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"Why not?" Kyro asked, drunkenly draped over a rock like it was a hammock. He took another drink. "You forced the poor girl into The Briar expecting her to get shredded, and instead, she walked out with Escala’s seed. Gods… that’s hil~ar~ious."

Her… what? He looked down and saw the seed in my hand. What is that?

"It’s…" I paused. "Her clone? I think if I plant it, she’ll grow somewhere else."

He panicked. You’re taking her out of The Briar?

"No… she’s… she’s still in there. This is like… a duplicate. She asked me to plant it in the Fifth Ring, so she can tell their guardians not to heckle me."

"Hah!" Kyro laughed and took a swig, spilling brandy all over himself. "She must’ve read your memories and was like, ’What the fuck? I leave for five minutes, and everyone turns into an unreasonable fucking asshole. Take this. I’ll fix that."

Throvel growled, but he didn’t speak. He just looked at the seed and then at Kyro and then the wyverns. His eyes then landed on me.

Why?

"’Cause as much as you’ll hate to hear it," I said, summoning up some confidence, "you’re not enough."

Kyro snapped his fingers and pointed at Throvel’s fuming face. "She’s got you there."

I rolled my eyes at Kyro and continued. "Listen Thorvel. I heard the story about… what happened a hundred years ago. And… I’m not going to try to say that I understand you or anyone else’s pain. Okay? I’m not going to say that I know this forest or its history. But I do know this: what happened a century ago wasn’t a serious attack on this forest—and Yakana… Emael… Nethralis… and Kyro know it."

Throvel snorted, but Kyro shot him a glare that I could feel from twenty feet away, and the dragon fell silent as Kyro stood and brushed off his pants.

"She’s right," he said. "No one likes to talk about it ’cause… there wasn’t shit we could do about it. No sense in demoralizing anyone, but… it’s true. Look, Thorvel. I was born after the Jacksmore, so I never saw the war. But I did watch Brindle rip the soul out of a fifth evolution colossus five times your size without even attacking it—and that’s who the Jacksmores almost defeated."

Thorvel’s anger cooled, but he still narrowed his eyes. You’re exaggerating.

"Exaggerating…? Do you even know what Harrowed Pass is? It’s a canyon created by an arrow. Yakana shattered the mountain so the Drokai could stage an ambush on the Jacksa Delta. And he did that as a fourth ev."

I didn’t know what he was talking about, but my imagination went wild, imagining a colossal gash in the land from a single arrow. After seeing my arrows make trees and dirt explode, I wondered what a peak fourth evolution being could create.

I wondered what I could do after reaching the fourth evolution.

Just the thought was captivating.

"You’re weak, Thorvel." Kyro took a deep swig and shivered. "We’re all weak. But this one…" He pointed at me. "She could be another Brindle—and that’s what we need right now. It doesn’t matter if it’s a human. A beastkin. A fucking… anyone. We need someone, and all three of the elders picked this one. And you’re gonna have to accept that. Because she just went through a lot of bullshit because of you, and no one’s gonna accept another output."

He sneered and looked at me. If you tell anyone—

"Then it’s your fault!" Kyro yelled. "You forced her to come here. You forced her to learn the magic. And then I warned you that she’d survive, but you sent her—"

"Hey," I said.

Kyro calmed down hesitantly.

"I promised I wouldn’t talk about it," I said. "And unless you keep talking about it, I don’t think my…" I tapped my head twice, "guide can figure it out. I gotta spell to quiet my thoughts."

Throvel frowned.

"So… um… are we cool? ’Cause I did what you wanted… and…" I lifted the seed. "This pretty much means… Well, I can’t talk about it. But it’s the ultimate sign of trust."

Thorvel studied the seed and then glanced at Kyro and then glowered at me. I don’t trust you. I’ll live with you… but I won’t trust you. And just know… He looked at Kyro. I will demand your execution if you cross us.

I sighed in relief. "Thanks."

Suddenly, something dropped from behind me. I turned and saw it was my salt shaker. "Wait… how did…?" I unclipped my backpack and examined it. There was a hole from where the barb had hit. "Shit… shit shit shit shit shit!" I unzipped the backpack and found one of my preservation chambers was shattered. "Oh no…"

"What’s wrong?" Kyro asked frantically.

"One of my tributes was shattered… and it’s air sensitive. Shit!" I pounded the ground and opened my guide but saw the following message:

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The Guide must be able to access your thoughts to operate. Please cease any spells or techniques that obfuscate thoughts before continuing.

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"That’s hopeful…" I whispered before focusing on the thought-shielding spell and trying to release it. It worked, and the guide popped up with a concerning message:

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Guide Reactivated.

Warning: Continued thought suppression will result in guide restrictions and penalties.

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Then another popup followed that negated it.

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Scion Override: Your status as a scion has overwritten the limitations on thought suppression. However, you may not use The Guide within 24 hours following the use of thought suppression magic or techniques.

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"Well then…" I chuckled darkly. "Please say you gave me a warning…" The Guide popped up, and it worked. "Thank God…"

Then, I switched to thought commands. Information Request: tell me where the nearest patch of jii plants is. I need fifty. Give me a dynamic map of the fastest way to get there.

