3.01 – Trekking Back

“Snow,” Delta complained. “Fucking snow. Can’t ever have an easy exit realm, can I?”

Progress to the nearest outpost was crawling along, thanks to what Delta had complained about—and had been complaining about for the past hour. Unlike a forest, or even a rocky, hilly terrain, traversing across a snow-covered tundra meant sluggish, impeded advancement.

Even worse, visibility was awful. Though far from a blizzard, a snow storm—snow drizzle?—occluded their sight for more than a few dozen feet in any direction. That would be annoying in the best of cases, trying to reach a destination a person knew by heart. But here? Lost in a foreign pocket-dimension, seeking signs of life to find an outpost? Even worse.

They might be walking for a while.

At least Delta’s complaining broke the monotony.

Not.

“Like, I don’t even care it’s hard to walk in. But it gets fucking everywhere. My eyebrows are frozen. This is so stupid.”

Now, Zoey considered herself a tolerant person. She didn’t mind when people complained. She did a lot of complaining herself in ‘bullshit circumstances’. But Delta had really been going at it. Her lack of filter didn’t, apparently, only apply to saying crass things or making inappropriate observations. When she was uncomfortable, or displeased, she had no problems voicing it.

To anyone in ear shot.

Honestly, Zoey was surprised Rosalie hadn’t said anything. That might’ve been the most damning indicator to how lost in thought she was. Had Delta been this loud and persistently complaining on their trip to the shard, rather than away from it, then Rosalie would’ve been all over her. It would’ve been twice as noisy—three times, even, as they bickered.

Instead, Rosalie trudged along through the snow, setting a pace Zoey found difficult to match. She hadn’t spoken more than a few times, and only practicals: confirming Delta’s questions on what supplies she had available, should they need to stop for the night without fighting a path to an outpost.

At least they were well supplied. Though freezing in this pocket-realm, all three of them were dressed for the weather. Inventories really were an amazing thing.

Zoey had her own boots from her shopping earlier. She’d needed to borrow a coat from Rosalie, though—their preparations for Zoey hadn’t been completely thorough. Next shard, Zoey would need to finish gathering supplies.

If there was a next shard.

Which was the reason for the silent trek in the first place.

“Okay,” Delta said. “I’m fed up with it.”

“We didn’t notice,” Zoey said dryly.

“Not the snow. Though don’t even get me started on that.”

Started? Zoey thought. Delta had a little more than ‘started’ on the topic.

“Then what?”

“You two.”

“Us two?”

“I bit my tongue long enough. You’re both being insufferable.”

Zoey’s irritation spiked—‘insufferable’? “Says you?” she shot back. “You haven’t stopped whining once.”

“Look,” Delta said. “I’ll do it myself, if you won’t.”

Zoey didn’t like where this was going.

“Zoey,” Delta started with faux-ceremony. “I’m not sure wayfaring with you is a smart idea. You suck ass at fighting, and you’re way too inexperienced. Either we only tackle lower advancement shards, or we spend some time getting you caught up before we go on our next. I’m not going to get you killed.”

“Now isn’t the time for this,” Rosalie said. There was no bite in her voice, which was honestly concerning.

“Sure it is,” Delta said. “What the fuck else are we doing? We’ve got hours more of kicking our feet through snow, so let’s air this out.”

“I don’t think there’s anything to say,” Zoey muttered.

Zoey couldn’t see it past Delta’s pulled-up snow coat, but she imagined her rolling her eyes. The way she threw her hands into the air and shook her head, too, didn’t leave much for interpretation.

“What, is chilling out for two weeks the end of the world? You have a rune that makes ours evolve faster—I could even argue it’s the logical choice to take it easy. Smart in the long term. Get you comfortable with the basics, then you won’t croak it by accident. Does Princess really need to rush through the ranks that badly?”

“Yes,” Rosalie said shortly.

A pause.

“And why?” Delta asked. “Because Daddy’s got big expectations? Who the fuck are you, anyway?”

No response. Not that Zoey had expected one.

“Like she said, it’s not the time for this,” Zoey said.

“Kay. Well. That shard was closer than I wanted. I’m not—”

“It was aberrant,” Rosalie interrupted. “It cloned us, so it was unusually strong. Because we are unusually strong, relative to who would delve a second advancement. It was a fluke.” It sounded well-rehearsed, like Rosalie had been going over the point in her head.

“And what, you think there won’t be more ‘aberrant’ shards? When it comes to her?” Delta jabbed a thumb at Zoey.

Rosalie’s non-response answered for her.

“So,” Delta said. “I’m not getting her killed. We stick with first-advancement shards, or we train her up. Not even to being competent, just to the point  …” Delta waved her hand, not spelling it out.

To the point she’s not dead weight, Zoey finished for her.

“Some defensive spells is the obvious one,” Delta said. “Something passive, so if an attack slips you, she’s not toast. That’s the bare, bare minimum.”

“She has no idea how spellcasting works,” Rosalie said. “And only has an ice aspect. A passive armor skill would take weeks to learn.”

