A cloudless Harvest Dawn sky, pale pink and yellow pushing back the dull night. Long shadows cast from squat brinestalk houses across fields of watervine and backs of farmers. Stagnant salt marsh air, insects buzzing loud and steady. The tableau portrayed a sense of ease to Our Yrorajr, who stood for an extended moment on the outskirts of this village before they approached the first person they saw, with some reluctance to disturb.

The farmer straightened and rested the end of her vinereaper on the ground. "Welcome, traveler," she said, like someone who knew nothing of danger. Someone content.

"Does your village have a tinker?"

"Yes, just down that way." She pointed south past the millstone, toward a building with a metal roof. "Ask for Argyve, though he likely won't be very talkative." She looked over Our Yrorajr, dusty and weary. "You should also see Elder Irudad before you leave, for a nice meal and a place to rest."

Yro thanked her as they parted, though they had no intention of heeding her advice. Such a respite, too brief even as it would last an age too long. Best not to bother.

The ground was drier away from the fields, a welcome lack of resistance upon lifting their boots, though the path leading to the tinker's hut was noticeably less tamped down than those running through the rest of the village. Upon closer look at the building itself, the brinestalk walls were mostly a facade as the main structure was instead fashioned out of rock. A sturdy hold more suited to mechanical experimentation. The entrance was wide with a dark curtain fastened open to one side, though this was juxtaposed with a sign just outside which prominently stated 'Go Away'. And inside, at the back of the room, was an old man hunched at a workbench, turned away from the world. And next to him was another man, younger, staring at Yro. They made a point not to catch his eyes.

Yro ducked their head through the doorway and knocked on the wall, though the old man did not acknowledge them, focused wholly on whatever project lay in front of him.

"Are you Argyve?" they asked.

"I'm busy ignoring you."

"I need supplies. Scrap."

Argyve exhaled through his teeth. "Apprentice," he commanded with a small wave.

The young man hopped from his stool to pull boxes down from the haphazardly organized metal shelves along the side of the room. He was short, with a slightness accentuated by the hoodie he wore, it dropping lower than a fitting one ought, and on instinct Yro almost went to grab the boxes for him. But soon enough he had them on a table that was relatively free of clutter.

"Grab whatever you need," he said. And as Yro began rifling, he added, "I'm Nud by the way. Nice to meet you."

They looked at him. He had patchy facial hair and a thin scar across his mouth. They did not return his smile, small enough as it was that they could have plausibly not seen it. "Our Yrorajr."

Clattering and clinking as metal bits of a variety of shapes and sizes were knocked against one another, quiet only when Yro paused to consider one more closely. Fried circuit boards, dented capacitors and relays, cracked and gutted housing, whatever was just salvageable enough they would stack in a careful pile, and anything else they tossed back in with the rest. Most of this would go toward bullets, a precious resource for someone with a quick finger and two hungry pistols, and the extra was wise to have around in case they had need of more risky assistance—whether grenades or tonics. Not that they preferred either, if they could help it.

"So what are you in Joppa for?" Nud asked. "You're an adventurer, right?"

"No, I am not an 'adventurer'. That implies a goal I do not pursue." Someone looking for glory and riches. They turned their head down, to hide the sneer on their beak beneath the wide brim of their hat.

"Oh. Sorry. What would you call yourself then?"

"A wanderer." They had thought of this before. "No goal besides being there. Anywhere. And now I am here. I intend to visit Red Rock."

"Red Rock, I've been there a bunch; it's a super cool place." Even as his voice remained so casual, Yro could tell by his posture that he held a great excitement, one subdued but ready to burst forth. The way he stood taller, stepped closer to the table. His smile now was not small, but rather, Yro thought, radiant, in some peculiar way.

Yro could not hold back their surprise as they said, "So you are like-minded?" It wasn’t necessarily that such was unusual, just that they had not expected to find it here.

Nud used both hands to pull his maroon neck gaiter up over his nose, as if he were suddenly nervous, or perhaps self-conscious. But before he had finished, before he could reply confirmation for himself, the tinker in the corner butted in:

"Yes, our own resident 'wanderer'. Always so excited to leave the village. Ideal for an apprentice I suppose." Argyve looked over his shoulder then and gestured with the screwdriver he was holding. "Why don't you two go wander off together and give me some quiet around here? I'm sure there's some trinket you can bring back for me out there."

