Linda took a deep breath, the scent of pine and damp earth filling her lungs as she studied her rescuers...
Izze's rough-hewn features were sharp in the afternoon light...
Theodore's clinical detachment belied by the faintest tension around his eyes.
The confession about Vael's mark burned in her throat, but she swallowed it down.
These people had saved her from becoming hollow food, but trusting strangers with divine secrets felt like clicking phishing links blindfolded.
"I'm glad you found me. I don't know what I would've done if you didn't show up..." Linda said instead, fingers worrying the hem of her scavenged tunic. "What were you doing in those ruins before... well, before me?"
Izze barked a laugh, kicking a loose stone down the hillside with her worn boot. "Guild business, sunshine. Hollow patrol. We clear nests before they get big enough to spill into the city." She tapped her dagger hilt against her thigh, the rhythm uneven like a corrupted heartbeat. "Standard Gold Rank work. Theodore here keeps us walking when shit goes sideways."
"We theorize the shards act as nodes. Destroy one, and the local tapestry collapses. Although only a few have ever been destroyed... Today's target was a tertiary infestation, barely worth noting until your..." Theodore explained, his gaze flicking to Linda's hidden tattoo. "...unexpected appearance complicated the variables."
Izze snorted.
"What Teddy means is... We stab the fuckers before they multiply. Simple as that." Izze said as she mimed a quick thrust-and-twist motion with her dagger. "First rule? Always go for the skull. Hearts don't mean shit when the damn things have a hug hole in there chest." Her yellow eyes gleamed with something darker than humor. "Second rule? Never fight fair. Hollows sure as hell won't!"
Linda nodded, tucking her silver hair behind her pointed ears.
"I understand the theory," Linda admitted, hands clasping tight enough to whiten her knuckles. "But I've never held a weapon before. Not- not like that."
The admission tasted bitter.
Back home, she'd been the one who secured networks against digital intruders, not fought monsters in ruined temples.
That was saved for books or Skyrim.
Izze sized her up with a critical eye, tapping her dagger hilt against her thigh in an irregular rhythm.
"You got hands, legs, and a brain, don't you? That's all the gear you need to start." Izze said with a wave of her hand.
Linda swallowed roughly, glancing down at her own palms - long-fingered and unfamiliar, not at all calloused like Izze's.
"I don't- I've never—" Line tried to get out, but Theodore took pity on her.
"Combat aptitude isn't always inherent, Linda. It's a skill like any other. The guild trains recruits regularly. Basic footwork, weapon drills, tactical awareness. All can be learned with sufficient repetition." Theodore added with a dip of his head.
Izze grinned, sharp and sudden.
"Besides, you're Solanthe-blessed, ain't ya? That means you got something special under the hood." Izze pointed out, jabbing a thumb at her own claw-mark tattoo… Your mark's gotta give you some edge. We just gotta poke it awake."
Linda's pulse spiked.
The lie about her false blessing felt like walking a frayed tightrope...
One wrong move...
...and she'd plummet into questions she couldn't answer.
"I-I'll do my best," Linda stammered and forced a smile their way.
Theodore's eyes flicked to the descending sun, its light bleeding through the canopy like liquid amber.
"We won't reach Brennale before nightfall," Theodore said, a small sigh escaping his lips. "We can walk another three hours before sundown. That should put us near Willowbend Creek." His fingers tapped against his staff, eyes flicking to Linda's bare feet. "Izze, find her suitable footwear before we move."
Izze rolled her shoulders with an exaggerated groan but rummaged through her pack, tossing Linda a pair of tightly-wrapped cloth boots.
"Wear these, princess. They're shit, but better than shredded soles." Izze said, her smirk widening as Linda gingerly examined the unfamiliar lacing. "Never seen wraps before? Gods, you really are fresh."
The lesson that followed was brusque, but thorough, as Izze's calloused hands demonstrated the crisscross technique with surprising patience.
Linda's fingers fumbled - too slow, too uncertain - but she persisted until the wraps snugged securely around her arches, the coarse fabric molding to her new Aelvyn physiology with unexpected comfort.
