In the morning, we headed to the Gate.

    Travelers Gate #66562852

    Destination: Sahunu

    Status: Integrated

    Mana Level: 47

    Threat Level: Moderate

    “Finally,” Mahya said, smiling. “A good mana level. Not that boring low mana.”

    She crossed first, Al and Rue right behind. I was just about to cross when Rue slammed into me, nearly knocking me sideways as he blocked my path with his entire body, chanting, “No, no, nope, no, nope, no, no, no, nope.” His entire demeanor radiated panic, horror, and disgust that crashed over me like waves.

    I opened my mouth to ask him what happened, but before a word came out, Mahya and Al crossed back. So I asked the three of them, “What happened?”

    They became visible. Al’s lips were purple, his skin a pale, blotchy blue. Mahya’s brown had deepened several shades, and her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. Both of them were shivering violently. Al’s breath came in sharp little bursts while Mahya rubbed her arms vigorously.

    Mahya opened her mouth, probably to answer me, but the only sound that came out was the frantic clack-clack-clack of her teeth and a pitiful groan that sounded like co-o-o-ho-o-old.

    I waited until they stopped shivering like they were about to fly apart and asked again, “What happened?”

    “You have to experience it to understand,” Al said, voice tight and jaw still twitching.

    Mahya waved in his direction with a stiff hand while rubbing her arm with the other, like she was sanding herself.

    “That bad?” I asked.

    The three of them nodded, slow and synchronized.

    I was about to cross, but Mahya reached out with fingers that looked red and raw, stopping me with a hand on my shoulder. “Wear something warmer.” Her voice cracked.

    I took out my jeans jacket.

    “Warmer,” she said.

    I took out my pea coat.

    She shook her head, lips pressed into a line. “Warmer. Gloves and a scarf, too.”

    “That bad?” I asked again.

    All of them nodded. Emphatically. Rue pressed his head against my side and sent me more waves of horror and disgust.

    I thought a moment, mentally going through my Storage. “I don’t think I have anything warmer.”

    “What about the parkas from the army stores?” Mahya asked.

    Right!

    Parka, scarf, gloves, and a wool hat on at Al’s urging, I crossed the Gate and froze. Physically and metaphorically.

    It was like stepping straight into a freezer the size of a continent. I stood on a ledge slick with ice, my boots already slipping, and all around me stretched a flat, blinding wasteland of snow. Just white. There were no shapes, shadows, or breaks in the terrain. It looked like somebody had erased the world and left a blank page. Thick snow swallowed the horizon, continuing endlessly. The sky was washed-out blue, almost white, with a dim sun that gave off zero warmth. Strong wind hit like a wall, loud and constant, pushing hard against my coat and sneaking in through every opening—collar, sleeves, cuffs. It was dry and sharp, and breathing it in made my chest ache. The cold wasn’t just outside—it went through the layers and settled in, like it belonged in my bones.

    I have never experienced such cold. It wasn’t just freezing—it was paralyzing. My lungs burned on the inhale, the air too sharp to feel real. In the two seconds I was on this side of the Gate, my face went numb, but somehow also burned. Each blink dragged over my eyes like sandpaper. My eyelashes started to stick together.

    Turning back to the Gate, I froze again—this time metaphorically.

    Since my Perception reached the 100 mark, I’d constantly been aware of the North. It was as if I had a compass needle stuck in my awareness, always pointing left, right, or straight ahead. Now, that sense shifted. A line went through my body. Not out into the distance. Into the ground.

    I opened the Map.

    Holy shit!

    I was at the South Pole!

    My brain felt slower with every second, like it was trying to think through syrup. I shook my head. What was I doing? Right! Go back!

    I dove through the Gate, back to Zindor.

    Anything was better than this.

    After we all thawed out, we spent five days at the beach. Al tried to do something with the plankton but ran into a problem. As soon as he separated them from the water, they died. When they died, the mana dissipated. After three days and a lot of strange-sounding curses, he gave up.

    “May the Twelve Wanes fall upon this blasted thing.”

    “Ancestors preserve me from this idiocy.”

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    “Damnation take the mana-sodden sea!”

    “Cursed be this day and the fool who charted it.”

    “May this endeavor be stricken from the Annals of Reason.”

    They say life is constant learning. I definitely learned some interesting curses and expanded my repertoire.

    The beach had seagull derivatives. They were bigger, meaner, gray and black instead of white, and much better at stealing food. But those differences didn’t matter to Rue—he still hated seagulls. He spent his days chasing them up and down the beach, running or flying, barking his head off. I expected him to be angry or disappointed that he couldn’t catch them, but he surprised me. He came back for meals in a good mood, tail wagging, and declared, “Rue is very dangerous.”

    The first time he said that, Mahya pointed out, “If you’re so dangerous, how come you didn’t catch any?”

    He gave her a look of such disdain that Al and I burst out laughing. After that, none of us questioned his level of danger.

    The first two days at the beach, Mahya went swimming and had fun. On day three, something took a bite out of her—literally. She rushed back to me with a small piece missing from her leg. After that, she avoided the water. Instead, she flew on the sword, dropped her boat into the water, and sailed up and down the beach for a few kilometers in every direction, looking for “something interesting.”

    On day four, she stored the boat, huffed, and said in a disappointed tone, “Nothing to see, just endless beach.”

    I explored the beach on foot and from the air, taking a bunch of pictures. There was plenty to see, despite what Mahya said. Swimming had been part of the plan, but after that creature took a bite out of her, I decided against it. All my flesh belonged exactly where it was, thank you very much.

    We made bonfires from driftwood in the evenings, roasted snake meat and marshmallows on sticks, and I played my guitar.

