You’re taking a huge risk, dear boy, Nil said.

The old echo was not at all pleased with what Dallion had done, although he had become a lot calmer since they had left the Star’s pyramid. Virtually everything in the temple was made to be a trap for suspecting and unsuspecting alike. Dallion had found that the hard way. Even now it broke his heart thinking of the amount of special metals left behind. He knew that was for the best, but there was one he could keep himself from taking—the Swiss army knife from Earth.

Are you sure you want to keep it? You can just toss it in the sand.

“Unless the Moons are against it, I’m keeping it,” Dallion replied. He had every reason to listen to Nil. Normally, he would have. However, this was an item that was made on Earth, and while he saw no particular use of having a tin box, the pocketknife was small enough to take with him. Still, he was going to try and ask the Moons for advice during the night.

I don’t get it either, Gleam said. It’s small, easily breakable, and you can’t eve take it with you in the realms.

It’s got a really cool design, though, Onda said. Of all the guardians, the nymph was the only one who was fascinated by the object to the point he wanted Dallion to make a replica of it using “proper materials.” Dallion had no response to that, especially since he had no way of explaining what exactly “plastic” was. As far as everyone was concerned, this was the rarest material in the world; absolutely useless, but undeniably rare.

“We’ve six days to find what we came for,” Dallion said. “Gleam, Lux, go back to searching for towers. Meanwhile, I’ll continue heading south.”

If I come across something, this time I want to be the one to kill it, Gleam said, as the whip blade went up in the air. Moments later, she disappeared into the distance. The kaleidervisto soon followed. Once again, only the shardflies remained. Taking one final glance at the pyramid behind him, Dallion walked in.

Crossing the patch of sand was exhausting. Dallion was used to the scorching sun, but nowhere did it feel as harsh as here? Neither the pleasant draft the shardflies caused by flapping their wings at him, not the water skins were barely enough to lessen it slightly. Even so, Dallion kept on.

By evening, the heat had kept up even more. Dallion had managed to reach another part of the jungle, replacing the scorching sun with boiling humidity. After a few hours, he wasn’t sure which of the two was worse. Lux and Gleam had managed to scout far enough to find what potentially could be the towers the seagull had described. Given that there were no other clues, Dallion decided to head in that direction. Before that, though, he was going to have a quick nap again.

“Guys, you know what to do,” he told the shardflies.

Laying down, Dallion expected at least one of his guardians to say something. None of them did. All of them were feeling tense about being here, Harp and Vihrogon most of all. It was almost as if this place brought memories they wished to forget. Onda, on the other hand, had been completely “chill” seeing nothing special. Given that he was undoubtedly older than Vihrogon by a few millennia, that posed a few questions. Was it possible that he hadn’t been involved in the war effort at the time? That didn’t make much sense, either.

Resting against his backpack, Dallion closed his eyes. What seemed like a moment later, he opened them again, only to see the entire landscape changed. He was still in a desert, but all the plants were gone, replaced by endless dunes of green sand. A single Moon was in the sky, larger than Dallion had ever seen it.

“Felygn?” Dallion stood up.

“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that,” the Moon said. A smirk could be heard in its words. “The echo was right. There was no point in taking the knife.”

“Is it corrupted?” a wave of fear swept through Dallion, causing drops of sweat to cover his face.

“No, just pointless. There’s nothing you can do with it that your other weapons can’t. It’s doubtful you’ll even be able to sell it.”

“How is it here?” Dallion asked. “I thought nothing could cross between worlds.” If that wasn’t the case, Dallion would still have his phone, among other things.

“Vermilions aren’t the only things that can pull things between worlds. With enough power, you can take things from other places.”

“So, the Star is from Earth?”

A moment of silence followed.

“Everything points to it,” Dallion said. “His knowledge of events, of technology, the items I found…”

“I know a lot about your world as well. Do I come from there as well?”

“I don’t know.” Dallion thought for a moment. “You might.”

“And so might the Star.”

“Why can’t you tell me? Does it make such a big difference if I know? Or do I have to go through my next gate to find out?”

“Knowing won’t help you, neither would knowing the history of this place.”

Always the same answer. Dallion was starting to get used to it. There was a time when Dallion was annoyed at people keeping secrets from him. All that paled in comparison to the secrets the Moons knew and kept to themselves. That seemed to be the constant in this world: the more someone knew the more secrets they kept.

“If you’re not here to help me, why did you agree to the talk?” Dallion asked. Normally, when the Moons reached Dallion through dreams, it was on their whim. “Will you help me find the dragonet?”

“You know the answer to that. I can’t tell you anything about your task or the nature of the Star. However, I can give you some advice on what to do when you face him?”

“The Star is here?”

