Flanked by the twins, Emily trotted along beneath the endless sky.

They had caught up to the boys after not more than an hour, though they kept the distance to a couple hundred feet, as to give them the space they apparently wanted. They walked like that for mile after mile; the boys at the front with the compass—a magical tool, Yu explained, one that contained a small magical crystal and always pointed towards a larger one in Vigilfell—and the twins with Emily a few paces behind. Beside the twins, the wind was her constant companion, waving he grass, rustling her hair, and howling in her ears. It was the only thing that moved on the plain, and yet it was as constant as the empty horizon and the endlessly rolling hills.

As constant as the sun upon their backs; a sun that showed no intention of letting up, and as the day marched on, the temperature rose. From a manageable warmth in the morning, to an unbearable heat in the afternoon. It was worst for Emily, as the morning before she had dressed for the freezing heights of the holy mountain in early spring, not an open plain in the heights of summer. Her tunic was made of layers of fine wool, meant to be worn under chain mail and protect her from both the cold, heavy strikes, and chaffing metal, none of which she needed at that moment. Below it, pants of heavy linen served much the same purpose, but there wasn’t much she could do about them, nor her shin-high boots. She actually found herself envious of the twins’ shorts, for despite their impractical nature in battle, they sure looked quite comfortable outside of it.

Emily managed a few more hours, before surrendering to the heat right before noon, and pulling off her tunic, shocking the twins into a shriek, for the bandeau Emily had tied around her chest did not leave much to the imagination. Louie looked back at the sudden sound, but quickly turned away, his neck turning a brighter shade of red than only sunburn could explain. After a glance back from Rory, which Emily answered with a questioning raise of an eyebrow, both boys kept their heads strictly forward.

She knew a sunburn of her own was inevitable, but tied the tunic around her waist either way, enjoying the temporary reprieve of the refreshing breeze upon her sweaty skin. For a moment Ann tried to be a copycat by stripping herself of her tunic, but Yu stopped her by holding her leather chest-piece in place. Not that the twins needed to; they both seemed to handle the heat much better than Emily, probably because they’d grown up in an even warmer environment, or maybe it had something to do with being part cat, Emily could only guess.

Though part cat or not, they were quite human as they spent the next hour or so fawning over Emily’s physique. Decades of war; of fighting and practicing with every weapon imaginable had given her a toned body, with muscles defined by hard lines along her stomach, arms, and back. She’d tolerated the twins prodding at her, ohing and ahing for a while, before swatting them away. Though she could see newfound awe shining in their eyes afterwards, and they continued to sneak glances at her until she put the tunic back on when the sun began to set.

They stopped around noon for a quick lunch. The boys kept their distance, but were close enough for all of them to be considered a party, though they kept their gazes firmly pointed away from the twins and Emily. Ann and Yu dropped their packs and their weapons on the ground, before kneeling down on the grass. Emily sat down before them, her legs crossed.

“I hope you like dried meat,” Yu said as she dug around on her pack. “Because that’s all we’ve got.”

“That and flatbread,” Ann added, digging around her own pack. “And some seeds, but those are for Roco. Here you go little buddy.”

“Dried meat and flatbread is fine,” Emily said, and accepted the offered food. “I’ve been living on mostly army rations for a couple of years already. A few more such meals won’t make a difference.” She took a bite of the bread. It was dry, as flatbread tended to be, but tasted fine, heightened by the sweet flavor of honey. The meat tasted mostly of salt and leather, but again, it was fine. It was certainly better than some of the food she had been forced to eat after the harvests turned up naught but diseased plants in the mad gods’ wake.

Yu offered her a waterskin to wash down the dry food. Emily accepted it, but found it to be running empty. “What do you do when the water runs out?” she asked as she took a conservative gulp.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Yu said and pulled out a strange contraption from her bag. It looked like a vial—about the size of her closed fist—made of metal. She handed it over to Emily, saying, “We just use this to make more whenever the skins run dry.”

