My home country is supposedly one of the most beautiful in the north, a sprawling landscape of snow-capped mountains, valleys, tundras, and pine forests all rimmed in frigid bays or steep cliffs. I never saw it as such, only seeing the monotony of white and gray while knowing about the treacherous work that took place within the caverns and tunnels boring through those pristine peaks.

However, as I now stand on the uppermost cliffs of the Fifth Layer, I finally understand the kind of beauty my youthful and naïeve eyes once overlooked. It's like I'm overlooking the bay of my home city from the ridge I wasn't supposed to climb but did so anyways. A flat, steel-gray sheet of water that touches a rocky beach and extends out into the darkness far ahead. The Fifth Layer is the shallowest but widest layer of the Abyss, with the Sea of Corpses seemingly encompassing most of it. I can't see the ebb of the tide from where I stand, but I can see the rolling snowy hills, layered ridges, and clusters of pine trees. If the sky weren't dark, I swear I'd be merely looking at a different section of the bay.

"If only you could see this with your own eyes, Addy," I mutter, taking her into my thick-gloved palm. I'd bought gear for a climate I thought would be colder ages ago, but it now seems to be worth what I spent on it. I would've tried to pull another tone from her, but Bronze Spark is now clasped around my wrist, sending gentle heat through my body. After all, I don't want to set my coat on fire. I sigh, my breath pluming before me in an opaque cloud.

A freezing gale blows against me, whipping my coat out behind me and peppering my hair with specks of snow. I feel the sting of the snow but not the cold, Bronze Spark along with the new layers I'd put on managing to keep it at bay. Meanwhile, Melva still shivers in her coat and gloves, the brown cloak she'd put on pulled tightly around her body.

I give her a worried look. "You can use Bronze Spark if you need to. You're not as used to the cold as I am."

"N-nah, I'm fine," she says around her chattering teeth. "Ya come b-before me, kid."

"And you won't be able to look out for me if you aren't well. You told me this yourself, and you can't be a hypocrite," I say, unclasping the bracelet and holding it out to her. I refuse to pull my hand away until she takes it and puts it on. Her shivering lessens some afterwards, and I smile. "Thank you, Melva."

She scoffs, and then her jaw drops a little. "Ya don't even look cold, an' I'm still shakin'. Were ya born in a damn ice bath or somethin'?"

"Funnily enough, our power went out the day I was born because an avalanche took out part of the city's power station. My grandfather had to deliver me by candlelight," I say with a nervous smile. "Grandpa Len worked by candlelight for decades before the steam and coal brought power to our cities, so he was used to it."

"I forgot ya were named after your gramps," Melva says, shaking her head. "But I guess this place has some kinda nostalgia for ya?"

My smile fades some, though it still remains. "It does... and it's almost nice. The seagulls would always fly over the bay at dawn, crowing up a racket as loud as a rooster. I swear I can almost hear them—" I stop when a distant trill rings out. At least it somewhat sounds like one, a bird's trill combined with a joyful-sounding whoop. I search where the horizon would be, but Melva tugs on my sleeve and points more towards the shoreline closest to us.

"Kid, over there," she says with amazement. I then see it. It's nearly the size of a Corpse Weeper with snow-white feathers and a large head that reminds me of a snowy owl's. However, its body is more sleek and refined, long, feathery streamers trailing behind it from its head and from its tail where other, shorter feathers can be seen. Its wings appear void of feathers, instead resembling a moth's, complete with gray and brown patterns adorning them. I watch in astonishment and amazement as it dives towards the water's surface, long talons whipping out to snag a large black and green fish from the water and carry it away.

"That was... incredible," I say with a foreign lift in my voice. What is it? It's... joy. The joy I once had from observing sights like these, watching the Abyss work. I've missed it dearly, but of course it would resurface now.

The bird flies east across the water, but as I follow its path, something else comes into view. It's far across the bay, still large in my vision but a notable way away if we were to walk to it. The moment I see it, I'm transfixed, astonished I hadn't noticed it before. It's a building that seems to be situated just offshore of the eastern beaches like a man-made island, but its construction is utterly alien. From where I stand, it's an enormous circle of dark stone and possibly metal that has a circular opening at its center. A cascade of light-filled water flows down into the center of this monolithic structure, and the longer I gaze at it, the more I realize it's actually spinning. Slowly, slowly, it rotates counterclockwise.

