We all get up and begin moving eastward about an hour after the sun rises and warms the land. But first, I must pick up the canvas I placed earlier and shove it back into my backpack. Today is a bit warmer than the past week or so, so none of us are wearing our coats as we trek through the sandy dunes. And gradually, as we move, the dunes become larger.

Initially, the sand was merely covering the ground lightly, like back when we were near Harmony Town, just blowing in the wind. But now, the sand is more plentiful and the air drier. With parched lips, we try to conserve water while we move up and over small hills of sand. Esther and Earl have the most issue with how unathletic they are. Esther because she's still a young child and Earl… Earl because he's Earl.

The sand slows us down considerably, and I am forced to put the Bloody Palm deep into my pack to try and reduce as much hunger as possible it forces upon me. Without its healing ability to numb and assuage my recent wounds, my ankle only grows to hurt more and more as the day passes, and I refrain from speaking to not exacerbate my raw throat, which has partially healed.

The others mimic my silence, but Elizabeth stays close to me for most of the day, only separated when I chase down a white jackrabbit with two black-furred tails. I heard it moving amongst the sand in the distance because I constantly circulated a small Ether throughout my ears and eyes to increase my awareness. Unfortunately, it tires me and gives me a pounding headache after a few hours, so I drop it and wait for it to disappear before starting it back up.

The first day in the Bonedunes ends without much fanfare as we sit at a fire like last night and roast the jackrabbit. Earl tries to talk more, but Leonard and Elizabeth tell him to be quiet to save water. There are very few plants where we are, so I let the others take the remainder of the water as I drain the blood from the jackrabbit into multiple canteens before we cook it.

I do so in hopes that it will give me a bit of energy and water while simultaneously possibly satiating the Bloody Palm. I mean, it is called the Bloody Palm, after all. And while I sit taking small sips of iron-tanged blood before my nightly treatment of my Ether saturation, I remember I never actually sensed the Ether inside the palm. And by the Devil is that blood awful. Nonetheless, with my right hand fully cleared from last night's treatment, I can surely do so now without worrying about it backfiring on me.

So, I sit upon a large rock just at the edge of where we decided to camp for the night and pull out the Bloody Palm. Then, I close my eyes and send a small probe of Ether through the fingertips of my right hand into the pale human palm that rests within it.

The instant my Ether enters the palm and my mind follow through with it, I am bombarded with information, foreign Ether, and a deep and almost mournful hunger. I hold on to this link for a moment before the feeling of hunger becomes mine. I drop it the second I become hungry simply from touching it, but not without results.

The information speared into my mind is plentiful and helpful despite the uncomfortable feeling of the foreign Ether entering my hand with a slight sting and the yearning for satiation that overcame me. Within, I sensed a powerful two-sided Sigil, but one of the sides held much more power and depth. And a word appears in my mind, which I assume to be its Sigil name. Bloodthirster. It seems as though Bloody Palm is just a name based on its Sigil.

The weaker side of the Sigil I could easily recognize it's Ether, for I had felt a bit of it when I was in the vault with Edmund. One of the sides within held the Comanche Sigil. Which is said to increase senses and give more depth and versatility to them. I can see how this makes one hungrier in a weird twisted way that artifacts are spoken to have.

But the other, the more detailed and vibrant side of the Sigil, is incomprehensible to me as a whole. With the short amount of time, I cannot decipher what the Sigils are within. What I do get from the Sigil is a mix of three feelings; an overpowering sense of bloody hunger, a twisted connection to the living, and unwieldy strength.

I can guess what each might be individually, but I'll have to discuss it with Earl to be sure. He's better at this type of brainstorming than I am. My current guesses, however, are that the second large Sigil within the Bloody Palm is some mutated form of Occultist, Sexton, or Abbot.

I'm very likely to be wrong for the last two. The only one of the hard-to-understand three I'm relatively confident on is the Occultist, as those, at least in my experience so far, tend to lean towards blood, flesh, and the like.

And then, I figure that the connection to living things makes the Sigil possibly the Sexton as those focus on spirits and the undead. But wait. That doesn't make much sense, either. I don't know, but I will stick with that as a possibility for now.

The other possibility in my mind is Abbot since I remember the manuals mentioned that Abbot focuses on vitality and vigor, even going so far as to give them a special kind of Ether, specifically called Vigor. It would fit with the energy that the Bloody Palm restores, but also still twisted in its weird ways.

So, to confirm my guess, I go over to Earl just out of curiosity. He's currently reading or rereading; I'm not entirely sure since all he does is look at them, the hunter manuals that Edmund gave me.

"Hey, Earl, I got a question."

He looks up at me, slightly annoyed but still willing to help.

