Traebus gawked at her, completely dumbfounded. "I’m human. What do you mean, what am I? What else would I be?"

  Then, for the first time, he really looked at Vaelya.

  She stood just a little shorter than him, her posture relaxed yet alert. Her deep green eyes—sharp, intelligent, unwavering—held a quiet intensity, studying him as if she were trying to see past his very skin. Her deep brown hair, nearly black, was braided back tightly to keep it out of her face, though stray strands had come loose around her pointed ears.

  Her fair skin had an almost alabaster quality, like stone washed smooth by time, yet somehow it blended into the surrounding shadows and light effortlessly, as if nature itself had designed her to disappear when she wished.

  She was beautiful, in a way that felt untouched by civilization, something belonging to the deep woods and forgotten myths.

  And she was looking at him like he was the strange one.

  Traebus let out a breath and ran a hand down his face. "Oh, fantastic. We’re having a full existential moment now, aren’t we?"

  Vaelya frowned slightly, tilting her head as if considering something. "I have never seen one like you before."

  Traebus let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, well, join the club. Apparently, I’m a rare specimen."

  She ignored his sarcasm, instead stepping closer, studying him with a quiet curiosity. "I have traveled to many places. More than a dozen villages in my lifetime, some large, some small. I have seen many faces. Many kinds of people. None of them were like you."

  That gave him pause. "You’re telling me you’ve never seen another human before?"

  Vaelya shook her head. "Not like you. The ones I have known are... different."

  Traebus narrowed his eyes. "Different how?"

  She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "They are... as we are. They do not wear things like this—" she gestured to his clothes, the rings, the reinforced boots. "They do not shape stone and metal as you do. And they do not... call the world to move at their command."

  "Call the world—?" Traebus rubbed his temples. "Are you talking about magic? Because, yeah, I do that. It’s kind of my thing."

  Vaelya pursed her lips. "Magic is known. But not as you wield it. It is... subtle. Yours is not."

  Traebus smirked. "What can I say? I like to make an entrance."

  She ignored that too, instead folding her arms. "Where do you come from, Traebus? What place makes people like you?"

  He exhaled, crossing his own arms. "Well, that’s a bit of a long story. But since I saved your life, I guess I can share a little." He leaned against the nearest wall. "I come from a place very far from here. A place where magic and machines work together. A place where we don’t just walk places—we fly. We build cities that touch the clouds. We don’t have to weave our clothes by hand—we have machines that do it for us. And as for ‘shaping stone and metal’—we build towers out of them. And we don’t use fire pits to cook—we just press a button and get fire on command."

  Vaelya listened, her face carefully neutral, but he could see the way her fingers tightened against her arms, how her expression flickered between intrigue and uncertainty.

  "You speak as if you are from another world," she said slowly.

  Traebus let out a breath. "Yeah. Well. Funny thing about that..."

  He pushed off the wall and gestured vaguely around the room. "I didn’t exactly walk here. I came through a portal—a magic gateway. One that shouldn’t have worked, but it did. And now I’m here, stuck in the middle of gods-know-where, fighting lizard wolves and apparently confusing the locals."

  Vaelya’s brows furrowed. "A... portal? You stepped through a door?"

  Traebus nodded. "More like fell through it, but yeah. One second I was in my world, working on some really complicated magic, and the next, boom—free fall into another reality. It was not a fun experience, by the way. I wouldn’t recommend it."

  She remained silent, her expression unreadable. But Traebus could see it—the small tightening of her jaw, the way her fingers gripped her arms, how she stood just a little stiffer than before.

  She wasn’t just skeptical. She was stressed.

  "Look," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I get that this sounds insane. But I’m not making it up. I’m just as confused as you are. I have no idea why I landed here, or what this place even is."

  Vaelya’s lips pressed together before she finally spoke. "There is no such magic. No ‘door’ between worlds. That is a tale told to children, nothing more."

  Traebus let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, trust me, I’d love for it to be a fairy tale, but sadly, reality disagrees. I’m standing right here, aren’t I?"

  She opened her mouth as if to argue, then stopped. He could see it—the way her thoughts clashed, the skepticism warring with the evidence right in front of her.

  Finally, her shoulders dropped slightly, and she shook her head. "I do not understand."

  "Yeah? Well, welcome to my entire life, Vaelya."

  Traebus frowned, rubbing his temple. He had yet to test his identifier ring on anything living—mostly because the last time he used it, it nearly killed him. But curiosity gnawed at him. If he was very, very specific, he might be able to get just enough information without completely draining himself dry.

  Stepping back slightly, he exhaled. "Alright, just a heads-up—gonna do some magic. Try not to freak out."

  Vaelya blinked, opening her mouth to question him, but before she could protest, he lifted his hand and activated the Nekrium ring.

  The effect was instant.

  A flood of information crashed into his mind, almost too much, like a dam had broken and the knowledge was trying to drown him. He gritted his teeth, narrowing the request in his thoughts, forcing the ring to focus only on what he needed.

