Uncharted

[Caira Ayryn]

Chapter One: Wall of Sand, A Fated Arrival

Perhaps the remnants of the Copper Eye had seen her coming. Then again, perhaps not. She remembered what it had felt like and all that she had seen. Glimpses in the darkness, a shadow immediately upon her. Touching the empty depth was the heavy lethargy of paralysis that had settled in her bones with a single prick on her neck. It was something she had never before experienced, a forlorn sickening sensation of her own inescapable fate.

Arms strained. No movement resulted no matter how much effort she put into motivating her muscles. Meanwhile Caira tried to sort it all out. The Prime hadn’t physically seen her captors but from their footsteps there were about six of them, she could sense their individual physiques through the vibrations in the ground but it was difficult to juggle with the overwhelming deluge she combatted before she succumbed to the inescapable shadow of her subconscious.

Suffocation, fear, trepidation broke out underneath the black cotton bag that served as a blinding layer over her face. Assumption was the only thing she had to go off and even she didn’t know enough about her abductors to suspect precisely who it was that had wanted to exile her from Coruscant and banish her to the outlying verses. They probably had assumed she was a Camelot spy.

Though they had left her attire intact, her weapons intact, if they really had wanted to hurt her, they would have. Why had they done this?

The female wiggled out of the poorly wrapped bag that encased her head, ruffling-up her braided hair, her eyes quickly adapted to the instant suffusion of light that seared into her pale skin.

”A.. Desert?”

Her pale eyes glazed over the edges of dune that rose and fell like paraded mountains and in the distance seemed to ebb away from her like soft waves. The Prime took it in all at once - the heat, the light, the empty sound of wind on the drifting sand. She quickly rose to a stand but found her senses muddled as she collapsed into a broken kneel. The paralysis was still in effect. If only slightly. She heaved in a breath of arid desert air and let the determination fill her.

Straining herself and coughing in some sand, Caira’s eyes fixed on the rolling pursuit of a tidal wave that rose hundreds of feet in the air, casting the sun away in the shadows of the rainless storm. It was a steaming, rolling wall of sand bulldozing its way through, entrenching the placid terrain and eradicating the baby blue sky of its cloudless serenity.

The tsunami of niveous sand approached in the form of a colossal wall, ready to steamroll Caira into the dust below her feet. The tornado engulfed her and tore at her fastened stance upon the not-so-stable ground. The Prime acted quickly, using the bag they had put over her head and ripping it into a finely fashioned balaclava. Then, she placed her iconic sunglasses in the opening she had made. Small coarse pieces of sand scratched at the lenses, but her eyes were protected by the layer of shade which served as impenetrable goggles. There wasn’t much to see trapped inside the whirling cloud, specks of sand perpetuated at a strong force and bore themselves down at any stagnant moving part of her body. Painful scratches of wind tore through her new and rather thick attire like fragmented glass, leaving only her gauntlet arm, her balaclava and her socks untouched -yet completely covered in a thick coating of sand - as the woman found herself at the core of the noxious sandstorm.

What are the odds that the second I arrive, a great sandstorm appeared to make my day even better? The monk's spiteful thoughts reflected the creasing grimace beneath her covered visage.

Casting with the wind and somehow gravity remained grounding her, was her hefty cloak. She used it as a brace against the wind and sunk lower to the ground in an attempt to make some headway and brave the storm, because there was no where to burrow beneath. She would be smothered alive had she remained in the open. So the “sailing” girl didn’t have much time, she couldn’t let the sand collect else she would lose her bearings. In her jumbled, paralysis filled haze, she recalled the sun, it hung tilted in the sky if only for a moment East of where she faced. The approximate direction of the current of wind fluctuating within the condensed whirls of sand - and the very gale that had swept this storm in - might just lead her in the right direction. After all, it had carried a consistent sweep of sand from a steady direction. There was no other option, she would go against the storm because it was the only way for her to maintain a straight direction to anywhere.

Her steps became the endless monotony of her own pace. The strands of grueling sand and wind bore down as she continued to fight -one small step at a time- as the suffocating blizzard swallowed her whole. She consequently cut her cloak off, as at this point it was a disadvantage, and off was her last train of righteousness.

The gales cast granules everywhere, within her pockets, sheaths, and cavities of her hood. It nearly became too much for the young sorceress as she continued further, willpower now superseded the strength she had summoned. On the bright side, it had blown away the ghastly arid heat that had settled on the mounds of crumby sand.

This was an uphill battle, the direction she traveled could bring her to nowhere. It could kill her, had the girl no faith. And when she arrived into whatever danger was waiting, her sore muscles would be so heavy with fatigue that no matter the obstacle, it could easily kill her.

It was a battle of the mind. Within it, she created thoughts of serenity, despite her current doubt of insanity, which sometimes brought more burden than motivation as she could be trapped in this sandstorm until death. Gasping, heaving, and steading breaths suffered and smothered her beneath the brazen bag. Time hung over her shoulders with a dauntingly infinite weight, haunting her most recent memories, and effecting every sense that gradually awakened from its dormant slumber.

“This is... One way to wake a girl up.. And yet whoever did this, didn’t kill me. I guess it’s because they can’t. Primes can’t die.” she told herself, “But, they could have put me in the Underverse if they really wanted me gone..." She voiced out loud so she would not have to hear the endless white noise roar in her ears. Before shouting, "Why am I here?” at the wall of sand and the constraints of her tortured screams were muffled by the sound of sand that shrieked her own cries back at her as the wind tore into her bones.

The Prime traveled in the hourglass, as time continued to thieve away every one of her breaths.

The braid she had wrapped whipped her shoulders in the wind; when her feet would idle too long, small piles of sand would accumulate on the tops of her boots in hefty mounds. Caira was glad she hadn’t maintained her position and attempted to wait it out, with this weather, there would be a mountain of sand to mark her somberly nameless tombstone.

“The storm came from my left. I know I must be heading towards something.” her voice howled against the chaos. To affirm her sense of direction there were littered glimpses of color that Caira had caught of a fluttering tapestry. Footsteps and fatigue were the only tools she had for measuring how far she had come; if someone had attempted to calculate the time she spent battling that storm, and her arrival to the Town With No Name, they would find that it took about five hours for Caira to finally stumble into the eye of the storm.

The chill of dusk settled with the dimming of the storm but with its fading turmoil, she saw a dense mound of darker color on the horizon. “Civilization!” she said weakly and fumbled quickly towards it, tripping over into her dense enervated feet and collapsing into a face full of sand. She ripped off the balaclava and crawled toward the shadows of buildings, still grasping the hems of her cloak she gritted her teeth to match the edge of the still grueling storm.

The sand beneath her toes started to shift and she nearly tumbled to the ground again, indicating the incline that she would have to face and continued to climb the collection of fresh dough that seemed to take a minute for every crawled 'step' she took to pack down the sinking granules beneath her.

The raging fury of wind had declined, while small fragments of sand still battered and pinched at her cheeks, as well as the other parts of her that showed naked windblown skin. With the brief idle of motion, immediately the immense weight of her lethargy clouded in her silver eyes, her body shuddered yet she had slowed her pace to that of a snail. Don’t stop, you aren’t there yet. Cai attempted to motivate herself and could have reached out her sleeved arm to motion that her goal was within her grasp. When her elbow thundered over a piece of metal that had been covered by the piles of sand, it was finely shaped into a sleek board, had an immense amount of sand upon it, yet it had amplified a slight vibration to its core.

Can it be? The wanderer immediately recognized her hover board, which her captors must have sent askew from her, set off in any miscellaneous direction, so she could not use it to free herself of the trudging, grueling heat of the desert. Torturous intent indeed.

The board's mechanisms had died out here, just before the town and on its outskirts. It wasn’t much use to her now, but she had it in her possession, and with it, she would have one final push as she strapped the board on her back and crawled onward, fingertips clawing into the last stretch of her life.

Caira saw the first bit of moonlight show in the shape of Omni’s crescent smile, but she was surprised after some careful observation to find that she was in the middle of the storm. Much like a hurricane, there was a large calm in the shape of a circle that seemed to surround the town, but the eye of eased winds were passing quickly as another wall of sand threatened to consume the town whole.

She tried not to think of the odds that she had actually found the board once set askew, whether it was chance or logic that her captors had used to send it off in a free direction, or if it was intentional that they sent it toward the town. Whatever group of uglies that had ‘exiled’ her, probably thought what she had just that: It wouldn’t be much use to her on the outskirts of town. Somehow had she stumbled upon it, and the grateful Prime held a prideful smile on her grimacing, wincing face. She held her prize triumphantly, like a turtle with a shell on its back and crawled through a covering and underneath tarp into shelter

At the spree of coincidence, defied, and Caira had found it, the Town With No Name.

...

Meanwhile, in the safety of a dugout on the edge of the boarded up town, some tarps hung to entrench the storm and brace the wind and sand, as piles of it pooled beneath due to the rapid air currents. Within, was a young guard about the age of thirteen, his front tooth was missing and he spoke to his partner who at least quadrupled his own age, “Say, how long you think this storm 'ill keep?”

“Oh, she’ll stay at it for at least another hour,” an old man’s voice wavered with wisdom, “But I’ll tell ya this, I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it before, ever since I fled the Empire in Coruscan'.”

“Really?” the kid chirped in a childish tone of shock and awe as he simply couldn’t contain his endless curiosity.

“O’ course. Usually they blow over within an hour and are much milder,” the older man rose to his feet. “Yes, something’s a’ comin’.” he spoke with a scowl as his fingers played with some fine linens.

“Like what?” the boy looked around with big brown eyes that brimmed with energy and hope as he took a quick peek outside at the rippling winds of sand.

“No, no lad! I meant metaphorically.” the geezer shooed him away from the filtered dust that entered their marquee.

“Huh? How’s that?” the boy tilted his head and turned back toward the guard.

“It means something isn’t actually coming, hell, no one would be stupid enough to be out in this storm. A metaphor. It means that in the future, perhaps the storm’s an omen of some sort- ” he cut off from his momentary analysis and explication when the excited boy jumped up ecstatically and interrupted his thought.

“I think you’re right! Somethin’ IS coming!” the lad’s eyes only grew wider.

“Ah yes, now, as I was sayin' the metaphor-” the guard nodded with his eyes closed, glad finally the lad had given him the attention his stories demanded and assumed his thoughtful expression as his eyebrows creased his sand-worn face.

“No, look here!” the boy pointed to a dense figure through the parted rugs of the makeshift tent, through the wall of sand and wind, enduring the fastest and most ruthless gales the dunes had been not known for many years.

The older man had to check his eyes as he scrubbed them free with his knuckles. He didn’t want a false alarm caused by the sand left in them from this nap earlier that day. The approaching figure certainly wasn’t raiders, but a single girl donned in black.

“Is that whose comin’?” the boy asked, the definition and explanation of a metaphor going over his innocent head.

The older man sighed with a smile, giving up hope for little Murad, “Yes.. I suppose it is.”

...

“When we saw you out there, we couldn’t believe it!” the man explained to the sand-covered woman whose clothes had amply deteriorated from the harsh wind.

The young boy protested, “I could! I could! We were jus’ talking about ya!”

Caira’s eyes fluttered in an attempt to stay open, she had collapsed in their dugout, grateful for the shelter it provided from the wind of the storm and borrowed a canteen of water. Her fingers had fumbled for it eagerly and she felt the coarse grains of sand underneath her fingernails and it caused her to wrinkle her nose in drowning distress. Yet, her curiosity was piqued when the boy mentioned her, “Hm? About me?” she inquired, suddenly suspicious as water dribbled down her chin and neck. After having her fill, she used the rest of it over her face, washing like a cool waterfall over her dust-coated skin. She shook off some of the droplets of water that had accumulated on her chin as the boy in strange garments continued.

“Yup, yer’ the metaphor.”

The old man put his palm to his forehead, all was lost. “What he means to say, is that we weren’t expecting any visitors, especially coming through this raging storm. We haven’t had one like this... Why.. since I was a young boy about Murad’s age here.” the geezer said with a sigh as he pat the boy’s back. Murad gleamed with invincible youth. The old man seemed slightly envious that youth was wasted on the young but didn’t have the heart to tell him of the idiom ‘curiosity killed the cat’ and as friendly as this desperate stranger was, she could still be dangerous to the town.

“So tell me of this place.” her tone echoed lowly, they were easy enough to talk to in her half fatigued state, though she could barely keep her eyes open enough to listen but her bones had settled and it felt as though her muscles were already settling into hibernation. Caira’s silver enervated eyes traced the friable walls, wondering if they were worthy of something so fleeting as safety. She didn’t mind the unsound integrity of the place -which was just a couple of simple tarps- as long as the ceiling didn’t cave-in due to the infinite wind and heavy pressure of heaping sand.

“I’m sorry to ask,” the old man whom seemed to age by the minute said, “But you didn’t know of this place before you ventured out into the dunes in this storm? It is unwise to, though perhaps you got caught in it, I just ain’t sure how you found yer’ way here completely blind.” his voice was accusatory, and he boldly stated his suspicions seeking answers or a confession from Caira, expecting her villainy to be admitted with a boast of triumphant pride.

“I really belled the cat out there didn’t I? But to explain, I knew nothing of this place when I was taken and deserted here without a choice, didn’t see my captors. Apparently I had enemies I didn’t know existed, though I only just arrived in the Omniverse a few months ago. They were capable of abducting me and putting me in the deser-” she stopped, suddenly her eyes narrowed.

“What is it, there somethin’ in yer eye?” the naive young boy said trying to figure her out.

Caira shook her head and continued, she supposed fatigued worked like a truth serum, as she didn’t have enough energy to be defensive or put up a good enough lie to make her seem like a more powerful Prime with limitless capabilities. “...Trapped me in the desert and conveniently enough, at the moment I awoke, this unnatural storm of sand swept me off my feet and I trudged a while before I got to this place. But I believe there is something to it after all.”

Faintly her eyes glimmered with a tired determination.

“What are ye' gonna do?” the old man asked, his eyes soon grew as eager as the youth’s as he was caught up in the mysticism of her story.

Though, maybe it was her lassitude talking, “I’ll give them exactly what they want. I’ll face the treacherous terrain!”

“What? No- its much too dangerous out there, even for a Prime.” the old man explained the bandits of the mountains and the creatures and cretins that dwelled in the great sea of the sand.

“And what of the horrors of the night?” Murad even looked concerned, knowing and recalling the scratching against the walls of his home as he slept by those creatures who had dwelled in the dark for far too long. Along with the horrible stories and rumors he would hear as people would almost never return after nightfall.

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think it was possible.” Caira’s eyelids slowly began to wink with sleep, “I’ll rest up and leave soon. If you’d find me a place with a bed I’d appreciate it.”

“Much obliged, little lady.” said the elder.

