“You really have no idea where we’re going, do you?”

  Sighing, I leaned back against the hard wood of the carriage seat, staring up at the slate-grey sky as wet snowflakes melted against my forehead. “We’re leaving Aegis. That’s all I know.” I huffed, a bit indignantly.

  We had just passed the border control. The Aegis City Watch was notoriously bureaucratic, logging exactly who went where and when. They had stopped us with a sharp, authoritative shout: “Halt. Name and destination?” But before we could even fumble for an answer, the carriage door had clicked open just a crack. His hand emerged, holding something metallic that caught the dull light. Corbin. Whatever he showed them worked instantly. The guard’s eyes had widened, his posture snapped straight, and he waved us through with a perplexed, almost fearful urgency.

  And since then, we had been rolling through the mountain pass that cradled Aegis like a fortress wall. Bad memories of a certain Mr. Clayborne surfaced unbidden. He had driven me into the city in silence, and now the next silent man was driving me out. Shaking my head to clear the thoughts, I turned back to Idris.

  “I was outside of Aegis for a few days when I first arrived, but I don't really know my way around the wider world yet. How far is the next village or town once we clear the pass?”

  Idris squinted into the distance, his breath puffing out in white clouds. “Depends. There are several hamlets scattered about, but the nearest one frequented by travelers is Millstone,” he explained, shivering slightly as a gust of wind cut through his coat.

  Millstone… The name tugged at something in the back of my mind. Hm. I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, the stubble scratching against my glove. When I was looking for a carriage back in the city, didn't some guy mention Millstone? “Say, Millstone has a dungeon, right? Or am I mistaken?”

  Idris looked at me, surprised. “You’re right! Do you think that’s why Sir Crownfield wants to leave the city? So you can train in a dungeon? But… I don’t think so. If it was just training, he could have taken you to the Great Dungeon of Aegis…” I heard Idris muttering to himself, trying to solve the puzzle.

  Hm. He had a point. The Aegis Dungeon was massive, renowned. Why travel all the way out here? Unless the Millstone dungeon was special… or maybe Corbin was just trying to get me away from the prying eyes of the nobility. Or, knowing Corbin, he could just tell us. But I held that to be about as likely as Ithrak apologizing for the skeletons.

  Tired of the guessing game, I closed my eyes. The darkness behind my eyelids didn't bring rest; it plunged me straight into suffocating thoughts. How is Pip doing? Is her condition like a deep sleep? Or is it a waking coma—trapped in her own body, hearing everything but unable to move? Neither option offered any comfort; they just twisted the knife of longing deeper into my gut.

  The rhythmic swaying of the carriage and the biting cold slowly numbed my senses, and soon, I drifted from the darkness of my thoughts into a deeper, heavier void.

  Pip’s POV

  In the deep, endless dark, I felt something… a sensation like a feather tickling my nose. I fought against the heavy weight pressing down on me, a gravity that threatened to crush me back into nothingness. But before it could win, I remembered… that feeling. That warmth. The power I felt when I helped the sick humans.

  I gathered that memory, pulling it close like a spark in the night. I felt the darkness recoil, giving way to a soft, weak glow. I pushed back against the suppression with everything I had. The light grew stronger, brighter, chasing the shadows into the distance.

  A sudden, blinding brilliance flooded my vision. Everything was blurry, a wash of white and gold. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze, but then that tickling sensation returned, sharper this time.

  And suddenly, I felt something stir inside me. My nose twitched, the muscles spasming in a familiar reflex. Pfff-tchk! A tiny, sharp sneeze escaped me, shaking my whole body.

  The sudden movement seemed to snap the world into focus.

  Colors exploded into existence. Trees with leaves of emerald fire, tall grasses that swayed like liquid, and a sea of flowers in every shade imaginable. And there—fluttering above them—were those little flying things I loved to chase. What did my child call them? Butterflies?

  My child?

  Panic spiked in my chest. Where is he?

  I whipped my head around, my ears swiveling frantically. Trees, grass, flowers. No stone walls. No soft bed. No Grim.

  Only fragmented memories surfaced. The last thing I remembered was being with the humans in their settlement of stone caves. The cold. The sickness. But how did I get here? What is this place?

  Carefully, on legs that felt wobbly and new, I pushed myself up. I felt… strange. Like that time before. When I left the world of rain and noise and woke up in the forest. My heart beat heavy and slow in my chest as I sniffed the air.

  It smelled… different here. Alien. Ancient.

  Last time, I had changed. I could understand my human, understand the other tall ones. I understood the world better. I had grown. And now? Now it felt like that understanding had deepened into something vast. But did that mean… was I…

  “Dead? No. You are not dead, my dear Pip.”

