Things were far tenser in the days that followed. Kainene and Olisa, convinced that there would be reprisal attacks, refused to let Somadina out of their sight. Even Rai agreed, perking up whenever he moved around and watching him with narrowed eyes, as though she expected him to run off the moment their backs were turned and leap into the open mouth of an elephant-chimp or something. Which was quite unfair. Danger actively came to him.

But he had to admit that they had a point. Over the past two months, he seemed to have turned into a magnet for all things bad and monstrous. With his luck, the moment he stepped out he’d been set upon by hawk-wasps and stung to death.

But Somadina wasn’t about to allow their protectiveness to get in the way of the original plan. He gave them three days to fret and bicker before rounding on them, hands on his hips.

“What’s with the delay? I thought you said you were going to advance? It’s been four days since then.”

The two Practitioners exchanged a look.

“It’s not as straightforward as you think,” said Olisa slowly. “We’re not just going up a rank. We’re trying to break into a new Realm. That’s not... It’s not easy.”

Somadina stared at him. “You guys do know how to do it, don’t you?” He was struck by a sudden worry. “Isn’t advancement supposed to be supervised by a higher-ranked dibia? You know, to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

Kainene rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure ‘supposed’ is the right word to use there. Sure it's great if you have someone looking out for you, but that’s a privilege, not a requirement. We’ll be fine.”

When Somadina’s concerned face didn’t change she sighed and nudged his shoulder. “Relax, will you? We know what to do. The theory of it anyway. It's not like we’re trying to move up the Soul Realm. Just break into it. No, our true concern is you.”

Somadina’s answering frown was swift. “Me? I’m not following.”

“An advancement of this nature will take much longer than the usual hour or so,” Olisa explained with a frown of his own. “At least a day or two. Probably more. For most of that, we will be unconscious, cultivating anwansi at a higher rate.”

“We will be sitting ducks is what he’s trying to say,” Kainene chimed in. “Active cultivation leaves a trail. Right now, we are at the peak of Practitioner, our body channels at their purest. Once we start advancing, the two of us will basically be beacons to any soul beasts or Aberrations in the area.”

Oh. Somadina paused, thoughtful for a heartbeat before regaining his resolve. “Doesn’t change anything. I’ll keep you two safe.”

He saw their frowns grow deeper, several protests lining up to be uttered, but he held up an interrupting hand. “Hear me out, okay? There aren’t any Aberrations or soul beasts around at the moment, right?”

They exchanged another look before giving a single, reluctant nod.

“There’s a colony of spider-asps east of here, but they are moving away from us,” Olisa said. “Other than that, nothing else.”

“Good. It means if you start now, we have a head start before anything comes investigating.” The look Somadina gave them was fierce. “I know I don’t have the best record so far. You’ve mainly seen me at my worst. But I’m far more capable than that. I took care of my mother for years. So, trust that I’ll protect you for however long it’ll take you to advance.”

Rai made her presence known with a loud yowl and shot an unmistakable glare in his direction. He let out an involuntary smile. “Correction. Rai and I will keep you safe. Now get off your lazy asses and get to Ordained so you can go back to beating me half to death in the name of training.”

For a heartbeat they said nothing, just standing there, eyes wide, staring at him for what seemed like an eternity.

“We’ll need somewhere relatively protected and abundant in our respective anwansi types. We will be needing a lot of it,” Kainene said finally, breaking the spell. “A cave maybe?”

“There should be one close by,” Somadina said, casting a speculative eye over the rocky landscape. “We could light a fire for Kainene. Deeper in so that it doesn’t let out a glow and give us away.” He looked over to Olisa, concerned. “What are we going to do about you?”

“The anwansi from the ambient sounds around will be enough,” came the reassuring reply. “Things are noisier than most people notice.”

“Excellent.” Somadina rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Well then. Let’s go find that cave.”

Kainene and Olisa exchanged a third look, then followed the determined Adept with sheepish grins on their faces.

