Despite her apparent eagerness to learn what Zaria had seen, Vysala didn’t return until the following day. When Zaria saw the witch approaching, spork slung over her shoulder, she repossessed her body and waved. Zaria couldn’t help but notice Vysala had a large pack resting in the bowl of the spork, a sign that made Zaria hopeful the witch was planning to leave with her. “Was wondering what happened to you.”

“Had to finish building the new herocores and get them to the people who would best use them,” Vysala said, raising her free hand in acknowledgement of the wave. “Can I come in so we can talk? Without fighting mimics?”

“Mind if we talk on my porch?” Zaria motioned to her form with arms that were far more wiry than they had been the day before. “I don’t want to get too used to moving my body around.”

Vysala nodded and stepped up, eyeing Zaria up and down. “You’ve changed.”

“Took an upgrade for my physical form. It’s a boss level mob when I’m not occupying it, now.” Zaria summoned a chair for Vysala. “Any chance the freshly minted adventurers are going to run my dungeon?”

Vysala laughed. “Saint Reogoth’s wooden member, no. Not unless you want to stick around for a couple of weeks for them to get comfortable with you. They’re terrified of the idea of getting eaten by Maw.”

Zaria sighed. “Should have expected that, I suppose.”

Vysala kicked her feet. “My guild members sent a runner ahead. They’ll be here later in the day. A Copper group. They can’t stay to defend this town indefinitely - they were just coming to relieve me so I could return to the Guild for a few days - but they can take over training the new herocores for a bit. We can probably get a group of Tin Coven members to run your dungeon easily, though.”

Zaria nodded. “That’ll be nice. So, what classes did they go with?”

“We’ve got an Ogre Knight now for a tank, an Urkin Cleric for healing, and then the most classic group composition possible - Archer, Rogue, Mage - for the other three.” Vysala ran her fingers through her hair before leaning back in the chair, arching her back until something popped. She let out a satisfied sigh and settled back in. “None of them wanted Wyrdcores, and since our trainers are all Wyrd, they went with the best known composition so we could train them as easily as possible. Plus, it’s tried and true.”

“I can follow the logic there,” Zaria said. She tried to feign interest - Vysala clearly cared about these people - but Zaria was eager to move onto the next location. Still, she did her best to keep up the conversation. “Think they’ll be all right?”

“Once my guildmates get here, yes. And another Fissure shouldn’t open in the next few hours, right?”

Zaria checked her map before answering. “Nearest Fissure isn’t for another three days, and there’s two towns closer to it than this one. Although it’s not really near either of them, looks like it’s a couple miles away from any humans.”

“That’s good.” Vysala’s jaw loosened. She’d been clenching it between sentences, and Zaria only noticed now that the tension was absent. “What direction and how far off?”

“Northwest, and about five miles. Why do you ask?”

Vysala worked her mouth for a moment, muttering numbers. “Should be no problem, then,” she said. “There’s a dungeon in the region that should notice that on its map. It won’t have the exact timeframe - I didn’t know that was possible until yesterday, when you told me to the minute how long we had - but dungeons do have some idea of timelines. They just see it as percentages, not days and hours and minutes.”

“That’s good to hear. And we could be there, too. I can cross five miles in no time.” There, she’d said it.

Vysala smiled. “We could, but we won’t.”

Zaria’s pulse spiked. “Oh?”

“No.” Vysala looked hesitant for a moment. It was a new expression on her face for Zaria. “I’d like if we could go to the Tower of the Midnight Coven. My guildhall. I need to report back - it’s been a while since I was last there - and… I’m hoping they have books on Striga.”

Zaria cocked her head to the side. “Don’t want to rely on the system messages?” she said hopefully.

“Don’t want to do this until I’m sure I know what I’m doing,” Vysala said bluntly. “I’m sorry, I know I told you I’d have an answer by now, but… there’s so many questions. Do you know how to even form the bond?”

“I’m positive it’s in the instructions I have,” Zaria said. She pulled them up. Sure enough, there it was. “So apparently you just need to run a thread of your mana through my core, and then… you’re shaking your head. Why are you shaking your head?”

“Remember what I said? I use a rune based system, not mana like other classes.” Vysala shrugged. “So if nothing else, we need to go back to the Tower to figure out how we do this.”

Zaria clenched her hands. “That second reason is valid, but you are still hesitating on this.”

