I turned and found the source of the voice: a lean, young woman with a deep olive complexion already halfway between us and the tree line, carrying a felled doe across her shoulders. She maintained a casual gait across the uneven terrain and had an affable smile. She showed no signs of strain despite her petite frame and the burden she carried. Following behind her were three men. None of them made a hint of a sound as they walked. If she hadn't announced her arrival, I would have never noticed her until she was breathing down my neck.

She let the doe slide to the ground. It had iridescent streaks and spots covering its back. At first glance, I would have mistaken the animal for a deer from home, but its Marks glimmered a light purple and green when they caught the light, though not with the vibrance I'd come to expect.

Was that because it was dead?

Whoever had felled the deer had done a clean job of it. The only sign of injury was a single, small hole tinged with purplish red near the front of its flank. The fur around it had just traces of blood.

Killed quick. A single shot to the heart? That took skill back on Earth, but here, rabbits could warp. What could a deer do?

I examined the most probable candidate for the hunter in question. My eyes, now trained by the weeks in this world, immediately moved to her Marks, unobstructed by her long green hair with faint streaks of brown, pulled back into a low ponytail. Their placement differed from the norm. A fine dappling traced the upper eyebrows and upper rim of her prominent cheeks and the high, straight bridge of her nose. The iridescent blues and greens increased in concentration as they neared her emerald-green eyes, creating the appearance of an intricate and elaborate eye shadow that paired well with her deep-olive—no, make that more bronze-olive—complexion. If she had more Marks, they remained hidden under her gear, but I had seen enough. Their intricacy denoted a tier much higher than my own—and those with her.

She appeared completely aware of her rank. Despite her height, which hovered near five feet, and looking no older than my younger body, her posture radiated command. The men with her remained silent, awaiting her lead.

They had to have shared some common ancestry with Auren. They had the same lithe build and olive complexion as the master [Leatherworker], though their hair held only thin strands of green intermixed with brown or black. Each carried evidence of a dangerous life. One had a pale scar running along his cheek. Another's eyes had never stopped moving, drinking in our surroundings. The third moved with deceptive ease, but the missing pinky finger on the hand carrying his bow told a different story. They all had Marks in the same vein as the young woman before them, though only a fraction of the intricacy of hers.

Given the way this expedition seemed to divvy people up, they—and, by implication, the young woman—had to be part of the Oresian contingent. However, their garb and tools differed from a crafter's. Dark cloaks protected their backs. Underneath each, they wore pieces of dark-green padded shirts with dark leather tactically overlaid on their torsos, forearms, and legs. The scuffs and scratches, some quite deep, drew my eye, but they were distractions, hiding the subtle filigree along edges that shimmered when it caught the light. If the quality of a person's gear signified their skill, this squad was not to be trifled with, and that didn't take into account the bow strapped to their backs with a quiver attached to one hip and a long, bare wooden blade attached to the other.

Of course, the woman before me hadn't remained idle during my examination. She, too, had taken my stock, though she opted to reveal none of what she had determined. Instead, she addressed Esper. "Is he the reason you're late?" Her confidence was undeniable, leaving even less doubt on who ran this group.

"Yes. I have acquired a student." Esper's voice contained no disdain. In fact, was that a hint of humor? From Esper? The impossibility of such a cordial relationship with anyone almost had me turning to confirm the Ættar hadn't been replaced by another.

"Unexpected, but I can't say it is undeserved."

"I doubt my Master sees it the same way as you."

The newcomer just shook her head. "You know, the offer still stands. We would not undervalue you so."

"We've discussed this." While there was annoyance, it didn't carry her typical harshness.

Could Esper have friends?

"Fine." She let the topic drop and gave me a warm smile. "By the way, I am Selene Sporatoros."

My mind fritzed as it processed her name. A fact she noticed.

"You okay there?" Selene's smile turned playful.

"Sorry. The way you say your name caught me by surprise. I'm used to hearing it end with 'leen' instead of both the middle and last syllables ending with an 'eh.'"

She gave me a strange look. "It is standard for Common."

"Yeah…It's..."

Esper saved me from finding an explanation. "It is complicated. Suffice it to say, he isn't with another group of Humans, and he is working with my people."

The Lövfödda's head drew back, and her scrutiny intensified. Even the men behind her, who had remained expressionless throughout our entire conversation, couldn't completely hide their surprise.

In an attempt to diffuse the awkwardness, I raised a hand in greeting. "By the way, it's—my name is Daniel Burkhart."

"Okay, Daniel." Her smile returned, warmer than before. "You'll have to tell me that story sometime."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Esper didn't let me respond. "I doubt that he will have time. He has a lot of catching up to do."

Selene pouted. "Are you going to deprive me of an interesting story? You know what they say: all work and no play…"

Esper scowled, and I…had heard enough. Esper. Had. A. Friend.

Though, unlike the other groups here, the standoffish Ættir did seem to respect the Lövfödda. And these two did look the same age. And they appeared rather skilled for someone so young. So maybe not that strange, but still…

Selene let out a long sigh. "And speaking of work, we should get back to it. Are we doing the normal run?"

"As best as we can. I will be showing him some of the basics of gathering herbs. So we won't make good time."

Selene hummed. "Then I will give a call when we need to turn back."

"That works well. I did not expect to make the full circuit."

Selene turned her attention to me. "And what's your experience out here?"

"I—"

Esper cut me off. "Expect nothing from him. He moves like a babe through the woods. He will likely draw animals and monsters from quite a distance."