The budding atmosphere had been pruned. Clearly this was not an unusual request from Argyve, nor was it made in good faith. The thought that it might pose a genuine possibility did not seem to even cross Nud's mind, as he shrank back and sheepishly counted up the scrap Yro had picked out. And indeed, Yro did not appreciate being volunteered like this; they were not much one for extended company. They did not travel to share the experience with others, or to guide someone who could not manage on their own. In that moment, however, as they ponied up their water and Nud returned the boxes to the shelves, something struck them, something inexplicable, which their mind cushioned with other rationalizations: The trip surely would not be too difficult if he had indeed been there as often as he claimed, and it would offer an intimate perspective to be accompanied by one who knows the area well. And, thought with some reserve, the encouragement would be meaningful enough to him, surely, coming as it would be from someone of Yro’s experience.

Or perhaps they shouldn’t have assumed so much of a stranger. In either case, with a great sigh from the practical side of them, fleeting sentiment won out, and they stopped in the doorway, the buzzing of the marsh waiting for them. "Are you coming, then?"

Nud froze, but only briefly. All at once he returned to that liveliness and darted about the room, shoving things into the open maw of a backpack, whose many pockets held any possible assortment of supplies and whatever else. Yro had no way to guess what this unseasoned wanderer thought was necessary, and he moved too quickly for them to discern his selection. As he finished up, he snagged a hat from the workbench he had been sitting at when Yro had arrived, a construction with a simple crown and a bill of what looked to be the upper half of a knollworm beak. As the two of them left, Yro wondered if he had seen more action than they suspected. More likely he had bought it from some trader, though.

"Red Rock is a couple parasangs north of here," Nud began immediately, "but it can be kind of boring walking there through the marsh. Unless you like running from crocs I guess. I know a different way of getting down there, if you want."

Yro didn't know what to expect from this. "If you would prefer we go that way, then I will follow your lead."

Nud closed his eyes in relief. "That's good. I mean I don't know how you like to travel but I think the subterranean route is more interesting. But I also live out here." He led the way along the edge of the village as he talked, and Yro was content to listen. "If you want to see the surface of Red Rock we can also climb up once we're there and take the marsh route back. It's fun to start close up and then see how big something really is only as you're leaving."

They passed the slow-grinding millstone, where the farmer Yro had spoken to now stood. "Where are you off to, Nud?" she called out, interrupting his continued thoughts.

"Argyve wanted some quiet so me and Our Yrorajr are going to Red Rock. I should be back before Jeweled Dusk."

"You're not taking that tunnel are you?"

"We are, yep."

"You know Warden Ualraig—"

"I know. I'll be okay. Our Yrorajr has been around a lot; they know what they're doing."

The farmer eyed Yro, more wary than she had been not that long ago.

"I do," they confirmed. They weren't one for bragging, but they tried to appear properly skilled, a motion which consisted of straightening their shoulders and showing off one of the pistols holstered at their belt. A subtle brush of the coat to one side.

Nud was already continuing onward though, conversation apparently considered finished. Quickly, Yro tipped their hat to the farmer, who gave a tight smile in return. Suddenly Yro felt a greater doubt creeping on them; there was some history here that they were not privy to, but the thought of it stuck in their head.

They caught up to Nud at the watervine field, waiting next to the pond there. He waved them over. "Right here. Be careful, it's slippery."

At the edge of the water, crawling out of it like a leech—

"This is a crack in the ground."

"I call it a fissure, personally. Either way, it goes down to a river that leads straight to the depths of Red Rock. I wanted to set up a ladder or something to make the trip easier but Ualraig asked me not to."

Yro looked into the crack, mud sloughing down the exposed shale. They suspected it would be a simple climb, plenty of footholds, if it weren't so slick. Saltwater trickling in from the field all day. Not to mention the tight fit—they were much bigger than Nud even without the wings. But he was already descending. He paused for just a moment after his head had passed ground level to offer Yro a thumbs up.

Mud and rock cool under their fingers, and cooler still farther down into the earth, down away from the sun. Shale crumbling when they kicked in the toe of their boot, a few tries until they felt it was secure. A dark, damp closeness, the living smell of the caverns. They kept their wings pressed tight against their back, and their cheek against the wall, and still they tensed as their feathers caught. Deeper still. Boot there, hand here. Each movement deliberate, for one misplaced grasp could easily slip away. Their breath, this subterranean air, in their throat, in their chest. It might have been possible for them to catch themself if it came to that, but panicked haste could lead to more mishaps. A costly overcorrection. Runoff dripping steadily, racing them to the bottom.