“Oh, and if you have a village doctor, I should wish to see him...Uh, Immediately...” she had barely finished her words before the triumphant posture of the girl crumpled into one of fatigue, unsupported under the weight of her nodding head.

[Caira Ayryn]

...

“Well, I couldn’ find no doctor, but ain’t no better healer in this town than my wife. Better than any charlatan I’ ever met.” The old man explained when he saw her eyes open for the first time in eighteen hours. “Meet Patty, she’s my sweetheart an’ she is taking a little dose right now, she took care of ya’ and didn’ leave your side fer an instant.”

“Ah, how long-” Caira rose from her flat position on the bed to a more alert one. Her stomach lurched into her throat as she felt the sensation of air in her nose and the inexorable nausea hit her all at once. She swayed as she leaned her weight against the headboard and took in colors of the small wooden room as her eyes grappled for any stability to grasp. The room spun a few times as she caught glimpses of a window to her left that streamed with light, directly in front of her were her mobile toes that wiggled on command -something that she was thankful for- and on her right was the old man, whom had yet to introduce himself. On an end-table next to her were a few desert flowers and cacti gathered in a vase that had withered with the drought of time.

The cozily themed room was lightly speckled with lares and penates. Still, she smiled, it was better than the unending horizon line. “Thank you.” Caira stammered and winced as she found that she had a swollen wrist, and her attire had been changed into something out of an old western: Buttons, frills, and pink corduroy skirt showered her flowing movements. The girl looked horrified for a moment, but pretended not to after she realized that hopefully Patty had changed her. She didn’t feel any granules of sand in the sheets and the lack of sand was a sensation she could appreciate after being in a windy cage of it.

Across the wooden room in a chair her weapons and clothing sat freshly cleaned but not untouched. The Prime grimaced and held her left wrist in her right hand.

“Problem is, to combat dehydration patients, we always used’a put a pinch o’ salt in with water, but you got yerself some swellin’ there so we weren’t able to.” he said and handed her a glass of water, which Caira first sniffed to see if it was laced with anything -later feeling guilty about this- before chugging the whole thing and asking for seconds. “Can’ have seconds yet, ya’ probly’ don’ave enough salt in your system to retain it.”

Caira understood and held her swelled wrist, and elevated it on a pillow against the end table. “Say, where did Murad head off to?” Caira inquired lightly and remembering the welcoming toothy grin as well as the name assigned to it.

A dark shadow cast on the old man’s face, “Murad is still guarding the town, I got off duty after you showed up and called for me a replacement.”

“That was kind of you.” Caira spoke, “I still haven’t introduced myself. My name is Ayryn.” Caira would continue to masquerade under the alias -it was safer that way- and extended her right hand, she didn’t feel quite as bad bad deceiving her hosts and found an untrue name somehow comforting in this obscure situation.

“Daniels.” he said, looking deeply into her eyes and subtly calling her bluff.

Caira blinked and was startled by his forward challenge, his heart had skipped a beat too. His was a false name like hers, an alias, and a very detectable lie.

“Don’ worry, we’re a town that doesn’t ask questions. I’ve lived here for quite the while, heck my brother owns the saloon down the street, so you could say its a family business.”

The girl wasn’t sure what to make of her current situation, the old man had winked as that her lie wouldn’t be told to Patty, probably because it would break her heart, as the tall and beautiful woman of about fifty entered through the doorway and spoke to Caira in the kindest sense. With a southern and charming accent, she welcomed the girl and told her of her wounds, implying that she had detected the trace amounts of paralysis potion still effecting Caira and later mentioning that she had no idea how she got out of the storm alive.

“Good luck you found my Artie here. Not everyone in this town is so hospitable.” she smiled and held Mr. Daniels’ hand.

The Prime nodded to the couple and Patty left the room to bring the young girl in a sandwich. Caira smiled at the hospitality, and her manners obligated her to eat it despite how the monk had had enough sand for a lifetime. And plenty more to come..

Some time passed, Patty told Caira she could remain in the rather quaint and cozy house for as long as she wanted, provided she gave herself time for her wounds to heal before adventuring through the dunes.

“Oh, Mr. Daniels told you about that?”

“Crazy I think, it is. But, a young girl like yourself has plenty of time to be independent before she settles down. If you ask Artie I’m sure he will give you some pointers as to where to travel to.”

The heat had made her restless and in any case, if she returned too soon to Coruscant there was a chance her captors would show what they were fully capable of. Caira didn’t take the risk, instead followed a lead. What if this was meant to happen? Omni’s will, of sorts. Was there something at the end of the open plains she was meant to see and experience for herself? And there was a slim chance her captors [themselves] had not returned to Coruscant, but had ventured off into hiding on the outskirts of the desert with the bandits. What if, Omni was just around the corner and this was but a step in the right direction?

There was only one way to find out.

”Omni, I’m coming after you, and I will find you. You have my word.”

Caira was left with the wonting question, 'Why?'

Now, she found herself chasing this question.. Into the Endless Dunes.

...

A tumbleweed stumbled blissfully into town as it rode on a gentle breeze. “Glad to see that you got here safely.” Caira said to the rolling plant as she recalled the tremors of wind she had strolled into town with.

Yet, the Prime was back on her feet and fully adorned with her upgraded suit and the weight of her weapons fell naturally on her shoulders and hips while she followed Daniels to his guard duties, “You ever alternate sides? Like, around the walls?” her voice asked shyly as the tent shielded them from the sun.

“Nope. No real reason, with the wind the dunes seem to change th’ scenery daily.” Daniels voice echoed. "So we know what to look for, on our side."

Caira would have asked the reason as this struck her as peculiar, but held her tongue as Daniels offered some advice and a bit of a warning for her travels to come, “If you have any means of going underground, I’d advise against it. I ain’t sure if you Primes can conjure some sorta drill to get past the mountains, but... Them 'uns who dwell there ain’t friendly to nobody. Were you a crying child, they wouldn’t even waste a bullet to shut you up. But they'd let the beasts get ye.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Worse, some o’ them are cannibals, eat their own only to last another day in the shadows of the sun. I suggest you find yerself an honorable guide, though there ain’ none in this town, maybe make one with some of that Omnilium ye’ have. Still it’ll only take ya so far before you reach the borders of sanity... I strongly suggest you make a stop at Carrefore before you set out on yer journey. I got a friend there that’ll offer some current events and travel advice.”

Caira nodded. Dusk came and the stars peeked out of the sky, she paced the surrounding walls of the town to get a good idea of their defenses yet getting a glimpse of the four scrawny guards she felt more and more insecure of the town’s safety. In her course she passed politely by the men guarding the town and waved to them with a mischievous smile that was enhanced only by the haunting shade of moonlight.

[Caira Ayryn]

Chapter One, Part Two: Fates Collided

As the traveler paced the perimeter of the town and quickly learned that it was an action that made the guards uneasy. Caira was confronted with the East Gate Guard some ten feet away from her, whom displayed his prominent wealth and was too well adorned to have such a lowly position, yet he wore his riches with a prideful smile. Suddenly her foot began to sink in the sand as he spoke. “Careful miss. There’s a quicksand pit over yonder. Wouldn’t want ya to find yourself in th’ thick of it.”

“Quicksand?” she expressed with a fearful tone. She didn’t think those existed in deserts such as this, mainly because the scorched conditions didn’t allot for it. Her foot was pulled from the vortex of sand, just in time before it began to collapse into a spiraling bowl that threatened to pull anything within a ten foot radius within.

“This can’t be right.”

Caira froze, she crouched down immediately to sense a structure beneath her toes. It was blurry, with muffled vibrations ten feet below her formed what she made out to be a crevice, close enough for her to pick up with her enhanced senses. “A.. Jail?” her eyes narrowed, “What the...” she dug into the ground with cupped hands, people were breathing down there! Their heartbeats were strong.

Her hands, palms, and fingers took the shape of a modest scoop as her fingernails dug into the still warm sand. They were somewhat deep below and while the sun had faded fast, beneath her feet lay a dormant and hidden cave. It was a secret jail.

Perfectly ventilated and perfectly hidden was the disguised entrance beneath the dunes: Quicksand.

...

The Prime used the portal of quicksand for passage and dove in. As the sand’s pressure began to suffocate and envelop her body, her heartbeat began to thud in her ears like steady tribal drums. Then she felt her feet dangle on air as she was freed and a shower of sand combed and sprayed on top of her head and into her hair.

After shaking out all she could Caira thought, That felt like I was trapped inside an hourglass.. before she realized she was breaking into a jail, and would be met with the according response. Though she admitted, this wouldn't be the first time.

There was a canopy of stone above her, she observed when a guard whirled around to her meet her presence, armed with a measly pistol. His hair stood on end, his eyes, in a frenzy of fear and shock; as though nobody was to ever get through their "system." Caira noted that his weapon was flawed for such close range, and flicked it aside. He would find it poorly inadequate in these confined circumstances and would probably just end up hurting himself.

The mage ended up stunning him but because of the difference in power level, he nearly died, in an agonized collapse as he clutched his chest and his eyelids fluttered in agony. The pistol that had been thrown aside caught his eye, as though he would have given it one last effort to kill the intruder, but Caira now turned her menacing attention to the prisoner, whom watched keenly with a rebellious smirk, attempting to figure out on what terms she trespassed in this-his- secret dungeon. The man realized he didn’t recognize the face and seemed a bit disappointed but tried to hide it in the murky gaze that held on her. When Caira raised her arm to throw another blow -this time, at the prisoner and not the guard- the man's plea echoed in the tan caverns, “No-no! Don’t kill me!” He had seen what she had done to his fellow roommate, and wasn't willing to take the chance.

The prowler was about to assure him she wasn’t going to, because factually, with impact of the punch it wasn’t that kind of attack. No blast of energy that could detach from her fist and transcend the bars; Caira also wanted to point out that the guard’s heart still remained beating. If just barely. Instead, she sought the underlying answer that he had laced with coy incentive implied by his words. She spoke, “Why not?”

“I know where you can find treasure beyond your wildest dreams.” The prisoner coaxed with a slithering tongue. "And more."

“Oh?” Caira smirked.

“Yes, but you must untie me.” The prisoner had hopefully convinced her. The man was mistaken, the monk wasn't about to release this man on a whim.

“Not yet.” The woman scowled and her eyes fell upon the fatally wounded guard. Poor guy, I wish I hadn’t punched him like that. But he had a gun and startled me. Geez, you’d think a Prime like myself wouldn’t be so set against those miniature cannons. But I hate the things...

“Not.. Yet?” he echoed in disbelief.

Caira was brought back from her contemplation of guns by the stirring of his voice, “Not until I’m sure.”

“Oh, but I’m telling the truth!” he exclaimed.

“I’ll be the judge of that. And before I decide whether or not to untie you, I’d like to know what I’m dealing with.” she refrained from saying, ‘who’ because even a man could be a monster -especially this one- who appeared to be well bound, well hidden, and well enough of a threat for her to doubt. Perhaps, he was put here by the citizens of the town out of fear but this didn't make sense, because no one acted like they knew anything about it. He must've been forgotten. It reminded her of Atlas, burdened with strange marks and a dutiful stance. The prisoner, "Merik," as she learned was more of a threat than she knew, because he was hidden under a nameless village in secret, and as she recalled the jubilant look on the civilians faces, it told her enough to prove her assumption was entirely correct.

The guard came to, at her incessant prodding and nudging. Her investigation continued as she would question the guard. Her next objective: Interrogate the watchman. “Hello.” her voice said simply.

The man shuffled back, scuffling the ground and cowering against the bowered sandy wall, “I-I.. No!! Don’t release that monster!”

“Shut up!” Merik commanded to the guard in a growl.

“Hm. Tell me what you know, Sir.” she asked the guard.

The prisoner’s shoulders sunk in defeat. Any way Merik could have spun his history’s explanation in his favor was now gone, as though the guard simply living was unreasonable. And like the air in the guard’s lungs, he began with a flow of convincing facts.

“He’s a Prime,” the guard sneered, “And a very dangerous one at that. Bounty on his ’ead, but not infamous enough to get him killed. Here in the Dunes’ ya see we’re all bandits. Merik here is known for escaping Banishment Circles.”

“Is he now? That’s something we have in common.” Caira reasoned, with a second glance at Merik and by the look of his attire, he was from Coruscant, this explained how she had not seen his name on the wall of Camelot bounties.

The secondary recoiled with distaste, associating this unique skill of the Prime with the tendencies of a monstrosity. “He’s escaped hundreds. People waste a throw and the cost of the circle, he parries them with great skill and without a second thought! Even in his state now, if thrown, he would escape it.” The secondary paused long enough for Merik to interject.

“One of my many talents.” Merik held a covetable look in his eye, longing to display his tamed power.

"Well then, I only wish I could test this theory. If only I had one on me." Caira remarked, her eyes glued with intrigue to the prisoner.

“What’s he in for?” her soft voice asked, to further the interrogation.

“He’s a criminal... He’s also killed numbers o' secondaries, treats us like-” his voice inserted an unsound explicative. “But now, look whose on the other side of the bars!” The secondary challenged and lunged for him, pointing at Merik with his middle finger extremely animated.

Merik's wordlessness faded into a conquering chuckle, “I’m only here because no one can kill me... Well, permanently. It even took a few hundred men to secure me here, and the deception of a woman played her part...” he added scornfully.

“How many people have you, ah.. killed, Merik?” she turned her attention to him.

“I don’t keep count anymore.”

That was a straight answer. And not entirely unconvincing.

“Twenty-six secondaries, ten Primes.” the guard informed, in order to intimidate her. The numbers did not scare her, but beckoned her curiosity as she looked simultaneously impressed and disgusted. Conflicting interests played their parts in her internal battle.

“They all got in my way.” Merik said, seemingly disgruntled. His ploy to escape might be hopeless after all, if the girl who held all the keys labeled him a ruthless villain and decided he would remain where he belonged.

It was her voice who coaxed him now, “Do you want to be free of this cage? For one last adventure?”

“Y-Yes! You seem like the kind of woman to understand,” he sized her up, confidence rolled off her like a glowing liquid as she commanded the room with it, power was only an incentive for the guard to obey her interrogation. Merik’s voice continued, “I knew you would.”

“I don’t.” she stated plainly. "Since I've come to this place, I've hunted the bounties of men like you."

His heart dropped to the floor in a sunken lump. He was sure he pegged her as a killer too. His lips warbled, speechless at how he was so absolutely sure she spoke with the universal knowledge of understanding.

“However, I know that your secrets have answers that I want. I’ll take you up on your previous offer.” Caira began to move around as though in search of the keys to the bars.

“Yes!” His triumphant voice cackled with villainy.

Meanwhile the secondary guard cowered in fear, “No! You mustn’t, you can’t. Please, miss.” He pleaded, nearly at her knees, “He’s killed the innocent. He’s a rebel and nothing but scum!”

