“What the actual–” Meen-Tra shoved Ren in the chest, cutting him off – his eyes narrowed, and she leveled a finger at him, “Not one more word from you. I know exactly where we are.”

  All around them, mist swirled as they hovered over a lake, its edges obscured by tree and reed. Water lilies drifted below them, and the sounds of rushing water filled the air.

  Ren stared at Meen-Tra over crossed arms, “We’re lost, and it's your fault–”

  Meen-Tra stared at Ren, also with crossed arms, “It is not my–”

  Ren continued, “Also – what's with the water – it’s so noisy, I’m new to the area, but aren’t swamps usually full of still water?”

  Meen-Tra’s eyes un-narrowed, and she looked around, before turning back on Ren, her eyes re-narrowing, “The giant worm, it's digging tunnels all over the Mire – causing overflow, which leads to a cascading effect.”

  Ren’s eyes crossed, “Right – you seem to know a lot about this stuff, are you like a geographer?” Ren asked, a smug look on his face.

  Meen-Tra leaned back in her stance, returning the look, “What's a geographer, REN?”

  Ren paused, his eyes flicking to the side, “They’re a – they make magazines about nature!” Ren finished with a proud nod.

  A voice in Ren’s ear, “We’re on the move, everyone's ok.”

  Ren placed a hand to his ear, turning away from Meen-Tra, patently ignoring her. “Who is this again?” He asked, while swirling his finger in the mist, Meen-Tra gritted her teeth.

  “Pat – Yoo, what's good? You're with DG…Uh-huh, fire. Yeah, yeah, yeah, for sure – I’ll let her know. We’ll be there soon, it’s just that someone–

  A physical weight bore down on Ren, pushing his feet into the water. He looked over his shoulder at Meen-Tra, who was glaring at him so hard, he thought her eyebrows might stitch together.

  “We’re running a little late.

  Ren paused for a moment, then finished all in a rush.

  “It’s all Meen-Tra’s fault, love you bye.”

  Ren started to turn around, an innocent smile on his face, before Meen-Tra’s shoulder took him in the gut, doubling him over, and sending them both splashing into the water.

  As Ren came up for air, spluttering and coughing, Meen-Tra climbed him like a tree – pressing her chest into his face while shoving him back underwater. She kicked off his sinking form before doing a backstroke to the near shore.

  Before she could get very far, something wrapped around her toe – not her foot, or toes, but just her big toe – her eyes shot wide, before she was yanked underwater.

  A moment later, Ren rocketed up, landing on the surface of the water, where he casually – quick stepped to the bank.

  Meen-Tra soon followed, and as she stood up, her feet squishing in the mud – Ren noticed the water streaming in rivulets from her dress, like the feathers of a duck. “That material is epic. What is it?”

  Meen-Tra rolled out her neck. She ran her hands across her arms. Rung out her hair. And casually swiped the back of her hands across her thighs. “Cutasilk.”

  Ren nodded, “Nice – could I get some, a waterproof hoodie would be–”

  Meen-Tra flicked her foot, spraying mud across Rens' face. He slowly opened one eye, the other covered in mud, before wiping his face with a sopping wet hood.

  Ren rolled out his neck, cracked his knuckles, squared his stance, and threw a few switches while scratching a record – his decks shimmered into existence.

  Meen-Tra raised an eyebrow, arms akimbo, one foot forward – daring him to–

  A tear in reality opened up, Ren’s hair flailed like snakes reaching up to the mists, and his eyes glowed a toxic green – perfectly matching his sandals.

  A slow rhythm pulsed from Ren, soothing and carefree. Meen-Tra’s curiosity was piqued, and her guard let down.

  Ren touched two fingers to the side of his head. His legs pumped. His head swayed. The rhythm increased. Electronic trumpets chimed. Strings twanged. The tip of a note emerged. The tempo increased. Meen-Tra crossed her arms, her eyes moved around the bog. The head of the note swelled from the tear, looking down on Meen-Tra. Water stopped rushing. Reeds were still, and water lilies paused. The note was halfway free; the tear in reality widened. Meen-Tra gulped as Ren – eyes closed, existed in another place.

  “R-ren – w-what are you doing?” Meen-Tra took a step back, extending open fists towards Ren.

  Music filled the air. It came from all directions. Meen-Tra’s hair began to blow as an artificial wind swept across the area. The note fully emerged, stood twice as tall as Meen-Tra, and hovered in the air between them, as the music came to a crescendo.

  Ren’s eyes snapped open, startling Meen-Tra, who was now dramatically waving her arms. Ren slapped his hands together, pointing at the bog–

  “[Bombastic Base Drop]!”

  His decks winked out, the bass dropped, as his projectile slapped into the mud. The combined force of the sound waves and the construct created a wave of mud, muck, and rot that rolled up and loomed over Meen-Tra like a vatagand.

  Meen-Tra stood still. Arms at her side. She looked up. And up. Ren raised his hands to the air in a Y, as his head dropped, his hair falling around his face – the wave of muck crashed down on Meen-Tra, like a force of nature.

