The morning was crisp, the sky above a perfect shade of pale blue, dotted with soft clouds. The city of Redogs had long disappeared behind them, its towering structures hidden beyond the horizon. Now, Ember and Elena found themselves in a vast field of tall, golden grass that swayed in the wind, stretching endlessly in every direction.

  The problem?

  They were completely lost.

  “Are you sure you’re reading that right?” Ember asked, her voice edged with doubt.

  “Yes, Ember, I am reading it right,” Elena snapped, turning the map upside down and then right-side-up again. Her brows furrowed as she squinted at the intricate markings.

  Ember folded her arms, tilting her head. “That thing’s been in your hands for hours, and we’re still in the middle of nowhere.”

  Elena groaned, gripping the map tighter. “We’re not in the middle of nowhere, we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be. If you’d just be patient and—”

  “Patient?” Ember let out a dry laugh. “We’ve been walking in circles for ages! Face it, Elena, we’re lost.”

  Elena’s grip on the map tightened. She knew they were heading in the right direction—or at least she thought they were. The elder’s map wasn’t exactly straightforward, and the landscape around them didn’t match any of the drawings. But admitting that to Ember? Never.

  “We are not lost!” she snapped. “If you’d stop whining for five seconds and—”

  “Whining? I’m stating facts—”

  “Oh, so now you’re an expert on navigation? The same person who thought ‘west’ meant ‘wherever I feel like going’?”

  “That was one time!” Ember threw her arms up. “And the sun was in my eyes!”

  Elena groaned, running a frustrated hand through her dark hair. “You are impossible! Maybe if you actually listened to me for once instead of arguing about everything—”

  A sound.

  A faint shffft through the grass.

  Ember’s entire posture stiffened. The back of her neck prickled. It wasn’t just the wind—no, this was something sharp, moving with purpose.

  “Elena.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Shut up.”

  Elena scowled. “Excuse me—”

  Ember held up a hand, signaling silence. Her sharp, red eyes darted through the grass, listening.

  Elena crossed her arms. “Oh, this is rich. You just want to cut me off so you can be right again—”

  “Be quiet.” Ember’s voice was sharper this time.

  Elena ignored her completely. “You’re always like this, thinking you’re so clever, but maybe if you actually trusted me—”

  Then, in one swift motion, Ember lunged forward and clamped her hand over Elena’s mouth.

  Elena let out a muffled yelp, her body stiffening as she felt Ember’s palm press firmly over her lips.

  “Shh,” Ember whispered, eyes darting around them. “Something’s here.”

  Elena continued to make muffled noises, her glare burning into Ember.

  “Stop making that noise.” Ember’s voice was low, her breath warm against Elena’s cheek.

  More muffled protests.

  Ember sighed. “You really don’t know when to shut up, huh?”

  Elena responded with an even louder muffled noise.

  Ember groaned and leaned in, whispering directly into her ear. “If you don’t stop, I swear I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you through this field until we’re out of danger.”

  Elena froze.

  The idea of Ember carrying her like that—no, absolutely not.

  She huffed through her nose but finally stopped struggling.

  Ember slowly removed her hand.

  Silence.

  The grass swayed around them, and the wind whistled between the stalks.

  Elena shot her a glare before whispering, “I hate you.”

  Ember smirked. “Noted. Now, let’s focus on the actual problem, yeah?”

  Elena sighed but nodded, gripping the map tighter. “Fine. But if we do survive this, you’re never touching my mouth again.”

  Ember chuckled. “No promises.”

  The field remained eerily still, save for the gentle sway of the golden grass. Ember's red eyes darted around, sharp and focused. Whatever was lurking in the tall stalks was waiting, moving with intent. Then, a realization clicked in her mind.

  “I think it only moves when we talk louder,” she murmured.

  Elena, still glaring at her from the earlier mouth-covering incident, crossed her arms. “So what? We just whisper forever?”

