Marek watched his friend trot down the hill, slowly making her way toward the oasis below.


    Ashurai nudged him with an elbow. “The gods only made a single one of those. Any more like her and the world would break.”


    “She’s certainly entertaining. Couldn’t imagine all this drudgery without her wit present. Our quest wouldn’t be nearly so fun. Anyhow, we won’t be long. If Allon wakes tell him not to follow?”


    Rushi ran up, her eyes bright and eager. Ashurai knelt and placed a hand on the panganid’s neck. “I don’t think so, little one. You’ll only chase away Mags’ game, and then we’ll hear no end of it. You’re staying with me.” Smiling up at Marek, he added, “I’ll make sure Allon stays put as well.”


    Marek jogged to Ember and mounted. With a kick, he was on his way.


    Their camp sat below the eves of a small cliff which granted partial shelter from wind and dew. They’d chosen the place in part for the vantage it gave of the surrounding plains but more due to the cluster of foliage that sprouted up around a body of water a mile below. A grove of acacias surrounded by tall lush grasses gave away the resource that had been growing increasingly rare on their journey. Fresh water.


    Mags had gone on a solitary hunt the night before an hour before sunset and had returned cursing up a storm, claiming the deer of the Unbound Realm were prescient. After some coaxing, she’d divulged the details. Apparently, the deer had incredibly keen senses and had either smelled or heard her approaching well before she’d gotten within range.


    Marek stopped beside Mags and dismounted. He staked the horses on long leads to allow them ample room to graze. He stroked Ember''s neck and looked westward. The Rift was a dark and angry stain across the horizon. Despite traveling due east for half a week, and then northeast six more days, the pall of shadow refused to diminish much less disappear as one would suspect.  Apparently, distance as well as time worked differently here, or at least that was Ashurai''s guess.


    Mags whispered beside him. “If you’re coming, keep quiet,” she said with a playful grin. “No stomping about.”


    Marek shook his head but followed Mags as she strode deeper into the grass. His stealth skills had greatly improved thanks to Mags, and he had little trouble stalking through the grass silently in her wake. Soon they came to the edge of the acacias. Birds chittered in the high branches, and an oddly colored squirrel bounded limb to limb. The creature had a short stocky frame, and its tail stretched three times the length of its body. Every animal they’d seen on this side of the Rift was familiar, yet if one peered closely, all were distinct in various ways.


    A few minutes later, the spring came into view. Clinging to its shore was a herd of the strange deer. Getting a closer look at them for the first time, Marek could understand why his friend had failed in her last attempt. Even without a Class, Mags was a fine shot. With the impressive bow the Haikini had given her, she was more than competent. Yet the animals they hunted had adapted to the harsh environment. Tall, broad ears marked with vertical stripes sprouted from the tops of their heads, constantly twitching this way and that. Their eyes were shielded by long tufts of pale fur. Their hearing and vision were likely far more acute than that of a human’s.


    Marek’s eye searched beyond the deer, quickly finding the anomaly Mags had reported the night before. Ancient stone ruins sprouted up from the water and lay stacked in heaps on the far bank. Pillars of stone, broken archways carved in another time, and stacks of rubble could be seen in a glance.


    If any markings or features had adorned the ruins, they’d worn away long ago. All Marek could see from this distance were pock marks and deep cracks, though he couldn’t help but hope they might find something more distinct. Perhaps a statue of a forgotten deity lay hidden beneath a pile of weathered stone? Or a span of hand carved filigree? As so often happened in such places, Marek’s imagination flared to life. He pondered who might have lived here, and how such a structure had been made in the first place. Did the builders have Skills or some kind of magic to aid them? Or was it all crafted through hard labor? Better yet, how did they raise pillar underwater?


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    The spring feeding the pond might have risen after the structures had been built, or else the builders were sophisticated enough to erect stone despite the water.


    Marek chuckled at his own expense. They hadn’t come to puzzle out the origins of the ruins, though he did intend to explore a little after the hunt. For now, however, he needed to focus on the present.


