Fire and ash billowed from the volcano’s spout like water from a geyser. A superheated jet stream torched the night with streaks of red as it was split into a spray of scalding rocks. The spirit’s anger spread as it cooled, filling the sky and obscuring the heavens with thick clouds of blackened dust. Beneath the moonless firmament, there ran a dozen fresh rivers, streams made of the molten storm. Fiery avalanches surged down the infernal alp with seemingly unparalleled vigour, but Claire remained far ahead of the all-consuming wave.

Log Entry 1768
You have completed “Destroy Borrok Peak.”

You have been awarded 250 points in every ability score.

She started the descent with a dolphin-shaped snowboard underfoot, but abandoned the faulty instrument roughly a fifth of the way down the mountain. The gargoyle wasn’t large enough to support her lyrkrian frame, nor was it flat enough to provide a boost to her speed. Its struggling had only served to delay her, so she disposed of it with a stomp and buried its corpse in a mound of snow.

She flew down the mountain like a deer, leaping and bounding with a spring in each step. At a glance, it appeared as would a mad, haphazard dash from the summit, but Claire was not so foolish. Borrok Peak floated in an otherwise empty void; simply rushing to its base would not get her to safety.

That was why she followed in the released centaurs’ steps. The trail they left was still fresh in the snow, but Tracking was unable to detect them. In other words, they knew of a portal leading out of the sunless subspace—a doorway of sorts that would take her off the mountain. Further confirming her suspicions were the biome’s various inhabitants. Not all of them could escape the spirit’s rage, but those that managed to outrun death clearly shared her destination.

Chasing the panicked crowd, Claire eventually found herself faced with a dense but unremarkable patch of woodland. There was no visual distortion, but she sensed a series of vectors within, and everything that dashed into the grove would vanish in the beat of a heart. Trusting their judgement, the lyrkress pressed forward and leapt straight into the anomaly.

Everything changed the moment she passed the tree line. The world suddenly brightened as the fiery night gave way to a warm, sunny breeze.

Claire slithered backwards and watched the horn distort and fade as she got further and further away. It was a strange, almost mesmerizing sight. She was tempted to move back and forth just to watch the flaming iron construct shift between its various forms, but her attention was stolen away. Backpedaling was a task that was far more difficult as a lyrkress than it had been as a halfbreed. Focusing on her proprioception threw it out of tune; the harder she concentrated, the clunkier her body became.

Moving her feet, midsection, and tail in tandem made her feel like she was juggling a dozen different tasks all at once. Her tail would get stuck on a branch every time she paid her feet too much attention, and her body would find itself mysteriously tied up and tangled every time it slipped her mind. Centring her consciousness on the snakier parts of her frame proved equally ineffective. Her legs constantly wound up tripping on random bits of foliage.

It took a few minutes for the rogue to master the awkward motion. Leading with her tail went from an unintuitive nightmare to just another relatively simple action. She’d become capable of leaping backwards and doing flips, and it had only cost her a few dozen embarrassing missteps. It was only by good fortune that no one was watching.

“Wow, Claire, you look really different! You’re a lot bigger and snakier now. Congrats on ascending, I guess!”

A familiar fox popped out of a nearby bush. She was surrounded on all sides by magical notes and floating bubbles of various sizes, each of which contained a fish and just enough water to keep it alive.

“Sylvia.” The lyrkress slowly tore her eyes from her hooves and turned them to the orange furball.

“Yup! That’s me! What were you doing just now anyway?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure? It looked a bit like a weird dance.”

“It was nothing” insisted the lyrkress, with a flutter of the ears. “How long have you been here? I didn’t hear you.”

“That’s because of my magic! I wanted to see if I could startle you, so I tried silencing my steps,” said the vixen, with a giggle.

“It didn’t work.”

“Oh, shush! You don’t need to rub it in.”

“Too bad.” She approached the fox with her eyes cold.

“Is it just me, or do you seem kinda mad?” asked Sylvia, with a nervous, backward step. “And why are you so quiet all of a sudden? Can you say something? It’s kinda freaking me out.”

The vixen took another few steps back before spinning around and breaking into a run, but despite her best efforts, she was unable to escape. Claire suddenly appeared in front of her and lifted her by the nape.

“Gotcha.”

