Outside the Dreadnought’s walls, the sandstorms raged. Scouring sands battered the ivory hull, seeking to strip exposed flesh from bone. Yet for all their divine fury, they found no purchase of the dragonbone. No flesh to strip. Cloth blankets covered the narrow arrowslits, allowing not even the smallest grain inside.

Long had the grand murder departed, fleeing the wrath of sand, the slowest of them torn asunder.

The wounded adventurers huddled within their sanctuary of bone, tending to the damage dealt by the swarming flock.

Autumn carefully examined Liddie’s eye in the soft lantern light. A trio of scratches lined the pirate’s orange orb. She hissed as Autumn pulled back her eyelid to get a better look.

“Stop whining, you big baby,” Autumn rebuked her. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Yeah, on my eye!” Liddie shot back. She’d been understandably upset at having been blinded by an unlucky strike. “Tell it to me straight — am I still pretty?” she joked.

Autumn raised an eyebrow at her. “Still? You were pretty before?”

“Ouch!” Liddie laughed. “You wound me! Shouldn’t healers have good bedside manners?”

“I left mine behind with the rest of our gear,” Autumn snarked. “Now hold still and let me concentrate.”

Ignoring Liddie’s restrained chuckles, she let her magic flow into the grim wound.

Inferni eyes were strange, Autumn concluded after a moment of inspection. Rather than possessing an iris and pupil, they instead had a thin membrane beneath their cornea that filtered the light for them, reflecting any excess as a soft glow. Likely an adaptation to aid them when they’d lived in the burning hells. Within the eye, they had a larger lens than a human’s and far more rods and cones to receive light. Likely this was to compensate for the filtered vision. Naturally, this meant they could see more in lower light conditions.

Thankfully for Autumn’s burgeoning ophthalmology, she still had another, healthier eye to compare the wounded one with. Using it as reference, the witch slowly worked the cuts back together.

Liddie grit her teeth as the magic crawled across her eyeball like a thousand ants.

When the cuts were as healed as Autumn could reasonably make them, she held out a hand to Pyre beside her. “Potion, please,” she asked, and received a small gauze cloth that’d been dipped in a minor healing potion. Holding it above Liddie’s eye, Autumn dripped a drop onto it.

“Blink for me,” Autumn instructed Liddie.

The pirate did so, letting the magical potion wash over her eye.

While Autumn didn’t want to risk anything she might’ve missed, she couldn’t justify using more than a drop of their meager supply. Still, it should be enough to bring Liddie’s vision back to a hundred percent.

“How’s it looking?” Autumn asked. “Any spots?”

Covering one eye, Liddie blinked a few times before switching to the other and doing the same. “No. None that I can see.”

“Looks like you don’t need to pick out an eyepatch just yet,” Pyre snarked. “Pity, it might’ve improved your looks.”

Liddie smirked at Pyre. “What? Like it did you?”

Pyre snarled, her green scars wrinkling. She tossed an unmistakingly rude gesture towards Liddie. “How about you go fuck yourself.”

“Aright, enough!” Autumn snapped. Standing up, she brushed the grains of sand off her pants. “If you two are going to snipe at one another, do it without me in the middle.”

“Don’t be like that, love,” Liddie chirped, slinging an arm around Pyre’s shoulder. The younger girl tried unsuccessfully to shrug her off. “We were only joking around.”

Autumn rolled her eyes. “Whatever, I’m going to check on the others. Don’t kill each other while I’m gone. Or if you do, I’ll turn you into a zombie or something.”

Saying so, she walked away, heading towards the front.

Behind her, she heard Liddie laugh nervously. “She’s joking, right? She won’t actually do that…Hey, Autumn, you won’t turn me into a zombie, right? Autumn? And she’s ignoring us.”

“Ignoring you, maybe,” Pyre said. “Get your arm off me!”

Liddie squawked. “Ahh! You elbowed me in the gills, you bitch!”

“Ew! Gross!”

Autumn heaved a sigh as the bickering continued on behind her. Looking over the others, she saw that while they all were mildly battered and bruised, nobody else was as injured as Liddie had been. Stepping over the piles of broken crow bodies and puddles of blood slowly soaking into the leather, she nodded to both Nelva and Edwyn before stopping beside a napping Eme.

The catgirl was softly snoring as she leaned against the hide-clad walls. She stank of sweat, vomit, and blood. Luckily, only two of the three were her own.

When Autumn gently nudged her, she snapped awake in an instant, heart pounding and tail bushy. Upon seeing it was just Autumn who’d woken her, she calmed.

“Oh, hi. You need something?” she asked with a yawn.

“Just checking up on you,” Autumn replied. “How are you doing?”

Eme shrugged. “A bit tired after all that fighting. That was crazy, right? Tell me I’m not the only one freaking out right now,” she almost begged.

Autumn shook her head. “You’re not the only one — I wasn’t expecting so many of them to be there. It looked so deserted from the outside. I was so sure they’d sent most of their forces up north and we could just sneak past the few down here,” she said, sighing. “Guess I was wrong.”

“Maybe you weren’t.”