The trek through Quorrith's hinterlands unfolded in rhythmic silence punctuated by the occasional snapped twig or distant avian cry. Izze moved like a prowling predator, her Drevan-blessed senses scanning the terrain ahead while Theodore maintained a precise rear guard, his fingers occasionally brushing moss-covered stones as if diagnosing the land's health.
Linda kept pace between them, her silver hair catching amber light as she catalogued details with a cyber-security analyst's precision.
The way Izze's shoulder muscles tensed microseconds before altering course around hidden sinkholes.
How Theodore's staff never quite touched the ground when crossing fungal patches that pulsed faintly with bioluminescence.
These were professionals and Linda was impressed.
Sunset painted the canopy in violent hues by the time Willowbend Creek emerged from the forest - a ribbon of mercury cutting through basalt formations worn smooth by centuries of erosion.
Izze halted at the treeline, nostrils flaring as she crouched to inspect paw prints fossilized in the creekbank mud, her claw-mark tattoo flaring slightly under the fading light.
Theodore unfolded his map with precise movements, tracing their route with one finger while his other hand tapped an arrhythmic pattern against his thigh.
Linda hovered near Izze, watching as the goblin warrior sniffed the air like a bloodhound, her yellow eyes scanning the creekbank's disturbed earth.
"Cold trail," Izze grunted, nudging a broken fern frond with her boot. "Single hollow. Probably one of the runners from the ruin. Smells like old rot and wet iron." She straightened, cracking her knuckles. "Long gone by now. Thing was moving fast. See how the claw marks drag here? Full sprint."
Theodore's staff hummed faintly as he approached.
"No nest behavior then," Theodore observed, adjusting his glasses. "Just straggler dispersal." His clinical tone didn't mask the subtle relaxation in his shoulders.
Linda exhaled through her nose, her new Aelvyn ears twitching at the creek's murmur. The analytical part of her brain - the part that used to trace firewall breaches - noted how Izze's assessment matched Theodore's relief.
One enemy meant manageable risk.
No network of threats, just a single corrupted node fleeing its collapsed system.
Linda hesitated before clearing her throat.
"Should we... make camp here then?" Linda asked, licking her new but dry lips, her stomach growling loudly.
Linda's face immediately reddened at the noise.
"Does sunshine need some food?" Izze smirked, already unbuckling her pack with a practiced twist of her wrist. The Krithak moved with economical precision as she produced a wax-paper parcel from her pack's side pocket. "Figured you'd be hungry after playing damsel in distress back there."
Izze tossed the bundle toward Linda, who barely caught it with fumbling hands. Inside, dried strips of some reddish meat glistened with rendered fat, the scent of smoked paprika and juniper sharp enough to make Linda's mouth flood with saliva despite her embarrassment.
Theodore knelt by the creekbank, his robes pooling around him like spilled ink as he filled a small copper kettle with practiced efficiency.
"Protein first," Theodore murmured without looking up, fingers tracing the water's surface in a way that made the liquid ripple unnaturally. "Then tea. The creek's clean. I'd detect any hollow taint immediately."
Linda nodded, nibbling the jerky - gamey yet rich, with an aftertaste like smoked rosemary - before speaking up.
"I... haven't had proper tea in ages." Linda admitted, watching Theodore measure dried leaves from a tin with exacting precision. "If- if you'd like, I could brew it? Be useful while you two do other... things."
Theodore glanced up, lenses flashing as he studied her hesitant fingers, too soft for wilderness survival yet oddly precise in their movements.
"You may," Theodore conceded after a pause, pushing the kettle toward her with one finger. "Though I'd advise against overheating the leaves. Goldenrod scorches easily."
Izze's eyes narrowed like a predator catching scent.
Not hostile, but alert.
"Funny how some memories stick while others go missing," Izze mused, watching Linda measure leaves with unconscious precision. "Either you're the world's fastest learner, or that 'amnesia' of yours is picky about what it forgets, eh princess?"
Linda wanted to slap herself for being careless, but the response just lipped out and she thought she'd be a terrible actor...
Linda froze, fingers hovering over the kettle as Theodore's clinical gaze and Izze's predatory scrutiny pinned her in place. The scent of goldenrod leaves tickled her nose - something familiar, achingly so - like the chamomile tea her grandmother used to brew after late-night coding sessions.