A few minutes later, the group was gathered around a roaring campfire. They had found a cave halfway up a large hill, its entrance partially obscured by hanging vines. A large pool of water sat next to the mouth, its surface reflecting the starry sky above and closely guarded by a trio of palm trees whose fronds swayed gently in the night breeze. The cave itself wasn't too big, barely a crack in the side of the hill, but it was large enough to provide all of them with a reasonable level of comfort. The rough stone walls were cool to the touch, offering a welcome respite from the humid air outside.

The two Practitioners themselves were sitting cross-legged, eyes closed and breathing slowly as they prepared their bodies for the task ahead and the firelight cast flickering shadows on the cave walls. Even with his limited senses Somadina could feel the anwansi in the air stirring, responding to the presence of the two cultivators.

“Okay,” said Olisa after a full minute of this. He cracked his knuckles in anticipation. “We’re ready.”

“Good luck,” Somadina said, a little anxious. He shot a look at the mouth of the cave. “I won’t let anything touch you.”

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Kainene assured him. They graced him with one last smile before the air around them slowed, anwansi rushing in to fill their open cores as their minds slipped away.

***

The sandship was late again.

But then, at this point, Jidenna had come to accept that as a fact of life, like the sun rising every morning or the moon heralding the hunting period of the deadly hyena-owls. Sparing a glance at the position of the sun in the sky, its rays barely penetrating the gloomy clouds above, he leaned back and stifled a yawn. The rough-hewn wooden chair creaked under his weight, a testament to the makeshift nature of Starfall Harbour's amenities.

A serving boy came around, his feet leaving ephemeral imprints in the black sand that seemed to permeate everything this close to the Dry Lands. A bottle of palm wine was balanced precariously on his tray, and Jidenna snapped it up with one smooth motion, slipping the boy a couple of extra manillas. Nursing his drink, he looked around the bar, its pungent aroma of fermented palm sap mixing with the salt of the nearby sea and the acrid tang of the desert beyond.

The bar was one of many that made up Starfall Harbour, a ramshackle collection of structures that clung to the edge of civilization like barnacles on a ship's hull. Constructed from bamboo and dried palm leaves, all of which was supported on four columns of rough granite, Jidenna had taken a seat by the edge, near enough to the Dry Lands to spot incoming ships and far enough from the other smelly, noisy patrons to keep his senses from being overwhelmed. The roof overhead was in dire need of maintenance, gaps between the fronds offering teasing glimpses of the grey sky above, but it was an adequate shelter from the sun. Not that the sun was currently a factor.

As was often usual this close to the Dry Lands, an odd, pale grey mist clung to the earth, blanketing the world in a chilly embrace. Jidenna considered it, wondering as many often did, if today would be the day it turned the shade and hue of freshly spilt blood. Jidenna took a large gulp of his wine. A Timestorm would make things interesting at least.

A woman passed by, momentarily breaking his reverie. She was clad in the usual voluminous clothing of her people, a tower of baskets balanced expertly on her head. Contrasted with the giant baobab trees that thrust themselves at the sky and the mist that swirled around her, as if unwilling to let go, Jidenna thought she looked rather like some wraith from the spirit world. Amused by that thought, he shook his head and turned back to his monitoring of the desert. He took another swig, frowning at the staccato pounding in his head.

What is taking so long? he wondered, now feeling the first flashes of irritation. I have things I have to do.

As if in answer, a horn sounded, shattering the lazy silence. At once the patrons stirred to life. More drinks were ordered, clothing was adjusted, and nervous and excited chatter increased as everyone strained for a sight of the ship.

They didn't have to wait long.

Coming in with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of Starfall Harbour, the sandship filled the horizon. Balanced on six rudders the size of cows, its bleached white surface sliced through the mist like a hot knife through butter. The ship groaned and came to a halt, the rest of the grey swirls disappearing as its Windweavers, one of the many types of awosan from Irorun, summoned breezes with graceful gestures of their hands. Other, smaller ships in the caravan began to dock as well, spraying black sand everywhere, and the world seemed to energise as the last of the mists were swept away and the ships opened up and began to disgorge their contents. Some of the ships had had chunks ripped out of them, evidence of battles with the toothy Diremaws that called the Dry Lands home. Eyeing the now freed sun, Jidenna finished the last of his palm wine and waited for the man to reach him.

