“ Your patience is thin, so I will be as direct as possible.” — By Alex Mell-Taylor Mateo whittled a stick with a hunter’s knife he always carried with him — an old metal blade made of an inefficient alloy that was static in form. …

“Don’t say, son. Whatever you do, don’t say, son…” — The person in front of Calisto did not seem happy to see them. Calisto was sitting in a recently reassembled tent, waiting for Chief Shepherd Úna. Sam, the person who had been tasked to keep Calisto company, was very agitated, thumping their foot against the ground impatiently as they waited. …

“How could this have happened? Why on Gaia’s green Earth had life done this to her?” — She had just seen their son a day ago. Rowan remembered squeezing her son’s hand tightly, not wanting to let go. Halden was all packed for his voyage to the Bangalore Collective. His certificate of approval was in hand. They were standing on McMillian pier — a giant, pre-Fall construction…

“Did someone die or something?” — Mateo made his way through the unmarked forest. Even after all this time, he still loved exploring the ever-shifting topography of the woods. Life be praised, he loved his job. There was no better thrill as a scout than experiencing a place for the first time, untouched by the many…