“Yes,” Vysala said, again not sugar coating anything. “Because it occurred to me I don’t know… a lot, actually. Including if this is for life. And I don’t know you. But I figure we have time to travel to the Midnight Coven and do some reading. I can get to know you during that. And, as an added benefit because I know time is pressing for you - if I do turn you down, that means you’ll have other Wyrdcores to bond with right there.”

Zaria thought about pushing back, but restrained herself. There was a valid reason, so arguing now would be pointless. Plus, it was thoughtful of Vysala to make sure Zaria had access to more witches. “All right. I’m guessing you want to stay here until your guild arrives?”

“Fuck no.” Vysala’s lips curled in disgust. “Found out my ex is leading the relief party. Which I know was Rahana trying to motivate me to not stick around, and bugger me sideways if it isn’t effective. I’m perfectly fine leaving now, long before she gets here. Unless you have things you want to do still?”

That got a laugh out of Zaria. “No, I’m done. You’ll want to come inside and have a seat, though. I don’t wobble at all when I’m walking, but standing up involves some shifting.”

Vysala stood up. “Then let’s go. We can talk more on the way.”

Zaria chuckled again, relieved the witch shared her eagerness, then waited for Vysala to be inside and firmly seated before she stood up. Once she was ready, she pulled up her map. The Tower of the Midnight Coven was about sixty miles by road, or just thirty if Zaria just plowed through the wilderness. After a moment, Zaria decided to split the difference, sticking near the roads but not walking along them. That way, she wouldn’t have to gamble on the terrain being an impediment.

Without a moment’s hesitation more, Zaria set off. “You can come out now,” she said.

Vysala stepped back onto the porch, clinging onto Zaria’s doorframe with knuckles that were rapidly turning white. “How fast are you moving?” she asked.

“We should be there in a couple of hours,” Zaria said. “Assuming we don’t hit any forests along the way. Are there forests along the way? That’ll slow me down a lot.” She didn’t think she was moving particularly fast, but her increased height and the length of her gait meant anything more than walking speed wasn’t slow either.

“You’re going at the speeds of a horse near full gallop, and you’re going to maintain that the entire time?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Zaria said. “Think about it. What slows a horse down? The need for food, or water, or to catch their breath. Deepest hells, if nothing else, their heart will force them to slow eventually. The same things that makes a human stop, right? Well, I’m a building full of hate-boxes and angry candles. I don’t need to worry about biology. I’m pretty sure I don’t even have blood in my legs. So I can run endlessly.”

“Hungry Night,” Vysala whispered, the wind almost tearing the sounds away from Zaria’s hearing. “The amount of ground you can cover… only those with aerial mounts will be able to surpass you.”

“And a Striga in flight, probably,” Zaria said, unable to keep the pointed statement back.

Vysala pursed her lips, but did nod in agreement. “And probably that. Can we talk inside? The wind will make it difficult.”

“I’d rather be able to speak to the Coven when we arrive,” Zaria said. “And I can only move my body once per day. So let me try something first. Take a seat.”

Vysala did. She had gotten over her shock at Zaria’s speed fairly quickly, although she still hustled to the chair with brief hesitation. Once she was in place, Zaria focused. In theory, she could control everything within her area of influence. That counted the porch. Which meant she should be able to-

Vysala’s hair fell still, and the sound of wind vanished. “What?” Vysala asked.

“Told the air inside my area of influence to stay still,” Zaria said. “It takes a bit of focus… but honestly, it’s good practice. Could come in handy at some point.”

Vysala’s forehead furrowed, and she leaned over, sticking her hand over Zaria’s railing. Moments later, she pulled it back. “I could feel the wind,” she said. “Just… it’s like there’s a wall, but it’s only stopping the air.”

“I’m glad it worked.” Zaria said.

“Why’d you ask me to sit first?”

“Because I didn’t want you moving around and distracting me if it was hard.” Zaria chuckled. “So. Let me tell you what I saw through the Fissure.”

Vysala sat back and listened as Zaria described the other world, the diseased sky, and the archfiend annihilating the strange creature.

“I’ve heard of something like that lamprey-flyer,” Vysala said. “It came through a Fissure. The demons apparently turned on it immediately. Didn’t even try to attack the Sapients in the area. Except this one looked more like a giant flightless bird with a mass of those mouth-tentacles for a face… and no real wings. One of a couple strange things to come through.”

“What else?” Zaria asked.

