Epilogue: The Return

[Caira Ayryn]

The smothering taste of already acrid air was a sudden perceptible haze that clouded her eyesight, then the light of the Oververse had gone, and she was left in sand. She could’ve kicked it, but her mind was still thrilling from the adventure. Almost immediately, she pulled out her books, and the unfinished diary of a man she had once known, and began to write in it on the steps where she had been delivered. Not far off, was Karn, the little lizard was sitting there, and had lizards faces had much room for mobility, his jaw would have been brushing against the ground.

Caira waved but said nothing, her brow lay heavy on her face, with a visible fret. She was forgetting something, it nagged at the back of her mind, but only for a moment, and then she was her usual self, well, one could say “usual” in these circumstances, however, Omni had delivered the greatest truth to her, she had a hard time wrapping her mind around who she was supposed to be. Clutter accumulated along with tides of worry and doubt. The girl snagged her hoverboard and seemed ready to be off from this place, she tossed her chin over her shoulder, and with her movement, a tuft of hair blew with the sandy breeze.

Above her, high in the sky were the steps she had ascended and taken to Omni. Now, she was at the bottom, but the steps did not seem so high. Karn wiggled his tail, and when he felt as though Caira would accept the greeting, he muttered, “H-hello.”

It didn’t take the freshly emboldened wizard to read how he was feeling, she spoke in a quirky and playful manner, apart from the serious one, which she seemingly had detached from in some respects, “Surprised to see me, are you?”


...



On her journey back with the lizard in hand, well, in tow behind her on the hover board, Caira groaned at the heat. “Isn’t there any way to do this a little faster?”

The lizard, surprisingly, offered some helpful advice. “Yes, indeed there is. If you’re willing to summon a mount, we could get there much quicker. Where I’m from,” the crystal tied around it’s head glowed blue as he spoke, “We had trains. It made travel in places like this much easier. Deserts are terrible places. Almost fitting I ended up trapped in one for years.”

Caira nodded absentmindedly and thought about the lizard’s fear of the great and powerful Omni, it had prevented him from wanting to come with her to the void. But Caira had suspected something different, something she could not place. Perhaps because the creature was mortal, and had heard stories of the void, and those people who not only did not return, but did not remain sane. She wondered what the lizard had to lose, considering his current position out here on the edge, but the thing was, he had survived this long which gave Caira the keen notion that he had a reason to live for. Caira considered this in her own limited way, but thought being turned into a lizard for years and years was a pretty bad fate, but apparently to the lizard, there were worse things.

Omni could have transformed the lizard back to normal, as he had restored her memories, but Caira had it fixed in her mind that her solutions were her own. And well, when she had asked the lizard about it, he seemed hesitant that the almighty-being even notice the lizard’s existence. Caira was forced to take the lizard’s word for it, and she was held to her promise to take him to Dalaran. It was her destination anyway, so it wasn’t necessarily out of her way. Her return seemed faster than when she had traveled all this way with Merik, well, until Merik had backstabbed and cursed her to rot in a casket. That kind of thing didn’t sit well with the still-noble prime. Still, Caira supposed it took less time, because time was harder to keep track of, with all these thoughts whirling around in her head.

Omni. She had met him. He was a fine chap, had a playful spirit that gave her the impression he had the mind of a child and the heart of, well... Perhaps it was that contradiction that made him so very undefinable. Not that that was a bad thing, not in the slightest, but she had learned things that were meant to be the answers, of the questions she had asked herself all of her life. Who were her parents, why was she here? Silly, ponderous thoughts now, which seemed so small on the new scale of things.

The conclusion drawn from her own mind was almost overwhelming, because the next question that perhaps even Omni couldn’t answer, and it was perhaps the most important of them all.

Where would she go from there?

[Caira Ayryn]

“So, I’ve been driving nonstop for like two days straight. I wish I could ask you to take the wheel.” Caira felt the tension forming in knots in her shoulders, and spread ice to her knuckles. Every part of her body was stiff, and she longed to sleep, even if it was just for a couple of hours.

“You know I would gladly take the wheel if I was human.” her lizard friend seemed to sigh.

“I know,” Caira agreed, “Well, hopefully if the wizards can help you, you won’t have to endure this much longer.” The reassurance she brought to words was partly meant to soothe her own storming thoughts.

The jeep’s wheels flushed up a huge cloud of billowing dust into the air, and its tracks would’ve made it easy for the bandits and enemies she had in the dunes to track her, but Caira didn’t care for two reasons. One, her speed was unmatched, unparalleled, she had imagined the best mount she could summon, and with the suggestion of the lizard, it had been an automobile, one that was similar but less advanced than those she had encountered in Coruscant.

Two, it would not lure the only enemy she wanted to see the most back to her. No, Merik was likely disappeared into the dunes somewhere, or escaped beyond. There were many other verses out there that Caira hadn’t visited. Plus, Caira could do with the slaying of a few bandits. Not to kill them, no, that was not who she was. But apprehending them and putting them in the back would’ve been a synch. She felt like she was on top of the world, having just met Omni and uncovered the truth.

It would take more than two days to traverse the entire desert, even at top speed with this vehicle. And that was just the journey unhitched. Caira finally skidded to a stop, kicking up a decent cover of cloud and dust in case she were ambushed while she got out of the car to stretch. Funny, she couldn’t see a thing through the dust, and was thankful for her sunglasses as her tongue tasted the less-than-fragrant dirt as it rose in the air. She’d be coughing that up in the morning.

