Mareth
Mareth watched Avira snap the reins. The water bird stiffened, then bolted. The wolf girl yelped and immediately fell off, landing on her rear with a grunt. The scholar held in a snicker as she scrambled to chase the bird, leaping on and securing herself.
“You alright?” Mareth called, bringing his waterbird to a brisk trot. Considering the speed of these animals, crossing even the massive desert wouldn't take long. They had a lot of stamina too, which was good considering the trek to their first outpost would take two days at least.
“Fine.” Avira shot him a nasty glare after she got back on her mount, clearly embarrassed but too proud to let it show. She was more feisty than most hybrids he knew. A lot of spunk, to say the least. That served Mareth well. He wasn't very inclined to violence, and these deserts were full of it. Also, loathe as he was to admit, he didn't know much about the land.
Mareth's primary form of learning was through books, and while useful, they generally weren't up to date thanks to how long it took to publish anything. If you blindly believed everything you read, you'd be dead in a day. It was part of the reason he'd been exploring the world these past years. Getting out into the world, experiencing it for himself was its own reward too. A little bit of wandering could do most of his colleagues well. Stuffy, full of prejudices, and quite stuck up. Every interaction between them turned into a bragging contest, or scoffing at any mage who didn't lock themselves up in a study all day.
They were heading into the actual desert now. No dunes yet, but the ground was dried and cracked from its moisture slowly being drained away. There were still clouds in the sky but they would vanish soon enough. They wouldn't see any lamias this close to the border, either.
“Been in the desert often?” Mareth looked to Avira, who was staring ahead.
“A few times. With my dad usually. Not much out here for a hybrid though.”
“Yeah, I'd guess as much. What about the lamias? How do they react to lone hybrids?”
“They're barely better to the hybrids than the humans.”
“And males? Same as human males?”
She nodded. “Abduction, mating, then they either crush them to death or release them.”
“They release you if you're a hybrid?”
“Sometimes. Usually they just die in the desert or get enslaved.”
“I see... and how do you know this?”
“Oh, my dad was friends with the lamias. I played with them as a kid sometimes.”
“Interesting...” he muttered.
“Now, if that's all, I'd appreciate some quiet.”
“Uh, right.” Mareth grew silent. He didn't want to annoy her when they just began traveling together. Annoying her was for the halfway point.
They passed through one last shantytown, a small outpost of humans and hybrids who lived out near the Axiam-Drima border, doing all sorts of nefarious things probably. Mareth noticed a lot of hybrids with hoofed feet here, and only now realized how few he'd seen in the town. Hybrids that had more animal traits past just the tail and ears were a lot rarer, though a few species like harpies, lamias and these hoofed ones were born with them. He felt their eyes drilling him in the back of the head as he passed. Considering how Avira had stiffened, she must have felt it too. They continued on in silence, reaching the end of the town and thus the border.
Avira raised her hand and stuck her middle finger out, pointing backward for all to see before spurring her mount on. Mareth spurred his as well, the undead companion following suit. “What was that about?” he called to her.
“Bunch of damned ungulates...”
“Pardon?”
“Of course you wouldn't know...” Avira muttered, “that's what we call hoofed hybrids.”
“Are they their own class or something? Looked like a lot of different types back there; deer, centaur, I think I saw a rhino man too.”
“Pretty much all of them save the satyrs— the goat people— are mongrels.”
They were quiet for some time. Then, surprisingly, the first person to speak was Avira.
“Where are you headed, anyways? Specifically. There has to be a reason you're crossing the desert instead of just taking a boat.”
“Well, my dear, I'm on a quest for knowledge,” he spoke, “to travel the world and experience it firsthand, that's my goal.”
“Yeah? Where you been so far?” She looked over, interested.
“All three continents. The URB, L'Ries, a few of the islands, and all across this continent as well. Axiam was one of my last stops. I was considering trying to get into the Wilds, but I imagine I would have promptly died.”
“You'd be right about that. We don't let just anybody in.”
“Well, seeing as how you seem to be a sentry, you think you could—”
“Nope. No humans allowed. I doubt I'd let you in even if I was allowed to.”
“Right... and where are you headed?”
“Vakia.”
“Oh? Interesting.”
“I know they're supposed to be warlords, but I need to speak to the King. You heard much about him?”
“Not many good things. Most people who don't live in the nation seem to think he's a warlord, like his father. They say he consorts with daemons, that he's slaughtered hundreds, things like that.”
“Hm,” she said, “and what do the citizens think?”
“That he's a kind king handed a bad hand when he inherited the kingdom.”
