She awoke with a start, her consciousness jerking back to wakefulness abruptly. The cave felt different somehow - warmer, more occupied than it had been when she last remembered. She pushed herself upright, muscles protesting the movement after a night spent on barely-covered stone, and squinted into the half-lit interior of their shelter.

Morning light filtered through the cave entrance in pale, diffused rays that painted everything in soft grays and muted browns. The air carried the fresh scent of dew and growing things, mixed with the earthier odors of their makeshift home. But beneath those familiar smells was something else - something that definitely hadn't been there when she'd gone to sleep.

She wondered what the hell her sister had brought in during the night. There was definitely something - or someone - occupying the far end of the cave, a dark shape that resolved itself into distinctly human proportions as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Her heart rate spiked with sudden alarm, and she found herself crawling forward with careful, silent movements, trying to get a better look at this unexpected intruder.

Why the hell was there a random boy in her cave? The question repeated itself in her mind as she drew close enough to make out details. Had Yolotli killed him? The thought sent a chill of horror through her, and she held her breath until she could confirm the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing - deeply and evenly, the sleep of someone utterly exhausted rather than the stillness of death.

"Thank goodness," she whispered, relief flooding through her voice despite her attempts to stay quiet.

That, of course, was more than enough to wake him up. Her visitor stirred at the sound, consciousness returning with the gradual awareness of someone emerging from deep, restorative sleep.

"Mh, morning," he mumbled vaguely in her direction as he sat up, his movements slow and careful as he oriented himself to his surroundings. His voice carried a slight hoarseness that spoke of recent hardship, and there was something weary in his posture that suggested his presence here wasn't entirely voluntary. "You're… different. Who are you?"

She noted his eyes rather quickly - pale and unfocused, clearly not tracking anything in particular. The realization that he was blind explained some of his earlier comment about her being 'different' from what he'd expected. His clothing caught her attention as well - the cut wasn't entirely familiar, somewhat foreign in style though not so exotic as to suggest he'd traveled great distances. The dyes used in the fabric were recognizable, probably from somewhere within a few days' journey of their current location.

What truly unsettled her was the fact that he had somehow already been able to tell her and Yolotli apart. Were their voices really that different? She'd never noticed any significant distinction, though she supposed she rarely heard her sister speak. It was about then that she realized how long she'd been silently staring at him while her thoughts wandered, and the awkwardness of the situation began to settle on her.

"I-I ah. I'm Amoxtli. It's nice to meet you." The words came out in a rush, and she hoped that the introduction would diffuse some of the awkwardness, though the situation was actually less uncomfortable than she'd expected from... well, she really didn't know what to expect. Random stranger discovered in her home, seemingly familiar with her sister and likely brought here by her, presumably trustworthy? She supposed she didn't really have much choice but to trust him for now - she certainly wasn't about to try stabbing him or something equally drastic. Wait, had he been saying something while she was lost in thought?

He had been speaking, though he'd stopped when he'd apparently noticed the way her emotions kept shifting and jumping. Her mental state wasn't flowing in a very fluid manner - thoughts would snap onto one track, follow it for a brief moment, then abruptly leap to something entirely different. It was rather like watching someone try to navigate a conversation while simultaneously juggling multiple urgent concerns. Though now that she seemed to have settled somewhat, or at least appeared less internally scattered, he began speaking again.

"Nice to meet you as well, I'm Ussun." His tone was carefully neutral, polite but not overly familiar. "I didn't notice you when I came in last night. Did you come in after me, or..." The question trailed off diplomatically, leaving room for whatever explanation she felt comfortable providing.

"Oh no I was uh, here. I slept here," she replied in an uneven manner, her voice carrying uncertainty about whether this was information she should be sharing. From what she could tell, he seemed to accept her explanation without question, so that was probably fine. It was somewhat difficult to judge his reactions given a lack of eye contact, but his body language suggested casual acceptance rather than suspicion.

