Night descended upon us with a swiftness that caught us off guard. Our exhausted bodies moved at a diminished pace, every step a painful reminder of the day's toils. The sounds of our laboured breathing filled the air, and our progress was punctuated by involuntary winces as our movements sent stabs of discomfort through our weary forms. It was evident that exhaustion had taken its toll, threatening to delay our anticipated journey by an entire day's worth of travel. Yet, despite our physical weariness, a sense of relief began to wash over me as the persistent presence that had trailed us for most of the day finally ceased its pursuit. Its sudden withdrawal from our vicinity, however, did little to quell my unease. Its enigmatic behaviour had left me on edge, wondering about its intentions and the true extent of its influence.
A lapis hand gently descended onto my shoulder, the tapping motions catching my attention. I turned to meet the gaze of the blue-skinned tiefling, his hands raised in a thoughtful posture. His words flowed through the silent air, unspoken yet eloquent in their expression. "I can build a fire, if you can gather the wood," his hands signed to me, the visual language carrying his intent effortlessly.
My concern rose as I assessed his proposal, the instinct to protect and defend both myself and my companion battling within me. My hands responded in kind, signing my doubts and fears. "Are you sure that's safe? You're injured and can't defend yourself from whatever is out there," I signed, each motion accompanied by a twinge of pain that resonated through my own mangled hand. The discomfort of signing served as a tangible reminder of the challenges we faced and the risks we were navigating.
His rebuttal was swift, his hands dancing through the air to deliver his point. "It hasn't been following us for the past few hours. We should be safe," he reasoned, his conviction unwavering. His words of reassurance were accompanied by a wry observation that made me chuckle inwardly. "Besides," his hands continued, "I can defend myself. My shoulder isn't as bad as your mauled hand."
His confidence was infectious, and I found myself nodding in agreement, conceding to his logical assessment. As I watched him begin preparations for a fire, I hesitated momentarily before setting out to gather the necessary wood. The forest seemed to hold its breath as I moved through its depths, the snapping of dry branches beneath my feet echoing in the quiet night. Every piece of wood I collected sent a jolt of pain through my injured hand, a stark reminder of my vulnerability and the price I paid for the events of the day. Ignoring the discomfort, I persisted, driven by the shared goal of creating a semblance of warmth and safety in the enveloping darkness.
A resounding snap pierced the air, resonating through the depths of the forest. With a heavy thud, a fallen branch landed on the ground nearby. I kicked the obstructing branch aside, my urgency outweighing my curiosity. But as I leaned down to gather more firewood, my attention was drawn to the peculiar nature of the broken branch. It was a fracture not born of natural decay but rather the result of something heavy resting upon it. My gaze traced upwards along the tree, revealing a sight that sent a shiver coursing down my spine. Copper scales glinted in the moonlight, winding around the tree's trunk and ascending its height. The hairs on my arms stood on end, a foreboding sensation settling over me. The presence of this creature, with its eerie resemblance to the enigmatic being that had trailed us, was unmistakable.
The urgency of the situation gripped me like a vice, and without hesitation, I dropped the firewood I had gathered and broke into a sprint. The world around me blurred as I raced through the forest, my heart pounding in my chest. The sight of Zershoon came into view, and I moved toward him with a determination fueled by fear. As I spun him around to face me, he instinctively raised his fists in defence, only to relax as recognition dawned in his eyes.
"It's time to go! We can't stay here tonight," my hands moved in hurried signing, my motions laden with the weight of my unease. Without wasting a moment, I turned to my backpack and hastily stuffed the notebook and pencil I had been using back into it. Sweat trickled down my forehead, my nerves frayed.
Zershoon's hands gripped my shoulders, a desperate attempt to redirect my focus. I shook his hands off with an urgency that mirrored my racing thoughts, returning to securing my backpack. Frustration radiated from him as he snapped his fingers together in impatience, the furrow of his brows and the press of his lips revealing his annoyance. "What's going on? Why are you in such a hurry?" his signing conveyed, his expression demanding an explanation for my agitated state.
