Flip looked to the hatch door as the rain began to peter out and the room became even more silent than it already was. Without the white noise, it was still quite uncomfortable around the table. Each of the travelers resting around the flat felt an unspoken prompting to venture out. Flip was the first to approach the exit, and as he moved to the hatch there was immediate tension in the posture of his two companions.

“Don’t stick your head out!” Dovhran hissed. “Just look.”

The wizard waved his hand back towards the changeling in dismissal before he reached an arm out of the hatch. There was no reaction. Without immediate threat, Flip stuck his head out to look at the real world, but all he could see was the relatively blinding daylight that permeated the wastes. It was the first time he had really seen the wastes in the day. It was even more disorienting than it had ever been. At least at first.

“I don’t think, if Theihdow is waiting for us, that he will attack until we are all able to be attacked. Even if he is hidden with whatever ability he used before, I doubt he can enter the flat or cast spells into it.”

Though he had peered out safely and returned to the heart of the flat, Flip’s explanation gave little comfort to Dovhran and Selian.

“I don’t think what he was doing was magic.” Dovhran shook his head as he recalled the brief exchange. “It felt… it looked like… There’s a tale from the old elven settlers. In their world, there were many things that evoked magic, but there were also things that were not magic that were similar in effect but not in practice. I looked into it while I was trying to teach myself some magical skills. But there wasn’t much to read upon on.”

“I’m familiar with what you’re talking about. But it is, I assure you, an old superstition recorded by elven archmages to discourage their students from seeking shortcuts. They were in my books as well.” Flip nodded his head in a condescending understanding as he explained. “And while I felt no arcane presence from him, I believe what he did was more a matter of biology. But I do not know what he is.”

“A demon, probably.” Selian muttered. “Or… and I hate to bring this back to old elven superstition, he could be an elder fey.”

“The old elven fey don’t exist in our world.” Dovhran shook his head. “The elves that came here left their home world to escape the influence of that sort of being. Their histories are very clear on that.”

Selian tilted her head in curiosity. “Oh? How many of my peoples histories have you read? Because they don’t generally share personal family histories with outsiders. They’re very distrustful of outsiders that want to know more of the old world after the planar exclusion zone and the bloody few. It’s also part of the reason you need a visa and recommendation to enter the empire now, everyone is accounted for. No one enters or exits when trouble is brewing.”

“There are libraries for these things, Farwysher.” Dovhran huffed. “Granted, libraries in Thaerwyth. But they don’t check if you happen to be a changeling when you enter a library. So, clearly, they aren’t as paranoid as you think.”

Rather than sit and squabble, Flip crawled out of the hatch and assessed the surrounding wasteland carefully, intentionally moving very slow so as to avoid severe disorientation. Strangely, the wastes were no longer quite so disorienting. Countless puddles had formed in the faint uneven terrain, and each reflective little pool served as a point of reference that broke up the endless expanse. For once, the wastes had texture.

“It’s wet up here.” Flip chuckled as he leaned back into the flat. “We’re safe.”

“What do you mean we’re safe?”

“Selian, tell Dovhran why we’re safe.”

The elf peered out past Flip and then turned back to confirm to Dovhran. “He’s right. There’s no way Theihdow could sneak up on us like this. Doesn’t matter what kind of magic or other abilities he has, there’s too much water on the ground. We’ll hear him or see a disturbance in the water. The only way he could possibly sneak up on us is if he can incapacitate us all simultaneously from maybe forty feet away or further.”

Though Selian paused as she exited the flat, she did so completely. Her sharp eyes making a fast sweep of the surroundings while she was still able to see part way inside the hatch for reference. She took note off the position of the clouds in the sky, the angle of the sunlight as it bounced off of all the reflective surfaces around them, the breeze and its smells and sounds. All of her senses confirmed that none of them were being tampered with.

“I love fermented bean paste with traveling rations.” Selian declared loudly, though seemingly without purpose. “I can lie. So, I don’t think he’s within earshot.”

“That’s… terrifying. I didn’t even think of that.” Dovhran muttered. “It didn’t even occur to me to try and use his own bargain against him.”

“You think differently when you constantly feel hunted.” Selian retorted. “I doubt changelings ever really feel that way, since you can just fade confidently into a crowd. Anyway, we should leave.”

Dovhran pulled himself out of the hatch, content that Selian felt safe. “We should put as much distance between us and whatever he is as possible…”

“Only we don’t know what way is which.” Selian interrupted the mercenary. “Do you remember what way you were facing and what direction the hatch was oriented when you put it down, Faengil?”