It hadn't been hard to pick out the man's footsteps from the throng. In sharp contrast to the long, leisurely strides of the returning dock workers and commons, the man had the short, quick steps that marked the very rich and very busy nobles and tradesmen of the world. Jidenna would have known those footfalls even without his heightened hearing, having heard their like all his life. He waited until the man had taken a seat before turning to him; the usual professional courtesy expected of a dibia of his rank.

"Jidenna."

"Ahmed Bakr," Jidenna replied lightly. "I'm glad you made it. Though I would have appreciated not having to wait all morning. It's nearly midday."

Ahmed fingered his cane, tilting his head in apology and Jidenna leaned back in consideration. Ahmed was dressed in typical Karfi fashion; clad in purple dashiki and trousers, all etched with beige trimmings. Gold earrings dangled off his ears and his dark hair was cut short, almost to the scalp, an unusual style as most Kajirian men preferred their hair long and braided. His flawless brown skin was devoid of soulmarks from any of the three realms, marking him as unbonded.

Though Karfi and Irorun natives prefer the term mundane, don't they? I wonder what the story there is.

"You still haven't told me why you insisted on meeting only after the sandships arrived."

"It's simply because we had to wait for a contact to arrive with them. Amosis is a dangerous enough ruin, even for my scavengers. Transporting the device you requested, alone, without the protection of a fleet would have been suicide," Ahmed replied, producing a small, intricately carved box from the depths of his pockets. He opened it carefully, revealing an odd, spinning device that seemed to hum with magical energy. Even from where he sat, Jidenna could feel the power radiating from the object, sending a tingling sensation up his spine.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it was to acquire this?" Ahmed said, his voice a mix of pride and exasperation. "You should be grateful you have me, Jidenna. No one else could have procured such an item, let alone gotten it past the ruin’s borders."

Jidenna's eyes widened slightly as he took in the artefact. Its constant motion and the faint glow it emitted spoke of power beyond his current understanding. He reached out to take it, but Ahmed snapped the box shut before he could touch it.

"But that's by the way. I have another meeting to get to so I'll keep this brief," he began, sliding the box across the table to Jidenna. "My contacts in the Savage Lands have confirmed your theory. The two exiles are indeed heading to Sinikat. There's a boy with an owlcat accompanying them, an acolyte that they've taken under their wing."

Jidenna raised an eyebrow. That did not sound like most nobles he knew. "You are certain of this information?"

"Quite. I've been dealing with the fallout all week." Ahmed let out an exhausted sigh. "Apparently, a group of clansmen got carried away and attacked them. Now their kin want repatriation for the death of their members. My fault really. It's what I get for outsourcing work." Another sigh. "It doesn't matter. As people go, they are rather simple-minded. I'm sure we will come to an agreement sooner or later."

"Oh?"

"It is what you pay me for. Remember?"

Jidenna inclined his head, acceding the point. Ahmed rose to his feet.

"If that is all, then I must see myself out," he said, shaking hands again with Jidenna. "Keep that artefact safe. You no longer have a fortune to waste, and acquiring that cost more than you can imagine. I trust that the next time I hear from you it'll be with news of better work. Something more challenging than keeping an eye on three younglings."

Jidenna hummed noncommittally, watching him gather his cane into his arms. However, just before Ahmed had gone more than a few steps, he called out a question.

"This… boy they are journeying with. Do you really believe they're friends with him?"

Ahmed paused. "My spies are never wrong, Jidenna. They've seen the way they behave around the boy. They care about him. Very much."

Interesting. Jidenna tipped his head as the spymaster resumed his casual stroll to one of the sandships. Very interesting. So, the stories are true. Exile hasn't changed them much, has it? They still care for the commons.

Blowing a puff of air, Jidenna hailed the serving boy and ordered another bottle of palm wine. Whoever this mystery boy was, there was no doubt he would be interesting. And who knows? A valuable, unexpected addition to his plans. Jidenna drained the bottle in one gulp, then made a beeline for the sandships, hailing one of their crew members. The man turned, then did a double-take. The usual reaction from people who had never seen albinos before.

"Where to?" asked the man finally, no doubt disconcerted by the inky blackness of Jidenna's eyes.

"Sinikat," said Jidenna with a smile, the mysterious artefact secure in his pocket. "I’m thinking of visiting some new friends."