“They were all guilty,” Merik interjected, “In Coruscant, few exist who aren’t. Their crimes just weren’t publicized in the news or the paper. Injustice comes in many forms. All bandits know that. Injustice... Like the same kind that keeps me on this side of the bars. Its all an illusion.”

“YOU-!” the secondary shouted angrily, “You’re one to talk. You and your secrets. Hah. As if they hold any power.”

“That’s rather hypocritical of you to say. They have all the power here.” Caira spoke to the secondary and motioned to the ceiling, “It is what keeps this place undiscovered, isn’t it? The classified information, exchanged only in whispers, that keeps his friends from freeing him, the villagers don’t know, am I right?” The secondary looked befuddled as she continued, “I now stare at the secret only few members of your township know. Perhaps not even the mayor himself. Yet it endangers them all. Don't the people have the right to know what could kill them? You did say he was a murderer. Ah, but the man who sits guard at the East Gate, oh, he knows and warns the citizens of quicksand- a reasonable threat that keeps them at a stifled distance from discovering what is hidden here- he saves their lives from a distasteful death, and gets a reward from them all. But the real purpose of his position is concealed by the disguise. The perfect guard, that is what keeps you here too, sitting and watching him, day after day.” She gestured to Merik but the secondary only scoffed.

“Have you no value for the lives he has taken?” The guard spoke.

The words plunged into Caira’s mind as a poisoned black dagger, “More than you know. Have you no value for the potential lives he might take if he were to escape? That alone is the value of your secret.” she paused, “Life is unique, something that when it is stolen, will never be replaced. This alone causes anger which takes root with the deceit of revenge. Its almost as powerful as hatred itself. Just because you have a reason, doesn’t make it right to hold him here, especially so close to the town. Didn’t you say he was a murderer? Now, I won’t say that is murder is in any way right, but as I take it most bandits are as such and well... I can use his skill set to survive out here.”

“It was the only way.. Don’t release him girl.” the secondary warned again, the sand tumbled from the quicksand portal on the ceiling of the cave with the East Gate guard.

“Ah, I now confirm he knew of this place too.” Caira deduced as a sleuth and didn’t have to look over her shoulder. “How many follow you young one?” The East Gate guard coughed up some sand and offered a hateful defeated glare as he noted she was still alive.

“Not many? No threat at all?” she assumed, “Because they don’t know. No one in that town knows. But I assume the one you did call is very powerful. Plenty of time for that. Almost enough to stop me from doing this.” The woman’s hand reached toward the first guard's belt, edging closer to the pistol, removing it, and then lifting the keys from around his waist.

The rusted key that shaped to the metal and bewitched lock, clinked open.

[Caira Ayryn]

“This job couldn’t pay a well trained guard or capable Prime enough money to stay here underground all day and keep watch. That is the folly that freed your prisoner, and a bandit’s folly at that. By keeping him prisoner, a secret from the town, you unknowingly robbed them of their right to know, and their lives should someone free him. It is for this reason, that I dare to.” Caira turned her attention to Merik, his eyes eager to escape the cage, and his movement restless as he was perched on the top of a chair, his neck remained in the noose and his body encompassed in a hateful blend of bewitched rope.

“Merik, I don’t have to trust you to free you. The incentive of the ultimate treasure is enough for me because I plan to use you as a guide. But, know a claim such as that, isn’t the reason I would believe you on a desperate whim, which in this case you would be expected in a man of your current... Position. To lie. I think you’ll have something more to offer later.”

“Curse you!” the East Gate Guard said as his golden chains jingled with his movement against the silver bars.

“Come now, come now, I’m saving lives.” Caira said with such certainty, even Merik believed her actions had pure motives.

Caira put the secondaries in the jail and and the exchanged Merik walked out with the biggest smile, despite his movement impeded by rope and chain remaining around his wrists. The male offered a hateful sneer at the weakling secondaries. His triumphant silence was the most searing and painful words he could have flaunted.

Before the pair departed form the sandy cave, she nodded and voiced her observation. “So that is the case. Someone must be in the jail at all times..” She said quieter, “Just as Atlas held the boulder.” The perfect detainment system for a secret jail, no one who knew of it, would ever be willing to free him on his own life, and no one could plan ahead to capture anyone to put in their place because it was a secret. The ratio of prisoners that needed to be held in the cell, Caira didn’t know, and it was just convenient of the East Gate guard to arrive on time, was a proportion of people that must be within the bars were that of two secondaries (there was always only one guard on duty) or one prime.

Merik, bound by cursed black ropes, was happy to stretch his legs and flex his tense muscles. Caira had no way of knowing he remained standing on that four legged chair for ten years. Caira and him exchanged a glance, their eyes met, hers offered an intimidation factor that he immediately met with one that almost- with sheer defiant power alone- broke her confident composure. She knew well enough that this wasn’t framed justice, yet no one was judging or dying because of it. Not on her watch. This excuse suited her well enough. Because her incentive was adventure, treasure and of course, information. Prizes neither of the guards had the power or means to provide. Merik would be her guide. She couldn’t help but to smile in triumph of gaining such a prize.

The two secondaries would live, and the secret of Merik’s injustice would be out once more and perhaps the news would find itself spreading through the town after the well-known secondaries disappeared, this time, though, Merik’s freedom was indebted to her. And this time, the town may know what its protectors had feared.

“Let’s go.”

...

As the two departed the cave, they met the cold breeze of an evening on the Dunes under the dark sky, Caira’s eyes asked a question her lips wouldn’t dare to motion. So Merik, feeling pleased, generously offered an answer to the gleam in her eye.

“I was on top of that chair for ten years. They wouldn’t even let a man piss let alone move.” he paused, “I know what you’re thinking, why not kill myself? My neck in a noose and all.” He smirked, “They would threaten to shoot the legs of the chair if I gave them any trouble. And death in that cage, the cell walls are bewitched with powerful magic- like you mentioned, it was cursed. If a Prime were to die in that jail cell, beneath the city.. The cell will not allow a guilty soul to escape so easily, that is, without consequence. This is why I resisted such a torturous death as long as I could.. that is, until you showed up. My eternal life was actually at stake every day.”

He waited, Caira turned her head, almost intrigued enough to ask more. Merik’s voice continued to timbre, “A Prime, with eternal life, has much more at stake in that cell than any mortal man. I'd almost prefer taking a visit to Diablo's Dungeon. The consequences in that cursed place... Death cannot be surpassed there if circumstances are enough to trap you. The soul out of the body.. perhaps forever, immortally bound within those walls.” He waited. “A most horrible death... but a more terrible fate.” That was what Merik had been told, at least, perhaps. Caira reasoned that there was no proof that something like that could actually ever exist. But a man had to know. So he must have had some evidence. Caira would just have to take his word for it.

Her shining eyes fell on the silhouette of the town with a light hue, glinting in the moon’s shadow. Darkness spanned against the sandy dune wasteland. She was sure this place was missing something, something that echoed with loud whistles and was stirred by a mighty engine, something that steamed with a roar from fire and steered by tracks alone. But Caira’s little knowledge on technology would not allow her to directly associate what the place lacked, but she had a feeling that it was a reliable source of transport. Especially in this wasteland.

“So Merik, tell me the history of this place...”

They traversed the small piece of desert, heading for the heart of the town. Caira desired to show the people exactly what was hidden from them for so long ten years I think he said? and mentioned this to Merik, whom gave his word not to kill any "innocent" man, woman, child or cat, but she also had other incentive for her decision to free him. He would respect this act displayed by her, because of the rebellious conspiracies he fought in Coruscant (or so he said he had). It was strangely ironic how he himself had become one in this place.

Her eyes remained on the sand a foot in front of her feet, the little sparkles of pigmented sand gleamed in the moonlight before the shine was interrupted by a tall looming shadow, cast by the faint moonlight. She not move her chin upward to meet the horrific opponent before her, in the eye. A man who existed to confront the release of the prisoner on her right. She didn’t need to look at the steel-foce of man to know he was one of the most powerful in this land.

His mere footstep shook the sandy ground within a ten foot radius. Caira wouldn’t admit to herself she was afraid, but felt the instinctive reaction to an threat that might kill her or worse. Merik brushed her side and stood against the foe, his towering height matching the adversary head on, ready to stretch his toes.

A glance prodded her and reminded her the duel to come would be two against one, if she would only unwrap his hands.

[Caira Ayryn]

Chapter Two, Excavating Ruins?

The woman’s eyes still would not wander toward the challenger in front of her, Where was her courage when she needed it?

“I”m just going to excavate some ruins with my new friend here,” she lied and gestured to the jailbird she had emancipated, but would never actually consider his companionship that of a friend despite how she found herself cornered into slicing the rope with her sword.

It was a most unbelievable alibi, but there was a moment of pause that came from the threatening figure, who was looking for one whom had freed the prisoner. Merik leaned to Cai for a moment, “I’ll show you what I’m made of,” there was a searing villainy that had been ignited in his distinctly red eyes, for a moment she almost found herself admiring him, he didn’t seem to meet the evil inside of him with any fear. Nor did he care if he became contemptible in this land of bandits. A stark contrast to what she valued in herself, yet he bore his quality with pride.

Merik cracked his knuckles for a moment before launching himself forward with a burst of speed and hitting the opponent in the chest. It helped that the man wasn’t expecting it, Merik was bounced back the same distance as his opponent was recovering on the sand and gasping for air. It was only at this moment, Caira found herself looking at the sand-bitten being. The enemy was a tall, tan westerner with dark hair and seething eyes. He was well-equipped for battle but looked as though he had just awoken from a long hibernating nap.

Caira thought for a moment that Merik had just wrecked their promise, yet this man wasn’t dead. She seized the moment to wrap him in a coil as her hands moved in an ‘x’ shape and ropes of heated energy leapt from the air and bound him. The girl then placed her sword to his still gasping neck. “Today isn’t your lucky day.” she said with a sigh and deliberating killing the poor guy. How could she justify her life over his? If only for something so small as a running start.

"KILL ME." The man rasped.

The girl was taken aback and lowered the blade of her sword from his neck. This guy was suicidal.

"I have failed. When they find out, they'll do much worse to me. Kill me, now."

"I...I... Won't." She concluded.

"Have you no honor?" his eyes asked, looking tearily into hers, Have you no mercy?

Caira was a soldier now. It hung in the demeanor over her shoulders. From the distinguished sword perched on her hip, he could tell. Her eyes shook, tracing the fine lines of their conversation, and the consequences it would have if she made the wrong choice. A glance over to Merik assured her that the telepath was enjoying the show. Great. He would hold anything she did against her, later.

"You don't deserve to die. You were in over your head." She tried to reason with the man, who now stood tall, despite the coiling gnarls of rope.

"I sold my soul to the devil. She'll come back to collect." There was enough ice in his words, to chill the air.

She? The Prime had no idea what the secondary was talking about, who the secondary was talking about. But before she could ask any more, the man ran on her sword -which was lowered, until she raised it out of instinct... In self-defense.

Shock froze her still. The girl had chosen to uphold her own sense of justice even if it compromised her upper hand on the situation, it is for this reason that she couldn't fathom why he had lunged at her. That is, before the Prime speared himself with her own sword. Caira almost screamed at the sight of the completely unexpected bloodshed, dripping into a puddle on the sand because this meant she had just killed a defenseless man bound in rope.

Her eyelids weighed heavy for a moment, as she drew her sword from the sopping mess of blood, the dragging feel as it slid out of his cartilage did not reassure her of the cost. "You didn't have to die." Caira muttered before cleaning her sword.

Merik had watched, “Don’t look so surprised, he doesn’t know you, nor what kind of person you are and has to assume that you, his enemy, will torture him to death or worse. Seems like his employer was the type to do the same. At least this gives him the chance to escape without being banished.” he summed up and explained the way the enemy thought easily, as though he had once been in their shoes.

"Escape?"

"Who knows, if a secondary dies, they could be released from this prison." The Omniverse.

“To be captured is one of the most feared things. For anyone in that position especially Primes like us. I’m surprised you let him run on your sword like that without asking for information. Er... That's the term for what it was called where I was from. Chivalrous foe would run up their own sword when meeting defeat.”

Caira remained silent as she looked up to Merik, whom had dusted himself off from his fall into the sand and spoke, “I wouldn’t worry about it, this is our head start anyway.”

[Caira Ayryn]

...

A shadow fell hauntingly against a weather tattered wooden doorway, quickly, the figure borrowed a nearby man’s pistol from his position at the bar of the the saloon and aimed it above the gap in wood-planked half doors that separated the room from the dust in the hot street. With the instrument Caira shot at the bell on the steeple across the street; it was large and made out of dense brass and the bullet projected from the revolver, small. Despite her lack of aim, it hit the bell and caused a loud chime to ring through the town.

“I, Ayryn am going out there!” she pointed beyond the door she had shot above and to the light of the outdoors and also returned the male his pistol minus one bullet, “If someone comes searching for me, take the liberty of telling them exactly where I am, and have them leave a note with you, for when I return.” she asked the bartender before tipping him with a shining currency that fell quickly into his grabby hands.

The entire bar was watching her now, as Caira proclaimed her own death sentence boldly- especially for one who was rumored to have just sprung a man from jail- as Merik had left to rent the camels and gather supplies for their journey. Caira confronted the people in the saloon that was filled with the pungent stench of cigarette smoke and the musty of men whom responded as they laughed an jeered.

One man asked, seeming concerned and cooed, “Yer' going out there missy?”

“Yea’ ain’t the first to try and fail. Many people haven’t come back.” One warned before drowning a bitter swish of hot ale down his gullet.

“Hah!” The stirs of the bar began as eyes sized up her stature and attempted to guess her experience.

“D’ya think she knows ‘bout the bandits?” The tavern full of masculine rogues, outlaws and bandits erupted with laughter at the bold sarcasm interwoven in the comment and tapped the tables with their hands or empty glasses.

“Real strong one disappeared many years ago. ‘E had great blonde hair and demon red eyes. I’d say he were a vampir’ but they can’t walk in the sun.” One man said with a cigar protruding from his lips.

“That’s no place for a girl like you, stay in my bed instead.” Someone had made a come-on.

Caira scowled and shifted uneasily and wrote down something to the bartender before turning away.

“Won’t last a day.” Another lifted his glass from the wooden bar and sipped his ale. A bet was made.

“Too damn’d congenial," another offered a reason, "Thems’ with reform and self control are the first to-”

“Betcha a week.” Someone upped the ante.

“-Well she is a Prime.” Another chimed in. "Girl can always come back."

“So? Nothin’ prepares you for the hell out there.”

“She’ll be lucky if its the heat that kills ‘er.” Most of the men agreed to that.

