Oh no, why did I say that out loud? Sage scolded herself, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She knew it was risky to ask, something she never would have done under normal circumstances, but the familiar scent lingered around her and she couldn’t ignore it. The others in the group were easy to scent—sweat, old leather, and other odors she’d rather not think about. Sage’s senses were always sharp, but this was different. She felt exposed, awkward, and worried she’d pushed too far.

  Katherine stared at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “You want… to smell me?” she asked, her confusion clear. Sage could see the tension in Katherine’s posture; it was obvious Katherine would defend herself if she felt threatened.

  Sage’s shoulders hunched as she tried to make herself smaller. “It’s for a skill I got when I was a girl,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “It helps me track people in my group if we ever get separated. It was easy to pick up the others’ scents, but I think your familiars are masking yours.” Sage’s anxiety grew, her hands fidgeting as she waited for Katherine’s reaction. She hated feeling so vulnerable and uncertain.

  Katherine frowned, trying to remember. “Didn’t you say something about letting the tribe smell us?” she asked, her tone cautious, as if searching for a trick.

  Sage nodded quickly, still shrinking back. “I did. This is just so we can find each other again if we get separated.” Her heart pounded in her chest. She worried she’d made things worse and wished she could disappear.

  A wave of anxiety washed over Sage, her stomach tight with nerves as she waited for Katherine’s answer. She braced herself for rejection or anger, not sure what would come next.

  Katherine’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “So, you want to smell me, to get my scent. So you can track me?” she asked, her tone even but her skepticism clear. Sage could feel Katherine’s strength and wariness, and it made her want to back away.

  “I won’t use it unless it’s really needed,” Sage promised, her voice rising with panic. “It’s just better to be prepared than not—” She stopped herself, afraid she was talking too much.

  Katherine cut her off, not unkind but firm. “I get the idea better than you might think,” she said, her tone direct but not mean. “Go ahead. Just—no biting, and don’t make it weird.” Her words were blunt, but Sage could tell there was no real anger behind them.

  Relief flooded through Sage, and she had to stop herself from letting out a shaky breath. She glanced away, grateful Katherine hadn’t refused or lashed out.

  Sage did her best to be quick, but Katherine’s scent was difficult to pin down. Katherine didn’t smell like an ordinary person. Instead, her scent was strange and layered—like the hidden corners of a room you shouldn’t stare into, the heavy air before a thunderstorm, the crackle of lightning, a dream that lingered just out of reach, and a sterile coldness untouched by civilization. The last scent hit Sage hardest: blood and raw violence, something so primal it made her mouth water. The urge to challenge it, to prove herself, surged up fiercely.

  Before she could get lost in her instincts, Sage pulled back quickly, forcing herself to focus on the present rather than the wild hunger inside her.

  “Got it?” Katherine asked, watching as Sage brought a jar of dried herbs to her nose and breathed in, grounding herself with the familiar scent.

  Sage glanced up at the faint, semitransparent screen only she could see. Thankfully, Katherine couldn’t read it—and Sage was grateful for that small mercy.

  [Skill] Familiar Scent has failed.

  Try making the connection again later or trying with a new scent.

  “No,” Sage admitted quickly, fidgeting and avoiding Katherine’s gaze. “I… um, I don’t want to smell you again. You don’t smell normal.”

  Katherine arched an eyebrow, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “You mean I don’t smell like a regular human?”

  Sage shifted her weight, cheeks coloring. “I, um, can still smell the grotuba Seda ate two days ago… It’s kind of strong. But you—you smell like all these different affinities, almost like you’re not just one thing.”

  Katherine’s eyes sparkled with a touch of amusement. “But…?”

  Sage ducked her head, voice barely above a whisper. “For our safety, I’d rather not do that again unless I absolutely have to.”

  A flicker of concern crossed Katherine’s face as she considered the unspoken risks. She thought of Luna and Shade—if anything happened involving Sage, she could imagine them turning on the healer, even if it was unintentional.