“The Star is wherever he pleases. At some point, you’ll cross paths again. It might be here, now, it might be a decade in the future, but at some point, the two of you will collide. Assuming you survive until then.”

One had to hand it to the Moons. Their prep talks weren’t particularly inspiring.

“Are you allowed to do that?”

“Yes, and no.” The Moon glowed brighter. “As with many things, there’s a loophole. I cannot help or guide you. But I can comment on things you have done.”

How’s that different from guiding? Dallion thought. The dimming of the Moon indicated that the deity ignored the question.

“You’ve faced him twice before,” the Moon continued. “And won twice. How?”

“There were others to help me,” Dallion said without hesitation. His victory was largely due to Euryale’s actions and the copyette’s involvement. Dallion had never faced the Star directly. If he had, the outcome would have been obvious.

“That’s partially correct.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“As much as I’m allowed to tell you.”

Why did I ever enjoy riddles? Dallion wondered. All that he had to go by was speculation based on hints the Green Moon may or may not have dropped. Taking a deep breath, Dallion thought back.

There were a lot of factors involved during a fight in Nerosal. It was like two armies fighting against one another. It wasn’t Dallion’s skills that had brought him victory, not by a long shot. However, if it wasn’t the people who assisted him, what was left? Nox? The crackling had been present in both instances. During the first encounter, it had clawed through the void that had enveloped Dallion, and in the second, it had challenged the Overseer, shifting the battle towards her.

“Nox?” Dallion asked.

The silence suggested that the answer wasn’t what the Moon was hoping for.

It was a good try, but apparently not the right answer. Maybe it was a principle or logic of some sort? Some weakness that the Moon had that would help level the playing field? According to the rules of the world, everything had to obey the laws of the Moons, even the Star, so if there was something to grant Dallion the advantage, he could rely on it working every time.

What other common elements did my encounters have? Dallion wondered.

Both of them occurred within awakened realms? That was one possibility, but it didn’t help much. The Star was even stronger in the realms than it was in the real world. In both cases, the Icepicker guild was involved. Both times artifacts located there had caused this. Even this time, it was the guild who had requested Dallion’s help in dealing with another artifact. Or, what if it wasn’t the guild, but the person behind it?

“Until you stop focusing on distractions, you’ll never be able to see the core of things,” the Moon said.

Dallion frowned. That potentially meant that everything he had thought of till now was false. However, there didn’t seem to be any other option. So, it wasn’t familiars, it wasn’t gear, it wasn’t friends…

Simplify things, Dallion thought. What would help me if I faced the Star right now?

“Is there a way for me to become your favored once more?” Dallion asked.

“There is nothing more I can help with,” the Moon replied. “Good luck.”

“Wait! That’s—”

Dallion opened his eyes. He was back in the jungle with the Green Moon shining above him. This time, there were no other Moons present.

“Damn it!” Dallion whispered.

His senses told him that a number of creatures had gathered in the area, though were keeping their distance due to the shadflies. In future, though, it would be better if he didn’t risk sleeping. The Moon had already told him everything it was willing to say.

Any luck, dear boy? Nil asked.

Luck was the right word, indeed, but Dallion felt he hadn’t had any. There had to be some hint in what the Moon had said, but trying to figure it out was as vague as the guess that had driven Dallion here.

“We’re heading to the towers,” he said, standing up. As if on cue, the hidden creatures slowly moved away. Dallion could sense their viciousness, but also calm. They weren’t like the ones who had attacked him before. They appeared smart enough to know not to charge foolishly at him. From how on Dallion was going to constantly have to keep his guard up.

Splitting into a dozen instances, Dallion went through his backpack until he found his bestiary. Skimming through its pages, Dallion tried to find clues about the canyon he was in. Unfortunately, of the many species he skimmed through none were said to inhabit this area.

So, the Academy hadn’t reached this far South, Dallion thought. At least not yet.

That was good. It meant he had at least one less thing to worry about.

“Gleam, anything serious between here and the towers?” he asked, adjusting his backpack.

This and that. Nothing significant, although you might have trouble as you are now.

“Any water along the way?”

A bit. You’ll have to take a slight detour.

“That’s fine.” Dallion had no doubt that there would be a number of unpleasant creatures at the water source, but at this point, he needed the water more than avoiding a fight. The reckless side of him urged him to charge head on and use as many of his skills as possible in unison in order to achieve victory. The hunter, part of him, suggested that he take a measured approach, avoiding combat as much as possible. Ultimately, a compromise had to be made. Dallion didn’t have too much time to waste, but he wasn’t planning on being suicidal, either.

Gripping the harpsisword, he continued through the jungle.

I know you’re reading my thoughts, Felygn, Dallion said. Here’s a question I’d like an answer to next time we talk. Was there ever a Moon of humans?