“We’ll see if ye' decide to come back ‘ere after you respawn. Or if yer too haunted to ever come back to this barren verse.” A blatant challenge.

The men had started to talk amongst themselves and make bets on her head, as though she were a bounty. How ironic.

The stolid Caira had heard them, yet they spoke as though she was already gone. Gambling. People liked it because of the thrill, the risk, and because they liked to win. The Prime was sure that she would be the one to triumph, her prize was one she viewed with greater reverence than the bet itself.

“I’ll last longer than you think. I’ve a guide and I’m going to the edge.” With her final words she exited the now hushed bar. Little did Caira know precisely what edge -perhaps it would symbolize the brink of her own destruction- which she would soon be balancing on.

“Nope. Won’ last over a week.” One agreed through the closing of doors behind her, that let in a flutter of sunlight as the man placed a currency on his words.

“Buy ya’ a drink extra if she looses her head!”

“Yer on!” Laughs filled the wooden room as the spirits they drank flushed their faces and they waited for news of her return.

[spoiler]It had been a while since a female Prime had ventured far out into the desert, but by a few hours most of the townsmen knew of her insane journey. Rumors of who she was and what she sought grew more fabricated as the bets grew out of proportion and they simply waited for her next visit. Their eyes were particularly keen on keeping an eye on what direction she would return.

“Yes! I ain’t kidden’ a Prime gal was in here claiming she would face the mighty desert on her own! She seemed pretty educated, too smart to throw her life away, but her goal- I hear’ her say that she was venturing to excavate the ruins o’ the old tankers!”

“I heard she left jus’ fer the fun o’ it!” Hearty laughter was mused by the crowd of men with facial scruff whom listened enjoying the myth they had created with words they had passed over booze, and spoke of a woman they had never met. While they were free to imagine what she looked like, they mixed their self-inflating stories with their own desired amount of ruthless courage that couldn’t be stopped. Ayryn grew to be a name that was mixed with a bit of lore and associated with that of a powerful woman with silver eyes. The goddess carried some well-known lore in a few of the saloons, the stories only continued to further in extreme, prompted by some of the passing rogues who ventured into town and left as soon as they came..

“Naw, I heard ‘er say she were gonna go after the men who killed her daddy!”

“I heard one strong lookin' guy say that she broke someone out of prison!”


“I met ‘er once and we fell in love before she gave me this scar here!” He would pull his shoulder to reveal what looked to be a small freckle, but he treated his shoulder gingerly, as though the flesh had tasted warm lead.

“You both are liars and cheaters! She’s from the Kingdom- I could tell by the way she walked and the inscription on her sword! An’ she is investigating the oil tanks! Said there was a conspiracy and that what is left of them might have some sorta bomb in em’!”

"But no one knows which one..."

People oohed and awed as they imagined the silhouette of a woman narrowly evading the fiery embers of a great orange cloud of destruction.

“Hah! You’re all wrong.” One tall figure spoke, “She is searching for her friend who is cursed to walk the dunes, t'inks that the Ghost of the Mountains is behind the curse!”

“Ghost of the MOUNTAINS?” an exasperated exclamation of a man’s voice looked horrified.

“She’d give a thousand lifetimes to kill that creature, I hear.” One added with an ominous scowl.

“Nary a man whom has passed through those mountains ever survived because of that Ghost!”

“Only warriors can bare their fangs against the Ghost and live to tell the tale!”

“That’s why it takes a woman.” Patty said with a smile as she visited Artie’s brother and gave a boisterous wink to the men, provoking their fun. All good lore started in taverns and was carried by the intrigued words of travelers. And only the best tales were carried far beyond the horizon's reach.

Folklore mixed with her goal as the stories grew crazier by the day, though the female Prime wasn’t there to defend herself as some had placed bets on her head, others bandits quickly left town, following inklings of stories to try and track the girl but they could only guess which way she traveled and created new stories to be told by the unknowing bartenders in order to warn their bandit brethren of her arrival. Others whispered of her sanity and still some, seemed concerned for the gal’s health.


Patty and Artie listened to the rumors and had realized that the girl they had looked after had grown out of hand, though the rumors were all under the name of a mysterious ‘Ayryn’ none every delved into her exact reason of venturing to the edge. They could only guess what her fate would become, having many of their own scars from blaster pistols and other unsaid close-calls, covered up by the flamboyant plaid clothing they wore as they exchanged a look.

“Some men at Georgie’s bar were tellin’ that Ayryn was gonna meet the Ghost of the Mountains.” The mountains, where the cannibals ripped people limb from limb, without sparing a bullet to put people out of their misery first.

“Ain’t no Ghost an’ you know that Patty.”

“Yea’ but what actually dwells in there is much, much worse.”[/spoiler]

[Caira Ayryn]

Part Two, Continued: Between the Carrefour of Strangers

Caira looked at the rations Merik had packed and handed her the map with an over-pronounced notion of loyalty. “Sometimes there are stories of a bewitched cup lucky travelers find in their most crucial time of need, the cup refills itself with water and is bottomless. If we’re lucky though, we wont need it.”

“Things like that are either technology from Coruscant, or magic from the Mages of Dalaran, right?” the Prime was still fresh to the place, but was learning quickly and questioned Merik for new knowledge.

“No mystery there I guess? But there are certain items in this world, that are worth more than a hundred Secondaries' lives” he smirked to cover his disappointment as she didn’t take the bait he had dangled. Her lips remained a softened line, that turned into a tender frown.


They neared Carrefour on their camels and Caira thought it had a lighter feeling surrounding it, contrary to the gruff atrabilious tone of the Town With No Name. They allowed their camels some drink as Merik vanished from sight.

Cai waited on the outskirts of the town, which seemed very strange as people hustled with a fear infused in their step. Caira waited and would ask in concern about their manner (not to her knowledge, but apparently it sourced from the mention of an unruly golden king, a lightning god, and a strange brute.) The Camelot soldier began to ask a strange looking woman with an patch which spanned over her right eyebrow and covered the hollow below. The old hag was adorned with flowing robes and a beautifully colored red bird on her shoulder.

“Hehehe!” The parrot’s beak chattered with amusement. “Advice. Advice! That would be nice!” the parrot crooned, “Lo there! A lowly traveler, you are!”

The Prime’s burdened silver eyes moved to the bird, whom seemed to act as the old woman’s lips.

“Venturing far... To there, you are.” No gesture was offered as to where ‘there’ was from the bird’s swaying movements.

While the Prime agreed, “Yes, I’m heading across the desert. Do you have any advice for me on my travel?” it was sometimes the people whom seemed meek with words knew the most or could offer the best advice. Caira expected the red bird to chatter an answer, but suddenly a rasping voice came from the woman’s lips.

“Through the Endless Dunes, you go,
Off to travel, all that you do not know.
Foraging for treasure set in starving ruins..
Beware of the bandits for they will inhume.
Do not sleep at the lion’s gated smile,
Even worse than dead, you are, in this isle.
Cast adrift for a good while,
You must choose the best passage.. Young child.”

The old woman with a black cape suddenly erupted in a fit of coughing and keeled over. The parrot flapped its wings and remained at her shoulder as Caira jumped to catch her before she fell against the ground.

“Oh my!” the Prime said in a shocked voice, “She’s dead!”

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME MOTHER!” a loud voice erupted from a fellow that closely resembled a pirate sauntered over as his eyes captured the scene. “Ye kill her! Darn Primes think they can kill a helpless ol’ woman!”

“No.. I didn’t... We were just talking...”

“The parrot just repeats what it hears.” The pirate looking man clutched the dead woman in his arms.

“No, she said something about the desert.”

“WHAT? Me mother hasn’t spoken for thirty-five years! Get outta here Prime! Lies are horrible things to do to a grieving man.”

“But its true..”

“If that’s right, what’d she say?”

“Urm... Well it was.. See, it was like a poem, something about the bandits in the desert and a lion..”

“Tch!” Pirate man didn’t have an ‘arrggh’ accent, she noted, though much to her disappointment. “I’m ‘er only son and she don’ even talk to me.. I wasn’t even here for her passin’.. Then she goes and tells ye’ of the dunes...”

His voice whimpered with humming sorrow as Caira chimed in, “I’m sure she appreciated you, and would have wanted you to know she died helping someone.”

“EH? Primes don’ need help. They got money for that.”

“Money won’t pay off peril, and not all Primes have a surplus of Omnilium.” She reasoned.

Suddenly the male stood tall and lifted his fist as though he were going to punch her, and Merik broke in saying it was time to go. “Coming!” she said with a hum in her voice and quickly evaded the man’s wrath.

“Why d'ye kill her?” The gruff man growled.

Oh, he’s still on that, Caira justified herself, “I didn’t kill anyone.”

But she knew it was a lie.

...


Caira noticed he was towing a large boulder he had dug up on the borders of Carrefour. “Why are you bringing a rock with you?” she asked as he looked at her in a startled frenzy and shushed her.

Later, when they were out of sight from the town, departed and had made their way under the cover of dusk on their camels, he introduced the valuable stone to her eyes. It gleamed with flaming bits of amber though covered in dust, every ounce of color was lit with the hot rays of the scalding summer sun. “This here is a Desert Beetle.”

“Looks like a rock to me.” she said with a bored look on her face, as he dusted off the rough edges of rock around the beetle’s sleek crimson shell, proving her wrong.

“What does it do?” Caira inquired to its purpose. Surely if Merik had gone to such extents, it had to be worth more than what she thought she was looking at.

“Desert Beetles are a rare find. One in five thousand don’t die within the first five seconds they are summoned.” As he continued to brush away accumulated dust and sand, he revealed a ruby looking beetle about the size of a normal man’s hand. “They create water from sunlight. Remember those goblets you mentioned, technology or magic? Well these are the wild version. Bandits -particularly the secondaries- use them for water when they don’t create wells and must transport or live on the run. They are valuable, like desert gold, especially in this place, thats why they are disguised as rocks. Hell I’m lucky the one I stashed away before I was captured is still there.”

“How does it work?” She looked at the ruby, that had six legs protruding, three from each side, and it was quite evident the thing was not alive.

“Okay, well, after absorbing and hours worth of strong sunlight it creates enough water to fill a glass. You might think it's worthless but every time you need to summon water using Omnilium, is three minutes that could have been walked to get further through the dunes. She may not look it, but she's quite the asset, especially for the poor bandits, or just those who are lucky enough to find this lil' ruby hidden inside a rock. They tend to burrow much like a geode.” he spoke informatively and allowed her to touch it, suddenly its legs twitched, Caira looked at the rock creature in repulsion.

“Is it alive? Like a plant?” She asked if it operated in a way similar to photosynthesis.

“Yes. Sort of.”

“So, technically, are we drinking its..?” Caira's face coiled and she took a step away from the bettle.

“Well, it's water...” Merik gave her a strange look as though this was something everyone should know and took back his ruby beetle from her hands. “Anyway, valuable thing, saves time and energy and Omnilium. Prize in the desert. If anyone ransacks your stuff, you best save this. And raids do happen. More often than not.”

The girl gave him an unconvinced look.

“And if we are caught in a gunfight, shield it with your life, these things shatter and then die.” He coddled it in his arms as though it were more valuable than the sun itself. “Anyway, our schedule is as follows, we travel by night and only in the peak hours of daylight do we rest.”

[Caira Ayryn]

Part Three: Dunes, The Slow Tempo of an Endless Hourglass


[spoiler]Caira didn’t think it was unreasonable, and she said so, as the camel’s hooves trooped along and the hours drenched by. By high-noon a tent-like covering surrounded the three fatigued camels and the more fatigued pair of humans. “How.. Can you slee...p.. In this heat?” She slurred as he got settled and turned her temperature adjustable suit on the maximum setting and waited for the perspiration to leave her salt covered lips and the slick back of her neck to become smoothly dry.

He silently offered his stetson to her and summoned another for himself, this time, one dark and wide-brimmed. “Even I’m not used to it, it never got this warm underground, so my body is trying to adapt just as much as yours is.” He wouldn’t mention the implied death-sentence that had trapped him there, as though his jail-time was a taboo topic, though it was the only one she knew. Merik however, continued, “But, I had gotten used to it after a while...The temperatures, and there are certain tricks in this case, that you can do to convince your mind it isn’t as hot as it is.”

“Like what?” she heard her voice ask, dreading any and every second she was exposed to the silent destruction of the heat.

“Hmm. Well- hey! Don’t drink too much water, you’ll be sick.” he warned as Caira began to guzzle a mountain’s worth of their beetle-created stores. “Anyway... If you leave open your lips slightly, air can leave and brush over the roof of your mouth, it cools the body from the inside-out. Just don’t do it when there is a wind.” he chuckled and melted into the mound of items he had taken off of the three camels and his hat’s rim drooped over his eyes. “Later in the journey we will set a watch, but there really isn’t a need.. yet. Not until we cross into the zone. Plus we're sleeping at peak daylight.”

Caira was already getting used to the dry and parched feeling of waking up to salt-cracked lips. Merik, jubilantly woke her up with loud singing and mixed together the elixir of life, or rather more truthfully, survival.

He handed her a cup that smelt like oranges and mint. Gingerly she sipped it, only to taste the bitterness of sugar and gripped her fist in distinguished surprise as her nose crinkled into a recoil that jolted throughout her body. UCK! How do humans eat this stuff?! Trickling behind the sweet, saccharine flavor was a mild mint to mellow the taste that continued to remind her of sugar.

“You don’t like it?” he inquired while stating matter-of-factly, “Everyone likes oranges. I even gave the camels a little taste.” He pointed to their troff which had a peel floating in it.

“I wont protest. Merik knows best.” she clinked her glass into his and used her ‘monk-tolerance’ to stomach the best prescription in the desert: Energizing citrus.

Freshly packed and traveling in the destructive heat for the first day, it was not the highlight of their adventure -no, that would come later- instead, waves of heat bounced not only from the sky but reflected and was amplified with double the intensity from the sand beneath the camels feet. Even with sunglasses on she found herself squinting. Only an hour had passed and the day was heavy on her shoulders. During their allotted time, Caira wasn't able to get a single whisker of sleep.

After some sun-filled hours of the consuming heat that lasted until she thought as though she might just die, the dunes began to look blurred with curving waves of heat. Later she would only realize that her heavy panting was probably distracting the camels.

Merik didn’t seem to mind her... inability, and despite his own body slowly acclimatizing to the weather, he strode onward with his dark hat casting a superb amount of shade past his composed chin.

Five more dreadful hours of heat passed, and when a minute began to feel like an hour, Caira began to get impatient. The monk offered no complaints, after all, it was her choice to come, but she talked to the camel some, whom seemed to have knobby, wobbly knees. “Keep going Roe’ you’re doing great,” she pat its head for something proactive to do and its ear’s twitched with disturbed agitation.

