“Tin, you uh, planning on retrieving that spear of yours?” Raj’ken eyed the sloppy mess the spear sat in. Tin’lo’s grimace said all she needed to hear and she walked away with a hidden smirk.

“I’ll be honest. I’m debating if I want to clean that off.” Tin’lo grimaced as they investigated the black slop that melted in wide puddles around the spear; very little remained of the spiders save for the random leg that hadn’t quite melted down.

“Also, it wasn’t clear when I used it if it would be safe to approach until it was done,” Tin’lo admitted.

“You used a weapon that spread some kind of flesh melting plague without knowing if it would stop?” Raj’ken shot a judgemental glare at Tin’lo, who backed up a step with his hands up.

“It’s fine, the spear was designed to pick up on the user’s intentions to determine targets,” Trat’catha interjected to keep the situation from getting more tense.

“I had the impression it would work out,” Tin’lo defended, then, after a moment of consideration, added, “But, you’re right. It was risky, and I’m sorry.”

“Maybe next time give us a heads up at least. It did look pretty cool, though.” Raj’ken relented and stood closer to Thu’lain. “Time to move?”

“Yeah. Sooner we get moving the better.”

Thu’lain looked back and noticed Il’tan and Hret searching fervently for any signs of El’tan’s passing despite having already checked the area several times over. He wouldn’t interrupt them yet; the longer they went without any sign of El’tan, the more they would need to consider that she was dead.

They’ll need to come to the realization themselves if that’s the case.

Thu’lain turned and began walking across the bridge.

“Hey, it’s time to get a move on,” Anar’dea said delicately to Il’tan and Hret.

“No, I have to be sure.” Il’tan responded, with desperation starting to edge into her voice.

“You’ve both checked the area several times, there’s been no sign of her. It’s okay, we’ll keep looking for her.” Anar’dea moved closer to urge Il’tan forward.

“No! You don’t get it! If she came this way she’s dead! You saw how many spiders came up over the side!” Il’tan shouted at Anar’dea and she flinched away in shock. “She was alone. . . and she wasn’t like you. Not a fighter like you, or him.” Il’tan shot a glance toward Thu’lain. She closed her arms around herself and started to tremble. Hret wrapped Il’tan in his arms, comforting her as she began to cry. He looked just as lost as his daughter.

“It may hurt. But don’t give up yet. It’s okay to search for her, but you have to keep going. I’ve been there. My parents, my brother, my… I know what you are feeling.” Anar’dea squeezed Il’tan’s hand, and she squeezed back, only peeling her head away once the tears had started slowing.

“I-hiccup- I. . . thank you.” Il’tan smiled and peeled herself out of Hret’s embrace. “I’m okay,” Il’tan said and took a deep breath. “I’m good now. Yeah. You’re right. We have to keep going.”

“We’re going to find her. No matter what.” Hret promised as he patted her head. His back straightened and he raised his head high. “She’s tougher than you give her credit for.” He looked over Il’tan’s head and mouthed the words ‘Thank you’ to Anar’dea before coaxing Il’tan forward.

Anar’dea stayed close by to support Il’tan as they crossed the bridge, doing their best not to slip or trip on any melted spider.

After crossing the bridge and passing nearly thirty paces, Anar’dea heard the distinct clink of metal underfoot. Both Il’tan and Hret paused as well, and Anar’dea knelt down and felt around in the snow for a moment, pulling out a sturdy steel dagger from the snow.

“It’s hers!” Il’tan practically pounced on the dagger, taking it from Anar’dea’s outstretched hands.

“That’s El’tan’s? You’re sure?” Anar’dea asked, and immediately began searching the snow for any other signs of her passing. Eager to prove that her mother’s corpse wasn’t just sitting beneath the surface of the snow. Her search was stopped by an unexpected sound - Il’tan happily laughing.

Is she losing it?

Anar’dea looked back at Il’tan with concern.

“Il’tan?” she said, carefully. Il’tan didn’t seem to notice the wary expression and started to leap around. Hret also had a small smile.

Why are they- ah.

“She made it! The fact that this was on this side of the bridge means she got away from them! There’s no way she would have gotten across if they noticed her first. She must have dropped this outrunning them!” Il’tan held up the dagger and had such a look of conviction in her eyes that Anar’dea found it difficult to be skeptical.

“What happened?”