  “What is grotuba?” Katherine asked, her tone curious but guarded.

  After six months in this world, Katherine had tried a lot of new foods and even attempted cooking some of them, but “grotuba” wasn’t ringing any bells.

  “Spider legs that are boiled, then fried and drizzled with a spicy sauce,” Sage explained, trying to sound casual. “It’s really common in places with a lot of forests.”

  Katherine’s eyebrows shot up and she gave a half-laugh, half-groan. “Please tell me these spiders aren’t the size of dogs…”

  Sage hesitated. “The smaller ones can be about the size of an adult person. Why?” She stopped, noticing how Katherine’s face had paled. “Katherine, are you alright?”

  …

  Not long after, Shade, Luna, and Sparky gathered close to Katherine, concern etched on their faces. The gentle crackle of the fire mingled with the rustle of leaves overhead, but a subtle shift in Katherine’s aura had caught their attention—a ripple of anxiety from her lingering arachnophobia, something none of them had known before. The night air, tinged with the earthy scent of damp moss and woodsmoke, seemed to amplify the moment as the group subtly checked on her well-being.

  Katherine sat cross-legged near the campfire, shadows dancing across her face, the flames flickering low and stubborn. She listened to the rhythmic popping of sap in the wood as she nudged a new log onto the glowing embers, sending a shower of sparks swirling briefly into the cool night. Despite the fire’s waning energy, her careful tending coaxed it to life, and the circle of warmth held back the chill and darkness pressing in around them. The smoky aroma clung to her clothes and hair, grounding her in the present.

  A quiet pause settled as Katherine stared into the flames, feeling the presence behind her. Without turning, she murmured, “I can feel you staring. Come on out, Luna.” Her voice was steady, colored by the comfort of the fire and the shared silence of the night.

  Luna crept closer, the soft pad of her paws barely audible on the leaf-strewn ground. She settled beside Katherine, then gently laid her head in Katherine’s lap, her fur warm against the cool night. Why do you trust the hidden one? Luna’s question echoed in Katherine’s mind, her telepathic tone tinged with uncertainty.

  Katherine let her fingers drift through Luna’s fur, her thoughts matching Luna’s telepathic words. You know I don’t. Trust is earned, she responded gently, still unsure why Luna bristled so much at Sage’s presence. Why do you not trust her? She is here to take a test, like we are.

  Luna’s chest rumbled with a low chuff before she purred softly as Katherine kneaded the tension from her shoulders. The firelight reflected in Luna’s eyes, casting fleeting patterns on the ground. She smells like the wild ones. They are to be trusted less than other people. The wild ones are in between. Not like you, not like me. She will kill again and I will protect, Luna said, her mental voice filled with fierce loyalty and a hint of warning.

  Katherine smiled softly, her admiration mingled with gentle reproach. I appreciate it, but I don’t need your protection, Luna, she affirmed, the warmth of the fire and Luna’s affection softening her words.

  Luna’s tail flicked, brushing Katherine’s knee. My mate not hunting tells me otherwise, Luna pointed out, a glint of concern in her eyes as the fire crackled on.

  Just as Katherine was about to reply, a sudden groan sliced through the night. The harmonious sounds of fire and forest were broken by Edwin, the other frontliner, shifting noisily in his sleep. His snoring quickly escalated, echoing through the camp like a buzzsaw caught in a bear’s growl, drawing a shared glance of exasperation from Katherine and Luna.

  Katherine stifled a laugh, her smile visible in the firelight. There goes our sleep, she joked to Luna, finding comfort in humor as the night pressed on and the flames danced higher with her careful tending.

  …

  “You brought all of this to a guild entrance test?” asked the proctor, still a bit groggy.

  “Yes and no,” Katherine admitted, shifting deftly between skillets as she sautéed veggies and mushrooms, stirring with practiced movements to keep them from burning. “I brought them for the trip to and from. Since the guild made the trip shorter than expected, I’ll still use what I brought. I’ve tasted the guild rations before, and I wouldn’t recommend them even to prisoners of war—which should tell you something.”

