Although the group continued its journey forward with mid-battle banter, Anemone struggled to keep her breath steady. Back and forth, her body jerked. The slightest sound had her trigger finger over her grimoire, ready to draw her weapons. Her hands practically twisted into her gambeson as she clenched her chest. Anemone’s eyes bounced around everyone and the forest. It wasn’t just the nearly constant barrage of insecta coming at them, but a distinct sensation gnawed at her gut. As everyone spoke, her gut wanted to empty itself constantly, even if there was nothing in it. Even when she listened to them, she didn’t know how to keep up with the conversation. At times, her ears would disregard their noise and latch onto unfamiliar sounds.

  In contrast to everyone else who still seemed to stroll along, Anemone was the only one so uneasy. She had lost count of the number of times a sigh escaped from her chest from hearing rustling bushes being an empty threat. The relaxation of her muscles would only last a second before fading. Fading into the ferocity of her heart, punching the back of her throat moments later. Her elbows pressed into her sides, shrinking her body as small as possible. As a voice popped into her ear, Anemone almost leaped out of her skin.

  “Staying close is fine and all, but even I like my breathing room,” said Rowan.

  Sweat dripped down her brow as her voice shrank to a whisper.

  “Sorry, you’re right!” Anemone shook her head. “But don’t worry, I’m just trying to keep you guarded.”

  “Sure…whatever keeps you steady. ~,” he said. “Also, don’t use too much Synergist-Ars. You’ll burn out too fast.”

  “Burnout here? You must be daft… Keep him safe??? Lauma, I must be daft! I can’t even protect myself…”

  Anemone had not even realized she was next to Rowan the whole time. With a sigh, Anemone ran her fingers through her hair, pulling at her roots. The mere sound of his remark about their proximity sent shivers down her spine. Despite Anemone’s eagerness, Aronia had taken a forward position, mostly acting as a scout. Both during and after the assaults, there was no one else to cling to. Adding insult to injury, staying back and raising everyone else’s physical abilities was all she had done. Anemone folded her arms across her body, fighting the urge to crawl into a ball.

  “Wave after wave! I. CANNOT. DO THIS! Spriggan, you liar! THIS IS NOT FUN AT ALL!” she huffed. “Reckless is an understatement… Useless is more like it.”

  ‘That was reckless’, echoed into her mind. Anemone rocked her head and jabbed her fingers into her arms. She didn’t want to agree with Rubus calling her reckless. Even during their battles, those words bounced around her mind, unable to disappear. Thinking about her fall earlier, Anemone dropped her shoulders. Now that the waves had slowed, her body ached and dragged itself with every step. The whole time they were fighting, she had done her best not to think about it, but now her mind caught up with her.

  Spriggan had told her it would be rough in the Wilds. But this? This was nowhere near as joyous as his stories made it out to be. His youthful adventuring tales always had this sense of glee. With every story, smiles and exaggerated gestures filled every moment. Now that she’s experienced it, she curses every story he ever told. Anemone gripped her arm.

  “Had Timber not covered for me, would I still be okay? Muspell, even Rowan had to heal me after my arm got gnawed on.”

  Anemone dropped onto the floor and curled into a ball behind a tree. From behind the tree, her eyes darted at Rowan and Timber. After rolling her eyes, she slammed her face into her palms and shook her head vigorously.

  “LAUMA, I don’t even want to think about the group with two pincer beetles and five Vespula! That was even worse than the sickle-clawed mantodean fighting each other!”

  She kept replaying the moment she fell off the second Vespula during their first encounter. There was still enough time to cast Gladius-Ars on her legs to survive the damage of the fall, but her body had frozen. After that, they battled a variety of other insecta. There was an enormous armored Insecta that almost crushed her between its pincers. If she did not have two random shields stored in her grimoire, there was no way she would have lasted. With how many times she almost got caught by something, things could end up like before: the night the gallu-lycan almost took a bite out of her. No matter how much Anemone tried not to think about it, she saw that scene. Her knees shook, and she pounded them with her fists.

  “Everything has been horrible since we started! I tense up and can’t cast anything! And they keep covering for me! It’s all been downhill since then!”

  Another armored Insecta had a single horn so thick that it burrowed holes in trees that they rammed into. When Anemone dropped her head back onto her knees, she remembered in another wave how she dashed around trying to avoid that beetle. While she ran around, she almost led it into Rowan. Fortunately for her, he is quite nimble and squirmed around. Then, Anemone placed her hands over her throat and gulped. There was one that looked as if they were praying for the meal (everyone) before them. Its long-bladed limbs had almost taken her head. A cough left her throat, and she choked from how dry her mouth was.