    Mags stood in perfect silence beside him. Bow in hand, one of the enchanted arrows already knocked, she listened intently and scanned their surroundings. After several minutes, she nodded to Marek, and they crept through the thinning trees. When they reached the last acacia before open ground, she held up a hand. Marek knelt so that his head alone rose above the tall grass, then settled in to watch his friend at work.


    Mags stalked closer and closer with extreme patience. The buffeting winds provided some cover for her footsteps, and the woman wisely synced her movements with the heavier gusts. The tension continued to rise as she positioned herself. Beyond, the herd of deer shifted every now and again, grazing on the softer vegetation that sprouted along the shore of the pond.


    When the woman had come within three hundred and fifty paces, she knelt abruptly and dipped her head. Marek noticed the shift in the wind then, and understood her actions. Mags’ scent would soon reach her quarry, and if it did, the deer would likely scatter.


    A few of the creatures lifted their heads, ears growing stiff. Mags had run out of time. In a smooth motion, she raised the Horned Bow of the Beastkin and drew. Even with its enchantments, increased range and arrow speed as well as the passive Steady Hands it granted, the shot was wildly ambitions for anyone without a Class. A thousand feet on a windy day, aiming for an animal as slender as a fawn, Marek normally wouldn’t dare hope for success. Please work, he thought, willing his enchantments to be effective. Come on, Mags, you’ve got this.


    The arrow leapt from the bow. Its length shimmered slightly as the sigils activated. He heard the twang shortly after. The herd flinched collectively. The animals bolted, though one among them had time enough only to turn from the water''s edge before the arrow thumped into its ribs. The impact caused the beast to roll in the air, and it landed awkwardly. Two panicked bounds in the wrong directly, and the deer fell with a splash in the shallows.


    Mags jumped twice in celebration while Marek ran from cover. His heart was racing with excitement by the time he caught up with her. "I did it!" Mags shouted. "I''ll be damned, but I did it!”


    “Sure did,” Marek said, admiring the fierce grin of triumph that painted his friend’s face. “Clean kill too.”


    Mags glanced at the fallen deer and shook her head. “Gods, but I wish Liam could have seen that. He’d never believe me otherwise. Nice job on that arrow, by the way. I didn’t think it would work, but them sigils lit up like candles and boy did that arrow fly!”


    He shrugged, not wanting to accept the praise. “It was you that fired it. I’ve seen you do some impressive work with a bow, but the conditions were rough. Nice shot.”


    Mags threw her arms around him in a hug, laughing like a fool. Seeing clearly behind the woman now, Marek caught the exact moment when something strange and terrible burst from the depths of the pond. A hideous head emerged, bulbous yellow eyes breaking the water’s surface first before a long snout came into view. Two oversized fangs jutted up from the lower jaw, curving out to the sides of the creature’s pale face. A muscular torso, humanoid but alien, emerged next.


    Marek couldn’t believe his eyes. A monster he’d never seen nor heard of scrambled from the depths, four powerful legs and a long tail propelling the beast with incredible speed. Every inch of the exposed body shimmered with reflective scales. With the upright torso of a man and the splayed legs and elongated body of a lizard, the beast was hideous to say the least. And apparently, it was hungry.


    It dipped its head, guiding two scythe like appendages. They snapped forward and sunk into Mags’ kill. Blood poured from the deer, coloring the water and the monster’s pale skin bright crimson.


    Mags spun at the explosion of water, then mouth gaping, she shouted, “What in the Rift is that?”


    Marek shook his head in disbelief and wonder. "No idea, Magpie, but I''m pretty sure it’s about to eat our breakfast."


    “The hells it is!” Mags growled, drawing an arrow and lifting her bow.


    “Mags, don’t!” Marek cried, but his warning came too late. The twang of a taut bowstring told Marek everything he needed to know. He and Mags were in for a fight.