Burning Out

[Rayse Valentino]

Closed to Karuka.

Home. The place you belong. It was something Rayse hadn't had in a long time. The chilly morning air was his daily reminder of where he was born back in Knife's Edge, Salvar. The long, cold winters. The chill of snow under his palm, the taste of a beer so icy that it halfway froze him as it ran down his throat. With these sensations lost to him, he felt like he was always in a foreign place. He had a warmth that wouldn't go away, a dazing sensation of heat that followed him wherever he went. No matter what he did, he couldn't just relax and lose himself like he did back in Salvar. He couldn't let go of his worries, his fears, and ultimately he lost sight of his goals in this world.

Back in Salvar, Rayse had three things that he always wanted: Wealth, power, and control. To live his life to the fullest. To ascend to a higher level of existence. To take orders from no one. For the longest time, he only had control.

His determination lead him down a variety of dark paths, and he had no regrets. Then, he found wealth. Not just money, but the true wealth of the security of his lifestyle. He could go anywhere, do anything, and not worry about how to pay for it, or if he had to agree to any stipulations. Finally, he found power. Strength of mind, body, and spirit to move through those that would stand in his way. With all his goals met, there was only one thing to do: Push all three to the limit- become the wealthiest, have the most power, exert the most control. In his pursuit of what could be infinity, he lost what he had started with. Control. The power that brought him new opportunities also brought him consequences.

He didn’t remember how long ago he’d first noticed, but something odd was happening. His body was slowly turning into pure fire. Sometimes his limbs would pass through objects he would try to move, other times he felt his very balance start slipping in the wind. Dying was always a possibility in his line of dangerous work, but he never imagined he could simply fade away. Done in by some sort of magical sickness. After finally gaining all the tools needed to become something great, he was on the verge of losing everything.

So, he sought a cure. Journeying through some of the most desolate regions of Althanas, he searched for his own salvation. It was a daunting task, not only for how little he had to go on, but for the effect it was having on his conscience. What meaning was there to his existence? If he took his wealth beyond the clouds and secured for himself the most exclusive lifestyle of all mankind, what would be left? A feeling of unfettered despair came creeping in, invading his thoughts. When he lived in Knife's Edge, he simply tried to survive, hoping for a better life someday. What could he do now? Eventually, he managed to find a lead.

In the heat-drenched land of Fallien, the sun's glow warmed the yellow sands, the breeze gently pushed the rolling dunes along on their voyages. The unbearable heat prevented any life from flourishing in this wasteland. Rayse was no stranger to harsh lands, if anything it felt like Salvar's frozen tundras. He had first stopped by the grand city of Irrakam, seeking information about runes and his particular situation. All of the news was bittersweet, with most of them thinking Rayse was a doomed man. He did receive one useful reference. A well-known runic sage claimed to have remedied his particular malady.

He found himself in the village of Kesta, just off the Attireyi River, with Irrakam visible in the distance. A border town between the northern deserts and the southern fields of glass, it also boasted some of the most venerable runic scholars in all of Fallien. The trade town was filled with merchants and travelers, often a refuge for those who could not get enough access for Irrakam proper. Tan-colored stone houses with rounded tops littered the uneven sandy paths. Rayse was taking slow steps, looking down with each one, as if he had no trust in his own balance. He entered The Synthesis Shop, a rune-crafting establishment. Being away from Irrakam, some of the more unregulated runes could be found here.

Many crystals leaned against the stone walls on many shelves, reflecting and refracting the light to make the whole place come alive. It was almost brighter inside than it was outside. Also, it seemed to be empty. Rayse took a few steps inside, letting his eyes wander about the room, until he noticed a shuffling sound coming from behind the main counter. He walked up to it.

"Hey, is anyone here?"

[Rayse Valentino]

There came no reply, only the faint sound of shuffling under the counter. Rayse looked around, noticing a shelf with what looked like whetstones to his right. On his left were scrolls, and he briefly wondered if one of them contained the solution to his problems. Further behind the counter was a large white curtain that obscured everything behind it. Growing impatient, he peered over the counter but quickly pulled back when a small, bright wisp flew up from below. It looked like a large firefly, and he could barely make out a small pair of insect-like wings. It floated in the air in front of him and spun around, as if warding him away.

"What the... ?"

The curtains shifted and a more familiar being stepped out, a Fallienese woman with long white hair tied in a weave down her back. Her dark skin gave an eerie cast to her pale blue eyes, and though she walked straight, she used a cane to support her old frame. She wore a long white dress, and had a noticeable rune marking on her left hand. Her right palm was covered in bandages.

"Met my fairy, have we?" she said with no trace of a Fallienese accent. There was no trace of Fallien accent in her voice. "I don't recall having a meeting today. What are you doing here, stranger?"

"Meeting?" Rayse wondered.

"In case you haven't noticed, this is no ordinary rune shop. If you would like, I can direct you to one that can meet your needs."

Rayse shook his head, a twinge of frustration evident in his brow, "No, I was told to come here. I have a problem that only you can solve."

"My my," she laughed. "I'm far too old for that, dear." Rayse slammed his fist on the table, and the shopkeeper's smile turned into a suspicious frown.

"Look!" Rayse pulled up his right sleeve and revealed his rune of fire. "How do I get rid of this?!"

"What's this... ?" Rayse explained how he mistook runic ink for tattoo ink, and applied it to his upper arm with a design that he found with the ink. He told of the toll it had on his body. "I see. That is unfortunate."

“How do I get rid of this?” Rayse repeated, the words barely escaping from his clenched teeth.

The shopkeeper sighed, "There's nothing I can do, dear."

"What?!" Rayse yelled, causing the fairy to fly up to the ceiling and swirl around in the air. "Was I lied to? I was told that you helped someone who applied a rune the wrong way!"

"Hmm, I suppose I did." Something snapped within Rayse. His growing rage manifested into flames, erupting from his body like a volcano. The fire grew from his body like a candle, but the event was short-lived. The shopkeeper lifted her right hand and the rune on it started to glow, causing Rayse to lose his balance and fall backwards onto the floor. He felt something holding him down, as if his body suddenly weighed tenfold. The stone floor creaked under him, his vision blurred. "I have little patience for men like you, dear. This is not a hospital, and I am not a healer. Whether or not you perish is entirely up to you." Rayse's rage continued to boil, and he struggled to lift his body, raising his head a few inches before it crashed back down onto the ground. "However, it may be possible to live. Your body has fused with the element of fire, and left untreated you will lose the very foundation of your being. You can not undo this process, but you can stall it."

The effect of her Rune of Force subsided, and with heavy breaths Rayse picked himself back up, his flames retreating back into his body. "What... what do you mean?"

