7:24 am, local time. (January 11, 1329)

The stars above are foreign, but seeing Ukila hanging in the sky assures me I remain on Akilo. I gather Smoulder in my arms, basking in her presence alongside the early morning light. As Smoulder purrs against my chest, a whiff of something fruity draws my attention. Next to us is a spilled bag of crushed leaves, which seems to be the source of the scent. Looking around, I spot a nearby grove of trees, the nearest boughs pushed up against the crude building I crawled out of. They’re bent in such a way as to suggest the trees were here first, and the building rose in their midst.

“Smoulder! Where have you run off to, you little rascal,” a familiar voice calls from above, obscured by the thick wavy grass. There’s a quarter of a second where my heart catches, as the feeling reminds me of hearing papa call for me. But while the feeling is the same, the source is different.

His voice sounds off, the pitch lower than I’m used to, yet I’m certain it’s Uthica’s father, Pern. Which is confirmed when his familiar face appears at the edge of the rise just above where I rest. “Ukila’s shadow!”

I wave at him as he yells behind him, though his following words cause me some confusion. “Uthica, an Eldinsworn.”

The explosiveness with which Uthica emerges from the grass leaves me giggling. I should probably be worried. Or afraid. But Uthica has a book in one hand, and she’s wielding it as though she intends to thwack me over the head with it.

Uthica sees me sitting with Smoulder, staring at her while giggling madly. Then she stops, turning to her father and patting him on the shoulder. “That’s no ordinary Eldinsworn. That, father, is Alexis.”

Pern raises his eyebrow as he turns to Uthica. “I thought you said she was K’tharn.”

“I said she felt like a K’tharn. I’ve never seen her before. But that’s her.”

Trying to make a good impression, I smile and wave as Pern kneels down at the edge of the path, inspecting me. “Never seen an Eldinsworn who wasn’t swaddled before.”

Uthica’s laughter is low and sweet, but it feels slightly too high, hearing it from outside her head. “I’m sorry Lexi, but you are rather underdressed.”

Suddenly, Smoulder’s warmth and softness against my bare skin is much more… well, not awkward, but I’m much more aware of it. With my cheeks warming, I pull large portions of stone from the nearby building, shaping them into a crude stone-plate skirt and t-shirt. Modesty somewhat secured, I say, “Thanks. Didn’t mean to flash you like that.”

Stepping forward, Uthica offers me a hand. “No offence given. Though I must admit to some surprise. Is your arrival a response to my letter?”

It’s my turn to laugh, taking her hand as she pulls me and my stone clading to my feet with ease. “I wish. No, this is more of an accident. A happy accident, but still unintentional. Don’t know how it happened.”

Uthica nods, clasping my hand with all four of hers. We share a moment, staring into each other's eyes, as though neither of us can believe this is real. Then I step forward and pull her into a hug, tacitly ignoring the fact that my hand is still made out of magic. Instead, I latch onto the fact that she’s shorter than me. Everything about her has always felt ten-feet tall. It feels like she should be even bigger than Ivicka.

When I push away, Uthica smiles, holding me by the elbow. “It doesn’t matter what brought you here, I am glad to see you. If you’d come at another time, I’d call for a feast to celebrate your arrival. Perhaps have them declare one of those holidays they love so much.”

Pern finally approaches, his slight stature more apparent as he gets close. I’m taller than either of them but the more than half-meter I have on Pern makes me feel like I’m towering over him. Which, considering the affection that reminds me of papa, is highly disconcerting. “Unfortunately, my daughter is right. This is not the place for feasts. But your presence could be useful.”

“Father. We have no business involving Lexi in my problems.”

“Why not? You’ve attested that she is like a sister to you. Would you not ask your sisters for help, were they still with us?”

Instead of answering, Uthica closes her eyes, leaning back and staring up into the stars. Then Uthica turns to me, her lips pressed together.

Yet she still doesn’t speak.

“Tell me. If I can help, I will. I don’t mind. Though preferably after I get some clothes, that is.” Smoulder pushes against my cheek, as Uthica’s stance seems to relax.