  DG-Pat cut off the comms, still hovering over the barn teeming with shamblers. Something bothered them. So they stayed behind, watching, as the others escaped on lizardback.

  “I can see it too, DG. Barely visible threads – linking them all together, I didn’t notice before, but I think it’s getting stronger.”

  Without warning, the shamblers peeled away from the barn – vine and limb unwound, shrinking, tearing away chunks of barn as stuck thorns were torn free.

  DG-Pat watched in horror as shamblers turned to one another – embracing like lost lovers – their forms merging, doubling. The process repeated – until a single sharp crack cut through the night air. A head poked free from the top of the bar, in a shower of plank and foliage.

  The head turned and Eye pits, like windows to the abyss, focused on DG-Pat. The flyer scooted back.

  The barn exploded as the creature stepped toward DG-Pat. The remaining shambler joined it, and the two colossal figures lumbered forward.

  DG-Pat spun around and zoomed after their retreating companions. “Uhm, team – teeeam – we have a problem.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Ren raced through the Mire, gliding across vast swampland, running under titan roots that emerged and hung like freeways across his path, while dodging angry critters and avoiding mire-spider webs, whose nets hid in the swirling mists.

  His breathing was rhythmic, and his mind was focused. He strained against his limits, refusing to give in.

  Meen-Tra rested her head on Ren’s shoulders, fast asleep, as he carried her on his back. After Ren had buried her under a tsunami of muck – he’d felt a little guilty. So he’d offered her a piggyback ride. After trying to explain what a pig was, they determined a fengrub was the closest approximation the Mire had to a pig.

  This led Ren to realize that he, in fact, had no idea why it was called a piggyback ride. So he’d simply squatted down and pointed to his back. Meen-Tra had let out a squeal of delight, exclaiming her love of mander-rides, and was he sure he didn’t mind.

  That had been hours ago, and as she now snored peacefully, drool dribbling from the corner of her mouth.

  At first, she’d attempted to choke the life out of him. Ren had explained his connection with DG, indicating he knew which direction the little flyer was in. He supposed her reaction wasn’t wholly unwarranted.

  But in the end, she’d worn herself out, and Ren had survived the endeavor. He felt a sense of calm washing over him. The Mire was a peaceful place, especially for Ren, as he could move freely across the treacherous terrain.

  A bear appeared in front of Ren, a sleepy bear, if their overhead stretch and toothy yawn were any indication. Alyndra’s position remained constant as Ren raced along.

  She flopped onto her belly, her four paws sprawled out, chin resting on the air – opening and closing her mouth, testing the air.

  Ren waved and smiled, “Yoo – what's good. Alyndra right? Thanks for the advice last time – I have no idea how long I’d have been stuck.

  Run thumbed over his shoulder.

  “I was able to spot this one after listening to you talk about perspective. She shone like a beacon in the night – I just had to know what I was looking for.”

  “Meen-Tra is special…she is destined for great things – if she would stop fighting it.” Said Alyndra through heavy eyelids.

  Ren gave her a knowing look, “Mommy issues.”

  Alyndra smiled, “That’s one way of putting it.

  The lazy bear rolled over onto her back, her head tipped back, and her tongue lolled out.

  “Garzha has many secrets, and I fear she’ll never get to tell her daughter – everything.

  Alyndra flexed her paws to the mists, splaying out her digits and displaying impressive claws.

  “Trust in her and support her, she will need it – if she is to succeed.”

  Alyndra vanished like a dream, leaving Ren to stare at the treeline, while Meen-Tra somehow slept comfortably through it all.

  Ren didn’t know what to think. The message felt final, and he didn’t like the idea of being forced in an unknown direction.

  Ren picked up his speed; he needed to reach his friends – sooner rather than later.

  Draven was pretty sure they were going to die, but Mitzy seemed at ease, so he steeled his nerves and kept his attention on the road ahead. The shamblers on their tail could have easily overtaken them, if not for their stopping to thrash buildings and consume crops – probably for their mana.

  The other colossus moved in their direction, visible on the horizon, as they towered above the cities and villages that dotted the plateau.

  Draven looked over at Hecate, who rode beside him. The grizzled orc wore a look of determination as his lizard pounded the dirt, the beast's shoulder muscles contracting and relaxing like a machine – one of mass and flesh, built for endurance and power.

  Nosh and Mog took up the rear, keeping an eye on the wagons full of scared, ragged prisoners. Camo called out, “I need more healing leeches!” He was moving between the carts, treating those with the most serious injuries as best he could. Draven was limited on the number of summons he could have out at one time, and his mana was running low.

  “[Circuleech]. He repeated himself three times before holding his open fist in front of Mitzy. After he didn’t get any response, he nudged her with his wrist, “I’ll never give you my recipe–” she mumbled in her sleep. Draven sighed and closed his fist, bopping her on the head.

  Mitzy’s light knife cracked the air, “Die, you gelatinous–

  Draven lowered his fist, holding out the circuleeches for her. “Huh, oh right – I must have dozed off.”

