The Shy and kobolds enjoyed a leisurely breakfast as a new day dawned. Roasted roots and grilled fish filled their stomachs and the air with their aromas. The party was finally experiencing a rare moment of peace after days of relentless trekking.

Despite the calm, Vikka's mind was far from restful. Jerrik's story of the kobold family in the Veilwoods pervaded her thoughts. The idea of other kobolds living free stirred something within her.

A well-fed Nynka plopped down beside Vikka, stretching her legs with a satisfied sigh. "You're gonna look for those kobolds, aren't you?"

Vikka didn't bother denying it. "Yes. I think… they can help us figure out where to go from here."

As soon as she replied, Tesska and Sidhe poked their snouts into the conversation.

"Going alone?" Tesska asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

"That's the plan."

Sidhe scowled. "We should come with you. Strength in numbers."

Vikka shook her head. "We're not even sure if they'll want to talk. It could get more complicated showing up as a group."

Nynka crossed her arms, staring daggers into Vikka's eyes. "And what if you don't come back?"

"I will," Vikka huffed, thumping her tail into the dirt for emphasis.

That wasn't enough for Nynka. "What if they ask you to stay with them?"

Vikka hesitated. She hadn't thought that far ahead, and Nynka's blunt questions forced her to confront her doubts.

"I'm not going to join them," Vikka said, though her voice lacked conviction. "I'm just going to check on them. I'll come back as soon as I can, then we can all talk about what we should do next."

Nynka's stare didn't soften. "You better. I dunno how to keep this lot from getting into too much trouble without you," she grumbled, pointing at the others with the tip of her tail.

Vikka didn't answer. She wasn't sure about anything anymore.

You're leaving? Sylven's voice resonated quietly in her mind, more curious than surprised.

Vikka found him near the edge of camp, tending to Uiska. The Shy were mostly keeping to themselves, though their wariness towards the kobolds had faded. Their journey together had forged a strong bond. But with the reversion of their size differences and the uncertainty of what came next, Vikka could sense some underlying tension.

She nodded. Going to find the kobold family Jerrik talked about.

Sylven's fingers stroked Uiska's fur. Anything we can do for you?

Vikka crossed her arms, her tail waving. You'll have a harder time keeping the kobolds in line without me to translate. But you can at least let them know if I'm doing fine… or not.

Sylven grinned. That's fair. We'll all be fine, he added. We're not moving anytime soon. We need to recover, plan, and build up strength before we start heading back to the caldera… or anywhere else.

Vikka nodded. That made sense. Just the other day, they had been running for their lives. Now it felt like they had room to breathe.

Besides, Sylven teased. We have a backup translator now.

Vikka blinked. "What! Who?"

Sylven jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Tibbin was miming dramatically at Alvon, who looked deeply skeptical. The kobold was introducing him to their repertoire of claw, tail and ear gestures, trying to explain the nuances of kobold communication. Alvon looked like he was regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment.

"No, no! That means 'go.' You want…" Tibbin waved his arms in a circular motion, then pointed. "Tara…?"

Alvon scratched his head in confusion. "I thought it was tayhin?"

Tibbin brightened. "Yes! Oops. No! Maybe… Tayo?"

Alvon frowned. "So what about tar… at?"

Tibbin groaned, rubbing his horns with his claws. "That means 'They go.' You go is…wait…" He froze mid-explanation, his tail held in a curve. "Okay, maybe it is tayhin? Or is that 'you wait?' Hold on…"

Alvon exhaled in frustration, holding up his hands in a sweeping motion forward.

Tibbin's face lit up. "Yes! That's right! Do that if you don't know the words!"

Alvon muttered something in Shy that Vikka was pretty sure wasn't polite.

Sylven massaged his brow with his fingers. This is painful.

Undeterred, Tibbin pointed at Alvon's behind. "Look, he's getting it! That tail flick? That means 'question.' And the head tilt? That's confusion."

Alvon deadpanned. "It means I don't know what you're saying. And we don't even have tails!"

Tibbin grinned. "See, we understand each other perfectly!"

Vikka shook her head, hands on her hips. "I leave for a few minutes, and you start learning Shyspeak?"

Tibbin puffed out his chest. "You always say I talk too much—but that's exactly the kind of skill and initiative needed for a good liaison!"

Sylven chuckled. Don't worry about us, Vikka. Go do what you need to do. We'll manage.

Vikka glanced between them—Tibbin, wildly enthusiastic, and Alvon, exhausted but trying. She wasn't sure if she was leaving them in good hands… or as a disaster waiting to happen.

She was back in the quiet of the forest. After days traveling in a group, the silence was almost oppressive, setting her on edge. No hidden predators lurked in the undergrowth. No strange scents were carried by the wind. But after a day of hiking solo, she would almost welcome them just to feel less isolated.

Vikka crouched as her eyes picked out a break in the leaf litter at her feet. A linear pattern had been dragged across the soil. It was unmistakably from a spiked tail, dug in just deep enough to be intentional. A sign that someone had passed this way and wanted another kobold to know.

