Brindle watched Kyro rush to the Bramble with Mira and Kline with a feeling… of strange emotion. It was similar to the feeling he had when Yakana died, but he had experienced it when Kyro lived.

Kyro was his friend and had stayed loyal to him, even after all this time. And after sacrificing himself to protect Mira, somehow, Mira managed to save his life—and perhaps Khor’s, too.

Brindle examined Mira in a light he hadn’t considered up to that point. His relationship with her hadn’t changed. He was her guide and mentor, not a teacher. But he felt a slight indebtedness toward her. Perhaps he would gift her something special. But before that…

He summoned Salan, Real’s former guardian, stripped and optimized for transport within the lower domains.

Then, he created a link with Elana.

“Oh, so now he decides to speak,” Elana answered in lieu of a greeting. “You understand the Harvest is here, right?”

“Must you always be so dramatic?” Brindle asked with dry sarcasm.

“Brindle, the Harvest starts in less than 24 hours.”

“And it lasts for a week.”

“So…” she paused. “Are you saying you’ll do it?”

“On conditions.”

“What conditions?”

“On the condition that you organize the transfer—and no one’s left behind.”

“Brindle. Sending people there is the best gift we can give her. We have a chance to send vetted people—of our choice—to protect Mira. To teach her. To give her company. I know you can’t understand, but she’s lonely. Humans’ll go crazy if they’re alone too long.”

Brindle paused, reflecting on her words. Then he said: “The Bramble opens every year. If Mira wishes for guests, she will request them of her own choosing—and she will vet whomever she deems worthy. Until she asks you for your aid in finding guests, we will not attempt to control her life.”

He said “we” as a subtle threat. Elana was not his equal, and he had no problem making that clear.

Elana took a frustrated breath and reflected on his words and said. “You got something good?”

Brindle looked at Salan, standing at attention. “Yes.”

“I’ll see if I can make it happen. You owe me.”

Brindle scoffed. “I will wait.”

Elana seethed. “Well, I will not. Unlike you, I care about my pupil.” She cut the connection.

Brindle stood and examined Salan. “Now then.” He lifted his hand, and a stream of souls spawned all around him. “How can we make you perfect?”

2.

Kyro took another shift flying us before we all had to rest. Kline had great speed but lacked stamina and had to thread his core, and Kyro was lazy, taking a casual afternoon siesta. I couldn’t complain because I was useless for traveling great distances, so I just sat under a tree, reveling in the sound of symphony bugs as I hesitantly looked at the message notification from my parents.

I had never been afraid to speak to them before, but if Aiden followed through and sounded my war declaration, I would have to admit to them that their daughter was preparing to fight and even kill people, if necessary, for the sake of the forest.

And then what?

Eventually, the Dante Family’s contract for protecting my family would run out, and I would need to renew it or find new protection for them. Or… I could just start a colony, right?

I reasoned that if I proved myself enough, I could bring them to the forest—

—but who in their right mind would like to live like broke mountain men during the times of old?

I hadn’t even survived a winter in this forest. Would they? Could they even enjoy it?

In all ways, I had been put into tough positions and had put them into tough positions as a result.

I slapped my cheeks. Family was family, so I opened the letter and, naturally, bawled like a baby after the first line.

“Dear Mira,” it began, “You’re still alive. That invalidates any criticisms that we have toward your reckless way of life and poor decisions. We are just so thankful.”

I felt something on my leg and found Kline pawing at me. “You wanna hear, too?”

He meowed.

I guided him into my lap and read on.

“We’re also slightly bitter that you nailed our routines and mindsets so well. You practically sent your mother into a heart attack with the news of her predictability. She spent the whole night wondering if she should’ve dated that handsome, rich rockstar instead of choosing her accountant nobody… okay, she’s slapping my arm now.”

I laughed.

“Look, Mira. You know us. We really are just living the dream—crunching a 9 to 5 and trying to make it in this world. It is a bit different. We had dinner with a lizardfolk family the other night. Smart folks. Versed in accounting and artwork. But God, could they eat? We watched them eat an entire roast pig equivalent on all fours from a single platter like dogs, and I could only eat a bite of steak like a petite princess and think… what the fuck happened as Tanya said, “Don’t be prejudice honey,” with the palest face I’ve ever seen.

“Yeah, it’s different.”