"That's Idofront," Melva says when she notices my staring, and the name rings a familiar bell. Have I read about it somewhere? "It's the base of Bondrewd, the Sovereign of Dawn. He's the only White Whistle we know who's alive that's made his home so deep down 'ere." And then I recognize it. When I'd read about the White Whistles, a section about Bondrewd mentioned a place called Idofront, though it was only in passing. But what kind of place is that? Had Bondrewd built it himself? It looks so unnatural compared to the landscape around it, even darker than the stone the snow can't hide.

"That light's so bright..." I mutter. "Is that actually water or ice?"

"I dunno, kid, but it's pretty." She looks around before noticing a ledge just beneath where we're standing. "C'mon, we shouldn't be up this high." I tear myself from my stupor and nod. As much as I adore gawking, I want to move on.

The trek down to what would be considered "ground level" is more difficult than before, with us relying on small ledges and steep slopes to make our way down the cliff faces. I'm sure Vio would've loved this place with how much it would've tested his climbing abilities, but it's nothing but nerve-wracking for me. The ankle of my prosthetic can't fail and bend like my good ankle if I step wrong, but I can't tell if I'm really stepping on something solid unless I put my full weight on it. Melva and I still tie ourselves together with a rope in case the other slips, but it's little more than a placebo with how much of a difference there is between our weights and strengths.

As I descend, I try to pretend I'm doing nothing more than climbing down an uneven ladder. The holds are more scarce in the cliff here, but they still exist, and I simply need to find them. Melva's completely silent during the descent as well, both of us absorbed in intense focus. It would almost be peaceful if a near-sheer drop of a hundred feet didn't await us if we slipped, or if the wind and snow didn't whip at us. But after what seems like an hour of descent, we finally touch down.

My legs give out as soon as we reach the ground, my whole body trembling with the strain of the descent. I haven't been worked that hard physically in over a year even with my self-imposed exercises, and it sadly shows with how my limbs feel like jelly.

"I-I know you're tired, kid, but we gotta get outta the open," Melva says, drawing her machete. She's right, neither of us know anything about what lies down here, we're more than exposed right now. I force myself to my feet, and we make our way into the small pine forest we spotted from atop the cliff, the trees swallowing us in shadow.

I again feel like I'm back at home as we enter the forest. The snow is not as deep here with the densely-packed trees having bore most of it, though they resemble looming ghosts with slight rips in their sheets to indicate the different levels of branches. A light carpet of brown needles sprinkle the ground along with a few pinecones.

Like I used to do with Aedia when we were children, I seek out the largest tree in the forest with the largest bottom branches. The snow covering them creates a natural tent, sheltering us from the wind and any prying eyes we hadn't seen. It's nice to be off my feet, and I lean back against the tree trunk.

"Ya feelin' a bit better now?" Melva asks, and I shrug.

"I'm still trying to comprehend we're even down here at all, let alone that we managed to scale a two-hundred foot cliff without either of us falling!"

"We need some luck comin' our way after what we've been through. Watch, things might get better." I highly doubt it at this point, but it's nice to dream.

We sit in silence for a while longer, not because we have nothing to say, but because we're concerned about what might be listening in on us if we were to speak. Aside from the trills of possibly more of those snowy moth owls and the distant lap of the water against the shore, it's quiet. It's unsettling, but it makes sense for such a lonely, harsh place.

"Maybe we should just spend the night here?" Melva suggests, breaking the silence a few minutes later. "It seems quiet enough for now, an' I didn't see any other cover 'round. I ain't sleepin' out in those snowfields."

Part of me wants to protest, but the rest of me wants to sink down and sleep. Instead, I start stretching out my arms and leg, trying to stop my muscles from stiffening and killing me come tomorrow. "I would've liked to make more progress, but then again, it's not like we even have a plan for what we should do now. It's not the best idea to wander all throughout the layer looking for a way down if we don't know what's out there."

"We could always try goin' to Idofront," Melva says. "Bondrewd has a team of Delvers we could ask for help even if he ain't around."

Doubt strikes me. "Would they want to help us, though?" Melva's response is a long look, and I purse my lips. "Then again, there's no harm in trying when we have nothing else as a lead." And then I see a slight smile on Melva's face.

As night falls, we make camp under the tree. Our fire is small and kindled by pine needles, and I cleared a hole in the branches above for the smoke to escape. Melva pulls out some of our smoked meat for dinner while I fill our near-empty canteens with snow and set them by the fire to melt.

"D-damn, it's just gettin' colder," Melva hisses, holding her hands over the fire. She huddles with her knees to her chest atop her bedroll, not daring to let any part of her touch the icy ground. "I really am pathetic if I can't be warm, e-even with a Relic helpin' me."