Emily accepted the vial, and raised an eyebrow as she sensed it resonate with a faint magic. It felt a little like the crystal on her hip, but much weaker. She ran her fingers across its skin and found its underside to be inscribed, turning it over, she found what looked like a magical rune; a two circles within each other, the space between them filled with letters and the inner circle containing smaller circles and waves in a strange pattern.

“Reisha thjórn,” Emily mumbled. She felt an inkling of magic react within her, but she had far from enough for the spell to activate. But neither did the vial activate, remaining as inert as a block of steel. Perhaps the spell engraved upon it wasn’t how it was activated. “How do you use it?” she asked, looking up to the twins. Only to find them looking at her with a strange expression. “I suppose you didn’t know? What is said under the vial, that is.”

The twins shook their heads.

“The woman in the shop told us no one can read it,” Yu said. “That it’s just copied from ancient texts.”

“Do you know what it means?”

“Well, that’s mostly true,” Emily said, addressing Yu first. “I’m a bit of an odd one. Even on Mónvell, there were only two people that could read and speak ancient Dwarvish; me and my husband, Alex. And it roughly translates to ‘Collect Water,’ a pretty simple spell.”

“Hold it right there!” the twins shouted in a chorus, before falling out of sync in a frenzy of questions.

“What do you mean husband?”

“Are you married?”

“We slept with you…”

“Where’s your wedding band?”

“Is he going to be mad?”

“Is he cute?”

With every question the twins came closer, until the were practically on top of Emily, she held up her hands to silence them. “No,” she said to Yu. “Don’t worry.” Then she turned to Ann. “Yes, but that’s beside the point.”

Yu sighed, looking relieved as Ann squealed.

“Where is he now?”

“Somewhere on this world—I think—but I don’t actually know.”

“You don’t know?”

“We got separated,” Emily said, a harsh beat of her heart let her know exactly how she felt about that. “It happens sometimes,” she finished softly, closing her eyes for a moment to stop them burning. When she opened them, there was not a trace of her sudden loss of composure. She brought up the vial, and said in a chipper tone, “Now, back to his vial, how does it work?”

"But—”

“No more questions about Alex,” Emily interrupted in a tone that brooked no argument. “He’d be more than happy to answer them himself… eventually.”

The twins shared a look Emily couldn’t decipher, then Yu reached out and accepted the vial from Emily. “It’s pretty easy to use,” she said. “It runs on magical crystals; the ones from the small spiders.” She twisted the bottom until it came off, revealing a small, empty compartment. Ann then produced a thick leather pouch from the bottom of her pack, and a glove from the same material, which she put on. Then, whilst being as careful as a cat at the top of a tree, she opened the pouch and, using her gloved hand, she took out a crystal, placing it within the upturned vial Yu held out to her. Yu then screwed the bottom back on and Ann put the pouch and glove back in her pack.

“Now that it’s powered,” Yu said as Ann picked up a waterskin. “You just place your hand against the bottom.” She did as she explained, and after a moment water began flowing out of the vial into the waterskin Ann held underneath. “And let the water flow.”

“Huh,” Emily said. “I’ve seen magical tools before, but nothing quite like this. How expensive are they?”

“We got this one cheap,” Yu said. Four silver, I think.”

“Usually they go for seven, or more.”

“I think the woman in the shop liked us.”

“And we only needed one for two. Most people get their own.”

Emily nodded. “And the crystals, how long do they last?” From how much magic the crystal she had used to heal Ann had contained, she’d guess about nine waterskins. Though, that’s assuming and average humidity comparable to the what they had in Gra’Tinit, the old capital.

“Eight waterskins,” Yu said. “Sometimes nine. But that’s rare.”

Emily nodded again. “I see,” she said. “That’s quite convenient to have, and important, I imagine. How long have you been out here, killing monsters for crystals?”

“A week and one day,” Ann said. “And this is our third time out.”

“It’s been almost a month since we came to Vigilfell, and a month and a half since the midsummer festival, Naxim.”

“Midsummer festival?”

“It’s the celebration of life, when everyone grows one year older.”

“This midsummer we became adults,” Ann said and puffed out her chest. “That’s why we are here; to see the world now that we are no longer children.”

