Althea had ventured into the forest with Arévis many times as children: it was their haven away from the orphanage. Many rivers that flowed into Lantris meandered through the trees of the Edajian forests and beyond that was farther north than she had ever traveled, towards the kingdom of Gaither.

  Edaj was an endless sprawl of wilderness and scattered chiefdoms. Traveling through thick, wooded areas was difficult and considered pointless when there were faster sea and river routes. That meant there were many unknown pathways and locations to get lost in.

  Despite the untamed chaos of it, or perhaps because of it, the forest was beautiful. The sunlight dappled the moist grass beneath her feet in friendly, leaf-filtered patches of white. The greens were pale and pleasant in the fading spring, before summer would dry and desaturate every living color. Moss climbed up tree shadows in the coolness of the morning, hiding from the ever-brighter sun peeking behind lush crowns of jade.

  Althea followed Arévis, matching her brisk pace on a simple path through the piles of driftwood and sand. Althea pointed to a low-limbed beauty with wide leaves just starting to wilt.

  “Remember we used to climb up in that tree and nap for hours?” Althea reminisced.

  Arévis' face lit up. “I remember.”

  Althea smiled. “Then you’d wander off by yourself and set a trap to catch a rabbit. Something better than the gruel they served us.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” she laughed, “but catching things for myself let me know that I didn’t have to stay there… that I wasn’t dependent on them.”

  “If it were about that, I could have taught you to fish!” Althea exclaimed, pushing at Arévis’ shoulder.

  “You did,” Arévis said.

  “Not properly,” Althea argued. “You can only fish when I give you instructions.”

  Arévis shrugged. “Maybe so. But I don’t know if there will always be a river where I go. Setting traps might be more useful.”

  “They’re both useful,” Althea declared, though she had never hunted before. There hadn’t ever been a need when she had a steady supply of fish.

  “So what are we going to do when we find the Artificers in the forest?” Althea asked.

  “I need to discover some things before I decide,” Arévis said cryptically.

  “So what are you considering… asking them questions?” The crunch of Althea’s feet on the ground sounded too loud amid the gentle birdsong. “Won’t that be hard if they’re trying to kill you?”

  “I don’t think they could,” Arévis said. She smiled and whipped out the ice stone Isold had given her. She tossed it high into the air before catching it. A path of ice crawled from the ground they stood on to the nearest tree as they walked. Althea hesitated to step on the altered ground.

  “It’s fine,” Arévis assured her. “I’m not going to make it slow your heart or crystallize your blood.”

  She shivered at the thought. “Well, when you put it like that, I’m perfectly at ease.”

  Arévis just laughed.

  “Do you think there’s a chance they won’t be hostile next time? How are you going to approach them?” Althea spoke candidly.

  “Maybe they’ll talk,” Arévis said, “or maybe I’ll have to stop them.”

  Althea stopped walking. It took Arévis a moment before she stopped to look behind her.

  “What is it?” She asked.

  “You’ve already agreed to let me come with you, so what is the point of being so secretive?” Althea demanded.

  “There is a lot that could happen. I honestly don’t know what will happen when we find them.” Arévis made no move to come closer.

  “Liar.”

  Arévis frowned.

  “If you want me here, then stop lying to me. If you don’t want to tell me what happened last year, fine. But this concerns me – I’m not about to let you harm a bunch of Artificers without first knowing why,” Althea fumed.

  Arévis shuffled a little, not speaking for a moment.

  “I’m grateful that you came with me, Althea,” Arévis explained, “but I honestly don’t know what they want. The group we fought last night might have different goals than other Artificers we run into. That’s why I need to find more of them and question them. It’s a better option than letting them come to my village, group by group, while Lantris accrues collateral damage.”

  Althea felt her shoulders un-tense. “It’s not just that, is it? You wanted to escape – you wanted an adventure.”

  Arévis smirked. She closed the distance between them with straight, purposeful steps.

  “So do you.”

  Althea folded her arms and tried to ignore her. Part of her wanted this to be an exciting adventure like she dreamed of as a child, but all she could think of was Terran bleeding on the ground and the ones responsible for such violence.

  “So after we find the Artificers in the forest, where do you want to go?” Arévis asked congenially.

