For the next hour or so before Kiria woke up, I used the stove for its intended purpose: cooking. I couldn’t make much, but I’d found some salt stored in a small jar, so I tried combining that with some sliced fruit to make the dried rat jerky more palatable. That didn’t quite work out, but at least my new knife did, to a degree.

It was a rugged creation; one likely to incense any blacksmith unfortunate enough to lay their eyes upon it. But with neither a hammer nor any real inclination for what I was doing, the best I could do was eke out a knife-like shape from one of the claws while cheating as much of the process as I could.

I also spent some time practicing my new [Diffusion] skill on the iron claws. In my investigations, I’d found that if I applied carbon too long, the steel transformed into cast iron. It melted a lot easier and was too brittle to function as a sword. I set those pieces aside as raw material. Maybe someone could make them into a skillet or something.

If only I could visualize the percentage of carbon within the iron somehow. I’d tried to send my mana through the material and sense the composition, but nothing came from that. Either that wasn’t a skill that existed or I didn’t understand enough about the process for the skill to manifest.

One thing I was concerned about was the lack of fresh water source within the hideout. Predictable, perhaps, for a cave, but no less inconvenient for it. I couldn’t figure out how to open the door in the rock face either. It was perceptible to my [Mana Sense], if only just, but with no clear handle, button, or lever. I tried to press my hand against the wall like Kiria had as well, but to no avail. Not even sending mana through triggered the passageway. Could it have been biometrically linked to Kiria? If that were true, I’d have to seriously reevaluate my assumptions about this world again.

A sweet scent wafted past my nose, signaling that the sautéed fruit was ready. I’d already eaten a few samples in my test tasting, but now I was making enough for two people. Surely enough, whether by chance or roused by the aroma, Kiria stirred awake. After a few moments, she brushed past the curtain and made her way over. “Good morning,” she greeted.

“Good morning,” I replied, partitioning out the fruit onto a pair of clay plates. “Here, I made some breakfast.”

“Thanks,” Kiria smiled tiredly, perhaps still waking up. She plopped down on the ground in front of a low, rectangular table in the center of the cave.

“Is there any water in here?” I asked, sitting across from her with my plate. “I couldn’t find any obvious source inside here, and the door wouldn’t open for me.”

“Oh! Right. I forgot to show you how to trigger the rune.” Kiria’s eyes widened. She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry about that. I’ll go fetch us some water.”

“Is it far?” I stood up with her and retrieved my waterskins, tying them to my belt. Kiria grabbed a large jug from one of the shelves, one I’d verified as empty, and carried under one arm as she approached where the entrance had been.

“No, we’re pretty close to the stream that flows down from the mountain,” Kiria replied. “Just a couple minutes’ walk. Can’t be too far away, in case there are dangerous animals or monsters about.”

“Is there a reason you haven’t diverted part of the stream into the cave, then?” I wondered. “I would imagine that with these runes, you could easily get fresh water on demand in here.”

Kiria nodded. “That’s how it’s done in cities, actually. They usually have a series of aqueducts running from a nearby lake or reservoir that can get siphoned into nearby homes. Out here, though, we don’t really have the spare mana crystals for that. And even if we did, that would only draw attention to this outpost. Some monsters are sensitive enough to sense mana lines, and they would definitely notice when some of the water flowed away.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” I said. “Want any help?”

“No thanks, I’ll be faster on my own.” Kiria placed her palm against the door, and I focused with [Mana Sight] to observe what she was doing.

Immediately, I noticed a key difference between what she was doing and what I had tried. Kiria wasn’t just sending mana to the door through her hand. She was guiding it along the diagonals; white lines appearing where she traced what I assumed were the runic pathways. “So that’s how it’s done,” I muttered.

“Yeah! It’s not too hard, but you have to know the pattern for the lock,” Kiria explained as the door slid into the walls as before, revealing the morning light just beyond. “Usually they’re simpler than this, but we don’t want a monster to trigger it by accident. To avoid that, we create a pattern that requires Intelligence and intent to bypass.”

“So monsters aren’t smart enough to figure out the lock?”

“Well, the ones around here aren’t, at least,” Kiria said with a shrug. “Anyway, I’ll be back real quick!” She took off with a run, quickly disappearing to the side. The door reappeared shortly after. I wondered if it was set on a timer, if Kiria’s mana ran out, or if it sensed I didn’t intend to pass through.

I returned to the table and picked up one of the fork-like utensils. It had two prongs half as long as the handle itself, and was carved from polished wood. Despite the familiarities, it was a stark difference from what I was used to. I held the “fork” in my hands, staring at its form, but not truly seeing it. Instead, my mind was elsewhere. In another world; another life.

