“Well then, this is good-bye,” I said. The rest of my group was already down the road, shouldering the roughly-sewn backpacks that the Bolob had given us.

“It is,” Non said.

“Thank you for helping us.”

“Don’t be so odd,” Non said, smiling. “You’ve thanked us already.”

“It bears repeating, I think,” I said. “Thank you too, Tat. I hope we’re even now?”

“We are,” Tat said. “Thank you for enlightening me about human mating rituals.”

“It was my pleasure,” I said, thinking about the rich variety of expressions on Tamara’s face as she had listened to us talk. My hands were itching to sketch some of those down while they were fresh in my memory.

With a final wave to Non and Tat, I turned to join the others. Simon wanted to put some distance between us and our newfound bald friends. According to him the Bolob was suspiciously generous, so it wasn’t out of question that they’d try to get everything back. I didn’t share his concerns, but I agreed that something was afoot. Non had said that the boar tusks were barely worth anything, but in hindsight they might had been a bit too eager to take those worthless tusks off our hands.

Luckily Tamara had been with me, so we still got more out of the deal than I expected. She had asked for many things that I hadn’t even thought about, such as bandages for Pell’s wound and flintstones so that we could light fires without Simon too. We had gotten our hands on sleeping bags too, and I had received a nifty dark-green cloak, a belt I could tuck Soul Eater into, and a new shirt to replace the bloody one I wore. However, all of my new possessions were overshadowed by one other set of items that Non had given me; paper and ink. I could barely wait to try them out. Soon we arrived back to the place where we had found the bridge, and after some deliberation we took a sharp turn off the road, settling down behind a row of dense bushes to get ready for the night. The others debated a bit whether we should light a fire, but in the end convenience won over caution.

I volunteered for the first watch. I wasn’t sleepy yet, just sore all over; the only time I walked this much was on Sarah’s trekking trips, and even those rarely lasted this long. My legs hurt from walking several days without a pause, and my shoulder was still aching from that one time I threw Soul Eater. But even if I was physically worn-out, I doubted that I would be able to fall asleep. Perhaps it was the tea Non had given me, or the shorter days compared to Earth … or perhaps I just had too much on my mind lately.

The others went to sleep in short order, save for Devi’lynn who sat down by the small campfire. To pass some time, I busied myself by slicing up one of those fist-sized blue fruits that grew in this area. Non had assured me that they were edible, with the exception of the hard rim that would be too tough for my teeth anyway. Even with Soul Eater’s help it was tricky to cut through the round and glossy surface of the fruit. The segmented inside was soft on the other hand, reminding me of an orange—though it tasted more sweet than sour. I gave half of the fruit to Devi’lynn, munching on my part in thoughtful silence.

“Randel?” Devi’lynn asked quietly once she finished her portion. I reached for another fruit from the stack I had collected.

“Yes?”

“You leader?” Devi’lynn asked. “Lead the group?”

I stopped cutting up the fruit to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not the leader. Simon is the leader.”

“No,” Devi’lynn said, shaking her head. “Be leader. Why no you?”

I blinked in surprise, then glanced quickly at the prone bodies on the other side of the fire. They all seemed to be asleep, even the ever-watchful Teva’ryn.

“Are you telling me that I should be the leader? Why?”

“You,” Devi’lynn nodded. “You strong, and brave. Why no leader?”

I suppressed an amused smile. As if being strong would qualify someone to lead! Well, Devi’lynn was working with a limited vocabulary, so perhaps I could cut her some slack.

“I’m not strong,” I said. “Teva’ryn could wipe the floor with me.”

And Devi’lynn was mistaken if she thought me brave for contacting the Bolob; I had an escape plan in place, while didn’t. Thankfully, whatever Devi’lynn intended to say was beyond her vocabulary and she dropped the matter, muttering something about Teva’ryn that I didn’t catch.

I was able to eat about two slices of the fruit before she interrupted me again, holding out another fruit to me. The skin on her hand was a shade darker than the fruit, but her fingernails were almost the same hue, with a similar glossy sheen as they reflected the flickering light of the campfire. Lit by those warm colors, her hand looked almost more purple than blue.

“Cut, please,” Devi said when I didn’t move to take the fruit from her. Still not moving, I eyed the expectant expression on her face a bit before teleporting Soul Eater to my hand.

“I’m not your mother,” I told her, flipping the dagger in my hand and holding it out for her to take. “Cut it up yourself.”

Devi’lynn’s silvery eyelashes fluttered as she looked down at Soul Eater, amber eyes going wide in surprise. Now it was her time to glance at Teva’ryn, making sure that he was sleeping. Then slowly, almost timidly, she reached out and grabbed the dagger’s handle. She took the weapon from me, holding it almost reverently, with a smile so brilliant that my breath caught for a moment. Eyes brimming with excitement, she grabbed the blue fruit and pointed the dagger at it—and I teleported Soul Eater back to me quickly.

“Hey!” Devi’lynn exclaimed indignantly, forgetting to keep her voice low.

“I guess I’ll be your mother, this once,” I whispered, scooting closer to her. “See, the rind of that fruit is quite hard. You are going to cut yourself if you hold it like that.”

