The first scouts came back a little after midday.
"North team," Theo called, as three figures jogged into the bowl, sweat-damp and dust-streaked. They looked tired, but not shattered. Their eyes were too wide, but their steps were even.
She stepped into the tent with Theo and Dav as the north lead—Reese's oldest cousin—took a long drink, wiped his mouth, and set his shoulders.
"Report," she said.
"North." His voice came out a little hoarse but steady. "There's a lake."
He tipped his head back as if looking at something far above his head. "Huge. You can see it from the treeline—water all the way to the horizon on that side. Clear. Fish, probably."
He continued. "Thought we'd hit the jackpot. Clean water, flat banks for settlement, trees for cover. Then the island moved."
He swallowed. "Turtle. Like… you know the big shopping centre back home? That size. Shell like a hill. I thought it was just a weird-shaped bit of land until it blinked."
Someone swore under their breath.
"Boars, too," one of his teammates put in, voice thin. "Whole herd of them. Looked normal for the first few seconds, then the spines lit, actual flame, just… running along their backs. Didn't burn them, didn't burn the grass either."
A few people winced.
"And an antelope," the lead said faintly. "Running through the sky."
The circle stared.
"As in…?" Joel prompted.
"As in, it was about four metres off the ground and just kept going like the air was solid, hooves making no sound at all." He exhaled. "Didn't look at us. Just… existed."
Silence settled over the circle. A held breath, stretched thin.
Then from somewhere at the back, a voice said, almost conversationally:
"…f**k."
No one turned to see who it was. They all felt the same way.
"It's a fantasy world, then," the voice added, a little flatter.
The words rippled through them—picked up, echoed, changed. A disbelieving huff here, a low laugh there. A few people tipped their heads back, as if hoping someone up there would disagree.
No one did.
Talia felt her mind float for a second, like her soul had stepped half a pace back from her body to stare at the image—turtle-island, flaming boars, sky antelope. The Roc. It was too much. Too big. Too… not-Earth.
Then, like a rubber band, it snapped her back in.
"Risk rating?" she asked.
The north lead swallowed, thinking. "Water is good. Resources everywhere but everything near it is… apex-level. Big. Strong. Weird." He rubbed his hands once on his pants. "We'd be fighting every day just to stand near it."
Theo's charcoal scratched. "North: high-resource, high-risk. Deferred."
Talia nodded. "Thank you. Take a rest."
They stepped to the back of the circle.
East and South came in halfway through North's report.
The east lead, a lean woman with wind-chapped cheeks, stepped forward first. Her hands were steady on the cup someone handed her, but her eyes kept flicking sideways, as if checking corners no one else could see.
"Eastern ridge," she said. "About 9 kilometres away. It's… a wall."
She held one hand vertically in front of her to demonstrate. "Sheer. I couldn't see the top, it just kept going, no paths, no breaks, no tracks. Quiet too, no beasts, no birds. Just rock and… quiet."
"Quiet how?" Dav asked.
She grimaced. "The kind that feels like someone's already watching and listening. Not like we were prey. More like… trespassers." She met Talia's eyes. "Whatever owns that wall doesn't share."
Theo raised his head. "Marking it as 'owned territory—unknown landlord, high-risk'. Agreed?"
A few people nodded without meaning to. They were all learning the land's new language at a fast pace.
"South," Talia said.
The southern scout stepped forward carrying a bundle tucked under one arm.
"Temperate forest," she reported. "Canopy not too dense. Mixed species— spotted a few stone rabbits and horned beasts." She gestured at the bundle. "Samples for the plant teams. I erred on 'grab anything that doesn't look like instant death'."
A small pocket of plant researchers visibly brightened, hands already twitching for the bundle.
"Beasts?"
"Plenty of signs," she said, "We brought back five carcasses. Nothing that tried to take us apart. Yet."
She hesitated. "It felt… cooler under the trees. Leaves starting to turn, a lot of dry crunch underfoot. If I had to guess, I'd say the forest is in early autumn."
A murmur went round the circle. A different kind of unease this time. Winter.
Talia exhaled through her nose, looking up at the strip of sky. "We log it," she said. "We'll need winter plans. But today we focus on shelter, water and food. Food we've ticked." She looked back at the southern scout. "Good work. Next."
West didn't stumble. They didn't shake. They just stood with the blank, over-focused look of people whose brains were still trying to process what their eyes had seen.
Collie, usually quick with a joke—came to the front. She looked… normal. That was almost worse.
"Report," Talia said.
She looked at Dav instead, as if the words needed anchoring.
"Dragon," She said, mild as if commenting on the weather. "There's a dragon, Dav."
The circle didn't explode. No one screamed. No one fainted. The silence that dropped was heavier than all of that.
Dad exhaled slowly and muttered, "Of course there is," hands scrubbing over his face.
"Details," Dav said, gently.
Collie's jaw worked once. "We headed west. Forest first—not too bad. Same as south. Then the ground started climbing. We could see ice ahead—big peaks, bigger than any range back home. Got near the base and…"
He mimed something lancing down in front of her. "Ice spear. Straight into the ground, ten metres ahead. No sound before. No warning."