  Ember gave her a look. “No, we walk. Slowly. And we speak quietly.”

  For once, Elena didn’t argue. The tension in Ember’s voice told her this wasn’t a game. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  They stepped forward, careful with every movement, speaking in hushed tones. The grass rustled softly with their steps, but nothing else stirred. The air was thick with suspense, but as they moved further, the tension in Elena’s shoulders started to ease.

  Then, she saw it.

  A tall, rugged stone, half-buried in the earth, covered in patches of moss. The second she laid eyes on it, something in her memory clicked. It was the exact shape as the one drawn on the elder’s map.

  Her heart leaped. “I knew it!” she whispered excitedly, gripping Ember’s arm. “See? We are on the right track! This is—”

  Ember’s hand shot up in a silent signal to be quiet.

  Elena huffed but obeyed, rolling her eyes. Just as she was about to step forward again, she noticed something strange—Ember’s face had shifted into an unreadable expression, somewhere between confusion and alarm.

  “What?” Elena whispered.

  Instead of answering, Ember moved toward her slowly.

  Elena narrowed her eyes. “If you put your hand on my mouth again, I swear I will smack you.”

  Ember shook her head, her voice barely a breath. “No… Just… don’t move.”

  A cold shiver ran down Elena’s spine.

  She could hear the grass rustling behind her. A slow, deliberate sound.

  Her mind raced, imagining everything from a slimy monster to a towering beast with fangs, claws, and glowing red eyes. Was it the creature that had been following them? Something worse?

  Ember stepped even closer, her body pressing slightly against Elena’s. “Don’t turn around,” she murmured.

  That only made Elena more desperate to turn around. Her hands clenched into fists, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs.

  And then—she moved.

  Her body acted before her brain could stop it, a mix of panic and defiance overriding Ember’s warning. She turned—

  And came face to face with a creature no bigger than her hand.

  It was floating.

  For a split second, her mind failed to process what she was looking at. The tiny beast had a soft, white, almost translucent body, like mist woven into flesh. It had four delicate legs, barely touching the air as it hovered before her. Long, curling horns twisted above its head like tiny spirals of gold, and its deep blue eyes gleamed with a strange intelligence. A thin, almost glowing mane of silver flowed down its back, shifting between solid and mist-like form.

  It blinked at her.

  She screamed.

  The creature let out a startled chirp and darted back into the grass, vanishing as if it had never been there.

  Elena stumbled back, clutching her chest, breathless. “What was that?!”

  Ember, still standing close, just stared at her, unimpressed. “I told you not to turn around.”

  Elena turned to glare at her. “You could’ve said it was a tiny floating deer-thing instead of scaring me to death!”

  Ember shrugged. “Would you have stayed still if I did?”

  Elena opened her mouth, then shut it again. “…That’s not the point.”

  Ember smirked. “Right.”

  Still panting slightly, Elena turned back toward the grass where the creature had disappeared. “What was that thing?”

  Ember sighed, glancing in the same direction. “No idea. But… it wasn’t trying to attack us.”

  Elena frowned. “Then why was it creeping up behind me like that?”

  The ground trembled beneath their feet. A deep, rumbling sensation, like the earth itself was waking up.

  Elena barely had time to react before she instinctively clung to Ember, gripping onto her sleeve with both hands. “What’s happening?!” she yelled, panic tightening her voice.

  Ember didn’t answer right away—she was just as startled, her red eyes darting around wildly as the golden grass began to move. Not from the wind. Not from an unseen creature. The grass itself swayed and rippled, like an ocean caught in a storm.

  Then, the earth beneath them shifted.

  Not cracked, not split—shifted, like something underneath was stirring.

  “Elena, move!” Ember grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the rock they had just discovered, half-lifting her as she scrambled up its rough surface. The shaking ground made it harder to climb, but Elena fought through her panic, clawing at the stone until she reached the top. Ember leaped up after her, landing in a crouch.

  Then, they both turned their eyes downward.

