The morning sun cast a bleak light over the crimson desert. Asher leaned against a jagged rock, eyeing Lira as she prepared supplies for their journey. After last night’s discovery—that he was bound to this strange, brutal world—his mind buzzed with questions he hadn’t dared voice. His companion, a reluctant ally at best, remained an enigma he wasn’t yet certain he could trust.

Lira’s gaze drifted over to him, her golden eyes sharp with lingering suspicion. She approached him, holding out a thin strip of dried meat. “Here. You’ll need energy if you’re going to survive out here.”

Asher glanced at the offering, but didn’t reach for it. “Generous of you, but I don’t eat handouts.”

Her mouth twisted into a smirk. “Suit yourself. But out here, it’s either eat or die.”

“So, you’re a guide now? Offering charity to lost souls?”

“Hardly,” she shot back, crossing her arms. “If you think you can make it alone, feel free. You’ll last, what, another hour? Two, tops?”

Asher narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms in turn. “I’ve made it this far.”

She laughed, a sound harsh as the barren landscape around them. “Barely. Let me guess—you’re new to Aetherium, aren’t you?”

He hesitated, unwilling to admit weakness. Lira’s keen gaze latched onto his silence, and she raised an eyebrow. “Thought so. There’s no shame in it, but you’ll need more than stubborn pride to survive.”

“What makes you think I care about surviving?” He matched her stare, unwilling to show any sign of vulnerability.

Lira’s eyes softened just a fraction, her voice lowering. “Everyone cares about surviving. Even if they don’t want to admit it.”

Asher studied her, noting the small scars marking her face, the wear in her armor, the grim determination in her gaze. She had seen war, or something close enough, and survived it. That alone made her an asset he couldn’t ignore—at least, not yet.

“You’re awfully invested in whether or not I make it,” he said, keeping his tone light, though his eyes were probing. “What’s your angle?”

She scoffed, tossing the meat at his feet. “Think of it as self-preservation. You’re an oddity here, and oddities tend to bring trouble. If you get yourself killed, fine. But if you somehow survive, I’d rather have a say in what kind of trouble you’re bringing.”

“Smart of you,” he conceded, bending down to retrieve the food. He took a deliberate bite, chewing slowly. The taste was bland and dry, but he forced himself to eat, never breaking eye contact.

“So, what’s next, O Wise Guide? Are you going to give me some grand tour of this… wasteland?”

Her eyes flickered with something like amusement. “Not quite. But I can at least get you out of the wastes alive. Beyond that, it’s up to you.” She paused, her gaze slipping to the distant peaks that rose, jagged and foreboding, against the horizon. “There’s a city north of here. First light. It’s dangerous, but safer than staying out here.”

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Asher tilted his head, considering. “Dangerous how?”

“Let’s just say the city has its own rules. And breaking them usually ends in death.”

“So… exactly my kind of place,” he replied, a faint smile curving his lips.

She rolled her eyes. “Cocky. I hope you’re half as capable as you think you are, or you’ll end up in a ditch by morning.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve disappointed someone,” he retorted, unable to help himself. Her gaze sharpened, but she let the comment pass. They began walking, a cautious silence settling over them.

After a while, Asher spoke up. “Tell me about the people who live here. This world. It’s… different.”

Lira’s brow furrowed, glancing at him with curiosity. “Different how?”

He shrugged, searching for the right words. “The air, the… rules. It’s as though this place operates by some twisted logic.”

Lira chuckled dryly. “It’s called magic. Aether, to be exact. It’s in the air, the ground, every living thing. We’re born with it, and it shapes us as much as we shape it.” She eyed him skeptically. “You really didn’t know?”

“No,” he admitted, feeling a flicker of irritation at his ignorance. “Where I come from, magic’s… not real.”

“Then it sounds like you come from a very dull place,” she muttered, a trace of amusement in her voice.

They walked on, the silence returning as they made their way through the barren landscape. Hours passed, and Asher felt the oppressive heat wearing on him, each step heavier than the last. But he kept pace, refusing to show any weakness.

Finally, they crested a rise, and the view below took his breath away. A sprawling city stretched out, nestled among the rocks and cliffs, its towers rising like blackened fingers toward the sky. Dark smoke curled up from countless chimneys, giving the place an ominous, almost sinister air.

“Welcome to First Light,” Lira said, a note of weariness in her voice. “It’s a place for survivors, thieves, and anyone with a grudge against the world.”

“A city of rogues, then,” Asher murmured, intrigued.

“Not exactly.” Her tone darkened. “They have their own order here, one you’d do well to follow. The city may look lawless, but the people in charge don’t take kindly to rule-breakers.”

He gave her a sidelong look. “And what exactly do you do here, Lira? Somehow, I don’t see you as just another citizen.”

Her expression turned guarded. “I have… alliances here. People who owe me favors.” She glanced at him, a hint of challenge in her gaze. “You think you’re clever, Asher. But in First Light, you’re a novice.”

He smirked. “Guess I’ll learn fast, then.”

“You’d better,” she replied quietly, her eyes darkening.

They descended toward the city gates, their footsteps echoing in the stillness. The gate guards eyed them suspiciously, their hands drifting to weapons as they sized up Asher. Lira stepped forward, her stance relaxed but commanding.

“He’s with me,” she said simply, and after a tense moment, the guards nodded, stepping aside.

Asher followed her through the gates, suppressing his curiosity as they entered the narrow, winding streets. The city was alive with sounds, voices, the smells of cooking fires mingling with something bitter and metallic. It was nothing like he had ever seen—darker, rawer, as though the entire place was clinging to life by sheer will.

“Stay close,” Lira muttered, leading him through a maze of alleys and side streets. They stopped outside a dilapidated building with a weathered sign hanging over the door, a faint glow seeping through the cracks.

“What’s this?” he asked, eyeing the place with suspicion.

“A safehouse,” she replied. “At least for now. And a chance for you to learn the rules of this world before you get yourself killed.”

Asher glanced at her, sensing more to the offer than her words revealed. “You’re helping me… why?”

Lira met his gaze, her expression unreadable. “Maybe I see something in you. Or maybe I just don’t want another dead fool staining the streets.” She shrugged, pushing open the door. “Take it or leave it.”

He stepped inside, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. “Fine. But don’t expect gratitude.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied, her tone cool. “Just stay out of trouble. If you get us both killed, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Asher smirked. “Good luck with that.”