways, it was probably a dragon thing, so… He tied her onto his back with his bag straps, took up both walking sticks, and slowly, agonizingly got walking once more.

“T-thanks, Timothy.” she panted.

“It’s okay.” He grunted. “We've gotta be getting close by now. Just make my job easy and hold on tight. The potion should kick in soon.”

Having two sticks helped, because by now he was really, really depending on them. Even with them, his pace was slow and plodding. And the forest night as beginning to fall. His stomach was an empty, shrunken sack at this point. He was used to being footsore and achy, but even he was gonna hit a limit soon.