Thigi wakes up first from the dogpile, and, unluckily on the bottom, kicks and squirms until the others wake. The hot sun has been replaced with the frigid, remote moon, and the ocean breeze chills the adventurers to the bone. Having run out of food stores some four days ago, the travelers wearily trudge over to tall, luscious, green seagrass, that not even Poole knows the type, and begin to eat. The grass fills the group quickly, and sends a new strength flowing in their veins.

Newly energized, Poole finds the map of the Strange Lands in Erve’s saddlebag on the boat, and they begin their trek for the Bronze Spire. With painfully loud coughs, Onewe trails at the back of the group with Gutu, while Poole and Seehea lead eagerly ahead. After about a week of uneventful walking and stopping, the adventurers stop short and gape in awe. Horses, with manes of fire, frolic through grassy fields, setting them ablaze as they run, and Trouse takes a step back.

“Are they nice?” he whispers cautiously, and Poole tries to remain composed,

“Uh… yeah. They’re fire horses. They’re just like horses, but with flaming manes and tails.”

“Just like horses,” Gole says sarcastically, and Thigi steps in,

“How close are we to the Bronze Spire?” she demands, and Poole looks down at his map,

“You are holding it upside down.” Seehea remarks, and Poole reddens,

“I am not! In the Strange Lands, directions become reversed. North is south, and east is west,” He explains crossly, before starting off, leading the group once more, and they follow without any more questions.

After about another week the silence is broken by the girl doub shouting fearfully in Do from Gutu’s back, and all the travelers freeze. Quickly recovering, Onewe hurries to check on the girl, and they discover a large, black butterfly with lustrous wings sitting on her nose.

“That’s quite a butterfly,” Gole snorts as she callously swats the insect off the doub girl’s face, and a swarm of glowing butterflies congregate around them as they continue their trek.

The butterflies especially like Trouse and climb in his hair. They perch on his face and shoulders as he works his way through the tall grass.

“You seem to have found some new friends,” Gole says nonchalantly as she passes beside him, lifting her tail proudly into the air, where a butterfly sits perched on top, and Trouse huffs.

“I have plenty as is,” he says, and blows the butterflies off his face.

For a couple more weeks, the group travels along, eventually leaving the terrain of the butterflies, and entering a seemingly uninhabited grassland. Hunger begins to gnaw at them, and they stop.

“Anybody have food ideas?” Gole asks, just as Trouse is headbutted in the knees.

“Whoa!” he shouts as he falls forward into the tall grass, and a small brown cat with hazel eyes and rounded ram horns leaps onto his back.

It glares down at him defiantly while he’s down and lets out a triumphant meow.

“Woah there, feisty,” Poole laughs as he leans down and picks the cat up.

Thigi helps Trouse to his feet, and Poole gives the cat to Onewe. Onewe tickles the cat’s stomach and smiles,

“You strange thing. You any friends?” she coos, and the cat swats at her hand.

“A horned cat?” Gole asks, clearly not impressed, and Onewe sets down the cat.

“Sharp claws. Not good cat,” she says, blowing on her cut hand, and Thigi’s stomach growls,

“Isn’t there anything for us to eat?” She groans, and Gole snorts,

“Yeah, the cat,” she replies sarcastically, and the cat’s ears perk up.

It launches into the grass, and a shrill squeak sounds out. The cat returns with a mouse and begins to eat in front of Trouse’s feet.

“Well, there is either mouse, or grass.” Seehea says as the glishen plops down and starts eating the grass.

Seehea makes a move to untie the doub girl on Gutu’s back, and the group freezes.

“She’s not very nice, Seehea. Not a good idea.” Gutu says as he steps away from Seehea, and Seehea frowns.

“Neither is Gole, and she is leading us along. We cannot drag this girl across Nearth and back. She will die if she never gets to walk,” he challenges, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the group.

“First off, no, I’m not very nice. Second off, you were the one who wanted to sell her as a slave! Why the change of heart?” Gole scowls, and Seehea crosses his arms,

“I do not like her, but at least as a slave she could have the chance to run away. Currently, she is strapped to the back of a dog, and she has been so for a long time. What will we do with her when we return to Nearth? Put her in a prison? In the Strange Lands, she could be free, but she would also be unable to call the dogs on us.”