***

The shuffling is what awakens the boy. He stirs, glancing once at his unconscious charges before turning his attention back to the mouth of the cave. Even though he isn’t cultivating at the moment, he can feel the anwansi they are pulling into themselves. The pressure they are leaving on the world. He pokes the campfire, rekindling the fading embers.

Then it hits. A stench that isn’t a stench. A wrongness with the world.

Aberration.

Fear grips his heart and he rises slowly to his feet. Beside him his owlcat stretches, then abruptly comes alert, pupilless eyes glinting with reflected moonlight.

They see it creep up. Small with a mouth full of danger. It stops and hisses at them, snake-like.

A Direling. And it has not come alone.

***

Olisa awakened to a surge of light. It was warm and gentle, like a mother's kiss, and he let it guide him to his trembling feet. The sensation was both familiar and alien, as if he were experiencing a half-forgotten dream. Kainene was beside him, looking just as shaken, her usual composure momentarily fractured. He held out a hand, and together they steadied themselves, drawing strength from each other's presence.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice echoing strangely, as if they were underwater. The words seemed to ripple through the air, carrying farther than they should have.

"The spirit world," Kainene replied, her eyes wide as she took in their surroundings. "Don't you remember? We've been here before, even though it was only for a few seconds. Every dibia is pulled here when the Firstborn come to bond with us."

As she spoke, he realised it was true. He did recognise the deep purple of the soil beneath his feet. The undulating waves of blue and black that were the skies above, cosmic energies dancing in patterns too complex for his mind to fully comprehend.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Suddenly, Kainene made a small, squeaking noise – a sound so uncharacteristic of her that Olisa instinctively took an involuntary step back. And then he saw them.

The mountain-sized animals looking down at them.

It was astonishing how they had managed not to notice them before, considering that they blotted out the view for kilometres around. Their presence was overwhelming, radiating an ancient power that made Olisa's core quiver in response.

One of them, a sand-coloured fox with a halo of rotating crystals behind his head, peered at them with eyes the hue of burning embers. Each crystal in its halo seemed to contain a universe of its own, spinning in perfect harmony and when it spoke, its voice resonated through Olisa's very being.

"An Adichie and an Ekwueme advancing together? Now, this is surprising."

"Indeed," rumbled the egret standing next to him. Her snow-white wings flexed, the turquoise scripts scattered on them ringing with music as she spread them out in welcome. The sound was both beautiful and terrifying, like the birth of stars. "That hasn't happened in a long time, has it?" She paused for a moment, her gaze piercing through them. "I assume you do not want separate awakenings."

Olisa was proud of the lack of a crack in his voice when he answered. "Yes." Next to him, Kainene gave an affirming nod, her face set with determination.

The facial expressions of the Firstborn did not change – their features too alien to convey emotion in a way humans could easily interpret – but the approval emanating from them was unmistakable. It washed over Olisa and Kainene like a warm breeze, and he had to restrain an urge to giggle.

"Well then," the fox – the Sandking, Olisa realised – said, its tails swishing behind it in a hypnotic dance. "Perhaps all is not yet lost with the secondborn."

The Sandking and the Dawnsinger gathered themselves, their forms seeming to grow even larger, if that were possible. Their eyes blazed with power, and when they spoke, it was with one voice that shook the very fabric of the spirit world:

"Prepare."

And the world slipped away.

***

The boy dodges an attack, barely, his body moving on pure instinct honed by days of constant vigilance. He pivots on his heel, muscles screaming in protest, and kicks at the snarling Direling with all his remaining strength. The creature, a twisted amalgamation of fang and claw, goes flying through the air. It lands athletically on its feet and immediately leaps forward, hunger gleaming in its eyes. But the owlcat is there to meet it, a blur of feathers and fur. In a thrice, the Direling is rent to shreds, its essence dissipating into the air like mist under a harsh sun.

The boy staggers, his vision blurring momentarily as exhaustion threatens to overwhelm him. It's been two days since the first attacks, two days of constant vigilance and intermittent combat. His charges – Olisa and Kainene – are yet to stir from their trance-like state and in that time, the only change he's noticed is the anwansi they are pulling, the current growing stronger with each passing day.