  Elena gasped. Ember went completely still.

  The ground itself was rising. The long, golden stalks of grass—the very ones they had been wading through—were not grass at all.

  One by one, the tall stalks began to detach from the ground, their roots lifting into the air, revealing that they weren’t plants, but creatures.

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  Hundreds of them.

  Maybe even thousands.

  They looked like floating, elongated beings with round or oval-shaped bodies where their heads should be. Some were as small as a child, others as large as a horse. Their movements were sluggish, as if they had been sleeping for years—maybe even centuries—and were just now waking up.

  Elena couldn’t breathe. She was frozen in place, still clinging to Ember’s sleeve, her wide eyes reflecting the creatures as they drifted upward.

  Ember, gripping her spear tightly, didn’t move either. “What… in the world…” she whispered.

  One by one, the creatures began to rise higher, their long bodies floating up like dandelion seeds caught in the wind. Some twirled, others stretched, and as they ascended, their forms shimmered in the light of the setting sun.

  It was… mesmerizing.

  Elena’s heartbeat, once frantic, started to slow as awe replaced fear. She watched in stunned silence as the creatures continued their slow, rhythmic ascent, moving toward the horizon, their golden bodies blending with the last rays of daylight.

  They weren’t attacking.

  They weren’t even looking at them.

  They were simply… leaving.

  Ember exhaled, as if realizing it at the same time. “They were asleep,” she murmured. “For a long time.”

  Elena’s grip on her finally loosened, but she didn’t let go completely. “My scream must have… woken them up.”

  Neither of them spoke after that. They just stood there, watching the endless flow of golden beings rise into the sky, disappearing beyond the clouds.

  Elena shivered slightly. She wasn’t sure if it was from the cooling night air or the lingering tension in her body. But she didn’t let go of Ember’s sleeve, and Ember—though she usually would’ve shaken her off—didn’t pull away.

  They stayed like that, side by side, until the last of the creatures vanished into the fading sunlight.

  Elena turned to Ember, her dark eyes still filled with the fading light of the sun. “What… was that?” she asked, her voice quiet, uncertain.

  Ember didn’t answer right away. She kept looking toward the horizon where the last traces of the floating creatures had disappeared, her red hair catching the last golden rays of light. Even though they were gone, she kept staring, as if expecting them to return.

  Finally, she exhaled. “I don’t know.”

  Elena’s hands clenched into small fists at her sides. The ground they had walked on—the place they thought was just a field—had been something else entirely. How many creatures like that were there? Were they dangerous? Or just… ancient?

  She swallowed and looked back at Ember, who was already moving, jumping down from the rock to the now-soft, green grass below. Whatever the creatures had been, their departure had left the field looking completely normal again, as if nothing had ever happened.

  Ember glanced back up. “Come on. It’s getting dark. We should rest here.”

  Elena, still dazed, nodded. She took Ember’s outstretched hand, allowing herself to be guided down the rock. Her feet touched the grass, and for a moment, she hesitated, expecting another tremor, another shift—but there was nothing. Just the rustling of leaves in the evening wind.

  Ember wasted no time. While Elena stood lost in thought, Ember quickly started setting up the tent, working with practiced efficiency. She drove the stakes into the ground, making sure the fabric was secured against the breeze. The fire was next—she crouched down, striking flint against stone until small sparks flickered into life, feeding on the dry wood they had gathered.

  Elena sat close by, her legs folded beneath her, still deep in thought.

  “There’s too many,” she murmured.

  Ember, tending to the fire, raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  Elena blinked, snapping out of her daze. “There’s just… too many creatures up here.” She hugged her knees. “I knew there were things on the surface, but this is beyond what I imagined.”

  Ember stirred the small pot of soup she had placed over the fire, her movements slow. “We don’t know if they’re bad,” she said simply.

  Elena frowned. “We don’t know if they’re good either.”

  Silence stretched between them, only the crackling of the fire filling the space.

