She struggled to swim. If she opened her mouth then she would suffocate. Battling the current, they were going towards a huge dip in elevation.

“Ashojan? Where are you?” Saya popped her head out of the rushing sand. She could hear a faint response further down the sandriver. She could feel each grain passing through her hair and clothes.

Sandrivers. They were long streams of flowing sand grains, in which they emptied out into sinkholes or ravines. The only motion that powered them was gravity. Huge amounts of sand would collapse and fall downward. Sandrivers were a natural phenomenon in Yahmajô̗ Alą̧̄utl, and prime mining sites for ore companies.

She had to find Ashojan before they reached the end.

“Oi! Suruj!...”

Suruj had passed out. There was no time to waste. He would soon bleed out. Saya walked over and kneeled down beside him. She tore a piece of her shemagh off and wrapped it around his mutilated stubs. The gray cloth soon turned into crimson.

“Guys, make sure Suruj gets out of here alive,” She spoke softly, “And tell him that I’m sorry.”

If only she had volunteered earlier, then Suruj wouldn’t have lost anything. Maybe he wouldn’t lose anymore then what he’d lost already. She couldn’t help but to feel the gloom upon seeing his grief stricken face whenever Saya looked at him in Wakoku.

Everyone was struck by deafening silence, the infinite void making it worse.

“I want to go home…” Hyun-woo blurted, his eyes swelling, “At least it was better living in Al-Qarakh, not here…”

“I have one question, Mr. Thiệu,” Saya rose up, “If you’re this strong, then why aren’t you fighting in the Dineh Kazaàd?...”

“...” He turned to his side before answering. “For the sake of my wife… I will not dirty my hands in the tournament.”

“And why is that?”

“‘Why is that?’ eh?...” Thiệu covered his face with his hands, beginning to laugh. “My only desire is… to kill Ayai Toya. The virus that started Al-Wa. My sole reason for vengeance.”

Ashojan was silent the entire time. It was completely different from moments before Suruj fell from the sky. He was about to attack her with a knife at that time. He was still on his knees, staring at the ground.

“You and Ashojan will be punished,” Thiệu held out his hand, “A rescue team will come in three days. Mahou Idou.”

A portal-like structure opened up beneath Saya and Ashojan, revealing a fast moving current of tan.

“Ashojan!” Saya swam downstream in the violent river of sand. She could feel the crunch of grains in her teeth. The rocks battered her eyes. Endless surging power. Bobbing her head once, wiping her face, she saw the sandriver emptying out into a massive pit. It was the size of a city. It had a giant rim that extended for eternity, with the abyssal drop to swallow anyone in darkness. Near the edge of the ridge, she spotted him. Ashojan struggled to stall upstream.

“Use sahar to launch yourself away from the current!” Saya yelled, swimming to the bank. “Alam Botok!”

Particles around her glowed. She flung herself out of the river. Landing clumsily on the sleeping sand, Ashojan was still near the edge. He was going to fall.

“I can’t use sahar!... I can’t, I can’t!...”

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She watched as Ashojan’s feet swept under him, hanging on to his life by his fingers. Wait, what was she doing?

“What’re you doing, Saya? Help him!” She said to herself as she sprinted to the ledge. But it was too late. He was already in a falling motion before her, descending into the black pit. Without hesitation Saya leaped off.

Saya caught him midair, holding Ashojan by his legs and back. She got him, but…

“Crap! Alam Botok!”

Particles manifested. They were projected upwards. But it wasn’t long before they began to fall again. Not enough power. Her low saharic mastery couldn’t allow her to increase the intensity of the spell. They couldn’t reach the surface. Sand battered them. Saya chanted again, again, and again.

“A little help here?!” She shouted wearily, still holding him in her arms.

“Shut up! I told you I can’t!”

“Okay, okay! Hugghhhh!” Saya held her breath as they continued their plunge into darkness.

The fall sang a woodwind flute. Counter the flow. She followed the shredding of the koto strings rattling in her ear. A large influx of sahar entered her body. A lock of her hair began to transform into a silver color.

“Alam Botok…!”

In a flash they were above the surface. As Saya looked behind, she saw a trail of flowing sand that followed behind them. She let go of Ashojan. They landed abruptly in a soft dune. Hunched over with her arms barely supporting herself, she coughed out saliva full of sand and blood. If a person manifested particles past their own sahar level, then this would happen. Her body couldn’t handle the immense quantity of it, unlike Toqemur or L. Once she gained control of her breathing, Saya wiped her lip and stood up. Ashojan was frantically fixing the bandana around his face.

“You alright?” She walked over to him, who was laying down facing the sky. “Do you know where we are?”

“This is the God’s Basin,” He responded hoarsely, getting to his feet, “You can see Dineh Kazaàd ‘Autónoma from here.”

Saya looked to her left, and saw the grand megapolis peeking out from the horizon. It was around the size of Rümqî itself. The pride of Tasdaha and the Dineh people. Then she stepped back in surprise. At first she didn’t want to believe that it was there, but there was a colossal windmill, much resembling a turbine, that stood in the foreground of the city. Dineh Kazaàd ‘Autónoma was the home of the tournament she had longed for.

“Hey-”

“Piss off,” Ashojan didn’t even want to listen to what she had to say. Saya took a deep breath. They needed to resolve their volatile interactions soon or they wouldn’t survive.

“Do you hate me?”

“I despise people like you. Happy-go-lucky gungho people, always getting by the easy way…”

“‘Getting by the easy way’? Despise me?” She repeated after him, “It seems that we are both mistaken. And what if I told you that I felt the opposite way?”

“Tch. Don’t get sappy,” His voice got angrier, “You don’t know anything about me.”

Saya smiled, giggling enough to annoy him.

“Right, I don’t know anything about you,” She stretched her arms, “Yet you say that you hate me.”

“What are y-”

“So tell me so I can understand.”

“Huh?” Ashojan was taken aback. “Why do I have to explain myself to you?”

“Well, if you refuse to understand then you will understand nothing at all,” She shrugged sarcastically. “So, why can’t you use sahar?”

“I’m not talking to you.”

“If you can’t use sahar then it will be a problem.”

“You…”

Ashojan drew his small knife and ran towards her. Saya quickly parried a jab, guiding his hand under. But he recovered and ran a slash to her face. Ducking, Ashojan brought down the blade. Throughout this pointless skirmish, she noticed the way he held the knife. He brought it down to an angle, and upwards in an angle. His fighting style was exactly as she remembered.

“Alam Baohu!” She blocked his swipe, his hand shaking.

“You got it easy because you can use sahar, eh? Ever thought once about the people who can’t? Spoiled brat!” He broke through the shield with sheer force. Particles dispelled.

“Why are you trying to kill me?” She sidestepped him, shoving him to the ground. “We were being taught by Kwazhak! We are equals!”

“Equals, huh? Pieces of shit, that’s what we are,” Ashojan stood up with rage, “This is why everyone deserves to die in the Dineh Kazaàd, Izdaha!”

“You’re saying things that don’t make sense. Just put the knife down. Please,” Saya wiped her forehead. She took a step forward. Entering a great stance, the hissing buzz of a sitar leading her. In a blink of an eye, she was in front of him. Ashojan slashed with great reflex. The Al’Riq tambourine thundered. Saya dodged, grabbing his hand. She held onto his shoulder with her other hand and snatched the blade from him. A final blow came as she impacted his neck with the side of her hand.