Merik cast a glance, “Hey, don’t do that,” There was a partial smile, but he was quite serious about it. His glare was dismissive. As though warning her not to get attached to them. And warning her to not speak to him either.

Caira didn’t have a good enough reason to continue petting its head -other than her sanity- but decided to obey. Meanwhile, the grueling heat only continued. The days turned into chilled nights which folded right back into the immense heat of the day, even though they weren’t traveling -much less moving- at peak daylight.

Merik fiddled with his beetle and Caira longed for entertainment, she practiced a few things and asked him suddenly, “Teach me how you evade banishment circles.” It wasn’t question or so much a request but somehow as the words rolled from her lips, it came off as a demand.

“Ah, didn’t you say you were good at doing it too?” Merik inquired, his eyes intently on her.

“Yeah, but I only dodge em’ with luck. What’s your method?” Caira calmly responded.

“Well, it’s really no secret,” he began, and the light of day finally seemed to dip beneath the horizon and the chill of night settled in her bones.

“So basically, you do it with your brain? Is there anyway I can duplicate that?” the female sounded disappointed. “I would say I’d like to see it in action, but I don’t have one on me."

Merik told her of the technique, it wasn’t hard to figure out. “Like this?” she asked and attempted to form a shield with energy but was unable to sustain it.

“Hm. You’ll have to continue to try as we go along. Perhaps you’ll pick it up eventually.” His words were convincing, but Caira was no telekinetic. She would never harbor the mastery that Merik had been naturally born with.

...


The night was dark, the fullness of the moon had passed and was now a crescent of pale light once more. It was suspiciously quiet and not even a whisper of the wind would swish in the darkened distance.

Without warning, as if from nowhere, a pack of wild beasts surrounded them. Creatures with eyes that glinted with ravenous hunger that sliced through the shade of night. They cackled strangely to one another as the group of three camels and two primes were surrounded by darkness and beast alike.

Merik whispered, “Hyenas!” and the wolf-like shapes lunged at the weaker camel. Caira unsheathed her blade and readied her hand to deploy an explosive dagger on Merik’s command. The battle was quick as the circling creatures moved all at once, lunging at the camel’s legs and bringing everyone to the four-legged beasts level. Caira, with gravity as her aide, brought down her unsheathed sword into a beasts neck and flung a dagger closely at the reinforcements that idled near them, the cowards of the creatures waited actively for scraps of the vanquished prey.

“I won’t be that easy,” Caira said and slashed through a couple of them, Merik combatted the other side and seemed to be well versed in the pack's attack patterns. More hyenas followed, their numbers seemed endless. Merik requested her sword and Caira gasped as he killed the three camels they had cared for without verbally justifying their sacrifice, and then continued to battle the waves of hyenas. She blinked away her doubt, What had she wanted, a warning? Soon their position was surrounded with the carcasses of the collapsed predators and yet, as though a shark had caught the scent of a deadened animal, a shadow covered lion, about the size of ten hyenas in height trotted through the desert, right for them.

When Merik’s eyes caught on it, he fumbled with fear and in his frenzy grabbed Caira with her. “We can still-” she began as he pulled a few bags of their reserves over his shoulders and ran faster than she had ever seen anyone flee. She quickly followed, though without the 'proper' incentive of fear wasn’t as fast as Merik, who seemed threatened by the edge of fear. He tackled her at a safe distance away and she slid over the side of the highest dune and hid under its ridged cover.

“Whew! We’re away from that now.” She seemed relieved, but could've taken more of a challenge.

The male panted and held his narrow eyes popped just over the mound of sand and watched as the shadowed lion with great jaws, chomped on the camel bones and collected the hyenas for later.

“Not far enough." Merik warned, his voice, weary with dismay.

He continued at a swift pace and dragged her along with her, “What was that thing?” she asked and her eyes rounded the colossal figure in the distance. “Could we have-”

“No, that thing is too powerful. They call it a Chimera Lion or Death Specter. They're like ghosts, they don't die, no matter how many swings you take at them. God, they are horrible. We are lucky we escaped with our lives.”

But at what cost?Caira pondered, realizing she learned something new about Merik. He wanted to survive just as much as she did. “Well, I guess we’ll have to summon new camels.”

“NO!” he shouted with a horrified expression, “It was precisely because of them that we were targeted by the hyenas, can’t risk running into that thing again, this time we only got away because it had a meal already prepared." His next request seemed unreasonable. But, Caira was a passenger on this voyage so she obeyed.

"We’ll walk from here.”

...

For what seemed like an eternity, their struggles became gradually more challenging. First the heat pounded from overhead, then they had braved the eerie chill of the night, met some predators along the way while to top it off they were barely a fraction of the way there.

Their tracks faded in the labile labyrinth that was the ever-changing, Endless Dunes.


Merik brought up the terms she had freed him on, “If it comes down to it, I may have to kill some bandits in order for our... Rather, your survival to be prioritized. We do not want to have to retrace our steps just to come back to one position. And believe me, death isn't pleasant, nor is it something a lady should never have to experience.”

“Only if we must.” Caira warned him, her eyes met his with an unspoken threat, one that imitated the darkness of a Chimera Lion. To the naive girl, death could never lose purpose. But even her idea of death was starting to change. It seemed in the Dunes, death was a necessary sacrifice. Caira hadn't decided if she was to accept this way of "life" or rebel against it.

“You know,” Merik began, “Killing those people..” His eyes maddened by guilt and his voice rang out, this time, with the belief that he had purposely and wrongly eradicated his enemies. It seemed what had rooted his despair to be woven so deep was that he had once valued life as more than it should have been tossed away, and this same belief was enough to madden any man after seeing too much death. And especially after causing it.

To her surprise, Merik continued. After rarely talking, and now speaking on such a touchy subject, Caira was only slightly astounded, before her suspicion took over just in time to question his motive. His words were the embodiment of manipulation and they would only continue with Caira as his pet. “I’m surprised you let me live considering..”

“Considering what?” She fed into his words, wanting to hear him out.

“Well, you value the lives of innocents is’all and yet you let me free, and I've killed them. I don’t think its inappropriate now, to ask you why?” Merik seemed level-headed now, and scarier, completely reasonable. Then she pinpointed it. That was it. That was his motive: Persuasion. He wants me to excuse his guilt, or to tell him he is innocent. I'll do neither. She resolved. He was put behind bars for murder. Something like that could never be washed away so easily with words.

“I have a few reasons, however I’ll offer only one kindly. I don’t think people should live their lives inside cages. There are much more proactive things to do with our time here. And I suppose I stumbled on the jail's location, but not by coincidence.”

He pondered her answer, wanting to inquire more about it, but ended up looping around it, “What were you hoping to find when you came here? I heard you announce to those poor suckers in the bar that you were going to the edge.”

“Oh, I didn’t come to this verse by choice.” She paused, savoring the moment while adding a pause for dramatic effect, “I was captured in the lower tiers of Coruscant and delivered somewhere in the dunes. Then a sandstorm hit and I had to travel into town. Barely made it, I’ll say.”

Merik looked impressed and offered a pseudo-sympathetic look on his face. Though false, it was charitable and Caira appreciated it. “Do you know why you were captured and brought here?”

“Nope. I haven't the slightest. I visited Coruscant only for a few hours, it was my first trip there, after-all I’m a soldier of the Kingdom.” His eyes picked her over, her clothes were of Coruscant origin so she explained, “I got these in Coruscant, they are supposed to be elite technology that keeps people cooler in hot conditions. It is armor too, all in a single compact layer of fabric, for diverse climatic extremes, but obviously this one has malfunctioned.” She said with a complaining sigh and a note of amusement touched his eyes. He pressed the on button just over her shoulder and immediately she felt a wave of cold relief envelop her body.

"Malfunctioned." said the Coruscant native with a smirk.

Their discussion was hindered with the still-grueling, but now bearable, heat once more and the dreaded waves of sand before them grew more monotonous by the hour.

Merik grew irritable as the desert heat sunk into their moods. The flames of the sun evaporated their self control, making them both irritable and sun-stroked. A hot quarrel of senseless qualms regarding their route’s direction began as the day only continued and a spell of darkness spewed across the land.

“What stops me from deserting you to die here?” Merik seemed grouchy as he challenged his partner.

Caira regarded him coldly, in contrast, which only made the heat of the desert worse, “It was I who had the better offer.”

“Oh?” as they bantered, Merik hardly thought his freedom was better than the treasure they sought, at least to her. But he had dreamt of encumbering those bars, for so long, he didn't mind compromising his price.

She spoke again, “I know you wont run, because I gave you a choice, reinforced with the ultimate offer. Your life. Like it or not, your own honor keeps you here."

Merik regarded her with narrowed eyes, interrogating her posture which seemed to grow into an intimidating shadow. The sudden tension in his expression was bold but she admired his effort, “And I offered you my service, you freed me, and I am forever in your debt. IS that what you wanted me to say?”

“Nope.” Caira admitted, never commending defeat.

Merik scoffed, deflated.

“I want you to realize I did it without expecting your gratitude. Or what you had to offer.” Caira now spoke of fundamental beliefs. Merik couldn't give a damn, but somehow found his ear inclined.

"Oh?" His eyebrows raised at the notion, though the effort was lost in the waves of heat that made even moving their feet a feat.

“Better still, it appears you reluctantly display your gratitude and still deliver me across the desert, to treasure, and a gate which awaits our arrival. So no matter what, I’ll have something to show for what you have given to me already. Even if we don't meet Omni.” Caira’s mind went to unravel the map as Merik grew suspicious.

“So.. you value my experience as a guide more than the treasure and finding Omni?” This revelation astounded him, and even for a man as smart as he, he could not fathom how stupidly simple and impossibly ignorant this girl was. Her nobility was something he had never known. Yet in place of pride of her self-imposed belief in justice, she had humility. This gave him perspective on his own pride, which now seemed worth a little less.

“Its a treasure in itself. I was lucky to find you.” she smiled though the flattery went beyond him though she held her breath after and desired not to reveal too much. This complement was a careless slip of her tongue but Merik continued on with a bit of a slur in his speech.

“Whatt are you after?” Merik wanted to know her motive, what did she seek the white deity for? Every prime met Omni once, there was nothing special about meeting him again. Merik knew he had once made it very far in this journey, only to be stopped at the very end, by something unexpected. Never had he pursued Omni again. At least until this girl had come along.

“That’s for me to worry about. You may find my evasion deceitful but not all purposes are as they seem, even our search for your reward," Caira mentioned how she planned on paying him for his services -by delivering him safely to some buried treasure only he knew where to find- in this way, their deal worked both ways. Neither benefited from the other dying. It was a nice incentive. "Has taken us on a perilous journey. Sure the threats you speak now may make you feel better, but it tarnishes the bond of our current partnership and agreement.” A pause, “But I don't think you mean them, and that this is a momentary lapse in judgement. I believe we can reconcile if I say that I will tell you later why I wish to seek out Omni. I think this is generous as you have done a favor to me by insuring my safety in this mutual situation. Especially because I do not know exactly what sort of destination I am chasing.”

“Well said.” He settled on those words, and decided that it was quite dangerous by not telling her each of their destinations. Yet in the same way, this was how he ensured his own survival, and how he made sure he remained useful. The 'acting' was up as he let a coy smile creep across his cheekbones, “Fair enough.” His composure seemed to rationalize from its previous frenzy during the instant she had revealed her resolve. Its impact was impressive. He admitted to himself.

She was impressive.

While Caira was unsure what to make of this sudden change of mood, she wondered its origin as sympathetic eyes fell on Merik, who had seemingly suffered from a case of desert delirium. It wasn't a real thing, but simply defined the change in a man after he had spent too long in the desert. And if anyone, the murderer before her had been subjected to it more times than naught.

With all his unmentioned travels across the sand and the unending time he had spent in that horrible cell, she figured he needed a vacation. She also wondered if he had been maddened by the heat, the murder, the infinity that was immorality, or the ten years of waiting that seemed to never end in his cage.

It wasn't just one thing that drives a person mad, she supposed. And Merik suffered only a mild case of PTSD. Still, the merciful girl could only assume the worst and reasoned if her guide went berserk in the heat, she would never see Omni's eyeless face again.

“Here I have a present for you.”

Merik grew suspicious, his last real present -aside from a daily meal- was that of a knife in his back. As he watched the girl fish something out from her satchel, her fingertips grazed the souvenirs she had acquired over her travels thus far: The journal, the small sample of Nexus water, her mobile, sunglass case, the compass, her book collection, and a few other nameless items.

At last her fingers wrapped around the slick device she had picked up in Coruscant. She held it out in her hand to him. “It’s an MP3 player, I figure it’s been a while since you last heard music.”

Merik blinked. Ten years had passed, to be exact. But he wasn't going to tell her that.

His mind started to feel gratitude, before he fought it with agression. What the hell is this girl doing? Doesn’t she know people aren’t sentimental anymore? She’s too dangerous with her unruly care and she shouldn’t trust people like me. I’ve killed people, I could kill her in an instant and be free of my obligation- A thought stopped his stream of thoughts. But I won’t.

While his thoughts remained on the skeptical, his heart warmed as he grasped the music player and put on the headphones. He listened to the beautifully silent hum of a symphony in his ears. Her assumption that he would take kindly to the music was miraculously spot-on. And this would be as close as he would ever come to true peace.

With the many wars that raged within him, everything fighting to conquer it all, but in this moment only the music could be heard. No demanding voices of tempting desire. No slithering thoughts of manipulation or otherwise. No villainous nature ever existed in anyone who was listening to music.

Neither of the warring sides within him had triumphed over another, yet the turmoil of the eternal battle within man: Good verses evil, was now tamed with a single song.[/spoiler]

Caira enjoyed the silence as a distant wind filled her ears and took in the nature of the nearly lifeless desert. Despite how delicate, desolate, or destructive of a form it would shape into along their trek, today was just another day.

A place like this tests survivors. Nothing but time truly kills them. People ran out of resources. And time was the one that preserved the longest or deteriorated man.

It was an intangible challenge that could not be fought; the heat, though not as extreme as fire, could not be quenched with water alone. There were no clouds in the sky, only sun. No flood of water to drown in their lungs and no chill of the wind to wipe the condensation from sticking to their brow. Yes, the desert in daylight was certainly like a clock. Ticking away boredom yet cordoning solitude by a lack of terrain.

Time was the most unkind thing of all, because it made people wait for death.

Over all, it was not much to look at, aside from the wide and open sky that hovered over the plains and threatened to collapse on their shoulders. The touch of sand that her sandaled feet leaned on was grainy and it was hard to believe that just a single piece multiplied by the billionth billionth, created the very dunes that surrounded her.

