Great.
Bellows shattered my ears, desperate screaming in the realm that shook me to my core. We all froze mid step. Many voices, male and female, of all ages, in all directions. They bounced within my mind, ricocheting through the emptiness and taking root, dull murmurs staying behind.
If we survive receiving this trident fragment, I’m questioning the shit out of the crew on the next two Bounds, I thought, making the promise as I scoured for the source of the cries.
A soothing pull drew my soul inward, the rhythm unsteady, almost mocking, like it knew something I didn’t. My mind had always been my first weapon, even as the haze in my skull began chaining memories back where they belonged.
We hesitantly continued trudging forward, my legs trembling as we ascended a hill’s spine. Every movement slowed like rust creeping into the gears of an aging machine. The flames never advanced, but the heat bore into me until sweat copiously dripped along my body and into my eyes.
A cool breeze slipped over my skin, soft at first, then sharper as if it knew exactly where the heat lingered. It traced along my arms and throat lifting stray strands of slicked hair. My eyes drifted closed, allowing the cool air to steal my warmth and replace it with heavy sighs.
“Did it work, or should I try mouth-to-mouth next?” Noctis’s feral grin flashed as my eyes flitted open.
“I’d rather drown,” I shot at him. I would not admit that without the cool touch, I may not have made it to the crest of the hill.
“Can merfolk dro—”
A sharp, clipped yelp rang behind us, cut short like he’d swallowed the rest of it. I whirled. A set of tatter-clothed, dust-wrapped bones gripped a writhing Calvin by the wrists, solid ivory bearing deep across the throat of my friend. The skeleton took off, Calvin’s draped body leaving ruts in the sand as he fought. He twisted in the bone’s arms, body coiling and recoiling like he couldn’t decide which way to escape. His breath broke into frantic gasps.
He was too far already. How?
The air around them opened into darkness, a barbed-edged belt of desolate void. The skeleton dragged Calvin through, and they disappeared inside, the splintered rift swallowing them both whole.
Zahara bolted toward the vanishing sliver in the air, sliding frantically down the hill we had nearly topped. Her arms spiraled, shoving at the sand to propel her quicker, head shaking back and forth. She was brutally rageful. Hysterical despair covered her face, her eyes widening as she shot her attention in every direction. Her breathing quickened, each inhale sharp and audible. The heat stood no chance at slowing her.
She locked in place, time seeming to stall as she stared ahead at the endless field of spiked bodies, her eyes distant.
My own mind scurried as we watched from the top of the slope, my heart shattering in helplessness as I watched Zahara erupt.
“No,” she muttered. “No…” Her knees crashed into the sand, and she screamed, a wild bellow, deep within that rattled the skeletal remains ahead. A scream that she had held inside for far too long, festering in emotion for years until something snapped. And Zahara finally did.
I knew how much she loved Jun and Calvin, how their existence gave reason to continue her own. How her losses were so excruciating, that she clung to them for solace. How they clung to each other.
We gathered behind her as she slammed her fists into the ground repeatedly, sending dust at the impact. I knew not how to help, but I knew we’d save him—the one who’d saved me twice already.
Zahara stood and shot her gaze at us, a snarl lifting her nose and corner of her mouth like a wild, rabid animal. Ravenous.
“Let’s go get him back,” I whispered, the same anguish festering beneath my skin, ready to erupt. I had grown to love Calvin. Grown to love his presence. He made heavy moments feel lighter, not by fixing them, but by being a part of them.
We stormed back over the hill’s massive crest, exhaustion no feat to the determination surging through us all. As we topped the sandy slope again, Jun dropped to his stomach.
“Down!” he whispered urgently and pointed. We all obeyed, crawling toward Jun’s side. The hill fell away at our fingertips, unfolding into a vast, even stretch of lowlands beyond.
The expanse of flames radiated light, bouncing off the ivory skulls of vertical, marching skeletal guards wrapped in onyx fabric uniforms. Chips peppered their dull armor, but the soldiers’ presence radiated something far colder than death—obedience without will, purpose without soul. They lined a circular cave-like dugout from the sand, fleshless and silent. When they moved to march, it was with the exact, deliberate rhythm of soldiers who had never stopped as if working on a timer like the village above.
“The Xemaari,” Noctis murmured, his eyes trailing each one, calculating their movements. “The trident must be in there.”
“How are we supposed to make it through them all?” I whispered, but the group laid there for a moment before anyone could answer.
“I’ll go first,” Zahara insisted as she pushed off the ground to stand.
Noctis grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the ground hastily.
“Let me go, Noctis, or I will pray to every god there is and tell them where you hide. You’re acoward,” Zahara spat.
A flash of pain flickered over his features.
“What’s the point in saving Calvin if you die, huh? At least let me use my powers to take out as many as I can first,” he seethed lowly.