"I suppose my sister brought you in?" The words came out equal parts question and statement, and she found herself grasping for the implications. "I uh, guess that means..." Something. She had been going somewhere with that line of reasoning, but the thread of logic seemed to slip away from her as soon as she tried to follow it. Maybe she could redirect the conversation instead of admitting her confusion?

"Well! We should probably get moving." The sudden enthusiasm in her voice was clearly forced, but at least it gave her something concrete to focus on. "We need to get food. Foraging. Don't want to starve and all that." Even as the words left her mouth, she wanted to curl up somewhere dark and private. That had been an absolutely terrible attempt at casual conversation, and she was fairly certain her discomfort was obvious to anyone paying attention.

As someone who happened to be the most emotionally perceptive individual for miles around, Ussun was acutely aware that she would rather be doing literally anything other than continuing this conversation. Her distress was practically radiating from her, a mixture of social anxiety and embarrassment that made him wince in sympathy. Rather than prolonging her discomfort with unnecessary words, he simply nodded acknowledgment, stood up with careful movements that suggested lingering soreness, and offered her a hand up from where she was still crouched near the cave entrance.

He was somewhat surprised by the strength in her grip when she took his hand. The power in her fingers and the steadiness of her pull as she leveraged herself upright was greater than her demeanor implied. Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised - she did have that same herbal, growing-things sensation that he'd noticed in her sister, that fresh-grass feeling that seemed to emanate from both of them. And for just a moment, as their hands connected, he almost felt stronger himself, as if some vital energy was flowing between them through the point of contact.

After having somewhat clumsily pulled herself upright - her movements hampered by what seemed like a heavy trailing garment or appendage - she quickly dusted off her clothes and took mental inventory of their situation. "We're out of fruit," she announced, running through what appeared to be a practiced assessment. "Traps can probably wait until Lotti… gets back. Guess we'll also need to gather more stuff for bedding."

She took a moment to plot a route through the forest that would allow them to accomplish their various tasks efficiently. The planning process was clearly familiar to her, suggesting this wasn't her first extended period of wilderness living. The route shouldn't take them too long, and if they were fortunate they might even find some of the better fruiting trees that grew in the deeper parts of the woods.

"Alright! Off we go!" She began walking toward the cave entrance, not quite with bravery but certainly with more confidence than her earlier tentative movements had suggested. There was something almost infectious about her determination, a sense of purpose that helped push aside the awkwardness of their introduction. She only seemed to remember that she wasn't alone after she'd walked several paces ahead, and the realization that her guest was still inside the cave put a noticeable damper on her newfound excitement.

For his part, Ussun tried to follow as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. Whenever they stopped to gather something - berries, nuts, useful plants - he would silently accept whatever she handed him and add it to their growing collection. After a while he started using his shirt as a makeshift carrying sack by gathering the bottom hem upward to form a pouch, a technique that significantly increased their harvesting capacity.

During their foraging expedition, he had somewhat accidentally confirmed that she, and likely her sister by extension, possessed a tail - a large, scaled appendage that explained many of the sounds he'd been hearing. The confirmation came mostly through an embarrassing incident where he tripped over the appendage, received what could only be described as a polite scolding about spatial awareness, and learned to maintain an extra few feet of distance from where he thought she was positioned whenever they were walking. The discovery answered several questions about the dragging sounds and unusual movement patterns he'd observed, though it raised entirely new questions about exactly what kind of beings his new companions were. He supposed he still didn't have a good idea of what Partners' forms were like. Perhaps they were as varied as Naturals?

The forest around them was alive with morning activity. Birds called to each other through the canopy, their songs creating a complex symphony that helped Ussun track their progress through different types of terrain. Small animals rustled through the underbrush, and the air carried the rich scents of damp earth, flowering plants, and the green smell of photosynthesis beginning its daily cycle. It was peaceful in a way that his recent experiences had made him appreciate more deeply.

