Gregor greedily drank the cold water as he bathed in the light of the setting sun, it was from a flowing stream so he was quite certain it was safe. If not however over the last few days he had become much less concerned with his demise as he once was.

For the last several days Gregor and Viktor had been walking toward the capital of Baganmeade. Viktor had asked Gregor for directions after he had once more slapped him awake.

You may ask yourself why Gregor was travelling with this horror from the abyss. Truth be told Gregor was not entirely sure himself. It was something inexplicable. He had felt that on the day he met Viktor he was on the cusp of fate. As if it had directly woven this intervention into his untimely demise for the purpose of giving him a better story. A story of greatness.

So a few days ago, after walking away from their shared camp Gregor had stared at the path, thinking to himself, he could have just left that eldritch beast. After singing for it and giving directions Viktor had reluctantly let him leave, like a child having to part with one of his favourite toys. So why then did he stay?

Gregor had stared at that trodden path for about an hour. He knew where that path led, it led to monotony and routine. However, it also led to safety and reliance. It was tempting.

That was when Gregor had a flashback, a boy barely out of childhood. He could hear his father raging once again in the other room, he heard his mother's placating voice and then heard a loud smack. He winced, his mother had told him not to interfere and instead care for himself. Then he heard his sister crying. His father hated it when they cried.

It was when he heard sounds of violence from his sister's room that Gregor made his choice, gripping the knife in his hands tighter.

Gregor shook his head, wrestling himself free from his flashback. Bad memories.

And so it was that standing on the cusp of escape Gregor had turned back toward the monster and begone to travel with it. Gregor hated himself.

The journey had been hard, Viktor had never travelled on the rood, him being understandably wary of others. The downside of this action, however, was that it forced the semi-unfit writer that was Gregor to trek toward the hill bound capital of Baganmeade. It was the current reason for his fatalism.

Gregor slurped up the cool river water and huffed in the cold forest air, he had written and recited verse over his travels, creating several original pieces. Almost all of which were inspired by his strange travelling companion.

Gregor found the beast a conundrum. It was so powerful, indomitable and terrifying in its physical form and yet it had a surprising character, being quite naive and childlike.

Gregor shook his head, this was not the time for contemplation. This was the time to aggressively enjoy his rest. It seemed his companion never got tired, simply powering on even as the trail got tough, only slowing or stopping to stop Gregor from dropping dead.

Gregor slapped some water against his armpits and then submerged his whole form. It was winter in Hogenbach and yet this stream was at a refreshingly cool temperature instead of being frigid like the rest of the flowing water in this kingdom. Gregor smiled, it seemed his life was becoming filled with more and more conundrums recently.

It was then that he saw it, rather he felt it. It was a feeling all free people had been taught to fear. A feeling of unease that starts in the pit of your stomach before rising, bubbling into your throat until you can barely even breathe.

It was a feeling only associated with a single place, a place not unlike his travelling companion. It was a dimensional rift. An in-between place caused by a vast amount of ambient manner. It tore open the fragment of reality and forced horrors from the other realms into this one.

Gregor smiled nervously. For it was at this time that he remembered another piece of information. One he had learned later in life. It was the reason why civilians and knights-errant alike still flocked to these hell holes. There was a reward of 10,000 Hogenbachian Marks for any man, woman or child who could clear one of these places. They also got a meeting with the current royal family to ask for a specific reward. Gregor licked his lips in nervous anticipation. He heard the current queen of Hogenbach was single. And a true beauty.

He ran without restraint back to the clearing in which he and Viktor had decided to spend the night. He had run so hard that he had forgotten to breathe, doubling over when he arrived panting for breath. This earned him what he assumed was an amused stare from Viktor.

"Rift in woods. Near the clearing. Much ambient mana. Must close now. Want to have sex with the queen!" He panted out in broken English. Blushing after he realised exactly what he had said before rephrasing it in a light he thought Viktor would find more favourable.

"I found a rift. A dangerous place of much ambient mana. If we close it we get an audience with the queen herself. Think about it Viktor, who better to ask about your strange memories and about the whereabouts of this woman you need to find then the ruler of the land!" Gregor had neglected to tell Viktor about the monetary rewards for the sole reason that he was greedy. He then stood there, waiting and trying to gauge Viktor's reaction to his proposition. Several minutes later he realised how useless this was when in the company of a no-faced being with zero people skills. He napped against a tree. Viktor would decide when Viktor would.

Viktor was taken aback. This was the first time Gregor had spoken so enthusiastically about anything other than himself since Viktor had met him. He thought about it. The proposition was strange, sudden and Viktor didn't want to deviate too far from his current plan. Then again, Gregor had never steered him wrong yet and they were friends. Friends help friends, Also he supposed talking to the queen would help him find this woman who may know something about him.

Viktor would stand in the clearing for about an hour. Never moving, never even twitching. He was waging a war against his better judgement. Maybe he shouldn't enter into a life-threatening situation half-cocked and on the whim of a mentally unstable writer? He thought, eventually, however, his childish curiosity got the better of him and he headed out toward the rift. Not even waiting until morning as he walked into the woods his form glistening in the light of the waning moon.

Yes, this was the right decision he thought as he approached. The queen will be able to help me in my search. He smiled, his insistence on entering the rift being totally practical and not influenced by his hunger for the mana Gregor had assured him was there. This was going to be fun.