A/N: The formatting is a little weird because I had to write this on my phone, sorry! My wifi is being super weird :( Anyway, let me know what you think of the story so far! I hope you're still enjoying it!

When Flare woke up, she was resting on something soft and feathery. She pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes and stretching her tired muscles, and realized that she was on top of the Great Aztec Gold Albatross, flying high above the earth. Her backpack had been placed on her back when she left, thankfully, otherwise she would have been without most of her supplies. Clutching tight to the bird's long feathers, Flare dared to look down at the land below. They flew over fields, rivers, forests, and as she watched, she could just barely see the few clusters of people or animals moving about. Heights had never bothered Flare, so she simply held on tight and hoped that the albatross would keep flying. However, something compelled her to look over the edge of the bird's wing one last time at the fields below, and as she did, she saw a crimson dot racing across the pasture spattered with cows.
    "Abby!" Flare yelled, and she felt like she was going to cry. Abby had escaped! Flare urgently tugged on the bird's feathers, but the bird descended no lower. The zomancer had probably given instructions to the bird to fly without stopping, and that was what the bird was doing.
    "Go down," Flare pleaded the bird, wishing that she knew the magical language with which the zomancers communicated with the animals. "Please," Flare begged, but knew it was futile. The bird continued soaring through the sky, and she simply hoped that they were close to their destination and that Abby could keep running long enough. Until then, Flare figured she would let herself rest, as the tranquilizer had really worn down on her mind and body. As soon as she let her eyelids droop, she was asleep.
    When Flare awoke next, she was lying at the front of the forest, at the base of the bird's enormous frame. The golden bird leaned down to investigate Flare, and when it saw that her eyes were open and she was moving, it leapt off into the sky and flew away. Flare decided it would be a good time to examine her surroundings. As she looked around, she noticed that the sun had just begun to leave the sky and was melting over the horizon, leaving a warm glow of orange against the darkening forest. Her backpack was still securely on her back. She stood up, slowly, as so not to send the blood rushing to her head, when she heard a small meow and remember Abby.
    "Abby?" she yelled hopefully, and looked out across the clearing to see the crimson cat bounding towards her. Flare squatted down and Abby leapt into Flare's outstretched arms with a loud mewl.
    "Abby!" Flare cried, tightly squeezing the cat to her chest. Abby squirmed free of Flare's grasp and began hopping up and down with a sense of hurry. Flare's joy flitted away and became a feeling of urgency.
    "What is it?" she asked, leaning in close. Abby itched at the nape of her neck with her hind foot rapidly. Flare picked up the cat and felt at the base of her neck, searching for anything that signified something out of the ordinary, when she discovered a small, hard bump. It was practically undetectable, but if you did manage to find it, you knew it wasn't supposed to be there. The purpose or origin of the lump was unknown, but after pondering it for a moment, it clicked. A tracker. Instantly, Flare knew she had to get it out somehow, but how? The zomancers were undoubtedly tracking Abby as Flare sat there, wasting time away.
    "We'll have to find a chronomancer or something that can help us," Flare said, slipping Abby into her backpack. "There's definitely a community around here somewhere," Flare mumbled as she surveyed the dark forest around them. It was exactly the type of place that chronomancers would make their home in - wooded, closed off, and beautifully dark. Just like themselves. Chronomancers moved and breathed with a mysterious dark energy that had surrounded them long before time. They had seen things, done things, created things, and Flare had never spoken with one in person, but from what she had heard, they were mysterious and formidable people that required caution. Some chronomancers had been known to abuse their powers.
Flare adjusted the backpack on her shoulders, making sure Abby was comfortable, and set on her way deep into the woods to find a village. As she walked, she realized keeping Abby with her probably wasn't the smartest idea, but she couldn't bear to leave Abby alone. She would get taken without Flare there to protect her, but then again, Flare would most likely be taken too. The zomancers had tranquilizers, strength, and animals to do their dirty work. Flare didn't stand a chance, that was true, but Abby probably stood less of a chance if she was left alone. As Flare continued walking, the forest darkened even further until Flare could barely see. The dusky glow disappeared and was replaced by darkness, threatening to swallow her whole. Suddenly, Flare heard a long meow from Abby. She took off the pack and unzipped her.
