"Morta. Alright. Whatever that means." Jyuzou put his hands on his backpack's shoulder straps and Morio glanced towards the only visible path. "I think our best course of action is to look around for someone first. Maybe like in the Bore Forest, there'll be some boats here."

Morio peered left and right and then started walking.

"Excuse me?" Jyuzou seemed offended.

"Come on, Jyuzou! There's nothing on this beach!" he raised his voice.

"Th-there could be some hidden flowers!" he yelled back.

"GAAH!" Morio's voice echoed before Jyuzou quickly joined him.

***

If one stood atop Mount Aria, the first thing that immediately caught their attention was the sheer amount of trees, growing all around the terrain. Some woods are dense, but most had these small paths, made out of people treading in the most logical way possible.

About 3/4th of Mainland Errarion was made out of forests, either extending on hills and valleys or top of the colourful mountains. When the seas were much calmer back in the years of the dragon demons, people who'd come from faraway lands would be surprised at just how clean the air was. Especially in Herbes, it seemed like you could smell the flowers even if they were kilometres away from you, carried by light and clear breezes of wind.

Even though the Aria River and much of the first impression of Morta was rather foggy, covered with a silver mist, the big section that followed was much like most places of the Mainland.

The Uno Mountains were dark green, with thick bushes splattered behind some of the bigger trees that bent towards the ups and downs and around the small rivers that flew through. The crowns, like in some forests of Shimori, made a big roof, but this time, the sun generously shone, illuminating the more orange and pink plants growing near the water or boulders.

Mentioning rocks, they were covered in moss and often created what seemed to be staircases, leading up to bigger tilts, next to thin barks and branches that hung below, sometimes obstructing the path. For that reason, Morio grabbed a big stick with a sharpened end and cut through, later carrying it around, using it as a stepping stone. Jyuzou didn't speak much about that, but deep inside, grew a little jealous of him and eventually found a twig of his own.

As for the name of this place? Uno in old Manjuno meant wet, or damp, and it perfectly described the first part of this hilly environment. Although Morio and Jyuzou didn't know the name used by the few people who dared to step into Morta, they nicknamed it the Wet Woods.

A green substance covered most of the barks, swapping the thick brown. It wasn't sticky, but Jyuzou complained about the weird feeling he was met with upon touching the bedding, trying to grab the Callothia flower that sprang next to a small puddle. It wasn't even the substance that felt wet, the air and the atmosphere were oddly heavy as if it was raining and the drops were stopped by the big and heavy leaves closer to the crowns.

With each step they took, their boots sank into the bedding more and more, before they reached a part that kept leading upwards, passing a massive waterfall, but admiring it for a few seconds. The damp grass disappeared, replaced by dry dirt covered in small parts of the brown tree barks. Again, the stones created a small staircase, which led under a mossy tree and up to the lime leaves, changing into a rather subtle, yellowish colour, yet Morio didn't mind it.

If it was natural, it wasn't bad. Except, for a few cases. He disliked the look of the Riveria flowers in Gorro, for example.

The grass grew taller, trees started becoming sparse, and a river followed them from the waterfall. It was only now that they'd noticed how warm it was, in comparison to the Yule of Shimori.

Morians were used to very low temperatures and felt comfortable treading around the snow. The clothes they made were double-layered, meaning they physically didn't feel the cold anywhere but their hands or fingers. A sudden wave of heat, brought by the first days of Herbes, which in Morta seemed to come way faster than it did anywhere else reminded them of just how bad they handle warmer climates.

Jyuzou put a book over his head, trying to think of a possibility to counter this abysmal climate (it was still pretty cold), before Morio pointed to a cluster of white material, growing out of the barks of every tree. Jyuzou immediately got to work, peeling off the layers of cotton and placing it down on the grass.

He quickly rolled each piece so that it would be rather thin and stringy, put it in the shape of two undershirts and started adding small bits of water from the nearby river, causing the pieces to stick together. He grabbed some of the grass, pressing its remains against the damp cotton, before letting it dry out.

He quickly wore his creation, but noticed that Morio was staring him down intensely, pointing to that wreck that was his shirt, after the encounters in Magna. The two sat by a tree, closer to the river, and Jyuzou calmly crafted his garment.

"Herbes comes a bit faster here, doesn't it?" Jyuzou asked, flipping the cotton around.

"Ugh, tell me about it!" Morio replied, lying in the grass. "It's never that hot in Shimori! I don't want to imagine this place in Gorro." he shook his head.

"Uh." Jyuzou sighed. "I wish I could see Shimori becoming p-purple in a different place than Mistwick. By now, I would've been watching both forests changing hues from Mr Bancho's balcony."

"Maybe this place is nothing but a small island, and we decide to go back to Shimori sooner than we'd expect." Morio proposed, taking some grass and sticking it into his mouth, much like Ella would smoke her cigar. "This journey could last seasons, but it can also take us only a few days!" he winked.

"I don't know," Jyuzou uttered. "I wanted to see Shimori Herbes. It's a nice change of pace."

"Yeah." Morio closed his eyes. "It's white for two seasons. I get tired of the snow after a few days." he continued, before opening one eye and staring down at Jyuzou. The other Morian noticed, before quickly turning around. "Huh, that doesn't resemble an undershirt," he muttered, sitting up.

Jyuzou looked around. "It doesn't take that long to make, so I thought I'd try s-something new, you know?" Jyuzou smiled, putting one hand on his neck.