  “Losing my neck might have been a grace sent from the heavens…” her mind whispered. “That way I don’t have to be here anymore…”

  The evening sunlight shone into her eyes, peering through the foliage from above. As she raised her head, the glowing orange ball set. She dropped her gaze from the sun-dripped sky to her tattered uniform. Tears and slits ran across her coat, revealing the thick, long-sleeved shirt she wore underneath. She saw the same thing when she stared at her teammates. They, too, had threadbare clothes covered in blood and overgrown Insecta guts. Anemone looked around, and others had stopped as well. She rubbed the welts on her hands as she did her best to hide her staggered breaths. Almost no one could stand up straight.

  Timber stood slightly slumped over with his arm firmly stretched into a nearby tree that Rubus sat by. Meanwhile, Aronia and Rowan sat on the forest floor, leaning on each other to sit up straight. Although Anemone could still move, every time she did, a pain shot through her limbs. Even though they had managed multiple small groups of Vespula and other insecta, the team was almost out of breath.

  “The Great Freeze is around the corner,” said Aronia. “Insecta should either be dying off, dormant, or in diapause… especially Vespula.”

  “Do you think it has something to do with increased gallu attacks? I always heard TirNog was a sort of last bastion, like Albion. But ever since we’ve been here, the barrier has been under constant duress.” Claimed Timber.

  “I wish I could tell yoo. Then again, this sounds like an opportunity… The perfect opportunity for yours truly!” A glint grew in Aronia’s eyes.

  “Hey! Screw the barrier! WE are struggling here!” Rowan complained. “And right NOW! I don’t think a research project…in the middle of a death trap…is much of an opportunity.”

  “In all seriousness, I prefer Albion’s ecosystem. Mammalia and Reptilia are in no way this persistent,” grumbled Rubus.

  “Seriously!” Rowan threw his arms up. “And why the MUSPELL are these bastards doing friggen diversions and cornering us against trees!? What kinda lycan level shit is this?!”

  “Agreed,” Timber added. “Letting a single one live made it seem as if they were communicating to the next wave how we fought.”

  The forest, much like Anemone, had been rather silent for about ten minutes since their last encounter. She simply nodded as everyone spoke, but said nothing. Even if their constant run-in with multiple swarms of Yellow-jackets were strange, there was nothing worth adding to the unfolding discussion. Aronia was right. During the autumnal period, days shrank as nights grew cold. That usually forces most diurnal Insecta to turn in early. It was already sunset, and they had now run into their eighth wave of Yellow-jackets, yet they saw no hive. The last two groups they had just finished had some beetles as well.

  Swarms smart enough to cause a diversion with a pincer tactic from behind and in front? It was madness. Every time the horde regrouped with another half, they adjusted. They were not only fighting with tactics but also learning. In the distance, she could hear the rest of her team still talking, and all she could do was groan.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “So, I know we are all tired. But! I’d like to say, Rubus, I told you so,” Rowan said.

  “Fine, I owe you.” Rubus exhaled. “But when did you have time to find an insecta that used Ars?”

  “Y’know, time shenanigans,” said Rowan. “But in all seriousness… I went for a walk and came across one that blocked a spell I let off. Total shocker.”

  Anemone turned around to look at Rowan from behind her tree. With a cracking, shrill voice, she yelled while grimacing.

  “Time shenanigans!? WHAT does that even mean!?” Anemone gasped.

  “Honestly, you wouldn’t believe me if I explained it.” Rowan hollered back.

  “Are you saying that it was a pure chance this happened!? And you didn’t tell anyone else?” Aronia asked as she pushed her back onto his back.

  Rowan groaned, “Oi, back me up here, you two.”

  “No, she makes a valid point,” said Timber. “However, we didn’t believe him either.”

  “Let’s just ignore the why and how, for now,” Rubus said. “We have to stay ready in case more come back.”

  Rowan flailed about.

  “I say we call it a day! We’ve been at this for hours!”

  Rowan rolled away from Aronia, and she fell flat on her back. After rubbing her head, she stood up and raised her hand to her ear. Everyone had their weapons raised and ready. Everyone except Rowan, who continued to lie flat on the ground. They all slowed their breaths, listening to the silence of the wind blowing through the woods. The only thing they heard was the hooting of biyrds in passing. When another horde did not return as fast, even Timber’s trademark stonewall expression smirked. Faint smiles grew across their faces, and it was like his expression stood for the group’s collective sighs. Anemone disbelievingly shook her head at what she had heard.

