“Don’t go outside without covering yourself, and don't forget your skin lotion, or else you will burn your skin.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Don’t apologise. Just be careful next time.”
“Yes, Mom, I’ll be more careful,” Kiur repeated those words as he lay with his back on the soft but suffocating dunes. He let out a deep sigh upon looking back at a memory of happier times. Like the day he met his mother in his birth town. “Today, the sun is just as hot as it had been back in Kutha.”
It was the same kind of heat. The same kind of warmth on his skin. It felt homely, familiar. Kiur could sink right back into it and let it take him.
“Kiur, hey, stand up.” Cylia pulled on his arm to get him out of the dune. “Are you hurt somewhere?” she asked, patting down his body for injuries.
“I’m not hurt anywhere. I can stand up,” Kiur heaved himself up from the dune he landed in and brushed off the sand that covered his body.
“What happened-” Kiur looked at the carnage of wagons and horses spread through the desert, swallowed by the dunes, crushed or impaled by the rocks. They have sailed down the cliffs. Pieces of the former wagons still stuck out from the walls.
It was a miracle they came out alive since they fell from over 50 meters or more.
“Where’s Xander and the rest?”
“I’m here.” Kiur heard the voice of Xander right next to him but didn’t expect him to see him hanging upside down on the wagon with his foot stuck between debris. “Hey buddy, how’s it hanging? Mind giving me a hand here?”
Trying to feign confidence, Xander barely hid his discomfort as the blood rushed to his head—more so than it usually did.
“Cylia, did you see and willingly ignore this?” Kiur pointed at Xander’s misery at which she simply turned her head away, not feeling any sort of shame. “On one of these days, your karma will bite you from behind. For both of you.”
“Hmph, whatever.” Cylia dismissed the warning with an annoyed groan. “I don’t care about something like Karma-” Right as she turned around, Cylia slipped up on the debris and fell headfirst into the sand. “Ptoo- eww, I’ve got sand everywhere!”
“Pha ha ha!” Xander laughed childishly at her fall. “Serves you right, you little-” mercilessly, Kiur removed the debris and let Xander dive into the sand as well. “Ptoo- eww, my hair! I’ve got sand everywhere!”
“I don’t like this place, I don’t like sand.”
“It’s coarse and rough and irritating.”
“And gets everywhere!” They both complained audibly with cries, yells and curses as they tried to get the sand out of their clothes, hair, face and anywhere else it got.
“You get used to it, I swear.” Kiur couldn’t help but crack a smile as he rested his knuckles on his hips, though his smile quickly dropped. “What about the rest? Are they ok?”
“Pah,” Cylia spit out the last batch of sand in her mouth. “Most of them. Follow me.”
Close to the crash site, Kiur and the rest arrived at a gathering place with the escapees and scouts. Some were resting, treating others’ wounds, or attempting to fix the wagons.
“Stupid thing, work already!” Jeorg, the dwarven scout, hit the axle of a wagon only to make it collapse for good. “Stupid Reiszer wagons! Useless things that can’t handle a little bit of sand!”
“Or a crash from a cliff site,” commented Gallina, leaning on the dwarf’s head with her elbow.
“Same difference, don’t correct me!” He brushed off her elbow. “One thing’s for sure; if they were dwarven-made, then they wouldn’t break!”
“Seems like the scouts are in a chipper mood,” commented Xander. “They are too carefree. The least they could do is take the situation more seriously. We are still too close to the Reiszer territories.”
“They aren’t carefree,” corrected Kiur with a sober tone. “It’s basic behaviour when dealing with worry and refugees. Our scouts are trained to maintain a level-headed attitude while dealing with uncertainty. They might not show it, but they worry the most since they feel responsible for everyone’s life here.”
“Wow,” Xander rolled his eyes, “thanks for the history lesson, professor. Though, I didn’t need to know that. Who even taught you this useless nonsense?”
“Our mother,” responded a gruff voice, covered in the silence of the desert breeze. A man with paw-like hands, feet of a fox and hair the colour of wheat. His sharp eyes glowered down at Xander and only softened at the sight of his brother. “I’m glad to see you are alright, Kiur.”
Kiur locked eyes with his older brother. He hadn’t seen him for almost two months since he went on a scout operation and the attack on Nippur.
Frankly, deep in his heart, Kiur expected to never see his brother again. So Kiur wondered why he couldn’t master any emotions when seeing Archil again after all he had been through.
“Goodness and gratuitous,” exclaimed Xander, stumbling backwards and bumping into Cylia. “Don’t scare us- a therianthrope?” sceptical of who he was seeing, Xander warily inspected both Kiur and Archil. “You two are brothers? Are you two therianthropes?”