A light not far below now, visible as one side of the crack receded to form the ceiling of the tunnel. Yro shook out their wings and jumped the rest of the way, water splashing when they landed.

"Welcome to my favorite cave system," Nud said. "Not that I’ve been in many, but y’know." He stood to one side, blazing torch in hand, waiting for Yro to dust off. "The river starts farther down, but it’s not sheer anymore so we can just walk." Yellow and orange glistening on the rocks, uneven shadows flickering across the water. A warm haze.

Yro reached into one of the pouches on their belt and said, "Put that out. Here," as they tossed a glowsphere to Nud.

He stumbled forward to catch it, but its lazy arc slowed in the air just above his hands; he nearly ran into it. He collected himself, tucking the unspent torch into his bag, and marveled at the orb that lit up his whole person. The light was clear and even, much easier to see by than a fire, and much farther-reaching as well.

"Whoa. I didn't know these could float."

"Only some of them do. You should keep this one; I find them to be indispensible."

They saw the smile in his eyes. "Thanks, Our Yrorajr."

"Just Yro is fine." Normally they wouldn't offer such, but Nud's enthusiasm was so genuine. It wasn't immediately obvious, with his subdued way of speaking, but Yro caught on as they were well accustomed to the joy of experiencing all Qud held—and their own often manifested in more subtle ways as well. Yes, he was certainly like-minded, though tethered as he was to his village. There were many reasons one might not stray far from the familiar, and it was not Yro's place to so inquire.

They followed Nud farther into the waterlogged tunnel, which soon opened into a wider cavern whose floor was littered with pools of saltwater, the refuse from above. It dripped from the ceiling, numerous stalactites reaching for their stalagmite counterparts. Some of them now formed pillars which blocked the light of the glowsphere, though the cavern was large enough that its far reaches could not be illuminated anyway. An eerie, unknown expanse, solid in its darkness. The whole area sat on an uneven decline so the pools would overflow and trickle in thin lines down the stone. Nud paused every once in a while so he could point something out to Yro, his voice echoing in a manner which struck Yro as lonely. Here was an intricate tangle of webs where supposedly amicable cave spiders took up residence (thankfully absent, though Nud assured Yro that similarly-demeanored electrofuges could be found as well). The soft plip of water with each step. Here and there, deftly avoided, were the cracks in the rock which, once wrested out of the shadowy recesses by the glowsphere, Nud could determine to house young ivories. Climbing over bumpy mineral deposits. And here, a distinct branch in the cavern from which one could hear a cacophony of barking, confirmed as the location of a group of snapjaws.

"Check this out," Nud said, rolling up his sleeve as the two continued past the branch. "I got bit by one of them a long time ago and when I got back Ualraig almost blocked off the fissure right then and there." Indeed he had scars from the bite on his arm. And what looked to be, along one edge of the bite, a fading burn scar.

Yro ducked under a low section of ceiling, running their hand along the damp rock. "Have you often found trouble down here?" They spoke gently, aiming to minimize the echo, as if there would be anyone listening.

"Sure, there's lots of stuff you gotta be careful around. Snapjaws, giant centipedes, knollworms..." He counted them off on his fingers. "There's also some tar pools when you get to Red Rock proper. But I try to stay away from those."

Yro hummed in affirmation of his judgment but otherwise let the conversation lull.

The silence continued until Nud spoke once again, his voice more serious now: "There's something over there." He directed his gaze to the left where, just past a craggy incline, the ceiling drew higher. Any farther beyond that was pitch black.

"You cannot possibly see anything."

"No, but—Let me get closer." He clambered up the rocks and forward from there.

Yro had to follow to keep with the light, though it still had not revealed anything by the time Nud stopped moving. "Is it—a psychic?" they asked in a whisper. They had known some mutants who could sense the presence of nearby psychic creatures.

"It's a bear. I think it knows we're here."

Indeed, there came a low huffing, followed soon by a bear trundling into view at the edge of the light. It had massive jaws that were slathered with honey, a snack it was still licking up while it approached. And not far to its side was another, with much the same appearance. Barkbiters, sturdy and aggressive. What these two were doing around the salt marshes, however, Yro could not guess, though reflecting on the mysteries of Qud was not of utmost importance then.

"Oh, three bears. Looks like they were having a little party."

"Three?" They watched the darkness, steeling themself. "Were neither of these the bear you sensed?"

"No, definitely not."

