Uncharted

[Caira Ayryn]

Part Seven: Flameless Dunes

“Cairaahh! I’m beginning to think that you have some very, very bad luck.” Merik exclaimed with a scowl as they raced away from the threat of danger, the incisive outlaws were left in the dust and rubble to loiter with the barren terrain and occasional tumbleweed.

“Hm? Why? I think we got away nicely and we didn’t even have to hurt them!” Her smile widened as the cold night air splashed into her lungs and fluffed up her hair so that it looked much like the rumbling steed’s mane that lifted with speed whirling below her.

Merik rolled his eyes, and considered his still tender palm, “Yeah but-”

“Besides, I don’t believe in luck.” She stated matter-of-factly and the distance between the outlaws continued to grow, while the light from the transport and camp was no longer seen on the hue of the horizon.

“Hmph. Well I do, plus I think you have some really crappy luck.” Merik's voice pricked at her.

“That’s just because you’re...” She stopped herself from finishing the sentence that might come off as vindictive.

“I’m... What?” He parroted back with an unamused look on his face that was disrupted as his hair too, fluttered in the light of the night. Merik thought he knew the last word, that hung on her lips. Cynical he had heard it before, and the echo of a memory fogged his mind.

“Well, you’re not exactly the kind of person I would expect to-” Wait. There was no light at night and the full moon had passed, so what was she looking at? Caira’s eyes drifted to the horizon-line in search of what had made Merik’s blonde hair appear so bright. Unfolding before them as the dunes seemed to glow and glitter, alit with fire against the starless navy sky. “Merik, what is that...?” Her voice was etched with as sharp fear that began to grow.

“What is what?” His eyes followed her gaze and his expression suddenly contorted before hardening in the face of untold adversity. “That’s your luck.”

...