124 – A Question

Mal's footsteps crunched against the dry leaves.

"So," he said. "Are you going to tell me what it is we're looking for?"

Rolam peered over the top of a bush, then shook his head to himself.

"We're looking for a Moonblossom," he said. "Extremely rare, but you can't miss it. The petals kind of go into themselves like a cocoon."

"You mean a peony?"

"No idea what that is, but sure. The thing about the Moonblossom is that the color is completely unnatural. It's a silver shade, the exact color of the moon. It even glows a little."

Mal glanced over at the sun. It was more than three-quarters of the way through its arc in the sky.

"If we don't get it in a few hours, we're just going to end up seeing the actual moon tonight."

"We need to get it done before midnight," Rolam said. "The border between the living and the dead is at its weakest then."

Mal raised an eyebrow. "Are we about to perform a necromantic ritual?"

Rolam stopped and turned at him. "What? No. We make an offering to the dead, and because the veil is low, they're able to see it. That's all. We're not trying to commit any crimes against nature."

Mal raised his hands in the air. "Just asking."

He doesn't sound like he believes what he's saying, Mal noted. He chose not to comment on it.

"I forgot," Rolam turned back around and continued walking. "You use aligned magic, right?"

"I do."

"So you know that dates and times are significant. Auntie was always up at odd hours. When we asked, she'd always mutter something about auspicious times or the phases of the moon."

That reminded Mal: he needed to meet with Hortensia again sometime next year.

"Who's this offering for?" Mal asked.

Rolam's walking pace hitched by a fraction, but he recovered in an instant before Mal could call him out on it.

"Just someone I know."

Mal double-checked the sun. It had only sunk lower.

"It does grow here, right?"

"It does." Rolam paused. "Probably."

"You aren't sure?"

"It grows at this altitude, but admittedly, I've only ever seen it in my homeland. I haven't even heard of it mentioned here in the East."

"Great. So we might end up spending the next several hours here for no reason."

"I didn't ask you to be here."

"I'm aware."

"Then stop complaining and just look for the bedeviled plant."

"You're awfully on edge, aren't you?"

"Gee, I wonder why." Rolam rolled his eyes. "It's not like I'm standing next to a criminal leader who's taken over one of the four quarters of Exodi City." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "When did you even have time to do that?"

"It was a lot easier than you might expect. It only took a few kidnappings and—"

"Stop talking. I would rather not have to lie to the city guard if they ask what I knew."

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say."

Mal checked the sun. It had started to cast a red glow across the sky, a sign that evening was coming to a close.

"I think we need an actual plan," Mal said.

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Maybe we can try getting up on top of a tree and looking around for any glowing?"

"That'll only really be doable once the night starts to set in. During the day, the sun is too bright and drowns out the glow."

Mal tapped his chin.

"What if we work backwards?" he said. "Do you know what kind of soil the Moonblossom tends to prefer? If there's a particular biome that it tends to grow in?"

"Not really. All I know is that it grows at about this altitude in the hills and mountains to the west."

Mal stroked his chin. There was actually a lot of information there. He'd been to the west, he knew the climate, and while he didn't test the soil specifically, he was reasonably sure that he could still make some basic guesses.

It had generally been humid in the city proper and inside of the weird magic forest. Sweaty and sticky and kind of gross.

However, that didn't go for the mountainous regions. Obviously, in the mountains, the altitude and wind significantly improved the humidity.

But even with those distances in mind, with the same altitudes in mind, there were still differences between the two locales.

In the first timeline, Mal had traveled through a northern mountain pass to get from the Elven region into the northern empire of Violeko. Because of the northern winds, the mountains there were far more perilous than any to the east. It had been a nightmare keeping Mal's army warm and ready, and Mal eventually had to give up on taking the northern pass entirely—at least during the winter.

At the current moment, they were on the west side of the mountain, where the sun had been beating down on the trees and rocks and dirt for the past several hours. It was the absolute warmest part of the mountain.

"We're on the wrong side," Mal said.

"What are you talking about?"

"If the flower is going to grow anywhere, it'll be growing in the cold," he said. "We need to wrap around to the northern side. The breeze is coming in from over there right now."

For a little bit, Rolam's eyes were blank as he stared at Mal, before they abruptly lit up and he nodded. "Yes, of course. You're right. I saw the plants here and I assumed that... Okay, let's get going."

The night breeze chilled Mal's skin down to the bone. He shivered and tucked his arms in between his sleeves and his hands under his armpits.

"I've been out at night before." Rolam's teeth chattered. "But this is absurd."

Mal's legs buckled against the loose gravel before he caught himself. "The cchool is designed in such a way that the winds don't get into the main campus. And I believe that the barrier surrounding the entire structure also helps with weather."

"But we're outside of the campus," Rolam said, "so we don't get the protection."

Mal nodded, though he hid a frown. The explanation was sound, but it still seemed a bit too cold, even for that. It was the start of autumn, fresh after summer, but Mal felt as if he were in the midst of a Violeko winter.

A giggle.

Just at the edge of his senses. His spine snapped into a straight position and his hair stood on end against his robes.