"What is it?" Flare asked softly. "Can you help me find a village? Somewhere to rest?"
Abby's ears perked up and she began trotting through the underbrush. Flare scurried after her, struggling to make her way through the trees that she couldn't see until they were inches away from her face. The cat, however, seemed to be fine, carving a path through the fallen leaves with ease. Soon, it got dark enough that Flare could barely seen and had to rely on the crunching of Abby's paws on the leaves to guide her. In fact, it was so dark that every once in awhile, Flare needed to look up past the trees, as far as she could, and squint up at the tiny glowing stars that provided a solace of comfort, to remind her that she was real and alive. Because in the forest, Flare had began to notice that her senses were becoming muddled. She had been in forests before, but this one was different; she felt unreal and detached, like she was inhabiting a simple vessel instead of her own body. As she stared into the darkness of the forest, she felt as if she was staring into something that she wasn't even sure existed, which made her question if anything really existed. She had no sense of time, she was unsure if she had been walking for two hours or two minutes. Just as the sound of Abby's paws began to grow muddled and Flare was convinced she couldn't go any longer, she saw a light in the distance. Abby meowed excitedly and began running towards it, and as if Flare had been released from the grasp of a strange force, her senses were shocked back into reality and she was able to run towards the source of the light. As she drew closer, she discovered that the light was coming from inside a small house. It was mossy and abandoned, made out of stone and nothing else, with the exception of a creaky wooden door. Otherwise, the windows had no shutters or anything, leaving Flare to wonder why not. Other houses of the same variety surrounded the other house in the shape of a circle, with a small clearing in the center. There were no trees in the clearing or near the houses, just dry, dull grass. A few of the houses were glowing with the light of lanterns, but not many. Flare crouched behind a bush with Abby next to her, observing the scene.
"What do you think, Abby?" Flare whispered. "Should we go in?" With no response from the cat, Flare decided to enter the nearest house, remembering to keep her guard up.
Flare stood outside the wooden door that led to the glowing house. Warm yellow light poured out of the plentiful cracks, tempting and inviting, yet her heart still pounded and her hands shook. After a moment of frozen standing in front of the door, she tentatively reached her hand out and knocked. As she did, from the inside of the house, she heard the creaking of what she assumed was a piece of furniture, and soon enough the door slowly began to swing open.
In front of her stood an old woman. Her hair was long and surprisingly thick for her age, and it wasn't a white or gray, it looked like a shiny silver. Her frame appeared as if she was rather athletic in a time long gone, and she was fairly tall as well, leading Flare to believe that she would be almost intimidating if the pyromancer had seen her many years ago. She didn't look particularly kind, but not malicious, either; perhaps the best word to describe her would be weathered. Weathered by the hands of time, by the ancient progression of the universe, by the replaceable nature of life itself. Looking at her reminded Flare that time is constantly tugging at the fabric of life with old hands, tearing away the fraying threads one by one, and for a miniscule moment Flare thought that she could hear him speak. Soon, time whispers to all of us in a soft voice we can rarely hear. Soon your time will come.
"Can I help you?" the old woman said. Flare realized she had been staring, and she quickly snapped herself out of her trance.
"Yes, please," Flare said softly. "May I come inside?"
"Yes, of course," she said, although her sigh indicated the opposite. Nevertheless, Flare, holding Abby, went inside. The house was extremely small, but not crowded. All it contained was a small bed in the corner, a tiny kitchen, a table and two chairs, and a long shelf that contained quite a few bottles and containers, as well as lots of books. There was a tiny room in the corner with a thin door that Flare assumed was a bathroom. Everything was made with either old wood or stone, giving the room a rustic and ancient atmosphere.
"I was just brewing some tea. Care for any?" The woman asked, walking over to the kitchen as she gestured for Flare to sit down. Despite her age, the woman seemed nimble and able to move around well.
"Sure, thank you," Flare said, realizing the cold that had seeped it's way into her bones. The house was warm, which helped, presumably from the stove.
"My name is Early," the woman said, handing Flare a hot cup of tea in a chipped porcelain cup.