  Vaelya. Race: Sylvan Elf. Age: 237 years. Village Affiliation: Formerly of the Lir’Vahli Grove.

  The ring wanted to give him more—he could feel it pulling, trying to deluge him with details down to her biological structure, genetic composition, even the very arrangement of her atoms.

  Nope. Too much. Shut it down.

  With a sharp exhale, Traebus forcibly cut the flow of mana, severing the connection before it could consume him completely. He staggered back a step, shaking his head as his vision steadied.

  He glanced up at Vaelya, who had gone very still. Her sharp green eyes were locked onto him, her expression unreadable.

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  "Well," he rasped, still catching his breath. "That worked. Kind of."

  Vaelya’s expression shifted, her brows furrowing. "What did you do?"

  Traebus, still a little lightheaded, waved a hand dismissively. "Uh, well, think of it like… reading a book really fast. But instead of pages, it's all the information about you, shoved directly into my brain at once. Wasn’t fun, by the way."

  Her frown deepened. "You looked like you were in pain."

  "Yeah, because I was." He rubbed his forehead. "Turns out trying to learn everything about a person in two seconds is bad for you. Who knew?"

  Vaelya didn’t look particularly reassured, but before she could press further, Traebus sighed. "Anyway, I think I need to not have my brain fried for a bit. What do you want to do now?"

  She hesitated, her expression unreadable again before she finally spoke. "I will stay here. For now. I must think on what I have learned."

  That surprised him. "You’re just gonna… stay? Like that?"

  Vaelya nodded. "The nearest village is days away on foot. And I do not know what waits for me there. Here, I know what I face."

  Traebus gave her a long look, then shrugged. "Alright. You can stay. But if you’re gonna be here, you help out. No freeloading."

  She tilted her head slightly, then nodded once. "Agreed."

  Satisfied, Traebus motioned for her to leave the lab, following behind her and sealing the vault door once more. He didn’t want her—or anyone—poking around inside unsupervised.

  After locking it, he stretched, feeling his body finally beginning to recover. He started walking toward the gate, his mind still sorting through everything he had learned.

  Behind him, Vaelya turned back toward the well, resuming whatever task he had interrupted. As he walked, he caught her glance back at him briefly, her expression unreadable before she returned to her work. He exhaled sharply and turned his attention back to the destroyed gate, the weight of everything still pressing heavily on his thoughts.

  Dusk appeared beside him, silent and waiting.

  "Alright, buddy," Traebus muttered, glancing down at the large lizard. "We have a new houseguest. And I just found out she’s a lot older than she looks."

  Dusk tilted his head slightly, waiting. Traebus took a deep breath, still feeling the aftereffects of the identifier ring, and finally spoke. "Alright, so here’s what I found out. Our new friend here is a Sylvan Elf, which explains why she looks like she belongs in some deep, enchanted forest and not the middle of a death jungle. She’s also... older than I expected. Like, a couple hundred years old kind of older."

  Dusk flicked his tail, the closest thing to interest Traebus had ever seen from him.

  "Yeah, I know. 237 years. Almost a quarter of a millennium. Puts my three decades of existence to shame, really." He rolled his shoulders, still feeling the lingering strain in his muscles. "Her village was called Lir’Vahli Grove, which, I assume, is long gone based on what she told me earlier. Which makes me wonder if there are more villages or if we’re dealing with some scattered remnants of civilization."

  Dusk chuffed, a knowing sound.

  "Yeah, that’s where my concern starts too. Because, let’s be honest—when she said ‘village,’ I got a little excited at the thought of civilization finally showing up." Traebus let out a slow breath. "But a village? That’s not ideal. I was hoping for a city, infrastructure, maybe an actual forge and not just whatever I cobble together with magic and elbow grease. If all I’ve got are scattered villages, then I’ve really stepped into a primitive world."

  Dusk remained silent, watching him carefully.

  "But," Traebus continued, rubbing his chin, "she did mention that magic isn’t unknown here, which tells me there’s more going on than I initially thought. She may not have seen people like me before, but if magic exists—even in a ‘subtle’ way—then there’s potential. If there are more people, then there’s possibility. Possibility to expand, build, learn."

  His mind briefly flickered to something else—a complex project from his past, something he had succeeded in long before his forced arrival in this world. Something groundbreaking.

  Dusk’s frills twitched slightly, catching the stray thought. A flicker of a term slipped through their bond before Traebus could stop it.

  Immortal.

  Instantly, he purged it from his mind, locking it away as if it had never been there. His breath came out a little too sharp, his hands flexing at his sides. "Nope. Not thinking about that. You didn’t hear anything."

  Dusk didn’t react immediately, but there was an undeniable knowing weight in his gaze.

  "I mean it," Traebus muttered. "Some things are too dangerous to even think about. So forget it."

  Dusk exhaled through his nose, but if he had any thoughts on the matter, he didn’t share them.

  Traebus let out a slow breath and turned his attention back to the destroyed gate. The stone was cracked, splintered where the creatures had slammed into it, but still somewhat intact. A mess, but a fixable one.