She traced the line with her claw, her mind clicking through possibilities. Not a warning sign. Not a territorial mark or a call to mate. It wasn't just that the mark was kobold-made, it was thoughtful, deliberate. The kind of mark a scout might leave, or a lone wanderer tracking their own path.

Following the tail trail, Vikka spotted more clues—scratches on bark, clusters of mushrooms with their heads neatly clipped by claws. She was moving away from the river, towards the foot of the caldera's outer rim. As the trees thinned and the terrain grew rockier, she lost her footing. Suddenly, her vision blurred and the world around her shifted. She wasn't in the forest anymore, vegetation giving way to volcanic rock.

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It was a scene from deep within the Cradle Caverns, the air thick with sulfurous steam rising from molten stone. A tunnel stretched ahead, lit by the glow of superheated lava. And in the distance, a familiar figure stood watching.

Its presence brushed against the edge of her mind, the lightest touch of another's thoughts reaching into her own. Vikka resisted the intrusion.

And then… she was back in the Veilwoods. She stumbled, catching herself against the nearest tree. She stood there, trying to interpret what just happened.

In her dreams she had glimpsed echoes of hive-life, vague images she barely understood. But this was the most vivid vision yet, like someone bored a direct line into her mind, overriding even the bond with Sylven.

Whoever they were, they were close.

Dusk approached when Vikka knew she was coming up on her target. She slowed her pace, ears pricked, tail held low. She slipped between the trees, careful not to snap a branch or rustle the leaves.

Warmth and smoke drew her to the edge of a clearing, bathed in the light of a fire. Three figures sat around it, hooting and humming in chorus. But it was a unique harmony, not any of the rote melodies that nest mothers drilled into hive hatchlings.

The kobolds looked like they were just enjoying each other's company, jamming to their own music.

The female sat on a flat-topped stone, tending the fire as she boiled herbs in clay pots. A male, slightly smaller and younger, crouched nearby, stripping bark from a branch with careful, practiced motions. And a child, also a male, not much bigger than Vikka and her team had been just a few days ago. He sorted through a pile of mushrooms, tiny claws deftly separating the good from the bad.

None of them looked at her. But she knew that they, or at least the female, knew she was there.

Vikka's breath caught in her throat. The female lifted her head, eyes narrowing slightly with a momentary flicker of guardedness. Then she met Vikka's gaze, holding it steady as her pupils reflected the firelight. There was no challenge in her stance, just awareness, then acceptance. A slow, knowing smile curled at the edges of her mouth.

"You found us."

Vikka's claws clicked into each other nervously. She had been prepared to be greeted with suspicion, even hostility, not a welcome tempered by certainty.

"You were waiting for me?" Her voice came out rougher than she intended.

The female trumpeted as if amused by the question. "Not waiting." She tapped a claw lightly against the orbit of her eye. "Watching."

With every recollection of the other kobold's thoughts and memories, Vikka grasped what she implied. Not just now, but since her earlier visions.

Vikka's leaned back against the closest tree trunk, steadying herself with her tail. "Who are you, really?"

"That's a question I once asked myself." The female extended her palm, gesturing toward the open space near the fire. "Come. Sit."

Vikka hesitated. Something deep inside her whispered that this moment was important. And the next step was hers alone.

She moved toward the fire, her eyes reassessing the trio more closely as she approached. The male glanced up from his work. The child had stopped sorting and rested his back against his father's knees. They both looked curious but relaxed, sitting close to the female, decidedly lacking in deference.

The female pointed to another flat stone across the fire from them.

Vikka hesitated, then settled onto her haunches, wary but more at ease. The adult male was watching her closely, but without the judgmental regard the males of the hive tended to project.

The female rested her palms on her knees. "Since you've come this far, it's only fair that you know us properly."

She placed a clawed hand against her own chest. "I am Mirys. Once of the caldera hive. But no longer."

Her tail affectionately tapped her male companion, but her gaze did not waver from Vikka. "This is Rukrin, my mate."

At her side, Rukrin dipped his head slightly. "Welcome," he said simply.

Vikka studied him. Most males feigned a particular posture depending on the situation. They preened and flexed when angling for a female's favor. In the presence of a senior kobold or the queen herself, they hunched their shoulders and lowered their heads to acknowledge authority. Rukrin displayed none of that, looking both confident and content.

Mirys then turned toward the little kobold. The child had been studying Vikka with wide, bright eyes.

Mirys's voice softened. "And this is Nisik, our son."

Vikka wondered at the word, how she referred to the young kobold not as her hatchling, nor of her hive-brood, but her… son.

She looked at the trio and bowed her head respectfully to them, waving her tail as a friendly gesture. "My name is Vikka."

Nisik tilted his head and flicked his tongue out at her, tasting her scent in the air. "Are you lost?" he asked innocently.

Vikka blinked. "What?"

Nisik shrugged, as if the question was the most natural thing in the world. "When I asked Mama and Papa if there were any other kobolds like us, they told me, maybe someday we could meet one who got lost in the woods."