"Where is the other bear, Nud?" More frantic than intended.

He turned. "It's right—"

A mass of dark fur. Towering, arms raised. Yro grabbed Nud tight and pumped their wings, felt the force of a narrowly-missed swipe.

A barkbiter much larger than the other two, which were both now fast approaching. It was covered in the scars of numerous hard-fought battles.

Yro moved to unholster their revolvers, but hesitated.

They could handle three barkbiters; they had done as much before.

But Nud just stood there, one foot back. They didn’t know what to expect from him.

They had delayed long enough that the massive barkbiter grunted and readied itself for another swipe, supported by its fellows flanking it to either side. Too close. No sense in fighting now.

Nud still had not moved, but Yro was not keen to wait longer; they grabbed him again.

A burst forward with their wings. Claws scraping on rock. A fwoom of heat.

Yro turned their head to see flames shoot out from Nud's mouth, after he had lowered his neck gaiter. A vicious glare that stunned them, for a moment. The bears roared, but Yro couldn’t see. They just kept moving, propelled mostly by their wings, boots hitting the ground hard in between beats. The hot glow faded, but Yro did not stop until they were back at the base of the incline, unpursued.

"That was dangerous," Yro rebuked him, breathing hard, thinking back through the encounter. "Impulsive." They spat the word out. "What if I had not been there?" His inexperience showed clearly. But they inhaled deeply to collect themself, to keep from saying more. It had not been their most admirable performance under pressure, but it was hard to determine the best course of action with such an unknown variable, and at least they had acted quickly enough.

Nud, for his part, seemed calm. Or did he? The longer Yro looked at him the more they couldn't tell one way or the other. His posture was not tense or shaky, but he pulled that fabric back over his face slowly, with both hands. His eyes were distant. Barkbiters would have been an unusual sight for him, but he had not seemed particularly worried at the confrontation.

The fire, then? They had barely processed it as it happened. The way he kept his mouth covered... If he was so worried about it, why use it at all? Why take the risk?

"Nud," Yro began, but they didn't know what else they would even say.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to see what was there."

"That is a quick way to get yourself killed."

"I know."

The silence billowed. Like smoke.

"I wasn't trying to hurt them, you know," Nud said. "I wanted them to get close enough to just scare them off. And I made sure I was—oh no, I didn't get you did I?"

They tried to sound reassuring but they could tell how tense they were. "No, no, I am fine."

He looked them over, as if to find any singed areas (which they could not blame him for), as he continued talking. "I'm sorry, I really try to be careful with it because I know how dangerous it can be and Ualraig always stresses the importance of"—this was the most emotive they had heard him, not at the verge of tears but they could easily imagine him reaching that point, unable as he was to keep from rambling. He fidgeted with his neck gaiter and the ends of his jacket sleeves. The bears didn't even matter to him; Yro expected he would have the same reaction if he had tried to light a campfire.

Before he could say too much, get too carried away, Yro placed a firm hand on his shoulder. They felt a prick of static. "Nud. I said I am fine. You need not explain."

He nodded, silent.

It wasn't necessarily that they did not care. They simply felt that whatever further explanation he might try to fumble through was not one they needed to know, being as they were a stranger and a wanderer.

The matter was still clearly weighing on him, however, so Yro motioned forward. "We should take a short rest. Let us gain some distance, then we will stop."

"The river should be really close now."

"Then we will go that far."

It did not take long to reach a short drop, at the base of which was the river Nud spoke of, flowing northward. The bank had been eroded smooth, and the sound of constant rippling was pleasant as it broke up the previous monotony. The two sat nearby on flat rocks, without a word between them. Yro didn’t think there was much for them to say to Nud. They could criticize his lack of awareness and self preservation, not to mention his reckless use of fire, but neither of them had been injured and pressing the matter would only make him feel worse, a distressed and apologetic mindset that had no place in such precarious circumstances. They had already given him as much as they themself could have asked for: a chance to sit and think.

In the meantime, Yro got to work tinkering with the scrap they had bought earlier, as they had not had the opportunity before climbing down here. As planned, they fashioned a plethora of bullets for their chrome revolvers. After checking that both were loaded—which they were—Yro also made a couple of salve injectors, just in case. They greatly preferred witchwood bark themself, but upon reflection they realized they had not found an apothecary in the village beforehand to refresh their previously spent stock of it.

What a thoughtless idea this whole thing had been.

"Yro, could I get some advice?"

"Hm?" They were now piecing together a high-explosive grenade and did not look up.

