Something cracked in the distance. A branch? My head whipped around, but then Esper's voice came from behind the tree. "Hurry, Daniel. Run. They are going to catch us."

The urgency in her voice left me no other conclusion. I didn't hesitate. I sprinted toward her, not daring to look back as the sounds of heavy breathing grew louder and louder. Underbrush blurred into colorful streaks as it whipped across my face. I plowed through, not slowing.

In the distance, Esper called out. "Hurry up. You are going too slow."

My heart heaved, and I pushed myself to my limit. My breaths became labored. My legs burned. In the distance, I made out a clearing.

We can make a stand there.

Esper's yell shattered that hope. "By the Mother, they have surrounded us."

Ice crawled down my neck, and out of instinct, I turned. [Quicken Thoughts] slowed time to a crawl, freezing the direwolf's leap in midair. It was smaller and its markings were less developed than the ones I had faced before. It was more of a large wolf than a direwolf, but it didn't slam into me any less hard. It drove me into the ground, knocking the air from my lungs and sending up a spray of dry needles.

I'm going to be taken down by a freaking pup.

It snapped at me, fetid breath and spittle striking my face. It raked its claws, and I moved my head to the side just in time. It only grazed my cheek, but it did far worse to my coat. A loud ripping filled my ears.

Again? I just got it fixed.

"Kill it, Daniel. [Sterilize] it," Esper screamed. Time slowed again.

Could I? Could I sterilize it?

I had done that to myself. What was the difference between the brain stem versus a ganglion? A bit more medial. A little more rostral. Definitely more Energy. I could do it. But should I?

Esper's voice rang out in my mind, "You already killed a direwolf with your skill. How is this any different?"

My mind flashed to when I stroked out the direwolf. It wasn't really just my skill. I just hastened what was already happening.

"It is no different," she demanded. "You acted. You used the skill. You killed the direwolf. Save yourself. Save me!"

I brought my perception back to the wolf. It would kill me in a heartbeat if I let it. I drew on the power. It built up in my head and hands, but I couldn't unleash it. I hit resistance—from me or the direwolf?

I knew the answer. Sorry, Esper, I can't.

Time sped up, and the wolf sank its jaws into me. My vision went white as fire spread down my arm. Then my body jerked—not from the wolf but from the release of the skill. My vision went black. My awareness faded but not before the wolf suddenly went slack in my arms.

***

I jerked up, eyes wide, heart pounding, chest heaving.

[Skill Evolved: Sterilize —> Sterilization]

I fell back into the hard bed, letting the words reverberate in my entire being, though this time, a coolness washed over me and the darkness lost a tinge of its depth. I took deep breaths, trying to slow my breathing.

"A dream," I whispered out loud. "Just a dream."

Peace came easily, but the rough sheets still clung to my sweaty chest, and my muscles ached more than they should. I turned my head to the bathroom, the singular source of light in the room. Save for a soft white reaching from the thin space below the door, no light filtered through the slight cracks in the shutters' slats nor under the front door.

What time is it?

I rolled over to check my clock—which I didn't have. Sleep still muddled my mind, but I reached for an alternative. I searched the drawer by feel, my fingers hitting a cool metallic object I had tucked deep in the back. I brought it to my ear.

Silence.

I had forgotten to wear or wind my watch one too many days, and it had long wound down its reserve. I rolled back on the bed and ran my fingers along the watch's smooth edge, finding the crown. With a small bend of my fingers, my nails found purchase. I popped the crown out and slowly rolled it. With each turn, the small gears moved with a soft click.

I brought the watch, a bit of a home in my hands, to my ear. The soft ticking soothed my nerves. The dream had begun to fade to a blur, but enough remained fresh. The jaws, the pain as they clamped down, the feel of a feral beast going limp in my arms. I had let the power go. I had killed it, and I was rewarded.

No. That's not how the skill changed.

I let out another long, deep breath as I twisted the crown. I lost myself in the meditative click, click, click.

I had the power to maim—or worse, and when pushed to the brink…

I will not become a killer.

My hand clasped around the watch, gripping the cold metal tight. Lost in survival mode, I had let it languish, but I couldn't let that keep happening.

I can't forget where I came from. I can do better.

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I turned the crown more, only for a howling wind to smother the sound. A roar followed, then cut short by another gust of wind. The longhouse roof creaked in protest of the wind's strength. The room's darkness took on a new meaning. I once again focused on breathing to slow the heart rate.

It's the Fel Wind. I'm safe in here.

I had no love for the Volki, but I could still appreciate their defense of the walls if only for their own self-interest.

I closed my eyes, but sleep wouldn't come.

I can't just keep being a helpless passenger in this world.

I needed to understand. For that, I needed data, and that started tonight.

My mind churned with options, but the basics came first: did this world have a 24-hour day? I had assumed it based on my sleep schedule, but a similar circadian rhythm was just a pattern, not a measure of time. In all likelihood, this body was new, native to this world. Normal sleep could measure six hours or ten. I wouldn't know the difference. However, I had half the solution to my question in my hands and the other half from Esper and Selene. They marked the passing of time with the sun, and I could do the same. Barring that, I could use the bells. I could at least get an idea—more about this world.

I laid out plans and further experiments, and with each, a small knot unraveled in my gut. My thoughts started to slow; holes in my plans formed. I didn't chase them. I let sleep take me, even as the wind continued to howl.

***

A thud on the door, followed by a "Daniel," woke me from my slumber. I sat up in bed, a weight still in my hand.

My watch.

Plans from last night came back to me, but now the risks came with them. The [Quartermaster] had shown way too much interest in it, and did I dare risk damaging it?