A map pulled up, and I sighed in relief. There was one only five miles away.

"Everything good?" Kyro asked.

"Yeah. It’s good." I stood up and looked at Thorvel. "Look. I’ll be covering the Harvest this year. You can watch me. If I do something wrong… let the Drokai know. Okay? I’m not looking for trouble. Now… I gotta go. Is there anything else you want to say?"

Thorvel took a deep breath through his nostrils and turned away. "No." He then snubbed his snout, and his pack flew away.

"Gods, I hate that prick," Kyro said. "You only get twenty years of empathy before being unreasonable’s just unreasonable. Fifty at most." he turned to me. "You good?"

"Yeah. We just gotta get some plants. Thankfully, this’s the only container that broke."

"Okay, let’s go."

I petted Sina’s snout and loaded up; then, we hit the road en route to the jii plants.

Jiis were simple yellow plants that acted as binding agents for elixirs. They weren’t rare in Areswood, but they were rare elsewhere, which inflated the price. That’s why they were nicknamed First-in-Gold Mine, on account of the fact that the first people in during the harvest usually found a few and made a small fortune. That said, they were facing the waiting beasts head-on. So it was high risk, high reward.

And oh, was it high risk.

We passed hundreds of second-evolution beasts on the way to The Briar and dozens more over the five-mile trip to the flowers. The only reason we weren’t bathed in blood was because I was riding in a pack of third-evolution beasts. Every small fry simply ran when we got near. But for harvesters? I could only imagine the bloodbath it would take to reach this simple patch of flowers.

We were about half a mile out when I spotted something through the thicket. It was a meadow, bathed in silver light, glowing with blue flowers. On closer examination, I realized that the color wasn’t natural. It was the soul plant highlighting I got with my soul pact skill.

"Soul plants?" I whispered curiously. "They’re neon…"

My guide forced itself into my vision, blocking out the trees behind it. When I read it, I broke out in cold sweats.

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Warning! You have discovered a trap plant.

Name: Nearan Freeters (Puppet Dust)

Type: Trap Plant

Summary: Why cope with a person’s bad personality when you can just obliterate it? Just throw ’em into one of these inconspicuous ferns, and they’ll inhale spores that will eat their mind, personality, and agency—forever. Just be warned: once a person’s cognitive neara is destroyed, it cannot be restored. The person will forever be a puppet that only retains motor function and muscle memory and responds to stimuli—unless you happen to have a freakish magic path that could transfer a person’s entire mind and soul into another body. Well, then I’d suppose it would be possible to unpuppet someone… illegally. Very, very illegally. Of course.

Warning: Spores can spread long distances. It’s recommended you keep at a distance of two hundred meters to prevent potential damage.

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Kyro eyed me curiously as I read the screen.

"Damn that thing’s handy," he whispered. "Those things’ll mess you up. Pain in the ass to capture, too. I’ve watched way too many people lose their minds trying to capture some."

I grimaced. "What’d you even use them for?"

"Poor man’s soulmancy," Kyro said grimly. "Instead of rippin’ a soul out of a dying creature, my students would dope one with freeters. Then wal~lah. Perfect vessel. Idiots."

"Oh…"

Kyro took a thick swig and nodded. "Yeah. Let’s get out of here."

I nodded and pulled up the map and pointed. "That way."

We carried on, finding the flowers in a thicket twenty miles south of the Bramble’s "mouth," as Kyro called it, the exit of the natural tunnel that led from the gate to Areswood Forest—the place everyone would come to tomorrow. I then fed Kline and the lurvine marinated cooked third evolution beast meat to free up a preservation chamber and used it to collect well over two hundred jii bulbs, determined to sell the extra. Then we set up camp in a monster-ridden country, protected by a powerful ward and seven third-evolution beasts, and got some rest. The Harvest was here—and I would need my rest.

2.

Tyler woke from one of those strange and hazy dreams that bridged the past and future with a veil of what appeared to be a spell of waking insomnia before the time leap.

Most nights had gone sleepless for Tyler in the weeks leading up to the Harvest. He couldn’t wait to see Mira and figure out what the hell had happened to her. Somehow, the same girl who always screamed at him about stealing all the hot shower water only to eat all the cereal had become a bloodthirsty legend that no one could shut up about.

It felt like propaganda, a lie that everyone knew was fake but had been repeated for so long and with such passion that people silently accepted it was true anyway.

Mira Hill. The Areswood Savage. Someone who had not only survived but also had the audacity to threaten the entire world. It had to be fake, right?

But it wasn’t.

Unless someone else gave him a teacher and a ton of magic, his sister was actually in that forest, eating platinum rewards in place of cereal, defying everyone’s expectations.

It made him wonder just how dangerous the forest really was. Sure, he saw the trees shoot tendrils that strangled riders as beasts ate them alive…

No…

There was no denying it.

Mira Hill was the real deal. Question was, was she still his sister? That’s the thing that haunted him. No matter the outcome, he would have to face it soon.