Was it was strange for this mere eating utensil to be the most shocking — the most unusual of all I had seen thus far? I had seen magic, fantastical creatures, and a holographic screen that could pop up in front of me, invisible to all but myself. There were fruits of shapes and colors I’d scarcely imagined, and my traveling companion was a girl with a tail!

Yet this simple, dual-pronged fork really drove home the difference between my old world and this one. Maybe I was being silly. Maybe forks like this were commonplace in a foreign country on Earth, and I’d just never seen one. Even so. This single utensil, similar, yet not, stirred a feeling I struggled to describe in my chest.

A deep rumble accompanied the sliding of the door segments, followed by Kiria, who bounced inside the cavern with no sign of her earlier fatigue. “I’m back!”

I shook myself from my reverie, and after a moment’s pause, greeted, “Welcome back. How was it outside?”

“Pretty good!” Kiria set the jug on the table. It was large enough to hold an estimated ten or fifteen liters of water, so I could probably refill my waterskins by it later. “It was nice and cool outside, and there were no fresh animal or monster tracks we’d need to be wary of. Should be safe to keep going as soon as we’re done eating.”

“Good to hear,” I said, lifting the jug — which was a lot heavier than Kiria had made it look — to pour into a pair of ceramic cups. “What time is it outside, by the way?”

“About oh-nine-hundred,” Kiria said with her mouth full of fruit. It seemed she had ignored the fork in favor of stuffing a handful of fruit slices all at once. She chewed for several seconds, gave me a smile in thanks when I filled her cup, and eventually managed to swallow. “Just past sunrise. We just hit Spring a couple days ago, so The Sun’s still regaining their strength.”

“Hm?” I looked up at her after placing the jug back down. “Regaining its strength from what?”

“The Winter, of course,” Kiria said before gulping down her cup all at once. As she reached for the jug, she continued, “Don’t you know the— Oh! Right! You wouldn’t! Wanna hear it?”

“Sure,” I said, enjoying a drink of water from my cup as well.

“Ahem,” Kiria adjusted herself, sitting upright and proud. “It’s said that the Gods were birthed by The Sun, and lived in harmony for many eons. The Sun was a doting parent, and the Gods wanted for nothing. Eventually, one God in particular, Terra, desired children of her own. She approached The Sun, who agreed to teach her how to create basic forms of life. And so, Terra became the world, and upon her surface, plants and animals flourished.

“However, Terra was discontent. She didn’t just want life, but true children who she could speak with. And so, with the help of her siblings, Terra created the first sapient life forms — beings not only of emotion, but of intelligence and wisdom. The Gods were ecstatic, but The Sun could not rejoice, for the Gods had erred. Along with the humanoids, they had inadvertently created the monsters, which fed directly off Terra’s body. The Sun, fearing for the health of their child, wrapped her body in a blanket of fire. The heat killed off many of the monsters, but so too did it kill Terra’s beloved children.

“And so, Terra fought back. She cooled the land, and created clouds of water to douse the flames. She grew tall trees and mountains for shade and shelter against the heat. The Sun was startled at this development, but remained resolute. Sad though they were to sacrifice her grandchildren, their children were their first priority. They increased the heat and flames, creating the first Summer.

“But Terra was not alone. The Gods, having grown to love their nieces and nephews, lent their power to aid them. Eighty-four days passed, and Terra gained her footing, leading to the first Autumn. Her momentum built, and the land chilled to the first Winter. However, this weakened the people, who had grown to rely on The Sun’s warmth. The monsters, too, grew more powerful, and sapped the strength of the world. Thus did The Sun’s influence grow once more, and the snow melted to bring the first Spring. From there, the cycle continues. The Sun warms the land, and Terra cools it. This world has been locked in that steady balance for a thousand years.”

I nodded, absorbing the tale. My first instinct was to think of it as just that - a fairy tale. However, this was a world of magic. Who’s to say it isn’t true? Two Gods were listed in my Status, so they probably existed. The personification of The Sun and their world, Terra, was unusual to me, but not an impossibility. The question was whether this was a historical account, or a fable created to explain the seasons. Perhaps if I had some way to measure if this planet, like Earth, was tilted on its axis. But I hadn’t a clue how I would go about doing that.

“Thank for the story,” I said at last, realizing I had been quiet for a while.

“You’re welcome,” Kiria said, smiling. “It’s one of my favorite stories. I used to ask my mom to tell it to me all the time growing up.”

“Is your mother in the village as well?” I asked. The chief had been the only one I’d spoken with at their house.

Kiria shook her head, her mouth widening to a grin. “No, she’s captain of the Typhon, a Kingdom warship. It’s fast and strong, and with my mom in command, practically invincible. That how we made it all the way here.”