  She swiped the healing bugs from Draven before crouching down and backflipping up and over his head – landing with a soft thump on the train.

  Beside him, Hecate spoke up, “They will close on us – the way ahead is clear of distractions.” Draven noticed the same thing. “Our only defense will be sharp directional changes – perhaps we can circle them, and gain access to their backside.”

  Draven looked over at Hecate as he pulled a rune-stick from his case. Hecate remained stoic. Draven puffed away, hoping against hope, someone – anyone might save them, or pull these things away.

  Meen-Tra clung tightly to Ren, the warmth of her body pressed softly against his back. She was clearly very comfortable, and he honestly had no idea how she was able to maintain her grip, even as she slept like a rock.

  Ren marveled at his newfound strength; it had increased manifold since waking up at Draven’s. He’d never imagined himself a superhero, but he supposed he was something of the sort. Although, when compared with the strength of a bearkin, or the flight of someone like Churi, maybe he was just normal?

  He realized he didn’t know much, not surprising as he’d been on the Run since entering this world. He’d gotten a few answers, but gained many more questions in return.

  He missed his mom, but that was nothing new. He worried that he would forget her face one day, as he had no pictures of her. He closed his eyes and imagined them together, spinning in the garage – arguing which DJ was the GOAT. He could see her smile, the way her bangs always fell across her face, no matter how tightly bound her hair.

  Meen-Tra stirred from her slumber, smacking her lips together, as she breathed hot air on the back of his neck – goosebumps rippled across his skin, and the tips of his ears turned pink. She rubbed her eyes, sucking up the spit that dribbled. She ground her forehead into Ren’s back as she straightened her legs and flexed her toes up and back.

  “Good morning, sleepy head,” Ren said, his voice full of cheer, thoughts of his mother’s face still fresh on his mind.

  Meen-Tra let out a yawn, “Are we there yet?”

  Ren thought about the message he’d received from Alyndra and whether or not he should fill her in. She hadn’t really given him any information – not directly. Indirectly, he worried for Garzha and Murkspire. He knew people there, including Churi, Thalgor, Mirabella… so many faces.

  “Ren – is everything alright?

  She rested her cheek against his neck.

  “Sorry about how I acted earlier – I’m just worried about the others, I feel responsible.”

  He bit back a sarcastic response, Alyndra’s message fresh in his mind. “No, it's ok – I – I’m sorry too. I don’t tend to take things very seriously. I’m worried about DG and Draven as well.”

  Silence hung in the air between them, as life slowly returned to Meen-Tra. The world blurred by, as Ren’s speed continued to increase, his endurance seemingly without bounds.

  “How about the others? I only know Draven and DG – DG’s changed, they’re stronger. Their soul has melded with a third – I guess, I don’t know, I’m no soul smith – or whatever, Pat only gave me the quick and dirty.” Ren was rambling.

  Meen-Tra lifted her head, her gaze shifting to the way ahead, “I found Pat, with Mitzy, the same way I found you.” She bounced her feet, “These cursed sandals – they weren’t on the outside like you, but lost amongst the Shining Ones.”

  “Shining Ones?” Ren asked.

  “Umm spirits of the swamp? They are the Mire, at least that's what they say. I think it’s just a children's tale to keep people from climbing into the sky, or wandering off into the borders.” She mused.

  “Was finding me really your first time outside the swamp?” Meen-Tra nodded, “Yes – was all that blue – I guess that's the real sky? Garzha used to tell me stories. Kings and Queens, Dragons and Knights on horseback. Silly things, children’s tales.”

  Ren smiled, “Yes, children’s tales. So when are we going back out?”

  Meen-Tra sat up, a look of worry on her face, “Back out where?”

  Ren laughed, “Outside, of course – surely you want to see–”

  Rain fell from the sky, splattering the two of them. It stopped after a single shower. Again, rain fell. Ren looked around, noticing trembling leaves and vines. It wasn’t raining; the foliage around them shook, showering them with dew drops.

  Ren could see the tree line ending ahead, light streaming down from a clearing in the Mire. The ground gently sloped upwards as they approached the zone line.

  The air changed from one step to the next, from hot and damp to warm and dry. He held up his arm to block the brighter swamplight as his eyes adjusted.

  The ground shook again, as Ren and Meen-Tra stood just inside the zone line. Meen-Tra bounced her legs, and Ren let her down. He stretched out his arms and bent over at the waist, touching his toes, while flexing his hips. “What do you suppose that shaking is? I haven’t heard anything from Pat.

  Ren grabbed his toes and straightened his legs, really leaning into the stretch. The ground shook again.

  “Meen-Tra – Meen-Tra, what do you think–”

  Meen-Tra kicked him in the behind, “Hey, what gives – I thought we called a tru–”

  Ren looked up as he caught his balance, his eyes fully adjusted.

  The first thing he noticed was that they were in a vast, open space, slightly raised, but still well below the living mountains that were titan trees—the second thing he noticed was the half dozen grass sentinels, smashing aside structures and stomping villages.

  Pat’s voice interrupted his wonder, “Ren – Ren, where are you – we’re out of time!”