I laughed even harder.

“But it’s nice sometimes. The food’s decent and there’s new things to experience at every corner, and your mom’s bought probably forty plants now, making up the house—trying to entice you home.”

I cried again.

“It’s hard knowing that we won’t get to see you soon, but… Tyler will. Turns out your decision to get him a teacher backfired. The man’s name is Kalas, and he’s ordered Tyler to witness the forest as both a means to teach him humility and a source of reference for his training. Since Hadrian Dante, the scion of the family that does our protection detail, is going, it’s mandatory.”

An icy shiver crawled down my spine. Things just went from bad to worse.

“That said,” my father wrote, “The Harvest isn’t exactly what we expected. The area within the Bramble is a safe zone. If anyone disturbs the Bramble, the forest attacks. So people don’t fight. So the scientists and alchemists stick around there. Tyler won’t be going much further than that. We hope you won’t either. There’ll be over ten thousand people fanning out into the forest after that… and then it’s anyone’s guess. So, please Mira, stay there and wait out the Harvest. Spend time with your brother and stay safe.”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

A raging torrent of emotions crashed into me like rolling waves. Without even answering my parent’s plea, I declared war on the Harvesters. And, worst, I was truly realizing the depth of the problem with the Harvest. I would have to keep over ten thousand people fanning out in the forest in check. What a joke.

“Either way,” I whispered, “Tyler’s looking forward to seeing you. We all are. If you do decide to stay safe this year, come to the gates. We’ll be waiting there during the Harvest, hoping you’ll drop by.”

I looked up, seeing blurry lines from tree limbs swaying in my teary cataracts.

“I’ll find time,” I whispered. “I don’t know how, but… I’ll find time. I’ll find time…”

I let my head fall against a tree. “I’ll find time…” I looked at the letter and read the last line.

“We love you, Mira. We’re saving up silver requests to contact you. You’re more important to us than anything else. With love and kisses and a paw from Gatsby—the Hills.”

I laughed and cried and hugged Kline, who was abnormally huggy himself, and then we waited in silence for about an hour before Kyro finally stood up.

“What a helluva family.” He took a swig from his flask and rubbed his forearms. “Well, they’re not gonna see themselves. So let’s get going.”

I smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

Kline jumped out of my lap, stretched, and grew into his large cat alter persona.

“Your turn again?” Kyro mused.

“He’s a Hill,” I said as I saddled him. “Now hurry up; lest you wanna fly.”

“I’ll refrain,” Kyro said, fluttering to my shoulder and sitting down. He took a drink and said: “Let’s go!”

We burst through the forest again, faster than we ever had, moving north to the Bramble. The harvest was coming—and we would be ready for it.

3.

We almost didn’t make it. It was an hour before sunset when we ran out of steam and were discussing a break to regain stamina. Kyro was saying something like, “If we gotta fight, we’d be useless at this point,” and that made me nervous. It was almost better to just get some sleep and reach him during the Harvest.

We had almost reached that point when we heard strange howling from a distant mountaintop, and then I remembered something that should’ve been obvious.

The lurvine.

Kyro put up his hands, but I pushed them down. “They’re friends.”

He was hesitant, but when he saw the white canines with multiple tails and blue markings, he furrowed his brow. “Wait. Those’re…”

“The lurvine.”

“Yeah, I know, but… why’re they here?”

“‘Cause they said they’d help out during the Harvest,” I said with a wide grin.

“That’s presumptuous. Wait. How do you even know?”

“Aiden’s a beast tamer. Now hush up. Don’t you dare offend our saviors.”

The first to blow out of the woods was Sina. She was moving so fast that her paws thrust dirt for five feet when she skidded to a halt. When she noticed that fact and realized that her pack wasn’t even close, she looked at me with an embarrassed expression, huffed, and turned around and tried to leave, acting like she was just here to warn me.

“Sina!” I cheered, rushing forward. “I missed you!”

She looked past sheepishly and then tried to run, but my Moxle Dilation and body had improved, even if my shielding hadn’t caught up, so I caught her much faster than she was expecting, hugging her neck.

She groaned and huffed and warned, trying to shake me off, but I just giggled and held onto her neck, and she eventually chuffed and stopped moving.

“You actually came,” I said.