“That can be arranged. We’ve collected several of the Eldinsworn’s outfits. One of them should fit.” Uthica leads me over the rise to where a bustling camp of K’tharn are gathered at the edge of the grove. Several K’tharn are gathering fruit from the trees, a small orange-ish red one that almost reminds me of a pear. Uthica grabs one of the K’tharn and sends her off to find me a set of clothes, putting emphasis on the fact the clothes need to be clean.

“Do they really need to be told to keep them clean?” I ask Pern as Uthica talks with another of the K’tharn about… juice, for some reason.

“Most of the young ones don’t understand the peculiarities of worn clothing,” Pern remarks. “But I’m curious. You said you didn’t come here on purpose. How did you get here?”

“Honestly? I think it was Smoulder.”

“Ah. That makes sense. She is unusual for a mana-hare.”

“Nah. Smoulder’s just weird period,” I declare. Smoulder radiates smugness, as she realizes we’re talking about her. I give her headscritches, relishing the feeling of her pushing against my hand.

Uthica comes back, leading us down the hill, and, unprompted, explains that the juice will be crafted into all sorts of magical ciders.

As we move past a group of K’tharn laughing over a nearby fire-pit where they have an apparatus for processing the juice laid out, I prod at my System. Gently. Despite its recent notification, I get a sense that it’s recalibrating again. There’s a sense that I could force it to display, but that doing so could have less than desirable results. And that it’s almost ready anyway.

So, my attention returns to their camp. It has a different vibe than I’m used to. It’s only after we reach a table where Uthica has arranged for several bowls of a meaty stew that I place it. The way the K’tharn interact, bumping into each other, laughing at a volume that only Rufka or a rabid Desh’mersa fan could match. “Vigor. Everyone here has more vigor.”

“What’s that?” Uthica asks from where she’s smelling a sample of one of the ciders, handed to her as we sat down. I follow her example, taking a chair next to her, and being careful not to allow my stone armor to crush it.

“Your people. They’re so alive. It’s not like the K’tharn I’m used to. Well, most of them.” Rufka would probably get along well with these K’tharn.

Uthica mumbles noncommittally as she talks with one of the brewers, who has several more of the drinks with them, but Pern nods. While Uthica discusses which ciders to focus on, Pern decides to teach me about what they’re doing. Though after a few minutes, the conversation shifts from cider to the vagaries of using elemental magic when cooking in more general terms.

“Personally, I find K’tharn with wind-aspect classes to produce the best grilled meats. But water-aspect classes are better at stew,” Pern explains.

“Wouldn’t that be offset by having a cooking subclass though? Or just being good at all magic?” I ask, watching as Smoulder makes her way over the obstacle castle, which I created for her while talking with Pern. “And what element is best for cider?”

Pern tosses a hard green pellet toward Smoulder, his aim perfect, landing in the centre of her next pad. “Well, obviously both K’tharn would have a cooking subclass equipped. It’s not as though either serve poor meals. But when striving for the best, every edge helps. And we’ve found that cider is usually best brewed by those with a mix of water and earth.”

Smoulder crashes through the castle on her next jump, disrupting my thoughts and our conversation. While I’m extracting her from the pile of broken stone, Uthica returns, her brewmaster and their ciders gone.

“Sorry about that. Now, what were we talking about?” she asks, watching me give Smoulder vigorous headscritches.

Pern and I look to each other. We’ve covered so many topics, I don’t remember what we were talking about when Uthica was first distracted. Maybe Cider?

“You were going to ask Alexis for help,” Pern supplies.

Uthica raises a brow. “I was, wasn’t I?”

“Right. Yes. I’m ready. Let’s do this!” I say, letting Smoulder climb onto my stone-covered shoulder, where I reshape the material to give her a proper platform. “What am I helping with?”

With a raised eyebrow, Uthica shakes her head. Then she waves for me to follow, leading us towards her command tent. Even as we’re walking away, the K’tharn she sent off to get me clothes returns. After three hours, I thought they’d forgotten about me and my preference for not-naked. Or been redirected to a more important task.

Accepting the bundle of neatly folded dark grey fabrics, I follow Uthica on a minor detour to a nearby tent. Which allows me to dress in private without creating a stone booth in the middle of her camp. Better for everyone this way, really.

