The wind howled through the cracks of the farmhouse, rattling the loose boards and roofing. All the survivors gathered near the center of the room, sharing collected body heat. The animals did the same, huddling close to each other.

Lyra shivered as a rogue gust blew up her back, startling her awake. Thanks to a dimly lit lantern, she was able to see but not much. She traced the light to its source and found Aeris sitting at the edge of the loft. Lyra got up with her cloak wrapped tightly around her and walked to her. She gently placed her hand on Aeris' shoulder as she sat, letting her know she was there.

Aeris rested her head on Lyra's shoulder and said, "What are we going to do with all these people?"

Lyra was still half asleep but knew Aeris needed her attention. "What do you mean?" She asked, needing the elaboration.

"They lost their home, forced to live a life they don't want. Kogeer isn't going to accept them.

"How do you know that Kogeer won't accept them?" Lyra finally understood. "When did they decide that?"

"Well, they hadn't, not yet."

"Then why are you determining their fates before you try to fight for them?"

"It's not that easy."

"Nothing we have done so far has been easy, Aeris. We're at the start of something new, something that's going to change the future for good or for bad."

Aeris lifted her head from Lyra's shoulder and looked deep into your eyes. The sky was her eyes, looking for guidance within hers. "Are you certain things will get better?"

The question, like a loaded crossbow pointed at Lyra's head. "With you leading the way, I'm sure of it!"

· · ─ · ◯☽✵☾◯ · ─ · ·

Draven found himself floating through the endless corridors, mindful of his breath this time. He noticed the corridors had a source of light going down all of them. If he looked close enough, there were lines going up and down; string-like material flowed like a highway that created the frames of the scenes.

He thought about the cave entrance he used to sneak into the Overworld, and it appeared. First he observed it and found a place amongst the gravel that would serve as his second try. Due to his inability to master his magic at the moment, he was only capable of doing only this, which took a lot out of him. The space around him warped again, and he caught himself before he crashed to the ground. He hurried to the entrance, forgetting how dark it was to start. It felt like months had passed since he last used this cave.

A sudden chill ran down his spine, and the hairs on his arms stood as a sudden cold blew through the cave. He assumed it was winter in the Overworld with how dreadful the daggering cold felt. But he knew it would mean one thing.

Light began to pour in the closer he got to the river, but it was very dim due to the gray clouds. Draven didn't hear the usual roar of the running water—it was reduced to a measly trickle within the ice. Even still, he treaded carefully to cross; each step was light as if he would fall through.

A deep sigh of relief escaped his lips once he made it to the other side. With some twists and turns, he found his way into the Overworld. He was met with a sheet of ice and snow covering his entry. No matter how much he pushed, he couldn't break through.

Draven decided to use his power again. A pain shot through his nerves like wool catching fire. He was overexerting his Source, but he pushed through. Once again the space around him warped, entering the dimension. He imagined Lyra, but his Source couldn't register his thoughts. He settled for the orchard as it allowed him to view that. Bracing for the cold, he found himself lying on the snow, his being weak with every fiber. It was more comfortable in the dimension, he thought, as his vision faded to black.

· · ─ · ◯☽✵☾◯ · ─ · ·

Beams of sunlight seeped through the cracks of the barnhouse. The storm that raged the night before became nothing but a listless wind. Though the storm passed, the cold did not. The barnhouse did its job in providing shelter, but the morning warmth was not existent at this time. It was hot enough, however, for the sun to melt the snow-capped building. Causing leaks within the roofing.

A droplet landed on Lyra's cheek, causing her to get up and shake her head. Most of the survivors have already gotten up, Aeris being one of them. Lyra looked for Kaelen, who was sleeping soundly on his mother's lap. Lyra felt vicariously the warmth of that embrace, and memories of her mother flooded her head. Pushing her way through the pain, she forced a smile on her face.

"We should get going," she whispered to Kaelen's mom. "The sun will melt the snow, but once it sets, it will freeze."

"The morning is still young, Ms. Lyra. Let the boy rest; we will catch up once everyone has left."

Lyra nodded her head with a smile, continuing her route down the stairs of the loft. She stood by Aeris as she directed the survivors. Now that the snowstorm has passed, the visibility was as far as the eye could see. From where they stood, they saw the wall of the fourth ring just several miles away—the skyline of the upper ring's building was a relieving sight for them.

Aeris nodded her head at the lady as she watched the last of the survivors leave the barn. Aeris turned to Lyra, but she shook her head, as she knew Kaelen and his mother were still in the barnhouse. But to her surprise, Kaelen walked into the light of the sun with his mother in tow.

"We are grateful," said Kaelen, his head bowing as he made his way with the rest of the survivors.

Lyra saw from the corner of her eye Aeris' head bow as well. Lyra wasn't one to understand gestures, so she never practiced them, believing it would be awkward if she started now.

Their march began, and this time, with a little more hope than what they started with.

· · ─ · ◯☽✵☾◯ · ─ · ·

Draven awoke to the sound of crackling flames. The air was stuffed with floating dust affecting his inhales. At first his eyes scanned the room while his head lay still—as far as he knew, he was in enemy territory. But something felt off, however not in a bad way.

He saw that the kitchen area was a mess, and the whole place seemed to be rummaged for goods. Whatever warm home this was, it became a shell of itself.

Draven shot up from, what he gathered was, a sofa, seeing from the corner of his eye a figure move. But once his eyes reached their suspicious destination, not even a trace of a person was there.

The sun beat through the cracked windows, helping with the heat—but only partially. He got up from the sofa and began to look around. Some snow had settled in from the cracked windows, allowing the occasional light wind to enter.

He began to walk with caution, his footsteps creaking the boards of the unkempt floors. Draven approached what seemed to be a dinner table, and just to his left was the exit. He ran through the doorway with haste, his feet imprinting in the snow. Eventually his boots met cobblestone as he ran into a road. The sun warmed his cheeks, filling his body with a heat that spread through him like wildfire. He noticed the voices and the clattering of horse hooves on the stone. The air was clean; the skies weren't painted red as far as the eye could see.

Draven somehow made it into the Kingdom of Kogeer.

His heart raced at the thought of running into Lyra again. Another friend he hoped he made, though his interactions with her would have been better in other circumstances.

His feet began to march, but as he traveled the cobblestone path, he realized that he had no directional clue as to where he was going. Draven tried to access his Source, but it felt faint—if he used it one more time, it could spell catastrophe for him. Another fact dawned on him: he's never been inside upper rings.