The sun creeps back over the horizon, its golden tongues of light licking at Arienne's eyelids. She flicks them open, rising groggily from her rest, scanning the camp perimeter.
"Lukal?" she croaks.
Lifting herself off the ground, she would find him nearby. Amusing himself as he carves runes into the sand with a long, arching stream of urine until a small rock cracks the back of his head with a striking thud.
"Ah! Troll's taint! What was that?" He yelps, rubbing his scalp. "Oh, Captain Lindbergh. May the dawn sing your name, my liege."
"Insubordinate simpleton!" she rasps. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"W-well, considering yesterday's events." Lukal stutters as he ties up his pants. "I thought the extra rest…"
"What of you?" Arienne counters. "Will I have to contend with your corpse when you collapse from fatigue in this forsaken wasteland?"
"N-No, Captain. Fit as a forest frog's fiddle. I assure you…"
"Sleep, now! We move in two hours."
"Yes, Captain."
Lukal darts back to their makeshift camp, curling up beneath a small tarp like a kicked dog as Arienne surveys the area under a new day's light. Fields of rock and boulders recede behind her. A vast, sun-blasted plain stretches out ahead.
She turns north, where a deep, blue sky touches the horizon. No spiralling black clouds or flashes of green lightning. For the first time in her life, the dark, accursed stormwall that plagues the southern horizon of her homeland was no longer visible.
She thumbs at the smooth, polished surface of her sister's pendant as whispers of doubt and self-loathing try to worm their way into her head. "No time for melancholy!" She thinks to herself, pushing them away dark thoughts with unwavering resolve.
Sitting in the sand, she cleans her equipment and sharpens the blades of her twin swords. The long, repetitive motions of rubbing stone on metal, helps calm her mind. She follows up with a series of drills. Practicing her swordwork under the scorching sun, cleaving apart rocks and boulders with magic-infused blades.
Tired and content, her face and body drenched in sweat, she rips off her pauldrons and breastplate, opens the buttons of her blouse and drops, kneeling deep into the sand as she gasps for air.
"Oh, Great Spirits of wind, earth, water and light," she prays softly. "I beg thee to guide my blade. Protect my people… and keep Bella safe."
She shakes off sand from her hand to wipe away sweat and tears that sting her eyes.
"Ugh. Crying, Lindbergh?" She groans, repulsed.
Arienne lifts to her feet, dusting off her armour and marches back to camp where Lukal already packs up their provisions.
"Almost done here, m'lady. We can leave within half an hour."
"Good work, Lukal. Have you eaten?"
Lukal nods in the affirmative.
"Drank?"
He hesitates, replying with a shrug.
"Provisions?" Arienne asks, her brow bent.
"Three days of food, maybe 4 at a stretch. But water… it won't last past tomorrow."
Arienne snorts, her face turning to a frown. "Then we have no choice. We must hunt… and pray."
"Understood, Captain."
"We will continue east. I've spotted what may be mountains. We need the high ground. A lay of the land."
"Yes, Captain. There's, um, just one thing… about the mission…"
"I know, Lukal. The expedition is lost and the Dark Lord remains out of our reach… Though the parameters of our mission have changed, the outcome may not. The Dark Lord must fall. We can only pray the Spirits will guide us to this goal. Until then, we must survive. Now, hurry up, we are losing daylight!"
Lukal finishes packing up their camp and the duo cautiously begin the trek over the vast, scorched plains. By midday, their slog through the heat haze would leave them sweat soaked, armour clanking in their packs as they slowly trudge forward.
"C-Captain. A moment to rest?" Lukal groans.
"Here," Arienne rasps, "Give me your pack."
"Oh. N-No, Captain. I'll manage. I couldn't…"
"Give it, Lukal."
"M'lady…"
Arienne's growls. Lukal obeys. Handing over his gear with a bowed head.
"Forgive me, Lady Lindbergh, to burden you…"
"Quiet! Look, there…" Arienne says, pointing eastward to rocky peaks that poke out over the horizon. "Faith, friend. It will carry us."