  Edwin looked at her pack, which seemed far too small to hold everything she was using. “Where did you keep all this?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Edwin blinked in disbelief, trying to process the impossibility of her answer, momentarily at a loss for words.

  “Trick of the trade,” was all Katherine would offer, as she pulled a stack of plates and utensils from her bracelet—her band of the unseen legion, a relic rumored to hold endless supplies. “Alright, we’ve got scrambled shrubbird eggs with sautéed mushrooms and veggies, along with dire sausage. Yes, I checked—this isn’t Dire Panther meat. Sage, I noticed you have an aversion to meat; if you don’t eat eggs, I’ve got some sugar and berry oatmeal on the side.”

  They realized Katherine probably stored nonessentials and cookable food in her bracelet, keeping a bag of nuts and dried berries like the night before for quick snacks or times when cooking wasn’t an option.

  Shade and Luna, already eating from their bowl of raw meat and powdered mana crystals, perked up at the mention of their kind. Only then did they realize they’d made a poorly executed joke, sharing an awkward glance before returning to their meal. Shade waited for Luna to start eating again before he joined in. Katherine whistled to get Sparky’s attention for his breakfast. He came gliding down from a tree where he’d spent the night perched on a branch, his scales a bit duller, likely from molting. Sparky tried to fly off with a sausage, but it was still too heavy for his wings to carry alongside his body.

  “Alright, where did you learn to cook?” the proctor asked.

  “My folks taught me growing up,” Katherine replied between bites of sausage. “As for the local ingredients, I learned from where I work.”

  “You’re a chef?” Edwin asked, curiosity piqued.

  “Apprentice Beast Master, actually,” Katherine corrected with a small smile. “The place I work gives me three hots and a cot. The people I live with have taught me a few things.” she looked around at everyone. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

  …

  An arrow pierced the flabby hide of the strange monster that had recently been seen near the tribes. The tribes initially planned to wear it down through attrition, but since the aspiring adventurers needed experience, the tribes decided to let them handle the monster, despite protests from many tribe members.

  The group was told the monster might be a colony of mossflabs—a creature known for hiding in tree canopies and using excessive folds of skin, which Katherine thought resembled the face huggers from the alien movies. These mossflabs, about chest-sized when stretched out, could infect their victims with parasites. The thought made Katherine uneasy; she couldn’t help but imagine herself as their next target.

  However, they soon discovered these were not mossflabs but fleshdrifters—the far more terrifying relatives. While fleshdrifters also had sagging skin and carried parasites, their size was on another level, each one as large as a small van. During the fight, Edwin tried to cut the strand that injected parasites, just as it targeted one of the proctors who’d wandered too close. He managed only to knock it away, but fortunately, the proctor took the hint and retreated.

  Katherine landed a thunderous punch against the monster’s side, doing her best to stay safely away from its reach. The attack seemed to have little effect, and she felt a pang of frustration and fear. After Shade quickly told Luna to leave—for reasons Katherine didn’t have time to consider—Katherine took a moment to assess the situation, glancing around at the clustered trees and dense foliage that hemmed them in.

  Knowing they might need more help, Katherine decided to use a skill she had been holding back, or at least an added effect she’d never tried before. “Everyone be careful, I’m going to try and call for more support!” she shouted, as she noticed one of the proctors casting an enhancement spell on Devrin. She curled her lips and whistled sharply, her heart pounding with both nervousness and hope.

  Five aura pulses shot outward, cutting through the tense air. Meanwhile, unexpected noises came from Sage’s direction; Sage had hunched over, making low grunts and growls. Katherine’s anxiety spiked—she wondered what was happening to her friend and whether backup would arrive in time.