“Wow! That’s totally unfair! You’re way faster than you were before,” complained the fox, who found herself pulled into a hug.

“Can you shut up already? Your voice is grating.”

“Wait, so are you happy to see me or not? You’re sending some pretty mixed messa—.”

“I know. Now shut up,” said Claire, as she gave the fox another squeeze. “Just for a bit.”

“Uhhhmmm… alright. I can try, I guess.”

After getting one final phrase out of her system, Sylvia pressed her paws over her mouth and kept relatively quiet as she turned her eyes to a bubble featuring the half-snake’s reflection. She nearly started mouthing off each time she noted a major difference, but cut herself short with a breath each time.

“Is that enough? I’m starting to get kinda bored,” complained the furball, after a brief delay.

“Just five more minutes,” said Claire.

“Five minutes is way too long! And isn’t that something people normally say when they don’t want to get out of bed?”

“Good idea. I should sleep.”

Stifling a yawn with the tip of her tail, Claire stamped down the foliage around her and made a makeshift bed.

“That’s a terrible idea! It’s gonna turn really soon. You’re gonna get stuck running into mirewulves if you don’t find yourself some shelter.”

“I’ll deal with it when it happens.”

“I really don’t think you should! Mirewulves are super tough!”

“It’ll be fine.”

Lying down atop the grassy patch, the lyrkress tucked the fox into the space between the ground and her hips and rested her head in her arms.

“Uhmmm… Claire? I’m kinda stuck.”

“I know.”

“Then can you move over a bit? It’s not very comfortable.”

“No.”

“Thank—wait, why not!?”

“Alfred said something about foxes and pillows,” she said, with another yawn.

“I don’t know what he said, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t what he meant! You’re gonna crush me!” Sylvia started hitting Claire’s back with her tail, but to no avail. The soft, bushy feather duster only made the other halfbreed even sleepier.

“You’ll be fine. Catgirls don’t break that easily.”

“I’m a fox, not a catgirl!”

“I know.”

“Then can you move, please? It’s really hard to breathe.”

“Just reinforce your skeleton with magic.”

“I mean, I could, I guess, but tha—wait a second! How did you know I could do that?”

“I knew a bard that does most of the same things you do.”

“Really? That’s weird. My class is really rare, and I didn’t even know there was a non-Llystletein variant,” said Sylvia. “Besides, that doesn’t make this any better! You can’t just lie on top of me because you know I’ll be okay!”

“Can you shut up already? I just need a few minutes to fall asleep. I’ll get you some fish when I wake up.”

“Oh, sur—hey, wait a second! I already have a bunch of fish right here! And how the heck did you know that you could totally bribe me with fish anywa—” Sylvia’s face paled as she realized that the other girl had closed her eyes. “Wait, wait! Stop! Don’t fall asleep for real! What the heck, Claire! Claaaaaire!”

“Zzzz…”

“You do know people don’t actually say ‘Zzzz’ in their sleep, right?”

“‘Zzzz,’ snored the halfbreed.”

“That’s not any better! People who are asleep can’t tell you that they’re snoring, and you don’t even actually snore!”

“I don’t?” Claire opened her eyes and furrowed her brows. “Both my parents snored.”

“Nope! You just sleeptalk. Oh yeah, that reminds me… I’ve finally figured out what you are,” said Sylvia, after humming a quick tune to stop herself from suffocating. “You lied when you said you weren’t a deer! You’re a cervitaur!”

“A moose is not a deer,” said Claire.

“It totally is!”

“A moose is not a deer,” repeated the halfbreed, with a hiss. “Our bodies aren’t so frail that we’ll die from tiny stray arrows.”

“Okay, okay, fine. You’re a moose, whatever! You’re still a cervitaur!”

“What gave it away?” asked the moose, with a roll of the eyes. “Maybe the legs? Or, I don’t know, the ears?”

“Huh? The ears were supposed to give it away?”

“Yes.”

“Really? Are you sure? They’re like three times the size of the biggest centaur ears I’ve ever seen, deer, moose, or horse.”

“That just means mine are attractive.” Claire got up off the ground, lifted the fox to face level and fluttered the fluffy appendages.

Had Sylvia been a centaur, she likely would have found her face dyed red. But as a vixen, she was left to blink thrice in confusion.