During these relentless hours, he has also learned a harsh lesson: all of his Adept level Seals are useless. This realisation came at a steep cost. His Seals, all of them crafted to affect the mind, require him to connect with those he wishes to influence. But Aberrations are different, their minds a twisted labyrinth of alien thoughts. He tried it once, attempting to push his consciousness into a Direling's mind and the resulting pain paralyzed him for nearly a minute, his brain feeling like it was being shredded from the inside out. It is not something he is eager to repeat.

As he catches his breath, leaning against the cave wall, the boy knows he needs stronger Seals. Ones that allow him to change his environment, to manipulate the physical world around him. To attack the body, not just the mind. The knowledge sits heavy in his chest, a mixture of determination and dread. He knows what he must do, the path that lies ahead. The owlcat, loyal and fierce as it is, can't be expected to do all the defending. He made a promise, after all, and he intends to keep it.

Twilight approaches, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The encroaching darkness brings with it the promise of more dangers, more Direlings emerging from the shadows. But it also offers a moment of relative calm. The boy fights through his bone-deep exhaustion and sits cross-legged on the ground, his back straight despite the protest of his muscles.

He closes his eyes, trying to focus amidst the cacophony of the wild world around him. The rustling of leaves, the distant howls of creatures he'd rather not name, the steady breathing of his unconscious charges – he acknowledges each sound and then lets it fade into the background. His consciousness turns inward, seeking the core of his power and the channels that need cleansing.

The boy knows he must get stronger. The lives of Olisa and Kainene depend on it. With each measured breath, he steels his resolve. He must advance, push beyond his current limitations, and step into a new realm of power. Only at Disciple can he even think of attempting some of the more complex techniques detailed in the Testament.

As night falls, the boy remains motionless, a small figure dwarfed by the vastness of the wilderness and the weight of his responsibility. But within him, a storm is brewing, the seeds of transformation taking root. In this moment of quiet concentration, which each gleaming thread he cleanses free of corruption, the future of a dibia is forged.

***

Reality flickered, a cosmic switch flipped on and then off again with dizzying speed. Olisa and Kainene plummeted through an infinite darkness, their bodies weightless yet heavy with promise. They clung to one another, fingers intertwined, anchoring themselves in the midst of this terrifying yet exhilarating freefall. Their hearts raced in tandem, pulses quickening with each passing second of their descent into the unknown.

The void around them was alive, pulsing with unseen energies that brushed against their skin like ethereal feathers. Time lost all meaning – they could have been falling for seconds or centuries. There was simply no way to tell in this realm beyond the stars.

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the fall ceased. The darkness receded, replaced by a soft, ambient light that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at once. They found themselves hovering in a colossal room, its sheer size defying comprehension, a space vast enough to comfortably house half a dozen towns, with room to spare for their marketplaces and squares.

The walls, floor, and ceiling appeared to be crafted from fired clay, their surface a deep, rich red that spoke of ancient earth and primal forces. An army of Seals and scripts marched across its surface, intricate patterns and symbols flowing like rivers of light, pulsing and shimmering with a thousand colours.

Olisa and Kainene floated in awe, their eyes wide as they tried to take in the sheer magnitude of their surroundings.

The two Firstborn – the Sandking and the Dawnsinger – descended after them, their massive forms somehow fitting comfortably within the enormous chamber. They began to circle Olisa and Kainene, their movements graceful despite their size and in their wake, left trails of pure magic, ribbons of power that twisted and curled in the air like auroras.

"Sound is the element of communication, of harmony, of balance," began the Dawnsinger, her words carrying the weight of cosmic truth. "It is the scaffolding of music, the language of the soul. It is the finish upon the tapestry of reality."

As she spoke, the air around them seemed to vibrate, making the concepts tangible in a way mere words could not convey. The Seals on the walls pulsed in rhythm with her speech, as if the entire chamber was one grand instrument being played by the Firstborn.

"What is the fall of a tree without sound to mark its death?" she continued, and for a moment, Olisa could swear he heard the crash of a mighty oak in a distant forest. "What is the dive of an eagle without sound to mark its passage?" The screech of a raptor echoed through the chamber, though no bird was visible, the sound so real he instinctively looked up, expecting to see wings cutting through the air above.

