Is it?

I pull myself from my sleeping bag slowly, looking around to see if anyone else was up yet. Both Scott and Klyde were still asleep; the latter snoring loud enough I'm surprised the former isn't bleeding from the ears. Peeking from the tent, I see only one figure outside, wearing a large hat, sitting on a large stone; dawn's new sunlight peaking through branches overhead. I make my way to greet her, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

"Hey Zana." I whisper, taking a seat by the Sorcerer. "Good morning."

She jolts at my sudden appearance, moving her arms from her lap and behind her back. "Oh! M-Monster. You scared me..."

"Sorry."

"It's fine..." Zana then puts her hand back into her lap, returning to what she was doing earlier; examining her new limb.

"So... how's the arm." I ask, wanting to pass the time till everyone was up for breakfast.

"I... love it." She says; wincing.

Oh damn it, I shouldn't have said anything.

I reach for her shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't think..."

She pulls her hat down over her face. "It's fine! You aren't the one who... c-cut it off."

A stabbing sensation stings my chest; even still, it's me the Twins and my Others were after...

"Mostly... I miss Anaz." She says, moving closer to me. "...and after what you told me about what happened; with your Others, and that Song... with that 'Un-Oz' thing..."

I could recall the horrified look on Zana's face back then, in my room at the Runacathy. When she heard of that stitched together body; her lost hand being part of its creation. Even worse was when we told the others... Ashes almost burst into either tears, or a fit of rage; I'm still not sure which.

Zana leans into me, her voice cracking. "How am I supposed to be me... when half of me is missing..."

I rest my arm over her shoulder, gently. "I ask myself the same thing."

As time passes; I get a good look at the woodland around us. The grass is rather lush, if a bit dry compared to the humid areas of Tomo and Saltmoore. I hear the distant sounds of birds chirping, as well as the odd "Ook"s and "Braaa"s of the wildlife, although I didn't spot anything from where we sat. Of all the things, the trees confused me the most; the leaves, more specicially, had begun to change color.

Hold on... Logic thought it might be Summer back in Saltmoore... maybe we were at the tail end of Summer... What comes after Summer... Wait, what's Summer? Is that an Earth thing, or a Ruyanei thing? Ugh...

Eventually, the others began rising from their slumber, and once Ashes was up, she went to work on breakfast for the party. Klyde was second to last to wake, with Scott still in bed; has to be a heavy sleeper to deal with that snoring...

"What's for brekkie?" He asks jokingly; only for the rest of us to stare in confusion. "Right, different planet... no Britain... I mean 'What's for breakfast.'"

"Well, we have oatmeal." Says Ashes, stirring the now re-lit pot. "And Cilla has some neat little coffee doohickey in the tent."

Scott stumbles from the tent, yawning. "Good, I could use some..."

"Where does she even get these things?" I ask; waving my hand vaguely at the tents.

Gabriella stopped staring daggers at the pot out of hunger. "Well, she is a Runacathy Operative. They're well paid, as you'd expect from an group funded by a dragon's hoard the size of Runa Ruya's."

Cilla began periodically coming from the tent, handing out two mugs of coffee each time she popped out. Finally, she handed the last mug to me, and sat down with her own; just as Ashes finished our meal. It was much like last night, a pleasant meal; smalk talk, although I would say the conversations were lessened by the drudgery of waking up. Thankfully the coffee sped up the process of going from "flopping corpses" to "functional flesh-puppets."

Finishing his bowl and mug, Klyde put the two down gently. "So... I've been with you peeps a pretty short time."

The group turns to him as he continues. "I was wondering, what're you guys even... doing? I know you're headed to Hoctin; but... what then?"

Gabbie shuffles in her seat; unspoken words prompting Ariel to manifest. "Well, my little sis needs to get there to assume the title of Emissary, receive training, and then... I dunno. It's up to her to do what she wishes with my power."

Sammy begins wigging and swaying about; raising her hand like it's one of Cilla's lesson sessions.

"Teacher" responds as if it were just that. "Yes, Sammy?"

The slime smiles wide at hearing her handler say her name. "Ooo! Well, I wanna learn stuff, and punch stuff, and eat stuff, and punch stuff, and find Creator, and punch stuff!"

"Wait, what was that last one?" I ask.

"Punch stuff!"

"Before that."

"Eat stuff?"

"Try again."

After a minute of deep thought, Sammy realizes which Instance of "punch stuff" I meant. "Oh! Find Creator... Well, I was made by Creator, and Creator told me 'S.A.M Experiment number blablablablabla, and sent me out to do... something? I got lost, but Old Boss said she knew where Creator was, so I helped her punch you, New Boss."

