Fig knew that her plan was ridiculous. The lights weren't even half way descended yet, and she was preparing to venture out into the crisp chill of the jungle for the sake of her own curiosity. There was something in her that needed this. She needed to fulfill that aching desire within her. She knew it wouldn't take long. She'd be back in plenty of time to weed out the garden. It was the fact that it was still so early in the day, and freezing to death was still a possibility—that's what was worrying her.

Leaving a simple note for her friends, informing them that she'd be back later in the day, she made her way up the carved stairs in the center of the tree. Stepping out into the grey shimmer of the awakening morning, Fig breathed out a heavy cloud of crystalized air, basking in the stillness around her. There were no noisy villagers at work or chirping forest life. Only silence. It was pleasant and beautiful... until she inhaled. The icy wind skittered down her throat with an aching pain. The dry chill on her throat had her choking into the still morning, but it was useless. Every time she tried to breathe in she would just begin coughing all over again.

She cupped her palms around her mouth, hoping to create some heat within the small pocket of her hands. Once she regained control of her body, she pulled her scarf around her face and flipped her hood up over her head. With a satchel packed with waterskins and food, Fig set off for the crystal caves.

The ice beneath her bormus skin-covered feet had yet to fully melt, creating light popping and crackling noises as she took each step. The sounds almost seemed to echo between the shimmering, frozen trees, intensifying the hush of the sleeping land. A hint of sweet licorice drifted through the breeze as the sassafras trees began to thaw, permeating the air with their scent. The day was crisp—fresh—and seemed to hum with an excitement similar to that which was coursing through Fig's veins.

She'd made sure to bundle in several loose layers of clothing in hopes of creating the best insulation, and so far it seemed to be working. As she picked up her pace, her body hurried to generate more heat to match the pumping of her heart.

She arrived at the crystal caves and glanced down into the dark abyss. She knew the danger of scaling the walls of the slick cavern, especially now that a thin layer of frost coated the stones. Fig pulled her dagger from the laces tied around her calves, and carefully began her climb down. The knife didn't do much good, as the layer of ice was too thin for the blade to penetrate and hold. Eventually she gave up and shoved the knife back into her bindings.

As her fingertips grew numb, climbing became increasingly more difficult, her fingerless gloves doing little to warm her hands. Fortunately, she still maintained enough feeling to maneuver her way down the wall. Her only alternative would have been to bind her hands completely, which would only make climbing that much harder. For one accustomed to always being barefoot and gloveless, the added layers were quite an adjustment.

With precise, calculated movements, Fig worked her way to the bottom of the pit. She let out a nervous breath, her limbs vibrating with the adrenaline screaming through her body. She shook it off, a smile dancing on her lips at the sheer bliss of such a risk. She felt powerful, like she could conquer anything. The excitement spurred her forward.

She was confident and unstoppable as she wound her way through the deadly spikes of crystal and ice that shot up from the ground. But she was forced to reevaluate her brief moment of arrogance when her foot hit a patch of thick ice. One minute she was walking with pride, the next, the air was knocked from her lungs as she landed flat on her back.

She moaned, her back pulsing with pain from the impact as she tried to get her lungs to work properly again. Rolling to her side she began to chuckle at her own stupidity. Glad that there was no one to witness her clumsy fall, Fig pushed herself back up onto her feet and cautiously made her way to the glowing tunnel ahead.

The pile of dust that once resembled the lifeless form of a ventus was now gone. Grateful that she didn't have to see the poor creature again, Fig continued through the somewhat familiar cave. The small river creatures that she had marveled at before continued to drift by, but none stopped to acknowledge Fig. She didn't mind though, she was on a mission and didn't have time to stop and gawk.

Minutes, that felt like hours, seemed to pass before she found the small crevice spilling with light and she began her climb up to the surface. She was surprised to find that the skies had faded from a dark, charcoal gray to a light silver. Knowing that the day had fully arrived, Fig decided to run the remaining distance, not wishing to waste a single precious moment.