Suddenly, Olisa felt something reach for his core, an invisible force that was both gentle and irresistible. It seized his channels, the pathways of power within him, and began to stretch them outward. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced – not painful, but intense, as if parts of himself he'd never known existed were being awakened and reshaped.

He took a great gasp of air, the breath feeling like his first true inhalation since entering this realm. His body tingled all over, every nerve ending alight with sensation and with a start, he realised what was happening. These new channels that were being formed, twisting and diving in and out of a radiant, sun-like energy – these were his soul channels. The Dawnsinger was helping him build a connection to them, using the anwansi he had spent the last three days painstakingly packing into his core.

Wonder filled him as he watched the process unfold, felt the power flow through these new pathways. It was like discovering a new limb, a new sense he never knew he possessed. He could feel the energy of his soul, bright and warm, connecting with his physical form in ways he had never imagined possible.

Then, with a finality that felt both abrupt and perfectly timed, it was done. The Dawnsinger finished the process with a single, ringing note that split the air as turquoise flames erupted from the sound, dancing around them in a spectacular display of power and beauty.

***

The boy sits cross-legged on the cold, damp floor of the cave, his back pressed against the rough stone wall and takes a deep breath, the musty air filling his lungs as he focuses on his cultivation.

Anwansi, the magical energy that permeates the world, flows into him like a gentle stream. The boy channels it as quickly as he can, not bothering to store any in his core. Instead, he sends it coursing through his channels, feeling the energy purify and strengthen his body with each pass.

As he works, memories of his Practitioners' training flash through his mind. The endless drills, the gruelling physical exercises, the countless hours spent meditating – all of it had been brutal and relentless. Now he sees its benefits. Most of his lower channels are already clear, the anwansi flowing through them with increasing ease.

He feels the advancement growing imminent, his body preparing to take that crucial leap forward. The sensation is both exhilarating and terrifying – a pressure building within him, like a dam about to burst.

Suddenly, something arrives, pressing itself so intently on his senses that he nearly loses his concentration. The boy's eyes snap open, his heart racing. Beside him, his owlcat soul beast rises to its feet, hackles raised. It lets off a warning growl, low and menacing.

In that moment, the boy understands. Another soul beast approaches – a lionram. Its presence is overwhelming, a peak Practitioner so close to the Ordained rank that it is just a breath away. The realisation hits him like a physical blow: even if he advanced to Disciple right now, he wouldn't stand a chance against such a powerful creature.

But his owlcat doesn't back down. It growls again, louder this time, the sound echoing off the cave walls and the boy starts in surprise as he feels his soul beast's power surge. He watches in awe as it races past Adept, past Disciple, until it stops, matching the lionram's strength exactly.

There is no time to wonder at this miraculous development. The owlcat launches itself at the lionram, and the two massive beasts tumble outside the cave entrance. They trample the few remaining Direlings – pale, skull-faced monstrosities that had been lingering in the shadows and the night air fills with snarls and the sound of rending flesh as the soul beasts collide, then break apart. Claws flash and the owlcat's talons take off a chunk of the lionram's flesh, drawing a pained roar from the beast. In retaliation, the lionram's horns gouge out one of the owlcat's eyes.

Desperate to gain an advantage, the owlcat takes flight, its wings stirring up dust and debris. It circles once, then dives, talons extended. But the lionram is ready. Like lightning, it snatches the owlcat's wing and slams its foe viciously on the ground.

The boy hears the sickening crack of bone as his soul beast's forelimb and jaw break. He screams along with the owlcat, feeling its pain as if it were his own and pushes himself harder.

Come on, he snarls to himself. Give!

The lionram roars its victory, the sound shaking the very earth. It lowers its head, fangs bared, ready to deliver the killing blow. And in that moment, the boy feels a surge of defiance. He won't let it end like this. Not again.

And with one final cycle of anwansi through his channels, he triggers his advancement. The explosion of magical energy that follows is enough to momentarily distract the lionram. The boy is already moving, his fingers tracing a complex pattern in the air as he calls upon one of the most advanced techniques he knows.

