Red couldn't take his time to communicate with her further. He could hear Shulga yapping for his attention, and it was by some miracle that the woman had fallen in this secluded spot. He could keep her hidden until he found a way out for them both.

Red pointed at himself and said, "Red."

The woman glanced up at him with unseeing eyes. He then used his shovel to spell out his name in Elan. It was the bastardization of his real name, but one that would do. The man took a moment to stare at the symbols in the sand. He tempered down the emotions that grew at the sight of them. The name Aram felt strange to see on the sand. Red preferred the simplicity of his current nickname. He had one red eye, so being called Red was good enough.

The man looked up at the woman, who was muttering incoherently in another language.

The blows to her head seemed to have taken her wits, but Red didn't have time to care. He pointed at her and then the symbols in the sand. Then he gestured for her to do the same.

The woman mutely dug her fingers into the sand. The symbols for Merin appeared in Elan. She mutely pointed to herself before looking away.

The ni symbol for God at the end of her name almost made Red pause. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the sand cave nearby. He all but tossed her inside. She looked hollowed by Elan's loss, but he paid her no mind.

"Stay." He said. He used his shovel to draw a line in the sand. With precision, he drew images of monsters and the Tyrin slavers outside of that line. He then pointed in the direction of these dangers.

Shulga's yaps were getting closer, and he didn't want to linger. Red left the silver-haired lady in the cave and returned to the slaver camp.

Merin's anticipation made her heart beat hard like a drum. For the first time in hundreds of years, her magic was gone. This may be her last chance to undo it all.

She fell to her knees and clasped her hands in prayer. It was an action Merin couldn't remember doing for far too long. She had long lost her right to pray, but she was finally praying after all this time.

"Is my time for penance over?" Merin said as her eyes looked up at the sky. She must have fallen deeply into her thoughts for hours because the burning sun was lowering itself to bed.

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She whispered names near and dear to her heart as one might chant in prayer. "It has to be time." The cursed magic she had been gifted was finally relinquished from her grasp.

The image of the one who promised her a new life flashed before her eyes, and she impatiently turned away from that memory. Like so many others before him, he hadn't listened to her desires. Merin didn't crave life. She craved relief from it. All she wanted was to rest.

Merin stood up and looked around for anything sharp. Aram took his shovel with him regretfully. Her fingers clawed at her neck as she sought the spilt in her flesh.

Merin's trembling fingers withdrew from the tender flesh, and she grew pale. The only signs that she had bled were the flakes on her hands. The wound had already healed. So her immortality was still flowing through her wretched veins.

Manic laughter spilled from her lips as curses rang from her throat.

"I am bereft of my magic and doomed to rot in immortal flesh. You have truly outdone yourself now." She said. Her words echoed despondently in the airy sand cavern.

She glanced down at the drawings Aram had left in the sand. As she inspected the artwork, she thought it was amazing what that man could do with a shovel. Drawing things in the sand might be the only useful method the two could use to communicate from now on.

There was little they could do immediately about the language barrier between them. The Elan language was meant to honor their God, not to be used for idle chatter. That meant only valuable or important names, objects, items, or things had meaning in the Elan language.

Aram wasn't a name Merin recognized as one of those things. One name was similar to what Aram had drawn; that was how she understood it. But why hadn't he spelled that one out in the sand?

The man in question emerged and strode into the cave with his hands full of supplies.

Red volunteered his usual services with the slavers, but this time to do more work. It wasn't too out there for the taciturn man to toil longer than most. It was the first time he had offered to do it, and Shulga couldn't keep his sour expression off his face.

Doing this flew in the face of all that Red held dear. He only needed to keep his head down and do enough until he could escape. This Merin was his best bet so far to make it out alive. Unfortunately, he was switching tactics, which might make him stick out.

But his God had handed him a way out on a silver platter, and he would take it to escape this hell.

So, this was why he showed up at the cave with an armful of supplies. He only needed a handful more days of work in the blueleech area until he would be ready.

Merin's pale face still lacked color, but two rosy spots grew on her cheeks when she sniffed the food in his arms. The supper for both of them tonight was a rice bean patty.

He handed her her portion, and she dove into the patty with both hands. Red watched her teeth nibble and chew like a small animal through the patty.

"It could be poison." He said. If she understood him, she might have overreacted, but he knew she couldn't. She inhaled the food as if she were dying.

Red ate his portion slowly as he thought of how tomorrow might go. Shulga was going to linger if he could to spy on him. Red must put out blueleeches to stop the rat from getting too close.

Tomorrow, he will test this lunar creature and see just how magical she is.