  Then—

  “I don’t know, but it looks like the little one is still here.”

  Elena turned her head sharply. “What?”

  Ember gestured with her spoon. “Over there.”

  Elena followed her gaze and—there it was. The small, misty creature from before, the one that had startled her earlier. It was lingering near them, not far from their camp, watching them with big, curious eyes.

  It was even smaller than she remembered, only slightly bigger than Ember’s hand, and its body was strange—half-solid, half-transparent, as if made of swirling mist and soft fur. The tiny creature bobbed slightly, as though floating just above the ground.

  Elena stared at it in wonder.

  Ember, meanwhile, scoffed. “Of course, the tiny one sticks around.”

  She grabbed one of the dried fish the toads had packed for them and casually tossed it toward the creature. “Here. Eat this.”

  The little thing hesitated for a moment, then quickly snatched the fish, nibbling at it happily.

  Elena watched, fascinated, as the creature finished its meal and then—without warning—bolted toward her.

  “Wait, wha—”

  Before she could react, it snuggled up against her side, curling up like a contented cat.

  Ember narrowed her eyes. “Oh, come on.”

  Elena blinked, then grinned, amused. She lightly scratched the creature’s misty fur. “Looks like it likes me.”

  Ember crossed her arms. “I gave it the food.”

  The tiny creature didn’t seem to care. It nuzzled against Elena’s arm, making a soft, almost purring sound.

  Elena let out a soft laugh. “Well, I guess animals just think I’m more motherly than you.”

  Ember’s eye twitched. “Excuse me?”

  “I mean, clearly,” Elena continued, smirking as she stroked the creature’s head. “Every time we meet something new, they seem to like me better.”

  Ember pointed her spoon at Elena in mock offense. “That’s just because they’re dumb.”

  The little creature happily curled up tighter against Elena.

  Ember scowled. “Traitor.”

  Elena laughed. “Face it, Ember. I’m just naturally more likable.”

  Ember groaned and went back to stirring the soup, muttering under her breath. “Unbelievable…”

  Ember, still scowling at the tiny misty creature curled up against Elena, suddenly stood up with a huff.

  "That’s it. I’m going to sleep."

  Elena blinked. “What? But we haven’t even eaten yet!”

  Ember didn’t respond. She just turned on her heel and stomped off into the tent, disappearing inside without another word.

  Elena stared after her, baffled. “You cooked the food, you served the food, and now you’re going to bed before eating the food?” She sighed, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

  Snacks—because, well, that’s what she decided to call the tiny misty creature—tilted its head at her. It reminded her a little of Nibbles, a pet she used to have back in Iorph, though its ghostly, shifting form was nothing like the small, solid creature she had once known. Still, there was something in the way it clung to her, the way its large eyes followed her every movement, that made her think of home.

  "Snacks," she said, testing the name. The creature let out a tiny, happy hum, almost like it approved.

  Elena smiled, rubbing its head gently. "Yeah. You look like a Snacks." Or maybe she was just starving and thinking about food too much. Either way, the name stuck.

  With Snacks curled up beside her, she pulled out the map, tracing their path with her fingers. They had barely made any progress, and the road ahead looked long. Just seeing it laid out before her made exhaustion settle deep into her bones.

  She let out a breath and leaned back, stretching her legs. It wasn’t until she lifted her gaze that she noticed it—the sky.

  The open sky.

  She had seen it before, of course. But never like this.

  Now that they were out in the open field, with no stone walls or ceilings above them, she could see everything. The creatures stretched endlessly, countless and brilliant, shimmering like a sea of light. It was so vast, so open, so free—like the stories she had heard in Iorph, the stories about the surface being a place of infinite wonder.

  She felt like she could lose herself in it.

  The constellations twisted and danced in her vision, the glow of the moon bathing the field in soft silver light. The wind was cool against her skin, and for a brief moment, she felt like she was floating, like she was a part of the night itself.

  Ania would have loved this.

