Kita's eyes burst open as she finds herself laying on her back once again. A lightbulb dangles above her face, barely illuminating the dark brown tent with a soft orange glow. Did I die? She wonders to herself but realizes she has the same blunt pain surging through her head and back.

"Skwaaa, she's awake," Calls out a strange, creature-like voice as she hears the ring of thin metal sheets colliding.

Her body twitches as she sits up on a table in the centre of the room. Her spine jitters while she reaches for her aching head to feel a properly wrapped bandage on it. She looks at her body and realizes she is in underwear, with bandages covering most of her torso, legs and arms.

"Why the hurry?" Croaks the voice of an old, frail lady seated behind Kita. She turns to face the dark-skinned lady with deep wrinkles all over her freckled face. Her braided, grey hair extends down to her waist as she stands up with the support of a dense stick in her left hand.

"How long have I been unconscious?" Kita asks.

"Three or four rotations," The old lady responds.

"Why did you help me?" Kita squint's her eyes in distrust.

"This is not the first time," The lady responds, walking over to a nearby table to then start mixing herbs and powders into a bowl. "I know your soul was taken by the dark one,"

"The dark one?" Kita asks as she shifts her legs over the side of the table.

"Your eyes," The old lady responds as she pours water into the bowl and stirs all the ingredients. "They're devoid of any real-life… Or colour for that matter,"

Kita glances into a cracked mirror, suspended on the support beam of the tent. She puts her hand against her tan, brown cheek as she looks into her abyssal black pupils. She stammers away from the mirror, the lifelessness in her eyes sends a shiver down her spine. She raises her hands to tie up her dreadlocked hair and glances one last time at the mirror. Wondering what would go through someone's mind if they noticed.

"What of this strange, creature?" Kita asks, pointing at the metallic animal, flapping its two steel arms as it tilts its head at her.

"I have a name, skwaa," The creature responds.

The old lady giggles, "His name is Rayn,"

"He's obnoxious," Kita adds, scanning all the strange geometric patterns finely sculpted into the steel.

"Skwaa, She's a freeloader," Rayn responds.

"Why do these steel parts act aware?" Kita asks, perplexed by the rude, yet lifelike response from it.

"What do you mean steel parts? Skwaa,"

"He was given to me a long time ago. I was told that there was once a creature of beauty that roamed the planet by soaring through the skies, with vibrant colours draped across its body. I believe it was called… A bird."

"A bird?" Kita responds.

"I was told that the soul of the last living bird was somehow placed into this steel body- a replica of its true form, made to preserve its essence,"

"Hmm," Kita scoffs, "Seems like witchcraft," She says, as she pokes the creature's cold belly.

"Skwaa, at least I have a soul," The bird responds. Grinding its wings as it chases away her touch.

The old lady brings Kita a bowl with thick green juice inside it. The smell is pungent, causing Kita to gag before blocking her nose with her fingers.

"Drink up," The lady says, jiggling the bowl for Kita to take it.

"Whatever that is can go straight to hell," Kita scoffs as she pushes the bowl away from her.

The lady puts it on the table and shrugs, "If you'd prefer to suffer with pain, be sure to do it quietly,"

Kita eyes the slime as thick bubbles break its surface like a boiling porridge. She can already taste it as she breathes through her mouth. She bites down on her lip, before grabbing the bowl with both hands and tilting her head back to pour the juice down her throat. Its clumpy, warm, powder-like texture creeps down her throat as she rapidly swallows it all. Gagging as she tries to hold it down.

The lady hands her a glass of water which she chugs trying to wash the foul taste, but her mind is quickly drawn away from the ick in her mouth as a loud howl screeches from outside, shaking the tent as a gale beats against the fabrics. She watches the support beam in the centre of the room rattle with worry before she looks back at the old lady.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"The myst?" Kita asks.

The old lady nods as she takes back her bowl. "It grows larger with each rotation,"

"Really?" Kita asks.

"Not many people know this truth, but I have lived long enough to see it for myself,"

"You must have been there when the myst started, right old lady?"

The old lady taps Kita on the shoulder with her stick, "I'm not that old,"

"Skwaa, debatable," Rayn jests, squeezing a chuckle out of Kita.

"I was told it dissolves the body of anyone exposed to it," Kita says, "But I've never seen someone caught in it before."