"Between this land and the Zaileya, in the desert there is an ancient ruin. The land there is perilous, and few who venture out ever return. In it, there is a special material that is used to make 'Rune Vulniss.' This is a special rune-dampening agent that will affect your body as well as the rune. If you bring me the herb that produces the primary reagent, I can create it." She gave him an esoteric description of the herb, from which the only comprehensible detail he could gather was that it was bright purple in color.

"That will stop... this?"

"There are no guarantees. Whether or not it works is up to you."

[Karuka]

Fallien. Wild, wrathful, unforgiving Fallien. To walk these sands prepared was to flirt with death. To walk them unprepared was to invite it. The desert gleamed red and gold beneath the merciless heat of the midday sun, not unlike the girl who walked through Kesta's streets.

The first time Karuka had visited the harsh, xenophobic nation, luck alone had paired her with experienced traveler Storm Veritas. Without him taking her on, she would have walked into the wilderness - the beautiful expanse of treacherous sand that screamed its fearsome rage but only whispered its meager bounty. She would never have walked out.

Fallien, unlike any other environment the young woman had ever known, would not always provide. Even brutal Berevar offered food and shelter to those canny enough to survive it.

Having recently laid Hex Ghoul Seth Dahlios to his final rest, Karuka was back in Fallien to learn about a different creature she was responsible for - the ball of ruddy down and golden pinfeathers that sat contentedly on her left shoulder. Taodoine's egg had originated in Fallien, and the redhead knew that a raptor needed more than food and love to become a fully-fledged phoenix. She needed the desert to teach her how to care for its iconic bird. For that, she needed a way to sleep out in the barren wilds without having to worry about what might be coming. The heat of day alone would not shield her from some of the desert's creatures.

Voices sounded from within the shop she needed, a man whose anger was born more from desperation than anything else and an old woman who had no tolerance for youthful brashness.

Karuka pushed open the door when the conversation lulled, into the cool offered by the clay walls and their accompanying shade. She was greeted by the baleful glare of the woman and a fairy whizzing down to shoo her off. Instead, she held out a hand to give the tiny fae a place to stand. "Cen chaoi a bhuil tu, bhean bheag de na siochana?"

The creature turned to the shopkeep with a perplexed shrug, perching on the amber palm. That wasn't a standard greeting, but it was polite. The girl nodded her head respectfully to the elderly woman. "Seanmhathair." She ended with a slight nod of acknowledgment to the man.

Thin lips pursed a little, but the old woman nodded and accepted it. "I've told this one what he needs. What about you, girl?"

"I need a rune of protection," Karuka explained in her mild, rolling accent. "I'm headed into the desert at sunset, for quite a while perhaps. I'd rather not have to worry about a karuku-tal or worse coming for me in my sleep."

"You'd have done better in Irrakam," the white-haired crone told her, scanning vaguely over her wares. "That isn't the sort of thing I sell."

Pomegranate lips twisted into a slight frown. "Hm. Irrakam isn't on my way. Guess I'll just have to listen carefully."

"If you're looking for phoenixes, he's going your way." Eyes blue as ice indicated the shop's other inhabitant.

Karuka looked at the man again - hair and eyes the color of coal, skin the beaten tan of the native peoples of northern Salvar. A man with fire roiling just beneath his surface. "Seanmathair, I've seen men with what he's got. My tribe calls it Doiteain as Cothromaicht - a fire user without center, and so consumed by his own flames. It takes 'em all in the end, and near anyone foolish enough to try helping them. Surely you're not suggesting that I walk with a Cothromaicht?"

The old woman smiled, though it was not a friendly expression. "If you can't handle the dark flame, how can you expect to raise up the bright one, child? And can you, leanbh de danaan coigriche, walk away knowing that the desert will kill this man if he goes alone?"

Sharp blue eyes narrowed at the crone, but Karuka's glare was met only by a smug smirk. Child of foreign gods. How had she known that? That exact phrase... how had the old witch known?

[Rayse Valentino]

Rayse was embittered at the prospect of being imposed upon someone else, like an orphaned cat. He looked at the newcomer, but his eyes drifted over to meet the blue gaze of the golden bird. He felt a peculiar affinity with it, his body responding to the sensation with flames running freely up and down his frame. Karuka was still fixated on the shopkeeper and her cryptic words with jaw set, fists clenched, and body taut as a bowstring.

The shopkeeper merely smiled. "My memory is not what it used to be, but I will prepare a map of the area while you two sort this out."

"Hoigh!" Karuka yelled, but the old woman ignored her and disappeared behind the curtains. She was left in the room with the doomed man, on whom she now grudgingly focused her attention.

Rayse brushed off some of the dust on his clothes from the earlier incident. "I needed a guide anyway, so how about it?"

Karuka frowned. "I could guide you faster and surer than any map, any compass, any native, any where. But I just got free of one damned man. I don’t need to follow it up with another.”

Rayse brought a hand up to his forehead and tapped it. "I can pay very well."

Karuka scoffed. “All the riches in the world will do you no good out in the sands. Your money is of no value to me.”

The contractor shook his head, his hands shaking with the effort it took to contain his rage, "Look, I don't know what this Cothro-whatever thing is, but it's not me." He showed her the tattoo on his shoulder. "It's a mis-placed Fallien rune."

Karuka tilted her head. "Fallien rune?" The Elder Futhark, the runes of her people, unlocked the potential of the user. They didn’t work for those who had no talent; the ability had to be present, the faith had to be strong. Fallinese runes worked on a different principle, one with the magic bound into them rather than pulled from the caster.

This man claimed the latter, claimed the power had been accidentally thrust upon him. But he felt like the former, like someone being eaten from within by powers he could not control. She did not understand. "Give me your hand." Rayse opened his mouth to say something but Karuka stopped him cold with a hard look into his eyes.

Rayse grit his teeth and held out his hand, which Karuka interlinked with one of hers. The pale blue at the edges of her irises flooded inward, nearly drowning out the blazing sky blue that normally colored her eyes. Images flashed before her in a confusing barrage, each new flicker of a vision hitting her like a sledgehammer between the eyes. Screams and burning, wailing, weeping, and roiling hatred. Smoke and ash. A human heart on fire.

She pulled away from him with a grunt, putting a hand to her forehead in a futile attempt to drive back the agony her visions brought and leaning heavily on her spear. “You might have done something to bring this on yourself, or bring it faster. But you are a Cothromaicht.”

"What the f-" Rayse stopped himself. It occurred that she was espousing a concept that was unfamiliar to him. Maybe there was more to his condition than he originally thought, but how much did this woman know? "What is that?"

Karuka straightened up, a bit more alert than before. "It is imbalance, both in life and in magic. Even without the magic, you... you would have been consumed by flames anyway." The vision was vague, but still she felt that this was a man destined for ruin.