Mirys chuckled gently. "Vikka doesn't seem to be lost anymore." She nodded and settled back into her stone seat.

Vikka sat with her tail curled around her feet, her mind still processing what she was seeing. She had come looking for answers, but this only opened more questions.

Mirys had the physical characteristics and carried herself with the unmistakable poise of a kobold queen—but lacked the cold, intimidating aura Vikka remembered from the one who ruled the hive she had left behind.

"I imagine you want to know what's going on here," Mirys acknowledged at last.

Vikka exhaled sharply. "More than anything."

Mirys leaned forward. "Let's start here, then." She looked directly into Vikka's eyes with both interest and concern. "Why did you leave the hive?"

Vikka frowned. Answering that question should be easy for her. Just weeks ago, she had so many reasons to want to leave. Restlessness, curiosity, defiance, escaping the crushing weight of tradition. Now they all felt hollow.

Sitting here in this strange clearing, facing someone who had already done what she couldn't even have dreamed, she was at a loss. Did we leave for the same reasons?

"I… I thought I knew," Vikka hesitated. "Now, I'm not really sure…"

Mirys nodded. "Good. Admitting that… means you're open to a true understanding of what you're going through."

She reached toward the fire, picking up a dry twig and idly running her claw over the bark.

"I was the same," she continued. "Strange impulses stirred in me to break away, reject responsibility, and distance myself from our hive."

Vikka perked up at the familiar story. "Do you know why we feel this way?"

Mirys sighed and looked into the distance. "Because they… our ancestors, the kobold queens… willed it. For the good of kobold kind, they needed us to seek out our own place… eventually start new hives. But… without challenging the hive we came from, or the queen who laid us."

She hunched over the dirt, her claw sketching the oval shape of an egg.

"How do you think queens are made?" Mirys asked.

Vikka frowned. "Aren't they just… born that way? Chosen from the start?"

"There's more to it than that," Mirys shook her head. "Any egg laid by the queen has the potential," she explained, tapping her dirt drawing, adding details as she spoke. "But it's the steam from certain vents in the caverns that alter the chosen ones. Punishing heat and gases from deep places in the world shape the hatchlings while still incubating."

Vikka's mind flashed, unbidden, to memories buried under multiple layers of suppression. Warmth. Darkness. Pressure that almost crushed her shell but ended up transforming her being instead. It resembled the place in her earlier visions, where she had sensed Mirys's presence. She blinked, and they were both back where they were.

She reached out, clasping Mirys's arms, trying to ground herself back in reality. "How do you know all this? Why do we keep coming back to that place?"

"Because we remember where we began," Mirys stated simply. "And the memories call to us."

"Why did they make us this way? What did they do to us?" she pleaded, desperate for clarity.

"Because queens do not pass down knowledge through words, but thoughts," Mirys explained. "We inherit more than just their traits and instincts."

Vikka gasped as more repressed memories flooded into her. Being taken from the heavy, damp heat, then nestled among other eggs. The comforting presence of her clutch-mates, their budding thoughts mingling with her own, until she took for granted that she was just like any one of them. Hatching, seeing the light of an egg candle for the first time…

As she realized that she was reliving her life in her own mind, she blinked back into the clearing, sitting by the fire.

Mirys held Vikka's hand, her touch reassuring. "You see it now. If you walk away, the visions will keep haunting you. If you're not strong enough, they can they drive you mad."

Rukrin finally spoke, laying his head on his mate's shoulder, stroking her back. "I remember those nights…"

Mirys nodded, her expression softening. "At first, I believed I ought to heed the dreams' urgings, to fulfill my duty, follow my destiny. But then, I met Rukrin."

"She's being modest about how she changed my life," Rukrin asserted, his voice full of warmth as he looked at Mirys. "Saved me from a trap I stumbled into near the rim of the caldera. I would have followed her anywhere as my queen, but she wouldn't have it."

Mirys smiled tenderly at her mate, then turned back to Vikka. "Well, in return he gave me both a purpose, and the strength to spurn the visions. Every night that I focused on him and our life together instead, the hive's voice grew quieter, the dreams faded."

"So… what about me?" Vikka asked, still reeling. "I… I don't have a mate."

Mirys looked at her again, placing her palms on Vikka's shoulders. "You don't need one. You don't have to be what the hive made you. You're free to become who you want."

Vikka realized no one in the hive had ever discussed having choices in life. Kobolds, even the queen, didn't decide their own paths. They simply accepted and grew into their roles.

Mirys continued. "When I left the hive, I thought I had to find myself, as if I were lost"

She brushed the dirt off her hands, the firelight bringing out the royal sheen of her scales. "But through my time alone, and with Rukrin, I learned that I needed to break the hive's hold. We can fight against our instincts. We don't have to build another hive, just like the one we left."

"But… what do you think I should do next?" Vikka asked.

Mirys smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "I think you've already found your family… and your path. Just keep caring for them. Keep journeying onwards… together."

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