Archil laughed in response, showing his prominent canines. “We’re not related by blood. Our mother adopted each of us when we were children.” Archil placed his hand down on his little brother’s left shoulder. Kiur suddenly experienced a terrifying jolt, travelling through his body and stabbing his heart.
He instantly brushed off the hand of Archil. Both brothers stared at each other, sharing a very uncomfortable and unexpected moment of unease—only to be interrupted by Cylia.
“Stop deliberately bumping into me, you blue-haired freak!” Cylia drove her elbow into Xander’s sternum. He collapsed on the spot. No one could tell if Cylia was fragile or not with her ragged breathing after knocking down Xander.
It was clear that despite her malnourished body, she could be pretty feisty—Xander was just plain physically weak.
“Good seeing you, girl. You did well in delivering the notes and finding my brother.” There was a tone of admiration and appreciation coming from Archil, which made Cylia grow red from being praised.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“No, I am thankful for the chance you gave me. Kiur’s translation skills were useful in finding and convincing others of this operation.” Cylia suddenly bowed formally before him and chose her words carefully before speaking—a stark contrast to how she acted with Xander.
“You did great. I’m the one who should be thankful. Go get some rest. Ask Jeorg to share his date palms with you. Don’t believe him when he says he doesn’t have any.” Archil gave her a wink before she scurried along, but not without stepping on Xander for good measure.
“You were the one whom she discovered the plans of?” Kiur asked.
Archil scratched his neck. “She doesn’t look like it, but she’s sharp. She noticed me when I was scouting out the camp, looking for familiar faces.” Archil gave Kiur a brief glance. He shuddered a breath from Kiur’s sudden animosity towards him. “Let us talk somewhere quiet, brother.”
—☼—
Archil expected to be greeted with a hug, cheers or tears of joy—anything was more welcome than the uncertainty he felt after saving his younger brother.
It was as if Kiur didn’t recognise Archil anymore—just like last time when Kiur’s personality suddenly changed. Archil tried to bridge that awkward gap ever since, but he didn’t know anymore what to do. He felt like they reverted back to strangers.
He needed to reach out to his younger brother. “Ki-“
“That sandstorm,” Kiur broke the silence, “it was you, wasn’t it?”
A sigh of relief came out of Archil’s parched lips when Kiur spoke first. “Yeah, it was. Took some time and effort to concentrate all the squalls, but the desert knows how to create one. You know our saying, ‘The desert may seem devoid of life, but it never died.’”
“I wonder, I have yet to see its full beauty you and Mother always eulogised about.” Kiur unconsciously scratched the back of his left shoulder, which he turned to his brother. “Do you know why we got blown off? I saw the air disturb before it happened.”
“A foe,” Archil’s eyes became focused, more animalistic and driven with instinct. It made Kiur’s hair crawl in tension even without seeing it. “I don’t know who they were, but from the rumours and the encounter I gathered, it wasn’t someone I would like to meet again. We don’t have the manpower to deal with this. We have to reach the centre of the desert before they get us.”
“The Achernar,” answered Kiur, knowing full well where their destination was headed.
“Until we can view the amethyst light field of the Achernar, we can't be sure that we got away safely.” Archil cracked his neck, releasing the tension that had built up. “Speaking of magic, Kiur,” Archil’s voice turned serious, waiting for Kiur to turn around—which he didn’t. “You’ve lost control again.”
“...so, I did use magic.” Kiur scratched his left shoulder bloody from the unnerving itching he felt. He avoided looking his brother in the eyes. “I wasn’t sure anymore, but I guess that answers it.”
“You were not sure?” Archil closed the distance to his brother to place a hand on his shoulder, making Kiur flinch from the touch, though his brother didn’t retreat. “Kiur, listen to me. You must be more careful with your emotions, your magic. Don’t forget what the last few times happened when you-” Archil retracted his hand and pinched his nose in thought. “No, this isn’t fair to you. You have a right to use your magic and regain control over it, but don’t let your emotions drive you like that. You could have seriously injured those around you… or yourself.”
“Don’t tell me that… I KNOW!” Kiur yelled back at his brother. The surrounding air vibrated. Archil gave him a moment to collect himself. “It gets harder and harder for me to control myself. Especially after what happened in Nippur and what that Reiszer did. I feel… unstable.”
Archil sat down on a rock and gestured for Kiur to do the same.
“There were those two children, Ninda and Hazir. I promised their parents to keep them safe, but I couldn’t do anything and I still can’t control my magic to help them! I saw Ninda and- and, I don’t know, I yelled out in hopes of making a difference. Then, I saw that Reiszer, Hessian. He had the brooch mother gave me. I didn’t notice it was gone until I saw it on him… then I lost it.”