"I saw what was hunting us. It's not something that we could handle in a fight. So we have to go now!" I signed with urgency, my hands moving swiftly to convey the gravity of the situation. Zershoon's nod signalled his understanding, and he swiftly began gathering his belongings and stowing them back into his backpack. Without a moment to spare, we plunged forward through the dense trees, our pace unrelenting as we hurdled over obstacles in our path. I glimpsed Zershoon wincing a few times, his wound aching with each jarring movement, but he pressed on, determined to outrun the pursuer behind us.
The creature's pursuit was palpable; the scrape of tree bark against tree bark and the snap of another branch indicated its proximity. As we sprinted, the forest began to thin, the starlit sky taking on a silver hue as its light reflected off the leaves. The air grew dense with a low-lying fog that snaked its way between the trees. And then, as we burst out of the forest, the creature's pursuit ceased abruptly, its watchful presence receding back into the shadows of the trees. Though it remained concealed, its gaze bore into me, leaving behind a burning sensation that lingered until the forest's creaking announced its retreat.
The grass crumbled beneath our feet as we walked farther away from the forest's edge. A quick glance at Zershoon revealed his fatigue, his movements sluggish and his eyes marred by dark circles. I halted in my tracks, understanding the need for respite. "We're a short distance away from the forest. I think it's safe for us to set up camp and rest here. Whatever it was, it didn't want to leave the forest. At least for now," I communicated through signing.
"Do you think it'll come out? I can keep going for a bit," Zershoon responded, his signing reflecting the weariness in his demeanour.
"It's fine with me if we stop here. We need to rest at some point. We've been awake since yesterday morning," I replied, settling my backpack onto the ground. We found a spot amid the dried grass and seated ourselves, the weight of the day's events and the adrenaline-fueled escape finally catching up to us.
He took a long sip from his waterskin before shifting his attention back to me. "Where are you headed, anyway?" he inquired with genuine curiosity etched into his signing.
"Shuneerean Desert," I replied, my fingers moving through the motions of the name, even though it lacked a convenient sign. The very words seemed to elongate when signed, carrying the weight of its own meaning. His questioning hands conveyed his concern, a sentiment I understood well.
"Why would you go there?" he signed, his hands reflecting his worry about my destination.
"I've heard about it since I was young, and now I want to see it with my own eyes," I explained, a glimmer of hopeful excitement illuminating my expression. As morning sunlight filtered through drifting clouds and the fog lifted from the ground, the surrounding world seemed to awaken. Birds' melodies filled the air, creating a natural symphony that underscored our conversation.
With deliberate grace, Zershoon retrieved his guitar from its resting place, then pulled out a new string from his backpack. I watched as he replaced the broken string, his fingers deftly navigating the process. Once the new string was in place, he adjusted it until it produced the desired sound, then began to strum a new melody. His music intertwined with the birds' songs, each note a testament to his skill and ability to harmonise with his surroundings. Even though he couldn't hear the world around him, he had an innate sense of how to complement it through his music.
As his final notes resonated and faded into the wind, he set the guitar aside. I curled my legs beneath me, sitting comfortably in the grass as I listened to the echoes of his music in my mind. There was an elegance in his musical creations, a language that transcended sound and touched the soul. With a sense of melancholy, I closed my eyes, allowing the peace of the moment to wash over me as I drifted into slumber.
======================
"Run, Asara! Get out of here! Go deeper into the forest!" My mother's desperate cry pierced the air, shattering the stillness of the night. Hot tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as they cascaded down my cheeks. The metallic clang of a sword met my ears, followed by a sickening thud. A gut-wrenching fear twisted within me as I witnessed the blade severing the connection between life and my mother's body. Her blood painted the earth in horrifying strokes, a macabre masterpiece illuminated by the sinister dance of the flames. The fire's flickering glow cast eerie shadows that danced with the tendrils of smoke rising from her lifeless form.
