Alma awoke to an intense, dull pain in her stomach. A rising lump in her throat signaled a familiar feeling. There was barely any time for her to admire the paradoxically bright and dreary skies that filled the landscape of her home country before rushing back into the forest. Finding a suitable spot behind a tree, a large amount of bile mixed with chunks of days-old food spewed violently out of her mouth. A trembling arm was wrapped around the trunk of the tree, while the other was on shaking knee. She had an intense hatred of vomiting. There was a fear there, whenever she knew it was coming, of the severe abdomen pain that accompanied it. It was the only thing that kept her unabashed drinking in check.

She did her best not to cry.

She leaned against the tree—relief spreading through her as the worst part of it was over. She found herself squinting and staring at the nasty mess she left on the snow for a good while.

After a short bout of What did I do to deserve this? racing through her mind multiple times, Alma kicked some snow over her half-digested meal and slowly walked back to where she had woken up. She tried to shake away the feeling that she had just slept through another nightmare after seeing her blankets scattered about and the sleeping bag she had been using tossed several feet away. With the sun out, she could finally get a good look at the encampment. An extinguished bonfire stood in the center, surrounded by long logs where one could sit and warm themselves up. A standard, makeshift campsite, by any means—except that not a drop of snow had covered the area they had been sleeping in. It was almost as if the snow had consciously made a decision to fall everywhere except in this one spot.

Looking around, she noticed no sign of Hwalín or that mysterious woman she had spoken to the previous night. She grabbed her sleeping bag, placed it down and sat back on it, but before she could do anything else, voices had started coming from beyond the trees. Alma quickly laid herself back down and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep while focusing her ears to listen in.

“It is pointless to keep searching, Hwalín. We must prioritize our focus on the mission.”

“She almost died because of me. The least I could do is find it for her.”

“You must realize we are pressed for time—”

Hwalín narrowed her eyes at the woman.

“—but if you are so inclined, I suppose we can scan the grounds of the battlefield once more.”

“Thanks,” Hwalín seemed satisfied. “We can go check it out later today. But right now, I don’t want the poor girl waking up to an empty campsite and sneaking off on us.”

Hwalín propped herself down on a nearby log, sitting with her legs crossed, and carefully began polishing one of the exotic blades she carried. Any hint of extradimensional blood seemed to have been wiped completely off.

Qu'l-Nia was hovering over her while she worked. It seemed she had taken an interest in the maintenance work of the lesser beings she had found herself with.

Alma continued to listen stealthily to the conversation they were having, hoping they didn’t notice she had woken up.

"I’m glad she’s still here, at least.” Hwalín let out a small sigh of relief. “Nia, didn't I tell you not to blurt out your story to every person we meet? Now she thinks you’re insane and me even worse for having followed you."

"In my attempt to find the answers to my inquiries, I consider every possibility. Revealing a few things that I deem necessary expedites that process. And as you stated, she did risk her life for us,” Qu’l-Nia explained, stone-faced. “Therefore, it would have been quite disingenuous of me to keep silent about what she had just experienced."

"Besides, there is also something about her that feels so strangely familiar to me." The alien woman focused on an empty spot on the ground, trying to track a memory that had long since been forgotten.

Hwalín sneered.

"You know, sometimes you say things… And those things come off sounding very diabolical. Fine, I suppose she can at least give us the lay of the land."

"My thoughts exactly." Qu'l-Nia said with a smile. "Being a local, I am sure Alma has heard at least one or two stories about Derleth."

Alma, who was still watching silently from afar, began to think that smiling was the only kind of expression this woman knew how to make. She decided there was no further reason to continue eavesdropping.

"I'm sorry. That name doesn't ring any bells," Alma stated, interrupting their conversation. She had begun putting away her things.

Alma had slept on the outer rim of the campsite, in a sleeping bag covered with multiple blankets to make up for a lack of a tent.

"Alma! Good morning!" Qu'l-Nia gave her a saccharine smile. "I hope you slept well."

"Not especially," said Alma wearily. "I'm pretty sure I had three nightmares in a row last night."

Her stomach rumbled fiercely. It struck her now that she hadn't eaten anything since the previous morning, not to mention she had also just gotten done ridding her body of any excess food she might have eaten before that. Her lips pursed inwards.

"Um, would you guys happen to have made any breakfast?"

"Naw. Not just yet, anyway," Hwalín answered, eying and inspecting her blade closely.