  “How am I supposed to ignore Insecta using Ars? That’s unheard of. Time shenanigans? What even is that? WHY AM I OUT HERE!?!?! Maybe Titania was right to send me off. Who am I kidding!? Night creatures with Ars are far more dangerous. Not to mention the Unseelie.”

  Anemone jumped to her feet and took a step back toward the way they came, but halted. Beyond the sea of trees, only darkness met her gaze, stretching to the distant horizon. A chill ran down her spine as her gaze met its glare. The sun was setting, and there were far more terrors that roamed the night.

  “Just great…” she mumbled. “It took us an entire half a day to get here…and that was with them. Even if I tried, I would never make it back by myself.”

  Instead of heading home, she dragged her feet to her team instead. There was fauna that resisted some Ars, but insecta? Casting a barrier? Unseen. While observing Aronia, Anemone noticed her perusing an Entomology Compendium. And judging from how Aronia was scratching her head, Anemone was certain she would find nothing on insecta casting Ars. Nothing but um, ah, grunts and huffs of warm air left Aronia’s mouth as she flipped through pages at a breakneck speed. As Anemone kept walking, she tripped over something and yelped. Everyone’s eyes locked onto her, and she chuckled nervously.

  “For Lauma’s sake, Wingless. We’re all on edge,” Rubus palmed his face.

  “Oh, SHUT UP! You think I tripped on purpose?!?”

  A gust of wind flashed past Anemone, and Aronia crouched right next to her. Anemone rose to her knees and observed Aronia inspecting the remains of one of the Vespula. Upon closer examination, she identified a peculiar film on its thorax. It resembled a mold, but it wasn’t any she had seen before.

  “How did I not see that before?” questioned Anemone.

  “I don’t know either, but I had a thought!” Aronia opened her hand. “Hand me one of your knives.”

  Anemone complied and handed over a blade. Aronia withdrew a mask and gloves from her grimoire and put them on. After handing a pair to Anemone as well, they began dissecting the Vespula. As Aronia removed the thorax, Anemone saw strange markings on its exoskeleton. Someone had painted a small magic circle under its wing.

  “Could someone have controlled this? Were there others with more seals?”

  After noting that, both Anemone and Aronia flinched at what they saw. There was a layer of mold underneath. The black slime was not as mucus-like as she assumed. Instead, it had a webby root-like structure covered by the darkened mucus. Anemone pulled out another knife and prodded inside the Vespula. As she continued to inspect the inside of the carapace, she noticed something strange.

  “Nia… this isn’t mold—it's spermatophores covered in mucus,” she pointed.

  “Aye, I thought maybe another insecta’s eggs at first, but I agree. This has to be a fungus,” Aronia nodded.

  Anemone thought it resembled spermatophores from a different insecta, but it was not. The film was thick, black, and sludge-like. It was not white or yellow like most mold she had seen before. The protruding caps, resembling mushrooms, created a grotesque amalgamation of both. Suddenly, she saw a bizarre image of black embers rising from a fungal web.

  “I feel as if I should know what this is.”

  As she focused more, her eyes saw black flames flicker. From her peripheral vision, Anemone caught Rubus watching them analyze the carapaces.

  “What’s wrong, you two?” he called out.

  Anemone signaled him not to approach.

  “Stay back! A strange fungus is covering this thing.”

  “Could it be that the reason they were acting so strangely? Can fungi control insecta?” Timber asked.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure. I know I heard something about a fungus that uses insecta for reproduction before… but looking like this? No,” Anemone narrowed her eyes.

  Rubus took his veil off. “That depends. What’re the chances there are gallu-type fungi?”

  “Piss off, Rubus. There’s no such thing.” Anemone snapped.

  “Gallu infecting plants? So that’s how it began….” Rowan mumbled.

  Rubus stood next to Rowan, and both focused on the fungi for two seconds before blinking. Before Anemone corrected Rubus, he raised his index with a sardonic tone.

  “Fungi aren’t plants, Rowan,” Rubus’ hazel irises fluctuated. “But yeah, that looks like Gallu-Ars.”

  A small smile almost crossed Anemone’s face as she heard Rubus correct Rowan. However, she made it fade quickly and spoke with a raised brow.

  “Gallu-Ars? And how do you know?” Anemone mocked.

  Rowan pointed at Rubus’s eye with a wide smile.

  “Most D?kkálfar possess the Sight of Twylite. We can see things that others cannot.”