  The voice was everywhere and nowhere, sounding infinitely gentle, like a warm sunbeam on a cold day. Startled, I crouched low, ears flattened, muscles coiled to spring. I didn’t know where I was, and that made me afraid. Pain usually followed the unknown.

  “Please, have no fear…”

  The voice spoke again, and this time, my ears locked onto a direction.

  Cautiously, I turned.

  There.

  A delicate figure was floating—literally floating—through the sea of flowers. Trails of flowing white fabric rippled behind her like water, though there was no wind. Her hair was white, dancing around her as if she were underwater. But her face… there was no face. No eyes, no mouth. Her head was made of pure, gleaming light.

  What kind of creature is this? I wondered, my tail twitching nervously.

  “You are not here to be hurt…” she said, her voice vibrating in my bones, before she simply faded away like mist.

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  Confused, I looked around wildly. Where did she go?

  Suddenly, she was right in front of me.

  My heart hammered against my ribs, but the figure slowly sank to her knees. She extended an arm made of soft light. I flinched, expecting a strike, but she reached out with infinite gentleness. Her hand—warm, soothing, like a hearth fire—touched my head and began to stroke behind my ears.

  The fear melted away, replaced by a purr I couldn't suppress.

  “You are here,” she said softly, “to learn.”

  Grim’s POV

  BAM.

  My eyes snapped open as something slammed into me.

  Panic surged instantly. I tried to look around, but I was blind. White. Everything was white. Heavy, wet snow plastered my face, sealing my eyes shut. I tried to wipe it away, but my hand smashed clumsily against my forehead, numb and unresponsive.

  What the hell?

  I clawed the snow from my eyes, blinking furiously. The gentle flakes from earlier were gone. In their place was a roaring white beast. A blizzard. The wind howled like a banshee, tearing at my clothes, biting into my skin. I couldn't even see the horse pulling the carriage. I couldn't see Idris, who was sitting right next to me.

  The cold wasn't just cold; it was an agony. Frostbite was already sinking its teeth into me. My face felt like a thousand tiny needles were being driven into the skin, and my legs were dead weight, completely numb.

  I had to do something. Now. But what? I couldn't exactly tap Corbin on the shoulder when I couldn't even see my own hand in front of my face. And jumping off the moving carriage into this white void? Suicide.

  Shit. Think, Grim, think!

  I could manipulate the fundamental laws of reality, theoretically, but right now, reality was kicking my ass. I tried to make a fist. Nothing. My fingers were stiff claws, frozen solid.

  Panic flared again, hot and sharp. I forced it down. Focus.

  I lifted my hands to my mouth, blowing warm air into them. It was pathetic—like trying to melt a glacier with a candle. I needed real heat.

  I closed my eyes for a split second, visualizing the Mana in my chest. Fire. I needed Fire. Not an explosion, but a flow. I imagined the mana turning into liquid magma, flowing from my core, down my shoulders, through my arms, and into my frozen fingers.

  Push it out.

  Warmth bloomed in my veins. It hurt—the pins and needles of thawing nerves were excruciating—but I welcomed the pain. It meant I was still alive. With every breath, I pushed the heat further, fighting back the invading cold.

  But it wasn't enough. The blizzard was relentless. The moment the heat reached my skin, the wind stripped it away. And Idris… god, how was Idris surviving this?

  I flexed my fingers. They were sluggish, painful, but they moved. Okay. Next step.

  Gravity magic to lift the snow? No. I’d burn out my mana in minutes trying to lift a storm. Fireball? Same problem. I couldn’t boil the sky. Water magic? Useless. I can’t manipulate existing ice or snow, only generate water.

  I shook my head, frustration warring with the cold. That leaves Air.

  I brought the fingertips of both hands together, forming a crude circle. Wind Sphere.

  I channeled mana into the space between my hands. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, I wove the strands of air, spinning them faster and faster. The wind screamed in my face, trying to break my concentration, but I held on. I visualized the sphere not as a weapon, but as a shield. A bubble of calm in the chaos.

  Expand.

  I filled my lungs with the biting air and pushed mana into the construct. The sphere grew. My hands separated, fingers trembling, widening the gap. The spinning air pushed the snowflakes away, creating a tiny pocket of clarity.

  I pushed harder. Bigger.

  I extended my arms fully, my palms facing outward, straining against the pressure of the storm. The sphere enveloped me.

  Silence. Or at least, a muffling of the scream.