As soon as her feet hit the crispy, dried grass she knew she was close. The air drew hot, searing the wilted ground with its scorching breath. Even the faint brush of wind couldn't penetrate the heat. And yet, something about the atmosphere had Fig clinging just a little tighter to her outerwear, a chill of anticipation scurrying up her spine.

She pushed herself onward, making the most of the time she had. She reached the trees and easily maneuvered her way through fallen limbs and uneven terrain until she spotted the mystical trail ahead.

She slowed her pace, pulling her waterskin from her bag. She guzzled down several mouthfuls, but continued to move forward, her eyes focused on her destination. Yearning fluttered beneath her breasts, her mind racing with the possibilities the end of the trail would reveal.

She was almost disappointed by the anticlimactic moment of first stepping foot on the path. Nothing happened. There was no unexplainable force of energy that erupted beneath her feet. There was no undeniable pull beckoning her forward. Nothing. It was just like any other trail she'd ever walked before.

She wondered if she'd imagined the pull that had guided her here just two days prior. There didn't seem to be any magical charm persuading her to follow the path anymore. There was no higher power summoning her closer. She debated if it had been her own desire driving her forward all along—her own yearning for something new.

Feeling slightly cheated, Fig considered turning and heading home, but quickly brushed off the idea. She knew she'd regret turning back now. She had to at least catch a glimpse of what lay ahead or she'd never let go of the curiosity, which is why she continued to slowly make her way down the path.

That same giddy excitement churned in her gut, and a wicked grin tickled her lips. There was something satisfying about going against the flow of life, to step away from the everyday routine. It was that feeling of breaking the rules. It was freeing and terrifying all at the same time, and Fig loved it.

As she ventured further down the trail, it began to grow darker, and she was grateful for the small amount of light that was able to penetrate the thick foliage of the trees above. Taking careful steps forward, she eventually came to a dead end. She swung around in a circle, hoping to spot a hidden path where she could continue on her way, but there was nothing.

With closer inspection, she noted that the trees in front of her were shaped oddly. They were flat with vines that hung like a curtain, forming some kind of natural wall. She took a cautious step forward, her hand held out so she could feel the strange vine barrier, but instead of the expected sensation of nature, her fingers touched something hard and cold.

Eager to discover the reason, she used both hands to push away the hanging strands, and stood in awe as her eyes glided over a tall wiry contraption. Her fingers brushed over the cold object, trying to decipher what it could possibly be. She sniffed it, tasted it, and tried tearing the strong material apart so she could walk through, but it was hopeless. Exhausted, she leaned her back against the hard barrier, waiting for it to catch her, but it didn't. Confusion circled her mind as she lost her balance, toppling backwards onto her rear end. She landed painfully, angry that the wall had failed to do its job.

Glancing up with a scowl, she realized that she'd fallen through the wall of vines, and was now on the other side. Her eyes caught a worn sign perched at the top of the strange rod-made wall that read "Gate of Zohrul." Her mind played with the word for a moment. Years of schooling had taught her many things, and though she'd seen plenty of 'gates' in her time, never had she seen one of such extravagance. It was remarkable. The material used to built it was foreign to her, and Fig found herself leaning forward to run her fingers along its cold, smooth texture once more, all irritation vanishing as awe filled its place.

Standing quickly, she dusted off her backside and turned to view the world around her. Her eager shoulders slumped when her eyes came to rest on the endless forest of disrobed trees and dried sludge beneath her feet. Life didn't even seem to exist on this side of the gate.

Still, eagerness pulled her forward and she continued down the path. Suddenly the sensation of liquid trickling down her back alerted her to the fact that she was far warmer than she'd been at the beginning of her journey. Setting down her satchel, she began pulling layers of clothing off until she was free from the burden of their added weight. The sensation of air against her naked feet and hands nearly had her singing in relief. She stashed the clothing beside a nearby tree and then sighed, glancing around her.