The thuds on the door intensified. "One moment," I groaned.

I needed more time to prepare. I slipped the watch back into its place in the drawer before heading to the door.

I put my hand on the bar but hesitated. "Who is it?"

"Good, you asked. It is Rægnor. Now open the door. It is getting late."

I lifted the bar and opened the door to find Rægnor dressed in the typical gear for mining. He didn't come in, just looked me up and down.

"You are not ready."

I shook my head. "It was a rough night."

Rægnor grunted in agreement. "The Fel Wind howled for far too long." His gaze flickered toward the walls. "The guards earned their keep."

Some of the last night came back to me. "You heard the roars?"

Rægnor nodded. "Yes. The beasts were aggressive."

"Then let's not linger with the door open. Come in while I change."

I stepped back and waved him in, and he didn't argue with the invitation, walking in and lowering the bar on the door after he closed it. I grabbed a change of clothes I had pilfered from another chest of drawers. I suppressed a shiver as I headed to the bathroom. It didn't take me long to get ready, and a quick splash to my face helped wake me up. It paled next to coffee, but what didn't?

I paused briefly as I took in the Mark on my face. The mirror's quality was lacking, but it provided enough detail. Had it grown? I activated [Quicken Thoughts], slowing the world just as the Mark began to emanate light. A soft cerulean blue covered more of my face, with thicker lines than I remembered. Faint veins of blue ran down my neck and under my shirt collar.

It has spread.

If I ignored the implications, it was beautiful. Not even the most skilled tattoo artist could mimic the detail. Some of the branches spiraled like a nautilus shell, while others made offshoots similar to the leaves' veins. My Mark didn't match the complexity of the others, but it was edging closer.

I let the skill drop, returning to normal speed and to a question from Rægnor. "Are you done yet?"

"One moment," I called back. I tore my eyes away from my Mark, taking in the other changes. I did not grow the best beard, but now I sported far more than a five o'clock shadow. Beads of water clung to the scruff on my face. As I wiped them away, a few dripped onto my chest, sharpening the contrast between the temperature of my warm bed and the chill of the bathroom. A shiver swept through me, and I did a quick jog in place to get my blood pumping. Normally, the longhouse's subpar insulation didn't matter, but the clothes I now wore had no enchantments. If it were this cold in the longhouse…

Just one more day until I can pick them up.

Rægnor tilted his head. "Is everything all right?"

"As good as it can be."

That sufficed for him. "Then let me get you to your senior. I already talked to her about making sure you are not just left unattended."

***

We walked quickly to the healer's lodge, and I took in the effects of last night's storm. It had been worse than the previous ones. Branches of different sizes littered the camp. A layer of grime coated the buildings and patches of the ground. Even the colors of the trees beyond the walls were muted. It didn't seem to affect most people, save one Volk who let out a loud sneeze. A similar smattering of workers headed to the Commons or the mine entrance, and guards still walked the walls.

The sky was clear, and for the most part, so was the air. However, with a strong enough breeze, clouds of brown and neon-green billowed from the tree branches. They dispersed quickly in the air, but when the wind hit right, I had a foul taste in the back of my mouth as I breathed.

I sniffed, fighting back my own sneeze. "We should be wearing masks," I murmured. Rægnor shot me a questioning glance. "The dust seems unhealthy."

"A little dust has not killed anyone."

I begged to differ, but I deferred my lecture on Black Lung. "I think this is more than dust."

"Yes. The winds also carry pollen, which many find irritating. The Wilds' are particularly potent, but it does not cause problems for most, though you may be more susceptible."

"Because of my tier?" He nodded. "Wonderful. But really, that just seems awfully…convenient."

He shrugged. "The Lövfödda claim that we are in the season for some of these trees, and they know this terrain better than any of us. The fierce winds would strip more than normal, but that's expected."

"I see," though I couldn't help but glance up at the plumes of particles scattered with each heavy breeze.

When we arrived, Rægnor knocked, and Esper opened the door. The two said nothing, but a nod from Esper conveyed all Rægnor needed. Without another word, Rægnor headed back toward the mine.

I followed behind her, shutting the door and leaving us in a dimly lit room. I scanned the place, and once again, we had the Healer's Lodge to ourselves. "The Vísir is out?"

"The Tenevozh called for [Healers] outside the Volki. My Master was obligated to assist."

"Last night seemed bad, but that's worse than I'd expect."

She shook her head. "Last night did tax the guards, but it wasn't that bad. It is easier for [Healers] to recover when not pushed to exhaustion."

"I am surprised she did not send you."

It happened so quickly that I almost missed Esper stiffen. "It is better for everyone that she represents my people. However, you," she eyed me, "seem to have recovered."

Right, and we can put that weird interaction into the discuss-later column.

So instead, I shrugged. She wasn't wrong about my recovery. The aches and pains had vanished by the time I had woken up. "I expected to hurt more, but really, I am just tired. I didn't sleep particularly well."

"The memories of the fight?"

"Sort of."

"Hmph, not surprising. It was your first hunt, but the worst of those memories will fade over time."

"I hope so."

"They will. Your tier will make it easier. The Mother's gift will help you find balance."

This time, I froze. My Marks could be affecting my mood? It didn't seem possible, but the [Quartermaster] had said that melancholy—depression—was rare. Dorian didn't even know the term. Even now, only fragments of my dream remained, and they didn't carry any emotional weight.

Esper's brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just thinking that it has already started, though that wasn't the only thing keeping me up. Esper—" I winced at my slip, yet she waited, her face a mask, but one without any anger.

"You have earned the right to my name." Esper's words replayed in my head.

She means it.

"The worst dream dealt with [Sterilize]. It changed."

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