“Sounds impressive.” I nodded appreciatively. “Is it a wooden ship, or made from steel?”

“Hm? Wood, of course,” Kiria said, her brows drawn together. “Steel ships would be stronger, but I think it’d be really expensive to get them to float. Maybe a runic engineer would have an idea how to do it, but the amount of mana crystals you’d need would be restrictive. And it’s easier to strengthen weapons than stronger defenses, so the enemy would probably spend a lot fewer resources to destroy the ship than we put in to make it.”

I continued eating the rest of my plate while watching her theorize about the tactical validity of a steel-hulled ship. That they only used wooden ships seemed to imply that their science and technology hadn’t advanced that far yet. However, the sliding door controlled with runes seemed even more advanced than the electric, automatic doors at the supermarket. Was this an example of parallel development, with magic and science advancing together hand-in-hand? Or was the focus on magic inhibiting the growth of natural sciences? And how would the existence of mana influence the fundamental forces with which I was familiar?

For perhaps the first time, I found myself excited to explore this strange new world.

“So,” I began, pulling Kiria from her musings. “How are we going to reach the summit? Is there a trail we can follow?”

“Kind of, but not a formal one,” Kiria said. “We’ve never constructed a permanent trail up the mountain since there was no particular need to venture up there often, and scouts usually have navigation skills that make them unnecessary. Instead, we follow animal trails that wind around the slope, since it can get pretty steep.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “And we can get to the top in one day?” Doubt tinged my voice. Winding around the mountain didn’t seem fast, even if this wasn’t a particularly tall one.

Kiria’s lips curled up in glee, and I suddenly had a bad feeling about this.

Several minutes later, my fears were proved completely and utterly founded. “I really don’t think this is a good idea,” I told her, staring at the wall of jagged rock just in front of us.

“Don’t worry about it!” Kiria cheerfully reassured me while simultaneously pushing me from behind and blocking my escape. “I’ve done this plenty of times before and been perfectly fine.”

“Define ‘plenty of times,’” I challenged.

Kiria shrugged. “I dunno. Once or twice?”

“That’s not plenty!” I protested.

“C’mon, be a man, why don’t ya?” Kiria taunted, her mischievous and possibly evil face appearing next to mine. “It’s just a little climb.”

“Don’t you have wind magic we could use instead?” I pointed out.

“It’s a common misconception that wind magic can be used to fly,” Kiria said. “I’m a cat, not a bird. I can create temporary air platforms for myself, but that can only go so far. They also drain a lot of mana, so I can only use them in short bursts. Not enough to scale that cliff.”

“Surely there’s a quicker method to the top in between a twisting trail and a vertical rockface,” I shook my head in disbelief. Or denial.

“See that hole up there, near the top?” Kiria pointed nearly straight up, and I had to squint to see what she meant. A hundred or so meters above the ground, I could just make out the shadow of an opening embedded within the cliff. It was barely visible, and I wouldn’t have noticed it if not for Kiria’s direction. “That leads to a narrow cave — more of a tube, really — that arcs nearly all the way to the top. Once we’re through the tunnel, it’s just a couple hours’ walk to the summit, and I can look for Lysh’s tracks.”

“Don’t you need specific climbing gear?” I asked. “Gloves, chalk, and spikes?”

“I don’t have gloves, no idea what chalk is, and if you need spikes, you can just use those fangs in your bag, right?” Kiria replied. “Besides, even if you fall, I’ll cushion your fall with magic. So take as many times as you need!”

I shook my head and sighed. Tempting as it was to find an easier route, I didn’t want to take too long and risk missing the Oracle at the summit. The sooner I get answers, the sooner I figure out what I want to do. Where I want to go. “Alright, then. You have a plan for this, or do we just climb?”

“My [Climbing] skill gives me some intuition on picking routes, and lets me move a bit faster than others, so I’ll go up first,” Kiria explained. “You follow behind me and try to match my movements.”

“And if I lose my grip and fall?” I asked, frowning.

“Then I’ll hear your screams and leap down to save you.” Kiria said with a smile.

Resigned, I said, “Let’s get this over with, then. After you.”

Kiria stepped forward and, with a flourish, leaped right up onto the cliff and latched onto a set of protruding rocks. Somehow I doubted that my sandals would make for good climbing footwear, so I stuffed them in my pack, checking that it was tightly secured to my back. I also ensured that my waterskins and rope dart were fastened to my belt, along with the smaller pouch that now stored the four steel fangs I’d made with my [Diffusion] practice in place of the stones.

When I looked back up at the cliff, Kiria was already about five meters above me. “This first part’s not too hard, come on!”