Unfortunately for the duo, their companionable silence was not destined to last. Amoxtli noticed something troubling first, her movement pattern shifting from the casual rhythm of foraging to the alert stillness of someone who had detected potential danger.

"Something got injured here," she muttered, crouching down beside a cluster of bushes. Her hands pushed cautiously against the vegetation, probing for whatever had caught her attention, but she quickly recoiled from whatever she found. "Eugh- and whatever did it hasn't finished their lunch."

Her emotional state immediately shifted into high alert, tension crackling through her posture as she began scanning their surroundings with renewed vigilance. The peaceful morning atmosphere evaporated in an instant, replaced by the prickly awareness that they might not be alone in these woods.

"...damnit, must be one of those monsters," she continued, her voice dropping to a worried whisper. "We should go before it comes back."

"Monsters?" Ussun asked, genuinely curious about what she meant by the term. Naturals, perhaps? It was a somewhat harsh way to think of the elemental beings, but given what he'd experienced during the attack on the record halls, he could understand how some might view them in such terms. "What do you-"

He cut himself off abruptly, suddenly assailed by a wave of agony that seemed to come from outside his own body. Someone nearby was in pain - terrible, overwhelming pain that dwarfed even his own recent experience of near-death. The sensation hit him like a physical blow, doubling him over as the foreign suffering crashed through his enhanced empathic abilities.

"Someone's hurt," he gasped, straightening with visible effort as he turned toward the source of the anguish. "We need to help them." The intensity of the pain he was sensing made it impossible to ignore or rationalize away. Whoever was out there was experiencing agony beyond description, and despite the obvious dangers, he couldn't simply walk away and leave them to suffer.

Without waiting for a response, he began moving toward the source of the emotional distress, his usual caution overridden by the urgency of what he was sensing.

"Wait- damnit, wait up!" Amoxtli called after him, her voice sharp with alarm. "That's probably where the monster is!" Despite her obvious opposition to this plan and her very reasonable concerns about walking directly toward whatever had created the gruesome scene she'd discovered, she found herself running after him, unable to let him face whatever lay ahead alone.

By that point, Ussun really wasn't listening to warnings or rational arguments. The pull of someone's desperate need for help had overridden his normally careful approach to dangerous situations, and he pressed forward through the undergrowth with single-minded determination, following the invisible thread of anguish that called to every instinct he possessed.

The first thing Ussun noticed upon reaching the source of that terrible agony was the smell. Blood, thick and metallic, mixed with the acrid stench of vomit and the nauseating odor of burnt meat that seemed to coat the inside of his nostrils. The combination was well beyond disgusting - it was the smell of violence and suffering made manifest, so overwhelming that it triggered an immediate gag reflex. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth, fighting down bile as he tried to process what his other senses were telling him about the scene ahead.

The thing began to move as soon as it heard his approach, responding to the sound of footsteps and labored breathing with the predatory awareness of something that had been waiting. A horrid splitting pain entered Ussun's mind as the creature's emotions crashed over him - a dissonance between sudden, obvious hatred and absolute suffering that felt like shards of glass scraping against his consciousness. The combination was unlike anything he had ever experienced, a twisted knot of pain and malice that spoke of something fundamentally wrong with whatever lay ahead.

As the thing took a heavy, dragging step toward him, accompanied by the wet sound of something substantial moving through pooled blood, he had the terrifying realization that he had just encountered the 'monster' Amoxtli had warned him about. This was no injured animal in need of rescue - this was something dangerous, something that had already proven its capacity for violence through whatever carnage had created the scene before them.

His hands shook violently as they reached toward the jagged shard he had received from Lanvi, fingers fumbling with the fabric of his clothes as panic began to override rational thought. He might not be able to use the mystical fragment for magic - he had no partner present to channel through, no real understanding of how such things worked - but at least having something resembling a weapon was better than facing this threat completely defenseless.