The bundle turns out to be a set of loose pants, a blouse with a low neckline and a heavy cloak. All of which is so grey, a small part of me thinks I’d be better off with my stone cladding. At least it has personality.

And it fits properly.

Which the clothes I was gifted with, do not. At least, not at first. With a couple tucks to secure the loose top, courtesy of some subtle metal manipulation, I cinch the neckline up to a reasonable height and tighten the leggings so they’re not going to catch on everything. Then I create some slits in the arms, reweaving them shut with thin metal thread.

I almost choose not to take the cloak, but keep it folded over my arm instead. Spare material in case I get inspired. I’m not sure if any of the stuff in my inventory will be available or if I lost everything with my System.

Either way, I’m not complaining. I’m kind of happy to just be alive.

Uthica’s talking with yet another K’tharn when I emerge. Pern takes her elbow guiding her away even as she continues listening to the K’tharn complain about their subordinates. From what I can gather, three of them got into a fight over… a game board? Or maybe over who won their game?

It’s not until Uthica starts instructing the K’tharn on a few different methods she could implement to maintain discipline that I understand why the other K’tharn is here. Advice. She came to Uthica for advice. Turning to Pern, I ask, “Doesn’t she have better things to do than give people advice? Is she still queen?”

Pern chuckles. “You’re not the first to suggest that. It was an issue her aunt mentioned on multiple occasions.” His laughter stops as his gaze softens, focusing on Uthica. “She may not be perfect, but she always makes time for those around her. If she’s not lost in her work.”

“Does that happen often?”

Pern’s countenance shifts, a scowl stealing its way onto his face. “Not as often as it used to. We’ve had… an unusual period of peace. Though these Eldinsworn are proving troublesome in a way we haven’t encountered before.”

Uthica rejoins our conversation as the other K’tharn wanders away, adding, “But hopefully, as father implied, you’ll be able to help with that.”

I nod, letting her lead us toward her tent, the intricate enchantment etched into every square centimeter marking it more clearly than the flag flying outside. Inside it’s similar to the last time I saw it, except with enchanting notes and materials instead of reports and pens. One at a time, Uthica places materials to the side, only unfurling her large map once they’ve all been set in neat rows atop a nearby shelving unit.

The map shows the North-Western continent, though I can’t help but note how incomplete it is. It has notations indicating the approximate location of the enormous rift, and the coastlines look familiar to what I know from my own map. But most of the interior is empty. The one exception is the river that leads from the east coast to the lake at the foot of the rift, which has little blobs of highly detailed markings.

“The Eldinsworn started harassing us when we landed on Thendia. I sent most of our people back east, but the System insists I need to reach the rift.”

“Quest?”

“Yes. Silver-Rank, I believe. Need to find a Nexus point on the west rim.”

“Huh. I take it the Eldinsworn are keeping you from flying, considering all this unexplored space?”

“Yes. They have a weapon that ignores all defences. They’ve only deployed it when we’ve attempted to fly, but they’re hardly pushovers when trying to push forward by land. We were making progress, but slowed down when Smoulder got attached to the hill. Which makes sense, considering you were beneath it.”

I take a moment to give Smoulder some headscritches. Least I can do since apparently she got everyone to sit down and wait for me.

Then I turn back to the map, squinting at it before looking out in the direction of the camp. “Do you need to bring everyone?”

Uthica shakes her head, “No. There are primarily here for support.”

“So, they don’t need to reach the Nexus point? Just you?”

“Yes. And I’ve tried running it, but the Eldinsworn respond in force. Between their knowledge of the local terrain, denying us airspace, and their teleportation magus, it’s only been getting more tedious, the close we get.”

“Wow. Jerkfaces. Does your quest have anything to do with blowing them up?”

Uthica groans as she leans against the table, “No, that’s why it’s so frustrating. It doesn’t even mention them. They’re just obstacles. But that’s where you come in.”

“Yep,” I agree. Even without my System, I can probably teleport us to this Nexus in an hour or two. My magic still seems to be working, and a quick flex reveals that my Facet is still there. Not that I’m ready to test it. Not until my System finishes its… whatever it’s doing.