The glow Alma thought it had exuded was now gone, perhaps it had just been an illusion caused by the adrenaline she was feeling that day.

"Actually, I set me some traps a few klicks from here after you passed out yesterday. Figured we'd not get far lugging your body around." She cackled obnoxiously. "Mind tagging along while I search 'em? Maybe if we're lucky, I'll have snared us a chthonae!"

Hwalín slapped her thigh repeatedly while cackling again. She seemed like the type of imbecile to be amused by her own jokes, thought Alma.

"Wouldn't mind frying one up, reckon they taste outta this world." She deftly sheathed her blade and stood up, grinning.

"Sure, why the fuck not?” agreed Alma, scratching her chin in barely-processed thought. “Nothing better to relieve the nonstop pain in my aching body than a long hike through one awful frozen-over forest!"

Hwalín nodded happily, agreeing genuinely with that sentiment.

The deeply dense trees stretched out almost infinitely among the frigid wilderness in all directions. As Alma trudged along—pain still shooting through her body with every heavy, boot-laden step she took—she started letting her mind wander in the hope that it would take her mind off the constant soreness of her back and legs. She looked around at the frozen boughs poking out from the trees and began to notice the repeating fractal pattern of frost on each of the thousands of coated pine needles. It amazed her to think that it was all naturally made and not the work of some ice goddess with an obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Hwalín's gruff voice broke Alma out of her train of thought.

"Hey Alm. Any idea where we might be? Every bloody tree looks the same as the last to me."

"Wait, what?!" Alma cried worryingly. "Shouldn't you know? You were the one that set the traps!"

Hwalín cackled. "Relax, I was just taking the piss. You’ve been mostly quiet this whole time and being that we're in the middle of nowhere… it was starting to creep me out!"

Alma sighed, the grip tightening on the rifle she was holding. "Right. I'm sorry. It's just been so hectic and I haven't really had time to process things. Oh, and I'm probably in a shitload of trouble, so I'm not even looking forward to going home. But the longer I wait, the worse it'll b—"

"Whoa! Ease the knees there, Ms. Sniper. I wasn't asking you to get all whiny on me." Hwalín slowed her steps. "We'll get you home right after breakfast, no worries!"

The elfwin huntress stopped and bent down in front of a very dangerous looking steel trap.

"If we ever actually find any, that is," she said dejectedly, looking over the untouched bait. Hwalín turned her head back towards Alma.

"Perhaps I should’ve asked before we left but, uh... Does anything actually live out here?"

"I don't usually go so far out in this direction, but I can't imagine any forest where something doesn't find a way to thrive..." Alma's voice trailed off. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed a strange looking bump peeking out from the snow. She inched wordlessly towards what she was desperately hoping was something she could put in her mouth.

"Alma?" called Hwalín.

The hungry markswoman had suddenly stopped and was now staring down at something blanketed in dirty, white slush.

Hwalín trotted up behind her and slapped her hand down onto Alma's shoulder.

"What're you looking at, mate?" She searched the ground, finding nothing of note that could possibly warrant Alma’s creepy behavior.

"I-It's one of those things." Alma gulped. "Can't you see it? It's there! It’s dead!"

"A chthonae?!" Hwalín gasped. "Well, no bloody shit I can't see it! I can only hear the damn things and that's assuming they're alive."

Alma kicked the dead creature.

"Oh, is that like a thing all elfwin can do?"

"What? No, you bloody racist!"

Alma looked at her in shock before Hwalín let out another obnoxious cackle.

"Kidding. Nah, I'm just special, I guess."

Alma sighed. A habit was forming.

"Now that you mention it, Q did mention you had some sort of gift."

"Did she now?" Hwalín put a hand to her chin. She seemed reluctant to talk about it.

Alma wondered if it would have been better not to say anything.

"Yeah,” Hwalín finally spoke. “I guess she did mention to me that something was up with your eyes too."

She seemed to search Alma's face for any hint of a similar reaction.

"Seems pretty useful, counting that we found this little bugger here."

Alma grimaced, recalling to mind something she heard earlier.

Hwalín let out a wry smile before clearing her throat.

"Hey now. I was just—I was joking about the whole eating them business. I didn't think we'd actually find one." Hwalín crossed her arm and placed a hand on her elbow, trying as hard as she could to not sound as embarrassed as she was feeling.

"Actually, Nia had expressed some interest in wanting to study one of these things up close." She looked down at the spot where the corpse was apparently lying. "She even spent a bit of time searching for one after you passed out yesterday."