She ran into the clearing just behind Ussun, her feet skidding slightly on the blood-slicked ground as she took in the scene with wide, horrified eyes. Her gaze snapped first to the shadowy beast that dominated the small clearing, a creature that seemed to be composed of equal parts shadow, fury, and barely-contained violence. Then her attention shifted to Ussun, and she immediately recognized the signs of someone completely overwhelmed by circumstances beyond their control.

He was frozen in place, his body locked in a panic response that rendered him effectively helpless despite the obvious danger. More than simple fear, he looked overstimulated - too much sensory input, too much emotional chaos, too much everything crashing over him at once. She wasn't entirely sure what was causing his paralysis, but she could see that whatever he was reaching for wasn't going to be retrieved in time if he didn't snap out of his current state.

"H-HEY! UGLY!" she shouted at the creature, her voice cracking slightly with fear but carrying enough volume to draw its attention away from the frozen young man. The moment the words left her mouth, she found herself desperately hoping that Ussun didn't think she was referring to him. That would be mortifying under normal circumstances, and these circumstances were already quite abnormal enough. Oh, and now the monster was turning toward her with obvious hostile intent. Oops.

The creature's head swiveled in her direction with predatory focus, revealing a maw filled with teeth that seemed designed for tearing rather than any more civilized purpose. She had perhaps three seconds to regret her decision to draw its attention before it would be close enough to demonstrate exactly what those teeth were capable of accomplishing.

Before he even knew what he was doing, some desperate instinct overrode Ussun's paralysis and sent him into motion. He ripped the mystical blade from where it had been secured in his clothes, the sharp edge cutting deeply into his palm in his haste, and jabbed it with all his strength into the creature's mangy, blood-matted fur. The improvised attack had the desired effect of getting the monster away from Amoxtli, the sudden pain causing it to rear back with a howl of rage and surprise.

Unfortunately, this tactical success came with the obvious downside that the creature was now focused entirely on him, and he severely doubted that a poorly thought-out taunt would be sufficient to redirect its attention again. Not now that he had actually managed to hurt it and earn its focused enmity. The beast's emotional signature shifted from generalized hostility to specific, targeted hatred directed squarely at him.

He was on the ground in seconds, the creature's weight bearing down on him as claws raked across his arms and shoulders. His arms were positioned above his head, just barely managing to keep the thing's snapping jaws away from his face and throat, but the position was defensive at best and completely unsustainable. He had no idea where the mystical shard had gone during his desperate attack - it had either been knocked from his grip or remained embedded in the creature's hide somewhere beyond his reach.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The shard. Suddenly he remembered Lanvi's carefully worded explanations about magic and partnerships, about rhythm transfer and spells that could be cast through properly attuned artifacts. If he could just…

"GRAB THE SHARD, I C-" He didn't have time to finish his instruction, nearly getting his face torn off for the foolishness of trying to speak while fending off a predator at close range. The creature's jaws snapped shut mere inches from his nose, close enough that he could feel the heat of its breath and the spray of its saliva. He would just have to hope, to trust that Amoxtli would understand what he needed from her and pray that he remembered enough of Lanvi's explanation to make this desperate plan work.

"Wh- where is it where is it where is it!?" Amoxtli's voice rose in pitch with each repetition, panic making her increasingly frantic as she searched the blood-soaked clearing for the black blade he had dropped. She shuffled around desperately, her movements hampered by the uneven terrain and the need to avoid getting too close to the ongoing struggle between Ussun and the monster.

She wasn't entirely sure why she was blindly following his shouted instruction - everything about this situation suggested that the rational response would be to flee and seek help from someone more qualified to deal with supernatural predators. But something about his request felt important, urgent in a way that transcended normal logic. There was a weight to his words that suggested forces beyond her understanding were at work.

She almost missed the blade entirely, her tail inadvertently sweeping across it during her frantic search. The mystical shard traced a thin line along her scales as it made contact, and she hissed at the sudden sharp pain, but the sensation also served to alert her to the blade's location. Despite the burning cut it had left across her appendage, she picked up the artifact without hesitation, her fingers closing around its alien warmth.