“How so?” Autumn asked curiously. A gust of wind rocked the wagon, forcing her to steady herself on the leather-lined wall. She grimaced as her hand came away wet.

Eme bit her lip as she contemplated. “Maybe…maybe you weren’t wrong and they did send the majority of their forces up north and what we faced was the reserve.”

Autumn paled. “Shit. I mean, I saw the fighting up north with Liddie, but still, we killed a lot of goblins. How many times larger is the main force if that was what they could spare to defend the least valuable fort?”

The pair descended into a grim silence.

Beside them, the cloth blankets covering the arrowslits snapped and undulated loudly as the wind battered them. Looking over the hasty additions, Autumn sighed — another thing to add to her to-do list. With that and the seatbelts, she was starting to think she missed a lot.

“Uh, Autumn? Can I ask you something?” Eme asked quietly, interrupting Autumn’s thoughts.

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Autumn blinked, looking back to the nervous catgirl. “Sure? What’s up?”

Eme furrowed her brows for a moment before speaking. “I, uh, wanted to know how you did that. How you killed all the birds around us by screaming. It…it sounded so strange. The…music didn’t like it,” the bard gestured around at sounds only she could hear.

At her question, Autumn blushed in mortification and looked away. Piles of crows glared back at her accusingly with their dead beady, red eyes.

Autumn hadn’t exactly intended to unleash such a scream of fright upon them. She’d done it instinctively. Honestly, she was beyond mortified for having done it — it felt like the magical equivalent of wetting herself.

Coughing slightly to cover her blush, Autumn replied to Eme’s curious gaze. “I, uh, don’t know. It just happened. I didn’t know what to do. There were so many of them,” she shuddered, remembering the sharp beaks seeking her eyes. Remembered their bones crunching and hearts stilling in her grasp. “I just…filled my voice with fear and screamed.”

“It kinda sounded like a banshee’s wail,” Eme shivered, her ears flattening to her skull.

“Did it?” Autumn shook her head. “Maybe I was inspired? Thankfully, it wasn’t as powerful as a real one or we’d all be dead.” She shivered, and it wasn’t because of the cold — against her breast, the soulcage thrummed in prideful agreement. “Birds just have weaker hearts, I guess. It only took a miniscule thread of fear to stop them.”

“Yeah.” Eme shuddered. “Looks like I now know what your spells feel like, huh.”

Autumn’s heart felt like ice in her chest. All she could say was, “I’m sorry.”

Eme hurriedly waved off Autumn’s words, mustering up a cheerful smile. “No, you don’t need to apologize. You saved us. Besides, I should’ve trained with you before and learnt how to deal with it. It’s my fault, if anyone's.”

Autumn didn’t know what to say to that.

“Um, I should check up on Nethlia and make sure we’re not lost or anything. Can you clean up all these birds?” Autumn asked, nudging one aside with her foot.

Eme perked up, her tail quivering with excitement. “Oh! Are we going to eat them? I can make my famous bird pie! You haven’t had bird pie until you’ve had mine!”

“Famous?”

“Well,” Eme drawled slyly, “famous in my family, at least. Me and my siblings used to hunt birds all the time when we were younger. We’d compete to see who was the best cook. I always won!” the catgirl preened.

Autumn giggled, unable to resist Eme’s infectious enthusiasm. “Alright, alright. We’ll see about cooking something once we find somewhere to camp.”

“It’s a deal!” Eme crowed, amusingly enough. “You just wait!”

Autumn quickly covered her grin with her hand as she let out another quiet giggle. Turning around, she left Eme to collect the dead birds and made her way into the driver’s compartment.

Blood, sand, and broken feathers littered the floor within. Picking her way over the carpet of gore, Autumn shielded her eyes from the harsh sands blowing in through the window. While the lip she’d made over the outside of the window fended off a majority of the sand, more and more grains tumbled inside as the sandstorm aggressively blasted the Dreadnought.

Brushing guts and torn bodies off her seat, Autumn plopped herself down with a wince. Her tailbone still stung mightily.

Nethlia looked over at Autumn’s entrance. Like the others, the flock of murderous crows had attacked her with a suicidal savagery. Or at least they tried to. The berserker had met them with a savagery of her own. To the bird’s short-lived shock, they’d found little purchase on her thick skin and armored furs. And any that’d gone for her eyes had found themselves crushed or bitten in half.

“Early lunch?” Autumn asked humorously as she gingerly picked up one of the birds that’d fallen afoul of the demoness’ sharp fangs, before tossing it aside.

Nethlia grinned, showing off her canines. “I got peckish up here on my own. That scream before you?”

“Yeah,” Autumn blushed. “Just dealing with our stowaways. It seemed pretty effective. Eme says she’s going to make her famous bird pie.”

“Famous?” Nethlia cocked an eyebrow.

Autumn shrugged. “So she says. She looked pretty excited about it. Gives her something to do, at least,” she said, before turning away to look out the window at the landscape beyond.

There wasn’t much to see — the sandstorms choked the skies with a golden haze. Everything beyond Ursa Ossa was lost in the fury of nature.