Rayse had enough of this cryptic bullshit, of people he just met passing judgement on him. "Listen you b-" Rayse was interrupted by the feeling of weightlessness in his right leg. He lost his balance and tumbled downward on one knee, his other leg nothing but a fiery stub. After a moment, it reappeared and he got back up, shoulders held stiffly and jaw locked in shame.

Karuka looked at him without shock or pity. “Faster and faster now, isn’t it? Worse and worse, almost by the minute? At first it was just a little, so subtle you thought that you must have just not reached far enough for a thing you were trying to hold, or that you must have stepped in a little hole you didn’t see. Now you’re held together by not much more than a little bit of luck. When the flames spread from body to head, you'll be dead."

The little bird on her shoulder had also observed Rayse partially bursting into flames. With a glint in his eye he jumped into the air before Karuka could stop him, flapping little unfledged wings and extending his little talons to land on the dark man’s shoulder. Flames that randomly grew from Rayse's body licked at the legendary bird, but he fluffed and shook, playing in them like an ordinary bird would play in the bathwater.

Rayse was more surprised than anything; the fact that it liked fire fit only one description of a bird he knew. "This is a phoenix..."

With the Cothromaicht’s attention directed out of anger and towards wonder, Karuka drove the second knuckles of the first two fingers of her right hand hard into his sternum and twisted. When he turned, rage starting to boil in him in response to the pain, her eyes locked with his again, nearly more gold than blue. The gaze held him fast, silencing his voice and stilling his momentum. Her glare grabbed the rage in his blood and put it to rest like a mother might do to a temperamental toddler.

Rayse felt his flames die down, his body returning to a state he hadn't seen in weeks. "What the?! You... what did you do? I feel almost... "

Karuka took her bird back, giving him a stern look and returning him to her own shoulder. “I reminded your body where its center is. This is temporary; you’ve a tenday, maybe a fortnight left. Unless you find the herb you seek and it works, and unless you can find the center of your soul, there is little more that I can do for you.”

Rayse bit his lip, now realizing that she could do more than guide him, she could make him feel normal. Whatever she had done hadn’t seemed so hard; maybe she could keep doing it. Keep him going. The only thing holding him back now was his pride. His entire life, he avoided entering into someone's debt. In Knife's Edge, a debt was a disease that was seldom cured. But he had no choice.

"I'm Rayse," he said. "I n, n, need your help. Please." Karuka looked unconvinced. Just a moment ago he looked like he was going to hit her. "Maybe you're right. Maybe the road I was heading down only lead to ruin, but it was the only one I've ever walked. You are the only one who can help me now. I am at your mercy." He lowered his head in a bow.

Karuka looked at the dark hair that faced her; the man’s pride was a king’s pride, the pride of a man who never had to kneel or ask when he could simply buy, command or threaten. But he had shown her his anger and she had not flinched, had offered her his wealth and she had spurned it, and she was not his to command. Fear and desperation were the only things bringing this humility… but perhaps if he could learn humility, he could learn balance. Perhaps his fate could be averted. Could she save this man?

The shuffling of the shopkeeper's return made her decide. “I’ll walk with you.” Rayse lifted his head as she continued to speak, his expressionless face hiding the satisfaction of a gambit paid off. But below that, although he would never admit it, relief washed over his body like a panacea. “Meet me at the eastern gate at dusk. Bring as much water as you can comfortably carry, a broad cloak, a weapon, and some food. Wear clothing that breathes and a head covering. Anything you do not absolutely need, leave behind.” She looked at the older woman. “If he dies, it’s on his hands, not mine. The desert has no mercy.”

The redhead turned and left the shop, with the old woman smiling slyly at her back.

[Karuka]

The last rays of the dying sun painted dunes and sky vivid orange. Rayse, clad in a bright blue outfit of the fabric and style favored by the desert travelers, walked away from the burning light and toward the small hovels that marked the border between civilization and sand. It wasn't much of a gate, really.

His guide was waiting for him, recognizable despite the wrapping around her head by the phoenix on her shoulder and the spear in her hand. She was wearing a tan outfit similar to his, and looked him over when he reached her, pulling down the mask designed to keep sand out of her nose and mouth. “Karuka O’Sheean, by the way. The wee bit is Taodoine. You probably want to know who you’re traveling with, and I wasn't about to give my name around the shop's faerie.” A wry grin pulled at the corners of her mouth, either in a jest she’d pulled off very badly or in a sour truth she was privy to but not sharing. She tilted her chin and stepped decisively into the rapidly cooling wilds.

Rayse kept pace with the dark-skinned redhead, shifting his travel bag to sit more comfortably on his shoulder. In it were a couple days' worth of rations, a few canteens of water, and a couple canteens of something far more special. Cigarettes lined his pockets - an absolute essential if he was going to endure anything else. Karuka was burdened by more water than he was - a trio of bulging water skins were slung across her back, but she still walked quickly, purposefully. He could respect that. “You said something about imbalance causing my condition.” He stuck a cigarette in his mouth, watching her carefully in the bright light of the waning moon. The woman's shoulders had relaxed almost immediately after the murmur of town was out of their earshot, and her sudden comfort had not escaped the contractor's observance. “What do you mean?”

Karuka bit her lip, mulling over her response. How could she explain what a Doiteain as Cothromaicht was when she didn't even know whether or how he understood magic? The matter seemed so simple to her, but it was simple because it was layered in teachings she’d received from the time she was still learning how to walk. This was something she knew like she knew she had to breathe air. What would a bird say to a fish, if it had to describe how to breathe? What would the fish, that had to breathe water, say to the bird?

“Were you raised in a magical tradition?” She could find out just how basically she had to begin. Maybe she would at least have a foundation to work with.

“Many Salvarans have innate magical abilities,” Rayse told the woman, trying to give her context with his answer. “The wizards in Knife’s Edge kept the place habitable even in the cruelest of winters, for example, and many of the wizards at Beinost come from my country. But for the most part, magic is seen as witchcraft, particularly where I grew up.”

“Feared and misunderstood. That explains you, then. If this is truly something imbued upon you, rather than something that unlocked power already within you, it was probably the worst of the elements for you.” Since he had a little knowledge, at least this would be more like explaining to a lungfish why air was better to breathe than water.

Rayse's jaw set briefly, and he forcefully bit back the harsh demand that nearly shot its way out of his lips. He needed to keep her on his side; she was traveling with him voluntarily and thus could leave at any time, taking all chances of his survival with her. “What's that?”

“There are something like fifty elements of magic. The most familiar to the average person are fire, water, earth and air. They make a lot of sense, these elements, because we can touch them, smell them, taste them, interact with them. They are part of the same world we are. We don’t have to be sensitive to the others - life, death, time, dream, spirit, light, dark, and so on - to understand these basic four. What’s important is that some people experience some elements more strongly than they do others.”