"N-Now what? I-I can't fight!" she called out, her voice carrying the desperation of someone who had never been in a life-or-death combat situation and had no training or instinct to draw upon.

"Colp-" Ussun started to say something that immediately caused the shard in her hand to buzz with energy, her blood seeming to sizzle and react where it had made contact with the blade's surface. But whatever word he had been attempting was lost as the beast pressed down harder onto his chest, driving the air from his lungs and leaving him gasping helplessly beneath its weight.

She stared at the blade in her hand, feeling the power that thrummed through it but having no idea how to access or direct that energy. She couldn't save him - she was going to be too late, just like always. The familiar weight of inadequacy settled over her shoulders like a heavy cloak, the certainty that she would fail when it mattered most.

But what if she didn't have to be the one to save him?

Within moments, Yolotli was there, ramming into the beast with her full weight behind a thrust that carved deep into the creature's side. Her sister's arrival shifted the entire dynamic of the fight, providing the distraction and assistance that turned a hopeless situation into something that might actually be survivable. As the monster flinched back from this new attack, recoiling from the unexpected pain, Ussun was finally able to draw a full breath.

With oxygen returning to his lungs and a moment's reprieve from immediate death, he managed to finish what he had started saying earlier. "COLPO DI VITE, PIANISSIMO!" The words rang out with authority and power, carrying a resonance that seemed to echo from more than just his voice.

The blade pulsed like a living heart in Amoxtli's grip, and her blood - her rhythm - shifted to match its supernatural heartbeat. The rush of energy that flooded through her felt impossible to contain, a torrent of power that demanded release. Even if she had wanted to hold back the force building within her, she couldn't have managed it. Right now, with Ussun's life hanging in the balance and her sister engaged in desperate combat, she most certainly didn't want to restrain whatever magic was flowing through her.

She pulled a vine from the earth with casual effort that belied the impossibility of what she was doing, the plant matter responding to her will as if it were an extension of her own body. Using her free hand to guide the improvised weapon, she whipped it at the monster with surprising accuracy, scoring a line across its flank that drew a fresh howl of pain and rage.

As the creature recoiled once more, she pressed her advantage, pulling herself closer with the vine while thrusting that wonderful knife into the beast again, and again, and again. Each strike felt perfect, guided by instincts she had never possessed and powered by energies she didn't understand. She vaguely noticed more magic pulsing through her consciousness, more of those foreign words - those spells - flowing through her mind like half-remembered songs.

But she didn't have the time or mental energy to process the implications of what was happening to her, not while the immediate threat remained active. All of her attention was focused on the rhythm of attack and retreat, the deadly dance of blade work that felt simultaneously foreign and natural. The mystical shard seemed to guide her movements, teaching her through direct action how to fight with an effectiveness she had never imagined possible.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, the creature lay dead at her feet. The clearing was covered in blood - its dark, alien ichor mixed with the brighter red of human injury. She looked down at herself and realized that her clothes were torn and her body was leaking streams of red from multiple wounds she couldn't remember receiving.

Despite the injuries, despite the burning pain that was beginning to force its way through the fog of combat adrenaline, she still felt exhilarated. More alive than she had ever been in her entire life. The magic that had flowed through her during the fight left echoes of power singing in her veins, a sensation of capability and strength that was utterly intoxicating.

That sense of euphoric victory lasted for approximately three seconds before the combination of blood loss, magical exhaustion, and delayed shock caught up with her all at once.

That was about when she passed out.

"No. Nonononono." The words tore from Ussun's throat as he scrambled across the blood-soaked clearing, his knees scraping raw against the rough ground as he slid to a stop beside Amoxtli's motionless form. The sight of her collapsed there, her clothing torn and darkened with blood, sent a spike of pure terror through his chest that had nothing to do with empathic abilities and everything to do with the sudden, crushing realization that this person - this brave, determined person who had just saved his life - might be dying because of his reckless decision to help a stranger.