I stood frozen, paralyzed by a potent cocktail of terror, grief, and disbelief. The crackling firelight etched the scene into my memory, a haunting tableau of loss that I could never forget. My heart pounded in my chest like a wild beast desperate to escape, urging me to flee. As my mother's voice echoed in my mind, urging me to escape the same fate, I found my strength. With a surge of primal instinct, I tore my gaze away from the nightmare before me and propelled myself forward, each footfall an agonising reminder of what I was leaving behind.
The forest enveloped me, its looming trees casting elongated shadows that seemed to reach for me with grasping fingers. The underbrush scratched at my legs, leaving thin welts in their wake. My breath came in ragged gasps, the sound mingling with the symphony of my pounding heart and the distant crackle of flames. The hands of the forest seemed to close in around me, a living labyrinth that sought to ensnare me within its dark embrace. I stumbled over gnarled roots and uneven terrain, driven by sheer desperation and a raw need to survive.
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The sound of the world around me seemed to distort, the harsh cacophony of the forest merging with the echo of my mother's final words. Her voice became a lifeline, guiding me through the tangle of trees and undergrowth. "Go deeper, Asara. Keep going!" Her words spurred me onward, a mantra that drowned out the chaos of my own thoughts. The darkness seemed to stretch on endlessly, every step taking me further from the life I had known and deeper into the unknown.
Time blurred as I continued to run, my body moving almost on its own, driven by a combination of fear and a determination to honour my mother's plea. The forest became a blur of shapes and colours, a fevered dream that I couldn't escape. Exhaustion clawed at my limbs, threatening to bring me crashing to the forest floor, but I pushed forward, driven by an unyielding will to survive.
Finally, the forest began to thin, the trees giving way to an open expanse. My chest heaved, and my legs felt like lead, but I had made it. Gasping for breath, I collapsed onto the grassy ground, my body trembling with a mixture of adrenaline and sheer fatigue. As the sounds of the forest whispered around me, I clung to the memory of my mother's voice, her sacrifice propelling me forward and granting me a second chance at life.
My eyes snapped open as the touch of someone's hands jolted me back to consciousness. My heart raced as the remnants of my dream clung to me, a haunting echo of past horrors. Reacting instinctively, I thrust my hands out in front of me, pushing away the intrusion. The world around me shifted from a blurry haze to sharp focus, revealing Zershoon sprawled on the ground before me.
He mimed a gesture, his fist tapping his chest and then moving in a circle. "Sorry," he signed, his body language showing both concern and the aftermath of being pushed aside. He straightened himself out, and I could feel his sceptical gaze on me as if trying to decipher the truth of my situation.
I managed a weak smile, gratitude mingling with embarrassment. "It was just a bad dream. Thank you for waking me up."
His response was a nod, tinged with lingering doubt. "Well, there's a village nearby. We should head there together to restock, and we can return here to discuss the Shuneerean Desert."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden interest in accompanying me to the desert. "You're coming with me to the Desert of Bodies?" My hands formed the words with curiosity, a mixture of surprise and anticipation bubbling within me.
His grin was infectious as he shouldered his backpack. "I want to see it with my own eyes, too."
With our intentions aligned, we set out on our journey, side by side. The landscape transformed as we walked, the palette shifting from the muted tones of the forest to vibrant shades of green. The grass underfoot grew taller, and the distant sound of a roaring river serenaded us, though it remained hidden from view. As we moved forward, small creatures scattered in all directions, their lives a perpetual dance between survival and the ever-watchful predators.
Above us, a hawk soared on outstretched wings, its keen gaze scanning for any sign of movement among the grass. The rhythm of the wild enveloped us, a harmony of creatures navigating their roles in the intricate symphony of nature. In the distance, a herd of deer grazed peacefully in the open plains, their collective awareness turning towards us, cautious but unthreatened.