"I... think I remembered something," Linda responded, carefully measuring each word as she spoke. "When Theodore mentioned tea, it- it felt like muscle memory. My grandmother taught me."
The partial truth settled awkwardly on her tongue, but at least it wasn't a full lie.
Izze shrugged and waved a dismissive hand before tearing into her own jerky with sharp teeth.
"Alright, alright, memory's weird like that." Izze said as she spoke around mouthfuls of meat, grease glistening on her chin. "Had a partner once who forgot his own damn name after a hollow bite, but could still recite every tavern song from here to Vaelmourn." Her eyes gleamed in the light as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Point is, brains are shit at prioritizing what to keep."
Linda exhaled shakily, grateful the conversation had veered away from her. She focused on brewing the tea, steeping the leaves precisely three minutes before removing them, just as Theodore instructed. The golden liquid shimmered in the fading light, its aroma earthy and comforting. She poured three cups with steady hands, the motions feeling strangely familiar despite her new body.
Izze finished her meal and began assembling a fire pit with practiced efficiency, arranging stones in a tight circle before striking flint against steel. Sparks leapt onto dried moss, blooming into flames that licked hungrily at the kindling. The firelight painted her grey braids in flickering copper as she fed larger branches to the growing blaze, her movements economical and sure.
Theodore knelt nearby, unfurling their map across a flat stone. His fingers traced invisible routes as he murmured calculations under his breath, occasionally adjusting his glasses when the firelight reflected off the lenses.
Linda hesitated before speaking up, but decided to be brave and be the one to initiate the beautiful Krithak.
"Izze... do you have any, um, interesting adventuring stories?" Linda asked, her voice barely louder than the crackling flames. "If it's not too much trouble."
Izze barked a laugh, tossing another branch into the fire.
"Forty winters in the game, sweetheart, course I got stories," Izze answered, stretching her legs toward the flames with a satisfied groan. "Back when I was greener than your ears, took down a hollowed Tholgar in Drosthul's ice caves. Big bastard swung a ship's anchor like it was a fucking toy." She mimed the motion, her claw-mark tattoo catching firelight. "Drevan's blessing let me track his stench through the snowfall. Gutted the fucker through the knee joint when he over-swung. That's the trick with giants... Their bones are tough, but tendons snap the same as anyone's. Just gotta cut a little deeper is all. Twelve Hells, I'm glad he didn't have Korath's blessing or I would've been fucked."
Theodore sipped his tea, the steam curling around his sharp features.
"Accurate, if vulgar," Theodore murmured. "Though I recall patching three broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder afterward."
Izze snorted.
"Worth it for the look on the guildmaster's face when I dragged that anchor head into the hall. Made Gold Rank that winter." Her eyes gleamed as she studied Linda across the fire. "Point is, princess, even us small-fry can take down big game if we hit the weak points. Everything dies at some point."
Linda found herself smiling - a real one this time - as Izze's words settled into her bones. For the first time since waking in that ruined temple, she didn't feel like a burden or an intruder in this world.
Maybe Vael had known what she was doing, placing her precisely where Izze and Theodore would find her.
The thought warmed her more than the goldenrod tea ever could.
But as the flames dwindled to embers, Linda's gaze drifted to the creek's reflection of the twin moons, their fractured light rippling like shattered glass on the water's surface. The sight pulled her back to New York's rain-slick pavement, to the cold shock of the knife between her ribs, to the way her blood had pooled around her in perfect crimson spirals before everything went dark.
Random.
Violent.
Over quickly.
Her fingers tightened around the empty cup.
The fire guttered out, leaving only the scent of charred wood and the distant cry of a night-hunting bird.
Linda lay back on her bedroll, staring at the unfamiliar constellations through the canopy, her silver hair tangled in the rough wool. Somewhere beyond those stars, her old life's servers still hummed in climate-controlled rooms, oblivious that their best security analyst had died with a week's worth of takeout containers stacked beside her keyboard. The thought should have hurt more. Instead, she simply closed her eyes, listening to Izze's snoring and Theodore's quiet page-turning until sleep took her...