Her legs squished down on the sand, and started to wobble as Caira nosedived into the hot sand. “O-oof,” she muttered and lifted her head up, she had eaten a mouthful of hot dirt and her face was red, brazen with the scalding heat. She groaned and flipped herself over as her hair matted against the sand, and the grains found their way into the tangles of her long, dark hair.

Because of her attire, she was not worried about the burning of sand, for she was protected by a thin layer of Coruscant fabric, one that was adaptable to heat and the like. For a while she laid there, as the dust settled on her forehead and closed eyes. The sun bore down on her once more, and she found herself a sleep while the lizard basked in the sun, letting it bathe over his cold reptilian flesh.

The car’s horn honked and roused her awake, “COME ON, GIRL. LET’S GO. There’s marauders after us! And something tells me they don’t just want your car!”

Caira jumped to her feet and launched into action, pressing the key into the ignition and slamming her foot on the pedal with a force that burnt rubber against the smoldering sand.

“Do you think we can outrun them?” she asked him, for he was well-versed in the ways of the inhabitants of the sand.

“That depends, how many enemies do you have out here?” his diamond eyes glanced up at the side mirror, and he appeared to sigh, the enemies that were steamrolling toward them, were coming not for her car, but for blood. The distinguished mop of her hair shook out in the convertible roof behind her, and the silky shine from her recognizable outfit of black must have caught the wayfaring bandits’ attention.

Caira looked at him, he had strapped the seatbelt around his lizard form in the best way he could. “Too many to count.”

“That mean’s there’s a price on yer head, girl, good job. Luckily for you, you’ve got me. And I have a unique ability that can get us out of this. Turn right and continue going east for about ten miles.” Bullets began to zoom by her head. Her hands turned the wheel when she felt something knock on her skull. A sharp pain bounced into her brain. Her teeth grit under the force of her jaw, and the wheel spun in her hands as she executed the ninety degree turn.  

Bullets bounced off of the back of the metal jeep again, but lucky for Caira they were unable to get another clear shot. A huge bruise was welling underneath her unbroken skin, and Caira still felt the sting of hot lead on the side of her head. The bullet had seemingly ricocheted off. The girl doubted she would get that lucky again.

As Caira drove and ducked and did her best to steer straight, the bullets kept flying like a hailstorm of death. It was amidst this chaos that Caira did not see that clumps of darkness on the horizon. As she drove closer, their forms became more and more apparent. And more and more bizarre.

“SCORPIONS?!”

“An army.” the lizard hissed.

But they were not the size of regular bugs, nor did they resemble spiders. They were taller than a man, and their tales were long, venomous, and thrashing.

And amidst their chase, they were headed straight for them.
...

It all happened in a blur. Suddenly she had run over several of them, but merely crushed some legs in the process of her hope to get past the bug-like creatures. They were six feet high, and their tails danced into the air before lunging for her, the car’s leather seat was now split in two, and fluff was spitting out of it. That fluff could’ve been her, because it had missed its target, Caira, by about six inches to the right.  

She breathed in a sigh of relief, but was startled as more started to chase her automobile. What was she supposed to do now? Where was she supposed to go? There were nearly a hundred of the monsters, and the guys in the car chasing her were -almost- managing better than she was.

The one thing scorpions seemed to hate more than being run over, was getting shot at. And bullets and grenades were all the bandits had. Her attackers worked hard to follow Caira, but were forced to abandon it after one of their friend got speared in the chest by the creature’s venomous sword of a tail.

She caught a glimpse of the man’s contorting face as death soon came to him and his form wilted into a mushy mess of unraveled skin and bone. Caira thought that the men were horrible for targeting her, and in her experience, knew that most were guilty of the most immoral crimes, but she did not believe that death was something to be delivered in such a way that it gave them dishonor. The best way to die, was to die doing what you believed in. 

...

With that in her mind, Caira decided to fight. But then, how did one fight a hundred scorpion-beasts that were larger than you? Her vehicle dodged their forms as they whizzed past, and dang, were they fast. They had been charging the same direction she had been going before her turn, which meant reaching the town had been inevitable. And while she didn’t want to think about it, the entire town would be overwhelmed even IF she did find a way to escape the hoard. So, she asked her lizard friend, “So, we’re here, what do we do now? What is their weakness. I won’t let them go any further, the townspeople will be overrun.”

“And you think I have any clue? Well, I have learned my fair share about scorpions, but I’m afraid this battle might just be too big for even you, Ms. Ayryn...”



Her eyes quickly swept the scene. The scorpions made good time over the dunes, their bodies stood tall and easily traversed the desert. They moved at great speed, and the only ones getting damaged at all were those who had encountered her attackers. All of whom, were now dead.

The color of their corpses were distinctly pale, and their expressions were withered and contorted, from the pain of the venom in their veins, which was the last thing they felt before they died.

“Tch. You had to go and make things difficult..” Caira muttered and began unraveling her plan, which had suddenly struck her as she got a glimpse of the dead men’s car, still rolling slightly forward and into the sea of scorpions.

At this point though, she had to stop them, for they were plowing through the distraction as though they were a river over a stone. Caira’s palm pressed the horn, and the ungodly sound radiated across the dunes. She spun doughnuts in the sand, and made herself into a greater distraction than she had already. She ran over a few, which didn’t do much, because of their armor, and then took to the head of the raging pack.

They traveled forward, at what her speedometer called ’30 MPH’ headed for town, as meanwhile, their venomous tails targeted her tires, hating the frequency of the sound that was produced by her jeep. She needed to lead them off-course. Anything to buy time.