Caira tripped on nothing but a craggy of edged sand and lurched face first into the dirt below her feet. Merik practically jumped as he realized what had occurred, he was more shocked that his guard had come down this much with the bringing of a single gift, but reluctant to realize that he had taken a liking to the girl and offered a hand up.

Her eyebrows raised. She took his hand immediately, no thanks offered but the remnants of it lingered in the air. And she heaved her heavy feet into steps across the dunes once more.


As they neared the outskirts of the mountains she felt a strange tension overcome her, causing her senses to shuffle frenetically. They entered the territory with tension mounted high, wedged on the heightened edge of the rocks that sliced into the sky and spoke of looming danger and forlorn death. The place seemed to be infused with invisible borders made only of rock and violent authority. Shrill ripples of fear and danger gave Caira the sense that the spill of blood on these dunes would have no more regard than the very sand they stood on.

[Caira Ayryn]

Part Four: Blind Bandit, the Sheriff, and Merik

After a long time in the parched desert, they came upon the dust covered mountains hollowed with crevasses and niches where the shadows could easily hide and evil dwelled within each of the hidden caves. There were whispered echoes to be heard, carried from the chasms before they had even entered the shade cast by the height of the stone. As they entered a large valley, where it looked as though it had once been set by a rushing river and upon a corner they came upon a large deadened tree, with six skeletons on it. Each hung by a limp noose around their boney necks. One of the corpses still had some flesh hanging off of it and as proof of a hyena’s attempt for food, a leg had been torn off.

Taking in the scene of the sun-scathed skeletons, an eerie chill tingled her spine though the day was ripe with heat. Each skull adorned with bones that hung below, turned to watch her, with necks revolving as an owl’s, the vertebrae cracked past a certain degree. Her eyes swiftly went to Merik for answers, “They are.. dead... right?”

Merik averted her eyes with a repressed sigh, “Sometimes they die, other times the necks don’t break. Their spirits are bound by an enchanted noose.”

A frown weighed on the corners of the female’s lips, “So they...”

“They, the bandits, do it to show that this is the valley of torture. Their land. Unwelcome to not only the Coruscant, but their enemies and anyone that doesn’t belong. Once intruders wrong them, they put them there and the cannibals find them and don’t bother to kill them as they-” Merik stopped himself, after all, he was talking to a lady though he could care less about her knighthood. Caira, whom trembled with disgust looked as though she found the words less than comforting. “Its a horrible process.” he concluded. “Worse than hangin’ they don’t bother to finish the job, sometimes there’s a worse fate, but not much trumps this.” he pointed to the skeleton and the cicerone continued his history.

“The name of this dead tree is the Skeleton’s Hollow, though some call it plainly the Hang’d Tree o’ Destiny. Its rather dark.” He commented, not looking at the newest member of the family, the one that had lost a leg and caused a fresher scent of death to waft through the arid desert and into their noses.

The chattering of a jaw from the skeleton resembled the phonetic clatter of laughter that triturated against its jawbone. Her eyes widened as she realized that the skeletons were alive bewitched with their own spirits as Merik had said. His words were sadly true.

“He-he-he.”

It seemed to laugh, one that was on the highest limb, slightly blackened from decay and adorned with a distinguished colorfully woven sombrero separating it from the rest. From its mouth a lighter voice mocked them with a somber song, spoken however, like a poem.


“Through the valley you must seek,
To venture onward in your week,
But be warned, as to the weak,
You must pass this path of screak,
And unto death you must eke.

If you choose, of all, to wreak
In the ides of blood, you must streak.
Whence chomping bones begin to creeeak,
Within shadows the predacious creek.
Be not careless not to let leak,
The filmy blood that you call fleece,
In the remnants of this creek,
And let loose.., Your terror-filled shriek.

As if you do, that of the wraiths will no longer lay inertly meek.
And no matter how fast ye’ flee, no man can abscond, no matter how sleek!
In your last terrified squeak,
Do not blame me for the very death, in which you will reek.”

“That last part didn’t rhyme.” Caira said to the skeleton, which offered her then, a maddened sardonic laugh.

“It doesn’t have to, it usually prevails to have the same effect.” Merik cringed having hoped to not have heard the familiar poem.

Caira leaned her head near his shoulder and cupped her hand, “How come we are going this way if there is such real danger?”

“Trust me when I say, that this is sadly, the best way.”

[Caira Ayryn]

...

Caught in the midst of many bullets, the pair dodged the flurry of screaming metal until they were cornered.

A cocked gun raised to the back of Merik’s head and a voice echoed gleefully, “Well lookie here! If it ain’t the good-fer nothin’ Merik.” A sneer was added to the last part. “Coruscant scum. I been meanin’ to find ya one of the days. Din’ think it’d take me 'leven years, but I finally gotch’ya right where I want ya!”

Coming from behind and with the pistol still aimed at his head, more bandits in well worn garb surrounded the pair and Caira's head also proved to be a target, as when she moved slightly, rounds were cocked and the snouts trained on her.

“Yup, I won’t even waste a bullet iffin’ I don’t have to.” He released the gun and kicked Merik’s aside. “Glad to see you alive, boy... Heh. Fer now, considerin’ what I told you I’d do last time if I caught ye' round my parts. That is, iffin’ you’ve forgot. I'll give ye a good reminder. I'm gonna hang ye’ higher than ol’ sombrero there.” Laughter filled the leader’s lungs and the wretched pack followed suit.

Merik was stoic, and determined to remain silent. It was blatant that he had a history with these men. Something had gone bad with a deal, or perhaps, the man with the gun just didn't like the look of Merik's face. All lines pointed toward a wrongdoing, but the cause was no longer important. Caira was on the other side of their steadily cocked weapons, making them her enemies.

Caira noticed a distinguished scar running over the man’s eyelid and noticed that the one with the scar was a pale blue, blind, an the other brown. “OH!” suddenly the leader jostled over, “I see you got yourself here another whore! Good fer you. Well, not anymore. Not fer her either. Yer pretty lady friend probably had her sights on at me shootin’ eye.” The leader put the snout of his revolver against her cheek, she winced at the sudden heat from the still smoking barrel as he drew it across her lips with a sick and coiling smile.

“What’s her name laddie?” The man turned to Merik while the revolver idled on her lips

“That’s no concern of yours.” Merik said fearlessly. The man stood tall. Far above the bandits, and with much more reserve power than any of the men with blasters and pistols had brandished. Caira supposed that was what made Merik a distinguished man from the city, however she refused to let his origins define him, as she would hope he would view her own orphaned past the same.

The leader pulled back and aimed the barrel threateningly at the side of her head, her eyes widened and the leader seemed to enjoy her fear. But the action played into what Merik wanted, if they didn’t end up escaping this, she would share the same fate, promised by old blue-eye over there.

To the leader’s surprise, Caira chomped on the steel in front of her, hoping to make a dent. He was so startled he almost pulled the trigger, but he pulled back the revolver with a little struggle from her strong jaws.

“Hey Sheriff! This un’ here’s a fighter.” A sidekick jeered and winked at her.

Seriously? A bandit leader named Sheriff? Must’ve gone bad. Though she did see the value implied by the title and the power that it held over the land.

“Heh. Them’s is always the fun ones.” Sheriff said agreeing while his startled expression faded but he still eyed the girl curiously.

“Hey, we should call ‘er Jaws.” One suggested.

Caira stood, defying their 'hostage' situation with a roar of retaliation. Having been brought to her knees by a dishonorable man was never a way to die, even if she was to be reborn again. “Ayryn.” Immediately the gang, whom had not finished playing with Merik -they battered and yanked his hair, bruised his bones, choked his throat and singed his skin- all grew silent and looked at her with fumes still blowing from their nostrils.

“Eye run?” Sheriff translated how her words sounded to him. “How’s that? Are ya makin’ fun of me eye or somethin'?”

“Nah, Sheriff, that’s the name of the girl!” One deduced and pointed.

“Ah! Yes, the un' from the Kingdom, I hear.” Sheriff nodded to his pack.

Caira seized the chance to bluff, for she was remarkably good at it, probably because she had learned to read the truth and was familiar with the lies people so frequently told. “That’s right. Names have power, funny though, I heard of yours only a moment ago.” The insult to his power was implied, and it's challenge bore more impact than any straight label or cursing name she could have flung his way.

“Tsk. Tisk. Women shouldn’t talk like that, they should really learn to sweet talk a man.” Sheriff put her in her place.

"I'm a knight. And you are no man."

This earned Caira a hard slap to her face, however she had anticipated it and swung her head away, casting it with the momentum, almost dodging it fully before he began to choke her by the neck as punishment. Vanity in front of his peers meant much to this man. A weakness she could easily exploit.

Meanwhile, during a her brawling bash of words with the Sheriff, Merik had his own problems as the people he had assumably wronged in the past were now clobbering him with fists and profuse strangulation. During his blows, someone held him at gunpoint threatening to shoot him in a painful area if he resisted the trouncing medley in any way.

“AYRYN.” Caira shouted her title as his hands closed in around her neck, little did he know this was exactly what she had wanted him to play into, she swung him with the force and weight of her body toward Merik, the Sheriff crashed into the one holding him at gunpoint, this caused the gun to veer away from its course and misfire.

“Merik!” she said his name, telling him that the events had changed from defense to offense. Time tumbled with movement and immediately he swung his fist into the chest of another man, the closest and the one that had given him a couple of bruised ribs, the man was thrown backward and gasped for air in the struggle. The next the one on his right, with the gun was lurched away with a wave in the air and shoved him with invisible force. Following this motion, he drew his pistol and fired laser shots at the rest of the crusaders and depleted their forces one by one. Strangely enough, he was able to evade some of the firepower because of the beating they gave him, a man can’t draw his gun if his hand is in a fist.

Caira had barely drawn her sword. But now the Sheriff stood alone, two against one and unarmed for in the chaos of it all, his pistol had fallen in the sand. “You made a mistake, Sheriff[/].” Merik spat out the words, his eyes growing with glinting anger. In his injured state, he looked only more ruthless, covered in sand and his hair was grossly tangled, and his face was splattered with small specks of darkened, dried blood.

“You didn’t kill me when you had the chance! Just like last time. But let me say this, you won’t get another chance to kill me. And this time I’ll make sure [i]you are dead.” Merik raised his revolver now, aiming it at his enemy's head.

“More will come to avenge me!” the Sheriff said, never one to plead for mercy on his deathbed. A respectable bandit, it was too bad he wasn't a loyal friend.

A villainous smile grew on half of Merik’s face as he shot the Sheriff in the abdomen and waited a very painful second (especially for the Sheriff) before shooting him in the heart and ending his misery. For a moment, he forgot Caira.

“It’s mutiny boys!” Merik laughed mordaciously in his authority asserted by his power as the injured men, and fallen men who were consequently unable to move. Some grumbled on the ground drenched in their own blood, all bleeding out, all waiting to die. Merik alone had just eradicated an entire gang of bandits. In less than a minute. The defeated group had now left their corpses for the buzzards.

“Some El Dorado eh? Lets get out of here.” he said to Caira after carefully inspecting the slap his enemy had given to her face and their shoes in the sand padded onward.

[Caira Ayryn]

They had distanced themselves from the area when she found herself commenting, “That was some great gunslinging..” she attempted to stifle a complement for him both saving their lives despite the horde of needless death he left in his wake. The soldier decided not to bring that part up.

It follows him like a shadow. Always close behind, be weary. The valley they walked in seemed to haunt her with unspoken yet doubt-stirring words.

“Guns don’t have much mercy, they get the job done quick and ask questions later. Swords are more for chivalry... An honest weapon I’d say, but only to an extent. It fits you, unless you know some magic. In every case, weapon or unarmed, you must know your enemy if you are going to defeat him. But in my opinion nothing is more honest than a bullet through someone’s head and I’m sure at least some of these bandits would agree.”

...

They continued to walk in the sand-encased basin, Caira was thankful for the chill of the shade after being subjected to the eternal heat of the desert and the very painful sunburned skin, however with the shade brought with it an ominous sense of mystery. Beyond her range of senses, every time her right foot would step on the sand, she could hear the low murmurings or pitter patter of creatures.

She cast a look over to Merik, whom seemed disconcerted and was ineffectively wiping away the blood from his attire as he probably found it made him look like a weak piece of pray, rather than the predator that he was.

“Merik..” she waited for him to turn, “I think something is following us.” Her tone had turned into a silent whisper. As he turned to her, his lazy expression suddenly hinged with that of a thunderbolt of striking energy.

“DODGE!” He lunged at her and tore her body down into a dense patch of sand an rock, her skull ricocheted off of a rock protruding from the gorge’s wall.

[Caira Ayryn]

Following his advice was the lovely sound of explosion, rocks plummeted towards them and skipped right over the pair’s heads, as they were under just enough of a ledge to block the rolling rocks from crushing them. Piles of rock surrounded them and engulfed the valley. They were buried alive, but luckily not crushed, and in the darkness there was light and air pockets to keep the sand spiders away. The stones surrounded them and they were forced to crouch in the small dark space:
They were trapped.

With a swift look of unspoken agreement, they keenly watched through separate holes to find what had ambushed them. From Caira’s end, it was a poor view, so she used her senses to hear some rocks clattering as a couple small creatures began moving rocks out of the way to find their dead remains. What happens when they don’t find us? I better be ready to fight on Merik’s command.

Sensing five or six small creatures padding lightly over the sand, she noted that they were in the shape of mice - no, rats. There was a group of them, they wore rags for clothing and had matted grey and sand-spotted fur. Ticking sounds came from their feet and jaws that had outlined their abnormally sharp and orange-stained teeth.

Caira froze and gulped when it struck her that they were the prey.

They seemed to have a method of communication and were listening for movement, signs of life, or groans with the satellite ears perched on their small heads. Beady eyes moved toward Caira’s direction and the three foot tall creature rubbed its meaty paws together and began to dig a few feet away, tossing bits of clumped rock until finally, when Caira was surely ready to move the massive rock in front of her and surprise them, the rat ceased. Revealing something that had been hidden below their feet. It was the carcass of a crushed sand ray.

“What about the big ones?” One of the creatures said, with the intent that his arduous plan payed off.

“Saw them disappear at the last second, I did!” Another weasely figure with a bloodstained pelt, shifted his conniving eyes around the freshly formed dam of rock.

Caira didn’t like the look of those creepy little rats and Merik had later told her to let them be, rather than to attack and wipe out this bunch only to wait for a wave of an entire colony to track them down. Apparently rats were fertile and had many numbers. Something in her gut told her it was dangerous to let the creeps be, but after a while, they disappeared without much success from their planned ambush and climbed from their tomb.

“KNEW IT! I DID!” A voice shouted and pointed to the two whom revealed themselves in the dimmed light of dusk. The creature spoke, with words. “The others didn’t believe me, but I knew my prey hadn’t gotten away that easily!”