  The thought struck her so suddenly it almost hurt.

  Elena’s throat tightened.

  Ania, her best friend—the one who had dreamed of seeing the surface, of walking under the open sky. She had talked about it all the time, imagining the places they would go, the things they would see.

  But she never got to.

  Because she was gone.

  Elena clenched her hands into fists.

  And Eli, the Sainn tribe… all of them.

  She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not here.

  Snacks made a small, comforting sound beside her, pressing closer. She stroked his fur absentmindedly, staring at the sky a little longer, letting herself be swallowed by its vastness.

  Finally, she stood up, pushing away the weight pressing on her chest. She made her way toward the tent, slipping inside as quietly as she could.

  Ember was already fast asleep.

  Elena hesitated, then lay down beside her, pulling the thin blanket over herself. It wasn’t much, but it was warmer than the open air.

  She turned slightly, watching Ember’s peaceful face in the dim light. The usual sharpness in her expression was gone, replaced by something softer, more at ease.

  She’s warmer.

  The thought came unbidden, but it settled deep inside her.

  Without thinking, she moved closer, pressing against Ember’s warmth, seeking the comfort it brought.

  A lump formed in her throat.

  Ania, you should have been here too.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, her breath hitching.

  A single muffled sob escaped before she could stop it.

  And then—before she knew it—her arms moved on their own, wrapping around the sleeping figure beside her.

  Holding on tightly, as if afraid Ember, too, would disappear.

  The morning air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and the lingering smoke from last night’s fire. The tent felt emptier than usual when Elena stirred awake, the warmth she had clung to last night now gone.

  Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the tent’s fabric. She was alone.

  With a slow stretch, she pushed herself up and crawled out of the tent, blinking against the brightness.

  Outside, Ember was already awake, her red hair catching the morning sun as she moved. She was training—sparring with an invisible enemy, her movements swift and precise. Elena watched, still groggy, as Ember raised her hand and her sigil flared to life, forming a shimmering barrier in front of her. In the next moment, she drove her spear forward, breaking through the barrier in a single, fluid motion before twisting and leaping back.

  Her strikes were controlled, her form disciplined, and for a brief moment, Elena felt as if she were watching someone from the Orion Tribe’s war stories, warriors who had once stood at the surface, fighting against unseen dangers.

  Ember must have noticed her staring because she suddenly paused mid-motion and turned.

  "Morning, Lena."

  Elena sighed. "Don’t call me that."

  Ember only smirked, twirling her spear before setting it against the rock. "Breakfast is ready," she said, stretching her arms above her head. "And I already fed the little thing."

  Elena blinked, still trying to shake off her drowsiness. "The little thing?"

  "The weird misty creature. It kept looking at me like it was starving, so I gave it something to eat." Ember glanced around before shrugging. "Not sure where it went now, though."

  Elena crossed her arms. "His name is Snacks."

  Ember stared at her. "I wasn’t planning on eating him, if that’s what you’re worried about."

  Elena rolled her eyes. "No, that’s his name. Snacks."

  A beat of silence.

  Then Ember scoffed, shaking her head. "You’re hopeless." She grabbed her spear again, twirling it effortlessly before going back to her training.

  Elena ignored her, making her way over to the small fire where breakfast was waiting. It wasn’t much, just the dried rations the slimy toads had packed for them, but after yesterday’s long journey, it tasted better than anything she could remember.

  As she ate, her eyes drifted back to Ember.

  She was back to training, moving with practiced ease. The way she wielded her spear, the way she dodged and attacked, the way her sigil flared whenever she moved—it was mesmerizing.

  Elena found herself watching, not really thinking, just observing the way Ember’s body shifted with each motion, how she barely seemed to break a sweat despite the intense movements.

  She looked like something out of an old legend.

  Or maybe she just looked like herself.

  After a while, Ember stopped, exhaling deeply before rolling her shoulders. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before glancing at Elena.