“That seems reasonable. The Strange Lands seem like a nice place to live. She wouldn’t be able to hurt our quest either. There’s only one of her and… a lot of us.” Trouse adds on helpfully, and Poole tilts his head,

“You don’t know how to count?” he asks in surprise, and Thigi snaps her fingers,

“Focus, guys. This is a serious debate.”

“There no argument. We release her,” Onewe says, coughing weakly, and Seehea nods.

“Gutu, come here. I must free her,” he commands the dog, who hesitantly obeys, crouching down so Seehea can reach the girl.

“Trouse, where are your knife-gauntlets? Do not try to fool me, I know a pair when I see them,” Seehea says, and Trouse’s face heats up.

“Let me grab them,” he mutters as he digs in Erve’s saddlebag, which Gole is now carrying, and slips on the gauntlets.

He clenches his hands, and the blades spring out.

“You mean those were right against my stomach?!” Gole exclaims, and Trouse grimaces,

“Sorry, Gole. I didn’t even think about that.”

“Too late now. Anyways, no harm was done. Release the prisoner,” Thigi commands, and Trouse steps forwards to the doub girl.

She mistakes his intentions and screams loudly. She thrashes about, and Gutu barks at her in Do until she is still. Then Trouse uneasily cuts the rope, and the girl slides off Gutu’s back.

“Well, that is done. Let us eat,” Seehea announces as he joins the glishen in munching on the grass, and Onewe cautiously steps to the doub girl.

The girl glares up at Onewe, but is too weak to stand, much less attack her.

“She need meat.” Onewe states, and Gutu barks happily,

“Gutu happily hunt cats!”

“No, you don’t!” Gole yowls, and Gutu’s tail goes in between his legs,

“Gutu meant rats,” he whimpers, and Gole bares her teeth.

“That had better be what Gutu meant.”

No more words are shared after this exchange, and the group divides between those who hunt the mice, and those who eat the grass. Once everyone has their fill, and the sun begins to rise, the group gathers together once more, leaving the doub girl to hunt in the fields and be free.

“How much further to the Bronze Spire?” Trouse asks, and Poole looks down at the map solemnly.

“Seven miles, according to this map.”

“We’re too close to stop now. Let’s go,” Thigi says, and the group starts out again without hesitation.

Poole leads the group across grasslands until they reach a cluster of tall trees and enter them. On the other side of the trees, a towering, gleaming, bronze-colored spire shimmers like a beacon in the now afternoon sun, with dark water streaming down it like a tremendous waterfall, splitting off into two large rivers. These rivers then wind all throughout the Strange Lands, then down to the Great Ocean, and finally, to Nearth.

“The Bronze Spire,” Seehea says, gaping in wonder up at the tip of the spire, way up in the sky.

An unearthly bark catches the group’s attention, and they look down sharply. Around the base of the spire, pale tomen patrol in neat columns, unaware of the adventurer’s presence, and the glishen steps forwards to go visit them.

“No!” Gole whispers as she yanks the glishen back by the shirt, and the glishen tears up.

“If he cries loudly right now, we’re all going to die,” Poole whispers urgently, and Trouse looks around desperately.

“I’ll lead them away,” he says suddenly, and bursts out of the trees before the others can stop him.

He waits until he’s a few feet away before shouting,

“Hey tomen! Come and get me!”

Immediately, all the tomen around the spire turn and chase after Trouse. Trouse turns and runs away from the group. The others watch in horror and amazement at Trouse’s stupid bravery.

“Come on! We do not have long then!” Seehea whispers urgently, prodding the others to move, and Gole attempts to chase after Trouse.

Gutu tackles her down, and Poole whispers,

“Come on, Gole! It’s now or never! It’s too late to help Trouse now! You can’t run off and doom our mission! This is what we came for!”

Gole lets out a mournful mew, but slowly rises.

“I have something to cut through the wall. If my sources were correct, there is a staircase on the inside that winds up the spire until you reach the top. Then we will put the bonny lily in, and Nearth will be saved,” Seehea says seriously as he pulls a small, wavy piece of metal out of his pocket, and the group turns to face the spire.

“Let’s finish this,” Thigi says gravely, and takes a step towards the tower.