"Do you think I should stay in Joppa? Like, forever?"

"That is not something I can determine."

"But you think I'm no good at exploring."

"Ask me that once we have returned to your village."

Nud sighed. A dissatisfying response, but the only one Yro was qualified to give. They figured that was the end of it then and began to put away their supplies, ready for the journey to resume. But they noticed Nud fidgeting over there, and he spoke before they could stop him.

"Was it hard to leave, uh, wherever your home is?"

Yro rolled one of their bullets between their fingers. Smooth and cold. They weren't sure why Nud was seeking these answers from them; surely he had seen other travelers before now, and ones more open than Yro. Maybe he had asked all of them. There was no way to know for sure, without making a direct inquiry at least, and Yro was not inclined to that option.

"Yes and no," they said.

"Did you have anyone—"

"I do not wish to talk about it." Their voice echoed around the cavern; in their haste it came out louder than intended.

"Oh. Well, what if you want to travel, but there are people back home who will miss you?"

"You mean the old tinker you are apprentice to? He did not seem interested in your presence anyway."

"Argyve is just—That’s just the way he is. And what about Ualraig and Elder Irudad and everyone else?"

"I have not met these people."

"But like, in general. What if you don't want them to worry about you?"

"Surely the tinker can make you a recoiler, if you do not already have one."

"What about the time in between visits? What about—"

"Stop." Yro clutched the bullet in their fist and looked Nud in the eyes. His expression read as desperate. "You are making excuses, convincing yourself you cannot leave for one reason or another. It is unbecoming." They would have left it at that, but their thoughts were stuck, back wherever their home was. And their words followed, tender now. "Wandering—traveling of any kind—it can be fulfilling, rewarding, but just as difficult and lonesome. I cannot tell you if you are prepared for that." Another shift, remembering what he had asked. "How you handled those barkbiters did not inspire confidence, but that is all I have seen. Mistakes, costly as they can always be, are as human as eating and drinking." Said as much to him as to themself.

He did not respond, seemingly caught up on something, the way he was looking at them; perhaps he expected more, but they thought it was clear that they would offer up no tale of their own experiences.

His words were quiet, at first. "Not if the human has photosynthetic skin."

"What?"

"They wouldn't really need to eat then, would they?"

Yro couldn't tell if Nud was being serious. "But they certainly could."

"Yeah, but they wouldn't have to. And then there’s all the sentient non-humans. They can make mistakes too."

"Does this really—" They faltered, exasperated. "You are being purposefully difficult."

He was smiling; Yro could see it clearly in his eyes.

Best to leave it be. Whether he took what they said to heart or not, it was out of their hands. "If you are quite satisfied, we should continue on now."

They stuck closely to the river, though there were sections of it cut too deeply into the floor as the cavern closed in, leaving the only path forward as one that crawled upward over jagged rock. The sound of moving water was easy enough to follow even when separated by pillars or forced down brief offshoots. Of course, Nud had also traveled this way many times before, Yro had to remind themself. They were keeping track on their own, as they always did, but it was Nud leading the way through every twist and turn, though many of his chosen paths were too low or narrow for Yro to fit through without strain, a fact which he apologized for each time. This stretch of cave was noticeably more populated than where they had come from, and Yro was certainly pulling their weight in that regard. Hacking away a jilted lover that grabbed at Nud when he stumbled too close. Shooting at curious snapjaws to scare them away without a fight, the sound cascading ominously into the dark reaches of the cavern. Dispatching giant centipedes that had snuck up on the both of them, before Nud could act.

He seemed distressed at the sight of the corpses, lingering there with his head down.

Yro could not continue without the light of the glowsphere. The stark shadows it cast did not help the bloody scene. They considered this, along with their previous conversation. More reassurance, then. "It is inevitable," they said. "And sometimes it must happen by your own hand."

"I know that. I always take at least two knives with me, just in case. But I'd rather just run."

"There is value in that, but it is not always feasible. Ask yourself if you can handle the possibility."

"I can handle it. I've done it before." He did not sound proud. Soft-hearted as he was, at least he wasn't naive.

"Your hat, then?" They couldn’t help asking, as they had noted the discrepancy in his actions here compared to how he wore that beak.

"Oh. It was a gift from Ualraig when I was a kid, to help me be more confident on my own. I’m pretty sure he thinks it works a little too well now, though." Bittersweet. "He said it was from a knollworm that died naturally."

Yro couldn’t tell if he believed that.