“Aren't centaur ears supposed to be thicker near the middle? Yours are completely straight.”

“That just means mine are attractive.”

“You can’t just say the exact same thing twice.”

“Well, I did.”

“And plus, size and shape are basically the defining traits! Yours are so different they look almost nothing like centaur ears anymore!”

Claire shook her head. “They’re still centaur ears. They’re just very pretty centaur ears,” she insisted. “My father managed to financially ruin someone once by selling him a painting of my ears.”

“Uhmmm, somehow I think there are a few too many things wrong with that for me to know where I’m supposed to start,” said the fox. “But anyway! Your bottom half is completely uncovered! Who’s indecent for not wearing clothes now?”

“You.”

“Huh?” Sylvia blinked. Thrice. “You were supposed to say you!”

“I did.”

“I mean me!”

“Yes, you are indecent.”

“No I’m no—wait, this isn’t going right at all! You were supposed to say that neither of us is indecent!”

“I’m not indecent. My scales are covering everything.”

“My fur is covering everything too!”

“But what if you meet someone with an unhealthy interest in fur?”

“What if you run into someone that has a scale fetish?”

“Then I can just do this.”

After taking a breath, Claire reverted her body to the form it had prior to her ascension.

“Your clothes still fit? That’s not fair at all!”

“I know,” said Claire, with a small smile.

“Anyway! I’m not indecent! All foxes look like this. We’re not supposed to wear clothes.”

“Uh huh.” The lyrkress undid her transformation and put the fox back beneath her hips.

“We really aren't! It’d be way more lewd to put clothes on a fox! Imagine if some weirdo made me wear stockings or something! That’d be really gross… You’d at least have to agree with that, right?”

The vixen’s query went unanswered. Looking back towards one of her bubbles, she noted that Claire’s eyes were once again sealed shut—and that her breathing had slowed.

“Claire…? Did you really fall asleep?” She waited for a few moments before breathing a sigh of relief. “I guess that means I can finally escape.” A soft orange glow enveloped Sylvia’s body as she shrank to fairy size. Ears, fangs, and tail aside, her colouration was all that remained of her vulpine nature.

“So that’s how you got out of those ropes…”

“Eek!” Sylvia spun around with a start, nearly leaping out of her skin. “What the heck!? You’re still awake? What happened to falling asleep!”

“I was pretending,” said Claire, who immediately averted her gaze. “And you’re still naked.”

“Oh, shut up! It’s not like I wanted to be naked, I just don’t have anything to wear right now! My clothes don’t fit when I transform!”

“Indecent.” Claire chuckled lightly as she sat up and got to her feet.

“I’m not indecent! I was just trying to escape!” said Sylvia, as she changed back into a fox.

“I believe you,” said Claire, as she cracked her neck. “Let’s go back to the hollow. I need to catch up on sleep.”

“You’re being really mean… but okay. I’ll show you right there!”

Sylvia pranced off, with the other halfbreed following right behind her.

The pace was quick at first, but the lyrkress slowed after a few minutes of travel. “Claire? What’s wrong?” asked the fox, as she turned around.

“I think I finally have an answer to your question.”

“Huh? Which question?”

“The one about what I’m going to do when I leave.”

“When you leave...? Oh! That question! Wait, were you thinking about that this whole time?”

“I don’t see why that matters.” Claire closed her eyes and lightly clenched her fists “I was thinking about confronting my father, at first. Maybe even stabbing him in the face, if I got the chance.”

“Is that because of the whole sacrifice thing?”

Claire nodded.

“Well uhmmm… you said at first, so I guess that means you changed your mind, right? What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to keep running away.”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Once I get out of here, I’m going to go somewhere far, far away,” explained the halfbreed. “I’ll open up a nice little shop in a quaint little town and buy a cozy little villa on top of a big, tall hill. He’ll never find me, and I’ll never have to think about him again.”

“Mmmnnn… I mean, that sounds kinda nice and all, but is it really gonna be that easy?”

“Of course not.” Claire twisted her lips into a faint smile. “I don’t know how long it’ll take to finally forget the way he raised me.”

She took a deep breath as she ran a finger across the icy shard in her chest and gazed upon the face reflected within it.

For once, there was no anxiety.

She was calm, calmer than she had been in a long, long time.

“But one day, I will.”