  …

  No, no, no, not now, Sage told herself. She knew she was in a high-risk, high-stress situation—which wasn’t exactly ideal for working on her confidence, despite what her alchemy instructor had sarcastically recommended. In hindsight, she desperately hoped it had all been a misunderstanding.

  Whatever Katherine’s skill was doing, Sage could feel it gnawing at her control, making it even harder than usual to hold herself together. The pressure of keeping the team alive was bad enough, but now Katherine’s ability was provoking the side of Sage she tried hardest to suppress—the side that wanted nothing more than to be let loose. She found herself involuntarily barking and growling between castings, each spell and skill only intensifying the struggle within.

  Suddenly, the forest floor trembled beneath her feet, sending a jolt of fear up her spine as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Sage glanced over her shoulder and instantly regretted it. “DRAAAKE!” she shouted, scrambling aside and hoping the others had heard her warning.

  Sparky chirped from a safe distance, hurling arcs of energy at the fleshdrifter, clearly alerted by Sage’s cry. Shade, hearing the commotion, leaped into the shadows and planted himself between Luna and the threat, turning his head to growl at her—a clear signal for Luna to leave.

  It wasn’t until the drake’s eyeless, battering-ram head slammed full force into the fleshdrifter that the chaos truly erupted.

  “How the fuck did that get here?” Devrin shouted, nearly tumbling out of his perch as the drake’s collision with the fleshdrifter rocked the tree he was in.

  The team instinctively backed away as the drake, using its stubby claws, began tearing at the fleshdrifter—finally making a real dent in the monstrous foe by biting and ripping into its flesh.

  After the team regrouped, Edwin stared at Katherine in disbelief. “How did you get a drake?” he asked.

  Katherine shook her head, still stunned. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting that,” she admitted. “I’ve only ever used that call to bring Shade and Luna closer—usually, it’s easy because of our connection. The main feature is my familiars act as a beacon, calling others to help them. If I’d known it would summon a drake, I never would have tried it.”

  Sage, fists clenched, tried to steady her breathing and appear normal. Someone called out, “Sage, are you okay?” but she could barely hear them over the pounding in her ears.

  …

  Katherine had kept a watchful eye on each team member whenever possible, especially Sage, whose behavior had grown increasingly strange since the battle began. When Katherine triggered the call of the hunt skill, she felt an unexpected surge of aura ripple through the group, intensifying her concern. Sage, usually meek and hesitant, now seemed tense and withdrawn, almost as if she was fighting something within herself.

  Now, as the team rallied and regrouped, Katherine noticed an unmistakable change in Sage. She looked like she was barely holding herself together—her jaw clenched, a blood vessel pulsing visibly in her temple and neck, and her eyes had shifted in color, the right deepening to a shadowy green and the left a muted yellow. It was a stark contrast to the gentle healer Katherine had come to know.

  “Sage, are you okay?” Katherine asked, her voice low but edged with worry as she glanced over at the healer. Had Sage been infected with the parasites, or was something else at play? Unsure what else to do, Katherine scanned the area for anything familiar to Sage, recalling a moment from earlier in their journey when Sage had relaxed after inhaling the scent of dried herbs. She remembered how the subtle aroma had seemed to calm Sage, easing the tension in her shoulders. Spotting a flower that resembled those herbs among the underbrush, Katherine hesitated for a heartbeat before moving around Sage and gently plucking it. She offered the bloom, holding it close to Sage’s nose. “Focus on this, breathe,” Katherine said, her tone soft but insistent, hoping the familiar scent would ground Sage. It was one of the few things she truly knew about Sage, besides her fluency in the strange language of Moontongue.

  To Katherine’s relief, Sage listened, drawing a deep breath of the flower’s scent. Gradually, her eyes faded back to their brighter, original shades. Katherine let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, grateful for the small victory. She understood how dire things could get without a corpsman, and seeing Sage return to herself was a reassuring sign for the group.