"I'm Flare," Flare said, taking a hesitant sip of her drink. "I felt some weird time stuff going on while I was on my way here, was that you?"
"Most likely a chronomancer messing with you, but not me," Early laughed. "Well, Flare, you seem like you could use a place to rest for a while."
"I could, but that's not the reason I'm here," Flare responded, suddenly remembering her purpose. "It's a rather long story, but my cat got a tracker put in her and I need to get it out."
"I can do that easily," Early said with a nod. "In exchange for getting to hear this rather long story of yours."
"Okay," Flare smiled, showing Early where the tracker was.
"Follow me, you can watch me take it out if you want. Or, how insensitive of me, you can take a shower and get some food. You seem exhausted," Early said, pushing open the door to what Flare had thought was the bathroom. Instead, it led to a staircase, descending steeply into the earth. Flare, surprised, began following Early until they reached a room filled with even more books. They were countless, shelves stretching around the room, completely filled with old, thick books. Lanterns lit the basement dimly, and as Flare looked around, she saw more corridors leading to different places underground.
"What are all the corridors for?" Flare asked as Early brought Abby to a table full of nearly lined instruments.
"Us chronomancers used to have an intricate system of tunnels between our houses. We closed it off when things started to get... rough between one another. Technically, you aren't allowed to be down here, but it's not like the village is doing too well these days," Early explained as she shifted through her tools. "Will I need to give put your cat to sleep? I only wish have a little bit of anesthetic left."
"She's well behaved. I think she'll cooperate," Flare said, watching as Early dabbed the fur on top of the tracker with some sort of plant soaked in liquid. "But what do you mean the village isn't doing too well these days?"
"It looks like we'll have a lot to discuss once I fix your cat, won't we?" Early smiled, amused. "Now I have to concentrate, but you're welcome to stay. Bathroom is down that hallway on the left if you want to take a shower."
"I'll stay and watch," Flare said, and she did. Early neatly cut a small line in Abby's neck, and Abby lay quietly as Early worked with excellent precision.
"Shit," Early said under her breath.
"What's wrong?"
"Whoever put this tracker in her really has the science down," Early said with a grimace. "The tracker releases a chemical into her bloodstream, as you can see from this little jet right here. I've seen some of these before, so based on the structure of the tracker, I'd assume the chemical is specific to abyssinians. Basically, what this type of tracker does is release a chemical that acts like a drug into her body every half hour or so until her body becomes reliant on it. The drug doesn't have any side effects usually, but you can't remove it unless you want her to go into withdrawal," Early said, seeming defeated. "Eventually the drug runs out, but it weans her off of it, and that could take months."
"What are our options?" Flare asked with desperation.
"How badly do you need this tracker removed?" Early asked incredulously.
"Badly. And soon."
"I suppose we can wait a few hours and collect a couple doses of the drug, then we can remove the tracker and slowly wean her off the drug," Early suggested. "That works most of the time, although it is risky."
"A few hours might be too long," Flare said quietly.
"There's one other option," Early started to say, but she seemed reluctant. "I can remove the tracker, cut it open, and collect all the fluid from it. Then we can wean her off it."
"How is that a bad option?" Flare asked.
"Let me finish. One wrong move, and the tracker will release a dosage of poison gas into the air. It will probably be a color, or have an odor, so we'll be able to detect it quickly. But even still, it'll kill us within minutes."
"Do you think you can do it?"
"My skill level is high enough, but it'll be risky," Early warned Flare.
"If you think you're capable," Flare said. "I'll owe you for the rest of my life," she pleaded.
"I expect to hear what's so special about this cat when you tell your story to me," Early smiled. "Okay, Flare, here's what we're going to do. You go upstairs and shut the door as tight as you can. I'll be about half an hour. If I'm longer than an hour, get out of here before the gas can escape upstairs."
"This seems dangerous," Flare said, beginning to question her decision. She didn't want to put Early in danger.
"I'm just taking precautions. I'll most likely be fine. Just go upstairs and wait for me," Early said, turning her attention back to Abby.
"Thank you, Early," Flare breathed.
"You're welcome, Flare," Early said with a soft smile.