Karuka pulled her head covering back, freeing her dark red hair to dance in the little drifts of wind. “Each element grants certain traits when it’s in balance and has consequences when it’s out of balance. Those who identify with air, for example, are brilliantly smart and remarkably far-seeing, in balance. There are things they just understand that come to them on the wind. They're also incredibly generous and compassionate. Out of balance, they have the same understandings and insights, but they're flighty; they can’t pay attention to anything long enough to make use of their gift. So they get frustrated. Water grants patience and cleansing abilities, and those who identify with it are some of the best healers in the world. They are absolutely insurmountable, because water always finds its path. Out of balance, they are whiny, moody, and miserable.”

She paused for a breath of the sweet air, but before Rayse could ask what any of this had to do with him, she continued speaking. “Earth, when it’s in balance, grants stability and sensitivity. To those who can listen, it speaks volumes. Earth is one of the elements I identify with most strongly. I can hear the desert scream in all its wild fury. ‘Dare cross me!’ It challenges. ‘I will eat you and leave your bones for the vultures.’ It is untamed, full of rage. It howls, it sings. But it also whispers.”

A lightning quick movement pulled a small dagger from her belt and flung it into the sand not far ahead of them, and when she pulled it up, there was the corpse of a little lizard that Taodoine was only too eager to suck down into his greedy gullet. “There is life here. It’s too loud for the sands to be utterly barren. In my native tongue, this sort of hearing is called Tenalach.”

His guide could hear the desert tell her about vermin under the sand in the dark. That was unusual and slightly disgusting. It was still of no use to Rayse. “What about fire, and why is it the worst thing for me?”

Blue eyes glowed white under the pale desert moon, looking into the bottomless black pits that scrutinized her. “In balance, fire brings light and warmth to the dark and cold, carving out a space for people where there is none. Fire is alive, passionate. It drives forward, it explores, it consumes because it wants to see everything. Out of balance, fire must have, and in having, it destroys. Its greed is never sated, not until it burns itself out. Doiteain as Cothromaicht is the extreme of that, where the fire in the user’s soul comes to claim his body. You've spent your life ambitious to the point of forsaking anything else, haven’t you? Wanting more, wanting better. Never able, not for a moment, to think that there might be other important things in the world.”

“Like what?” Rayse blinked at the smirk on Karuka's face. “Whatever. Let’s just go get the whole curse lifted.”

The redhead frowned, sand crunching beneath her bare feet as she stopped. “Curse? It's a gift! Not the part where you’re literally burning away into nothing, but the fire itself. Fire can be the most destructive of the four common elements, yes. But it’s also the most life-affirming of them. Give me your hand.”

The contractor bit his lower lip, holding up his hand for a second, then pulling it back away. It was only after a moment of apprehensive hesitation that he finally extended his arm, complying with her request. She took his hand in both of hers, gently probing, manipulating, coaxing something out that she’d only put to rest hours before. This time it glowed softly, little flickering flames that didn't threaten to pull his hand out of existence. They still drew the little phoenix to nuzzle him while his master rolled up her sleeve, took a clean dagger, and opened up a cut on her forearm. Blood welled up, but the redhead showed no pain, merely wiping off her weapon, returning it to its sheath, and then putting Rayse’s barely-calloused hand over the wound.

The reek of burning blood filled the air between them and the woman hissed through her teeth; this part sent burning jolts up her arm and down into her fingers. When she released him, though, and clenched his hand into a fist to quell the flames, there was neither cut nor burn on her skin. “Don’t ya see? There is so much you can do, if you can find your balance and keep yourself from burning away.”

[Rayse Valentino]

Rayse feigned an interest in her explanation. The topic made Karuka beam with excitement, like sharing a favorite hobby. The contractor was not as thrilled, as magic was still the tool of criminals in his land. Those with power always abused those without, no exceptions. For him, it felt like a crutch, as if he was too weak to accomplish his goals without it. His fears were justified when it began to attack him, his very pride chasing the power out.

She's naive.

It wasn't long before the town disappeared over the horizon. Rayse peered back every few minutes to check, and finally sighed when the last vestiges of civilization were out of sight. Hilly sand dunes stretched out in every direction, a faint beaten path their only guide into the wilderness. Rayse had the map out and stared at it, noting a few landmarks they were likely to see, mostly ruins and... spots merely marked with Fallinese text he did not understand.

Karuka watched Rayse, noting the desperate probing of his eyes on the map and the frustrated twitches of his lips when he came across symbols on it that held no more meaning to him than the pattern of raindrops on cobblestone.

"Can you read this?" he asked, holding the parchment out to her.

"Not even a little," she answered flippantly, throwing a glance at him over her shoulder.

Rayse stopped in his tracks, eyes peering suspiciously at the tall woman from above his mask. "Wait, you're not from around here?"

"I'm not even from Althanas." She turned around and gave him a cheeky grin. "But I was part of this desert once. I know where I'm going. Stop worrying. If I was sure to only lead you to death, I’d have never agreed to take you. And stop drinking your water so fast. It’s more than a day’s walk to the next good source, so you don’t want to run out before we even stop for the day.” She had yet to touch more than a few sips of her own water.

Rayse put away his canteen, but backtracked to the first thing she’d said. "What do you mean, not from Althanas?"

She shrugged, her tone calm and light, but a little wistful and sad. "Sometimes, when the stars and the moon and the leylines turn just so to reflect each other just right, the boundaries between worlds come unraveled. I was in the right place at the wrong time, and went from a large cave on another world to a tiny one in Alerar. I tried going home once, but the way was shut, and I’ve not heard of any other ways to return."

"I see." He had a hard time believing that. Trust was a rare commodity for Rayse, but nothing in her tone seemed to indicate any deceit. He decided not to press her on the subject.

As Rayse looked at the map again, Karuka piped up, "there’s some writing on the back, here. It looks the same as the writing you see in Corone."

He turned the map around and looked, and indeed there was some writing there, much more recent-looking than the markings on the front.

He read them out loud. "When the sands turn black, move toward the golden spire."

Karuka shifted slightly, digging her toes into the coarse sand beneath her feet. "That probably means some sort of man-made landmark on the flats. We're heading east toward the Zaileya Mountains, passing by a small oasis and then moving south once we reach the black sands onto the glass flats. I doubt we’ll so much as see that spire; the map and writing are old, it’ probably not meant for us. It should be far south of where we’re going. We’re headed northeast to a little area that gets just a wee bit more rain than most of Fallien. If there’s such an herb as can cure Doiteain as Cothromaicht, that’s where it’ll be. We’re too far out yet for me to feel it very clearly."

"Okay," said Rayse. The explanation sounded convincing enough. "What about the rest of it?" He showed her the back of the map, which had more instructions on it.