She looked up, as if seeing it again. "We did the reasonable thing and looked up. There it was… in the clouds… blue. Scales. Wings. Big. Western style dragon, looking right at us."
She swallowed. "I waved."
"You what?" Joel said weakly.
"What else do you do?" Collie snapped, then huffed. "Didn't seem interested in diplomacy. Second spear came down, closer. We decided that was the line."
"We backtracked," her teammate cut in quietly. "It didn't chase at first. Just… watched. You know when someone stares at you across a room? Like that but from the sky." He rubbed his arms as if remembering goosebumps. "Once we hit what felt like the edge of the forest, a third spear hit behind us. Close enough to throw ice chips into our backs. That was the last we saw. When we stepped back into the meadow bowl, the feeling dropped."
Dav exhaled slowly. "Territory line," he said. "It warned instead of erasing you. That's… organised." He looked at Talia. "Still a hard no."
"Agreed," she said.
When the Southeast team stood, the circle was ready—tight with tension, but steady. They'd heard lake monsters and dragons. The scale for "bad news" had been recalibrated.
The SE lead looked… tired, but quietly pleased. Like he alone had achieved something momentous.
"The forest is similar to the south," he started. "Same kind of small beasts, same early-autumn feeling." He let that sit for a beat, then added, "We kept pushing east at about twelve kilometres, the trees broke."
He drew a line in the air with two fingers. "Theres a river running out of the mountain range. Clear. Fast, but not insane. Riverbanks have decent footing."
He hesitated, then allowed himself a small grin. "Spotted tracks along it. Mostly herbivores, rabbits-that-aren't, deer-ish things, new kinds. No big claw marks or markings of strong beasts. No feeling of being told to leave."
The exhale this time was different, shoulders relaxed. Grandma closed her eyes and just sat there, breathing.
"You all realise you're calmer hearing about dragons than rivers?" Talia said, eyebrow lifting.
"Trauma recalibrated the scale," Dav said. "You're the sane one now. That's the real concern."
That got a softer ripple. Not hysterical; just… human.
Theo's charcoal scratched fast. "Southeast: moderate resources, stable water source, low visible apex sign. Tentative best option."
When the last notes were logged, Talia pushed herself up to stand.
She let the circle settle, their attention turning toward her. Old habit. She'd done versions of this in meeting rooms and hospital corridors, in kitchens and living rooms. This was just… a higher-stakes boardroom.
"Summary," she said. "North: giant lake, apex-level wildlife, sky antelope. We'd be fighting for water every day. No thankyou."
She lifted a hand, lowering a finger.
"East: towering mountain wall with an invisible landlord. No tracks. Cold shoulder. Marked as avoided." Another finger lowered.
"South: forest with good resource potential, small beasts. Lacks stable water we can reach easily, for now. Second choice." Three fingers stayed standing.
"West: dragon territory with clear borders and a clear 'do not disturb' policy. We're not testing how patient it is." One down, two left.
A dry snort from somewhere near the back.
"Southeast: river, moderate wildlife, no obvious apex. Best starting point." She drew an imaginary line in the air, mirroring the cartographer's map. "Forest south first, then hook southeast toward the river and mountains. We aim for a settlement that backs onto rock for defence and has water on tap." Hand clenched, thumb raised.
She let the picture hang there, simple and solid. Forest. River. Stone wall at their backs.
"Objections?" she asked.
People looked at each other, at their hands, at the grassy ground. Some were still too stunned to move. A few lifted shoulders in tiny shrugs that meant, What else is there?
"Hands for yes," she said.
Hands rose. Not all at once—no cinematic wave. Just tired, deliberate lifts. One here, three there, a cluster on the far side. Enough.
She nodded once. "Done."
For the first time since they'd arrived in the meadow, she felt her mind clicking into a different gear. Not just reacting, planning.
After the main meeting broke, the work of telling people began.
"They don't need cushioning," Talia told Theo quietly as they walked back toward the camp's centre. "They need truth and a path."
"So," he said. "Grandma's specialty, then."
She made a face at him. He didn't deny it.
Leaders from the meeting took turns summarising the reports to their own circles, keeping the wording consistent. North: beautiful but lethal. East: owned. South: promising forest. West: dragon, do not poke. Southeast: river, herbivores, starting point.
Reactions diverged.
A couple of people listened through "dragon" and "sky antelope," then quietly excused themselves and walked straight to the Mind-Healing tent, faces strained.
Others clung hard to "river" and "herbivores" as if those words were life rings.
"At least we won't die thirsty," someone muttered.
"If I have to choose," another said faintly, "I'll fight a pig before a dragon."
The mood wasn't cheerful. Grief and fear still sat heavy. But they sat beside something else now.
Direction.
Grandma Elene summed it up later, sitting by the fire with a cup wrapped in her hands. "They listened," she said softly, eyes reflecting flame. "They were afraid. But they didn't spiral. Fear doesn't drown them now. It's just… there beside them now."
Talia didn't say anything to that, just let the words sink in and settle.
We're almost ready.