Thu’lain came back to check on them instead of pushing the group ahead. Anar’dea saw that he noticed the dagger in Il’tan’s hands quickly, and the severe expression crossed his face for a moment before being schooled into a neutral expression.

What’s he thinking?

Anar’dea tried to pick out the details of the dagger but failed to notice anything in particular.

“My mom’s alive still. This is her dagger! She made it past the bridge.” Il’tan still smiled and cried out in joy and excitement, her tail whipping back and forth quickly.

“Oh! That’s great! We’re on the right path, then!” Raj’ken shared her excitement and Anar’dea couldn’t help but join in.

“We should pick up the pace; we may be able to catch up to her,” Raj’ken urged, and both Il’tan and Hret were eager to agree. Hal, Hesa, and their sons were excited as well and started moving quickly. At the head of their group, the other gaur, Grond, was already striding ahead in the company of Tu’lar and Tin’lo.

“Trat’catha, how much longer to Anosora?” Anar’dea asked, and Trat’catha considered the question for a few minutes while they walked.

“Well, if the highway is intact the whole way, it will cut weeks off our travel. So, assuming that it is intact and we don’t need to take a detour anywhere, we are four days of easy hiking away. Three if we hustle.” Trat’catha nodded.

“And if the highway is broken in a few places?” Raj’ken clarified.

“If it’s just a matter of walking on uneven ground, not much difference. But there are a few bridges that cross areas that will take days on their own to climb down and back up. At least two of them go from cliffside to cliffside with a sheer drop of a few thousand feet. It’s entirely likely that they are still there, but if even one of them is gone...” Trat’catha shook his head. “If one is gone, then we will need to go around, and, with our supplies, we’d need to take more time to forage for food.”

“Suffice to say, it would add weeks to our journey. Naturally, I’m hoping for four days, three if we can keep the pace.” Trat’catha kept walking forward.

“I hope for three days, too.” Il’tan murmured from the side, “I just hope mom’s still alive.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not dead yet, passed out again.

Purple eyes blinked open despite being crusted shut and - for the most part - unresponsive, her whole body hurt, and she could say that every part of her was in pain or discomfort, though she wished it was less pain. Her vision remained bleary even as she blinked, and her eyesight only became clear after several minutes of determined blinking.

Still in the tree.

Her right arm was completely unresponsive, though she didn’t dare do more than a cursory twitch. She no longer knew how long she’d been stuck, impaled through the shoulder on a tree limb. It still hurt terribly, but once you feel the worst pain in your life and it keeps going, and going, and going, eventually it becomes your life.

At least the tissue around it has healed.

There was a fist-thick blood-covered branch sticking through her right shoulder just around her collar bone, enough to prevent the arm from doing anything more than being connected, but not enough to rip it from her body.

At least it’s keeping me out of harm's way.

In any other situation, she would have pulled herself off the branch and just fallen to the ground, but this wasn’t a normal situation. The edge of the branch came to an abrupt end as if it had been sawn off.

Ah, I did do that. I guess I passed out from the pain.

She checked her left side near where her arm dangled, being careful not to move any more than absolutely necessary.

Sheath is there, but the dagger is gone. Spirits, I must have fumbled it.

She carefully surveyed the area around her: gone were the drifts of snow and mountaintops, the cliff-sides and the giant spiders, and instead she saw shimmering water all around her, spreading out with little more than grass growing from the pond's edges. Lily pads and flowers grew sparsely along the surface of the water and, just below the surface of the shining water, she could see inky blackness shifting.

Damn this thing. I guess it was too much to hope it would die from having a tree lodged in it.

Her own position in the center of the pool was an unusual one to be sure: she was impaled on one of many broken branches on a tree that itself was stuck like a flagpole in a terrible creature that shifted parts and forms constantly as she could see it. On one hand, she was thankful she kept passing out so she wouldn’t have to look at the horrible thing so much, but, on the other, her fevered dreams were filled with what she had seen of the creature.

Never thought I’d end up seeing Uch’l’thein like this.

She stopped herself before she could shake her head; it really didn’t take much to draw Uch’l’thein’s curiosity, and she’d had more encounters with its slithering tendrils snaking around investigating anything even remotely interesting, though thus far she’d avoided getting too close to any of the tendrils.

Those tendrils lead to death.