But despite her hopes to lead them astray, they wouldn’t take the bait, even at the incessant howl of her car’s horn. It was time for plan B. Caira took the wheel in one hand, pressed her foot with the other, and focused all she could on summoning. This was difficult, more of a challenge than she had faced in a long time, because she had to summon this while she was driving, and also, while her car was dodging the scorpions at top speed. The same scorpions that were trying to kill her, and take out her wheels at the same time.

Aside from that, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to, given that she was in a moving vehicle. But slowly the shape of a giant tub appeared to take form, before weighing heavily on the car’s back seat and causing her to need to gently lay into the accelerator again.

More sand from beneath her tires flew into the air, while her jeep slowly lost its speed to friction in the sand. Caira’s stomach clenched as the creatures began to gain on her once more. Her head dodged quite a few tails, and she was even forced to draw her sword and slice one of the pincers off. But enough was enough, and luckily, Caira knew what she was coming up on.

On the horizon, and growing quickly, was a mass of land and rock, one mountain with a single crevice split between it. One that would give her the advantage she needed to defeat these beasts so they could never kill again.

She almost wanted to yell at them to stop now, so that she would not have to witness, and cause, the carnage that she had planned. The stampede continued to roll over the flat dunes and left a cloud of dust raised in the air behind them, as Caira watched through her rear and side view windows.

“Think you can manage to pull the plug on that thing?” Caira spoke to the lizard, who was already on it as she drove the jeep straight into the mouth of the mountain.

It was as if she was driving through a dried up riverbed. There were cliffs and walls of rock lining the entire way of about forty feet high. The sides of the jeep sparked against the rock as she made her way through the narrow byway, the stampede was hot on her heels, and would soon overwhelm her. Meanwhile, the “glug.. glug... glug” of the emptying jug could be heard as the smothering scent of gasoline reached her nose as the iguana had loosened the cap of the jug, and a steady stream poured out and filled the crevice with the liquid acid. The path became more narrow, and the Jeep finally lurched to a stop, as she was thrown nearly right through the windshield.

Caira waited, she wanted to make sure that enough if not all of them had made it into the crevice. A few crawled overhead, and she skewered them with her sword, bursts of goo leaked out and splashed on her. Next, she grabbed the iguana and climbed over the convertible’s windshield and leaped from the hood of the car.. She put well past ten feet of distance between her and the jeep and then took one of her daggers from her hips and lobbed it high in the air. It streaked in an arch across the sky, much resembling the smooth trajectory of an arrow, before it made its easy decline.

As the dagger clashed with the ground, it ignited, on target, into the still streaming pool of gasoline. Caira had under a second to dive behind a little mound of rocks before the blaze of heat ignited with a blast of energy throughout the entire crevice, which acted as a funnel for the sheer force of the power, and scalded anything in its path.

The rocks of the entire mountainous structure were left scalded and charred black. The last of the heat was sucked up with the air, and disintegrated in the air far above. Meanwhile, the scent of burnt ... creature, flashed to her nose with the same sharpness of the peculiar scent. It smelled as though someone had left the food in the oven for far too long.


Caira opened her eyes, and then dared to peek out over the rock, only to see the jeep in ruins, and the carcasses of many of the scorpions that had been in the stampede. The heat still crackled in their bug-ly flesh as it burnt and simmered the last of their remains.  

The revolting scent lingered until she was well out of that eerie canal. But the good news for her, was that she had not been bothered by any of the other bandits, who may have witnessed the explosion from afar, or survived the experience in a similar way she had. The iguana squirmed from her arm, and mounted her hover board once more. The crystal glowed as the lizard spoke, “A hundred scorpions in one fell swoop.... You called it pretty damn close.”


...

It was a cold night, and Caira was still trudging on through the sand, on foot. She was tired, and didn’t think she had the strengths or will of mind to summon any form of transport at the time. If you remember correctly, she hadn’t slept for at least three days now, minus the brief nap that she was awoken, in her opinion, far too early for her liking.

She groaned, the stars shimmered in the night sky high above her. Caira’s muscles were fatigued and the stress of the chase had both taken a lot out of her, and the dry, bleakness of the desert had worn her out. The chill of the desert wasn’t helping either. She was shivering, all over, as her body tried to regulate the heat. During the explosion part of her suit had been broken, particularly the part that had helped to actually maintain her heat. It was just her luck. But she was sure Karn had it worse.

He clung to the hover board that slowly propelled off the ground and it seemed that even the gentle wind struck into his bones like an icy fire. “Karn, I’m not sure I can do this anymore.. I need to take five.” Caira said to the lizard.

“FINALLY. I’ve been waiting for you to say that for hours.” his blue crystal glowed brightly in the night.

“Well,” Caira sighed, “I wanted to put as much distance between the Bandits and scorpions as possible.”

“This has been a long and perilous journey,” Karn stated, “I see all that you have endured in your eyes, Ayryn.”

Shimmering violet in the night, they flicked to him, fascinated, though beaming weakly as she stumbled to a clumsy fall in the sand. She laid there and looked up at the stars. She was untouched for a while by the ice of the sand, because her body was so numb with fatigue. Her eyelids weakly laid open. Her journey back was not as easy, but it had gone by a lot quicker. By what Caira could tell, she was almost near the town.

Her eyes closed in the darkness as she dreamed of finally sleeping in a bed...


...

Low rumblings shook the sand below her. Caira’s eyes burst open in fear. It felt like she had been asleep for only a blink, and her body groaned and protested in anguish when she tried to rouse herself awake and sit upright.

