“I can’t believe we found this place through Cylia’s sheer clumsiness!” Xander laughed at Cylia and munched on one of the date palms. He choked when Kiur hit him against his head.

“Stop making fun of her like that. We wouldn’t have found this place without her.”

It was a desperate miracle. This oasis existed 10 metres below ground with clear water and palm trees. Food, water and a safe shelter from the elements with a well-protected and hidden exit. Were it not for Cylia accidentally opening up the ceiling, they would have missed the entrance to this place. It was a small refuge for them that revealed itself at the right time.

“Good for us, truly,” Cylia commented angrily, twisting her tangled and wet hair to dry it unsuccessfully. She gave in frustration, her hair hung all over her face. “Never did I wish more desperately to take a bath than at this moment.”

Upon her words, they all had to realise how filthy they were. Held hostage for over a month with no spare clothes, endless fights and a daring runaway in the scorching environment did a number on their appearance. Dirt, sand, grime and blood covered their dishevelled hair, face and clothes riddled with tears and holes.

“We can use the pond to clean ourselves,” thought Kiur, “but we would need to rotate so everyone can get clean.”

“Why? Cylia can wait outside while you and I get clean,” suggested Xander.

“Absolutely not!” They both shot down Xander’s idea immediately.

“What’s with you two going against me all day!?”

It was a matter of privacy, both of them valued. They tried to discuss who would go first, but none of them was honestly eager to let up on the opportunity to bathe first.

"I go first," Xander said, starting the argument. “I’m the oldest, did the most, and my hair is a mess! I’ve been like this for a month!”

“Boo hoo,” Cylia cried fake tears. “I’ve been like this for over a year!”

Kiur and Xander shuffled away from her. Never have they been more aware of her squalor as clearly as they were now. It was as if even the smell had intensified, which they hadn’t noticed before.

“I suppose she can go first,” Xander held his nose, withdrawing from his position to go first.

“Mhm,” Kiur was breathing from his mouth, failing to appear unfazed. “Though I have another suggestion.”

Tracing his fingers on the firm ground, Kiur let his mana shoot from his core, letting it travel through his veins and leave the fingers to take effect. Shaping and shifting the earth, Kiur remembered how his magic worked again. It was difficult, but he only needed to give the most basic of instructions for this and with that, he raised three intersecting walls in the oasis.

“This way, we won’t have to worry about privacy or waiting for our turn.”

A shiver of pain coursed through Kiur’s body and travelled up to his very core when he eased himself into the comfortable, cool waters of the oasis. Exhaustion had accumulated so much over the weeks that it made his chest throb.

“Ow, ow,” Kiur hunched over, holding his left side. His heart felt like it was about to explode with the floods of emotions breaching his brain.

“Are you alright?” Cylia peered over from her side of the wall to check on Kiur.

“Hey, go back. I put up the walls for a reason!” Kiur’s face grew red, quickly covering up his privates and chest from Cylia's sudden peeking.

Feeling left out, Xander joined in the peeking. “What kind of party are you celebrating here?” His eyes wandered first to Cylia, who was only visible from the head down to her collarbone. “Yikes, you’re scrawny.”

“Ergh,” she groaned in response and rolled her eyes. “At least my skin doesn’t look like that of a tomato.”

“My skin is what!?-”

“Both of you, out!” Kiur shouted red-faced and enclosed his space with another walled section. “Keep to yourself, or I’ll throw both of you out!”

“Yes, we’re sorry,” they responded and silently went back to cleaning themselves.

Kiur winced when he tried to clean his skin. It was warm and irritating. Kiur scrubbed his skin carefully. The silence perturbed him and made his thoughts wander back to his brother. He didn’t know what had become of Archil, and he didn’t want to get a firm answer to it. The possibilities invaded him.

“It will be alright, it will be alright,” he mumbled, pushing back the resurfacing dark thought. He couldn’t deal with the reality of Archil sacrificing himself for his brother’s safety.

“I need to be stronger—for him,” Kiur cried, scratching the scar behind his left shoulder. The itch was killing him and endlessly reminded him of his mistakes. “I’m a disappointment to everyone.”

“This is as dry as I can get them.” Xander placed Kiur’s clothes through the small opening Kiur created to receive them. He was still slightly agitated by their previous peeping attempts. “Watch out, they are cold-”

“I NOTICED!” yowled Kiur as he put on his frigid robes.

“Sorry, water magic tends to be, well, cold,” explained Xander before his thoughts pondered about something. “Maybe I should experiment with the temperatures a bit more. Yes… that would be nice.”

Xander’s footsteps grew distant, leaving for the other side of the oasis to do whatever he planned to do late at night.

“What a diligent guy when he focuses his attention on magic and not people,” muttered Kiur and dried his hair by slightly increasing the temperature in his hands and combing them with his chipped nails and fingers. It was still difficult, but he could finally get a hand in controlling fire magic, or at least for a while.

He clenched and unclenched his warm hand. He still couldn’t believe he was now a fire mage, too. Just a few years ago, he was but an earth mage living a stable life. Yet, the fire didn’t feel wrong. It strangely brought him comfort. “So warm.”