"Honored leader?—" Rolam stiffened. "—I mean Mal. What is it?"

Mal waited for another one of the noises, then breathed out slow. "Nothing. Must have been my imagination."

Rolam fell silent at this before he abruptly broke the silence as his feet crunched against the loose rock.

"We're running out of time," he said. "Only two hours to midnight."

They were moving by the glow of the moon. They'd cut out their lights some time ago, hoping that the lack of vision would result in the Moonblossom sticking out like a sore thumb. Instead, they'd mostly—

Mal's feet caught on a solid boulder and he tripped forward and hit the ground.

If he had been a few feet further, he would have fallen straight off a cliff.

Mal stood up and glared at his hands. Total Awareness had told him that the boulder was there, but he was so tired and it was so late that he hadn't been able to react in time.

"Are you okay?" Rolam glanced back and looked at him.

"Fine. Just took a tumble."

Rolam turned his head back forward. His footsteps jolted and he gasped.

"What?" Mal stepped forward. "What is it?"

"Mal, up ahead, look, it's—"

A white glow—

On the other end of a large chasm the size of a city block.

Mal grimaced. Of course, why wouldn't Eternus attempt to screw them over at the last moment?

"We could try to climb down and up," Mal said, "but—"

"That would take too long." Rolam pointed at the bottom of the chasm. "That goes almost all the way down to sea level."

Mal hated to admit it, but he was right.

"We could try going around the side," Mal said.

The side was a steep, almost perfectly vertical cliffside, where the rock had smoothed out to the point where there were almost no handholds whatsoever.

Even Rolam grimaced at the suggestion. He walked over to the edge to the side and rubbed his hands against the stone.

"Could we try jumping it?" Rolam said.

"Sure. If you don't mind taking your life into your own hands."

If Mal had access to Nellomancy, he could have carved a hole through the edge of the mountain and made a walkway.

Oh, dark magic, he thought. How I miss you more and more every day.

Aside from the fact that it made him lose his mind, it was a damn handy tool at times like these.

"Nothing for it. We'll just have to try to climb horizontally," Rolam said.

He lifted himself up and off the ground, somehow finding a small crevice to slip his fingers into. He crept across the ravine, one inch at a time.

Mal walked up to the smooth stone, then frowned. Unlike Rolam, he didn't have freakish natural athleticism, and even with mana circulation, Mal doubted his fingers were strong enough to grip onto the smooth stone.

Instead, Mal shut his eyes and "felt" along the wall with his Total Awareness.

There.

He jumped into the air and gripped a section of the cliffside that was rougher than the rest. The pads of his fingers scraped against the stone, but held his body in place.

The cycle repeated itself for the next ten minutes. Check the surrounding area for a grip, then move his body. Check, move. Check, move.

He reached out, gripped the stone—

It cracked underneath his weight and fell off.

Mal's heart leapt into his throat. He quickly grabbed onto the same section of rock that his other hand was on and managed to secure himself. The loose rock tumbled down through the air before it hit the ground with a loud boom that Mal was sure had been heard for miles around.

"What was that?!" Rolam tried to adjust to look back, but couldn't. "Mal, are you alive?"

"Surprisingly."

Rolam's shoulders relaxed. "Be careful."

The two resumed their pattern of stepping. They were more than halfway across the chasm.

"How are you holding up?" Rolam stopped, and was able to shift his head around to face back toward Mal. "Still hanging in there?"

"Yes."

Rolam stared at him, then sighed. "You and Lusia are disturbingly similar, you know that?"

"What?" Mal cocked an eyebrow. "In what ways?"

"You both do the single-word responses. It's hilarious, really."

Mal rolled his eyes. "She does single-word responses because she's incapable of communication. I respond that way because your questions are stupid and they deserve stupid answers."

"Aggressive, much?"

"I call them how I see them."

Rolam scoffed, though a small smirk was visible on his face. He twisted his head back around, and resumed the climb.

"You know," he said, "Mal, I have a question for you."

Mal grunted. "Shoot."

"Do you think—" He reached out his foot to test a step, then drew it back and tested another. "Do you think that you're a good person?"

"That's a hell of a thing to ask."

"You don't have to answer. It's more for my own idle curiosity."

A beat of silence.

"I just, uh," Rolam stumbled over his words. "It's something that I've been thinking about a lot—not you, but myself, and—"

"No, of course not," Mal said. "I would have to be a complete lunatic to think that."

Rolam turned his head back around, eyes wide. "Are you serious?"

"Rolam, I have murdered multiple people," Mal said, eyebrows furrowed. "And that's just the tip of the iceberg. I've done far worse things that—"

—that I can't tell you about. That technically didn't happen, but haunt my dreams every night.

"What a strange question," Mal said under his breath.

He took a step, and—

The rock gave out underneath him.

He drew his foot back, but it had been too late. Too much of his weight had been on his forward foot.

Mal's boots slipped from under his feet. His fingers dug into the stone as hard as they could, but they just weren't strong enough. The rock scraped against his fingertips, and he fell off the cliffside.