Processing... processing...

I lean over to Cilla. "Are Slimes usually... made?"

She looks at me with a bit of confusion and worry in her one, uncovered eye. "No... Sammy, when were you planning on telling us this?"

"When you asked, Teacher."

Ashes pats the Slime on the back. "Well, that's kinda like what I wanna do. After Hoctin, I was gonna ask if you guys if we could make a visit to the Sosis Desert. I wanna meet my people... and get our mark." She rubs the back of her neck as she says those last words.

"That tattoo, like marrow had?" I ask.

"Yeah! It's very important for every Mohun to be marked before... you know... uh..."

"Getting married?" Asks Gabbie.

Letting out a sigh, Ashes stretches her arms out to relax. "Dying. It's important to get one before I die."

I hear the wind blowing through the leaves, as our Artisan slowly grows more and more uncomfortable in the silence she created.

She huffs. "Hey, it's not like I plan on dying anytime soon. I'll probably be an old lady when I say hi to the big skeleton in the sky."

Cilla has already produced parchment and a quill. "What purpose does this mark serve? Is it magical? Or is it purely ceremonial?"

"It's a... different kind of mark..."

A different kind of mark...

"A Mark of Submission?" I ask.

Ashes meets my eyes. "A modified version, but yeah. How did you know?"

"It's one of the Divine Miracles that Ariel gave me; along with his Alm, and a Domain."

"What!?" Cilla seems half-prepared to throw me into the woods out of anger. "I bought all this camping equipment, and you have a Domain!? A personal, do whatever you want, pocket reality?!"

Processing... processing...

Oh shit.

Cilla grabs my jaw, shoving her face near mine. "You owe me... so much gold... you, you! You clod! You dolt! You simpleton!"

"Hey now, let's calm down!" Says Scott, who had come to pry the frenzied furball off of my face. "How about we go back to what Klyde was talking about; what we're doing, and whatnot."

After decided not to rip my jaw off, Prissy sat down; arms crossed, with a stern look on her face. "Fine..."

"I'll continue off after Ashes, then." Says Scott; returning to his place around the fire. "After we get to Hoctin, I'll be looking for the Puritanica of Pyurus. The head of her faith. She's likely the only person on Ruyanei who can rid me of my curse."

"And after that?" I ask; rubbing at my now stiff jaw.

Scott pulls a round, chained objeft from his roughed up jacket, and stares at it; what is that? It's not his stopwatch... "Maybe I'll go back to being a tailor. Maybe I'll stay with all of you... I haven't decided yet.

He looks to the huffing and puffing big, bad Prissy. "What about you?"

Letting out a long-held breath, she says. "I'm an Operative of the Runacathy. I will continue to be one until I have my own branch... I'd like to start one in my hometown; Verdhaus."

"When's the promotion?" Asks Ashes.

Cilla begins running her hand across her cloak. "Do you remember how all of the ex-initiates we've met have had a scrap of red cloth? It's from their handler's cloak. Once your cloak can no longer maintain it's enchantment of holding, you are raised to the rank of Mother, or Father, of a branch."

I see Ariel smiling; reminiscing on another time. "Man... Runa really knows how to make something last forever."

I'm surprised to hear Cilla confused. "What do you mean?"

"It happened right after Runa joined our side. She was still beat up from her father's constant ****; there was bad cut across her arm. Tomoko ripped off a chunk of her dress to make a bandage, since Elm refused to heal her. That's probably why you Operatives wear red; same as ol' Tomo."

I hear the crunch of metal, the shattering of glass, and Her scream suddenly stopping.

"Who did this, hon?" I whisper, looking at the bruises on her stomach in horror.

She pulls her shirt back down, dotted by a mix of tears and mascara. "...M-my dad. I ran away, I can't... I can't take it anymore, Danny."

I take hold of her hands, gently; trying my best to contain the raw, unbridled outrage I felt. "I won't let him touch you; ever again. Stay here, with my family. I'll call the police."

I see a cut on her arm, which bled in a constant trickle. "And this?"

"He... threw a bottle when I ran..."

I look around the bathroom for a bandage, but can't find anything. Having enough of today, I simply rip a chunk from my shirt, and splash a bit of disinfectant on it; wrapping it around the cut.

"He'll never hurt you again, Bell."

Bell... Bell... Bell...

"Monster?" Says Cilla, poking me as I slump over. "Are you ok?"

I shake myself wide awake from my memory. "Yes. Fine. I'm fine. Who's next?"

"Zana said pass; didn't you hear her?" Says Cilla. "So I suppose it's your turn."

I take a deep breath; trying to keep calm after my "fit."

"I need to find Her."