Cylia's voice rang out from the other side of the wall. “Kiur, can you help me a bit?”

“One moment,” he said and exited his bathing section. “What is it-” When Kiur stepped before Cylia, Kiur’s jaw dropped. He was at a loss for words. “What happened to your hair!?”

Knots and tangles everywhere. Cylia’s long raven-black hair looked like literal ravens decided to live in there now. It was the messiest thing Kiur had ever witnessed.

“I don’t know what happened,” Cylia despaired, her hand stuck in her hair. She felt embarrassed and helpless about the situation. “Can you make something like scissors, please? I really don’t want to ask Xander-”

“No, we’ll fix this!” Kiur shaped a pair of chairs and ushered Cylia to sit down. “Just because you have long hair doesn’t mean you can neglect it. Cutting it is not an option. I won’t allow it.”

Kiur firmly gripped Cylia’s shoulder from behind so she wouldn’t run away. “Sit still, don’t fight it.”

Cylia gulped. “I regret this already.”

—❂—

She hissed when the comb tried to untangle the first knot of her hair. She endured the process, with Kiur focusing all his energy on fixing the mess—not realising it was part of her plan.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Do you want to talk about your brother?” she asked the sour question.

“Not really,” he replied immediately, untangling another knot, to her dismay.

“I’ll talk then.” Kiur nodded as he had the comb in his mouth and fiddled with her hair. There were more than he foresaw. “I once had a mother, like anyone else, obviously. Wait, let me gather my thoughts.” Cylia took a moment and tilted her head at what to say next.

“I forgot what my father looked like since it was only me and my mother for the past 12 years. The Reiszer forced us into slavery. My mother did her best to make life manageable.”

Kiur bit his tongue. He didn’t like where the story was going. “Why’s she telling me this suddenly?”

“I have no idea what odd jobs she did, but I had a fair idea—I’m not as stupid as Xander believes. It was sometimes very obvious.” Cylia dragged on by explaining more weird details and things that regarded her and her mother. Eventually, she realised she had got carried away in her thoughts. “A few years ago, we had tried to escape to the south where Hellas is.”

“The same country Xander’s from?”

“Unfortunately,” replied Cylia with a frown, and they both glanced over to Xander, who was playing with water like a child. “We met this nice merchant who had a ship and secretly worked as a pirate.”

Kiur raised a brow. “A pirate?”

“Yes, very shady. He guarded a jar of dirt as if it were a treasure chest, but I digress. My mother and I boarded the ship and hid with many other slaves on the lower decks. Everything went fine the first week. We had our rations, and my mother maintained morale and provided solace during the voyage. She was incredible; we were happier than ever.

“No arduous tasks or abuse. I remember how I felt my bruises heal for the first time in months!” exclaimed Cylia with such passion that Kiur felt awful about the tale, which was far from over.

“Sadly, we caught bad winds and accidentally travelled to the western borders of the Reiszer Nations. A very fatal mistake, since that’s where the Elites live, the Overlords.”

“Elites?”

“Yes, Elites. They’re the most outstanding of the Reiszer. Remember that woman with the fancy-sounding name and animal mask? She’s one of them. You can discern them by their names, appearance, accent, and strength.” Cylia took a ragged breath. “When they found us, they dragged us all out on deck. I remember the chill of the winds and rain pattering against my skin, knowing they would kill us. A fight then broke out with the pirates and slaves against the Reiszer Elites and their terrifying soldiers—worse than the bunch we had to deal with.”

“How did it end?” Kiur swallowed, fearing the answer.

“Horribly,” answered Cylia with a crazed glint in her eyes and a wary smile to hide something. “For them, of course, because my mother fought them. She wasn’t a warrior slave or soldier, but she was strong. I saw her grabbing the surface of a broken table like a shield and a sabre from a pirate to fight them. Swinging left and right, she was like a shield maiden from our ancient history—unrestrained and full of valour.

“She lost against a masked Elite, cutting a laceration across her face and chest. This one wore the motif of a hare with four eyes. She survived, but we got separated ever since. I haven’t seen her for the past 5-6 years. That Elite approached me and said: ‘It’d be a shame to let you both die’, a real creep. I had nightmares for a year.”

Dipping his head, Kiur laid down his tools and paused. “Do you think she’s still alive?”

“Maybe,” Cylia replied without a hint of hesitation and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I try not to dwell on it too much.”

“Why? Shouldn’t you worry if she was still alive?”

“I do,” Cylia said, “but I accepted I might never see her again. I know what you’re experiencing. Loss can sometimes make you shut off your feelings and force you to focus ahead without regard to anything. Been there, done that.”

Kur gritted his teeth and shook his head in defiance. “I’m alright. There’s nothing for you to be worried about.”

Cylia tilted her head back, facing Kiur to stare into his red eyes. “You know, those who say they’re alright,” she placed a hand on his arm, “lie about themselves the most. After all, none of us is alright.”