I shake my head as I pull our blankets from her bag and hand one to her. "I-I'm getting cold as well, so you're not alone." She snatches the blanket and cocoons herself in it, taking a deep breath.

"Good to know I ain't alone, even if it's an asshole thing to say."

"It makes sense. Nobody wants to be vulnerable unless they do it on purpose," I say, and Melva nods.

"I wish I still had that Spirytus..." she says with a mournful sigh. "That shit would've warmed me up in half a minute."

My teeth grit, and I force aside thoughts that threaten to creep up. "It might've, but you don't need it. Neither of us do." That renders Melva silent, guiltily so. "We both made it this far, and that means something. It'd be hell if we both were still hooked and ran out of alcohol at this point." Melva nods, looking less tense now. She still looks guilty, and I don't know how to rid her of that.

By the time we finish eating, the world outside has gone pitch-black. The only light I can remotely glimpse beyond our fire is the distant, faint radiance of the falls tumbling into Idofront's center. Even that is choked by the dense tree cover. I'd say I can't recall the last time I was submerged in such darkness, but I can all-too well.

The wind whistles through the trees, making goosebumps rush out across my arms. My blood has gone ice-cold, my hackles raised by the presence of the dark alone. I shiver and press myself against the tree trunk, trying not to imagine the things with claws and scissoring fangs that could be just beyond our flimsy cover.

"I can take first watch if ya want," Melva says. I nearly jump out of my skin when she speaks, biting my tongue to stifle a panicked shout. She's surprised by my reaction but then gives me a sympathetic look. "Or we can just both stay up together if ya want."

"No, you need to sleep as much as I do," I object. "You can take first watch if you truly want to." I know she won't take no for an answer.

Melva nods and pulls her machete from its sheath before burying it a bit blade-first in the ground next to her bedroll. "I'll give ya two hours. I don't think we'll be able to get more than six tonight." I sadly agree with that. I make sure my weapons are nearby as well before laying down on my bedroll, tightly wrapping myself in my blanket.

As I wait for sleep to take me, I continue to listen to the forest outside. It only makes me shiver more. "It's strange..." I mutter, and Melva looks at me. "It didn't look like fresh snowfall, and there weren't any footprints out there. Did you see any?" She shakes her head, and I frown, a small knot forming in the pit of my gut. "Oh... okay."

"We're gone at sunrise," Melva says right after that, and I nod. We both know that's more than suspicious, and now I don't know whether I can bring myself to sleep tonight. Still, I force my eyes closed, letting myself melt into the warmth enveloping me.

I'm awoken by a hand on my shoulder, and I bloody my tongue this time trying to muffle a panicked shout. Everything's black, even as the cold still hits me, so did the fire go out? I go to speak, but the first thing I manage to make out in the dark is Melva with her index finger to her lips. I now don't question why she physically shook me awake, but I'm instead dreading the reason why the fire's out.

The air's then split by a shriek, one unlike any I've ever heard. It's a rasping, strangled cry that gives way to a deep note that then fades away. It's a sound that makes the bottom drop out of my stomach, and my hand reaches for my pickaxe. Melva stops me, however, shaking her head and dragging her hand across her throat. No sound at all.

As we sit there in the darkness, another shriek rings out, closer this time. Then a minute or so later, there's another from a bit further away, and then yet another with only a few seconds between the previous. Whatever this is, there's multiple of them, and they're calling to each other. Slowly, I wrap my blanket and bedroll up and put them away, each movement I make painful with tension and caution. Melva only allows this since I'm being quiet, though I'm shocked she can't hear my heart pounding.

The calls continue to sound out, though they're now accompanied by slight rustles in the trees above us. Dammit, they're in the trees. It makes horrible sense now why there weren't any footprints! I start feeling light-headed from taking slow, shallow breaths, and I have no clue what Melva's plan is. Is she waiting for them to stop or pass by? My mind races as the rest of me struggles to stay calm. I'm positive my insides have turned to water, however. Melva isn't doing much better than me, her eyes wide and unblinking as she's as stiff as a statue.

Now the rustles are growing louder, and the scrambling of claws against bark joins them while the shrieks are louder than ever. It reminds me of a black bear trying to climb a tree, and I feel as though I'm seconds from screaming. I swear something is right in the boughs above us, descending to break into our perceived safe haven. I can't take it any longer.

I grab Melva's arm along with our things and burst out through the hanging branches. As I do, something screeches in anger and tears through the branches on the other side, clawing in while we force ourselves out. That's enough to force adrenaline and then some into the both of us.