Flip knelt down next to the hatch and thought for a moment. “I don’t remember turning around. I do the markings with my right hand… and then open it with my left…”

The wizard ran through the physical motions of the process as he explained them. But when he reached the point of opening the hatch, he couldn’t remember the direction in which he opened it. At least, not for certain. He had been very tired, among other things.

“I don’t… remember... what way I opened it. So I’m not sure what way I was facing when I put it down.”

“What about inside? When you crawled in you were facing forward, but we walked back to the hatch...” Dovhran’s face was scrunched up in mental exertion. But when he looked to Selian for confirmation, he was met with indifference.

“It doesn’t matter what way it was facing. I’m almost certain we weren’t heading north by the time the rain blinded us. We’re at a loss of direction until nightfall, assuming the rain doesn’t return by then. But we should still move. So, I think we should just guess a direction and go. We can correct course later.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” Flip frowned. Selian’s suggestion was incredibly risky. “We should do it.”

“What? You want to pick a random direction and risk running back into that monster?” Dovhran was about to make his way back into the hatch out of frustration, but it was quickly picked up and stowed.

“The odds of us running back into Theihdow, assuming he’s also looking for us in a more or less random direction, are slim. Even more so if we guess properly and aim away from where he was. And there’s even the potential chance that we go in the opposite directions that he chooses.”

“Should we flip a coin then?” Dovhran sighed, completely defeated.

“No. I pick that way.” Selian pointed into the distance and began walking.

Her boots splashed through puddles, her confident stride ignoring the terrain entirely as though it was no more difficult to traverse than normal dry ground. Flip shrugged to Dovhran and followed. The mercenary was close behind him.

“What do you think the odds are that the flowers we’re looking for survived the storm?” The elf was all business as she addressed Dovhran.

Something in her had changed since their encounter with Theidow, something that—at least Flip thought—was probably a change for the better. Maybe it was a boost in confidence after losing confidence in Dovhran, or perhaps it was that she was stepping up in a dangerous time. Flip appreciated the change. Dovhran was, perhaps, a little falsely infatuated with the take-charge attitude.

“I’d say the odds are good. It only grows in harsh landscapes, and its magical.”

“Okay, we should still only be a little over a day…? Yes?”

“That… sounds right.”

While the other two conversed about the group’s course and the distance remaining to the first marker, Flip focused his mind on two things that had been bothering him. The first, the familiar voice. Reaching him out of his dreams, away from where he knew it was sealed away. And it was beckoning him on, closer to the tomb. It had helped in the past, but Flip was unsure of its true intentions. He had no intention himself of helping it, but he could see that option coinciding with his current goals. But even as powerful as it was becoming, that was still not at the forefront of his mind. What was really and truly occupying the majority of his mind was the more immediate threat. Theihdow.

The being was no demon. Flip was sure. He had seen well into the beast’s body after his spell has rent its form. There had been no demonic core. And whats more, it was not using magic and yet it was creating magic-like effects. Spells that Flip could not fully fathom himself, and the being was doing so with little more than its words. While Flip himself considered incantation pivotal to casting spells, it was never the sole means of doing so. And even then, it was still magic; still spells. Theidow was not using magic, he was not casting spells. He was speaking to the world and it was listening. A terrifying concept and a nearly unstoppable power, but Flip also knew there was still more to this monster that he did not understand. It’s motives, for one—and it did have motives—its possessions for another. It had been holding something when Flip had approached its frozen form, something metallic. But even an enchanted item could not do the things that Theidow had thus far done. The monster was beyond the wizard’s scope of knowledge, and that scared him.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Faengil.” Selian called out to the wizard as she marched. “Something has been bothering you. Is it Theihdow?”

“I have no explanation for him. He does not use magic, he has no demonic core, and he bleeds but won’t die. He appears to be an elf, but nothing extraordinary beyond that. He is not a being of rage or malice. He is intelligent, calculating, almost human. But he is so far from human in everything but appearance.”

“You really are caught up on this, aren’t you?” Dovhran whistled. “You only rattle on like that when you’re focused.”

“Hold on to that thought.” Selian stopped mid stride and held her hand back to halt her two followers.

The elf reached down into a puddle and retrieved a small white speck from the murk. Now that he was paying attention to the world around him again, Flip realized that the puddles had become muddy rather than dusty. The ground was more soil-like than stony. And the small flower that Selian held up between her thumb and forefinger garnered surprise from Dovhran.

“We shouldn’t be there yet.” The mercenary was nearly shocked as he looked around for the source of the flower, but to no avail.

Selian was grinning as she stuffed the small flower into the front pocket of her tunic. “If the clusters of plant are big enough, the rain could have easily blown some petals away. But this means… at least I hope it means, that we went the right way.”