When Nud seemed to notice that Yro was still waiting for him, he motioned to the centipedes and added, "Just paying my respects."

They gave him another moment.

After this, they were uninterrupted the rest of the way to the depths of Red Rock. Nud pointed out the shifted hue when it was still too subtle for Yro to notice, but soon enough the dull slate surrounding them had become unmistakably vermillion. It was more striking than Yro had anticipated, especially in the shadow-choked caverns so far below the sky (even with the help of a glowsphere). And here the river ended in a deep pond, just as the cave opened up once again. It was impossible to tell just how big the area was, of course, but now that their destination had been reached and there was no specific path to follow, it all felt much more expansive. It was, in a word, captivating.

Yro proceeded quickly, forgetting that Nud was in control of the light.

"...I usually stick real close to the perimeter though," Nud was saying, "because there's lots of tar pools around here, and it's hard to see ‘em sometimes."

Asphalt tugged at Yro's boots. Of course. It was an illustration of their earlier point on mistakes at least, but there was still a part of them that didn't want to mention their lapse of awareness. Quite a large part.

"Yes, I have noticed," they admitted.

"I heard it happens to the best of us, human or otherwise," he said, lighthearted. "I can help you out."

"No. I am fine." They shooed Nud away when he approached and tried to wade out. The asphalt sloshed into their boots and under their pant legs as they sunk knee-deep into the pool; it was uncomfortably warm and sludgy, and absolutely unyielding.

Yro was about to relent and allow Nud's assistance when they noticed a shrill chattering start up somewhere close by, in a direction they couldn't pinpoint. They held up a hand as request for a moment's pause, listening.

There were more sounds than just that. The flapping of bat wings above and the grunting of a boar, likely a slugsnout. Saltwater dripping, as always, and the river left behind them. A soft scuttling, that of either crabs or more centipedes. There wasn't much they could do without sight on anything, so they resumed, with more care, their task of freeing themself from the asphalt. Though with the increased activity around them, the denizens of Red Rock must have already sensed Yro's predicament.

They reminded themself to remain calm this time, to focus first on what they needed to do, regardless of Nud, and they took a deep breath.

The first creature to show itself was an eyeless crab, its ivory shell glinting in the light. It tottered along the edge of the tar pool, and Yro readied their revolvers, prepared for this one and whatever might follow it.

The crab idled for long enough, as Yro and Nud both held quiet, that it was caught up to by—not a slugsnout, but a firesnout, judging by the smoke trailing from its nostrils and the way it glided through the asphalt like a glowfish through water. Yro forgave their misidentification on the fact that firesnouts were not often found in this part of Qud; the tar pools must have caused the creatures here to adapt accordingly to the environment.

Once within range, the boar shot a bout of sizzling fire. Yro conjured a force bubble to surround themself and the flames billowed around it until dissipated. Then they could see, through the now-burning asphalt in front of them, the eyeless crab, which had not been so fortunate as them. The firesnout ignored the ashes and further closed the distance on Yro.

They aimed their revolvers, but just as they pulled the triggers something slammed into their forcefield and startled them; the shots barely missed, plopping into the asphalt. They looked, and squirming there was a pallid thing, spider-like but unnatural, a twisted and shrieking girshling. They had seen such before, but that was all the way in Golgotha.

Two quick shots and it was dead.

Another burst from the firesnout broke against the forcefield, but Yro could feel their ability to hold it up slipping. There was now a small group of boars together in the asphalt. And from behind, Yro heard Nud shout.

No time. Yro focused on the area around the boars, and the air began to shimmer. They felt the heat in their head, pounding in there, building up—and the asphalt burst into flame, sending the boars squealing and rushing out of the tar pool. Yro released the breath they had been holding, and with it went their force bubble.

They turned around and immediately shot two girshlings, though several more writhed between them and Nud. The bronze dagger in his hand shone even through the dark girshling blood that already stained it. He stabbed it into another, but he was distracted, staring at Yro, the intense heat they had produced, the flaming boars fleeing deeper into the cavern. The girshling darted away with a screech, taking the knife with it.

Seizing the moment, two others leapt at him. Yro raised their guns and Nud raised his arms to protect his face. The first girshling made contact and instantly electricity arced out of Nud's hands and across each subsequent creature in a brilliant flash—including Yro.

All their muscles tensed, and the next moment they were down in the tar pool, whole body tingling, asphalt completely coating their wings and revolvers. They pulled themself to a stand, suction breaking. A reveal from both of them, then.