"C'mon you have to be okay please please please-" His hands hovered over her still form, afraid to touch and cause more damage but desperate to assess the extent of her injuries. She was alive - her chest rose and fell with shallow but steady breaths, and her emotional signature, though faint and chaotic, still registered in his perception. Alright. He could work with that. She was alive, which meant there was still hope.

Moving with careful urgency, he quickly went about tearing the cleanest strips he could manage from what remained of his shirt, wrapping her most visible wounds as carefully as his shaking hands would allow. The bruises that darkened her visible skin he could largely ignore for now - painful but not immediately life-threatening. What concerned him more were the strange burns that marked her arms and hands, angry red marks that looked nothing like the claw and bite wounds from their attacker. How had she even gotten burned during the fight? The question nagged at him, but there were more pressing concerns.

At the very least, the punctures and cuts from the beast's fangs and claws were straightforward to treat, even if blood began seeping through the improvised bandages almost immediately after he applied them. The makeshift first aid wasn't going to hold for long, but it might buy them enough time to find proper help.

What could he do? Where could he take her? The answer came to him with sudden clarity - he needed to move her, which was probably a terrible idea under normal circumstances, but he had a growing certainty that she wasn't going to recover if they remained in this place of violence and death. The emotional residue from the fight hung over the clearing like a miasma, and something told him that healing required a different environment entirely.

Time became a blur as Ussun struggled through the forest, carrying Amoxtli's unconscious form and trying desperately to retrace their path back to the cave. Her sister would be there, surely - Yolotli would know what to do, would have medicine and proper bandages and the kind of practical experience that could make the difference between life and death. The weight of responsibility pressed down on his shoulders with each step, made heavier by the knowledge that this entire situation was the result of his impulsive decision to rush toward danger.

The forest seemed determined to confound him, every tree looking identical to his searching hands and every path branching into multiple equally confusing routes. His usual navigation methods were compromised by exhaustion, stress, and the constant need to monitor Amoxtli's condition as he carried her. She remained unconscious but stable, her breathing steady if shallow, her heartbeat regular but weak.

It wasn't until his feet struck cold, unfamiliar stone that he realized he had become completely lost. Before him yawned the entrance to a cave, but it definitely wasn't the modest shelter he had shared with the sisters the night before. This cavern was larger, older, with an atmosphere that spoke of long habitation and careful cultivation. He could feel something powerful residing within its depths - a magical presence that radiated a beautiful sense of unity and harmony, overlaid with something foreign- alien that he couldn't quite identify.

The combination of familiar and strange in the cave's ambiance was both comforting and unsettling, like hearing a half-remembered lullaby sung in an unknown language.

"I- I know you're there. I..." He felt something deep in his chest push back against the pressure of the cave. There were phantom sensations across his back, as if invisible hands were steadying him as he swayed under Amoxtli's weight. "I need your help. You are going to help."

The words came out with a confidence that surprised him, carrying a certainty he didn't understand about the benevolent nature of the being before him. Somehow, he knew without doubt that whoever lived in this cave possessed healing abilities and would be willing to use them. The knowledge seemed to flow directly from the mystical fragment embedded in his chest, as if the artifact was responding to the presence of someone with compatible magical abilities.

He shoved down the splitting headache that had been building behind his temples, focusing all of his remaining strength on the desperate hope that his instincts were correct.

A snort echoed from the depths of the cave, a sound that managed to convey both amusement and mild irritation in a single breath. This was followed by the appearance of a 'light' visible even to Ussun's sightless eyes - a tiny, blazing star of concentrated magic that pulsed with warmth and power.