"Invasion!" he screams, his voice raw with desperation. A glowing Seal blossoms to life before him, its intricate design pulsing with power. The boy throws his consciousness forward, slipping into the lionram's mind.

Immediately, he can tell he is not powerful enough to fully utilise this technique, especially not against a beast this strong. Already he can feel his hold slipping, the lionram's fierce will pushing back against his intrusion.

In a last, desperate gambit, the boy gives one simple command, pouring every ounce of his remaining strength into it. SMASH!

The lionram resists, fighting the technique with all its might. But the boy's will won't break. His core drains completely as he gives another mental shove, his entire being focused on this single command.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the soul beast obeys. With a bellow of confused rage, the lionram shudders then hurls its head towards the ground as hard as it can.

***

The Sandking's voice rumbled through the chamber, a sound like shifting dunes and crackling flames. His presence filled the space, commanding attention as he took the place of the Dawnsinger.

"The desert is the domain of earth and flame, the domain of negation," he intoned, his words carrying the weight of eons. "In its presence, earth becomes the anwansi of purity, flame the anwansi of clarity." As he spoke, the air shimmered with heat, and for a moment, Olisa and Kainene could almost taste sand on their tongues, feel the scorching sun on their skin.

The Sandking continued, his voice growing more intense. "As with all domains with multiple aspects, the desert has its fusions, points at which these truths bond to form new ones." His eyes, like molten gold, fixed upon Kainene. "Yours is the rarest of my three. Glass, the fusion of reflection. Brittle, yet hard. Fragile yet devastating."

As the last word left his lips, Kainene gasped, her body arching as if struck by lightning. She went through the same process Olisa had just experienced, her channels being remade, connected to something far greater than herself. Her body blazed with orange and brown light, the colors of earth and flame intertwining in a spectacular display. The soulmark on her neck, usually a subtle presence, now shone with a furious light, pulsing in rhythm with her racing heart, then grew and expanded until they covered much of her shoulders as well.

Olisa could not look away, mesmerised by the transformation taking place before him. The power radiating from Kainene was palpable, a tangible force that made the air around her shimmer and dance. He wondered, with a mix of awe and curiosity, if the same thing had happened to him during his own transformation.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was done. Kainene's body relaxed, the intense light fading to a soft glow that seemed to emanate from within her. She turned to Olisa with wide eyes, and he was struck by the change in them. The familiar orange was now joined by bursts of healthy brown specks, like flecks of amber caught in sunlight.

"Olisa, your eyes," she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. "And your hair." With a gesture that seemed both natural and impossible, she conjured a sheet of mirrored glass, holding it up for him to see.

Olisa leaned forward, studying his reflection with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. The silver in his hair was still there, a constant reminder of his unique heritage. But the pale blue that had once streaked through it was gone, replaced by a brilliant, searing turquoise that seemed to glow with an inner light. His eyes, too, had changed, the same vibrant turquoise now swirling within them, giving him an otherworldly appearance.

"You're beautiful," Kainene said softly, her eyes roaming over his transformed features with undisguised admiration.

Olisa had to agree, though the word seemed inadequate to describe the changes they had both undergone. "So are you," he replied, his voice equally soft. He reached out, running an admiring hand over the orange highlights that now streaked through her brown braids. The colors intertwined like the very essence of the desert itself, earth and flame in perfect harmony.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, the enormity of what they had experienced, the bond they shared, overwhelmed them. Their lips met in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a celebration of their transformation and a reaffirmation of their connection. Time seemed to stand still as they held each other, lost in the moment.

It was only when Olisa reluctantly pulled away that he remembered where they were and who their audience was. They broke apart shyly, suddenly very aware of the presence of the two Firstborn who had watched their intimate moment with unmistakable amusement. The Dawnsinger's eyes twinkled with mirth, while the Sandking's usual stoic demeanor had softened into something almost paternal.

They nodded their thanks and then they were flying backwards, rocketing towards their bodies and the boy they had left to guard them.

***

The yelling snapped their eyes open, consciousness rushing back like a tidal wave. Kainene leapt to her feet, her body tensing as she scanned for threats, Olisa half a step behind her. The cave air felt thick with tension, the dim light from the entrance casting long shadows. But there was no immediate danger, save for Somadina who was shaking their shoulders, wild things bursting forth from his mouth.