“Let's hope it's the latter, if I'm going to see him...”
“Why do you need to see him, anyways?”
“Something important. Can't say.”
“Don't trust me?”
“To put it simply, yes.”
They were both quiet, listening to the sounds of the desert now. A whistling of wind traveling through the barren landscape, the rare call of an animal trying to live in the unforgiving land, and the light thumps of the waterbird's feet trampling the ground at a quick and steady pace came to them. The cracked and dried out earth began to buckle and gave way to sand dunes dyed a purple shade as the remnants of clouds overhead became little more than vapor trails. The sun was really starting to beat down now. Mareth was thankful for his hood, without it he'd probably be as red as a ruby in no time. Although he'd been exploring for the past few years, he still had a very fair complexion and wasn't all that fit. Of course, his ability as a mage made physical fitness unnecessary.
The hot and dry wind blew in his face, glasses somewhat protecting his eyes. They reached the peak of one dune, allowing them to view the sea of purple sand stretching out to the horizon. This desert was massive, taking up near a third of the continent. The nation of Drima had created it just a few generations ago.
“What do you think of Drima?” Mareth asked the wolf girl, wondering about her opinion. “You look like you have some driman in you.”
“That'd be my mother. She was one. My dad never talks about her, so I don't know if she was a hybrid or a human, but I get my looks from her. As for the Drimans... I really couldn't care less. They're yet another example of elementals who care only for themselves and their position. If they were to vanish, we'd be better off. I'm referring to the citizens of the nation and not the ethnicity, of course.”
“Mm. Well, That sentiment is common among foreigners. I can't necessarily disagree, myself. To think of the nations that fell apart... it's a real shame.” He eyed the remains of a stone wall on their right, a remnant of a civilization overtaken by the desert. “Still though, there is a sizable portion of the country that opposes the draining and isolation.”
“Then they should rise up and overthrow the government. If a tribe has an issue with the leader, then they boot them out.”
“That's all well and good for a tribe, but a country?”
“Fuck the whole thing then. Topple it. I don't think Drima consolidating power and water like it is will lead to anything but disaster, especially when the surrounding nations finally get off their asses and decide to put a stop to it.”
Mareth left her alone. She was clearly getting agitated, so it was no use bugging her. He looked forward to their undead partner and noticed a shifting in the sand in front of him. Avira seemed to notice it too, a look of realization appearing on her face. “Aw fuck,” she said, before the sand exploded.
A bizarre looking monster emerged, a large mouth that looked like a serpent cut down the middle, lined with jagged teeth on both sides. its maw wrapped around the deer man and the waterbird, fangs digging into his undead flesh. The waterbird barely had a moment to give a strange call of shock before the creature's small but muscular arms dug back into the dune, its fat body vanishing under the sand along with the deer man and his waterbird.
Avira and Mareth's mounts were startled and bolted in opposite directions. Mareth felt it jolt, gripping the reins as tightly as he could to avoid falling off. “Oh dear!” Mareth yelled out, looking to make sure Avira didn't have her eyes pointed in his direction before he called out, “Witness!”
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His companion appeared in front of the charging waterbird and held out his arm. Grabbing it by the neck and pulling, he brought the bird to the ground and sent Mareth flying several paces ahead. Mareth tumbled a moment before coming to rest on his rear, glancing back to the now calmed waterbird standing up.
Avira trotted up on her own, having calmed it easily enough. “Never seen a waterbird trip like that before. You okay?”
“Uh.. yes. Yeah.” Mareth took a breath and stood, dusting himself off. “That was something. I've never seen that creature before.”
“Dunetrappers. They typically go after waterbirds and lamias, as well as other smaller critters. I didn't expect us to encounter one this early into the desert though. By the Spirits, that was quite a sight.”
“I'll say...” he muttered, cataloging the information in his brain for later. “Not every day you see a waterbird and a corpse being sucked into a sand dune.”
She nodded. “Well, hop back on, let's continue. I'll be extra careful about encountering any more, don't worry.”
“Very well.” Mareth complied, walking over to his mount and making sure it was calmed before hopping on with effort.
#
Avira
The next hours were uneventful. Avira was careful to avoid any more incidents. They'd failed to see any lamias yet, but Avira was getting more alert. The sun was coloring the sky a bright orange as it prepared to give way to the night. Time to find shelter.
A chill rose in the air, cold retaking the land. Avira noticed a ruined house in the distance, so they elected to rest there for the night.
“I'll go refill the water,” Avira spoke, taking Mareth's canteen.