“There were reports of a golem with dragonfly wings around the Carashine mountains. Definitely otherworldly. And also there was a metal vessel that flew through the air over the capital of Dranleth.” Vysala chewed her cheek. “No one saw them come through a Fissure, but nothing else makes sense. Probably.”

“Probably?” Zaria leaned forward.

“According to the dungeons - the older dungeons, I mean - there’s been a lot of oddities happening besides the Fissures. At the same time the first Fissures appeared, the system to spawn new dungeons broke down for a couple of years. Time is strange between worlds – apparently, elsewhere, it’s been only months or weeks since dungeon spawning broke down.”

“Other worlds? Like where the Fissures lead?”

“Not certain. Neither were the dungeons. It could be another world, or it could be a plane. Your description might help them narrow it down.”

“What’s the difference?” Zaria was keen to learn more. While she was excited for the Striga bond, she did wish she’d gotten one of the Wisps that the Dungeon Information had mentioned. It seemed like she was lacking a lot of knowledge other cores got, and the Wisps were probably the source of that information.

“Worlds are like here. Spheres floating through a sea of stars. Planes are outside the universe, but still part of it, apparently? Things like the world the wisps come from, Wisphame, or a place called the Betwixt that hurts my brain to even consider.”

“Interesting.” Zaria made a note to herself to ask the dungeons about that when they spoke. “What else has been happening?”

“Well, when dungeon spawning returned, mutant cores like yourself started appearing. Most of them died. The dungeons say something big is coming. We’re lucky the council that rules over the Wisps hasn’t declared our world… I forget their term. Lost or dead or whatever.” Vysala waved her hand dismissively. “You can ask them about it yourself. One dungeon we’re in contact with sits right next to the Tower. He’s a Platinum tier, over five hundred years old.”

“Lucky for you, he was right there,” Zaria said.

Vysala laughed that wonderfully melodic laugh of hers. “Oh, luck had no hand in it. We started our order in a Dungeon Town centuries ago, when that dungeon was just Tin. Back in the days of the Threlian Empire, they saw Wyrdcores as an affront to the Gods. That’s why we were founded so far from civilization and claimed the dungeon as our own. The Threlians didn’t find us before the collapse.”

“You’re using a lot of words that I don’t know,” Zaria said. “And it feels like it might be important.”

“Sorry. I forget that you don’t know… well, that you lost all your knowledge.” Vysala ran her fingers through her hair, then leaned forward to fix Zaria with her gaze. “Short version? Because the demons are more pressing.”

“Of course,” Zaria said.

“Hundreds of years ago, all of this continent was under the domain of the Threlian empire. There were - and still are - other nations and empires across the sea, but Threlia ruled all here. This land is still called Threlia, as a testament to them. However, as empires are prone to doing, they collapsed. The three children of the last emperor founded new nations - Dranleth is the one we’re closest to right now, and then the Redeemed Threlian Empire, and finally Caeraban to the south. This area is… on the edge of Dranleth. Parts of the Redeemed Threlian Empire and Caeraban both have claims to this land, too. Right before the Fissures, it looked like they’d go to war over it.”

“But the Fissures changed that?”

Vysala nodded firmly. “They changed that almost overnight. Suddenly, there were demons running across the land. The Redeemed Threlian Empire collapsed because four Fissures opened right in their capitol, and now it’s a dozen nations run by warlords, archmages, and a few other powerful beings holding sway over territory they can control. One of those new nations is even, reportedly, run by a dungeon. Caeraban and Dranleth both got luckier with that, but they’ve pulled their armies and their Guilds inwards, focusing on protecting the larger population centers and the farms that feed them. Places like this, the edge lands? They’ve been left to the demons. The only thing keeping the demons at bay out here are the dungeons, a couple guilds like mine that weren’t bound to any nation…” she trailed off and sighed. “And, as much as I personally dislike them, the Reclaimers.”

That last one was a name Zaria knew. “The people who were shouting about Salvation, and I fed to my mimics?”

“Yeah.” Vysala sighed heavily. “I have a feeling that’s gonna bugger you right up the arse one of these days. They’re a spin off of the old Imperial Church, which collapsed with the Redeemed Threlian Empire. They have kept the Threlian prejudices with them, and are trying to capitalize on the chaos out here to establish a new dominion for themselves.”

“Such as the hatred of the Wyrdcores,” Zaria said.

Vysala nodded. “We’re… not part of the normal System. From what the dungeons tell us, other worlds rarely have Wyrdcores. A fact that’s only furthered the Reclaimer’s hatred of us. We’re rare and strange, so we must be evil.”