Her first thought was of betrayal - since it had happened so recently before- but when she got her bearings, she found that the lizard had curled in a ball next to hear, trying to take advantage of her body heat so that he would not freeze to death. Karn too, was awoken by the disturbance, and Caira’s eyes shook as the fog of her breath clouded her vision. The tip of her nose felt like a hard chunk of ice. It was probably well below freezing, and it may have worked out for the better, that she had not fallen to the charms of sleep, and went into a hypothermic coma, fated to death in the dunes.

The rumblings grew closer. They had a basic pace, one after the next, “thump thump... thump thump...” Caira’s eyes grew wide as she went for her sword.

Over a small dune, the figure emerged. Through the darkness of midnight, it’s silhouette bent the space around it. It was translucent, and in the shape of a mighty lion, surpassing at least ten feet in height, much taller than the army of scorpions she had burnt to a crisp.

And it bounded over the crest of the small hill and seemed to be heading straight for her. The best way she could describe it, was as a huge shadow lion. Some sort of ghostly beast, and she remembered what Merik had said about it it as it charged, that it was one of the most feared predators of the dunes. It could kill even a powerful prime in an instant.

Caira gulped and the beast lunged closer, its claws, though translucent, dug up clumps of dirt and threw them in the air behind him. Its mane swayed with its momentum, and its eyes glowed a pale blue, full of rage and distraught emotion. Caira felt the onset on carnage and braced for the beast’s impact, as her sword was held up, gleaming, and ready to spear the lion. Her grasp was unsteady, her frozen fingers would not wrap around the hilt of the sword with enough strength to even take on the beast and give her half of a chance.

Before she would try to do such a thing, and while her hands were both shaking from fear and the cold night air, she decided that the beast deserved a chance. Should she kill a beast, or even attempt to harm it, when in its eyes, SHE was the one doing wrong? On these dunes, even the humans were territorial. Not to mention even the most fiercest beast had struggles. Such as fighting off the cannibals that roamed on his land.

Caira felt such empathy for the beast, and the wildness in its eyes, she laid down her sword. It was tossed several feet from her and its cold steel lay limp on the stand. Instead, the prime extended her hand, which now glowed with a similar determination in her eyes. Light shimmered and sprung forth as Caira warned the beast in a clear yell, “Stay back, or I will have no choice but to fight you.”

Her voice carried strong and willfully over to the lion’s ears, his eyes still flared with rage, and Caira wondered if she even had the strength to back up her threat. The lion’s pace faltered for a moment, but it’s momentum did not heed. Caira was forced to fire her immobilizing magic, as stars sprung forth from the palm of her hand, and she traced a pattern into the air. Glowing rope appeared around the beast and coiled around him, binding his legs until he could no longer move.  

Upon the sand the mighty cat thrashed and his jaws, which were not bound, snarled and frothed with such tremendous force. It seemed, because of the nature of the magic, that the robe was burning him. Wisps of smoke simmered from his transparent flesh, and the shadowy figure released a roar like no thunder, and like all the thunder, she had ever heard. It was monumental, it called the land below her feet to shudder and quake, and the lion drew in another broken breath as though if it were to be his last, it would be his best and most powerful.

Echoes and reverberations of his roar could be heard across the dunes, while Caira’s eyes widened as she realized the suffering and torture her magic was causing. It would’ve been better, perhaps, had she struck him with the sword. The sword! Her eyes caught a glimpse of the silver sliver, and she dove to grab it, before wielding it over the beast threateningly. The beast noticed as the blade fell down upon him, but when he expected pain, there was only the fading of it.

She had cut his robes, because the light infused in them, was his kind’s mortal enemy. Had Caira hesitated, or waited even a second longer, the beast would be dead, faded into oblivion and never to be seen again. Yet, this was not so, and freedom had come unexpectedly so.

Caira stood tall as the sword was held drooping in her hands. She was in no condition to fight, and she was panting heavy now.

The mighty lion rose, as his shadowy dark skin was lined with the burns, which soon faded from a smoldering shade of red, into the air once more. The lion deemed the girl no longer a threat, and seemed to forget her as he shook off the pain and discomforts, nobly the lion stood proud once more.

Caira became dizzy once more, and fell to a single knee, before mustering the last of her sapping strength to look up at the beast once more.

The lion, now that it had taken its time to shake off its own dishonor, now regarded the girl. Its eyes were softer, and it’s purpose no longer set on killing her, though she was a trespasser on his domain.

It seemed, on the ground next to the lion were the last fragments of glowing, disintegrating rope. The girl continued kneeling, while the lion made of shadows looked upon her. The girl’s empathy for the lion and his pain had been powerful enough so that she had not so much as hesitated to save his life, though, he could have easily rushed at her and ended her singular life, though her existence was immortal. He looked deeply in her eyes, as though judging her strengths, weaknesses, and even her character. Something that startled the lion was that he saw himself in her eyes. While Caira, could easily relate to a being who had a code and stuck to it, she assumed he must have seen the same in her.

His eyes narrowed, and he bent down to sniff her head. As he did this, a gust of warm air breathed on her. The being, though it bore features akin to a ghost, was very much alive.

To the mighty lion, a beast of a very simple, and rational set of rules, one he -like a knight- had devoted his life to. Dedication like that was hard to come by, in just any beast. But everyone had a code of living, even the most powerful monsters had a nature, whether it was cruel, evil, chaotic, just, or good.

More action came than either the lion, or the girl, were expecting, as suddenly, Caira saw movement hastily lunge from behind the lion. A big, black creature had darted out, and under the faded moonlight, Caira could see the sleekness of its form, the shimmering gleam of shell in the darkness, and its dim shadow cast over the ripples of sand.