She shut her eyes, trying not to relive the apex pursuing her; the chaos that came when Uch’l’thein rampaged through it and the forest - knocking over a tree and impaling her on one of its fractured limbs. Instead, she had a fresher memory of spiders being torn to pieces, though they’d bought her some time to saw the branch down to size; not all bad after all.

I can’t stay here forever. I’ll have to risk attracting its attention if I’m going to get this branch out of me.

She could feel the aching dehydration, combined with long term blood loss, and knew that she had another day at most before she’d grow too weak to pull herself off the branch.

How long have I been unconscious? Or even been stuck in this tree.

She was irritated, but swallowed it down before it could force her to make any rash decisions. The day was still young, and sunlight was illuminating the area around her. It wasn’t until the light revealed tall walls and ruined buildings in the distance that she realized where she was.

I’m in the Eternal pools. The ruins of Anosora. But why?

She felt with her senses, struggling to feel the essence that she’d hoped would have returned here, only to be disappointed by its absence.

Maybe that would be asking too much.

She looked down into the lightly golden waters, searching for any signs that Uch’l’thein was active, but found that it had almost completely stopped moving, almost like it had gone to sleep. Or, more accurately, that it lay dormant.

Uch’l’thein remained dormant for the next hour.

It’s now or never.

Slowly and steadily, she gripped the branch with her left hand and pulled herself forward. Through clenched teeth and closed eyes, she felt the wood fibres and bark grind against her torn flesh, only stopping when the stump of the branch was flush with the wound - pulling herself any further would remove her from the branch and send her falling.

Finally, she allowed herself to breathe and leaned her face forward. She opened her eyes and looked down to the waters below.

It’s still dormant. Good.

She thought about how to go about the next part; the last thing she needed was to go falling to the water below.

I can reach the trunk with my legs. I can push myself the rest of the way off and hold onto another branch with my other arm. I can do this.

She steeled her resolve, knowing that failure meant passing out once more, and possibly for the last time. Then she pushed herself off the trunk, executing her plan perfectly, though - even mentally prepared as she was - it took all of her willpower to stay conscious as the pain ripped through her body, the stub of the branch tearing against the inside of her shoulder as she fell from it.

She sucked in air and refused to release her grip on the other branch, but nearly lost her grip on what was left of her consciousness.

She was numb to the blood that began to drip from the newly opened wound, and the drip drip drip as it fell to the water below.

I did it. If I can make it a little longer, I’ll heal and then -

Her vision returned and revealed a black sinewy tendril inches from her face. She nearly screamed in fear, only stopping herself by biting her lip.

Maybe it doesn’t know I’m here.

The tip of the tendril bulked into a bulb before a seam split across its surface opening into an eye that stared at her as she stared at it.

The slit eye studied her coldly before closing and returning to its tendril form and, as it coiled around her waist, she began to sob. No amount of strength she could muster could keep her hold of the branch and she couldn’t help but imagine the horrible death awaiting in the maw below.

She couldn’t bear to open her eyes again.

With tremendous force, she was yanked from the tree and she screamed out in pain and despair.

She hit the ground with a terrible impact, rolling over and over across the soft grass and soil of the beach that had been so far out of reach. The air was knocked completely out of her, and she retched into the grass.

I’m not dead?

She turned her head towards the pond and saw the inky black creature feet away from her and she shuddered. There were so many eyes looking at her, some slit, some normal pupils, and some so alien she had no words to describe them. That moment spread across eternity as Uch’l’thein’s stare bore into her soul. She could feel the itch of madness, but there was some knowing glint in its many eyes that promised sentience.

Some sound came from the distance that she couldn’t place. It repeated over and over, until her shock faded just enough to hear it.

“Mom!! Where are you!?” A voice cried out.

“El’tan! We’re coming! Say something!” Another voice, masculine, familiar somehow.

The monstrosity in front of her stirred, some of its eyes looking around, and something in her snapped.

El’tan screamed through her pain and fear, but her guttural call came out too incoherent to understand; she could not convey in words how much she wanted to send her family away from certain death.

“Mom! Dad, I think I heard her again!” Il’tan cried out in the distance.

El’tan watched in terror as Uch’l’thein changed in front of her, the many eyes warping or just opening as if burst: teeth and tongues were suddenly everywhere she could see, and all at once every mouth cried out in Il’tan’s voice, chilling her to her soul.

“El’tan! We’re coming! Say something!”