"Looks like writing, but I could be wrong."

Rayse stared at her, dumbfounded. "You can't read Tradespeak?"

"Learning to read blots on paper wasn’t much necessary where I came from. I can read the world around me. I know it’s been years since these sands saw so much as a drop of water, in the forests I can tell you what sort of creature passed and left tracks within a week, I can find food and shelter anywhere. These...markings. They’ve never needed to mean anything to me."

She dug into her satchel, pulling out a small bag and digging into it for a few small clay tablets. “I did learn to read these as a child, but now they don’t mean mu-” She glanced at them and paled slightly, eyes widening and traveling slowly over the shapes etched into them. “When did you start to speak again…?” The question was whispered, not addressed to Rayse.

“Speaking?”

Karuka blinked, closing her hand around her runes and putting them back into her pouch. “You’re not convinced of the truly important things I told you earlier; I’ll not drop this on you as well, yet.” She smiled cheerfully, then turned back around, leading him further into the desert. With her back to him, though, she frowned.

Ken, the flame. Eoh, the wanderer. Mann and Geofu, runes of connection and interdependence. Obviously they were speaking of herself and the man who walked a few steps behind her, saying that they needed each other. Saying that to each one, the presence of the other was a gift, something precious. But Tir and Nied… those runes spoke of hardship and trouble, pain and suffering. There would be trials out on the sands, trials greater than either of them were expecting. But they spoke. The last time the runes had spoken to her, she was following Damon Kaosi into Ragnorak. Ragnorak was where the gods died; without their connection to the divine, the runes had no way of speaking. Was everything she had endured over the past several years nothing but a figment of her own despair and fear?

Night descended, the pale glow of dusk replaced by the moonlight reflecting off the sands. It was bright enough to see where they were going in the cloudless sky. Karuka pulled her cloak tightly around her, against the winds that froze her up at every gust. She still walked quickly and without complaint, bare feet pulling her resolutely toward some destination drawn on a map in her soul. Rayse, on the other hand, felt the same as he had during the day. A hazy, warm feeling filled his body, as if he was not part of this world himself. Her punch had stabilized his physical form, but he was still very much afflicted by the curse. He envied her the feeling of cold; to the Salvaran native, it would have been a bracing, welcome sensation.

Incidentally, the bird on Karuka's shoulders seemed only barely phased by the chill of the desert night, fluffed up with his head tucked beneath a wing, peacefully asleep.

"The phoenix... where did you get it?"

“Taodoine?” Karuka gave the fledgling a kiss when he looked at her in response to his name, then smiled at Rayse. “The last time I was here, I traveled from Kithdir to Irrakam with a man named Storm Veritas. We had a little bit of a tiff,” rather, he had come on too strong and she had yelled at him. “And I left. Irrakam at night isn’t very kind to a teenage girl, and I got into a little trouble. I lost my staff for a bit, and damn near got myself killed… but he found me again. Saved my life, then brought me back to somewhere safe and warm. Taodoine’s egg rolled into my hands during the fight; he was something the thugs were planning to trade. He didn’t hatch until I accidentally dropped him in the fire a couple of years later. Sent up a mighty flare, he did, and you should have seen Seth jump.” She giggled.

“Seth?”

“Dahlios. He’s dead now; I buried him myself. But we traveled together for a while, and he was pretty well my brother by the end of it.” A touch of a smile graced her lips. “I hope he’s found his peace at last.”

The names sounded familiar to Rayse, but the details were lost on him. One thing was for sure: Karuka was anything but ordinary. He grew silent, the conversation leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Maybe it was his growing exhaustion, but he felt like his sense of control was slipping further away. He gave the map a last lingering look, and then folded it up and put it away.

[Karuka]

Each step over the rough, gritty sand took the duo farther and farther from anywhere that humans could possibly exist and deeper into an expanse of merciless aridity where dehydration might just have been the most pleasant way to die. Here the sands were dead; neither serpent nor scorpion crawled in the ripples on the dunes. With only moonlight to light their way and limited time in which to reach an unknown destination, Rayse and Karuka had fallen into silence, each tending to their own thoughts.

For the off-worlder who walked a few paces ahead of the Salvaran, those thoughts drifted to Raiaera, where she had watched a battle of the dead unfurl, and it had been a losing battle for the living. She had seen such atrocities that she knew it had to have been Ragnarok - the end of days. The mark on her forehead that had bound her to the gods of her father had vanished in that battle. Her runes had stopped whispering secrets from the gods of her mother, though for months afterward she had desperately sought their advice.

Were the gods being reborn? Or was the return of her divining abilities simply a part of who she was - a descendant of Sheehan the seer, the granddaughter of her granddaughter, and thus privileged and burdened with clairvoyance? She hadn’t so much as glanced at the pouch since before she had turned nineteen; now she was twenty-one. Would they have started talking to her again when she’d been caught up in Salvar’s ongoing civil war? Or while she traveled with the Hex Ghoul?

She had learned so much about how to survive with just relentless determination, carefully-honed sensitivity to the wild world around her, and her skill with her weapons. But how could she have grown if she had not forsaken everything she had known in blind despair? Would she still be able to feel the life-that-was beneath her feet, feel the fire shimmering in the heat of the Fallinese air even when she didn’t need to call it forward? Would she ever hear the ocean sing again, calling her to use it as part of her defenses?

Or would she never again be able to reach out and feel the world surging in her blood, working at her side like a sibling? Would she be forever able to hear what Althanas was saying, to feel its sorrow, its anger, its fear and its joy, without being able to tell it of her own? Was that limited to the bog of Fiorair and the jungle of Luthmor, to which her soul had been forcibly tied?

She was still caillte, lost… but she had thought herself daonnan caillte, lost forever. Maybe she wasn’t. If she could save Rayse, could she find herself as well?

The moon rose high while they traveled, then sank until it hovered just above the horizon. The stars turned overhead, almost bright enough to walk by on their own with the perfectly clear skies and shining sands. At long last, soft pinks and purples painted the edge of the sky, subtle harbingers of the coming inferno. When dawn broke in earnest, it did not do so timidly, as it might have over a more charitable land. Instead the sun burst over the horizon in glorious orange and gold, announcing to any and all that the king had returned to rule with his fist of fire.

Karuka came to a stop shortly after daybreak, probing the sands intently with both her feet and her eyes. Though Rayse couldn’t see any of her facial expression except for the set of her eyebrows and the narrowness of her squint, the way she leaned forward on the balls of her feet and the tightness between her shoulders might as well have screamed her unease to him.

“Is something wrong?”

Karuka nodded. “These sands have more life to them than where we’ve been. That means danger more often than it means anything good. Stay close and quiet; we might be able to get another few miles before it’s too hot to travel.”