The creature’s pincer darted toward the lion’s flank. His ears twitched an in an instant, the entire tail had been ripped out by a set of massive jaws. Thrown off to the side, the lion had risked a pinch from one of its claws, the scorpion held on tight, while the lion merely growled at the pain and wretched as his jaws fell on the creature’s shell, and with enough pressure, a loud “SNAP!” was heard as a corresponding crack resulted in the scorpion’s hand breaking right off.

The last one had penetrated into the lion’s silky lack of flesh. It still held the shadow tangibly, but it was nowhere near what violent roars she had heard when the light of the rope became like acid on his flesh. A weakness of light, Caira determined and would have raised her sword to fight along side the mighty beast, had she had any strength left. And the lion used the attachment of the scorpion’s claw to his advantage. He swung the creature into the sand, its many legs still crawling and squirming, as the lion’s mighty fist bore down and delivered a final blow.

The world was turning cold to the girl, but more shapes appeared over the hill of sand, and the lion took every enemy down one by one. He quickly adapted to the chinks in the insects armor, and it became as easy as batting a paw in the right area, to slay the unworthy foe.

Caira lost sight of this though, her eyes would not stop blinking, the dark veil that her eyelids brought to the scene left the entire battle with only sound and her imagination. Weak and weary, Caira could barely keep track of the blurred images her eyes were only half-open for. Before she knew it, she lay on the translucence of his back, and was carried safely by the lion of shadows and toward the direction of the town.


....

Karn had managed to get stashed in her bookbag -along with her favorite hover board- and had managed to hitch the same ride as the girl. She slept on the shadow beast’s back until dawn, during which, his form suddenly turned to shadow, and disintegrated, leaving a lingering promise on her sword. The girl blinked as she looked down at it and noted the subtle tint it had left on her blade. The important part of this, to her, was that it could have been so very easily, the lion’s blood.

The heat bore down on her like that of a fire, while the sand spun in the air, rustled only by a low, heated breeze. Caira continued to walk, as she fished out her compass and expected the dial to have turned. Merik was there, she determined, her eyes narrowed with anger.

The girl trudged on and on.

[Caira Ayryn]

A Fistful of Fire

She neared the town, once again weary from the heat of the desert. It all hung over her shoulders. The brazen sun’s infinite rays, the peril of battle, the strife and still shock she actually had made it.

The traveler went into a small saloon as she searched for a place to stay the night. When she had last been here, it looked so different and now, it was all so distant. As the knight stepped through the wooden doors she recognized a familiar figure. Merik’s gold hair shimmered at the light while his red eyes bobbed on the bartender, but in the saloon he was minding his own business, for the most part. Caira couldn’t help herself. She charged him, felt her body lunge in, powering her fist as he turned his head at the noise but it was too late, he hadn’t expected her still bruised and blood-smeared fists to reach his nose so quickly.


Just before his figure collapsed to the nearby wall, their unnaturally colored eyes both met. I should kill you. But to a Prime, death would mean nothing. Her overwhelming fury poured from every tensed muscle in her body, from her crunched fist to the scalding, aggressive posture that she had taken on. Crimson lines streamed from his nose, and an imprint of her fist had added a nice decoration of color to his face. A person murmured, or perhaps it was Merik’s muffled voice whom questioned her survival, “Why-” are you alive? is what it sounded like he would ask her, or perhaps he questioned how broken his nose was, as he with his back leaned against the wall and his knees propped him up from the dusty floorboards. Caira was both senseless, and somehow aware of every movement - or lack of - in the entire room, as her seething eyes glowed with the dark element of wrath.

“I didn’t take a stroll through the desert, TWICE, get buried alive, and fight off an army of scorpions from invading this town NOT to punch you in the face.” she said almost shouting and then turned her back to him dusting off her fragile fist. “Don’t forget my name Merik. And won’t make the same mistake twice.” she began to stroll out of the bar, but forgot that her purpose on entering. She needed a room.

Her shameless eyes fell on the bartender, “Got a room for the night available?” whom had a rifle aimed between her eyes. Her eyelashes flashed open, and quivered at the snout of the steel machine.

“Don’t try it missy,” he said as his mustache crumpled his words.

“A room..?” she began again, perhaps he hadn’t heard her, but she hadn’t meant to demean him, nor cause trouble. Her eyes swept the room, all eyes were on the out-of-place, female Prime.

“Not for you.” he ushered her from his saloon and told her not to start trouble there again.

The classic half doors slapped behind her.

“Georgie, comeon’ why didn’t you give her a room, plenty other’ customers have killed men in here and you always say they was fine as lon’ as their tabs ‘ere paid.” A man asked who was not too unfamiliar with spending his days, and his loot, at the bar.

Georgie didn’t look amused, “That there, was an angry woman. Probably had a bad day... Hell, it looks like she ha’ a bad week maybe she even went to Hell and back again! She coulda’ done much more with him had she wanted to,” he pointed to the now knocked out Merik, whose nose was being tended to by a pair of women in revealing corsets. His anonymity among bandits, had served him well. “I don’ like to tempt fate Tom, that woman had scorn in her eyes and I’ll be damned if my shop blows up because of it. Don’ ye remember that one lady? Blonde hair, blue eyes, had that old man with ‘im? Blew up an entire street and tha’ put em’ back for weeks. Some of these Primes these days are more a’ threat than their business is worth.”