“Right,” Emily mumbled, unconvinced. “Does everyone grow older on midsummer?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Even those who weren’t born around midsummer?”

“What do you mean?”

“But everyone is born around midsummer.”

“How can everyone be born around midsummer?”

“Because mates are chosen at the Escoll festival at the beginning of autumn.”

Emily ran a hand through her hair, there was so much she didn’t know. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll have to take a crash course in local cultures, I think. But that’ll have to wait—Rory and Louie are moving again.”

They quickly packed up, and the twins pulled the packs over their shoulders with soft groans.

“Are the packs heavy?” Emily asked.

“Yes,” Ann said, and grimaced as Roco clambered up her bare leg.

“Not as heavy as when we set out, though,” Yu added.

Emily reached out a hand to Yu. “I’ll carry your pack for a bit, then you can swap with Ann. Don’t argue, I want to help out.”

The pack was made of soft leather, and sat nicely upon Emily’s shoulders and back. It was heavy, ladened as it was with equipment and supplies, but not heavier than the armor she had already dropped, and far from heavy enough to impede her movements. With everything ready they set off again, following the boys across the sea of grass.

***

It was in the late afternoon, when the sun had begun to fall towards the horizon, that Emily spotted another group of adventures traveling out towards the plain, riding what Yu and Ann quickly ensured her were not any sort of monster, but one of this world’s beasts of burden. Giant flightless birds—moas—their long legs devouring the miles in giant leaps, their bodies and the riders thereupon bouncing up and down with smooth movements. They were a party of six people, each riding their own moa in a column of two by four, for they had two extra moas at the back, ladled with saddle bags. They were heading southwest, Yu explained, towards an area far out on the plain were more dangerous—and more rewarding—dungeons could be found.

When the distance between the groups were at its shortest, perhaps half a mile, one of he adventurers riding at the back of the column sat up straighter and waved, Emily thought she could see cat ears standing on their head. Ann and Yu waved back.

“That was Nilia, our sister,” Ann said when the riders vanished into a dale. “She’s our sister.”

“Older sister, three years older.”

“She’s the one that recommended we come to Vigilfell and sign up with he adventurers guild. She even gave us a few gifts and some advice to get us started.”

Emily looked at the spot where the party had vanished for view for a moment, then turned back to follow boys. “Did she introduce you to those two?” she asked and nodded forward.

Ann walked up on Emily’s left and shook her head. “No, they found us through the guild.”

“The guild recommends at least four people for a party—”

“—and won’t give locations to parties with less than three—”

“—so we put up and advert looking for more people,” Yu finished.

“And they answered,” Emily finished, casting her eyes forward. “Do you know how experienced they actually are? They don’t seem much older than you two.”

The twins shook their heads.

“We think Rory is eighteen, and Louie seventeen.”

“But that’s just guessing, they won’t tell us if we are right.”

“And their fighting prowess?”

“Not better than us.”

“And terrible at tracking.”

“That’s how we ended up at the Guardian.”

“We were following Louie the day before yesterday, and he led us straight into a trap.”

“We were lucky the alcoves were open, so we could hide.”

Emily hummed. “What would you have done if I hadn’t arrived? You didn’t have your packs with you, so you would have gone without food.”

“We had a little food with us,” Ann mumbled.

“We would have had to wait for the guild to send someone,” Yu explained. “They keep track of all known dungeons, and distribute their locations to parties of adventurers If a party doesn’t come back within a certain amount of time, a rescue party is sent out.”

“And then you have to pay them,” Ann added. “That’s what Nilia told us: make sure you don’t need to be rescued, or you’ll be in debt with the guild forever.

Emily chuckled. “That’s why you were asking me about debt? Either way, it sounds like you were both quite lucky and unlucky this time. But let me give you a piece of advice, not as Emily the rescuer, or Emily the imperial knight, but as Emily the hired swordswoman: If you need to put your life in someone’s hands, make sure they are strong enough to hold your weight. It’s no good to be standing back to back with a warrior you thought could hold their own, only for them to fall to the first opponent they meet.”