By dusk, the peaks loom larger. They make camp inside a shallow crater around a small flickering fire. Lukal occasionally entertains with song and poetry, while Arienne shares tales of past battles and hunting monsters beyond the stormwall.
As evening gives way to twilight, Arienne sits on watch. Pondering the day's events and what tomorrow holds, she reaches for a canteen. Empty.
Lukal stirs beside her, rubbing at his eyes as he yawns himself to wakefulness.
"Ready for some rest, m'lady?"
"Aye." Arienne responds with a rare smile. "Be sure to keep the worms away."
She slips beneath her cloak, dozing off without difficulty as Lukal hums tender tunes nearby.
"Captain! Awake! Look!" Lukal yells, jostling Arienne's shoulder.
She bolts upright, scanning the horizon wildly as she reaches for her sword. "What? Where?"
Lukal gestures her gaze southward. "There, see it? Something's reflecting sunlight."
Covered in a patch of haze, the morning sun's light dances on an unseen surface, splitting into dozens of tiny glints.
"Water?" Lukal squeaks.
"Praise be!" Arienne cheers. "Come, let us make haste."
They swiftly pack up their camp and rush towards the light.
As they approach, the light splinters off into multiple shimmering patches that cover the sandy plain. Lukal slows as they near.
"M'lady, I don't think that's water…" He murmurs.
A sudden plume of dust erupts among the light shimmers, startling the pair. Arienne immediately tackles Lukal to the ground. They lay prone, staring intently into the distance.
"What are those?" He asks, face half buried in the sand.
"Not sure. We need to get closer. That might be our dinner." Arienne whispers. " Stay low, quiet."
The two slowly creep across the sand. Arienne stiffens her gaze, watching large shapes that flicker between the glinting lights.
"Wolves… " Arienne whispers.
"Wolves?" Lukal gasps. "The size of carriages?"
Arienne nods. "Stormborn! They bear the Dark Lord's stench." she whispers, sniffing at the air.
"I hope… you can't! Not alone."
Arienne scoffs, leaping to her feet. "Potions! Strength and haste! Quickly!"
Lukal, ruffling through his sack, produces two small vials and tosses it to Arienne. She downs them without hesitation, tightens her armour and draws both swords.
The potions take effect, sending flashes of magical power coursing through her veins. She takes a deep breath and bursts forth explosively, sand and dust billowing behind her.
A creature notices her approach. The largest among them, it drops into an aggressive stance, ears pointed forward, its tail erect, its fur all standing on end. The massive wolf snarls, rearing back its head before releasing a sharp, piercing howl.
It launches forward, beaming across the sand like a bolt of lightning. Teeth and claws fully beared, it leaps through the air, mouth agape as it aims for her face.
A quick twist of her body sends her sliding beneath it. She reaches up a sword, plunging it deep in the wolf's belly. With a hissed incantation and flick of her wrist, she sends an enormous wave of magic through her blade.
A mighty blast of air erupts inside the wolf's body, ripping it apart in a thundering explosion of flesh and bone, raining down its remains onto the searing sands around Arienne.
Caked in blood and viscera, she smears bloodstain across her face as she turns to the remaining creatures.
Another enormous canine approaches and she bounds off to meet it. The clang of teeth on metal shakes the sands.
Lukal winces as he watches his liege tussle with the massive animal. Jumps and somersaults send her flying through the air as she weaves between its vicious attacks, layering multiple deep slashes and stabs across its flesh. A swift swiping claw suddenly catches her chest, slamming her deep into the ground amongst a plume of dust. She coughs blood.
Magical daggers zip through the air, exploding across the wolf's face as Lukal joins the fray. Tossing blade after blade at the hulking beast, magical infusions erupt across its head in plumes of shattering ice and fire.
The beast, badly damaged and distracted, loses focus on Arienne. A swift and powerful leap sends her above its head. Coating her swords with spinning blades of cleaving air, she thunders down upon its nape, splitting its head from its shoulders.
The wolf's corpse slumps to the ground next to her as she flicks its blood from her blades.