“Can you find some? I imagine it's sparse, with the draining.”
She nodded. “You just need to know where to look is all. There are some places magic can't touch, as I'm sure you know.”
He gave a grunt and watched Avira walk off while sniffing the air and scanning the horizon.
The water was easy enough to find, and Avira made sure to stay within eye shot of their shelter while looking. A pool had formed around a cactus. That cactus had a large crystal sticking out of it. A flux crystal. It was glowing blue, as even now it was absorbing the magical energy that was attempting to drain the water away. After making sure the water wasn't contaminated, Avira scooped some into their water skins.
The hybrid entered the ruined shack to see Mareth reading next to a small orb. It was giving off light and heat, but no smoke. She scoffed and sat on the other side from him, laying back in the sand. The thin walls barely did anything to stop the wind and dirt from reaching them, but anything was better than nothing.
Avira waited for Mareth to notice her, but he seemed thoroughly invested in what he was reading. She eventually had to shake him on the shoulder to get his attention.
“Got anything good?” She glanced at the pile of books next to him.
“Uh... pardon?”
“Any good books. Y'know, to read?”
“Oh!” He straightened up. “I wasn't aware that you were interested.”
He probably didn't think she was literate. “Right, well what do you have?”
“Feel free to have a look. I have all kinds. Fiction, nonfiction, scientific journals...”
“Just fiction is fine,” she spoke, taking a handful of books and flipping through them quickly.
“I recommend this one.” He pointed to a book in her hand, titled 'Steel Dogs'. “Comedy, action, romance. It's about a group of mercenaries.”
“Sounds fine enough. I enjoy some action and adventure...” she muttered, dropping the other books and going back to her spot to curl up and read.
#
Mareth
Mareth didn't sleep much. He suffered from insomnia as a child, and his insatiable appetite for learning didn't help. But it was even worse these past few years. Delving into the occult didn't exactly do wonders for your mental state, and his sensitivity to spirits was starting to drive him up a wall. Thankfully he was a reader. He was able to immerse himself into the words on a page, bringing him into a trance-like state until something disrupted him or he finished the book.
He closed his book and looked up to see Avira sleeping, curled up with her book open on the ground. It was half buried in the sand. He looked outside through one of the many cracks in the building only to be met with a face. Pale, sullen, and... slightly transparent. It was just a spirit, but so close?
“Who are you?” it asked. Avira didn't stir.
Mareth didn't bother with a response. A simple wave of his amulet and it was gone. That was a very self aware one, which was at least interesting. He wondered how many other spirits wandered this dry desert.
Avira was a morning person, so they were back on the trail again as soon as the sun peered over the horizon.
“You hear that?” spoke Avira after a few hours of silence. Try as he might, Mareth couldn't hear anything but the occasional whisper that escaped from his amulet.
“Unfortunately not,” Mareth spoke, “human ears, remember?”
“Mm. I think there's a fight. Let's take a look.” She snapped the reins and was off before Mareth could give any protest, luckily not falling this time.
All they needed to do was reach the peak of the next sand dune and they had front row seats to it. Two dead waterbirds laid on the ground near two men and an angry lamia. Both men were cloaked, though one was noticeably bulkier. The larger one seemed to have a mace and shield, and was standing back while the smaller man stood in front, dodging strikes and looking for an opening. The lamia was wielding a shield and spear, the weapon of choice for them.
Mareth looked over to Avira to see a grin on her face. “Avira?” He asked.
She looked over for a moment, but her eyes returned to the fight. “The small one's fast and agile. It's impressive, but I expect other factors are at play. Probably a wind elemental. Not sure what the other one is doing, but I doubt they can take out a lamia. With a shield and spear they're scary.”
“Yeah?” Mareth scratched his chin. “I thought lamias didn't attack groups?”
“Not usually, but with how it's not trying to capture them and instead going for the kill, it's clearly angry.”
“Well, what do you think we should do?”
“Should? Probably clear out of here before we encounter anymore, or it finishes them off and sees us. What we will do though...” She chuckled to herself. “We should leave the birds up here. You come down with me, I could use you.”
“Uh... alright. You know I'm not a fighter, right?”
“I know. But I think you're capable in other ways, eh?”
“Quite...”
Mareth stepped down the dune carefully, trying not to trip and injure himself. Avira was halfway down, sliding down like the sand was snow. He considered following suit, but he'd probably fall.
As a result, she was down first, running up to the sidelines. “Who are you two?” she yelled, getting their attention, and that of the lamia.
