"The universe works in mysterious ways," said Bekkit when I raised the question with him.
"The universe can suck my—"
"Will you stop being so negative?" snapped Ket. "And as for you, Bekkit, you cryptic turd—quit it with the vague answers. Just admit you don't know."
"That is patently false. I shall admit no such thing." He sniffed haughtily. "Ask your questions, young Core. I shall answer."
"Like I just said, this whole process seems so unfair. Why?"
"What is 'fair,' really? When you think about it—"
Ket growled.
"Fine, fine." Bekkit raised his hands and flitted further away, keeping plenty of distance between himself and Ket. "As I mentioned before, the penalties for traveling are intended as a deterrent. A nomad Core with full access to their abilities could quickly become powerful enough to overwhelm or absorb any civilization in its path. It’s all about balance. And it makes sense from a purely practical standpoint, too. Having a smaller Sphere to keep track of, for instance."
"All right, but the penalty for failure is in Faith," I pointed out. "From a 'purely practical standpoint,' why can't I access my mana?"
"Well," he cleared his throat, "I do not know the ins and outs of it, of course. There are forces in this universe beyond even my comprehension, you know."
He said this as though he didn't really believe it. Egotistic jerk.
"I have a hypothesis,” he continued, “based on my own past experiences with the ability, and it is thus: your Sphere contracts because it is working harder than it usually needs to. Exodus draws upon the magic of time and space—the most complicated and nuanced kind in existence. Well, besides that of life and death, of course. Fluctuations in mana or Faith—such as those caused by spellcasting, ascension, or worship—could affect its precarious balance with potentially drastic consequences."
"What do you mean, 'the magic of time and space'? I thought that was, like, portals and stuff."
Bekkit scoffed. “That’s a childishly simplistic way of thinking.”
"Then explain like I'm a simple child."
The sprite gave a long-suffering sigh. "Activating Exodus does not let us travel through time and space. Rather, it warps reality around us. It makes you—all of us—take up less room. And time travels more slowly outside of it."
Wow. The very idea left me reeling. It was—
"I hate to kill your delusions of grandeur, Kit, but nothing you just said is true."
Benin was back. He'd been sheltering beneath a tree, and remained lounging against its trunk with his arms folded as my SOI reached and encompassed him.
"I checked the map,” he said to me. “The forest runs for miles in every direction. We've picked out what we think is a safe route in, but we should probably camp soon and hope the weather clears up. The trees run down into a valley before the ground rises toward the mountains; it'll be a swamp down there."
"Agreed. We'll stop when we reach the canopy. We could use the extra shelter."
I conveyed the news to Ris'kin. Her ears perked up at the prospect of respite from the downpour, and she passed from group to group, encouraging them on and presumably spreading the good news.
Bekkit cleared his throat again. "Ah, young mage, would you care to explain yourself? You said—"
"I said you're talking horseshit, yeah."
While the sprite spluttered indignantly, Benin explained, "Coll and I have been in and out of your Sphere this entire time. I just left it for an hour and found it again easily, and I felt zero variation between the two environments. No timeslip. No warping." He shrugged. "Your theory is flawed. Guess again, Kit."
"Bekkit, if you please, boy." He sniffed.
"Yes, Bekkit, if you please," said Ket. "'Kit' is much too close to 'Ket,' thank you very much."
Benin frowned. "Who's Ket? I thought your name was Sparky."
The mage's shit-eating grin made him look younger than usual. He's really just a boy, I realized.
Ket fizzed in annoyance, but I could tell she wasn't truly angry. It seemed she had a soft spot for the pyro, and he for her.
The same could not be said for Bekkit. It didn't much matter to me how the exodus worked. I only cared that it did work. But Bekkit was clearly disgruntled to have been proved wrong by an upstart human, and was muttering to himself furiously.
"Perhaps it's because the humans were present when Exodus was activated," he speculated. "If it only affects those outside of its radius, it may recognize them as non-hostile. Part of the tribe, if you will. But then that would mean... hmm..."
"What if it's like a camouflage spell? A glamor?" offered Benin. "I’ve heard of enchantments that can make you less noticeable to natural predators."
“Interesting…”
That theory was shot down dramatically just seconds later when a darker shape swooped from the shadows of the trees. On instinct, I activated Insight.
Tiger Owl
Bird
This forest-dwelling raptor is Kelaria’s largest native owl species, and one of its fiercest hunters.
Like all owls, its ear openings are asymmetrical, enhancing its ability to triangulate the location of prey. The tiger owl also possesses excellent night vision; its amber eyes can detect movement from great distances, and it can rotate its head up to 270 degrees.
The tiger owl typically approaches its prey from above, swooping down on silent wings to snatch up small mammals and then crushing their bodies with the strength of its powerful talons after returning to the nest.
Its viciousness, along with its hornlike ear tufts (’plumicorns’), have earned it the nickname "devil owl."
With a squawk, it descended on Emrys's group at the convoy's edge with the speed of a plummeting stone.
Tiger Owl Status Marked As Hostile
A faint red aura appeared around the owl.
Hostile? You think?!
Binky was faster. As soon as he caught sight of the rapidly approaching threat, he reared up to his full height, his front four legs raised warningly in defense of his cart and its precious cargo of gnomish