Kiur averted his eyes from Cylia’s prying gaze and withdrew his arm. The way her silvern eyes swirled with no glint of light made him shudder. It reminded Kiur of his encounter with Hessian. It was uncanny.

“I have another question,” Cylia began, eyes seeming to return to normal as if it was just a fabrication of Kiur’s imagination. “Do you mind telling me about that scar on your shoulder-”

Kiur turned Cylia’s head back so abruptly she feared he would snap her neck. His warm hands held on tightly to her base. She could feel them tremble.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kiur answered flatly. “Some things are better left unsaid. Loss is a heavy topic,” Kiur sighed heavily. “But thanks for trying to cheer me up. I appreciate it.”

“If you need someone to talk to, just say so,” laughed Cylia honestly, embarrassed at how much she shared about herself. “I’m open for conversations, and I am still curious about that scar-”

“I won’t talk about it.”

“Why? Scars are nothing to be ashamed of. My mother said it’s the sign of a warrior. I can show you mine.”

“I-” Kiur’s face tinged with a hint of purple. “Please, don’t push it. Besides, let’s see how your hair looks.”

There was only so much Kiur could do, but he felt content with his work. Standing up, Cylia walked up to the pond, inspecting her hair in the reflection and turning from side to side with bewildered eyes. Her bangs were neatly cut, there was a little parting on the left side of her forehead, and Kiur had tied her long hair into a semi–messy but held together by two stone hair sticks.

There was room for improvement, but Cylia felt happier than ever about how it turned out. “I feel like the pond is lying to me,” said Cylia, unable to pry herself away.

“Is it bad?” Kiur worried. “I didn’t cut hair before, but I know myself around tying up hair from doing my mother’s and brother’s hair-”

“It’s incredible!” Cylia shot up, whirling around slightly to admire her hair. Having not cared for her hair for a long time, no one would believe the person before them was actually Cylia—since she couldn’t believe it either.

Her hair now framed her tanned face, giving a lot more attention to her silver eyes. He liked seeing Cylia bob her little bun. Kiur remembered how much he liked working with someone’s hair—although it was now sprinkled with sad memories.

“I was so close to cutting it away entirely,” Cylia played a bit with the disentangled hair, enjoying her freshly cut hair to the fullest. “My mother told me even men were encouraged to let it grow out and only cut it at a turning point in our lives.”

“Do you still want to cut it?”

“I am not so sure now. I thought it was fitting to cut it because I could finally do what many slaves weren’t—escaping. But now,” Cylia dusted her rags and beamed at her reflection, turning to Kiur. “I’m glad I didn’t cut it, thank you, Kiur.”

Seeing how the light of the stars travelled through the hole in the ceiling and shone upon Cylia, Kiur couldn’t help but view her in a different light now. He couldn’t see it before, but Cylia held a fierce and indomitable beauty inside her that could never be trampled on. They could cover her in grime, dress her in rags, or cut her skin, but she would never relent.

Kiur couldn’t hide the blush he held for her and the compliment. “It wasn’t much. I’m glad you like it. I bet even someone like Xander will compliment you.”

“Ergh,” Cylia made a face, making Kiur laugh in response. “You just had to ruin the moment, didn’t you? He wouldn’t know what beauty is, even if it hit him in the face.”

“That’s mean, but probably not untrue-”

“Guys, come here and see what I did!” Xander called, and Kiur thought how good the opportunity would be to prove to Cylia that even Xander needed to admit how great she looked. However, having her hide behind him while walking made him feel slightly flustered—but mischievous.

“Watch this. I can’t believe I didn’t try it sooner.” Xander had in both his hands one sphere of water floating. Each of them emitted white smoke. “It takes some effort, but I can efficiently manipulate the temperature of water without making it freeze or evaporate. I am not very sensitive to the cold, so it never came to me to change the water’s temperature. I could even experiment with the velocity and-”

“We got it, Xander,” Kiur tried to call off the over-enthusiastic waterfall of Xander’s elucidation in magic theory. It could go on an entire night, and that’s not something Kiur nor Cylia wanted. “Cylia, show him now.”

“Greetings, moron,” Cylia popped out from behind Kiur, giving Xander a nasty look and a wave of her hand.

As if frozen in time, Xander stood there, doing nothing but looking bewildered at Cylia in shock. “Holy Axolotl!” Xander yelled and fell backwards into the pond of the oasis.

“See? I told you.” Cylia rolled her eyes. “I’ll see what we can use to sleep on.”

“Do that.” Kiur waved after Cylia and turned to Xander, who was already up, dried and staring after Cylia with a weird buzzing sound. “Did you have to be like that? I tried to show Cylia that even you would compliment her. You could have at least said something nice.”

“Wait, that was Cylia?”

“Ok, now you are being obnoxious-”

“I can’t believe how beautiful she looked like.”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

Kiur and Xander shared a moment of silence and bewilderment.

“I think I’ll apologise to her for my past behaviour,” said Xander, going after Cylia and leaving Kiur even more confused than he was before.

Kiur sighed in defeat. “I’m too tired to deal with this.”