“Haw— Hank!” the smaller one yelled, ducking under a stab. He had a rapier and was looking for a chance to meet the snake woman's thrusts with one of his own. A young man, probably not a full one yet. He had blonde, windswept hair and light skin. Thin, too.
“Alec,” called the bulkier one in a much deeper voice. An older one, black hair and a small beard. Bulky, and judging by his musculature, probably a soldier. His skin was the shade of a northerner. Mareth noticed on his shield was a familiar looking design. Almost like a magical symbol.
“And you?” Avira turned to the lamia, who barely gave her a glance before thrusting at Hank, hoping to catch him off guard.
“Filthy sandrunners!” she cursed as he dodged.
“Not one for talk then. We do this the hard way. Mareth.” Avira quickly pointed to a nearby shifting point in the sand, and to the lamia's tail.
“What do you expect me to do?”
“I know you've got tricks up your sleeve, use 'em! I'll help Hawke and Alec, so get to work when you see an opening!”
Avira was more perceptive than he thought. She knew he had Witness around. She probably didn't know the specifics, but denying it and not using him wouldn't be good. The lamia had to be taken care of or their journey would end here. Well, he could probably flee fine, but without Avira he'd be prey for the others. Being kidnapped wasn't on his schedule.
Mareth circled around near the lamia's back. Hopefully he wouldn't be a target here. “Witness.” He kept a low voice.
“Right here,” stated Witness simply, standing next to him in an instant. “I know what you need. You are aware of what that will do, though?”
“Quite, but there's no choice.”
He nodded. “Where to?”
“There.” Mareth pointed to the same shifting spot of sand that Avira had pointed out. It was hard to see unless you were looking. It's a wonder that Avira could spot them so easily. But like he said, she was perceptive.
Avira was at the side of Hank, facing down the snake woman with a smile on her face. These thrusts seemed difficult to dodge, especially on this ever shifting sand. They came rapidly, and the lamia was capable of covering herself very well with that shield. But Avira was having an easier time as it went on.
“Now!” The wolf girl yelled out in time for another stab, this time dodging by a hair and firmly gripping the shaft. Her legs were easily uprooted, but Avira was expecting that and used the momentum of the draw back to aim a kick directly at the snake's jaw.
A hiss rang out, and her foot met the hot metal of the shield. Hank aimed a precise strike right through the lamia's weapon hand, making her drop the spear as Alec rushed forward, striking her side with the mace. Avira fell on her back and scrambled up while the lamia screamed out in pain, her side caved in.
Mareth covered his ears and nodded to Witness. Not bothered by the sound, Witness was already in place and grabbed the tail firmly. The power that was required to lift the tail caused Witness' transparent form to solidify, the other four suddenly noticing him. Witness strained, his facade breaking away momentarily to show his true form: a monster that looked like every type of ghost and daemon sewn together.
He was bipedal, had two different wings, his limbs were both different, and his skin was covered in patchwork chunks of various different types of fur, scales, and smooth skin. He didn't even have an identifiable head or eyes.
Mareth could hear Avira cursing and see Hank and Alec staring blankly at the monster before them. The lamia looked back and her eyes bulged, fear overtaking her as she struggled to free herself from the monstrosity that had its claws sunk into her tail, piercing the chainmail covering her scales with ease.
“You fucking sandwalkers will all perish!” she screamed out at the group, “especially you damn mages!”
That was the last protest she could give before Witness reached his destination and plopped her tail down. The dunetrapper was quick to burst out of the sand, wrapping its long mouth around her tail and disappearing under the dune. It took the top of the lamia a second before she felt the tug, and vanished under the sand with one last scream.
“Thank the Spirits that's over...” Avira muttered, then looked to Mareth. “We're going to talk about this.”
“I thought we might.” Mareth noticed that Witness was already gone. “We can talk about it after we introduce ourselves to our two companions.”
“I'm just escorting him,” Alec spoke, nodding to Hank. “I'm from L'Ries, and I'll be heading back as soon as possible.”
“Ah, right, forgive my manners,” Hank said, “it's a pleasure to meet you two, strangeness aside. I'm Hawke, wind elemental and soldier of Vakia. That's actually my destination right now.” The blonde hair and lighter skin definitely marked him as a Vakian. Alec nudged him on the shoulder and the two shared a glance. Hawke, realizing his mistake, smacked himself on the head. “It's Hank I mean! Every damned time!” he cursed himself.
Avira laughed, but that brought a moment of realization to Mareth as he looked at this seemingly noble figure, his demeanor striking Mareth at once.
Before him stood the crown prince of Vakia.