As we walked, I felt a sense of camaraderie with Zershoon. The unspoken understanding between us was a bond forged through shared experiences and a mutual curiosity for the unknown. With each step, the anticipation of new adventures stirred within me, bolstered by the presence of a companion who saw the world through similar eyes.
The river gradually came into view, its sparkling waters weaving a ribbon of life through the landscape. A lone tree stood sentry on the riverbank, its branches dipping low as if reaching for a taste of the water. Farther on, the village we were aiming for lay nestled in the distance, promising a respite from our travels. I glanced at the river with a mix of weariness and anticipation. Could I trust its waters to soothe my parched throat?
Drawing my waterskin from my backpack, I crouched by the river's edge, feeling the cool breeze on my skin and the warmth of the sun overhead. As I dipped the container into the water, ripples danced across its surface, reflecting the vibrant blue of the sky. The river flowed swiftly but serenely, a testament to the rhythm of nature's eternal dance. I took a cautious sip, letting the crispness of the water quench my thirst. Nearby, a family of herons waded through the shallows, their graceful movements a reminder of the harmony that existed between creatures and their environment.
Satisfied, I placed my waterskin back into my backpack and glanced across the river. Zershoon, unburdened by my cautiousness, strode through the water with his shoes on. Pebbles smoothed by years of water's embrace lined the riverbed beneath his feet, creating a textured mosaic that spoke of time's gentle touch.
Once on the other side, the grass beneath my feet felt like a soft carpet, a welcome contrast to the river's stones. Aware of the villagers' scrutiny, I slipped off my shoes, a pang of vulnerability coursing through me. My fingers deftly wrapped a scarf into a turban, securing it over my hair and face. It wasn't a disguise to fool anyone; it was a layer of protection, a shield against the judgement that so often followed my kind. I noticed Zershoon watching me, curiosity evident in his gaze.
"Do you always do this when interacting with people?" he signed, his fingers moving with a sense of genuine inquiry.
I nodded, my hands echoing my words. "Yes, it's a normal thing for me to do. It makes it easier to navigate villages and cities, to go about my business without drawing too much attention."
As we resumed our journey toward the village, the rhythmic sound of our footsteps mingled with the distant melody of the river. The promise of respite lay ahead, along with the chance to restock and prepare for whatever lay beyond. I couldn't help but wonder what the village held in store for us, as well as the unknown adventures that awaited on the horizon.
I inhaled deeply, the echoes of my mother's anguished cries still reverberating within me. Not now. I must stay focused—swiftly in and out. As we stepped into the village, the penetrating gazes of the humans followed our every move. Zershoon appeared unaffected by the scrutiny, but I felt the weight of their stares like a tangible pressure. The village presented an orderly arrangement of wooden houses standing in neat rows. The hub of activity for travellers was concentrated in the centre. Laughter and merriment streamed from a nearby tavern as a young woman with a crate of ale swung its doors open, their resounding thud resonating behind her. She moved toward the shop across the street from the tavern.
"I'm going to the armoury. Need to check on my quarterstaff," Zershoon signed to me.
"Sounds good. I'll get dried venison and medical supplies," I responded. We parted ways, and I reached for the swinging door to the shop, my hand hesitating before I pushed through.
"Hello! I'm Wren. Need assistance finding something?" The girl from the tavern greeted me, her lips curving into a friendly smile that showcased her pearly white teeth. A vivid purple daisy adorned her ear, accentuating her tousled wheat-coloured hair. Her eyes mirrored the clear expanse of the sky above. Freckles danced across her face and shoulders like constellations on a canvas. A bow rested upon her back. I averted my gaze from her, focusing on my task at hand, and wrote down the items I required. She read the list, and her slender fingers retrieved a crate of medical supplies from the shelves.
Her curiosity bubbled forth, a torrent of questions breaking free. "Did you take a vow of silence? Is it challenging not to speak? And which monastery are you from? There's one nearby, Baelon's, known for lending aid every year, helping us repair our homes after winter. Have you ever participated in such restoration work?" She paused, returning the crate to its place. "Sorry, I realise I'm talking a lot. Tieflings are a rarity here, and you're quite intriguing to me. You seem kind."