  He lifted his hand, checking the battery ring on his finger. To his surprise, it was already a quarter full.

  "Huh. That was fast." He flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders, then reached for the stored mana. He could work with this.

  As he channeled the energy, the gate shuddered, stone groaning as he forced the fractures back together, sealing the gaps. The ground vibrated slightly as the magic rebound effect pushed against his will, but he held firm, reinforcing the weak points as he guided the repair process.

  "You know," Traebus said, glancing at Dusk with a smirk, "I’m honestly a little surprised nothing tried to eat us while the gate was wide open. Would’ve been a real cherry on top of my recovery."

  Dusk sent a series of images into his mind.

  Remnants of the predator pack, creeping back under the cover of darkness. Snapping jaws, clawed feet scraping against the stone, Sparky leaping between enemies, bolts of lightning arcing through the night. Dusk himself, tearing into them when they got too close.

  Traebus let out a low whistle. "Hells, you and Sparky really held the line, huh? I knew you two made a good team, but damn."

  Dusk flicked his tail in what might have been satisfaction.

  That thought reminded Traebus of something else. He glanced around, suddenly realizing one of his companions was missing.

  "Wait. Speaking of Sparky—where the hell did he go?"

  Dusk flicked his frills and sent a series of mental impressions Traebus’s way.

  An image of Sparky, darting through the jungle, weaving between thick roots and undergrowth with his usual erratic energy. Another of him climbing a tree, peering out toward the vast wilderness beyond their small domain, his little body crackling with stored electricity. And yet another, of him stalking some unseen prey, moving low and controlled—a hunter in his own right.

  Traebus huffed, shaking his head. "So either he’s scouting, hunting, or just doing whatever the hell Sparky does when he’s left unsupervised. Fantastic."

  Dusk chuffed in agreement, sending one last image—Sparky, standing triumphantly atop a fallen predator, tiny sparks dancing across his frills like a victorious battle cry.

  Traebus smirked. "Yeah, that checks out.

  Still, the gate itself wasn’t enough. Not really. It had held, sure, but only just. If the predators had kept at it, if there had been more of them, they might’ve gotten through before he or Tank could react. That was not a risk he wanted to take again.

  He crossed his arms, tapping his fingers against his forearm as he thought through his options. Stone alone was good, but it wasn’t perfect. He needed more than just a barrier—he needed reinforcement. Something stronger. Something better.

  His mind drifted back to the cave system. The materials there could help—if he could get Tank down into the tunnels, they could haul back more than just a handful of supplies this time.

  Which meant... expanding the stairwell. And the cave entrance itself.

  Tank had proven remarkably capable on thin pathways, but even goat-footed absurdity had its limits. He could climb the stairs as they were now, but there was no way the three-horn would fit into a cave entrance half his size. That meant excavation. A lot of it.

  As he contemplated just how much work that was going to take, a familiar trill echoed from beyond the gate.

  Sparky.

  The small lightning lizard zipped up the wall like a bolt of living energy, landing triumphantly atop the battlements before chirping loudly and scampering down toward him.

  Traebus opened the gate just enough for the little menace to slip inside. The moment he did, Sparky immediately began zipping around him, sniffing, nudging, inspecting for wounds or weak spots, as if expecting him to still be on the verge of death.

  Traebus let him do his little medical examination before rolling his eyes. "Oh yeah, I’m fine, thanks for checking. You’re a real doctor, Sparky. Maybe next time, try not electrocuting me while you fuss over me."

  Sparky ignored him, chirped in satisfaction, and then darted off again—straight onto Tank’s back, where he flopped down dramatically, basking in the sun like he’d just conquered the world.

  Traebus sighed, shaking his head as he glanced at Dusk. "So. Back to the cave system?"

  Dusk flicked his tail in silent agreement.

  "Yeah," Traebus muttered, already running through the logistics in his head. "This time, we’re bringing the big guy with us."

  But not today. The sun was already beginning its descent, casting long shadows across the jungle. By his best guess, it was mid-afternoon, and he wasn’t about to start a major excavation project with limited daylight left.

  With a sigh, he turned back toward the house, but Vaelya intercepted him before he could reach the door. Her expression was serious, but not unfriendly.

  "Your home has no real beds," she said, matter-of-factly.

  Traebus blinked. "Yeah? And?"

  "The mats I made are fine for rest," she continued, "but they are not enough. There are no furs for warmth."

  That caught his attention. He hadn’t given much thought to nighttime temperatures, mostly because he had bigger things to worry about—like getting eaten. But now that she mentioned it, the nights had been colder than expected.

  She crossed her arms. "The jungle is hot, but the night is not. You know this."

  Traebus grimaced. Yeah, he knew it. Too well. He could still remember crouching in the mud and rain with Dusk, trying to avoid the Apex Predator that had been stalking them. That night had been miserable.

  "Alright, fair point," he admitted. "I’ll at least get some blankets made."

  Vaelya frowned slightly. "Blankets?"