She moved forward again, feet light on the ground, and Rayse gazed at her back. He was looking right through her, through the desert, his eyes open but seeing nothing. Wisps of flame rose from his frame, dancing in the sun, calling out for him to join them. The stabilizing effect of Karuka’s punch was fading, but he was not noticing. Empty thoughts entered and left his mind, leaving him in a trance.

Before the sun had even fully risen, the two wayward travelers came across an actual, rare sign of life. Ahead of them was a large, bright purple flower. Plant life was generally a sign of water, but for Rayse, it might signify something far more precious indeed.

He was out here looking for an herb. A simple plant fated to cure him, to make him normal again. The exact location was never mentioned, simply a route to follow. It could be anywhere along the route, not necessarily at the end of it. How many plants were out here in these conditions? Something rare, something that stood out, was this it? With half-closed eyes, he felt himself drawn to his cure, his salvation.

Karuka’s steps drew her away from the beautiful blossom, but Rayse disregarded her avoidance. She was looking across the sands for danger, and perhaps she either hadn’t seen the flower or hadn’t considered it important. He hastened to it, reaching like a drowning man would reach for a hand.

Karuka felt that Rayse had stopped following her, and whirled around to see what he was doing, grasping for him though he was more than a dozen yards away. “Don’t!”

Her shouted warning came too late; the contractor’s hand closed on the plant… and a maw closed around his body.

A great worm burst from the ground with a bellow that shook the earth, sending sand cascading in every direction. Like a self-defense mechanism, Rayse’s body turned to flames, the monster’s bite only closing down on fire before descending back into the sand. Panic burned within Rayse, the curse within him reacting to his need to escape and the helplessness he felt while his body quickly reformed. He erupted into flames, burning with fear and fury. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat. The monster came back up to the surface, its jaw ready for another attempt.

The woman was already racing across the rapidly-heating sands beneath him, mask down and spear, Consequence, at the ready, for what good it could do. The creature was far wider than he was tall, and the part of it that extended above the sand was easily taller than two men standing on each other’s shoulders. More of it burst from the ground, until it stood as tall as a mature poplar tree.

With Rayse sprawled on the ground, as likely dead as alive, Karuka could have chosen to run away, to leave him to suffer the consequences of his own foolishness. She had warned him of the danger and she owed him no loyalty.

Of course, those thoughts came to her mind exactly as easily as snow came to Irrakam: not at all. She was forward momentum, a creature with purpose. She had left her phoenix and her bag behind, there was no reclaiming them until the worm was dealt with.

“HOIGH!” Her shout pierced through the dying rumble’s of the beast’s scream, grabbing its attention and turning it toward her. She stopped, holding out her arms and bracing herself for a battle of wills with the worm. She could calm it and put it back to sleep.

The great head turned toward her, and despite the heat already rising around her, Karuka’s blood went cold.

This was a Kresh’Ramli - an apex predator in this part of Fallien, luring in its prey with the promise of water, then granting them eternal freedom from thirst. And it had no eyes to lock with hers.

[Karuka]

Rayse groaned, starting to rise from the sand. He was dazed and startled, but otherwise unharmed.

The Kresh’Ramli’s head swayed back and forth as it honed in on its new target and prepared to strike.

Karuka stood her ground, gathering as much air as her lungs could hold. Then she let out a roar. It was a primal sound, carried from the pit of her belly and torn out of her throat. It was a sound too big for its vessel, one that echoed through Fallien… a sound not meant for Fallien.

A bigger, wilder roar answered hers as the streamlined tan head lunged forward. A great blue cat pounced from the sand behind the worm, digging its claws into the leathery flesh and wrestling the desert creature away from the redhead. The long, segmented body writhed, digging itself up from its ancient resting place to fight back against the long claws that ripped into its hard skin and the sharp fangs that stabbed through the carapace on its back.

Though the cat was ten feet tall at the shoulder, and twice that in body length, it couldn’t wrap itself all the way around its prey, and the Kresh’Ramli was easily four times longer than it. Back and forth they fought, the two titans, their mighty muscles and thrashings shaking the earth around them. They growled and roared, shrieked and howled, bit and clawed.

Rayse momentarily roused from his muddled state, the scene before him coming into focus. Is that… a giant cat? He concentrated hard, trying desperately to recall Karuka's message of balance, and his body remained whole. Where did it come from?

More or less whole, he looked at the worm, Karuka, the cat, and then back at himself. He pulled down his mask and head covering, allowing the sun’s rays to hit him in all their glory. His fists balled up, he felt the desert giving him strength. Here, there was nothing stopping his roaring fury.

With the worm distracted, Karuka moved forward again; her old friend couldn’t stay long, and he didn’t have enough time to dispatch this vicious desert threat on his own. Once he was gone, if the worm wasn’t dealt with, she and Rayse would be dead.

The cat slammed into the sand in front of her, and with foolishness born of necessity, she launched onto his back, clinging to his dark rosettes and letting him bear her up when he got his feet back under him. It only took a moment, but that was all the worm needed to strike again, grasping the cat’s foreleg with enough force to rip flesh and fur from the muscle beneath it.

An ear-shattering yowl pierced the air, and Karuka was nearly thrown while the great cat fought to free itself by any means necessary. Instead of sensibly jumping down, she dug in her fingers and bare toes, launching up the cat’s back and dropping onto the worm’s head, plunging Consequence into a weak point on its armor. The spear discharged a painful jolt of electricity into the soft flesh, letting the smell of ozone and burned flesh mingle with the oily tang of annelid blood and the sweet jungle musk from the cat.

The worm reared back, trying to fling the little stinging morsel off of it, but she dropped flat, gripping hard to the wrinkles in its cold leathery skin. When the head came back around, she ripped her spear free and scrabbled forward until she reached the merciless maw. It snapped instinctively, trying to swallow her down, only to bite down on a painful sting that didn’t let it open or close any further.

Karuka’s eyes met the Liviol Guardian’s, and she made a request of him with a tilt of her head. She was bracing the creature’s mouth open, pushing with her arms and legs to keep everything aligned right. The cat gripped the worm’s neck again, wrenching it down and towards Rayse, who stood where he had fallen, an instinctive inferno ready to let loose at the proper moment.

The contractor’s eyes grew dark, flames swirling around him like a tornado. What little control he had, he concentrated it into his right fist. He demanded the flames to move, to obey his will. The ring on his finger glowed, the same way it had in the mines of Kachuck when his powers had coalesced to incinerate some dark elves who were attacking him. He lifted his head and peered into the abyss that was the worm’s maw.