“But Georgie,” Tom, the same onlooker that had spoken before, but added another drink of liquid courage down his gizzard, “She’s a hero if she saved the town from an army Scorpions! Who knew how big they were gettin’ to be in the desert out there.”

Georgie gave him a hard look, the deep set man flexed his mustache with a look of distinct anger, “There ain’t no heros in this town...”

No one in the bar associated the girl that had come storming in with a scraggly face and only scraps of attire left hanging off of her, with the infamous Legend of Ayryn. Though the knowledge of the Ayryn’s mostly rumoured triumphs had spread some, the remaining bandits of the mountains had learned to fear her and had every reason to be wary of where she trod. She hadn’t been defeated yet, and the gangs of bandits had sought to send her to the Underverse to keep her from stirring trouble and death in their domain, only making the name grow. This time, it was associated with the intrusion of their turf. A threat that must be stopped. Rumors became warnings to those who had something worth taking, and a name out here had more power than the myth surrounding it.

Meanwhile the indurated Caira sighed and was once again subjected to the heat, people spit in front of her -not out of disrespect, but whatever gunk had been blackening their teeth for years- while some moved aside judging her by her tense expression, the smudges of dirt she hadn’t bothered to wipe from her face, and simply by the power of her her stance. The depth in her eyes had lead them to weigh her value by every scratch that remained unclean and visible through her heavily torn clothing. As if her pain had become a badge of honor.

Wooden doors swung closed with the wind that roamed the dusty street, and meanwhile one stayed open, she entered with a splotch of gunpowder on her cheek, but she could have cared less at that moment to fix her appearance after her many adventures across the waves of endless sand.

[Caira Ayryn]

Later.

“She won’t want to see my face,” Merik told Tom, whom convinced him to talk a little.

Tom chuckled, “Sure she will, she’ll want to gage the damage done.”

Merik, with his shiny purple nose glared, “Not funny.” The shadow of night that hung over his face made the swelling of his eye sockets more distinct.

“How can I not be? It seems to me like you screwed her over, I’m surprise’ she didn’t kill you. She must be a forgiving gal.” Tom was smirking.

“Hmph, she’s small.” Merik commented after a couple shots. He didn’t mean in size, and it wasn’t clear exactly to what he was referring.

Chintzy music played on a piano in the back round of their conversation. “Ya know, I didn’t believe it myselff until I escaped,” Merik said, his words began to grow staggered with time and the boundless effect of liquid courage.

The curious lad’s voice escaped with a higher tone, “Eh? Escaped where?”

“Dosesn’t matter...” he slurred, “But, I will say, I didn’t believe curses existed, at least, not attached to a person. I guess I’m my own proof eh?”

“I donno what you’re talkin’ about mister but if you tell ‘er that, she might feel better about what she said about you leaving her to die in the desert!” His reasoning was sound.

“Hah, I’d never say it to anyone’s face especially not hers, she’ll want to cure it, plus, she’ll toughen up. Thiss is the cruelest world there is, the Omniverse. Can’t die, without something interferin’ an’ ya can’t live without someone interferin’ and you certainly can’t survive without someone screwing you over.”

“But, if you had to, how do ya’ absolve a curse?”

“Ain’t no way out of one once its cast, Tom.”

“You’re wrong about that stranger.” A voice bellowed from the shadows that had pooled in the corner of the tavern.

[Caira Ayryn]

Caira was later confronted with Merik, or perhaps the idea of him, much to her own dismay, especially after leaving the Town With No Name, and going to stay at Carrefour, despite how it wasn’t enough distance away from him. But then, even Camelot wouldn’t be far enough away from that scoundrel.

She smiled and sipped her hot coffee with the eyes of her old friends watching. They had the same faces as when she had left. She however, came back, only to look in the mirror and only be able to recognize her silvery purple eyes. She blinked, as though to wipe away the assumed crumbs of sand in them, but the face remained, pale, hardened, and unknown.

While the three ate dinner, there was a bit of silence that hung around the room. The dynamic was tense, as though they now had reason to fear her. They were still kind and welcoming people, but after so long, one can tell to see the look in people’s eyes. Especially the more helpless types, such as civilians who had no combat training, and only kept the musket on the wall above the fireplace in case of a home invasion.

Yes, they were afraid.

Caira, or Ayryn, whoever she was now, had felt the urge to break the silence, but was reluctant to do it without meaning. The tone of her voice, she funneled it in her throat before opening her lips, preparing so as not to sound harsh, or insensitive. She was still herself, even if the desert had changed her. Daniels tensed as though he knew she was going to say something, his eyes staggered over to her, he was a strong-willed man, and the scrapes of forks against their plates still fell on her highly tuned ears. Their eyes exchanged wordlessly for a good moment, before Caira blinked, and said the only words that would absolve her pain, “You were right.”

Tears dribbled past her chin and dripped on her meal of mashed potatoes, steak, and corn. His wife, Patty, compassionately placed a hand on Caira’s back, while Daniels just nodded, and spoke, “You did what you had to.”

...

Caira went back into the same saloon the day after, and was about to confront Georgie to find out Merik’s whereabouts. While she hadn’t decided yet why, she felt the need to ask. He might’ve even been up stairs, had she had the chance to actually ask.

A voice at the back table of the bar was telling his story, and had Caira not been so traumatized by the entire scape of her mission across the dunes, she might have recognized it.

“Yessiree it sure did happen, and then, the girl, like she was readin’ my mind, asked me all sorts of questions. When I answered I told her that ‘e was a criminal, and didn’ deserve to ‘scape and ever see the light of day again. If we had more men, we would be able to banish the goddarn bastard. But, it’s all done and over with now, but m’ name is in the paper.” A younger man, too drunk to put an ounce of hazard into what he was saying, babbled to his friend. “And now I’m outta work.”