“I learned the ice spike pretty fast,” Zoey said. “It’s that much harder?”

Rosalie shot Zoey an irritated look. “Yes. Significantly. Or I would’ve had you learn it.”

That was fair.

It sucked not having a clue what anyone was talking about. Zoey couldn’t even contribute to the discussion, because she didn’t know what the alternatives were. She couldn’t weigh their options, because she hadn’t a clue what each was. How long would ‘bare competency’ take in spellcasting? In learning basic awareness, footwork, melee skills—other adventuring cornerstones?

So she went quiet again, letting Rosalie and Delta bicker.

“I don’t see why ‘weeks’ is such a big deal,” Delta said. “I know you’re trying to be the next big thing, but that shit takes years, even for the best. So what’s a few weeks to let Zoey figure things out?”

Zoey had an idea of Rosalie’s reasoning, at least. Zoey didn’t know much about Rosalie—her past, she meant; Zoey knew plenty about her in the ways that mattered—but Rosalie had given a few hints into her circumstances. Namely, that she was supposed to be returning to her family, and that her ‘solo adventures’ through the Fractures were something they would frown upon.

At a guess, worse than ‘frown upon’. And Rosalie’s only excuse for denying that directive—not heading to them immediately—would be if she returned from her bout of rogue behavior with significant progress made. Rosalie had said she shouldn’t be delaying more than a few weeks at the worst, so if they burned up that whole time with Zoey learning how to cast a few defensive spells, and how to handle herself, then Rosalie would have no excuse to offer her family. Speed mattered.

“My reasoning is none of your business, is it?” Rosalie said.

And she wasn’t particularly interested in explaining any of that to Delta. Zoey didn’t blame her. And she didn’t blame Delta’s irritated reaction, either.

“Look,” Delta said, turning to Zoey. Their trekking through the snow came to a stop. Her orange eyebrows were, as she’d complained about, frosted down. She wore a black cloth over her mouth to stave off the biting wind. “Don’t get yourself killed trying to keep up with her. Worst case, let her fuck off on her own. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out, but you’re not ready for a third-advancement shard. Or even another second, in my opinion. Not worth the risk.”

Delta wasn’t saying anything Zoey hadn’t gloomily puzzled over during the walk. Though, Zoey did appreciate Delta’s concern. Rosalie was undergoing a war of whether Zoey’s wellbeing or her life-long ambitions mattered more, and Zoey didn’t fault that, not really, but Delta—Delta’s priorities were clear. She was a dedicated wayfarer, but the health of her teammate mattered more.

“Like I said,” Zoey sighed. “I think we’re better off talking about this later. We’re all in a bad mood. I think some sleep will do us well. Let’s focus on getting to an outpost.”

She half expected a snippish response from Rosalie, agreeing with Zoey and antagonizing Delta, but she stayed quiet. She’d been tight-lipped the whole way through, which had been why Zoey’s stomach had been squirming so much. Zoey was much happier to see Rosalie in a snippish mood than a silent one—the latter was the clearly more troubled.

Delta looked like she was going to push the point—but she shook her head and turned back forward.

They continued trudging through the snow.

Zoey pulled her coat tighter.

###

The wind and snow settled, eventually, opening visibility up and removing the worst of the harsh weather—the biting cold that cut through even her thick jacket, and the flakes of ice collecting in her eyebrows and zipping into her eyes.

It was several hours more before they found a beacon, and subsequently started down the infrequently used road. An outpost came into view not long after, heralded by a plume of smoke curling up into the winter sky, stark against the backdrop of white.

They didn’t talk much. Even Delta’s complaining cut off. Zoey was grateful for that, and also not. Because neither of her teammates were the silent type, and seeing them … well, not be them, was unsettling.

How’d it go bad so fast?

And it wasn’t anyone’s fault. That was the worst part, somehow. She couldn’t find any blame to dole out, which had Zoey’s bad mood settling in the pit of her stomach and spoiling. It’d have been easier with something to direct her annoyance at. But even when she tried to face it inward … again, she could hardly blame herself for being a novice spellcaster, a poor adventurer. Though some did latch, there; rationality rarely won out in this kind of situation.

They shook off the snow at the doorway, then wiped their boots down under a frowning innkeeper’s gaze. Once done, he nodded for them to come in, and they checked out rooms for the night. It’d been a long day, and each of them were ready to sleep. It had been Zoey’s suggestion to let their thoughts settle in the first place.

Rosalie accepted Zoey’s offer to share a room. That was something. Rosalie was conflicted, and for good reasons, but Zoey knew she didn’t want to split up—that rather, it might be a necessity, both for purpose of her advancement, and Zoey’s safety.

They went about their nightly routines. Seeing Rosalie ready up for the night stung, somehow, like Zoey was being teased with the domesticity of what she might’ve been able to have, but which had good chances of being lost.

Things didn’t take a heated turn, laying together in bed, for obvious reasons. Zoey supposed they’d had plenty of that in the shard, anyway.

It took a while to fall asleep, but she did. Zoey had exhaustion on her side.