“Where is it?” Vur asked. He was standing in front of a purple barrier with Tafel standing next to him. The two phoenixes were standing on top of the Recordkeeper’s shoulders, and the winged woman was waiting a few feet behind Vur. He glanced around. “We didn’t miss any exits, right?”

“Other than the big hole leading outside, there weren’t any other ways out,” Tafel said with a furrowed brow. She turned her head towards the Recordkeeper. “Do you think the kirlopion could’ve left the area?”

The Recordkeeper shrugged, causing the two phoenixes to flap their wings to remain standing on her shoulders. “None of my monitoring devices can operate in the southern continent. I don’t know much about what this place is like anymore.”

Tafel frowned. “There aren’t any traces of the kirlopion’s footprints either,” she said and shook her head. “How can there only be a set of footprints heading one way? Did it disappear?” She glanced above her head, but there weren’t any marks showing something had been walking on the ceiling or walls. She lowered her head and stared at the Recordkeeper. “Can kirlopions fly?”

“No,” the Recordkeeper said. “But they can leap extremely high.” She gestured around. “Not like that’d be much use in a confined space like this.”

Tafel scratched her head. “I guess it must’ve left,” she said. “It must’ve entered the tunnel after I did which explains the footsteps starting from after the hole.” She lowered her hand and sighed. “But there are still so many other questionable parts about this whole ordeal.”

Vur shrugged. “Maybe it’s behind this wall,” he said and pointed at the purple barrier. He pressed his left palm against it. “I’m going to break it.”

“Wait,” Tafel said and grabbed Vur’s arm. “What if there are more kirlopions behind here?”

Vur furrowed his brow. “Didn’t you want to see one?”

“Well, yes,” Tafel said, “but we have to pay attention to safety as well.”

Vur tilted his head. “Is there a nest of kirlopions behind this wall?”

“I don’t know,” Tafel said. “Maybe?”

Vur turned his head back towards the barrier. “I’m going to break it. Then we’ll know.”

“Wait,” Tafel said, grabbing Vur’s arm with her other hand as well. She turned her head towards the Recordkeeper. “What do kirlopions eat? Maybe we can bait this one out and see what it’s like first.”

“Kirlopions eat everything,” the Recordkeeper said. “However, it’s especially fond of creatures that spew fire.”

Emile and Susan glanced at each other. “Isn’t that us?” Emile asked. “We spew flames all the time!”

Susan bobbed her head up and down. “It’s even harder not to use our flames here because it burns away the black mist. Maybe the kirlopion’s responsible for the black mist, and it’s using it as a way to make things produce fire!”

“So, if we go outside and create a giant bonfire, we can lure the kirlopion out?” Tafel asked.

Emile patted his chest and exhaled. He leaned over, extending past the Recordkeeper’s face, and whispered towards Susan, “I thought she was going to use us as bait.”

“I can still hear you,” Tafel said, her expression darkening. Her gaze landed on the Recordkeeper. “Will a bonfire work?”

The Recordkeeper shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What do you know?” Tafel asked and rolled her eyes. “I thought esoteric knowledge like this was your field of expertise.”

The Recordkeeper snorted. “No one in recorded history has tried to attract a kirlopion. Didn’t you hear my previous description? They were apex predators, the apex predators. The only thing that could kill a kirlopion was old age or another kirlopion. Only a self-obsessed moron would try to hunt a kirlopion for a reason like yours. It’s similar to children snorting ground pepper for recognition from their peers.”

“People do that?” Tafel asked, her forehead scrunching up.

“Yes,” the Recordkeeper said. “And just like how it doesn’t end well for them, your endeavor won’t end well for you either. I’m not particularly afraid of death, but I’m still persuading you to give up because I don’t want to die meaninglessly.”

Tafel pursed her lips. After a moment, she sighed. “Alright,” she said and lowered her arms. “Let’s give up on hunting this kirlopion.”

The Recordkeeper nodded. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m a hundred percent sure you would’ve lost. The kirlopion is immune to magic. The pointy icicle in your hand might as well not exist. What were you even planning on doing with it, and what was your backup plan once it failed?”

“Well, first, I had to see what it looked like to find its weaknesses since you wouldn’t tell me anything,” Tafel said. “Only after seeing it can I make a proper plan of attack. My plan was to test a few attacks on it and flee through a portal when things went south.”

“You were planning on bringing us through that portal, right?” Emile asked.

“Of course!” Tafel said and placed her hands on her hips. “What makes you think I would abandon you?”

“Well, there was that time you almost let me get eaten by a dragon while you went gallivanting off to who knows where,” Emile said.

Tafel glanced to the side. “Anyway,” she said, “shall we get going?”

“I still want to know what’s behind the barrier,” Vur said.

“You should break it down,” the Recordkeeper said.

“Wait,” Tafel said. “Why do you tell me I’m a moron when I suggest we hunt a kirlopion, but you encourage Vur to break down the barrier when there might be a kirlopion nest behind it?”

“You really don’t listen too well, do you?” the Recordkeeper asked. “I said I don’t want to die a meaningless death. There’s nothing wrong with dying in the pursuit of knowledge.”

“If I lured a kirlopion over with a bonfire, we’d gain plenty of knowledge about it,” Tafel said and grumbled. “Let me prepare a portal. If we accidentally release something terrible, we’ll be able to easily escape.”