“SCOUNDREL!” Merik shouted and lunged to throw a well-meant punch at the rat.

But the creature was quick on its feet and evaded his throw with ease. Weak but they use explosives to do the work for them. she noted and followed the swift thing’s movements with her eyes.

“Hah! Ya’ know I’m the best at what I do! The Rat King will be pleased... Yes, yes. Master will be very pleased.”

Merik knocked the beast out with his telekinetic power, silencing the excited rattle of its jittering jaws and ticking teeth.

“What do we do with it?” She voiced, looking at it's carcass.


“Leave it here, one of its peers will assume a delayed rock fell or that it was the creatures of the night. Dusk is soon falling.” Merik was right. The female had noted that the creature had bashed its head on a rock severely, and that he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

“More.. creatures?” She asked of the desert.

“Irrational things. Hunters and predators this time, they take cover in the night, because of the dense size of their bodies. Not like these pitifully weak morsels.”

Caira supposed power could be hidden or disguised in the night. Though it could be combined with lithe stealth to make an even more deadly combination. They were in the mountains and who knew what the darkness would bring?

[Caira Ayryn]

“Hope you’re alright with pushing on without sleep. People who stop in this valley and decide that there’s time for just ‘one hour’ of shuteye are usually those whom get the worst fate. Our numbers are small but it is best we continue through the night.”

They had encountered a group of bandits, which her companion single-handedly defeated without so much as an unruffled hair. The bandits -to the immoral man’s mind- seemed predictable, unlike the beasts of darkness and the groups of cannibals that had yet to make themselves known.

Caira nodded in response, not wanted to create any extra sound. They had been traveling for more hours than she could count, but the shade had made the extended hours bearable.

[Caira Ayryn]

Part Five: From Bounty Hunter to Bandit, a Testimony of Fate

"So, you're a bounty hunter are you?" Merik inquired. "You work for the state?" His shifting eyes slanted, his mouth coiled to almost a disappointed and hostile frown.

"How did you..." She muttered, he signaled only with the tip of his index finger, touching to the side of his head and implying his power.

"I took a quick peek, hope you don't mind." His lips thinned into a bit of a threatening smile.

"What of it, I hunted a bounty. But I'm sure you saw what I did after." Caira replied, unashamed.

"Are you afraid to kill a man, or sentence him to his inevitable death? I wasn't sure why you freed that..." he struggled for the word, "Prime."

Caira raised her eyebrows, making him ask her, as it seemed he couldn't read everything on her mind. "Why did you?"

She paused, then she mused, "Ah, it is funny I suppose now that I think of it, two in a row, but honestly, I believe I'm still trying to figure that out. I think the answer will come with time, but I will have to wait to truly know."

"Wise words, girl." Merik muttered out of the side of his mouth. Still, Caira seemed to enjoy his presence, because it could have been much colder and more alone in the night, without his subtle company.

As their trek continued, it seemed that every human foe that could have pursued them, did. Shadowed creatures, usually reptilian but some not so, followed closely behind and haunted in the outsider’s footsteps, never taking the chance to strike but always leaving the two travelers on-edge.

Caira chased the darkness with the light of her sword while some creatures fled and others became more enchanted. With a few slashes, the pair were on the run, as a stampede of glowing snakes cascaded from the hollows of the mountains and rained down on them.

After they outran the sleek reptilian creatures and night turned into day, yet another band of outlaws enclosed on the out-of-station pair of Primes.

“Yer kind ain’t welcome here.” The bandit said.

“Let us pass and we will be on our way.” Merik warned.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Prime.” The tone was harsh, and laden with a threat.

Merik tweaked his face, obviously used to manipulating anyone he crossed paths with. It seemed he even had an easier time reading people's minds when they were secondaries. Caira also noticed that there were some conditions to this, but it didn't effect the use of such a pardonable skill. Apparently, the use of words would have lead them nowhere, as soon pistols were drawn and a blaze of bullets followed.

Caira battled with her sword, and explosions as the bandits fell one at a time and Merik covered Caira from behind a rock. A lull soon descended on the field and the bodies of secondaries littered the sand.

“What are you doing?” Merik shouted, aghast at Caira.

“Showing him mercy.” She answered the question pertaining to her own triage of action, without a second thought. Her sword had been inches from his neck, but she pulled it away upon the defeated's request.

“What? Don’t you understand?” He responded sharply, “These bandits are murderers. They exist out here, surviving outside of the law because what they are doing is against it. The same law you abide and serve in Camelot. The same law your own morals agree with," he was doing it. He was attempting to manipulate her and she was aware of it, though perhaps he had a reason. "They are killers and don’t deserve your precious mercy. Everyone out in these lands, especially those that attack you, have given up their right to your morals, as they have a different sort of morality that involves the very absence of it. And they've have plenty of resolve to die for their way of life. Because they certainly don’t care if you do.”

“But, if I asked to be spared, setting aside my honor, I would hope they would grant me the same respect” As they were talking, the wounded bandit began to inch his way away from the two and crawl toward his carbine rifle.

“How many people, and I mean actually innocent people do you think this one has killed alone? A few.. Hundreds? Not all good men, but many, in bloodied and insufferable conditions, heinous ambushes, and organized slaughter all for the sake of their own lustful greed.” His words were sharp and had consequence.

“I don’t...” Caira was beginning to find that the reality out in the desert, was harsher than the heat. Her voice faltered a bit.

“So many, for the sake of only themselves. That is the true evil of men. You have to be aware of it, if you are to choose to become a victim of it.” Merik answered, trying to get the naive girl to harden her perspective on the waste of a single bullet verses the waste of a life.

“What about you? I let you go when I knew you were guilty.” She pointed out plainly.

“I offered you incentive.” he riposted, a slaying expression fell on the brim of his eyes.

“True, but I didn’t have to accept.”

“Sure, sure, yet you had other things in mind at the time and I of course, had everything to gain. You had nothing to lose. And you yourself had more than one reason to free me.”

"That is where you are wrong. I lost something in the jail that I won't get back."

Merik read her mind, feeling the answer with his own, and nearly scoffed. "What of him?" His attention went to the man on the ground.

“He has the remnants of his life to gain from it and he might just show someone else mercy one day. That is where choice comes into play."

He waited while Caira explained, "You see Merik, I can’t always be everywhere at once, injustice can strike anywhere, but... If I try hard enough, my legacy might just live on in someone else’s thoughts, words, or actions. My example: An offering of peace which has a chance to change someone’s mind. Its all we can do sometimes in this world, and you of all people know something about that. And because they have had a chance -a chance at redemption or hope- the only source of true power in existence and it is through this, a choice of mine can mean more than a single life, even in my absence.”

Merik blinked for a moment, he had thought this trip was about her finding the treasure, more and more it seemed he was proven wrong as he vaguely realized that she was teaching him humanity. He was left wondering if that had been her point of freeing him all along.

Caira wasn’t sure what Merik, a Prime thought he had to lose from letting this one man go but perhaps there was some darkness within him that he saw that she didn't. She had fought for the life of the stranger, but a they both now took the time to look over at her gestural pointed index finger, only to find the subject of their heated exchange had vanished from their view.

“Darn, now look what you’ve done! He’s gotten away! And he will inform the others of our location and our abilities. There is more danger in taking a chance that someone will change, than there is in one man’s death. What do you have to say about that?” Merik spoke, his tone stating that facts were facts.

Caira offered a single word to him, “Evolution.” Merik, in response, curled an eyebrow, unsure of her meaning or allusion and pronounced his curiosity.

“Individuals in life must grow in order to live and progress. Survival of the fittest applies even in the most modern of times and failure will be taken care of by this specific form of fate. Why should I have to deal the final blow? It does not show strength, nor of capability. This is the most valid truth, if one doesn’t grow, they cannot survive. It is in this finality that the rest tends to... Take care of itself. Facts are facts. Someone else will kill him eventually but every chance I can take, to change a single man’s fate despite at the risk of my own, can mean the world and a better future. And it is a risk that I am willing to take because I want to teach as well as grow. And because I believe that what I choose to do is right.”

[Caira Ayryn]

From Bounty Hunter to Bandit, De-evolution?

Merik hadn’t realized how crazy his companion was. She was practically playing Russian Roulette with her own destiny. And he was merely a variable in her strategy. Luckily, they were nearly there and he could finally get rid of her and be on his merry way..

Mid-day had approached with a tremendous and treacherous heat. “This heat is hotter than Diablo himself!” Merik exclaimed looking for distraction and words seemed to be an easy avenue, “So what are you going to do when you leave the Endless Dunes?” He inquired hoping to get his mind on any other verse but this one.

“Well, I'm going to find Omni. Even if I have to travel the ten verses to get there!” Caira spoke with a resounding determination that sprung from a hidden well of willpower.

“Twelve.” Merik mentioned.

“Hm?" There was a slight tilt of her head.

“There are twelve verses, maybe even more, though it depends on which ones you count-”

A rock suddenly whistled through the air, deployed by a slingshot the size of a crossbow. In a flash, Merik was hit with this hurtling rock on the back of the head and quickly doubled over on his knees in agony as the bloodied crimson stone rolled to the sand.

When Caira’s eyes descended on the varmint that had deployed it, she couldn’t help but to stare at the bald, buff and pink-skinned man wearing only a small dingy tarp around his waist. The troglodyte made a screeching bellow that acted as a stomach-curtling war cry. The horde of heathens tumbled from their advantageous crests among the peaks and charged at the Primes with masculine adrenaline as an arch of spears began to fall in a single surge from the sky.

She didn't have to ask, she knew these were no bandits. The cannibals had come.

Caira had unsheathed her blade as the battle ensued as she cut and batted away a few of the imposing spears while swatting at the beings who stunk of decaying blood and seemed to have crimson stains, each around their mouths.

As their pack members began to fall, despite their seemingly endless numbers, a single whistle pierced her ears as deployed from the chief followed by a strange sort of scowling and disparate grunts. The siege was halted. The largest, and their leader, cocked his head to the side as he sized the pair up.

Merik was no longer keeled over on the ground and had found himself in a half kneeling position, fending those who swarmed him away with air, however the gash in his head didn’t want to stop leaking as an endless trickle seemed to drive the beastly men rabid with growling hunger.

The leader approached and Caira’s sword aimed to decapitate his head. The amused cannibal grasped the edges of the sword in his fist with as though he would turn her weapon to dust. All this while keeping a maintaining a challenging eye contact between the two Primes. One a dignified swordsman, the other a reprehensible cretin.

Disgust filled her as she looked into the vacant eyes of the almost-man.

Their eyes dueled in the glinting of the sun. A wordless confrontation of dominance and power slung forth with each unmatched gaze. Destruction crackled in their wake as the presence of the horde faded into the back round and the abrasive sound became nothing more than an indignant hum. It was only the two enemies hashed in the cull of cannibal men. When the forthright male grew ready to speak it was as though he had derived the knowledge he had sought from her eyes, her stance, and her refusal to concede defeat. As the fueling heat from his gaze began to dissolve into the desert air, a bullet whizzed into the side of her head.

THWACK!

And just like that, the emblazoned light of the desert went out.

[Caira Ayryn]

The Prime was hit with a bullet, however there was no instantaneous death to be brought from the heavy pounding of the lead ball on her skull. Caira’s left eye closed with the shuddering impact as the world swirled around her and the edges of sand seemed to sink into her feet as her balance nearly collapsed inward. The pain thudded loudly in her ear but as she clasped the injury, she felt no blood gurgling from the wound. Death wasn't brought so easily, and the pain would not be relieved no matter how many breaths she seemed to take. Tch.. She thought to herself and swung her body and good eye leftward, trying to pinpoint the aggressor through the haze of agony.

In the ringing of her ears, one of them said, “Don’t do that, you’ll damage the meat.” While batting away the secondary’s aim.

“YOU FOOL!” Their leader, Tartar screeched with an intrinsic caterwauling choler.

Through the illusory winds of action, a large panther-like cat appeared from behind the Cannibal King -the clan's monarch- and with a beckon of his pink fist, targeted the only cannibal with a raised revolver in his hand and a ferocious intense look etched into his ragged features.

The cougar launched itself forward at the command of it’s master, into the neck of the omissive disjointed ally with a steaming revolver. A crimson sea of blood bubbled from the fatal wound and a stain of rouge hemmed around the lioness’s mouth.

The dead impudent secondary was dragged at the feet of the dizzy Caira as a heinous apology formed to the leader as the nearly dead man presumed a strange sense of vindicating humility. Between the lines of the formal regret was something that she did not pick up on, however Merik did as he came to his senses before the murder and validated the dead man not only as an offering of forgiveness but also, a meal.

“It is not so.. Often, that I meet Primes in this hellish, deserted jungle..” Tartar seethed in the gruffness of his voice and within the glare of his squint there was a strange invitation as the pair became his hostage guests. Tartar was tired of his repugnant crowd that he conducted with ease at their submissive obedience to his oppressive coercion particularly influenced by his savage corporeality. The pair was lead at spearpoint to Tartar’s lair and their main encampment as he explained, “These imbeciles don’t understand why Primes can’t be eaten,” As the dead man that had taken a shot at Caira passed on the shoulders of a bronzed man. At least not conventionally.. Tartar added in his mind with a resting satisfaction of his endless display of power and wit presumed over the ne’er-do-wells.

The naive Caira looked to Merik, who grated his teeth in disgust. Sorry, did I catch that right, did he say.. Eaten? Her expression spoke to Merik however his eyes were dulled with the gloss of pain and the distraction of thinking up a strategy to escape this hellish dungeon.

“Don’t worry, I know you won’t eat him.” Tartar explained with a gestured glance toward the fallen enemy as the bloodied cougar found itself prowling at Tartar’s waist with its eyes narrowed with superiority.

Caira remembered the blaze of action and Tartar whom had killed his own comrade. The echo of the gaunt word eat yet again used corresponding to human flesh finally sunk into her thick skull. “So you.. Eat people?” Her voice hinted with a few resounding layers of accusation of the man's disintegrated morality and suddenly it shattered on her: A horrified realization of truth that was the corruption of mankind.

Merik nudged her rib with an elbow as if to say Don’t however Tartar seemed delighted, as if she were playing right into his inclined topic of conversation.

“Yes, you do seem like a delicate girl in that sense. Lemme guess? Vegetarian?” Tartar’s sneering chuckle fell into a frowning grimace as she interrupted his dominance.

“But.. You’re a person! Why don’t you just feed them with the meat of animals?”

“I think that where you are from, the... Policy is a bit abstract.” Tartar observed in a taunting demeanor as his eyes grazed her sword with a Camelot insignia.

“But... You could just as easily hunt for food..”