  Althea felt herself smile as she stirred from excitement. “Didn’t you say Aridia was going to be our first stop?”

  “I’m sure we can manage that.”

  They started walking again, and Althea rearranged the straps of her backpack to redistribute the weight of tools and clothes. It was heavy, but traveling without preparation wasn’t an option. In it she brought her fishing equipment, healing supplies, some rations for the road, and cloth for blankets and tent-making. She brought a spare cloak, but her dress and boots were all that she had to wear. She also had a small chunk of birthday money left over. It should afford them some food or lodging should they run into any towns in the clearings.

  Arévis had brought other types of tools – probably for hunting. Beside her she carried a swift silver sword built to cut. She had never asked where she got it, but assumed it was equipment from the Artificer’s Guild.

  She sighed as she matched Arévis’ quick pace.

  “You know, you only walk faster because you have longer legs,” Althea teased.

  “I know.” Arévis’ face was blank.

  “You have terrible stamina when it comes to running,” she prodded further.

  “I know,” she replied, still unaffected.

  “How you fight with that sword is a mystery to me.”

  There was a slight pause. Althea adjusted her backpack and huffed.

  “That’s why I’ve named my sword Quick Death,” Arévis returned, “So I don’t have to spend too much energy in a fight.”

  Althea laughed hysterically and clutched at her side.

  She recovered after a moment.

  “Fair enough.”

  -

  They agreed to set up camp in a small clearing before it got dark.

  Althea set out to find kindling as Arévis froze off high branches. There was enough daylight outside of the clearing to spot the small sticks and thin branches, though the waning sunlight promised to leave if she didn’t hurry. It started to get cold, and she could hear stirrings deep in the woods that made her dart back like a scared rabbit. She returned to the clearing with an armful of wood.

  Arévis had dug a small hole and ringed it in rocks. Her logs were neatly sectioned, but still had the bite of frost on them.

  “That was fast.” Arévis looked up in surprise.

  “I could’ve gotten more, but it’s starting to get dark,” Althea lamented.

  “It will suffice. I scraped off some sap too.”

  “That’s good news.”

  She arranged the kindling in a small tent. It would have been better if she had brought some dried grass as well. Arévis wiped the sap she had found on the top and stood back to give her room.

  Althea focused on the waning star peeking out from the trees, bright yet far. She could feel tingles on her skin from each warm sunbeam. All that was left was to warp the sky.

  Althea started as far as she could reach between trees, towards the now-nearly-horizontal path to the sun. The first warp was always the hardest. It was a large amount of atmosphere to compress into a lens of adequate size. She relaxed her stance, calmed her mind and put her hands up to her target, a triangle of space between them. This wasn’t necessary to conjure the alteration, but it helped her focus. When she felt the bulge take shape, she exhaled and started on the next. She knelt to make a direct path to the kindling and set up the last warp—the finest and most precise. She dilated and contracted it carefully until a searing beam of light focused on the small spot of sap. A tiny ribbon of smoke unfurled and rose against the black of the deep forest background. Arévis readied the smallest of the logs and hovered over Althea’s work, careful not to deprive it of air.

  At last, a tiny flame sprung up. Althea smiled, and with a small flick of her hand, she willed the flame to spread quickly, to eat up the kindling like the dinner she and Arévis would soon share. Arévis set two logs down next to the kindling, and Althea lit those too. The hiss of ice melting quickly turned into the crackle of coals forming.

  It wasn’t long before they were comfortably set up next to the fire, covered in blankets and watching rabbits roast on the makeshift spit they had assembled. The gloom of nightfall sharpened the edges of the trees and overgrown roots around them. They munched on nuts and dried berries from their kits while they waited.

  Althea let out a satisfied sigh. It was a cloudless night. Above them, the clearing gave way to a smattering of glittering stars.

  “This isn’t so bad,” she observed.

  “Not at all.” Arévis seemed content, watching the flames as if they could hypnotize her.

  “I wish Terran were here to play a song,” she sighed.

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  “That would be nice,” Arévis agreed.

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “He could have come with us,” Althea huffed. An owl hoo-hooed off in the distance.