I took a deep breath, then reached for a handhold with which to pull myself up. It was a lot more awkward than I’d thought, seeing how deftly Kiria had taken to her climb. Whether by feline instincts or her own [Climbing] skill, Kiria made the process look a whole lot easier than I felt it was.

When I brought my feet to a rocky ledge mere inches above the ground, I already felt unsteady. Like I was going to lose my grip or balance and fall.

Okay, let’s get a hold of myself. It’ll be alright. Kiria’s magic can’t bring us up, but it can keep us from getting injured. And who knows what kind of improvements my stat increases have caused? I’ve only gained two levels, whatever that truly means, but my Strength and Vitality have both increased. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

Once I calmed down, I reached for the next largest rock up, one with rough features I felt I could grab onto, and pulled myself up. The strain on my arms climbed rapidly, and it took all my strength to make it a single step up. I couldn’t see how I was supposed to make it all the way to the tunnel.

“Climb with your feet, not your hands!” Kiria called out, hearing my grunts of effort. She paused in her ascent to advise me. “When you carry something heavy, you hold it from the bottom, right? It’s the same with your body. Your legs are a lot stronger than your hands, and will support your weight. Keep your arms straight. Use them to maintain your balance, and push yourself up with your legs.”

I nodded, then remembered she wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. “Okay! I’ll give it a try.”

Following her counsel, I bent my knee up and set my foot into another gap in the cliff. Fortunately, this was not a smooth surface, and there were plenty of places to hold onto, though I would’ve preferred if any of them were large enough to properly sit on and rest. Once my foot was set, I extended my leg back out, reached for the next set of hand holds to keep myself steady. Now I was half a meter above the ground.

“Good! Just like that, Micah!” Said Kiria, cheering me on. “You can do it! Keep that up and we’ll be up the mountain in no time!”

Her inexhaustible enthusiasm brought a smile to my face. While I wasn’t exactly happy about this surprise rock-climbing endeavor, knowing I had her support at least gave me the courage to keep moving forward. Or upward, rather.

Unwilling to waste more time, I bent my knee, positioned my other foot on the next foot hold up, and pushed. Step by step, I slowly climbed the mountain, deftly guided by Kiria. Since she was far faster than me, she would test several different routes and relay to me the easiest of them. I also suspected that she had been helping shape finger grips in some of the more difficult rocks, as more than once I encountered a rock that looked otherwise smooth except for small indentations along the top.

Not that I minded, of course. In fact, I was exceedingly grateful for any assistance I could get. I wasn’t the type of person too proud to accept help.

And boy was I glad for it. About halfway up the cliff, the ledge I’d selected for my next step suddenly snapped, sending the rock tumbling down below. I listed backward, almost in slow motion as I desperately sought a way to catch myself. My heart pounded against my chest, audible within my head. At that moment, a platform of air appeared right where my foot had moved, catching me before I fell.

My heart paused, stuttering in shock. “Hurry! Climb to next rock!” Kiria urged, one hand outstretched. Not to help me up, but to sustain her magic, which I finally recognized as her [Air Hop] skill.

I didn’t want to tax her any more than I already had, and moved to comply. Seconds later, I was securely back on the cliff, panting as the stress gradually dissipated. “That was too close,” I said, grateful for her good hearing and swift reaction time. “Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Kiria said, trying to sound nonchalant. But I could hear the relief in her voice as well. “Take a short break. We can continue when you’re ready.”

After a couple minutes, just enough time to calm my mind and convince it I wasn’t dying, I resumed my trek up the rock face. I took it a bit slower this time, testing the strength of each foothold before placing my weight on it. Fortunately, my constitution was enough to endure this strenuous effort. My fingers and hands were as cramped as my toes and feet, but I pushed through with everything I had. I would not fall here. Not after coming so far already.

Our ascent continued.

Step by step.

Rock by rock.

Lift, set, reach, push, repeat.

These motions transformed from instruction to instinct. My mind blanked; my body moving of its own accord.

The Sun blazed upon my back, sweat dripping down my face and coating my hands. I ignored it all. There was enough of a breeze to keep me cool, and I moved with careful deliberation. Kiria continued to discover the easiest routes the entire time, likely traveling ten or twenty times more than me to fulfill her role as my [Scout].

Eventually, at long last, my hand gripped not another rock, but the outstretched hand of Kiria. With a strength that belied her frame, she pulled me that final distance up to the mouth of the tunnel entrance. I exhaled in stark relief, greedily gulping down the contents of the waterskin that somehow appeared in my mouth.

“Great job, Micah,” Kiria said, patting my back. “You were amazing. Take as long a rest as you need. It’s easy going from here.”

I gasped for air after the long drink. But despite it all, a smile worked its way onto my face. One born not of relief, but of pride. Still, however.

“I could go for easy.”