"Ooh! Crafty, aren't we?" Morio uttered, beaming. "What are you making?"

"Um." Jyuzou pulled back the Talia cloak that lay next to him. "A cloak."

Morio looked at his white garment, then back at Jyuzou, slowly furrowing his eyebrows. "Are you copying me?!" he stood up, enraged.

"I thought it looked cool, alright?" Jyuzou straightened up as well, stepping back and squeezing a few purple flowers in his palm. "I'll have a small p-purple cloak of my own!"

"Ghh!" Morio ground his teeth. "You can spout about plans for hours, you can force me to look at the stupid yellow flowers in Gorro... but!" he raised one finger. "You may never copy my style!" he leapt at Jyuzou, who started running away.

The two chased each other around a few trees, jumping over the lower branches and into the taller grasses or bushes. Morio acted as if he had become nothing but a demon. He kept yelling out: "Get back here!" or "Stop running away! I'll tear that cloak and you apart!"

Morio's mind rushed. "No, this can't be true! I'm only allowed to wear such a cool cloak! It was a gift, something that is one in a lifetime!" he thought. "But, at the same time, we'd look like a great duo. Two Morians in two cloaks!" he contemplated. "Then again, Jyuzou already stands out because of his stupid glasses!"

"GET BACK HERE!" Morio yelled.

Jyuzou wasn't going to give up. "I want a cool cloak too." he thought, the first time he was the other Morian, wrapping himself up. "Cotton doesn't grow in Shimori until late Dear." he clenched his fist. "Maybe I'll ask Mr Bancho? No, he'd laugh at me. I have to find another way."

...and so he did. Although Talia's material was a mystery, Jyuzou was content making clothes of the same fabric his coat, sweater or undershirt were.

Suddenly, Morio tumbled on a small rock, weakened. Jyuzou immediately stopped, breathing out, and clenching his fist, before the other Morian only breathed out, seemingly in pain.

Jyuzou blinked a few times, and Morio immediately put his hand on the wound from earlier, pressuring it and grinding his teeth, waddling over to a tree.

***

"Did the bleeding stop?" Jyuzou muttered.

"Yeah," Morio answered, slowly moving his hand and rubbing the blood into the grass. "It's nothing."

"I noticed it earlier. The blood went through to your vest. We should probably find a bandage or some big leaf to wrap around your body." Jyuzou proposed.

"Come on, it's just a little wound." Morio shook his head. "Nothing to be scared of."

"Well, same here." Jyuzou looked at the small bandage wrapped around his finger. "But it still seldom bleeds for no reason."

Morio looked away, trying to hold back a giggle.

"DON'T MAKE FUN OF SERIOUS MATTERS!" Jyuzou shook his body, and Morio laughed, snorting.

"How did that happen?" Morio asked. "You were eating soup and got a splinter from the wooden spoon?"

"I-I should be the one asking this question!" Jyuzou raised his voice.

Morio breathed out. "I fell, and my new sword kinda... got stuck inside me." he scratched the back of his head.

"What?" Jyuzou looked terrified.

"I don't know, it hurt for a while, but I'm fine now." Morio waved his hand. "It just bleeds sometimes!"

Jyuzou slowly covered his mouth.

Morio sighed. "Jeez, Jyuzou. It's nothing to get worked about."

"You heard that story, right?" the other Morian uttered. "When a Demonear gets stabbed with their own Guardian Demon, they're bound to die much faster than normal humans. That's how Machow Kris, son of the Duke of Osmania died."

Morio gulped. "I do remember it. Mr Bancho called it a witchtale for a reason, though!"

"Stabbing yourself is e-equivalent to forever betraying your Guardian Demon. It won't show through the weapon's blade, and won't answer your calls for help. You're the only one who can control its course."

"Mm." Morio looked to the side. "C-Come on. Don't scare me like that."

"I mean, everyone in the Kris family lived rather short lives," Jyuzou uttered, sighing. "Still."

"I'll prove otherwise, then," Morio said, scouring to stand up. "I plan to be at least two hundred years old when I die, got it?" he inched closer. "A little wound isn't going to kill me!"

Jyuzou looked around. "I hope so too, Morio. Morians don't live that long, anyway."

All of a sudden, something moved through the bushes, and down into a small valley in between the trees. The sun shone down at the Morians, who quickly glanced at each other, before quickly hopping into the nearby tall grass.

Morio crawled forward, much to Jyuzou's silent objections and looked out from up the hill. A demon who stood on four legs sniffed something, before picking up Jyuzou's sweater with his sharp teeth and standing up on two feet. Morio moved back a little, as the demon looked around with his dark eyes, and ran off into the distance, making strange noises.

"Damn it." Jyuzou punched the ground. "My favourite sweater!" he whispered.

Morio sat up, turning to Jyuzou, before looking around, as if he trying to spot something extraordinary.

Jyuzou pushed the grass apart. "You know why I'm so good at making all these clothes? Because Victoria taught me by crafting the sweater that this v-vile creature just stole!"

"Jyuzou," Morio muttered.

"Better check if your cool cloak is still there." he rolled his eyes.

"Jyuzou!" Morio raised his voice. "Haven't you noticed?"

"What?" Jyuzou tilted his head.

"There are no animals here," he added. "Only us two..." he glanced forwards. "...and that demon."

The two stood up, staring forward, greeted by an eerie silence, broken by a humming wind. Morio tried his best to make out at least a bird that sang its songs but was met with emptiness.