  “He was wise not to,” Arévis challenged.

  “We’re his best friends. He’s an idiot,” Althea argued, violently tearing off a piece of dried fruit.

  “He was almost killed by the Artificers. It’s perfectly reasonable to stay away from what we’re getting into. It doesn’t mean he loves you any less,” she encouraged.

  Althea took in a deep breath, peering up at the stars as if for guidance.

  “I always thought he and I would end up together,” she whispered, tugging at the simple leather bracelet he had tied on her wrist.

  “I did too,” Arévis said. “But things don’t always work out the way we think they will. I’ve learned that all too well.”

  Arévis stared into the fire, her mind clearly elsewhere.

  “Maybe what he said about childhood friends is true. You overlook things. Maybe I wanted him to have the heart of an adventurer,” Althea pressed.

  “Maybe. He always did strike me as the adventuring type, though,” Arévis mused, popping a handful of nuts into her mouth.

  Althea hmphed. “Maybe he just doesn’t want to adventure with us.”

  “Or he’s not ready.” Arévis shrugged.

  Althea shuffled, trying to situate the blankets around her. She thought she heard rustling nearby.

  “Did you hear that?” She asked Arévis, trying to hide the flicker of fear that engulfed her heart.

  “The animals won’t attack us if we have a fire,” Arévis explained.

  “I know that… but did you hear it?”

  “No, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Althea listened for it carefully, but heard nothing.

  “Why, are you afraid?” Arévis asked, smirking.

  “No,” Althea defended, “I just want to know what it is.”

  “Maybe it’s a wanderer,” Arévis said, her voice dropping.

  “What, like Nevic?”

  “No, not a drifter. A wanderer. Haven’t you heard people in the taverns speak of them?” Arévis continued.

  “It sounds sort of familiar,” Althea said, a chill climbing up her spine.

  “They are gods that have lost their minds… It’s rumored that they can no longer function as people, and so they wander aimlessly around. All they want is to remain undisturbed,” Arévis said in her best scary voice.

  “And if they’re disturbed?” Althea asked, hanging off Arévis’ every word.

  “Usually they’re harmless,” Arévis looked to the side and shrugged. Althea relaxed a little.

  “But sometimes they’re not.”

  Althea smiled to ease the tension. “You’re just trying to scare me.”

  Arévis chuckled. “A little. But I have heard stories about wanderers. They say that in this forest is where the ancient god Avner fled after the destruction of Isrun. This is where he and his seraphs wander for eternity, lost, mad, and hoping only for peace and solitude.”

  “That has got to be made up. Avner is a myth,” Althea said.

  “It’s hard to really know. But that seems like the case, doesn’t it? Before there were real gods, we had myths to inspire us—to guide us. Many tribes of Isrun still worship Avner.”

  “Why worship a god that’s not real?” Althea added.

  “I don’t know. Maybe to keep a useful idea alive? Maybe because they fear a world without him?” Arévis said.

  “Don’t they have more to fear if they’re wrong? The world is already without him, even if he once was alive,” Althea argued.

  “I think they hope that he’ll eventually show up again,” Arévis said.

  “Do you think he will?” Althea asked.

  “I don’t know,” Arévis shrugged, “but I find the gods here and now more terrifying. Who knows what Isold will do if Lantris stops following her commands? It’s not the fear of some old, mad god. It’s the fear of a real, living being.”

  “Doesn’t she get some credit for setting up the council?” Althea mentioned, “She doesn’t just command everyone. She cares about what we want.”

  “I suppose,” Arévis admitted. “She’s not bad compared to some of the other gods. Stories of them, anyway.”

  “What about actual documents that we have in our history books?” Althea prodded.

  “History is just stories, too, Thea. Who knows if they’re closer to the truth? It all depends on who writes them. And what they write of old gods is more than terrifying.”

  “Is that why you don’t trust them?”

  “Of course not. No one should.” Part of Arévis’ face was lit by flickering flame, but most of it was darkened by stark shadows.

  Althea thought about wanderers, flinching slightly every time she heard a rustling in the woods. The hoot of owls and other skittering noises divulged the nightly hunt of predators for their prey. Her stomach rumbled.

  “Is the rabbit ready yet?” She asked.