"Then you are fortunate," The old lady responds, "Few witness the myst without being consumed,"

The old lady walks out the room, waving at Kita to follow her. "I've prepared a meal. You may join me if you have the strength to reach the dinner table,"

"And if I can't?" Kita asks.

"Then you starve,"

Kita's feet crash into the muddy floors of the tent, squishing its way between her toes before she notices the mess of this room. Open books on all the tables, some of them have pot plants and snipped leaves lying all over the place. And a mess of dirty beakers and other utensils lay everywhere except the sink.

"How do you work like this?" Kita spews as she cringes at the sight. She enters the next room, suddenly eating her words to the spotless, neatly organised drawers on the rim of the tent, with a circular rug wrapping around a fireplace in its centre.

"Wash your feet," Says the old lady, pointing to a bucket of water ahead of the rug.

"How long have you been here?" Kita asks, having never seen a tent so organised before.

"I don't travel with cities," She responds, taking a seat on the carpet and reaching into a pan on the fire. "Rayn and I have been here for a few dozen rotations by now,"

"Skwaaa, sixty-three,"

"Sixty-three?! Why not travel with others?" Kita asks confused.

"Those cities are dangerous. Scouring the globe to avoid the myst? What a waste of time."

Cities move following the behaviour of the myst. The timing and location of rotations can be predicted with enough astronomical knowledge, so large groups of people organize around this knowledge to avoid the myst as frequently as possible. A city only remains in a location for a few days before the rotation changes course. The tents that citizens carry with them have to be ready to move within short notice- so it is not common to see a tidy living space.

"So you prefer to embrace the roaming death?" Kita jests.

The old lady arches her back as she chuckles, "I haven't heard anyone call it that in a long time,"

The old lady hands Kita a bowl of crystal clear soup that reflects golden in the light of the fire. She's never seen it before. It looks as if it's for hydration but it smells much better than any soup she's had before. The lady passes along a few pieces of bread, presumably for dipping into the soup.

"Thank you for your kindness," Kita bows her head, holding the bowl up above it.

"It's my pleasure," The lady smiles.

"Skwaaa, freeloader," Rayn clangs his wings.

Kita dips a chunk of bread into the soup and shoves the whole thing in her mouth. Her eyes open in shock as she looks at the unfamiliar, wizardly old lady.

"This-" Kita stutters her words, unable to finish… She simply dips another piece.

This is the best food I've ever tasted.

Well, she thinks so. Surely she doesn't react like this to her first meal after death every time? She feels the taste surging on her tongue. The crispy, toasted bread coupled with the tasty, vegetable soup is seducing her sense. It's… Familiar.

Something about this moment rings in her mind as if it is a memory. But, this isn't a memory.

"You said this isn't the first time you've helped me?" Kita asks, recalling the old lady's statement.

"Only once before. Although, I was much younger then,"

"What?" Kita ask, shocked that her familiarity may be warranted

"Back then you tried to absorb my soul," She giggles, then takes another bite of her bread.

"Why would I-?" Kita pauses, squinting her brows in confusion.

"You forgot it all, this time?" The old lady responds. "You need souls to use that magic of yours. Since your soul is still missing,"

"Souls?" Kita asks, looking at her hand. "Magic?"

"Dirty soul stealer, skwaaa,"

"Yes, you told me that the more souls you consume, the more powerful you become,"

"Hmm," Kita mumbles, "Do you know how I take them?

"Well, when you tried to take mine, you raised your hand to my face but I stopped you before anything happened,"

"How did you stop me?"

"After you woke up on my table and threatened to consume me, I offered to feed you this soup," She smiles, "You're a much better guest the second time around,"

Kita chuckles, taking her last bite of bread and sipping on the soup. She must have died a lot since then because this lady is old. How many times have I died? She tries to ignore the thought, but an overwhelming sense of failure is eclipsing her confidence. She can't even remember what happened when she lost, how can she learn from this?

"You'll need to consume the souls of others if you want the strength to get yours back,"

For some reason, this doesn't bother Kita. No resistance in her mind to the idea of taking the lives of others. Is it because she's done it before?

"And you're not opposed to me 'consuming' the soul of others?" Kita asks.

"I don't care about anyone except Rayn," The old lady responds.