“Huh. You know, I regret now that I ate them so quickly.”

Vysala stiffened. “Why?”

“Because that made it too quick. Should have fed them all feetfirst.”

Vysala stared at Zaria for just a second before laughing. “You had me worried there. It would be my luck to find out I’m twenty feet in the air, in a dungeon that has a hatred of my Core type.”

“Hatred sounds boring,” Zaria said. “I’m here to have a good time, kill demons, fight adventurers, and just live my second life.” She hesitated. “It is nice that my wants reduce the number of people that get killed by demons. Means more people to adventure in me.”

Vysala chuckled at that. “Heard that from dungeons before, too. There are some dungeons that, over the centuries, have really grown to hate mortals, but they kind of view the demons as… a rival predator walking into their territory.”

“That’s what I was thinking!” Zaria said. “Except the hating mortals part. But the demons will thin the herd.”

Vysala shook her head, but her lips curved in a smile. “You’ll get along well with some of the more reasonable dungeons.”

“Thanks, I think?” Zaria went quiet for a moment, just enjoying the peace of the landscape rolling along beneath her talons. “Are there forests in the way? Between here and the tower, I mean.”

“Right, right. Not any major ones. You’ll need to take the road or just cut through a few places where vegetation thickens, but it’s mostly plains from here to there.”

“Good. Now. About the demons… am I right that they get smarter by eating hearts?”

“Smarter, stronger, faster.” Vysala’s lips curled downwards, like the wafting scent of something sour had just hit her nose. “After ten hearts, they’re smart enough to have language, make strategies. Out here on the edge, there are even a few places where the demons have taken over, formed little kingdoms of their kind. But… no archfiends have come through that we know of.”

“That’s a relief,” Zaria said. “I need to at least get a couple more tiers before I fight something like that, otherwise I’ll go down.”

Vysala’s smile returned, as fast as it had vanished, at Zaria’s confidence. “At least a couple,” Vysala said. “Although going down isn’t really an option for you, is it? I mean, you don’t have a tongue I can see.”

Zaria barked out a laugh. “Haven’t given that much thought, but I guess not. Probably for the best I remember little about being flesh and blood - can’t miss what I don’t know.” Although, Zaria had to add privately to herself, she was curious.

“Fair,” Vysala said. She sniffed the air. “Okay, this is driving me to the point of distraction. Dare I ask what you’re cooking in there?”

“It’s definitely not a person,” Zaria said quickly.

Vysala stared at her long and hard, her eyes searching every inch of Zaria’s form. “Most of the time, that doesn’t need to be clarified.”

“If I ever throw a living Sapient into my Oven, I get something special. Don’t know what yet. But one of these days… I’m excited about that.”

Vysala shivered, but didn’t object. “Suppose it’s not any worse than anything else a dungeon does. So what is it, then? Because it does smell delicious.”

“Roast demon rump.”

“I hate every word of that.” Vysala made a face. “Including the fact that demon meat is a good way to be corrupted and become a monster.”

“Good news, then. I have a skill that means when I cook it, it’s safe. Provides a buff, even. Want to try?”

Vysala grimaced. “Maybe later. Why the rump, though? Does the recipe require demon arse for some reason?”

“Nope,” Zaria said brightly. “I just thought it was funny. Rumps make for good eating anyway, and this means I left behind a bunch of assless demons to confuse the town.”

That got a smile from the Witch. “Okay. That is funny. Wish I could have seen their reactions.” She stretched her back again. “Mind if I go inside and rest for a bit? I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I have a room set aside for you. Up the stairs. It’s the one with a bed. Mimics have been told to completely ignore you.”

“Appreciate it. Wake me up when we’re almost there, if you would? I want to make sure I’m fresh for when a house on legs approaches so they don’t blast you to all the hells and back.”

“I’d prefer not being exploded,” Zaria said seriously, then paused. “Well, I mean I assume I would. But I guess you can’t be down on anything you haven’t tried, right?”

That earned Zaria one last peal of laughter from the witch as she headed inside. With that, Zaria left her body to return to a discorporate form, and Vysala retreated to her room to sleep.

Her room. Zaria liked the sound of that.

Although the witch was still hesitant, Zaria was even more determined. Seeing Vysala’s softer side, and seeing the way her eyes lit up when she talked about history… everything about this woman was ideal, as far as Zaria was concerned. This was her Striga. And as soon as she could convince Vysala of that, the better off everyone would be.