The armor is crystalline. It’s sort of a blue, white mix that ends up oddly translucent. And inside...are bones. A whole body of bones.
The skeleton looks clean, like the tower walls. Its limbs are a perfect white, almost as if it’d been bleached by the sun. They're all perfectly arranged, nothing missing or out of place, and it’s all held together by the armor.
The positioning is odd. It’s propped against the wall like it’s taking a day off, and I wish it was alive enough to talk. I want to know how they died, or if what killed them is nearby. More so, I want to know what happened to their back, because the skeleton is sort of scrunched up. Its spine ripples out in bends and the armor follows the hills of the bone.
It’s possible that the armor conformed to the body after it contorted. But I’m not sure if the armor has that capability, or if a spine can bend like that without breaking. For a moment a foggy part of my brain tells me no to both of those questions, which leads me to consider that this might not be a human.
That thought, above all, shakes me.
It makes me pause, eyeing the skeleton, because there’s a memory pricking at the edge of my mind that I can’t seem to touch. It feels foreign... strange, like it comes from a place different from the others.
...
Well, figuring it out won’t help me survive, so I push the oddity away, telling myself I’ll come back to it.
Instead, I start circling the body.
The significance of the armor isn’t lost on me. A skeleton wearing armor is one that needed armor, and whether or not it worked out for them my mind still turns to salvaging.
There are no seams that I can see. The crystalline shell is one continuous piece from toe to helm. I probe my fingers around the grooves, searching for some sort of release, but nothing pops out.
I reach around the back, wondering how much of a challenge this is going to be, when my fingers touch something soft. I pull back, startled, then drop into a crouch to peer at the space behind the armor.
It’s... It’s a bag.
A bag!
Excitement shoots through me and I immediately push the armor aside, anticipation drowning out any leftover hesitance.
The size of the satchel is thrilling. It’s as wide as my torso when I hold it up and the strap is perfectly suited for travel. I run my fingers over the whole of it, smiling at the feathery soft touch. The material yields beneath my exploration, but it’s sturdy.
Ha! I hadn’t expected my luck to be this good when I woke up on a dam. A bag was a huge find, but there was also the possibility that what the satchel contained was even better than the bag itself.
I run my hands along the satchel until I find the clasp, flipping it open to peel back the lid.
It looks half empty at first glance, which is unfortunate, because resources are nonexistent in this desert, but the extra space is also good. There’s plenty of room to fit my white box, stick and a couple other items.
I reach in the bag and grab some sort of cloth, silky. I pull it out, noting that it’s thinner between my fingers than it appears. The material slips over the lip of the bag as I pull it out, the bulk of it puddling on the floor. It looks like…a cloak, my mind pings. Surprisingly it’s black. The break from white is shocking, and I eye it with admittedly undue suspicion before setting it carefully on the stone. Eagerly, I continue my exploration, slowly piling items at my feet.
By the time the bag is empty I feel a sigh building behind my lips. There are dozens of odd white objects, and I have no idea what any of them are.
I want to be excited. Some of these could be useful someday, but for now I’ve got nothing. I’m lost, alone in an alien blue desert – and none of these are food.
The sigh finally escapes as a hiss, and I stuff the items back into the bag, along with my white box and stick. I glance at the armor again, itching to give it another study, but my stomach chooses now to remind me of its presence. And it’s right. I need food and water.
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I consider the ocean. I’m still wary about testing it out, but I’m running out of options, and the tower has nothing more to give.
I sling the satchel over my shoulder and descend the ladder, passing the empty floors at a quick clip. The bottom floor is darker than it was before and a glance at the sky as I exit shows the sun has dipped considerably. I quicken my steps towards the water, considering my options, but...
I stop.
There’s a flutter of leaves to my left and my eyes skip towards the quiet fall of sand. The closest flower bud exhales, and the blue particles drift in mesmerizing circles.
I want to try it.
It tickles at the back of my throat, and I lick at cracked lips. I’m curious. I want to touch a grain to my tongue just to test for taste. It’d probably be safer than the ocean, all things considered, and I decide there’s not really a risk.