"Yeah, what's up, Wyatt."

I sit down next to him and pull out the desiccated Bloody Palm. He looks at it quite uncomfortably. I've noticed that no one really seems to like it. I mean, I don't either, but they all look disgusted when they see it. Even Earl, who loves to learn about anything.

"So, I finally was able to get a look at the Sigils within the Bloody Palm, and I'm a little confused with what I saw."

This subject piques his interest as Earl sits up and puts down the pieces of paper he is enjoying.

"Uh, uh. Go on, I'm listening."

"When I was looking into it, I noticed that there were two different sides to the Sigil, which is hard to imagine now that I think about it. What shape only has two sides? Anyway, one side was smaller than the other, with less emotion and energy. So I identified that one as Comanche, but I'm unsure of the others."

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Earl looks at me. Waits a moment as if to check if I'm serious, then snickers. Almost doubling over and snorting with laughter. I let him laugh for a moment in case it's something he just thought of, but after a few seconds, I grow frustrated.

"Hey, why are you laughing? I'm asking you a question, Earl!"

He looks up at me and wipes a tear from his eyes that fell during his amusement. Then he takes a page from his notes and hands them to me.

"Have you seriously never read through these, Wyatt? I know not everyone is like me and enjoys reading, and you, in particular, dislike reading, but come on, man. This stuff is important. What if you got an artifact and had no idea what it did. What if it was just a reusable stick of dynamite instead of something that healed? You'd never know unless you could identify the Sigils within and what their powers may be. You'd just end up getting yourself killed."

I try to speak up and say how I have been reading here or there.

"I have been-"

He cuts me off and continues.

"No, you haven't. I haven't seen you read from these things since you let me look through them."

I go quiet. He's right. I've just been letting him learn all this stuff and regurgitate it when I need it, like an information-based pack mule. I feel a bit guilty, but I really do hate reading. Earl does continue his rant, though, despite my silence.

"Information is power, Wyatt. And I hate to say this, but until you get that into your thick skull, you will lose more people. You cannot protect people from what you do not understand."

I let this sink in for a moment. He's right. I need to be learning more. I hate it. I really do. I'd preferably move about and practice with Ether or fight a mountain lion than read a page. But if it stops people from dying, then, yeah… I guess I will. But that can come later. I'd like to know the answer to my question.

"Okay, I promise to read more, Earl, but you never answered my question. So what's going on with the two sides? And can you help me figure out the Sigils within it?"

Earl sighs and then shakes his head. Then before speaking, he pats the dust-covered ground next to him, indicating for me to sit beside him.

"Come here, I'll tell you, my friend, who clearly wishes he was illiterate like most of the world. You're incredibly fortunate your mother could read. Few men can, and fewer women can. Normally only the rich or the highly intelligent learn. One from boredom, the other from determination. Y'know that Leonard can't read? And I doubt Elizabeth can either. Unless her family was wealthy before the... thing. It's likely that Esther will never learn to read either."

Damn... I didn't know any of that. I always thought that most learned how to read. Now I feel like a bit of an ass, consistently disregarding that skill. And so, I sit beside Earl as he flips through pages and goes to a specific one titled Sigil Growth. Then he explains a bit of it to me.

"Whenever a new Sigiled is gained, it attaches to the previous Sigils, changing their overall effect, name, and ideology. This goes up to three unfused at a time. When a Sigil of any kind, regardless of what creature, being, or thing possesses it, reaches another Sigil, they compress much more deeply than when it is just attached to the person's previous Sigils. This causes the Sigil within the person's core to strengthen its effects with focused growth, becoming a more robust Sigil. This is called Sigil Evolution for those that involve all of the same Sigil and Sigil Mutation for those that involve different kinds of Sigils. For example, if you took three more of your Philosopher Sigil, it would evolve, but if you took even just one different one, it would mutate."

Earl takes a pause, looking at me to see if I understand. And I think I do. It's like when a triangle of Sigils is put together, they compress into a single one. But why? And does it do anything? So I pose my questions to Earl.

"Is there any benefit to Sigil Evolution or Mutation? And why does it happen?"

He pauses, glances at his notes quickly, then turns back to me, his damn almost eidetic memory kicking in.

"There are benefits to both. Evolution makes your Sigils more focused and powerful than a Mutation, but Mutations tend to be rarer and harder to predict. They also commonly have a variety of powers. So, like your Bloody Palm. I'd guess it has more than just the heal using Ether and the passive heal that makes you hungry, but I wouldn't know for sure unless I had Ether myself. And the reason it occurs is said to be in preparation for when one reaches the Wondrous Stage and their whole self is remade. Other than that vague explanation, not much is said."