  “It should be. I’ll check it.”

  Arévis unwrapped herself from the comfort of her blankets, her travel cloak discarded by the rest of her belongings. She didn’t shiver.

  Althea could only see Arévis’ back as she checked the rabbits. She scooted to try to see the meat.

  “Well?” Althea asked, still impatient.

  “One moment.” Arévis replied, unbothered.

  Before she could complain again, she heard rustling behind her. She froze in terror. Wolves wouldn’t attack when they had a fire going, would they?

  Althea’s eyes darted around, searching for movement, but the fire had made her night blind. She heard the overwhelming sound of movement right behind her, but before she could move, she felt the cool tip of a blade at her throat. She gasped, too afraid to make a vocalization.

  Arévis whipped around at the muffled commotion and froze as well. Her demeanor changed completely to an intense sort of awareness. Althea met her eyes, but could only see blankness. She must have looked like a frightened child to Arévis.

  Arévis made a slight gesture with her hand, perhaps preparing to cast a spell.

  “I wouldn’t move if I were you,” a voice spoke into Althea’s ear. To her surprise, it was that of a young girl – perhaps close to her age.

  The girl behind her made a slight gesture. Arévis looked where she had presumably nodded toward. Knelt on a steady branch in the treetops was a boy with a bow and arrow pointed right at Arévis. He looked young as well. He was compact with dark hair from what she could make out of him.

  “That’s my brother,” the girl said, unbothered. “He’s not as quick as me, but his aim is good.”

  The boy in the tree made no movement or noise that she could detect.

  Althea couldn’t help but make a slight squeak at this. The blade moved slightly against her throat. It felt like ice was running through her veins.

  “So that means no moving, Curly,” she warned.

  She was quiet as the girl bound her hands behind her and then started on her ankles. Her movements were precise and quick, just as she had said. Arévis stood like a statue the whole time, her arms and legs slightly bent as if ready to leap.

  “If you hurt her, I will kill you, no matter how many arrows your brother shoots at me,” Arévis said when the girl was done binding her.

  The girl just laughed.

  “There won’t be any need for that if you cooperate. This is just a simple robbery,” she said. There was something chilling about how casual she sounded.

  “Ooh, is that roasted rabbit? I haven’t had a hot meal in weeks.”

  The girl moved from behind her and took the rabbit from Arévis’ hands.

  “Is this done?” She asked. The girl looked just like her brother. Dark hair, small frame. Her hair was pulled tight into a ponytail. Her large eyes almost made her look sympathetic.

  Arévis said nothing.

  The girl just shrugged and tore off piece by piece, scarfing it down. Althea felt wave after wave of terror course through her. She looked to Arévis again to quell her uncertainty. Should they attack? Should they just let themselves be robbed?

  Arévis seemed to understand her dilemma. She just shook her head almost imperceptibly. So, they wait. Althea’s heart dropped, and she closed her eyes for a moment.

  Just wait it out. It will be over soon.

  Still holding the rabbit on its stick, the girl skillfully moved to Arévis’ belongings.

  “Let’s see what kind of valuables two pretty girls carry with them in the woods,” she said, smacking her lips. She stopped for a moment to look at Arévis.

  “What are two girls like you doing in the woods anyway?” She laughed at the absurdity of it, perhaps recognizing that she looked just as odd.

  Still eating the rabbit, she poked her greasy fingers into Arévis’ bag. Rifling through various scrolls and tools, she picked up the ice crystal Isold had given to Arévis.

  “What a neat little jewel. Is this ice? Why doesn’t it melt?” She asked, delighted. She pocketed it and kept rifling.

  She could see Arévis visibly fuming at this. The girl didn’t even look up. She jumped up and moved to Althea’s bag, which had her uncomfortably close again.

  “Chin up, Curly,” she said, smirking at the look of terror on her face, “you’ll be out of this in no time if your sister here doesn’t make any wrong moves.”

  Althea watched as she opened her bag and looked through the fishing and healing supplies.

  “What is all this, anyway?” She asked. The girl seemed genuinely curious.

  Althea was too terrified to speak, but she was also obstinate and followed Arévis' example of silence. Instead she glared at the girl.