The twins gave each other a look, and said, “We’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good,” Emily said and rolled her shoulders to adjust the pack on her back. “Come now, I’m sure we can make a few more miles before dark.”

***

They could, in fact, do a few more miles before dark, and even after dark, as it turned out. When they finally stopped, the sun had long since given way to the two moons and the plains were shrouded in darkness. Rory and Louie had stopped on the top of a hill, from where they could be seen for miles around. Emily had decided that was a bad idea, and instead placed herself and the twins in a valley, from which they could see the boys, but couldn’t be seen from more than a couple hundred paces. She had quickly put the pouch with the crystal a fair bit away from them, glad to be rid of the buzzing stone for a few hours. The magic wasn’t dangerous to her, but it was irritating, and the constant buzzing had started to rake on her nerves.

In their small temporary camp, the mood had been quite somber at first, as they could not start a fire, for there was nothing to burn but grass. The air did quickly lose its warmth, and the evening turned cool, a welcome change to for Emily’s overheated self. But the cool air soon turned cold as any warmth escaped through the cloudless sky, canvased in in stars and the thick streak of the galaxy.

The cold had a strong effect on the twins, and Emily soon surrendered to their enormously round eyes, which glowed softly in the night as they leveled them at her better than any puppy she had ever seen. They snuggled up on either side of her as she sat cross-legged on the ground, and Ann covered all of them in a blanket she’d pulled out of her seemingly bottomless pack. Yu then—to Emily’s surprise—pulled a flute out of hers, and soon a soft melody drifted through the night.

The flute was a simple affair, not much more than a hollowed stick with some holes; nothing like the perfectly crafted instruments of ivory and gold she had learned to play on more than half a century prior. Yet its shining surface and delightful carvings showed how much it was treasured, and it produced a wonderful sound as Yu navigated its small and peculiarities.

“Yu’s the best flute player in the tribe,” Ann whispered proudly in Emily’s ear halfway through the second melody. “She surpassed our grandmother when she was only twelve.”

Emily hummed. “She is quite splendid.”

Yu’s cheeks colored in at the praise, but she didn’t miss a beat, and her ears were pricked forward, rotating a little now and then to catch her own melody. Ann leaned her head on Emily’s shoulder, which Emily allowed, at least for the moment. The girl’s eyes grew heavy and her breathing calm, and as Yu dove into a new melody, a slow and peaceful harmony, her breathing grew calm, and soon she fell asleep, resting on Emily’s shoulder.

When the melody was at an end, Yu dropped the flute to her lap. “Is she asleep?” she mumbled.

Emily hummed softly and laid an arm around Ann, who snuggled closer at the touch. “She is. You played a lullaby you knew would put her to sleep, didn’t you?”

Yu looked away at the accusation, but didn’t deny it, instead she packed away her flute. “She’s had it harder than me,” she said after the flute had been put in a protective case of hardened leather. “Sleeping, that is. She never slept alone, not even when we learned to hunt.”

Emily smiled as Ann began to purr into her side. “Are you the older twin?”

“I am,” Yu giggled. “Was it that obvious?”

“It was. Not that I would know what it’s like, I was an only child, after all.”

“Was it lonely? Not having any siblings?”

“A bit,” Emily said and lowered herself and Ann to the ground, letting the girl use her arms as a pillow. “But that’s far in the past now, and something I would rather not talk about. Come, we should sleep, I suspect we still have a bit of a trek tomorrow.”

Yu hesitated, her eyes glowing in the dark. “Is it really okay? Your husband won’t be mad?”

“He won’t,” Emily smiled. “I promise.”

Yu gave another glance, then she shrugged and lay down beside Emily, soon snuggling into her side, just like her sister. “Goodnight,” she mumbled.

“Goodnight,” Emily answered. It didn’t take long before Yu was fast asleep, and moments later she had entwined herself with Emily, legs and arms crossing each other like gnarled roots. Emily couldn’t help but smile, as she lay there, flanked by the kittens. Their tails and ears flitted in their sleep, and now and then they would purr for a moment or two. It was peaceful, comfortable; serene in a most pleasant way, and before she fell asleep, she wished Alex could have been there to share it with her.