"Humans always make life difficult." However, her words were light, almost teasing, and made undeniable by a subtle wink. "Keep close to your Master, and you should be fine." She then addressed Esper. "We are down a few. So do be careful, especially given the timing."

"More of the [Pathfinders] showing symptoms?"

The Lövfödda nodded. "Our [Healers] have been conscripted to help the guard. Our scouting doesn't quite have the same importance." She almost spit out the last word.

"I can take a look after we finish here."

Selene bowed her head. "It would be appreciated."

Esper nodded and then waved me to follow. "Come on, my student. It is time you learn how to obtain materials for your class."

"Sounds good."

As I turned to leave, Serene pointed to one of her companions, then the doe. "We can do a proper job on this later. For now, take care of this quickly and then hurry to catch up with us." The [Pathfinder] unslung her bow, quickly stringing it. She spoke to the rest of her companions, not bothering to hide her next question. "Any bets on how many extra arrows I am going to have to use because of our guest?"

A chorus of replies came from the reserved men. None of their bets was zero.

"Thanks for the confidence," I grumbled under my breath.

She just laughed. "I heard that, and I think they are being too generous. However, we'll see how terrible you are at walking softly."

***

As much as I hated to admit it, I was terrible. I was never an outdoorsman, but I had hiked a few times. However, Esper and the [Pathfinders] were right. I sucked at this. Esper always found a spot to put her foot that didn't create a sound. Even when I tried to follow her steps, I seemed to snap every branch or twig that I could. Multiple times, she turned with a look that an exasperated parent gave a child. I stopped mouthing an apology after the third time. They did little to soothe her. Instead, I worked on minimizing the sounds as best I could.

I was so focused that I didn't even notice that break in the tree cover until after we entered a small glade. The space wasn't as large an open space as where we met the [Pathfinders], but a large tree had fallen, knocking down enough of its neighbors to allow a few rays to pierce down to the floor. Instead of green moss covering the floor, a few large ferns and a few flowering bushes had sprouted up in the pools of sunlight. With the sounds of birds chirping in the background, the scene could be straight out of a movie.

Esper waved me over. "Hurry. This is our first stop, and we must hurry. You are even slower than I had expected. The [Pathfinders] are stretched too thin for them to check on us frequently. We need to keep up the pace they expect, or we risk leaving the perimeter they have established."

I bit down an annoyed retort and knelt next to her. Before her sat a small fern with purple and green leaves that spread out like a dense, unkempt wig. From the center, coiled blue-green fronds covered by a coat of fine and unnaturally purple hairs sprang up like antennae.

I squatted beside her. "We harvesting the fern?"

"No." She pushed up one of the fern's blades to reveal a group of vivid violet flowers growing from a network of vines. "We will be harvesting this. The bloom specifically."

I leaned closer to inspect them, catching a whiff of a sweet scent. The flower had five deep-violet petals with high arches that created a deep cup, its depth obscuring the base of the structure that sprang from it. pistil and stamens. Yet, it had another mystery—a density of Aether more appropriate for the mine. I squinted in the low light, only making fine fractal patterns that narrowed into a thick band as they descended from the petals toward the center of the flower.

"Are those Marks? They are so intricate?"

"Yes. It is what makes it so prized. And most would call these markings. Marks are reserved for those beings capable of thought. Now, have you harvested herbs and plants before?"

I had done some gardening as a kid. But that was most definitely not what she had meant. "Just assume I know nothing."

"As expected then."

I scowled at her jibe, but I still paid attention. As she pointed to the petals. "This plant uses its petals to feed on Aether and turn it into Energy, which will help it to sustain itself and grow even without the sunlight most plants need."

She shifted to point to the center. If I squinted, I could make out the tip of a bumpy and conical mound at the center of the petals. The structure, a complex swirl of multiple colors, likely contained the stamen or pistil. I racked my brain trying to remember which was which. I waited for my memory skill to fire, but nothing happened.

Should I have expected anything else? It did say [Eidetic Memory: Medicine], after all.

I returned my attention to Esper as she started to speak. "This part of the flower doesn't absorb much Aether, but it is one of the places in plants where you will find the highest collections of its essence. If fresh, you will also notice high concentrations of Energy. Collections of Energy and essence tend to go hand-in-hand."

"What about Aether?"

"You may see some, but generally, Aether is from the stones, sky, and soil. The living must suckle from the Mother's teat. When her bounty is scarce, we starve, growing weak. When it is bountiful, we grow strong, mending our wounds and using our gifts with ease. But life is a balance. Some of her lingers with us, but too much…"

Patchy memories of my episodes of Aether toxicity came back to me, and I shuddered. Esper let out a low chuckle. "You know this well, but some people forget until it is too late. We can purge some, but too much Aether will make our Spark fade. Beasts are never that foolish."

"And plants?"

"They are closer to Mother. They can carry more of her gift within them. You can measure the strength of her gift by the plants around you."

I waited for more, but she just returned to her lecture on the plant. She drew a semicircular line in the dirt around it. "I can't show them to you, but the roots also play a large role. They are pulling Aether-touched nutrients from the ground. Each piece of this flower has its purpose, but we will not go into depth on that now. Given our limited time, we will focus on how to harvest it."

"I take it it is not as easy as plucking it."

"Only if you want to lose more than half the possible yield, which you can't afford. You will need potions and salves to advance your class. I doubt you'll ever have the money to pay for it. Now," she pointed at the flower, "you are going to need to watch—or more appropriately, sense—what I do here. I'll tell you that the key to harvesting herbs is concentration."

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