Jake’s feet were firmly anchored to the ground, a relief after his first experience with Gellius’ teleportation that, frankly, left him with PTSD. The memory alone made him shudder.

  “That… sucked,” Luckie, who had lost his balance and fallen to the ground as a result to the shock, remarked, rubbing his shoulders.

  “Tell me about it,” Jake agreed, having a look at their surroundings.

  So, where do we go from here?

  The forest was dense, the canopy overhead blocking out much of the sunlight. Thick branches wove together like interlocking fingers, forming shadows on the ground. Around him, the three other members of their team seemed reserved and quiet, not exactly the icebreaking types.

  Well, that makes four of us.

  Luckie, of course, had no such reservations. “Oi, big man,” he said, knocking on the Corp Officer’s armor as though playing a knock-knock joke. “Where do we go?”

  God bless extroverts.

  The Officer turned slowly, his towering form making the difference in their heights almost comical. His armor was imposing, rugged, with carvings on the helmet and a worn, battle-hardened look to the chest plate and gauntlets. The horizontal slit in the helmet revealed nothing of his face. He held a massive, dark-bladed greatsword over his shoulder, its ricasso giving it a utilitarian edge.

  He drew the map and compass from his pouch and thrust his sword into the ground with a deliberate, resonant force. “Nowhere,” he said, his voice low and somber, reverberating as though coming from the depths of an abandoned cave.

  “Nowhere??” Luckie repeated incredulously.

  The well-dressed man interjected. “I must agree with the Officer. If the Proctor’s words are to be believed, this forest spans approximately 64 kilometers. The likelihood of finding an artifact before the third day is exceedingly low. Moreover, consider this: every other team will have also spawned near the barrier. Where do you think they’ll go looking for artifacts?”

  “Deeper into the forest,” Jake pitched in.

  “Correct. The center will become a hotspot. Far better to settle, capture game, and develop a strategy for the days to come.”

  Luckie jeered. “Smartass, eh?”

  The day unfolded with the Corp Officer distributing tasks. Jake and Luckie were assigned to hunt and forage for food. They were given a secret code to use, preventing impersonation via illusionary magic if things went awry: “The butterflies sure are butterflying today.” Jake found it goofy, to say the least, but Luckie seemed to revel in the absurdity.

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  The two set off, navigating through the forest. Most tree trunks appeared to be wider than three men standing shoulder to shoulder, and the thick branches created natural highways far above the forest floor. Jake and Luckie returned hours later, having encountered no enemy parties, with a modest haul of game, ranging from small birds to a hare. The Corp Officer used their catches to prepare cooked meat, smoking it over a campfire. He crafted waterskins from the animals’ bladders and demonstrated how to purify the water using charcoal and filtration techniques. Meanwhile, the other two members of the team volunteered to scout the area, returning near dusk to report no immediate threats but plenty wildlife.

  By evening, the Corp Officer instructed everyone on how to build their makeshift shelters. They constructed A-frame structures nestled between the trees, using fallen branches and thick foliage. Inside, they laid beds of dry leaves and grass for insulation. The party, save for the hooded figure, who perched on a tree branch, gathered around a campfire as the sunlight faded and their dinner cooked.

  “Twelve days is a long time to fight alongside strangers,” The Officer said, leaning against his planted sword. He removed his helmet, revealing a weathered face with baggy eyes, and blond, greasy hair. He looked to be in his late thirties, his eyes carrying the weight of someone who had seen too much. “Let’s introduce ourselves and share our reasons for joining the Corp.”

  The Officer took the lead. “Jonas. I’ve spent most of my life as a farmer. I possess no magical abilities.”

  The revelation shook both Jake and Luckie, even securing a questioning glance from the hooded character.

  Our party leader has even less magical abilities than I do…

  Even more ludicrous to the whole party was that he was a Corp Officer at all.

  “I joined the Corp three years ago to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. So my little girl doesn’t suffer the same fate my son did.” He reached into his chest plate, grabbing his memorabilia, a locket that showed his wife, older son, and daughter.

  The well-dressed man followed. “Varghese. I specialize in scouting. With the use of my mechanical monocle, made by myself, I’m able to clearly see the body’s Aura flow and its leakage. Including…” He turned to Jonas. “The lack thereof. My hobbies include clockmaking and automata creation. As for my profession, I work as a bartender at the Olive Tavern.”

  Jake, for whatever reason—perhaps the way Varghese dressed or spoke—had assumed the man was of much higher social standing.

  “I, too, have someone I care deeply about.” Varghese said. A motivation that resonated with the Officer’s own story.

  It was Luckie’s turn. He smirked. “I’m Luckie, no pun intended! I’m here for the thrill. That, and I figure the Corp’s my best shot at making a living.”

  There wasn’t much to note when it came to Luckie, and next in line was Jake, himself.

  “I’m Jake. My reasons for joining the Corp are—” He froze.

  What are my reasons? To protect… myself?

  Hearing Jonas and Varghese’s motivations made it feel selfish. “My reasons for joining the Corp are circumstances beyond my control.”

  They nodded and looked above to the hooded character.

  A distinctly feminine voice, emerged. “Erolith. My reasons are my own.” She said nothing more as she balanced on the branch.

  “Suit yourself,” Luckie muttered with a shrug.

  For the remainder of the night, they discussed shifts and lookouts.

  A man hung motionless in the thin air, suspended far above the sprawling forest. His magnificent wings stretched out on either side, their pristine beige feathers catching the moonlight with an ethereal glow. Each stroke sent a ripple of air outward. In his left hand, he held a delicate glass of wine, its contents gleaming as if infused with the same light that surrounded him.

  From his lofty vantage point, he gazed down at the ground below with cold detachment. The ‘mighty’ mages reduced to mere specks.