"Well, I can see where her priorities lie at least." Alma sneered, trying her best to ignore some troubling implications.

There was still more that had been bothering her. The chthonae appeared a lot more corporeal than the last time she had seen them. Its weirdly pale and fleshy skin hanging off its quickly decaying body was causing Alma a bit of distress. Being that they were bug-like creatures, she had expected something with a carapace—some kind of hard shell or something. Its mouth was also agape and Alma noticed it had rows of oddly shaped teeth that seemed to travel inwards towards its body, going further than should be possible. Sprouting from its torso were six scythe-like appendages that looked extremely sharp. It had what appeared to be gills on the sides of its head, which she found odd considering there were no bodies of water for hundreds of miles. Perhaps they served some other purpose? What was most curious however, was its distinct lack of any sort of eyes. She reasoned that they must usually inhabit places that lack any semblance of light. The thought made Alma shudder.

Unexpectedly, it had also reminded her of the princess back home. The church and how it unfairly forces the royal family into a lifetime of blindness. Despite blaming it on the church, she felt a hint of remorse at the thought of Princess June never being able to see the world like the rest of her people.

Alma continued studying the creature, wondering whether it was a good idea to touch it or not. Thinking back to her recent scuffle with one of these beasts, if she had been able to see the thing's appearance properly at the time, she would have definitely lost her nerve and would instead now be some future animal's frozen treat.

Hwalín's head poked itself over Alma's shoulder.

"I wouldn't stare at that thing for too long, mate. You never know if it has some kind of hidden ability to control our minds or something. Even when dead." She stood up and took a step back. "Shit. Maybe it's only playing dead and getting ready to jump on your face!"

"So it can lay its eggs down my throat?" replied Alma in a dry tone, half-chuckling.

Hwalín's expression went deathly pale, causing Alma's eyes to roll into free fall.

"Thought you were the experienced hunter who's dealt with these kinds of things before," continued Alma. "Figured you for the expert here."

"I haven't actually been with Nia all that long, to be honest." The brash, Hecatian girl had been pinching her neck with her fingers, but quickly switched to fidgeting with her necklace when she noticed Alma looking at her. "I actually just kinda ran into her one day when she had first gotten here. I helped her get on her feet, so to speak, and I guess I just never stopped. She helped me... understand my ability. And now we've run into you."

She pulled a cigarette from a pack in her pocket and placed it in her mouth.

"Seems kinda like fate to me. Assuming that's not another one of her guises.” She offered one to Alma. “Sorry, did you want one?"

"No thanks.” Alma shook her head. “Tried one once, hated it. Anyway, I've kind of lost my appetite. Besides, these things have probably scared off any potential game long ago, so let's just get this lovely little pile back to camp and then we can finally get out of each other's hair."

"What have you got against us, Alma? We've been nothing but nice to you," said Hwalín, taking a slow drag off of her cigarette.

Alma ran her fingers through her soft, black hair, trying to find the right words.

"Believe it or not, the problem isn't you, Hwalín. Or Q. Any other day, I would have jumped at the chance to be a part of this crap. Belief in all the crazy, spooky metaphysics of our world is kind of my whole deal. I've heard so many myths and legends about the hinterlands outside our walls..." She looked over at the frozen corpse of the chthonae. Most of its flesh was a blueish gray color that she figured had probably been caused by the extreme cold. "It's just that... life was finally moving ahead for me, you know? I was all ready to give up these petty, childish dreams of wanting to hunt daemons and drag-hens and I was just really looking forward to the start of this whole new life for myself. Fighting the real bad guys, right? My home is my livelihood and I'd defend it at any cost."

Alma looked into Hwalín’s eyes and thought that maybe the elf could feel something relatable in what she was saying.

"Man,” continued Alma. “Here I thought maybe that woman was somehow influencing me into spilling my guts, but I guess whining is just one of my many attractive qualities."

The young girl made a half-hearted smile. "Sorry, I've bitched enough in front of both of you."

Hwalín stubbed out her cigarette in the snow and looked at Alma.

"You know drag-hens are real, don't you?"

Alma looked at her, mouth agape. She then began to laugh. She let out a laugh so hearty, it caused the pain in her body to double back—but she didn't care. Hwalín joined in laughing, letting out the same hoarse cackling that Alma wasn't sure was caused by either the elf’s constant smoking or just something she was naturally gifted with.