  Inside the bubble, the air was still. The snow was diverted around me, flowing over the invisible surface like water over a stone. Finally, I can see something!

  I pushed the sphere further, expanding its radius until it covered the entire front of the carriage.

  There.

  Through the transparent wall of my wind shield, I saw the horse. The poor beast was trudging forward with grim determination, steam rising from its flanks in thick clouds.

  I turned my head to the left. Idris.

  My heart sank. He was a wreck. Tiny icicles hung from his eyelashes. His lips were a terrifying shade of blue, and his hands, still gripping the reins with a death grip, were covered in a layer of frost. His head was bobbing, dipping lower and lower with each step the horse took.

  He was fading. Another few minutes, and he’d either freeze to death or slip under the wheels.

  Desperation clawed at my throat. I bit my lip until I tasted iron.

  Multitasking. Don't fucking lose the sphere.

  I held the wind construct steady with my left hand and mind, while I focused on my right hand. Fire. Just a trace. A gentle warmth.

  I carefully introduced a thread of Fire mana into the Wind sphere. It was tricky; too much and I’d create a blast furnace, too little and it would do nothing. The wind outside still hammered against my shield, but inside, the air began to shift. The biting chill softened.

  I saw Idris’s head jerk up slightly as the warmth hit him. He blinked, confusion clouding his frozen eyes, but he stayed upright.

  Hold it together, Grim. Just hold it.

  I scanned the whiteout ahead, praying to whatever gods were listening that we would find shelter soon.

  Pip’s POV

  The shining figure, whose touch was like sunlight, led me through the vast field of flowers.

  Butterflies danced around us in a riot of color. Something deep inside me, an instinct older than memory, urged me to chase them. My tail twitched, my pupils dilated, and I pounced, batting at the air with paws that felt light and strong.

  “Hahaha, how carefree…” my mysterious companion giggled. The sound was like a wind chime.

  A pang of sadness pierced my joy. My child used to laugh like that when he watched me play. He loved seeing me happy. The familiar warmth of the memory faded, replaced by a cold ache in my chest. I miss him terribly… will I ever see him again?

  “That, my dear, is a question only time can answer…” the voice drifted back to me. She floated on, unconcerned, drifting over the flowers like a cloud.

  My stomach twisted with a heavy feeling. I trotted after her, my paws sinking into the warm grass. She could hear my thoughts. Even though I didn’t speak—words were clumsy, hard things that humans used, not the fluid language of intent and feeling that I knew—she understood me perfectly.

  I should follow, I decided. She is not here without reason.

  I padded after the figure as the wind gently rippled through the blossoms. But soon, the scent of the air changed.

  My nose wrinkled. The sweet perfume of flowers vanished, replaced by a sharp, acrid stench. It smelled like burning. Like destruction. Like… death. Not the natural death of prey, but a wrong, twisted death. Hate.

  Fear bristled my fur, making me look twice my size. Whatever waited ahead, I did not want to see it. But my silent, floating guide gave off a calm light that kept me from turning back.

  I pushed through a dense patch of tall blue flowers, and then… the world stopped.

  The beautiful, peaceful field ended in a jagged line. Beyond it lay a scar upon the world.

  The earth was black and scorched. Bubbling pools of dark sludge popped and hissed, releasing plumes of foul smoke. The skeletons of trees reached up like clawed hands, and the ground was littered with the bodies of animals. The misery seemed endless, stretching to the horizon.

  And it was moving.

  The burning earth was creeping forward, inch by inch. I watched in horror as a vibrant red flower near the edge turned grey, withered, and burst into flame, crumbling into ash.

  “The cycle of life is eternal,” the figure said, her voice somber now. She swept her arm across the scene. “The earth grants life, but one day, life returns to the earth. In this way, nature preserves the Balance.”

  She turned her faceless head toward me.

  “In the city of humans, you healed many sick ones. You took their pain. You gave them time.” She paused. “But in doing so, you disturbed the Balance of Nature. The life force you poured into them… it brought you here.”

  I tilted my head, trying to understand the complex concepts flowing into my mind.

  “Your intention was noble,” she continued. “But you disrupted your own equilibrium. You gave life, as much as you could, until there was none left to give. And so… Nature has come to collect its due to restore the Balance.”

  I used it all up?

  The realization hit me. I had given away my own fire to keep theirs burning. And because I never stopped to rest, never stopped to refill my own well… I was here.

  But why here?

  I looked up at the floating figure, feeling small and fragile under her radiant gaze.

  “You are here so that this never happens again,” she said, her voice firm but kind. “Your selflessness saved many of my children, and for that, I wish to thank you, Well of Solace.”