The forest appeared simple enough to navigate with its sparse trees. It was easy to see clearly into the distance, and from what could be seen, the forest wasn't all that extravagant. It was much smaller than Zohrul, and Fig found a sense of pride prancing through her chest as she began making her way through the trees.

Each step she took would leave a crumbly pile of dust in its wake. Even the trees rotting on the ground seemed to lack moisture. Moss and mold was no where to be seen. From what Fig could tell, the debris laying on the ground had been so sucked dry that they couldn't even continue to rot. Half decayed branches and stumps littered the forest floor. It was a sad sight, and already Fig was ready to turn back. Her already dry lips were now peeling and cracking with need of liquid. This place was nearly unbearable. Still, she continued on.

She'd been walking for nearly half an hour, but still nothing had changed. Her fervent steps began to slow as realization hit her. This place had nothing to offer. It was dead, empty, and lonely. It was pointless to waste her time exploring a place as desolate as this when she should be back home, helping with the daily chores.

A cough snagged in her parched throat, and she pulled a waterskin from he satchel, coating her throat with several gulps of water. She was tired of feeling gritty. Every step she took would only coat her skin in more layers of soot, and was getting nowhere.

She had just convinced herself to turn back around when her eye snagged on something at the end of the trail. It was almost as if the trail just ended. It didn't turn another direction, it was just gone.

Curiosity quickly awoke from a bored slumber, and Fig anxiously made her way towards it. What she saw was nothing she ever could have imagined. She stood at the end of the path, gazing off the nauseatingly elevated cliff and down into a valley—a valley that seemed full of life. The town resembled a three-legged spider, with the largest part of the town in the center and three pathways that led out to smaller villages. The heart of the town is what had captured her attention most.

In the very middle of the scattered villages was a massive dome. It seemed to be made of glass or crystal, and glowed with a powerful light. There was no way to know for sure, but Fig guessed that if she were to lay a tree down horizontally to measure the dome, it would take several hundred to reach from one side to the other. The enormity of it was baffling. Whatever dwelled inside such a space was undoubtedly worth missing a few meals over.

Her mind had gotten ahead of her, and it wasn't until she'd begun searching for a way down that her responsibilities hit her. She stopped for a moment, guilt gnawing at her for being so selfish—for believing this adventure was something she deserved. Her friends deserved this too. She couldn't just suck up all the adventure for herself and then hope they'd be fine with her not including them. That wouldn't be fair. Not at all. They depended on her. Who would pull weeds if Fig decided to explore her entire day away?

An unusual burst of anger ignited the depths of Fig's stomach. She hated the responsibility, the lack of excitement. For once, she just wanted to enjoy a day all to herself. She knew it was hoggish of her, but she just wanted space. She wanted a moment entirely to herself.

But, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself that she deserved this, she couldn't take the necessary steps forward. Maybe she could return later, and bring Sowa and Leb with her.

Sighing in resignation, she turned around, heading for the gate that would lead her back to her prison. She hated that she felt that way, but it was the truth. She kept her head down, kicking at stray pebbles as she grudgingly stomped back down the trail. She reached a fork in the path that she hadn't remembered before, but figured she must have just overlooked it in her haste to see more.

Glancing down one trail and then the other, she battled between which direction to head. Something seemed vaguely familiar about the left trail, so without further thought, she turned on her heels, making her way back home.

She walked on for awhile, but nothing seemed to change. There was no tall gate looming in the distance, no fresh footprints signally she'd walked this path before. Trees seemed to litter the ground and tangled branches that once sprouted life now decorated the forest floor with their carcasses. Everywhere she looked was the same thing. The scenery around her was identical to the scenery she'd witnessed hours before when she'd first began plodding down this trail, and yet, somehow it was still foreign. An abominable sense of dread churned in the lowest parts of her stomach, but she kept on. It wasn't until several more minutes past that realization struck.

She was lost.