I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, my emotions a jumbled mess. The young woman's inquiries had stirred something within me, a mix of irritation and curiosity. With a sigh, I gathered the medical supplies she'd collected for me, grateful for her assistance yet yearning for a respite from the incessant questioning.
Raising my eyebrows and tapping my foot against the ground, I conveyed my impatience to Wren. She got the message and hastened her efforts to gather the supplies I needed. "Will that be all today, Miss?" she inquired.
I nodded curtly, my focus on the transaction. "That'll be twelve silver," she stated, and the coins clinked onto the counter as I counted out the exact amount. I set aside the required coins and stowed the rest in my pouch. Our hands brushed as I accepted the provisions, her touch a contrast of softness against the roughness of my own calloused palms. With the essentials secured, I exited the shop and headed toward the village's entrance. Much to my chagrin, Wren followed me, undeterred by my lack of engagement and continuing to barrage me with questions.
In the village, I spotted Zershoon, his new quarterstaff in hand, moving through the crowd. Finally, a reprieve from the incessant human inquiries. He signed a question in my direction, to which I handed him the pencil and paper. He jotted down his query and showed it to me. "Who's this?" he asked, gesturing toward Wren.
"Hiya there. I'm Wren, and you are?" Wren greeted Zershoon with an unabated smile.
Zershoon regarded her with a measure of caution, and I handed him the pencil and paper once more. He wrote and showed it to her. "Hi Wren, I'm Zershoon. What are you doing with Asara?"
The exchange continued, Wren explaining her desire to accompany us due to her hunting skills and my apparent experience as a traveller. "It's up to Asara if you can come with us. We're going through the Shuneerean Desert. But I'd like to see your skill first. We'll head back to the camp we have set up," he wrote on the paper, displaying it to her. Her gaze shifted to me, seeking my approval. I exchanged a glance with Zershoon, silently communicating. "It will be helpful to have a third person for the desert," I finally responded, allowing a small, begrudging nod to indicate my agreement.
I couldn't argue with that, so I just nodded. Despite his disdain for humans, Zershoon's practicality prevailed. The three of us left the village, retracing our steps back to camp.
"Why are you going through the desert?" Wren's incessant questions grated on my nerves. "Is your camp near Ailon Forest? Did you go…" I tuned her out, blocking the barrage of words that irked me. The tranquillity I'd enjoyed in the presence of only Zershoon or even just myself seemed like a distant memory.
The river came into view, a welcome sight after the ordeal in the village. I tugged at the scarf, uncoiling it from around my head and revelling in the newfound sensation of air on my skin, liberated from the confines of the suffocating fabric. As I removed my boots, an unpleasant smell wafted up, causing me to gag. The river's water, though warm, provided some relief.
The herons had sought refuge under the shade of the tree, finding respite from the scorching sun. My bare feet stirred the water as I waded in, prompting the fish to dart away. The plains lay deserted, devoid of the deer that had grazed there before, and the rodents had retreated to their burrows, seeking shelter from the oppressive heat.
Returning to our makeshift camp, marked by our presence rather than any physical setup, Zershoon and I settled down while Wren remained standing. "Time to prove yourself," I wrote on the paper and handed it to her.
Wren retrieved her bow and swiftly notched an arrow. Her movements were fluid and skilled as she let the arrow fly toward an unsuspecting rabbit, taking it down in one precise shot.
Suddenly, the trees trembled violently as something barreled through them. In the blink of an eye, a flurry of scales snatched away the lifeless rabbit. Instinctively, I rose to my feet, grasping my daggers as my muscles tensed for an imminent confrontation. Zershoon mirrored my actions.
Wren's jaw fell open in astonishment. "Is that a dragon?" she gasped, her disbelief echoing the incredulity that reverberated within me.