"If that's the case, you should stop tuggin' on them to keep yourself standin'," came a voice that carried the weight of age and experience. "Set 'em down and I'll patch y'all up." The speaker's emotions were complex and layered, carrying traces of something that tickled at Ussun's attention in a familiar way. But he brushed the half-recognition aside, focusing purely on the crucial question of whether this mysterious healer would actually provide the assistance they so desperately needed.

The relief that flooded through him at receiving a positive answer was so intense that it overwhelmed his remaining reserves of strength. As soon as he had confirmation that help was available, his body finally acknowledged the toll that recent events had taken on him. His legs buckled, and he began to collapse toward the unforgiving stone floor.

It was only the strange old being's surprisingly quick movement that prevented him from cracking his skull open on the cave floor, though his head already felt as if it had been split wide open from the inside. The magical exhaustion from their desperate fight, combined with the physical strain of carrying Amoxtli through the forest and the emotional drain of maintaining hope in an apparently hopeless situation, had finally caught up with him all at once.

"Mh." That single grunt of acknowledgment was the last sound Ussun heard before consciousness abandoned him entirely. He didn't fall into proper sleep - some part of his awareness remained active, maintaining a general sense of the emotional landscape around him - but he was hardly capable of paying the world any meaningful attention. He couldn't even summon the energy to move his limbs or respond to external stimuli.

The sensation was beyond simple exhaustion. He felt drained in ways he hadn't known were possible, as if the mystical energies that had flowed through him during the fight had burned pathways through his very essence that would take time to heal.

A few hours later, he was slowly roused back to fuller consciousness by a gentle, curious mental nudge. The contact carried just enough warmth and familiarity to serve as a spark that rekindled his awareness of the world around him. As his senses gradually came back online, he realized that the emotional landscape had fundamentally shifted during his period of unconsciousness.

"Oh... thank the sun. I thought I'd lost you - both of you." The words spilled out of him in a rush of relief as he became aware that Amoxtli was not only alive but conscious and present in ways that went far beyond simple physical proximity. Without thinking about it, he found himself pulling her into an embrace that expressed all of the fear and relief and gratitude that he couldn't put into words.

He didn't typically think of himself as much of a hugger, but in that moment physical contact seemed like the only adequate way to confirm that she was real and present and safe. The embrace lasted only a few seconds before he pulled back quickly, responding to a burst of second-hand pain that reminded him she was still recovering from serious injuries. There was also an increasingly incomprehensible buzz of activity from their mysterious healer, suggesting magical work was still ongoing.

"I did a good job patchin' that body up, so don't you go breakin' it again," the healer grumbled, their voice carrying the fond exasperation of someone who had seen too many young people throw themselves into danger without considering the consequences. "Damn kids..."

"Sorry- sorry. Are you alright? I wasn't able to find you..." Ussun's words trailed off as he became aware of something strange about the hands he was still holding. These were definitely Amoxtli's hands - he recognized the size and shape and texture - but they bore injuries that hadn't been there before their fight with the monster.

One hand displayed a bladed scar that looked days old rather than hours, while the other showed rough, rope-burn-like patches that spoke of entirely different types of trauma. Most unsettling of all, both hands trembled with the distinctive weakness that came from significant blood loss, but the pattern and location of injuries didn't match what he thought her condition might've been.

She hadn't been wounded in these particular ways as far as he was aware, and certainly not with injuries that appeared to have been healing for some time. How had she even known how to find this place? He didn't know how he had managed to locate the cave himself - his navigation had been entirely instinctual, guided by forces he didn't understand- or pure chance. And speaking of things he should have noticed earlier... Where was Yolotli?

"How...?" The question hung incomplete in the air between them, encompassing all of his confusion and growing suspicion that there were significant aspects of this situation that he didn't understand.

Amoxtli flinched at his question, and he could feel the way her mind scrambled desperately for an answer. The emotional turmoil that accompanied her search for words made it clear that whatever explanation she might offer would be a lie, and from the shifting patterns of her feelings, she had already figured out that he would recognize any deception she attempted.