She rolled her eyes, almost offended, and then looked into the forest as Kael and the other lurvines arrived with grinning faces.

Then they saw Kline and scrunched their noses. My little warrior did the same.

“Oh shush,” I said. “You’re all big men. Seriously. You guys are monsters. Were you working out when I was gone?”

I couldn't understand them but they could sure as hell understand me. I knew because the males puffed out their chests with pride as the females rolled their eyes but lifted their noses just as pridefully.

They were huge and powerful. It was amazing.

“Well, I got snacks, but we’re kinda running late. Can you help us?”

The lurvines looked at Kyro, who had materialized on my shoulder, and then back at me.

Moments minutes later, I was riding a mythical beast as we blasted through the forest. I only needed a spear to complete the image. It was so fucking cool.

And we made it.

It was sunset when we reached the Bramble and saw a skyline of dragons staring down at us below. I was terrified, but Kline and Sina and Kael didn’t stop running. They stood strong until the very end, leading the pack into an open meadow, staring down the most ominous backdrop I could imagine.

The last stretch of the forest—as shown on the Guide’s screen during the Trial of Survival—looked like a gnarled tumbleweed mixed with rose briars from above. Up close, it looked like a mess of razor wire that snaked on the ground in all directions, with briars the size of wild bamboo in forests—thick enough to wrap two hands around it and still not having one’s hands meet. There were hundreds of thousands of those briars wrapping around the normal trees that looked like pillars or growing out of the ground. Just the thought of walking into it summoned images from horror movies and books and my darkest imagination.

It wasn’t a joke.

So you came, Thorvel said in a booming voice. I looked up and saw his massive silhouette in the blood-red sunset as if someone had taken a cookie cutter to a sheet of molten glass.

I nodded. “I came.”

And you brought a friend. He eyed Kyro, who was casually sitting on my shoulder. I assume this means you’ve brought word from Serenflora?

“I have,” Kyro said. “Nethralis and the Drokai stand behind Mira Hill.”

He narrowed his slit eyes. So she, too, has injected herself into my conflict?

“Yes and no. Nethralis has not protected Mira from your arrangement. However, if you harm Mira unreasonably—she will demand reparations.”

Thorvel swooped down in seconds, landing on the ground before us with a tremendous boom that sent dust flying into my eyes and nose. The lurvines yapped and backed up.

Are the Drokai threatening me? he asked.

“Yes,” Kyro said bluntly, gripping soul cores that I never handed him.

“Wait,” I whispered in horror.

Kyro ignored me and pressed on. “If you aren’t reasonable, the Drokai will take on the responsibility of guarding the forest. Neither Nethralis nor Emael will trust someone who will not live up to their word.”

Thorvel’s body emerged from the dust storm, white and blue and massive, towering above me. He glared at me, blinking his large reptilian eyes—examining my evolved cores.

So what has Nethralis deemed reasonable? Throvel asked sarcastically. How will this human prove herself a student of Brindle and an ally of this forest? Hmmm?

Kyro smiled mockingly. “We’ll let her into the Bramble.” He pointed to the gnarled landscape, and I instinctively balled up. “If she survives—you’ll shut the fuck up and leave the adults to monitor her.”

Blue fire developed in Throvel’s mouth as he took a breath but snapped his jaws shut and blew fire out his nose. The display of fury was beyond what a human could ever hope to achieve. But he forced down his rage and laughed, once at first, but it slowly picked up speed to a cackle.

That’s rather bold, he said. The Harvest has yet to begin.

“Yes,” Kyro said. “That’s why if you don’t want your…” He looked at me. “Enemy… to know things she shouldn’t, I’d recommend you accept her evolved soul core and our backing as the source of her validity.”

Throvel’s face twitched. Are you really saying that this woman can survive the Bramble?

I certainly did not think I could survive the Bramble, but Kyro smiled:

“Yes. She will survive. And you will wallow in your idiocy for letting her for the rest of time.”

Thorvel grinned viciously. Do you think I won’t call your bluff?

“Oh, I think you’re stupid enough to do it,” Kyro said. “And Nethralis did, too. That’s why we’re here right now.”

Thorvel’s temper got the better of him, and he growled at me. Then he nudged his snout to the gnarled landscape. Walk until you see it. If you return without knowing what it is—you’re dead.

He looked at Kline and the lurvines. Alone.