Nud looked mortified. It didn’t matter. Yro waved him away, waved for him to move.

He started running while Yro trudged to the edge of the asphalt.

The girshlings scrabbled after him, but he was nimble on his feet, scaling craggy ridges and dodging around pillars. The way the glowsphere followed him, it sent light and shadow dancing around the tar pools.

Yro wrenched themself free, holstered their tarry guns as they straightened. They took out a grenade. High explosive.

They called to Nud, who now had pulled ahead of the girshlings. He gave a thumbs up and hurried toward Yro.

They threw the grenade.

And from the wall next to Nud fire shot out, cutting him off, just as the grenade flew past. It was a vine, conceivably one that would have merely spit seeds, had it been anywhere else.

Yro tried to reach him, even through the fire, but their wings were useless from the asphalt and they weren't sure if they could muster up another force bubble so soon anyway. But they tried.

The blast was deafening, and the force of it caused Yro to stumble backward. They had purposefully minimized the grenade's power when crafting it on account of their surroundings, but the exact effect was always unpredictable. Stalactites crumbled and fell to the ground, loose shale was flung everywhere. Through the haze of dust that took an eternity to settle, Yro could see the light of the glowsphere.

There was Nud sitting up, surrounded by debris and girshling corpses, the one in front of him letting out a shrill whine. In his hand, a utility knife with a shiny red handle, held only half at the ready. But the noise stopped. He lay back on the rock, groaning, breath shaky.

Whatever he thought of this carnage, Yro figured it best not to mention it.

Closer now, the extent of his wounds was more apparent. Thankfully nothing that would not mend over time, but he had cuts on his face, strewn with bits of rock, and tears in his clothes that were singed and bloody.

"Are you conscious?" Yro asked. They looked through their bags for a salve injector.

"Mm. Yeah."

He started to sit up again, face tight with a grimace. When Yro went to stop him, however, they saw that many of his wounds had already closed.

"Wow, I've never been blown up before," he said with baffling nonchalance. "That was kind of fun. If, uh, really painful." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Honestly I don't think I'd want to do that again."

Yro was speechless.

"The worst part is I think my dagger got blown up too. I found that the first time I came down here."

"I can—give you one of mine." They said this without thinking.

"Aw, you don't have to, I have more at home. And you already let me have your glowsphere. But, um, I would take one. If that’s okay."

"Yes. Yes, that is okay. Back at your village though. Before any other creatures arrive."

Nud led the way once again. The path to the top of Red Rock, after creeping past the tar pools, was much less intense than that of the crack they entered through, as they mostly encountered bats and beetlebums, neither of which were looking to fight. On the way, Nud apologized for electrocuting Yro (the effect of which they tried to shrug off, though their weakness eventually forced them to take the unused salve injector), and Yro explained their pyrokinesis to him. Not that there was much to it, really, but they at least stressed that it was indeed quite dangerous and they did their best not to use it, a sentiment he nodded along with. And soon enough, four strata had been ascended and the two of them exited from the mouth of the cave, out into the hot salt marsh sun. Yro lowered their hat over their eyes, having expected it to be much later in the day; being underground always messed with their perception of time. They were grateful they had been wrong, though, so they could enjoy the natural light before it assuredly faded on their return to the village.

Prior to setting off in earnest, Nud urged Yro to look up. A towering cliff face of brilliant red rock, stark against the sky and marshland. It was quite the sight, indeed made all the sweeter by having seen the very depths of it already, by knowing how it would sit in their memories. Or perhaps this was just his dauntless sense of honest wonder rubbing off on them. Either way, they were appreciative; it was not something they would have thought of had they been here alone.

Nud pointed out another detail. "If you climb around you can find lots of carved names, mostly from adventurers I’d guess. It’s pretty cool to see the history." Like an invitation.

"I have no interest in partaking in such things," they said. "I am not here to make myself known."

Nud didn’t respond, but Yro could feel him watching them.

They looked back up at Red Rock, the climbing vermillion. Somewhere on that sprawling surface were the names of people who had thought to immortalize themselves. At least until the grooves would be eroded away, as with all things.

Regardless, they admired the unique beauty here for a moment longer.

The marsh, by comparison, was nothing they had not experienced already, wet as usual. They took the opportunity to rinse themself off in the plentiful saltwater, though a more thorough cleaning of their revolvers would be required later, when they were not on the move. Hiding amongst brinestalk to sneak past sunbathing crocs. Pulling wafers off of watervine to snack on. Ducking under oblivious giant dragonflies. Boring, as Nud had informed them it would be, but it was a welcome reprieve. The two walked for some time in silence.