“Since your appearance mirrors the sworn, they might be willing to talk to you.” Uthica pushes off the table, turning to inspect me. “In fact, if you were wearing the cloak, I’d think the camp had been infiltrated. Those clothes fit you better than they did the sworn they were taken from.”

“Thanks. But if they’re as shoot first, ask questions never as you’re making them sound, I don’t think we need to risk negotiating. I can just take you there.” I turn away from her appraising gaze, looking over the map. “We can use the hills and ridges to get to this Wyrda’s rift, then it should only be a matter of minutes to circle around its cliffside.”

“You remember the part about not being able to fly?” Pern asks, reminding me of his presence. It’s uncanny how quiet he can be.

“Yep. No flight involved. Point-to-point teleportation.”

Uthica stands up straight, rocking the table with the sudden shift as she turns to me. “You’re a teleportation magus too? Father, can you imagine how much easier… everything would’ve been if I had one third her power?”

I raise my hand to object, but… she’s probably right.

“I know. But she’s offering her assistance now,” Pern points out, one hand on my shoulder.

“You’re right. And just in time for my Silver rank quest. Maybe the gods are looking down on us for once.” Uthica rolls the map back up, sliding it into a case on her hip that’s way too small for it. Dimensional storage for the win.

I rub my hands together, the elemental stone that makes up my still lost hand surprisingly soft against my normal hand. “So, shall we go now? I don’t know about you, but I feel like I need to move.”

“Yes. We can leave immediately,” Uthica nods, striding toward the door with me only a pace behind her.

Pern clears his throat. “Uthica.”

Uthica stops, causing me to dance to the side as she looks over her shoulder. “Yes father?”

“Good luck,” he answers, tossing her a wineskin. Probably full of cider.

Uthica grins, strapping the wineskin to her belt before charging out of her tent. She leads us to the top of a nearby hill, scanning the horizon beneath the night sky. Smoulder hops from my shoulder to hers, and Uthica reaches up to pet her without stopping her search. Then Uthica stops, pointing west. “There, the ridge with the gap in the tree’s two-thirds of the way up. Can you take us there?”

I attempt to reinforce my eyes with Twilight to zoom in, but it doesn’t work. “I’m going to need a couple minutes,” I inform Uthica as I start making adjustments. Compared to peeking out of the egg that served as my prison, making these adjustments is simplicity itself. Which means it only takes me fifteen minutes to figure out that I need to replace the components that provided the auto-focus when I originally created the effect with the System.

Am I going to have to modify all my spells? I confirm my raw manipulation hasn’t been affected, conjuring a ball of lightning and fire. How is the new System going to affect things?

“Are the basic elements involved in spatial magic? None of our experiments have given us clues,” Uthica asks as I wave the ball back and forth, reminding me that now probably isn’t the time to be playing.

But then again, I should be prepared.

“The process that brought me here messed with my spells. And a few other things. I’m testing,” I explain, glancing around. I wouldn’t have a problem with Uthica knowing that my System’s rebooting, but I’d rather not broadcast that fact to her whole camp. And whoever might be spying on them.

I’m expanding the sphere of fire and lightning to its limits - much greater than before my sojourn into the past - when Uthica says, “perhaps we should move this to the practice field.”

Looking around the empty hill, I don’t see anyone else about. But I follow her down to an equally empty field where I can practice with my spells.

As we step out, I get a notification.

“Temporal instability inhibiting full restoration. Additional resources required.”

The notification feels… softer, in a way. Less intrusive. That said, the actual message is a tad worrying.

“Uh, Uthica, I’ve got an important notification,” I say, even as she takes a position across from me.

“Go ahead. I wouldn’t want to test you when you’re not ready,” Uthica replies, and her tone is enough for me to delay opening my System as I look over at her. Yep, she’s grinning.

Rebuilding my spell repertoire might be a little more… intensive than I’d been planning. Shaking my head even as a small smile creeps onto my own face, I turn back to my System.

Instead of a Status though, the only thing I can bring up are the Framework names. Not Class, Framework.

“Framework selection suggested. Frameworks available: Void Cataclysm Lotus, Radiant Cataclysm Lotus, Cataclysm Yggdrasil Sapling, Gaia’s Cataclysm Oakling, Cataclysm Paradox.”

Time to see what this new System has in store.