  Rubus raised his brow.

  “What do you mean by 'we'? Aren’t you full, Ljósálfar?”

  “I’m cursed, remember? It comes with the territory,” responded Rowan.

  “Oh, right? I almost forgot you told me that.” Rubus nodded.

  “The Sight of Twylite? Spriggan never mentioned that before, and he’s a D?kkálfar.” Anemone pondered. “I wonder if it’s connected to my ability to see those lights…but why would I have it?”

  Spriggan did not talk about his connection to the D?kkálfar much. If he did, he was usually drunk beyond reason. Given the negative judgments they faced from others, Anemone could grasp his hesitation. He always hid his blackened sclera by applying Phantasy-Ars. Then, another thought came to Anemone’s mind as she looked back at Aronia with her head tilted.

  “But wait? Nia is also a D?kkálfar, and she doesn’t know about the colorful lights either. What’s going on?” she continued.

  Succubae have always been considered D?kkálfar. Despite Anemone’s question about Elemental Od lights, Aronia remained unaware of what she meant. Anemone wanted to ask Rubus more, but they were still on bickering terms.

  “How about we take a sample back for analysis?” Timber suggested.

  “Way ahead of you, my Mountain Mage!” Aronia rolled a vial between her fingers.

  Both she and Anemone had pulled a vial from their grimoires and scraped samples into the vials. After they put their samples away, Rubus set the corpses ablaze with a Tyndre-Ars.

  “Fantastic…Now we gotta worry about spores eating our lungs,” complained Rowan. “…I hate the past.”

  “Relax, Rowan. We can just put our masks on,” stated Rubus.

  “The past? Did I hear that right?” Anemone whispered.

  As everyone summoned a mask from their grimoire, Anemone noticed a marking on Timber’s mask. There was a tribal painted symbol of an animal on the inside. It looked as if it had pointed ears and a tail, but she didn’t see it clearly.

  “Honestly, how this little thing prevents most toxins from entering our lungs is amazing.” He spoke. “Albion has an almost beak-like mechanism equipped to masks to do this. Yet you fae have spells woven into its crafting to achieve the same goal.”

  “Of course, Tir-noNog can still compete with Albion’s tech advancements! We just focus on Ars more than tools.” Anemone prided.

  Timber nodded, “And it works well.”

  Anemone could not help but puff her chest, hearing Timber compliment her home. Knowing Albion was far more tech-savvy, it was quite a compliment. In that moment, she reluctantly tried to hide her smile as she placed her mask back on.

  “But judging from what’s nearby, this is the only one so far,” said Rubus.

  “Really reassuring, Ru. Tell that to my dead platoon.”

  “We are still alive if you haven’t realized,” Anemone hissed.

  “He means his old teammate, Wingless. Rowan claims he’s seen a lot of things. Including fungi that tower over trees.”

  “Do you mind removing the ‘claims’ from your statement? You make me feel like a liar.” Rowan shook his fist at Rubus.

  “Impossible! That’s unheard of!” Anemone jumped up. “There are large species, but hardly anything bigger than a fae’s home!”

  “Don’t doubt him entirely. His speculations are surprisingly consistent,” responded Timber.

  “Besides the insecta with Ars, he also predicted our lottery draw. Not to mention Gentiana’s betrayal with Cynareae,” Rubus added.

  “Not to mention, there was also something about the gallu spreading to more creatures?” Timber added.

  “You two do listen to me!” Rowan hugged them both.

  “Well, I’m not buying it. We should worry more about Alraune and Gallu-utukku that might appear,” Anemone folded her arms.

  “Nin’s right.” Said Aronia. “Dusk’s approaching soon, and we’ll have trouble if we lose any more sunlight.”

  “Right…Nocturnal flesh-eating plants, too. Add lung-clogging mushrooms and Gallu everything. Does anyone want to add more to the list of killer things that want to murder us?” Rowan threw his hands up.

  “Those are just the plants. Do you want me to name all the insecta? Or just common gallu in the area?” Aronia smirked.

  “No, I’m good,” whimpered Rowan.

  With the orange rays of the sky peeking through the thickets of the trees above, dusk was soon to arrive. Everyone nodded that setting up camp was the move to make. If they were lucky, they wouldn’t have to face the nocturnal wildlife on their first day. They rubbed their bodies as they noticed the solid clouds of their breath. Anemone tucked her hands into her jacket pockets as her eyes gazed into the orange-tinted sky. The evening chilled the air around them even more. Even without the first snow, the cold reminded everyone that winter was just around the corner.