Okay. So, would it be better for me to stick with my Striving Philosopher because it's already an unconfirmed Sigil? It'd still be rare but also have that increased power due to being an evolution, not a mutation. But at that same time, rarity would be an issue. Just because it's not even confirmed to exist makes me suspicious that more will appear for me to continue along this path.

"So, what Sigil do you think were mutated together within the Bloody Palm? I felt profound hunger, a weird connection to living things, and unwieldy lopsided strength when I searched the, I guess, mutated part of the Sigil. At first, I just thought it was a weird form of Occultist, Sexton, or Abbot. "

Earl puts his hand on his chin and pushes up his glasses, indicating he's thinking intensely. Then, as usual, he consults his notes before speaking on matters of great import.

"I think you might be on the money with Occultist and Abbot. The profound hunger and the connection to the living fit those two, respectively, to a tee. Occultist commonly ties in with blood, flesh, heart, brains the whole ilk, but it could dive into hunger when combined with something like Freak, which gives immense strength to its user while also making them hungry and needing to eat a ridiculous amount as you do. Combine those two with an Abbot, and I see how it can make you heal rapidly passively, incredibly hungry, and the ability to funnel Ether into the palm to heal using blood. There should be one more part that you haven't figured out yet. The Comanche Sigil. What it does."

I nod and think momentarily, remembering when it was used during the fight against the Hunters. A gigantic slush of warmth flowed through my body before my strength returned. Then a ridiculous amount of blood came out of me. That was its ability to funnel Ether to quickly heal with blood.

Then after the fight showcased the hunger and passive healing from the palm, but what else was there?

Edmund gave it to-

That's it! He never gave it to me! Edmund placed it on me when I didn't notice, and it sunk into my body, waiting. Waiting for an injury. Is that what the Comanche within does? It senses an injury or near death? I bring this thought up to Earl, leaving out most of the actual fight, and he takes a bit to think before responding.

"It's certainly possible that the Bloody Palm can lay dormant inside a creature waiting to heal them. It could have also just been one of your teacher's abilities. If it truly did come from the Bloody Palm, there is likely to be a side effect to this. No ability comes without consequence when it comes to artifacts. An example is I'm sure the Ether needed to activate the bloody healing is immense, and you already know the side effect of the passive regeneration it gives."

Hmmm. What could its downside be? I don't think it's a consequence to those who the palm is dormant within, as I never felt a single thing that alluded to its presence while it was inactive. Maybe it gets overworked and has to recover after something like that?

It effectively brought me back from the brink of death, so indeed, that was difficult for it to do, no matter how much Ether was stored in it. The palm has been relatively dormant for a while but gradually recovering a bit of its flexibility, with the skin no longer as wrinkled.

I ask Earl what he thinks.

"Do you suppose that the Bloody Palm coming out from being dormant only upon the brink of death makes it consume all its energy and be forced to rest? Unable to be used with more Ether to heal?"

Earl nods instantly, and his whole mood rises. He loves to figure out puzzles, which is evident to us all by how many questions he asks. I suppose this is only another kind of puzzle for him.

"That must be it! You only didn't notice this because you have been unable to use Ether to inspect it until now because of your condition! Try to make it go dormant! I want to see how it works. Not just that, but if we ever get in another fight, it'll be good to know you won't go down easy."

Earl gets close to my face with his and the Bloody Palm as he urges me to use it. I lean away from him because he invades my personal space.

"Woah, chill out, Earl. Give me a second to figure out how to use it. I've never manually activated an artifact before."

He scoots away from me but is still exceedingly interested in what I'm about to do. I'm unsure what to do, but I don't want to ask him again if he gets close like that. It's just weird.

So, attempting to begin making it "Dormant" or whatever, I sit with my legs crossed and the Bloody Palm in my lap. Then, without putting my mind into the palm, I funnel Ether into it.

At first, nothing happens, and I look at Earl in confusion. Finally, he tries to give me some advice, and I take it.

"Maybe try using more Ether? But, as I said, it probably takes a lot to make it go dormant. And maybe you should think of what you want it to do. Or else maybe something else will happen."

I follow his lead as I push even more Ether in the stream into the Bloody Palm, And I try to focus on the aspect of the palm blending into my skin into a bloody mark. But, unfortunately, it still doesn't activate immediately, either. And so, for the next half an hour, I funnel a piercing headache-inducing stream of Ether into the Bloody Palm.

It takes so long that even Earl begins to get bored, just laying down with his chin on his fist, watching me and yawning. I keep pushing more Ether into it even as the headache makes my vision shake and my eyes water.

But eventually, just before I give up and go to bed, I feel a change in the palm happen before my very eyes.