A great gout of flame rushed from him and into the Kresh’Ramli’s open mouth, missing Karuka by such a small margin that her sleeve started to smolder. The worm stiffened, then bucked and thrashed, fighting against the flames that consumed it from within. The redhead and her spear went flying one way, the cat went another way, and flames erupted from the creature like a dragon’s breath, its low-pitch gurgle followed by a painfully loud shriek. Its insides were charred, but it was a creature of extreme heat. It yet lived, but it was in crippling agony and its focus had shifted from luring and devouring prey to escaping at any cost. It burrowed into the ground, tunneling deep and far to get away from its tiny assailants.

A grumpy growl questioned Karuka, who looked at the cat and nodded, thanking him and sending him home.

With the worm gone all of the adrenaline surging through her body crashed, letting her feel every muscle twinge and twitch from getting whipped around and thrown by a several-ton monster. Of course, Rayse was still on fire. I should probably take care of that.

Despite the victory, Rayse’s face remained stoic, the flames around his body whirling around him. He felt like a stiff breeze would completely disperse him. He looked at his hands, which were half transparent, his focus no longer able to keep him in one piece.

In a brief moment of clarity, he shouted for help. “Karuka! Do that thing you did before! Now!”

“Calm down,” the half-feral woman told him, curling up her hand and launching it forward into his sternum. Her hand passed right through him, and she recoiled automatically, pulling back as her skin began to blister.

Rayse’s eyes widened, his mouth agape and his body shaking. “No…”

Karuka bit her lip. Fear and anger wouldn’t help him, and he was clawing at those old, comfortable emotions for lack of any other way to deal with his situation. If she couldn’t change his state of mind, one way or another, he would probably succumb to Doiteain as Cothromaicht where he stood.

With no other real options in front of her, she grabbed his jaw, then leaned in and pressed her lips roughly to his. She couldn’t call it a good kiss; it was too bitter and stiff. What it did was shock him enough that she could drive her fist into the spot on his chest that worked to turn off the flames.

“Malchadan,” she swore when he was stable, flexing her burned hand and wincing when the localized pain shot up her arm. “What part of ‘this area is more dangerous’ was unclear? Kresh’Ramli are rare creatures, and to be so big, that one must have been nigh on a thousand years old. I’m aware of the plants and animals we come across. I can feel them. If I’m not touching it, don’t touch it. If your herb exists, we’ll find it, unless we die first.”

She turned, walking to her bird and belongings, where she knelt and dug through her satchel. It only took her a moment to pull out a vial of some sort of salve and apply it to the painful boils sustained while trying to help her traveling companion. She let out a hiss as the liviol balm worked its way through her injuries, starting its healing work. When that was done, she spat some of the grit from her mouth and pulled on her boots; already the sands were too hot to walk on barefooted.

“C’mon,” she muttered, standing up and adjusting her belongings on her shoulders. “We need another few miles between us and that thing before we make camp. Kresh’Ramli are solitary save for when they mate, but the worm needs food to recover from its injuries. When it comes back - and it will - it'll be far less easy to drive off.”

Rayse felt the flames dissipate from his body in the minute after the punch, disconnecting him from the desert. He was whole again, but in still in a momentary state of shock. He pressed a hand to his mouth, staring at Karuka, who was already on the move. She was quick to forgive him, and even after his blunder and her outburst she did not abandon him. All this time, he had thought only of himself. With curiosity now more than suspicion, he started thinking of her.

[Rayse Valentino]

With the heat bearing down on them, the prospect of rest was all they could think about. Karuka in particular looked like she was starting to wilt, and while Rayse was sleepy, his body didn't carry the stress from the battle. He kept his hood down and felt refreshed by the heat, but he knew the danger that such a feeling posed. The bitter chill of night kept his power in check, so stopping soon would be the safest thing to do.

What Rayse thought was a mirage slowly came into view, a color he never expected to see out here: Green. The ground was more level and solid, beaten paths coalescing to one point. Palm trees, bushes, and tall grass rose up near a clear pool of water, wide enough to swim in. Rayse started drooling, but wiped his mouth and kept up with Karuka's steps.

She frowned, looking around suspiciously. “This isn’t natural. We won’t reach a real oasis until near dawn tomorrow. But I don’t see anyone around.” Despite her misgivings, she moved forward, into the thorny scrub grass. “It’s new, too. The trees aren’t even a year old, and things start growing here at the slightest hint of moisture.” Still, the more shade they had to rest under, the more comfortably they could sleep. Rayse recalled the map he put away, and there was indeed nothing marked in this area. He wondered what else the map didn’t know.

She took one last look around when she reached the clear little pool, eyes probing the horizon and body tense. Still there was nothing, no hint of danger, so she crouched down and pulled down her hood, scooping up water and liberally dousing her face and head. Mildly refreshed, she swished a handful of the cool liquid around her mouth, then spat it out into the grass.

“Let’s get a fire going and start boiling this. You could drink it and be fine today, but a week down the line you’d be bleeding out your eyeballs.” There were rumors of a few tribes who could make oases. They never lasted long, so even one so old as half a year was impressive… but it seemed the creator had more stamina than skill.

"I was wondering," Rayse said, tilting his head while helping her gather dry grass and scrub, "how do you know you're from another world? You could've just been dumped here from some far off land. Most of the land across the ocean is uncharted. Or you could be from some isolated tribe somewhere... " Rayse felt a familiar twinge from the last comment, but ignored it. Something about Karuka's appearance and mannerisms reminded him... no, he wouldn't think about it.

“Isolated, yes. Althanian, no. I’m a Tenalach, remember? From the moment I arrived, I knew it was a different world. It sounded different underfoot, as it were. Oh, of course different places sound different, even on the same world, but while Dheathain shouts its magnificence and Fallien howls its fury and Salvar grumbles beneath the snows, they all say that they’re part of the same place, and it’s not the place I’m from. I do think that there’s been exchanges between the worlds, back and forth. The Dheath speak a form of Gaelige and in Fallien it’s a form of Sanskrit - my mother’s and father’s languages, respectively. There are even tales there of some of the creatures here.”

“Do you think you’ll ever get back home?” he asked, since it seemed she had stopped.

Karuka looked down at the firepit they had made, then lit it with a flick of a tiny device she had with her. “I don’t think I will ever return. And I wouldn’t call it home. My stepfather threw me from my clann after my mother died, and my father left us when I stood not so much taller than your knee. I had nowhere, nothing, and no one there; I was always a child of foreign gods. I have nowhere and no one here, still, but I’ve got enough to call my own… and I have this wee bit trying to destroy my fire.” She grabbed Taodoine before he could nestle too comfortably into the flames, ruffling his quills playfully.

"I see," Rayse said solemnly. Despite her confidence, she still did not know her place in the world. He was a Salvaran, but lived in a big city where being too friendly got you sidelong glances. The few times he left the country, the environment was hostile to travelers. Only recently did he start seeing the world, and it made him question who he was.