“Mother’s brooch? You don’t mean-” Archil stood up, approaching Kiur and dusting off the blue shawl he had wrapped around his torso. It was dirty and in bad shape, but it was unmistakably the same shawl their mother always kept hidden in the basement. Archil knew it all too well when he saw her cry into it. “She gave you the brooch and shawl. Our mother must have been worried about you-”
“Are you not listening? I lost that brooch she gave me, and now that bast-… that man has it!” cursed Kiur, taking aback Archil. His red eyes glinted like embers filled with anger and frustration.
This was not the calm and collected brother Archil knew.
He would not stand hearing this anymore. “You’re tired. Go back to the camp,” said Archil flatly with a hand on Kiur’s shoulder again, tightening his grip. “We will soon depart for the Achernar. Reaching Navarre will be a long way. Get some rest.” With a stern tone, Archil walked past Kiur, disappearing into the desert with a faint breeze around him.
Seething, Kiur bit his lip and held his head. It was throbbing painfully, and he let out a pained yell at a nearby dune.
The sand dispersed from the blow, leaving behind charred grains of sand and magical residue. “What’s wrong with me? I don’t know what is going on. I’ve enough,” wailed Kiur, falling to his knees. “Why can’t this all just stop?”
Through the tireless work of the scouts, they eventually repaired some of the salvageable wagons. Morale was low but maintained by the scouts, chatting buoyantly.
“This takes me back to the peregrination when I was a teen.”
“Me too, a beautiful time- wait, you were a child once!?”
“Yeah, when you were still wearing diapers inside your egg!”
The scouts made fun of one another, and the rest began to laugh and talk amongst each other. They exchanged tales about the peregrination each teen had to undergo in Navarre and Idaris, so it was a common topic for everyone to reminiscence.
“It has been, what, 20 years? My wife and I met when our groups bumped into each other.”
“Oh, it was beautiful. The white mountains on the northeastern coast, the beautiful red sea and the ashen lands of the south. Wish I could be a teen again.”
“Me too! I love the Achernar and the ancient ruins. I’ll never forget the sight.”
“What- what are they talking about?” huffed Xander, curious but tired from walking for so long.
Kiur didn’t bat an eye at the question and shrugged. “Beats me.”
“Come on, we’ll be stuck walking for what, a few hours? Just answer it so it can distract me from walking in this hellish place.”
Xander whined—clearly having skipped all his mandatory geography classes—but seeing how sincere he was to know it, Kiur sighed.
He also noticed how Cylia was listening to the conversations, clearly interested as well. Neither could really converse with the group because of the language barrier.
That was the difference between people from the West and East, not just culture and language. Stamina and enduring harsh environments were also a big part of what described Kiur’s people. Unlike Kiur and the rest, Xander and Cylia were barely holding up.
“The Peregrination,” Kiur started, “is a cultural custom around here. Every teenager between the ages of 14 and 18 looks forward to it.” Kiur couldn’t hide his sombre tone. “Groups from Navarre and Idaris meet up at the border city of Nineveh and head westwards
“Over the Idarien mountains to the Navarrien desert, next to the Achernar Obelisk at the centre until we would meet up all again at the Ashen Fields of Kur on the southern edges.
“Then we hop on ships to go from one island archipelago of the Romantik Sea to the next before we return to our starting location.
“Every child looks forward to uncovering new and lost routes and eventually seeing rare events or mystical sites. For instance, the super bloom event, when the desert becomes a massive flower field for one day. Finding the mysterious underground cities of old, the forgotten libraries, the ruins of a civilization no one knows about, the wide chasms and canyons to the borders of Kur and many more. There’s not a single person who wasn’t looking forward to it as a child.”
“Woah, I’d love to see that.” Cylia showed genuine emotions of yearning and wistfulness towards Kiur’s imperfect summary. “This sounds like an amazing experience. You must have seen a lot.”
“Agreed. Even I would have liked to see this, and I usually hate to leave the tower,” commented Xander, agreeing with Cylia enthusiastically for the first time ever.
“I wonder… I never finished it.” Kiur’s answer left a sour taste in both Xander and Cylia when they heard how indifferent he was about it. Everyone else was over the moon just remembering about it. Then there was Kiur, who acted like it didn’t affect him.
Whatever the reason was, Kiur wouldn’t elaborate on it—not after what he just had stumbled upon when his gaze deviated away from the group for but a moment.
Just 200 hundred meters away, Kiur spotted a field of half a dozen abandoned caged wagons—with their passengers still inside.