I gave her the dagger once again, then placed the fruit between us. Guiding her hands in position, I showed her how to slice the fruit up without cutting her own fingers. Devi’lynn attacked the poor fruit vigorously, chopping it up into tiny sheds in no time. Her intention to eat was completely forgotten. She snatched a second fruit and minced it up as well.

“Awesome,” she said, admiring her work. She glanced at me, then got to her feet and stood a bit aside to give the dagger a few test swings. I couldn’t help but grin at her obvious excitement. I closed my eyes to fix a sword’s image in my head, making Soul Eater change its shape in Devi’lynn’s hand. The material wasn’t able to extend enough to match what I had in mind, so I had to improvise a little; I shaped the blade thin – similar to a rapier – while adding an elaborate hand guard to it much to Devi’lynn’s delight.

“I am warrior!” she whispered with glee, posing with the thin sword. “Fear my weapon!”

“Now all you need is an opponent,” I said, smiling. Devi’lynn jumped forward suddenly, the air distorting behind her as she left a clone behind. She then whirled around, gasping as if the clone’s presence surprised her.

“Enemy!”

The clone swung its sword-wielding arm at her clumsily, which Devi’lynn dodged with a nimble step. She lunged forward quickly, thrusting the point of the rapier into her copy’s head. The clone puffed into a smoke, and I clapped – quietly, of course – as Devi’lynn turned to me with a triumphant salute. She then summoned two more clones, and the next round of play-fight began. For a few minutes I watched Devi’lynn hop around the camp, but it seemed obvious that she wasn’t going to finish playing with Soul Eater anytime soon.

I took a moment to make the edge of the blade blunter, then turned my attention to my backpack. I took out the thick roll of yellowish paper that Non had given me, along with the thin wooden board to pin the paper on. I tore off a piece of paper carefully, then took out the bottle of black ink and the simple pen from my bag.

It had been a while since I did any traditional art, so I knew I’d be a bit rusty. The new and unfamiliar equipment alongside with the much too small board didn’t help matters either. Still, when I dipped my pen into the ink I’d have wagered that I felt just as excited as Devi’lynn did.

From warming up I sketched a couple of Tamara-expressions, nothing too elaborate, just a few lines. I had to be conservative with the paper, so I tried to keep the drawings small. Quite soon I moved on to Non and Tat, but this time I was less concerned with drawing them accurately and tried to focus on their unique physique instead. Admittedly, on a sheet of paper it was difficult to capture how flexible their bodies were and how unaffected they had been by directions, but I did my best. The laser-shooting boar came next, and I changed drawing style once again. I went for a more cartoonish look this time, to emphasise the way the beast had etched itself into my memory; enormous, frothing, with a pair of beady eyes that overflowed with anger and fury.

Time flew by, and I found myself completing a quick sketch of a six-legged rabbit too. By now I had gotten the hang of my new instrument, so I decided it was time for something more challenging. I looked up at Devi’lynn—only to find her nowhere.

“What’s this called?” her accented voice spoke behind me. The black blade of Soul Eater appeared next to my head, pointing at my drawing.

“Rabbit,” I told her, pushing the sword gently aside.

“I know rabbit,” Devi’lynn said, readjusting Soul Eater to point at the ink and the pen. “What’s this called?”

“Now I understand why he wouldn’t let you hold any weapon,” I grumbled, pushing the sword away once again.

“What?”

“Drawing,” I said with a sigh. “It’s called drawing.”

“Drawing,” she repeated. “A woman-job.”

“Eh?” I eloquently asked, looking up at her.

“Why do woman-job?” she asked, tone insistent.

Great. She barely knew more than a handful words, and even she was criticizing my carrier choices. Some things I just couldn’t escape even after leaving Earth.

“Because I like it,” I said with a frown. “And because I’m good at it.”

“Good drawing,” Devi’lynn agreed with a nod. “And … like? You say like?”

“That’s what I said.”

“But—”

“Guys?” Imaya mumbled, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “Is it morning yet?”

Devi’lynn fumbled to hide the sword behind her back, but it was already in my hand by the time Imaya looked up.

“Not yet, but soon,” I replied, peeking up at the sky through the canopy. The leaves were bathed in a soft, warm light—the light of the moon. It had a distinctly different color from what I saw on the first night. According to Non, it took seven days for the moon to change its hue from deep amber to dark green, flooding the world with mana in the process. In another seven days the moon would return to amber, thus completing a cycle—a measurement of time people around here used instead of weeks. I had no idea how it mapped to Earth-time, considering that the days on Nerilia were shorter … but Tamara had probably done the maths already, so I just had to ask her.

Imaya had enough sleep apparently, because she climbed out of her bag and came over to munch on Devi’lynn’s minced fruit. The magic of the night was over. I packed my drawing equipment away, feeling a profound sense of satisfaction. Finding some familiarity in this foreign world had put me in a good mood, as well as helped me digest everything that happened. Having crazy teleportation superpowers, shaping my dagger with my mind, talking with all sorts of strange beings, fighting for my life … it had almost been too much. Too new, too alien. I needed something familiar to cling onto, to center myself, to believe that everything would be fine again. My ink-stained fingers were all the proof I needed, to know that not all was lost.