“That’s a mighty big mouth ya got there boy. You outta learn to keep stories like that un’ private.” An old stranger warned, his tone cross by the idea of an escaped villain Prime on the lose and set free into the sand.

“I ain’t lying sir, she almost killed me!” he protested, and stood up swiftly outta his chair, only to wobble and woozle back down to four sturdy legs.

The old man’s voice was gruff and grisly, “I never told ye tha’ you was a liar, I just told you to shut yer trap.”

“I know youss don’t believe me, but I got the newspapah right... Here.” The boy pulled the paper out of his britches, and made all sorts of crumpling noises, enough to fill the whole bar and capture everyone’s attention.

“Now’s what are you doin’ back ‘ere again lassy?” Caira was about to ask the bartender about Merik, when the sound of crackling paper interrupted her voice.

The title of the paper, front page, read in big, bold letters Fool Tells Tale of Escaped Prisoner. He held it up for the whole bar to see, and grinned wide enough to reveal a few empty spaces he had lost to scurvy. “Y’see, its right there! I...Ain’ no liar... Nosirreee.”

“I’ve had about enough of you, boy.” the old man growled. A last warning before the bull showed his horns.

The young man was about to sit back down, with the incessant begging of his friend, when, just by chance, his eyes fell on the figure closest to the door, in front of the bar. He audibly gasped, and his eyes widened. He still held up the newspaper with one hand, while his other pointed at the girl at the front, “Why, IT’S HER!” His exasperated shout, almost fearful, filled the bar. It was followed by a gunshot, loud and silencing. The lead had made a small hole right through the headline he still held up, and found its mark.

“I had just about had enough o’ him.” the old man had surmised, while the body fell to the ground with a thick but hollow thud. “Then when he pointed at the lady who’d jus’ walked in the bar, shoutin’ in all ‘is nonsense at ‘er I jus’ couldn’t help m’self.”

The piano player had stopped for a moment, until the old man who had shot him dead, took another swig of his ale. The story had been accepted, and the music kept on playing, while the man’s slumped over body laid motionless, and his thick blood dribbled to the floor. Ironically, the young man had been shot through his own newspaper -if one looked close enough, he would see that the hole that the lead had left directly fit in the center of the word fool’s o.

Caira seemed startled, and was suddenly on edge. Had he said any more... Maybe they would have realized it was the truth. Caira made up an excuse to leave the bar immediately, she felt sick almost staying, and didn’t like looking at the young man’s friend, who had now stained his hands in his pal’s warm blood. It didn’t seem like the lad blamed her, but only because the old man’s story had checked out. It was assumed the woman couldn’t stand the sight of blood, but now, the guilt had taken hold and began to eat away at her bones.

Each thought was painful as it gnawed away underneath her ivory skin. She gulped, pondering to herself that she outta send good ol’ Merik back into that jail, he could stay there, or maybe, she would even take it upon herself to do what the other’s hadn’t done, and banished the bastard. But she would not, and could not find it within herself to do so. A blink, and she remembered what tragedies he had endured. It was like he was cursed. Darkness and evil all surrounded him. His soul perhaps, needed amending.

But he was her responsibility, she had freed him. Just like she had freed Magus. A second red-eyed demon flashed before her eyes. Both she had battled, and both men, both Primes she had freed. She was now responsible for any and all deaths that they caused. Yet that poor man in the bar back there, any color that had flushed to her face now slowly trickled and drained away, he had died. His death was her own fault.

She gulped.

...
Tom approached, and though Merik hadn’t shown up with Tom, he seemed determined to tell Caira of Merik’s current misfortune. “Miss,” with her eyes, she was unmistakably the girl who he had traversed the desert with, “Excuse me miss, I just wanted to say that Merik didn’t mean to leave you... In the desert, that is.”

The Prime rolled her eyes and stepped away from the annoying reminder of Merik, but took a moment of pleasure as she imagined his smashed face hadn’t healed yet. “Yeah, sure. Just like he didn’t mean to trap me in a coffin and slowly kill me. Do you have any idea what starving to death as a Prime is like?”

Of course he didn’t, her eyes fell over the youth’s innocent face. Tom was no Prime, and has a lot to learn. She carefully observed him now, he looked like a farmer. Could this be the boy Daniels had been taking in?

He persisted. “I know you think he’s a traitor, but I wanted you to know that he didn’t do it intentionally.”  

“What? How do you-” She closed her lips that were about to spout words of anger and outrage, “You don’t honestly expect me to believe that, do you? He left me not only to die but he buried me alive. You mean to say he did that by accident?”

“He had to.” Tom was convinced.

“If he had to, why isn’t he here apologizing? I didn’t hear him even mumble a sorry through that broken nose I gave him.” She thought of the sensation on her knuckles, the cracking of his bone on her fist.

“But that’s just it miss, he’s got a curse on his ‘ead.” Tom persisted.

“Tch. I don’t give a pittance.” she said with a shout, this was turning out to be a miserable conversation. “Anyway as far as I’m concerned he did me a favor. Why don’t you tell him that next time you see him?”

“Can’t.” Tom’s eyes read, that’s what this conversation was about. Caira recoiled, but part of her wanted to hear him out.

The Prime was repulsed by his one word response and attempted to shrug Tom’s presence off, but Tom had honest, genuine, blue eyes and looked up to her in his sixteen year old youth. With a sigh the Prime asked, “Why not?”