  She just chuckled at this.

  “Oooh, a good bit of silver here,” she called to her brother, holding up a few. She sealed Althea’s bag along with Arévis’ and set them in a small pile. She finished devouring the rabbit and then moved to bind Arévis as well.

  Arévis resisted slightly, and the girl gestured towards her brother. An arrow swished through the air and landed right in front of Arévis’ foot. Before Althea could look up again, the boy already had another arrow knocked.

  “Just a warning, Snow,” she reassured Arévis, patting her on her tensed shoulder. Arévis seemed to accept it when the girl pulled her arms behind her back, breathing deeply and evenly to calm herself.

  “Look at this beauty…” The girl found Arévis’ sword lying on the ground next to her blankets.

  She had Arévis kneel next to Althea, where they could both stare dead on at the archer in the trees.

  The girl grabbed the two bags, the sword, and the remaining cooked rabbit, and fled into the darkness without a trace. Arévis’ muscles twitched slightly, like she was ready at any moment to chase them, to attack.

  Instead, the archer sat for a long while before departing. He disappeared into the trees like some kind of ethereal squirrel.

  Althea let out the breath she was holding and sobbed just a little.

  “It’s alright,” Arévis soothed. “We just have to get untied.”

  “How do we do that?” Althea sobbed again, overwhelmed.

  “We’ll turn so our backs are towards each other, and we’ll untie each other’s hands.” Arévis moved to scoot so that her back was turned. She hesitated. “All right? You can do it, Thea.”

  “Okay,” she sniffled, moving as well for the first time in a while. It felt like her muscles had been plastered into one position.

  Arévis untied her hands first so that she could finish untying them both. It wasn’t all that hard. It just took time for Arévis to undo the first knot without looking at it or having proper angles to work at it.

  Althea curled back up into her blanket, looking at the dying fire, and the lack of delicious roasted rabbits. Arévis didn’t even have tools to trap and skin another. Arévis curled up next to her, so the wool and body heat made everything cozier.

  Althea couldn’t hold it any longer, and started crying. She leaned into Arévis who stiffly put an arm around her. Arévis had always been weird about touching other people. But her arm slowly relaxed and she rubbed Althea’s shoulder. It was more comforting than she could have imagined at that moment.

  “We just started—” Althea sobbed, the tragedy and injustice of it digging deep.

  “I know,” Arévis agreed. “We’ll find more supplies. Maybe we can barter if I catch some more food or do some manual labor.”

  “But-but why would they just–take things from us like that?” Althea warbled.

  “Because it’s easier than making or buying them,” Arévis answered matter-of-factly. Althea smiled despite herself at how typical it was.

  “How can you do that to another person?” Althea sniffed. Her crying died down a little.

  “They probably walk a rough path,” Arévis said.

  “So do we! That doesn’t excuse it.”

  “Certainly not,” she answered.

  Althea stopped crying, and her sadness morphed into anger. “How did you deal with it? When it happened to you, I mean.”

  Arévis was quiet for a moment, and her hand stopped rubbing. It just sat there, still as a fallen tree branch.

  “It was different, because they had killed my guild members,” she muttered.

  “I—I know, but… How did you escape? Did you attack them?” Althea prodded, knowing that Arévis might not be ready to share details, but also hoping Arévis understood that she needed sympathy right now.

  Arévis squeezed her shoulder a little, perhaps preparing herself.

  “I sought revenge,” Arévis said. “I’m not sure if I should regret it.”

  Althea sat up straighter and faced Arévis.

  “Then we should go after them.”

  “We’re already going after people who attacked us. Let’s not forget they killed many of our own villagers, and almost killed Terran. Why add more to our troubles, especially for thieves?” Arévis said, exhausted.

  “I thought that we shouldn’t hurt the Artificers we find because they weren’t the ones who went after you, and maybe not all of them have the same goals. But this is just… so meaningless. The only ‘why’ is a quick meal and a small reward. It’s cruel.”

  “It is cruel.” Arévis agreed.

  “Then we should find them and take our stuff back! We should let them know that it’s not so easily forgotten,” Althea said fiercely.

  Arévis sighed. “I don’t know if we can even find them.”