"That tunnel of yours," Yro began slowly, staring toward the vast flat horizon, "was more trying than I had anticipated."

"Qud always has its surprises."

As if he would know, they thought, but then acquiesced to themself that even idle places had their times of interest. Nud himself, this man with mutations of fire and electricity, hidden away in his little salt marsh village. "Yes, certainly so," they agreed.

Stepping around ponds and glowpads.

"Elder Irudad told me once about those, uh, spider things."

"The girshlings." Said with the appropriate gravity.

"He said they were a scourge, and he was worried because Mehmet had seen something similar eating the watervine back in Joppa. I guess this is where they've been coming from." He paused. "No more tunnel to Red Rock, then."

His disappointment was evident, but there wasn't much Yro could say on the matter. They hoped their silence would be taken as sympathy.

The rest of the trek was uneventful, not much else to do besides watch the shadows lengthen as the sun dipped lower and the sky turned warm.

And then, there it was, the village. Nud hastened at the first sight of the familiar brinestalk buildings, but Yro took their time. No sense in rushing. Nud waited for them, just to the side of what was likely the elder's residence, based on its size.

He lowered his neck gaiter so he could smile at them. "Thanks for letting me tag along, Yro."

"I was the one following you."

"It was your trip in the first place. But anyway, what I meant is, no one's ever gone with me before. Anywhere. And I don't blame them, really, but—"

"You seemed as if you could use the break from your very demanding apprentice work."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

So those questions, then, had perhaps been held in for a long time.

Nud continued, "That was probably the most fun I've had down there."

"It was certainly an interesting change of pace for myself."

"Of course I always enjoy it, no matter how familiar it gets, but the surprises are the best. I know I seem reckless, and I know I don't have good control over my mutations, but I don't mind getting hurt if it comes to that. It's part of the experience. And you don't really get that when you know what's there."

Yro looked past him toward the center of the village, nearly empty of people. They couldn't say they felt the same, as they much preferred to remain uninjured, but they understood where he was coming from. With a thoughtful hum, they told Nud, "You have your mind made up, then, regarding your leaving."

He tried to start with some excuse, but Yro shook their head.

"You told me you believe your village thinks you are too confident for your own good. If you are that concerned about how they feel, perhaps you should speak to them about this instead of me."

Now he looked, too, though his gaze was more pointed, as if searching for someone in particular.

"But I also said I would give you my thoughts once we had returned here, and so I will. You have good perception, even if you are easily distracted, and you were capable enough during that fight. And, most evident, you have a great respect for the world and its denizens. I know nothing of the complexities of your life here, but if you have so great a fire, perhaps you can learn to nurture it, rather than stifle it." As a final note on the matter, from the back of their belt they took an obsidian kris, blade serpentine and smooth, and gave it to Nud. "And here is this. It comes from the great Moghra'yi."

He thanked them, almost breathlessly. But Yro was getting antsy now; they did not want to get caught up in a sentimental scene, even if they had helped it get to that point.

In an effort to remain cordial, they said before turning away, "I should be going now."

"Wait, you don't want to stay and rest after all that? Or have a meal? You've gotta try some apple matz."

"Thank you, but no. I fare best away from villages."

"Do you want to come with me to tell Elder Irudad about the girshlings, at least? You don’t have to stay after that."

"It is not my place to so interfere."

"You were there, though. That’s not interfering."

"I am a wanderer, Nud. I told you when we met."

He furrowed his brows. "I remember you said your goal is to ‘just be there,’ but you’re part of Qud too, you know. All of us are."

They didn’t know how to respond.

Evidently he took their silence as an end to the discussion and sighed. And yet, he kicked absently at the ground. Lingering. "Well, I guess I should hurry off anyway. After Elder Irudad, I’ve also gotta let Ualraig know that he should block up the fissure before it gets too dark. He’ll probably want me to help."

A smaller world.

"And, uh, you know where to find me if you ever want to visit. We can go to the rust wells next time."

"I suppose we could. Or perhaps we will meet again in the wilds of Qud." And after a beat, "Live and drink, Nud."

Yro started into the salt marsh before Nud could say anything else. They could hear, however, some admonishment back there, one of his fellows now coming to check on him, followed by Nud calling after Yro, "Live and drink!"