Their magical connection had made such subterfuge essentially impossible - they could feel each other's emotional states too clearly for successful dishonesty.

Neither of them spoke for a long time, both gradually becoming accustomed to the strange new way they could sense each other's thoughts and feelings. The connection was deeper and more intimate than anything either had experienced before, creating a form of communication that transcended words.

Within minutes, though, Ussun's question about the nature of their connection was answered in a way he hadn't expected. As he extended his awareness more carefully through the mystical link they shared, he realized that there weren't just two souls touching and communicating through the magical bond.

There were three.

"You're both in there?" he asked, breaking the silence as understanding dawned. The realization explained so much - the conflicting emotions he had been sensing, how he'd never noticed them in the same place, their shared injuries.

"Yeah." The response came in a voice that sounded like Amoxtli but carried undertones that belonged to her sister. At some point during recent events, the line between the two personalities had become blurred in ways that suggested a fundamental change in their nature. "We're in here."

Their voice was quiet, carrying neither fear of judgment nor shame about their existence. Through their shared connection, they could already feel his acceptance- such emotional dishonesty would be impossible to maintain now. Instead, there was just a hesitation, an uncertainty about what this might mean for all of them. Especially given that more than just the line between the sisters seemed to blur.

They supposed that uncertainty made sense. This was… new for all parties involved, though they would have time to explore and understand their nature once they were no longer being observed by curious outsiders.

"I assume you're the Lanvi he mentioned?" Yolotli pulled back first, fixing a distinctly serpentine glare on the positively beaming woman who had been watching their reunion from what she probably believed was a respectfully unintrusive distance. The healer had apparently summoned or contacted the being who had started this entire chain of events. Or perhaps she'd been somehow monitoring them the whole time.

"Could've told me I had two partners, you know," Ussun directed his words toward Lanvi, though he wasn't actually feeling particularly annoyed about the revelation. The others definitely were irritated, though, and he figured that venting those feelings on their behalf would be healthier than allowing the resentment to fester. "Or just. Helped. At all, rather than leaving us to figure everything out through life-or-death trial and error."

"Sorry! The rules are the rules..." Lanvi replied with an apologetic shrug, pausing to wipe a bit of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. The casual snacking in the aftermath of - or perhaps during - their near-death experience struck all three of them as somewhat inappropriate, and none were particularly convinced by her explanation about mysterious regulations that prevented useful guidance.

"But it all worked out in the end, didn't it?" she continued with renewed enthusiasm. "You're all safe and sound and together, ready to go save the world!" Her pride in their accomplishment was genuine and warm, though now that they possessed the enhanced perceptual abilities to study her emotional landscape in detail, it was clear that her self-esteem regarding her own role in recent events was considerably less positive. Maybe she was being genuine about the restrictions, at least to some degree?

"The... the world?" Amoxtli voiced the question with obvious bewilderment. She didn't need to consult with her partner to know that he hadn't been informed about any world-saving expectations either. The scope of what Lanvi was suggesting seemed absurdly beyond their capabilities, especially given how much difficulty they'd had dealing with what, given some retrospection, seemed to have been some manner of overgrown coyote.

"Does that have anything to do with the monsters we've been encountering?"

"I... I knew I was forgetting something important," Lanvi admitted with the sheepish expression of someone who had just remembered a crucial detail they should have mentioned much earlier. "But yes, it does! I need you to travel to Mount Clearoi, on the continent of Unis-Résonne, where you'll meet up with six other sets of noble heroes who have been chosen for the same purpose! There you can fight back against the source of this evil!"

The three partners 'looked' at each other, and the question of whether or not they would accept this world-saving quest didn't even need to be asked. Despite the apparent impossibility of the task and their complete lack of preparation for such a responsibility, none of them could seriously consider refusing to help if the world truly was in danger.

But the practical implications of Lanvi's request raised some rather fundamental questions about the scope of their ignorance regarding the wider world.

"What the heck is a continent?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.