She looked at him with those brilliant blue eyes, scrutinizing him while she carefully set a pot of water on the fire to start replenishing their supply. “What of you? What took you from hearth and home and out into this wild world? You’re from Knife’s Edge, right? Or nearby; you sound it. These deserts may as well be a different world to you.”

“I never thought I would leave the city,” he said. “I wanted to rise through the ranks and become my own boss. Before the war broke out, I was almost there…” He looked up at the sky and reached out toward the sun, blocking it from his view with his hand. “After I left, I found my own independence, but it didn’t bring me the kind of joy I expected. Whether I’m in the city or this desert, it’s all the same to me.”

She set up their shelters while he spoke, pinning the cloak hoods to the ground and propping up the bases so that they formed a shelter from the sun and the wind. “If you’re looking for something to happen or something to fall into place or someone to walk into your life to find joy, you will never find it, Rayse.” He joined her beneath the shade, sitting in the cool he couldn’t feel, and she gently tapped his chest with a single finger. “Joy comes from here first, and not from things going right.”

[Karuka]

Karuka laid down and fell asleep quickly beneath the lean-to, but Rayse stayed up and stared off into the distance, letting hours go by in his fugue. Oddly enough, it was the sleeper who sensed something was amiss, as she slowly roused herself and looked off toward the horizon, focusing sharply on something moving under the noontime sun. Rayse's eyes followed and saw a growing cloud of sand.

He looked at her. "Is that... a sandstorm?"

"No," she replied, shoving Taodoine unceremoniously into her satchel and placing the whole bundle safely beneath a rock. "It's people on horseback. Moving fast."

It was too late to gather their belongings and flee. The people were upon them, their brown horses circling the encampment. They wore thick turbans and the white robes of a tribe unfamiliar to Karuka, their faces completely covered by dark veils. Despite that, their postures spoke of wrath and barely-restrained violence.

Karuka threw her spear to the ground, holding her hands up and turning a slow half-circle. Her eyes focused on the horses first, rather than the men. The beasts snorted and shuffled, responding to a communication far older and more instinctive than magic. It was only when one of the men spoke that she focused in on him. His language was rapid, angry and bubbling, and her face compressed as she dredged the deepest depths of her memory for some sliver of understanding.

She responded to him after a second, speaking slowly and haltingly in a tongue she hadn’t used often since she was a young girl. Her hand pointed to the western horizon, at the sun, then toward the east. Her tone was calm and conciliatory; she did not wish to fight these men.

Whatever words had passed between them were not good enough to persuade the mounted men to forgive their trespass, however, and the speaker drew a blade forged of some dark metal. Karuka sighed and threw down her hands, kicking her weapon up and catching it. As if on cue, every horse reared and bucked, throwing their riders and running off.

Within moments, all of their weapons were drawn. Most had scimitars, but there were a couple of machetes in the mix as well.

Rayse was unconcerned. “No problem, just summon that big cat or use that magic you keep talking about.”

“I can’t,” said Karuka conclusively, brandishing her spear. After blinking once, Rayse bent down and retrieved the knife strapped to his right ankle. “Don’t use the fire. It’s too hot out and you’re too unstable.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Rayse grinned.

The raiders closed in for the attack, and the contractor sprung into action. He headed toward a tall man wielding a machete, avoided his attack, and spun around and drove his knife into his opponent’s back. With a groan, the raider tried clutching at his back, but couldn’t reach and fell the ground. Rayse retrieved the machete and ran at another, trying to keep them from attacking all at once.

His next adversary swung his sword at Rayse, but the contractor avoided it with a sharp side step. Rayse swung his machete with one hand, powering the chop with the momentum of his dodge. After a brief scream, the raider gurgled and collapsed, his brother's weapon buried deep in his neck.

Rayse pulled the machete out, and pointed it at the others with blood dripping from its blade. “The rest of you better fuck right off!” His words fell on deaf ears, possibly because the raiders didn’t understand Tradespeak, but mostly due to the nearly half-dozen of them attacking his guide. “Goddess-damned…”

Twirling Consequence around, the redhead deflected the blades that thrust toward her and flashed around her, weaving a tight circle of defense. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, as though she wasn’t watching what was happening, but she darted and danced through the mesh of sharp steel, blocking slashes and spinning from stabs, reacting to attacks even before they happened. Not acclimated to the shimmering heat of the desert sun or cursed with a body made half of fire, beads of sweat gathered on her skin and raced down her face.

She took almost a minute to find the rhythm and pace of the battle, who would dart in and dash out in what order, how they would do so. They weren’t as fast and skilled as she was individually, but if she allowed the fight to last long, they had the advantage of numbers. Theoretically she had Rayse, and he was fighting this battle, but he wasn’t the type to take on her fights - and she wasn’t the type to ask for help.

Consequence stabbed out hard when it found an opening, catching one of the blades by the flat and spitting a painful shock into a man’s hand. He cried out in startled agony, dropping his weapon, but instead of stabbing him through, Karuka stepped forward and rammed her forehead into his nose, dropping him to the ground. His neighbor, surprised by the primality of her attack, recoiled briefly, then stepped forward, only to catch a vicious backhand across the face. Karuka’s spiked plynt bracelet drove into the soft tissues of his cheek, ripping painful new scars. With blood in his eyes and sand in his wounds, he withdrew to let his tribesmen deal with the girl.

Though her breath came hard and heavy, Karuka turned to the remaining three, twirling her spear and looking through them with her blank, far-seeing glare.

Another raider attacked Rayse, this one a bit faster than the rest. The contractor deflected the blows with his machete, half of his attention focused on Karuka. After fighting a giant worm monster, he thought she would be able to handle this, but despite dispatching two of her opponents, her movements looked sluggish and strained. Not only that, but she moved in a very deliberate fashion, her strikes taking care not to kill the men. Rayse grit his teeth and looked at his attacker. He planted his foot into the ground and threw his machete at the raider. The veiled man dodged the sword, but Rayse followed it up by spinning backwards on his heel and kicking the man in the side with the full force of his body. The raider had the wind knocked out of him and tumbled down, gripping his side.

Rayse ran towards Karuka, who couldn’t deal with the third raider running up behind her due to an attack from two opponents at once. The contractor jumped into the air and dropkicked the that raider in the face, sending him flying into the thorny shrubs that lined the oasis.

Another raider took the blunt end of the woman’s staff in the ribs and went flying back. With only two opponents, Karuka risked putting on one final burst of speed, taxing her already-strained body just a little further. A blur of red wood, blue metal, and tan fabric whirled in on the two remaining nomads, prodding defenses and slapping wrists and shins until the weapons fell from their hands.

The remaining raiders, disarmed, injured and disadvantaged, picked up their injured and ran off after their horses, spouting Fallinese curses as they ran. Rayse was about to chase after them with malice in his eyes, but Karuka held him back with a hand on his shoulder.