“He’s gone to the Pale Moors. He thinks that he has find a way to un-curse ‘imself.”

“And you think differently?”

“Miss Ayryn, ‘e had one of them looks in his eye, not sure you’ll understan’ but he looked like he was gonna challenge a vampire and welcome his death.” A shadow fell over Tom’s face, while his earnest eyes shimmered.

“He’s a Prime, I’m sure he will survive.” Caira reasoned, the angry part of her almost thirsted at the revenge.

“But at what cost? And who knows what those dark-types are capable of? All monsters, murderers, especially for Primes, there are worse things than death. Not to mention he’s got a crazy notion about loosing his curse by gaining another.” Tom was pleading now.

“That’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard. I’m from Camelot, been to Dalaran, There’s no way a curse can absolve another curse. It could take out some of the negative effects it has, but it will always remain unless someone breaks it.” Tom’s eyes widened with hope at this new knowledge. “What exactly do you want me to do about it?” She said, her own curiosity feeding into Tom’s plea, the hardness the desert had cast on her heart began to soften.

“I’d like to hire you, as I’ve heard him call you a bounty hunter. Bring him back here alive, or at least save him from that place.” From himself. Tom was grasping at straws now, he should know better than to make a deal out of desperation.

“I don’t like to tempt fate Tom, I almost died last time I dealt with the prick. Second time and I might get banished.” She said with sound reasoning, but parts of her now pleaded with Tom too. Plus, he was her responsibility.

“Please, I don’t have a lot of money but-” His eyes spoke better than any words he could have used to convince her, suddenly it occurred to Caira that Merik wouldn’t just tell just anyone about his life story or where he was going. Even if he had a death wish. Tom took off his hat and fanned his forehead from the heat and she glimpsed at the familiar resemblance of blonde hair, though Tom’s clung to his head damp with sweat. Caira sensed and recognized the vibrations of the ruby beetle in his pocket, what would probably become a family heirloom. Merik was in that jail ten years, long enough for a toddler that was his to grow into a young man.

“Tch. I don’t want your money.” Tom’s face now cringed, fearing what she had decided, ”Do you know what he told me? Before leaving me to die in the desert?”

“No, I.. suppose not..” Tom whimpered.

“He told me not to make the same mistake twice. You want me to follow him, after his helpful words of advice, and get trapped in a coffin again?” Caira warned, but she too had made up her mind.

“If I hire you-” Tom had now began to look crestfallen and Caira couldn’t believe she had already made a decision, not to mention, the wrong one.

“I won’t do it for your money.” Her voice was stable with resolve. Tom’s expression mirrored only devastation, until Caira continued, “But maybe, I’ll do it for the satisfaction of punching him in the face again.” With her delivered words, a smile grew, and watched as Tom’s expression resurrected with the news.

“When did he leave?” Caira asked.

“He left ... A month ago.” Tom said finally.

“What?! I haven’t even been back for a few days. And I saw him a week ago!” an exasperated voice could be heard from her lips.

“Yes but that don’t account for the fact that it takes time to travel between the Verses, and that there might be a delay.” Tom offered without guilt, he was relieved that Caira had taken the job. And for free! Not that the poor farmer had much money to offer the girl. He would have probably paid her in what Caira now assumed Merk, his unknown dad, had given him before he left. The ruby beetle.

“I guess I’m a little late on the draw, then.” she spoke in the terminology that Tom was so well familiar with, as the holster on his side, there for two reasons, survival and precaution, glinted in the light and he ended up shrugging his shoulders and hoped she would get on her way, and find Merik before it was too late.

Caira took a moment to drink in a deep, satisfying breath, as though bracing herself for what was to come. After the moment, her eyes, now fierce with determination flashed to him. “You’re sure he said he went to the Pale Moors?”

He nodded eagerly. He would have staked his life on it.

“Alright then.” Caira’s eyes held lasting on him for a moment. The two weren’t far apart in age. And Merik didn’t age. She swished the ideas in her mind before she caught onto the bewildered look in his eye. Her own expression was masked by a depth that looked beyond her dirty face and high cheekbones, he had nothing to lose and had been wanting to ask her a question, or so Caira had assumed. After so much time had passed in their staring contest, she finally said, “Well, what is it?”

“How is it... That the weaknesses... The kindness you show and act on, even though you know of the danger, are somehow your strengths?” The question’s burden was passed to her now.
For a moment, the female thought about the question at hand, a deep, flash of analysis shook her at the core, before realizing that she herself had an obligation to answer Tom’s question. She debated taking off on his horse right then and there, but her thoughts succumbed to her own curiosity, she wanted to answer with truth.

“Tom, what you’re asking about is courage. And me? Quite frankly, I don’t have much to lose.” Now. “Also, I suppose.. That strength isn’t always about how hard you can punch a wall, while you expect it to crumble to the ground. But you have to ask yourself, whether or not you have to punch it in the first place.”

“Whoa, you can punch walls?! Thank ya, miss Ayryn.” Tom bowed courteously as she left at top speed on her hoverboard, blowing a wave of dust and sand over his old Texas boots.

Patty and Artie Daniels had watched it all through a window, as Caira vanished over the boy’s shoulder. They smiled a bit, together, a knowing smile. Knowing more truth than either Tom or Caira. They were the ones who had told Tom that it might be a good idea to hire the young girl, not only for Tom to have a chance at reconciling, or at least meeting his father, but for Caira, who was still haunted by the ghosts of her past.


“Come on inside, Tom. Staring at the sand won’t help her find him.”