Autumn felt bad about her undead bear being out there, struggling to pull the floating fortress that was the Dreadnought through the shifting sands as the wild winds battered them about. While he didn’t have any flesh left to lose, the sands would still be accumulated in his joints and beneath his armored plates. She doubted it was a pleasant experience.

She’d have to do something nice for him later.

Another gust sent them skittering across the dunes. Grumbling, Autumn clung tightly to her seat.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Autumn asked Nethlia, concern lacing her voice. “I can’t see a thing out there.”

Nethlia shook her head, her new helm making the movements more aggressive. “No. I lost the path. We need to find somewhere to hunker down until the sandstorm moves on.”

“Is that a good idea?” Autumn spoke over her. “The hag knows we’re here now. The longer we take, the more time she has to prepare for us.”

“We’ve got no choice,” Nethlia shrugged. She pointed out at the storm raging outside. “We’re not getting through this.” As if to prove her point, the shifting sands gave way beneath Ursa Ossa, sending the undead bear tumbling down. The gusting winds stole away his roar of discontent and frustration. “We need to get out of the winds or we’ll eventually be blown away.”

“Is there even anywhere for us to shelter? A large dune, perhaps?”

“There is,” Nethlia nodded firmly, drawing Autumn’s attention. She pointed out once more, this time vaguely to the east. “I saw a large ruin in the distance when we were rushing towards the desert. I’ve angled us in that direction the best I could. Hopefully, we are still on course. Keep an eye out for it, would you?”

Autumn nodded. “I can do that.”

Scanning the horizon, Autumn sat beside Nethlia for the next few hours as they pressed valiantly through the raging sandstorm. However, they gained little distance for all the time they spent.

Autumn had time to think during their long journey. Her mind kept replaying the hectic violence of before. Of the screams of crows and her own. Her knuckles turned white on the leather. Her heart beat heavier and harder in her chest as sweat dripped down her spine.

Focusing, the dark-eyed witch funneled that anxiety and dread deep into her hat while under her breath she hummed a song from home.

“When the dreamer dies, so does the dream. Turn me inside out, soak me in bleach. Soak me, soak me, soak me in bleach~ I’m buried alive, life buries me. Cover my body, soak me in bleach. Soak me, soak me, soak me in bleach~”

While she didn’t want to be too dramatic, the lyrics spoke to her. As her words echoed out over the dunes, Eme joined in from behind her, providing an accompanying beat and melody.

Unsurprisingly, the catgirl bard was fairly good at it, despite it being a literally otherworldly song.

Just as Autumn was finishing up the song and preparing to sing another, she spotted the ruins they sought briefly through the swirling sandstorm. “Over there!” she yelled, pointing in the direction they vanished once more.

Nethlia pulled on the reins harshly, guiding Ursa Ossa towards where she’d pointed.

As they grew ever closer, the ruins unveiled themselves.

A worn facade of an ancient temple lay carved into a sandstone cliff that emerged from the shifting dunes like a colossal beast breaking through a golden surf. Adornments of gold had long since flaked away, stolen by the violent winds. Only the barest hint of their presence remained on the sandstone carvings. A door, grand beyond grand, loomed larger than life in the dead center of this ruined temple’s face, flanked on either side by twin giant statues whose features time and sand had worn away. Autumn couldn’t even tell what race they’d once depicted other than being humanoid.

Slowly, the Dreadnought brought the party closer to the ruins, until it stood tiny beneath its imposing height.

A wide set of sandstone steps led towards the yawning portal that was the magnificent door. Flowing sands had layered themselves into the steps, turning them into a smooth ramp.

The party had gathered behind Autumn and Nethlia to gaze up at the ancient structure with various expressions of awe.

“Imagine how much treasure is in there,” Liddie broke the silence first, her face flashing with greed. She whistled. “I bet it’s a lot. A lost temple in a lost desert? Gotta be tons of loot.”

“Is treasure all you think about?” Nelva asked disapprovingly. “We’ve no idea how long this temple has been here. It could be filled with all sorts of historical artifacts.”

“Or curses,” Autumn added helpfully.

“Pssh.” Liddie waved them off. “We can handle a few curses or whatever. And historical artifacts make the best loot!”

Nethlia broke in, averting the growing argument. Her hands were tight around the leather reins and face pinched as she stared up at the looming ruins. “We aren’t looking to stay long — just until the sandstorm passes. Come on, let’s get in there and out of the winds. I hear we’re having a famous pie for lunch.”

Eme blushed, sending a pout Autumn’s way. Clearing her throat, she nodded. “Uh, yeah. Yeah! I’ll, uh, make a fruit pie or something for you too Nelva.”

“That is most kind of you,” Nelva dipped her head, smiling.

Gazing up at the darksome entry into the ancient temple, Nethlia let out a sigh before lashing the reins. Slowly, Ursa Ossa led them deep into the temple where no light dwelled and out of the storm. “Once more into the dark, we go. To depths below where treasure awaits,” the demoness whispered an old delver’s mantra. “Where monsters snap, and claw, and bite. Await our return not, for only gods know if we shall emerge once more or slumber in darken graves forevermore. But glory and wealth shall be our prize.”

With that, the dark swallowed them.