  "So?" she asked, walking over to where her pack was. "What’s the plan?"

  Elena snapped out of her daze, quickly finishing off the last bite of her breakfast before unfolding the map.

  "We need to keep heading north," she said, tracing the path with her fingers. "The elder said the old Iorph ruins should be there, beyond the valley."

  Ember nodded, tightening the straps on her bag. "And how far is that?"

  Elena pursed her lips, double-checking the markings. "If we don’t get lost? Two days."

  Ember let out a small groan. "Great. More walking."

  Elena shot her a look. "You just spent all morning fighting imaginary enemies, and you’re complaining about walking?"

  "Fighting imaginary enemies is fun," Ember said, swinging her spear over her shoulder. "Walking is just walking."

  Elena shook her head, packing away the map. "Well, unless you have a better idea, we’re walking."

  Ember sighed dramatically but didn’t argue.

  As Elena started packing up, she felt a small, misty presence brush against her ankle. Looking down, she saw Snacks staring up at her, his glowing eyes curious.

  "Come on," she said softly, giving him a little pat. "Time to go."

  And so, their day began—walking and walking, passing through fields where strange, harmless creatures stood like tall, swaying reeds. Some had elongated limbs, others had translucent skin that shimmered under the sun, but none paid them any mind as they journeyed onward.

  Snacks had made himself comfortable on Ember’s shoulder, perched there like a tiny, misty guardian. He let out a soft purring sound whenever Ember scratched the side of his head, which only made her smirk in satisfaction.

  "Looks like someone likes me more now," Ember said smugly, glancing at Elena.

  Elena scoffed, adjusting the map in her hands. "I wouldn’t be so sure. He probably just thinks your shoulder is a rock."

  Ember’s smirk vanished. "Take that back."

  Elena laughed but didn’t, instead pointing at a distant cluster of structures up ahead. "Look! There’s a village."

  Ember followed her gaze, spotting small, round huts nestled between low, jagged hills. Smoke curled from a few chimneys, and faint silhouettes moved about.

  Elena’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "We should check it out."

  Ember frowned. "We don’t know if they’re friendly."

  "That’s why we check."

  "You just want an excuse to get out of walking."

  "Maybe," Elena admitted with a grin, already heading toward the village.

  Ember sighed but followed.

  The village wasn’t far, and as they approached, the details of the settlement became clearer—small homes built from a mixture of stone and mud, pathways lined with strange, curling plants, and wooden stands displaying goods. The place was alive with movement.

  Elena stepped forward, glancing around, when suddenly—

  "AAAAAHHHH!"

  A scream tore through the air.

  Elena’s scream.

  Ember’s heart lurched, and in an instant, she bolted toward her, spear in hand, prepared for a fight.

  But the moment she caught sight of Elena’s ‘problem’—

  She almost laughed.

  Elena stood frozen in place, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, pointing at something in horror.

  And in front of her—staring back, just as confused—was a humanoid figure covered in scales, with clawed hands, a thick tail, and slit-pupiled eyes.

  A lizardman.

  Not just one.

  Now that Ember had taken a better look, the whole village was full of them. Taller ones, shorter ones, some with elaborate frills running down their backs, others with patterned scales like warriors. And every single one of them was now staring at Elena.

  Ember exhaled, pressing a hand against her forehead. "Elena," she said, voice exasperated, "did you just scream because you saw people?"

  "They’re not people!" Elena hissed, eyes darting between the lizardmen.

  "They’re people," Ember corrected, crossing her arms. "Just… not Iorphs."

  One of the lizardmen, seemingly the tallest among them, stepped forward. His deep green scales glinted under the sunlight, and he wore a beaded necklace around his thick neck. He eyed them both, his gaze lingering on Elena, then let out a slow, rumbling sound.

  "You are loud," he said in a surprisingly deep and articulate voice.

  Elena stiffened. "They talk?"

  Ember actually laughed at that. "Oh, this is going to be fun."