My knees bend and I scoop a handful of blue into my palm. The particles are sparkling and a memory meanders its way to the front of my mind. It looks like…sugar.
Ah, sugar. I feel pleasure seep through me as the word rolls around in my head. I don’t remember eating it, but I remember liking it.
I squint at the blue crystals, running a thumb across the grains. Saliva pools in my mouth and my tongue darts out to lick it.
Ah…oh, this is really good. This…this is better than sugar!
I tip the rest into my mouth. It slips along my tongue, melting, and bursts with delicious sweetness against my tastebuds. The taste is overwhelming and I’m only vaguely aware that my hunger and thirst die as a second scoop of sand slides down my throat.
Wow. Forget restaurants. This is the best! I could eat this for….
“Ugh!”
I spit and rake my teeth across my tongue, but…ugh, it’s still there – that aftertaste!
Why? Why!?
Surely, nothing has ever tasted this bad…it’s like…it’s like…
Nothing comes to mind. Possibly because this particular memory is slow to emerge, or because nothing has ever tasted this bad.
The vile flavor keeps me from sampling further, and I plop onto the sand, sputtering every couple of seconds. My tongue feels like it’s covered in a film of bitter paste and I can’t stop the grimace from pinching my lips.
Eventually, I register that my hunger feels sated, as does my thirst. Strange, but I’m starting to suspect that the normal my mind keeps reminding me of does not apply in this place. It’s possible that my brain thinks I’m full while my body remains unaffected. A side effect of the sand maybe? But there’s no way to know without waiting.
Well...my eyes flick up to the sky and I watch the sun dip further toward the horizon. Time will tell I suppose.
My guess is that there’s only a few hours left in the day and the temperature drops significantly as I sit distractedly on the sand.
A shiver pulls me from my stupor and I pull open my satchel, tugging the white box from inside. A quick upending has the compass tumbling out and into the bag. The direction hasn’t changed and it still pulses lightly as I nestle it next to all the other gadgets.
The box I flip fully open and shove it into the sand. A flick of my wrist has the case working as scoop and soon a large helping of sand fills the space.
Even as I close the lid, I’m regretting my decision to gather the blue horror.
It tastes horrible – beyond horrible! But if it actually turns out to be food then this sand could be my greatest resource yet. Right now, I’m surrounded by sparkling desert, but I expect one day this buffet will end and I’ll be in a new biome with more uncertainties.
I secure the box in my satchel and return to the tower. A quick climb takes me back up top and I scan in all directions.
There’s sand and ocean, as far as I can see. No more towers appear in the distance, nothing but endless blue.
I resign myself to spending the night in the tower. It’d be foolish to wander about in the cold when there’s a perfectly good shelter right here. It has its drawbacks, mainly my very dead companion, but I haven’t experienced this place in the dark and I can only imagine what dangers lurk in its depths.
I give the skeleton a polite nod.
It’s creepy, but it’s been very helpful all things considered. “I hope you died well,” I tell it.
…
“Also if you could spare me your armor that would be nice.”
The skeleton is silent.
It’s quiet as expected, but there’s nothing wrong with being thorough.
I dedicate the next couple hours to a courteous exploration of the armor. But as the sun touches the earth I’ve found nothing else. A shiver overtakes me and I eye the dubious black cloak.
It’s as silky and thin as I remember it being.
“Probably not very warm…,” I mutter.
I tug the material over my shoulders, wrapping it tight. The change is instant. I feel cozy and my ears tingle with warmth as I flip the hood over my head. I fasten the clasp at the neck and snuggle up against the curve of the tower wall, feeling content.
I’m completely cocooned in warmth. The temperature is perfect and the silk feels soft against my skin. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt since I’ve woken up.
A slow exhale loosens my muscles and I pull the locket from under my collar, holding it up to my eyes.
I open it slowly, tenderly taking in the gestures, the smile lines and the little touches.
My family.
An ache builds up in my chest, kind of soft and yearning, and I search my memory for the feeling.
... Longing.
My thumb runs across the glass and I whisper the words against its frame. “I’ll find you.”
The sky leaks out its last bit of light, and my eyelids dip into sleep.
“I promise I’ll find you.”