  Unfortunately, just as relief swept through the team, the drake finished off the fleshdrifter with a final, savage bite. Its massive form lumbered closer, each step sending tremors through the ground. Shade immediately tensed, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his claws extended instinctively, ready to defend the group. Katherine’s heart pounded as the drake approached, its scales glinting in the dim light filtering through the trees. She hesitated, uncertain whether the creature would attack or simply observe them. The drake halted just within reach, lowering itself beside Katherine—its demeanor ambiguous, perhaps awaiting a new command or a fresh target. Realizing her ‘Call of the Hunt’ skill was still active and might inadvertently draw more attention, Katherine hurriedly deactivated it, hoping to regain control over the unpredictable situation.

  The drake remained still, save for lifting its head and slowly scanning the surroundings—a tense silence settling over the clearing as everyone waited to see what it would do next.

  Sparky, clearly displeased with the drake’s lingering presence, let his irritation echo in Katherine’s mind with his childlike but forceful voice: Move along four legs, no wings. He emphasized his statement with an unusually powerful arc of lightning from his mouth, striking the drake’s forehead—it was almost as if he was staking his territory. The crackle of energy and sharp scent of ozone filled the air, making everyone flinch as the lightning struck.

  The drake responded with a guttural sound, somewhere between a grunt and a moan, its body rippling with tension. It slowly rose, turning away from the group and retreating into the shadows, acknowledging Sparky’s dominance and accepting its place in the pecking order.

  As the danger passed, Katherine felt a mix of relief and lingering unease. Her ‘Monster Lore’ skill flickered to life in her mind, informing her of the rigid hierarchy among draconic creatures like Sparky and the drake. Sparky, though still a hatchling, held a superior rank in their pecking order. There were also rules among affinities and elemental bonds, but the nuances remained a mystery to Katherine, even with the skill’s guidance.

  Once the dust settled and there were no more monsters—ally or enemy—the group began the trek back to the tribal camp, eager to present proof of a successful hunt. Though outsiders couldn’t join the tribe’s fires, they found a spot nearby to set up their own camp, close enough for comfort but still apart.

  Katherine unfolded a small table and started preparing dinner as the sun dipped lower behind the trees. She kneaded herbs and spices into a mixture of ground crystal deer and prism boar meat, hands moving with practiced ease. She was attempting to make venison burgers while using her illusion affinity to play music from Earth in her mind as she worked. The melody remained in her head, careful not to let it spill over for the others—her assessment group wouldn’t recognize the tunes anyway. Katherine glanced up with a faint smile.

  Sage watched her intently, wringing her hands. Sage’s voice trembled as she finally spoke, “How did you do that?” She sounded timid, her usual meekness coloring every word.

  Katherine looked over at Sage, pausing to turn down the music inside her own mind. She formed a hand-sized portion of the meat into a patty. “Do what?” she asked, her tone gentle but curious.

  Sage hesitated, her gaze flickering to the trees. She pressed her lips together before speaking again, the words barely above a whisper. “Make the forest come alive like that. After you used that skill that called the drake… I could feel the forest fighting itself, wanting to join you. It… it was unsettling.” Sage’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table, betraying her lingering anxiety.

  Katherine nodded, her hands still busy shaping patties but her voice dropping softer. “I can imagine,” she said, offering a sympathetic glance. Unsure how much she should reveal, she spoke quietly, “Especially since you’re not an elf.”

  Sage stiffened as the words sank in, her face draining of color. Katherine had noticed the subtle change in Sage’s ears that morning—tapered and slightly elongated. Katherine gave a small, knowing nod. “Thought so,” she murmured, voice matter-of-fact but gentle.

  Sage lowered her gaze, a flush of shame creeping across her cheeks. “How long have you known?” she asked, her voice tight with embarrassment.

  Katherine smirked as she reached for the grill plate, setting it over the fire with a quiet confidence. “You just told me,” she replied, her tone light and reassuring. “I don’t know exactly what you are, and honestly, I don’t care. Just as long as you’re still yourself.”