    Rue held his snake steak with Telekinesis until it was a charred piece of coal. That didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. He stuck his nose in the air. “Rue is bestest cook.”

    It was a nice mini-vacation.

    The trip to the next Gate took us six days. We flew over two cities on the way. Didn’t stop, of course. Just glanced at them from above and kept going. Days four to six were nonstop in the air. Once again, the same endless, frustrating sea of green. Dense jungle canopies stretched out in every direction, no clearings, no landmarks, and definitely nowhere to land. Just layer upon layer of treetops packed so tight they looked like you could walk across them—if you didn’t mind falling through to your death.

    Even flying them down for bathroom breaks was a challenge—half flying, half climbing just to reach the ground. After the second attempt, we all agreed to hold it in and drink less. I didn’t even bother asking the wind about dungeons on this stretch. No point in angering Mahya over cores she couldn’t reach.

    When we finally passed over the Gate, we felt it. That tug in your gut that lets you know you were close. But there was nowhere to go. No clearing, no landing spot, just the same suffocating wall of green below. We circled, expanding our radius again and again, trying not to drift too far. Eventually, we spotted a road—half-buried under vines and roots and time, with a narrow stretch with a little less canopy than the rest. It wasn''t wide enough to bring the balloon down, but it would do for a sword drop.

    Mahya grumbled the entire time. She stood balanced on her flying sword, braids whipping around her face as she barked out short, clipped commands. The balloon responded with a series of soft hisses and groans as it deflated, folding in on itself like an obedient, oversized creature. The whole thing collapsed in stages as she directed it with sharp gestures and a steady stream of curses—some under her breath, most not. Apparently, idiot world designers, with crooked nands and heads in their asses, were obsessed with endless, unlandable forests.

    Once it was packed and stored, we dropped down and continued on foot.

    And, of course… we were attacked by snakes.

    This world was crawling with them. Snakes in the trees, snakes on the ground, snakes that dropped out of the canopy like scaly assassins, and of course, flying out from behind every other tree. The only silver lining was that they didn’t come in huge numbers. We dealt with them without getting bitten. Sёarch* The N?vel(F)ire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Al, who’d been collecting venom sacks on every occasion, finally reached a point where he didn’t even bother. He just gave the carcasses a bored look or a nudge with his foot, muttered something about “diminishing returns,” and moved on. We cut through them, kept cutting through the underbrush, and pressed on toward the Gate, one slash at a time.

    Travelers Gate #665629641

    Destination: Celestial Dominion

    Status: Integrated

    Mana Level: 81

    Threat Level: Lethal

    The three of them turned to look at me. I really wanted to know what they’d do in the future without my Luck acting as a warning beacon. This time, both my Perception and Luck agreed—there was danger ahead, but not immediate. Not if we just crossed and came right back.

    It took me a moment to pin down the nuance. The warning pulsed through me, sharp and insistent, but layered. A powerful jolt of don’t, followed by a gentler maybe, but carefully. Or at least, that’s how I interpreted it. I hoped I was right.

    “What are you feeling?” I asked, scanning their faces.

    Mahya’s brow furrowed. “A strong warning,” she said.

    Al gave a brief nod, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

    Rue licked his lips and sat down. “Hungry,” he said, ears perked and twitching.

    Of course.

    “I feel both—a strong warning and a mild one layered together,” I said, glancing toward the Gate. “I think it means the world is dangerous, but not if we cross quickly and come back. Any ideas?”

    Al pressed his fingertips together, thinking hard.

    Mahya took a slow breath, her stance shifting as she squared her shoulders. “I’m the strongest. I’ll cross and check it out. If it’s fine, I’ll come and get you. If not—don’t worry. I’ll find a way back.”

    “Are you sure?” I asked, watching her carefully. “We can just skip it.”

    Mahya gave a small nod, her expression resolute. “Yes. I wouldn''t have risked it if your Luck gave only a strong warning. But with a mild one mixed in… I think it’ll be fine.”

    She turned invisible and crossed. A minute later, she came back. “It’s fine. But just in case, do it fast. I heard roars.”

    We crossed. A dense forest on the other side looked nearly identical to where we came from. The only difference was the scale. The trees were easily three times taller, their leaves a mix of deep purple, electric blue, and the occasional patch of green. It looked like a magical forest party with colorful decorations. I also heard the roars Mahya mentioned. Distant, but loud, guttural, and absolutely menacing.

    The two seconds I spent on that side were more than enough to convince me, without a shadow of a doubt, that I wasn’t ready for very-high mana. Both my Luck and Perception flared at once, louder than ever, screaming danger with a clarity that couldn’t be ignored. It wasn’t just a warning—it was a blaring alarm. The air felt wrong, the ground too saturated, and everything in me screamed I didn’t belong there.

    Back in Zindor, I sighed. If we ever stumbled across a Gate to the Dragon Realm, I still wasn’t strong enough to visit Lis.

    Bummer.

    We retraced our steps through the path we’d cleared in the underbrush and returned to the half-buried road.

    Mahya looked around, eyes scanning the thick canopy as she tapped her chin. “I don’t think I can open the balloon in the air. Closing it was a nightmare. Opening it will be impossible.”

    “We should follow the road,” Al said. “From past experience, we’ll reach a more open section.”

    After five hours, over fifty snakes, a pack of seven wild dogs, and another donkey with sharp teeth and claws, we finally reached an opening big enough to launch the balloon. It was getting dark by that point, so I opened my house and went to cook dinner.

    While stirring the pot, I quietly prayed to the Guiding Spirits that the rest of the Gates would be more accessible—or at least lead to better places.