"You're awake! Thank the gods!" Somadina’s voice cracked with desperation, eyes wide and bloodshot. "What kept you? What took you so long?"

Long? What is he talking about? Kainene's mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening.

She finally got a good look at Somadina, and her heart sank. His shoulders were slumped, clothes rumpled and stained. There was a dull gleam to his eyes that she didn't like, a far cry from his usual vibrant gaze. She frowned, concern etching itself across her features.

"How long were we out?" The question came out softer than intended, as if she was afraid of the answer.

"Six days!" Somadina exclaimed, running a trembling hand over his now wild hair. The words hit like a physical blow. "At first I did nothing because you said advancement takes time. But when the second day passed and you... I didn't know what to do! Nothing I tried would wake you and I thought... I thought you were going to die and I'd be alone again."

The raw emotion in his voice made Kainene's throat tighten. She glanced at Olisa, seeing her own concern mirrored in his eyes.

Olisa spoke up, his voice gentle but laced with worry. "Somadina... When was the last time you slept?"

Somadina frowned, then rubbed his eyes weakly. The action seemed to take more effort than it should. "I don't know. The day before yesterday? I must have dozed off a bit while cultivating because I remember the lionram's roar waking me up."

Lionram? The word jolted Kainene fully awake. She looked around, taking in their surroundings for the first time. Somadina must have moved them because they were at the mouth of the cave, looking over the grounds of the hillside. The view that greeted her took her breath away.

Indeed, a giant spirit beast was sprawled a little way beyond their cave. Its great, spiralling horns lay in pieces all around, glinting in the sunlight. Its head bore serious cracks in places, almost as if it had tried to bash its head open. As Olisa and Kainene's gazes swept across the landscape, they felt their jaws drop in shock. Surrounding them were dozens of Direling corpses, their still-solid forms an indicator of just how recently they had fallen. The ground was scarred with signs of battle – scorched earth, deep gouges in the soil, and splashes of thick, red blood.

Kainene stared at the Direlings, then at the battered lionram, and finally back at Somadina. She felt a bubble of emotion rise in her throat, threatening to overwhelm her.

"You protected us," Olisa whispered, his voice filled with awe and gratitude.

Somadina blinked at that, as if the idea that he wouldn't have done so was incomprehensible. "Yeah. I promised I would, didn't I? But Rai did most of the work. Especially with the lionram." He swept an arm in the direction of the currently massive owlcat, almost as large as a tree was tall, asleep by the spring.

Kainene followed his gesture, taking in the scene. One of three palm trees was knocked over, the signs of a vicious fight evident in the torn earth and scattered debris. The other two bore large scratch marks halfway up their trunks, a testament to the ferocity of the battle that had taken place.

"She's okay though," Somadina went on, his words tumbling out in a rush. "She mainly got hurt protecting me when I hit Disciple. That's when the lionram attacked. She broke... broke some things from that but I've healed most of it. And yeah, I can heal now." He laughed weakly, the sound more like a sob. He made visible a small, tight knot of a Seal. "Creator's Touch. Guess having nothing to do but fight off monsters and cultivate has its benefits."

The casual way he spoke of his ordeal made Kainene's heart ache. She could see the toll it had taken on him, in the dark circles under his eyes and the slight tremor in his hands. Wordlessly, she gathered the shaking Disciple into her arms, feeling him sag against her as if all his strength had finally given out.

She sighed with relief when Olisa's arms wrapped around them both, completing their circle. The warmth of their embrace seemed to push back the chill of the cave, a physical manifestation of their bond.

There were so many things Kainene wanted to say. How incredibly brave she thought he'd been. How nobody other than Olisa had ever done such a thing for her. The words were there, fighting to get out, a tangle of emotions she could barely comprehend. But in the end, the only thing that escaped was a simple, heartfelt:

"Thank you, Somadina."

Olisa hummed in agreement, the sound reverberating through their connected bodies. They stayed like that, arms wrapped around each other, as the sun continued its journey across the sky and, finally, Somadina's breathing evened out in a soft, peaceful sleep.