The forest explodes into life around us when we're out in the open, as if they were waiting for us to give ourselves away. The air is filled with wild shrieks and hollers, bark being flayed away and sprinkling us like snow as the things leap from tree to tree to pursue us. Something grabs hold of my hair from above and pulls up violently, something with claws and opposable thumbs. I scream, panic overtaking me. There's the sound of metal slicing through flesh, and the thing that grabbed me screeches and lets go. I seem to take off after that.

I don't know how I still keep hold of Melva as I bolt through the forest, and I don't know how I don't trip or slam into any trees as I'm blinded by terror. My eyes take in the precious light falling into Idofront, and I scramble for it like a moth to a flame.

Somehow, some way, we make it to the edge of the forest, but we don't stop running. We run until our legs are about to give out, and then we run some more. I can't stop, not until I reach that light, no matter how long it takes. But then Melva shouts, and I feel a violent tug on my arm as Melva stops and tries to pull me back. I don't realize why she's stopped until my feet aren't on the ground any longer, and then I'm falling and pulling Melva down with me.

The fall is only a few feet, but it feels like miles. My prosthetic impacts the ground first, collapsing out from under me, and I land hard on my backside on the cold stone at the bottom of the ledge. A sharp pain fracturing up my spine from my tailbone snaps me out of my panicked frenzy. I let out a small cry as I slump over onto my side, stunned and exhausted.

I don't know how long we remain at the base of this small ridge, recovering from the frantic run and trying to process what just happened. But most of all, I'm terrified that whatever was trying to attack us is still in pursuit. As the minutes pass, however, it becomes evident that isn't the case. I only hope they're territorial and we've simply left their territory.

Melva eventually sits up, chest heaving a little less than before. "I... c-can't believe that... just happened," she wheezes. "H-how the hell are... we alive?" I shake my head numbly as I try to sit up, but my tailbone flares up with pain and I'm forced back onto my side. "Don't tell me... you're h-hurt, klutz?" She says this with little humor and more worry.

"I-I hope not," I say with a cough. Melva breaks out her glowstone light and aims it at the ground, revealing rocky ground mixed with snow. Her light illuminates the five-foot ledge we fell down, and it also shows a little of the hilly snowfield that lies ahead of us. Idofront's falls are more clear now, though they're still in the distance at least a mile away.

"We ain't goin' anywhere else." Melva turns off the light. "Not a step until dawn, I don't trust anythin' in those hills." I don't either, and I don't object. For the next few hours, we huddle together for warmth, too tense to sleep as we hope and pray for the dawn.

Finally, the sky above us starts to lighten slightly. It's not with noticeable sunlight or even a light source we can pinpoint, but the remaining trails of mist from the Fourth Layer brighten. Following that, the air around us lightens enough for us to see. I can only guess the light in part comes from the flower field and is refracted by the ice and snow to make things visible.

"How's your ass feelin'?" Melva looks over at me. "I swear if ya messed up your tailbone—"

"I can sit," I hiss, making a point to do so, even if it aches horribly. It's not as bad as when I first fell. Melva's satisfied enough with that, and she fishes out more smoked meat for us. I have to choke it down as my stomach's still in knots, but at least I can keep it down. "W-were you hurt at all?" I ask, and Melva points out a red welt across her jawline.

"A branch smacked me, but I'm fine. One of those things grabbed ya, but it didn't seem to pull out any of your hair."

I put a hand to the back of my head, exhaling deeply in relief. "Thankfully not. But those things, whatever they were... they had five fingers like we do, and that scared me so much more for some reason."

"Things are supposed to be smarter an' developed down 'ere," Melva says grimly. "I'm happier we didn't actually see what they looked like." I don't want to imagine it myself considering how manic soley hearing them made me. "But we made some progress towards Idofront." She peers over the ledge where we came from before fully standing up, taking our binoculars with her. "It looks like just hills to that place... hills an' beach maybe? Hard to tell."

"Then we can head out now if you want to," I say as I check my prosthetic for any damage. There isn't even a scratch on it. Like Gwynden said, it's been made to last.

I shove the rest of the meat in my mouth and get to my feet. My backside still aches, but I try to push the pain aside to walk. Melva looks at me in concern, but I take a few steps forwards and turn back to her to show I'm well enough to continue. I've walked with worse injuries, after all. Behind her and over the ledge, the pine forest looms in the near distance. We ran further than I thought, but people do crazy things when they think they're about to die.

"Okay, fine, let's get goin'," Melva sighs, pulling her cloak around herself. "It looks about a mile, so we can maybe make it there in an hour or two." I nod in agreement and wait until she joins me at my side, and we proceed into the hills.