She scoffs, huffing for breath as she turns to face the last creature, but finds it has already run off into the distance.
"Mediocre!" she spits.
"Bless my bushes! That was… incredible, Captain." Lukal pants as he runs toward Arienne.
She smirks. "Give me something to wipe my face."
He brandishes a sheet of cloth, dusting it off as he hands it to Arienne. He averts his gaze as she reaches crudely into her clothes and armour to dig out pieces of beast flesh.
"Don't touch the meat!" Arienne barks.
"Um… pardon?"
"It's tainted."
She walks among the scattered remains of the dessicated wolf, poking at pieces of flesh with her sword.
"See here!" She points to small metal conduits, pipes and strange devices that lay scattered amongst the wolf's remains.
"Tainted by dark magic and foul constructs. Dare not touch it more than is absolutely necessary."
"U-Understood, my liege." Lukal stutters, his stomach twisting as he stands among puddles of blood and entrails.
He turns his attention back into the distance, toward the glints of light.
"What do you think they are?" He asks, squinting.
"Best we go and see for ourselves." Arienne responds as she wipes her face.
The two quickly rush onward.
Lukal's eyes widen as they approach the structures.
"Looks like they're made of metal and some kind of… glass." He exclaims as they approach.
Arienne inspects the gleaming constructs intently. Wide sheets of cracked, blue-black glass sit atop tall metal poles that protrude from the ground.
"Are these… the Dark Lord's constructs?" Lukal asks warily.
"I doubt it." Arienne replies, sniffing the air around them. "I don't smell his influence. The air feels clean, almost sterile."
"Then what are they?" Lukal asks, sliding his fingers over the dusty surfaces.
"They look old. Ancient. See, the rust runs deep. These structures have been buried for a very long time. Perhaps remnants of the old-world."
"R-Really?" Lukal gasps. "I've read some of the stories."
"So have I. It is said that they could build constructs and machines far beyond anything we could imagine." Arienne says as she pokes at metal and glass.
"What do you think these constructs were used for?"
"I do not know, and neither do I care." Arienne responds. "We have a mission, and it's not to explore ancient ruins."
"Of course, Captain."
"Search over there, see if you can find anything useful."
Lukal nods before running off, weaving between the constructs while Arienne searches in the opposite direction. Lukal's report of discovery comes after only a few minutes.
"Water! Come quickly Captain." his voice rings out between the structures. Arienne pokes her head out from between rusty poles, spying the squire waving his arms a short distance off.
Lukal leans over a battered and broken metal structure, half buried in the sand. The rank smell of old, stagnant water filling the air as Arienne draws near.
"It's a tank." Arienne announces as she peers into the structure. "Ugh. Stinks." She says, recoiling at the putrid smell.
Inside the ancient, corroded husk, pipes and rails abound and soft shimmers of sunlight reflect off a hidden pool of water deep below.
"Better than nothing." She sighs, dropping her pack and equipment to the ground. "We need to purify it. Prep camp. Start a fire."
Lukal sets up a small makeshift camp near the water tank while Arienne undresses to her underwear and instructs Lukal to do the same.
Slipping a blade for her boot, she cuts long strips of cloth from their clothes.
"Since we've lost most of our equipment to the worm, we'll have to make do." Arienne says proudly as she swings a long length of makeshift rope over her shoulder.
The pair redresses themselves in what little clothing remains and moves to the water tank. Using scraps, canteens, and whatever they can muster, they begin the gruelling process of drawing the water.
Arienne spends the rest of the evening working a complex purification process over a billowing fire while Lukal sings songs and prepares their dinner.
By nightfall, Lukal snores softly beside a pile of crackling embers, while Arienne strolls amongst the ancient constructs, a garden of trees made of glass and metal, stroking at the cold, hard surfaces, pondering the long dead civilization that had constructed it, millenia ago.
She looks up at the moon sitting low upon the north horizon as her sister's pendant sits warm upon her chest.
"Aribelle…" she whispers. "May the Spirits always watch over you."