“Hunt all day for these rotten scum? In a friggin' desert? Don’t lie to yourself girl. These men are worse than I am. I simply conduct them in a way that suits my own needs.” With a pause the bandit continued, “Some of them can’t even speak, whether their words were taken by madness, or that they never learned at all, one thing remains the same of them all. They are ruthless brutes who understand nothing but the singular code of unwavering power. My sovereign in this area is what keeps our clan’s populous growing. And, if you can believe it, they come to serve me.”

“But.. How can you possibly choose this morality? You make them into killers!” Caira spoke to the cannibal as though he were a man she could reason with. She could not see -for she did not want to- that monsters of men were not the kind that could not be reasoned with.

Merik, standing quietly in observation, couldn’t comprehend how Caira was actually arguing ethics with a cannibal. However Tartar spoke with a wiser tongue than he even had expected. Merik wondered exactly how this man's role played into Caira’s oh-so-determined laws of survival and scoffed in amusement at the unending paradox and unending fault within her previous argument of evolution.

Tartar growled with anger, “They do it to themselves. Every man here has killed his prey, some without purpose, others without care. Murder and life aren’t as immortalized in this desert as they are in the land where you are from. Besides, I’ve seen them strangle each other like the snakes that they are. Nothing would stop them from doing it to strangers, there is no order in the desert, and I'm their only authority.”

With a glance that caused a revolt of pure hatred in Caira as she caught sight of the Cannibal King’s synthetically sharpened teeth, akin to that of a beast. Teeth for the prying of flesh off of man, snagged teeth to match the snarling expression the barbaric king wore as Caira finally figured out what material the crown adorned upon his head was made with. It had been a strange looking crown made from ivory that was human teeth. The irony was sick, but not sicker than her stomach.

“I’ll let my wife keep an eye on you.” He said as the mountain lion prowled from the depths of darkness and perched itself at the front of their jail.

Tartar left the two in the dungeon cave within the Barracks that was their cannibal camp. When Merik found that Tartar was out of earshot, his voice whispered and the walls seemed to chant back at him in a snakelike shiver, “We must escape..”

[Caira Ayryn]

Part Five, continued: Gavel Meets Gong

Tribal drums hummed and pounded into the heavens as the dawned turned to darkness and the haven from the heat became the howls of hell the night. A giant fire roared as a feast ensued. From the shadows, Caira and Merik observed particular rituals as well as the clay adorned men as they beat their chests and feasted on an unexpected meal as well as looked forward to their prime-ribbed dessert.

“Praise Omni for giving us an endless feast! It is not often that we meet Primes in the desert, however today, we will ALL feast as the kings of men that we are!” Tartar’s announcing voice reverberated through the cave and Merik and Caira exchanged a glance as she began to hold her breath and charge a move that would whirl into a ball of energy and release itself through the chained pillars of bloodied iron and rusted femurs. Pfft. As if that could contain them for long.

Tartar in his incompetence, had mad a mistake. He had failed to view the two imprisoned Primes as a true threat. It would be the last mistake he would ever make. As a rumble shook the ground and boulders shot out from the side of the rock that encased the jail and sent a shower of rock on many of the chanting and celebrating cretins.

Bloody war was waged on their captors with the pair of Primes escape, until only two cannibals survived. Merik shook his head and launched a growing black orb at the cannibal king, Caira watched in horror as she knew it was right even when it felt like so wrong of a fate. Banishment.

The battle had been won but the leader -no, the murderer- didn't need the chance to come back from the dead with some sort of secondary necromancy (which Merik had heard rumors about, growing in the Pale Moors.)

A pool of darkness grew at his feet as Tartar, the Cannibal King, grasped the last edges of land and held onto the Omniverse, fighting his fate to be plunged into the depths of hell. In a last strike he commanded his pet cougar, Elise, not to save him, but to take vengeance out on his attackers. The cat’s claws grappled toward Merik’s neck, Caira’s sword speared the oncoming cat but did not stop its momentum as it continued forward and slipped with the sword as it's carcass fell down on its dangling master. Banishing them both into the Underverse until the ends of time or at least until Diablo stole back the throne.

Caira spoke some last words to the echo of the man’s dreaded existence, “Even you can’t truly believe that man is as fateless as you are.” The portal closed with the swiftness of a jarring guillotine and the two unscathed Primes both released a simultaneous sigh of relief as the portal to Endless Death disappeared. However, the grim silence of a lost "King" didn’t last for long.

Stirring from beneath a boulder was a cannibal pinned by one of its legs as it grunted and pawed its claw like fingers into the sand as though he would dig his way from the weight of the boulder above him. By it's animalistic gestures, the two could tell that the man couldn't speak.

Caira stared at the cannibal, it was no different than a beast that could not speak words. Yet this one chose who rather than what for food. The despicable man made her sick and smelt like sickeningly fresh blood that lingered with that of booze and decay.

"Gonna spare that one too Caira?" Merik sneered as the wounded monster of a man grasped for its last meal, a piece of rotting pink flesh. It hadn’t been attempting to dig an escape, it had been reaching for one of his companion's dismembered part.

Disgusted, she shook her head and borrowed Merik's pistol. Caira didn't even speak to the beast who made a chomping last effort to gnaw at her ankle before she stepped a bit closer closer and shot him, and let the bullet be the judge.

[Caira Ayryn]

Part 6: Apart

A fork formed from rock, is what the strolling pair came upon near the end of the valley. Merik looked surprised to see it, and had even brought out his map for reference. "Well, Caira, I hate to tell you. But this isn't on my old map nor the updated version. Meaning this is a trap set up by another gang. Meaning," he sighed with anguish, "One of these leads to certain doom and there is no way to tell which..."

The pair spent some time investigating the sculpted rock, and it was evident neither pathway had used a chisel to create the tunnel through the rocky ridges of sand. And each, for as long as they could see or sense, lead straight for at least a few miles. "Man it looks like this must've taken years to carve.."

"Mr. Daniels warned me about the tunnels out here," Caira spoke assuming Merik had some idea of the stranger she had mentioned before explaining just who he was, "He was hospitable to me in the town I found you."

"Ah, sure." Merik responded absent-mindedly.

With a sigh both faced one another and spoke their resolve and decision, "We should split up."

"We should stay together." The other contrasted. "Even if one tunnel leads to certain doom, it may just be a faceable foe against two Primes. No matter the peril." 

Their disagreement continued. "Even if one of us dies during the battle against the unknown doom, the survivor or other will still have to wait, or die as well, in order to respawn at the same time rather than risk my almost reaching you only to have you die from another danger. I won't even mention the other aspect." Implied banishment circles.

"Only one knows where it actually is, which means both members of this team are dependent on one another." The bickering only continued.

"There's a better chance one of us makes it beyond this if we split up."

"But we are traveling together making each other's safety, our priority and responsibility."

"Even if one faces the doom they can still flee from it, assuming it is a foe, and the person on the other side of the wall can just wait while the other retraces their footsteps."

"You are forgetting one thing! The sand and rock in the middle make for a rather ample bridge, is there any chance we can scale it and take the middle route?"

"Nay, I wouldn't say so, the reason we take this valley is so we are not seen from above as easily. The cliffs provide good cover from the buzzards and vultures which will draw attention to our position (by circling) and bring a refreshing visit from nasty some very enemies our way."

With a sigh, they were mainly at a draw. One wanted to split, the other to remain together and choose one of the pathways- even if the one ended up being the path of their destruction.

Caira thought that both paths were bad and would have preferred staying put, the fact that situation that disrupted their partnership didn't make the decision any easier. "We should rest on it, and then flip a coin when we wake up."

Upon agreement, Merik took the first watch.

Drawing a coin and tossing it into the air, he was most surprised as the two sided coin, that was weighted (as a bit of a trick of leverage in his off-time) landed on tails rather than heads.

This meant the pair split up. "Listen," he leaned in with intensity, one that could make it seem as though peril quaked in his very presence, "If both pathways are a trap, we either unite, or I want you to make a run for it. The reason is obvious. I can't protect us both and you'd be more apt to get caught in the crossfire."

To split up was probably the worst thing they could have done. "Alright, we should shout from the other side of we need help other than that."

"..."

"What if we are pulled away and unable to make noise?"

"Alright, we will do the following, every five minutes we will whistle to one another. And if we don't find that we hear a whistle within the five, we'll scale the wall separating us, or break it down."

"What if something imitates the whistle?" Caira asked.

"Then we'll both be SOL, won't we?" Merik pulled out a pocket watch as Caira pulled out her mobile phone, and they each chose their way: The girl with the path on the right, and the male with the path on the left.

"One whistle means danger, if we aren't able to make time to talk or scream. Also three whistles means I recognize that this is the correct pathway."

With a nod, they both departed, Caira put the map in her pouch and uneasily looked down at the time. Five minutes passed, a long whistle flew from her lips, followed by Merik's low frequency. 

Each continued onward.

A tune of agreement responded again. And again.

Caira could feel his vibrations through the wall, which was reassuring as she could keep an eye out for his safety without him even knowing it, and she had a security measure that added to the contract they had made. None of it helped though, with the uneasy feeling in her gut.

Another whistle sputtered from Merik's dry lips, followed by the echoed chime of her own. She summoned a star -her source of sustenance- after getting sick along the pathway because of a malnourished amount of energy. The girl consumed the star when she was sure no one was watching, and swallowed the bright beam of energy.

After a few hours of their rhythm of song, his began to dissipate, as each Prime turned a corner. Both paused at the corner of rock and knocked on the sides, feeling for hollow parts of an illusion or place to cross. Sadly this was no trick as with the curved terrain they became further apart and their whistles lost to the distance that would no longer carry the sound.

Caira waited, as if a pause now would make any difference from their askew paths. Her eyes swept the 'U' shaped landscape and she then got into a blitz fighting stance, ready to take on something that seemed to be tunneling itself though the ground.

"First I'll kill you... Then I'll kill your friend," a horrid telepathic voice shook from the ground as a giant insect propelled itself into the air, ready to pounce on Caira. The prime had already unsheathed her sword and was ready for action. 

"I won't give you that chance." The girl challenged the pink creature back, and they sunk into a duel of time, each wielding their main element. The worm had its battlefield, while Caira had adequate defense. Only one would be the victor. She stared at the monster, waiting for the creature to seal its fate.

The booming voice resounded in her mind again, "Hard to think clearly with my voice rattling in there... Isn't it?"

"I don't need to think to defeat a cretin like you!" She said stubbornly but admitted only to herself that the noise had made her disoriented. Up became down as she lashed out with her sword, struggling to keep her eyes on the ugly worm-like creature that belonged buried below the surface of the earth. The towering pink worm took up most of the ten foot passage way, while its movements were slow and impeded by its lack of opposable limbs. It lurched to squash her easily with its weight, the Prime made a few agile dodges, yet her sword was tossed aside after ricocheting from the scaly reptilian skin of the beast.

She took a breath in before she charged and tossed an out an exploding dagger, which ended up buying her some time. Now she had the advantageous distraction of a few clattering rocks, for her to deploy a more lethal attack. Eclipse flung from her fingertips and leapt toward the beast in a fearful ball of energy. The worm screamed as the attack tore through its body and injured it so that it seemed mainly immobile. It shuddered weakly in its last moments.

"How do you like the taste of that?" Caira scoffed angrily and remembered its threat to her life, "Didn't have me so easily after all, didya?" She said and bent down to get her sword after a last breath wilted with the maimed creature's pink skin. 

She turned around and looked beyond the valley for a moment, pondering which direction she should turn. The beast upheaved its body, opening a rigid line of teeth to reveal a jagged smile and before Caira could move out of the way of the chomping jaws, a powerful wave thundered from behind her and the beast was thrashed aside. 

The girl turned to see Merik's figure, though his shirt was slightly torn around his collarbone and sleeve completely gone, he said simply, "See? Two is better than one."

"Hmph," she unveiled a glad smile upon seeing him, "Well, where the hell have you been then?"

[Caira Ayryn]

Part Six, Second installment: The Unwonted Truth 

They stared at it. The deep cascading crevice that expanded below their feet at least a few hundred yards and plunged into a deep darkness.

"Do we go around it?"

It was about twenty feet wide, too long to jump. They followed the trace along the earth and looked at the trail it left on either side. Both looked infinite. Other than a lone flimsy bridge that was connecting the two sides. "No. You should go before me, if the bridge falls I can jump across."

"Ladies first," he said with a joke after taking a heavy step on the wooden planks and using the sand dusted rope as support. It looked ready to rip from the poorly attached point in the walls of sand. 

Shaking with every step and with the slip of sand that flooded from the unbalanced side of the wooden planks. They croaked under the male's weight before he made it to the edge and leapt to the safety of the cliff. Maybe he was afraid of falling too?

She found her toes up next and against the board, her body was rigid, hesitant, and quivering with trepidation. Caira tried to trust her reflexes. A tumble of horse clatter followed her hasty footsteps as she began to traverse the old bridge. It creaked and moaned under her weight but the real threat pursued behind her as a male with a pistol, riding a speeding steed shouted, "You ain't getting away that easy!" 

With the reaching of her hand, Caira jumped from the bridge as the man on the horse looked down the side of his revolver and with great aim pierced the rope and the tether.

Shuffled and lost with her own footing, Caira sailed from the bowing bridge. However the momentum of her jump had kept her close.. Her hand reached, almost to the edge of the cliff before her body began to plunge. With great shock touching her eyes, gravity made her sink in the air. Her feet balanced on nothing and her toes slipped in the wind. A soundless scream echoed from her lips. 

A dirty hand came into view and grasped her extended wrist, only then did she recall Merik, whom now held her dangling. Her life was in his hands as the toes of her boots clawed and scraped into the crumbling cliffside.

They exchanged a glance below his tousled hair as he put some of his strength into heaving her above ground. They were close to accomplishing this feat before another obstacle interrupted their alliance with the loud eruption of an intense blast.

"Aww. Well ain't that sweet." The man observed and put a well aimed shot into Merik's left shoulder, causing him to topple over. Not just with the centralized pain of the bullet but with Caira's weight as an anchor. They both began to plunge into the depths of rock below them, as Merik gripped his bleeding shoulder and Caira's fingers and palms scraped the rock and sand wall hopelessly as she plummeted downward. The air spun in her sable hair as the wind streamed into her eyes, causing tears to pool in her eyes.

Above them, where they could not see, another man rode up behind the shooter mounted upon a horse, they had similar attire and both had expensive gleaming spurs. It was evident they were two bandits against the world, or perhaps two men part of a larger gang. 

"You think we should ride down there? Ya know, finish the job?" Said the second man, distinguished by the horrific gleam in his eye that was masked by the dirt in his squint and a dusted white hat.

"Naw," said the black hatted shooter sensing his brother's fear as he peered into the crevasse, "If they somehow did survive the fall, they won't live much longer down there. Even if they are Primes."

"You sure it was righ' you shooting the poor kid? He was holdin' on the that lass." The other posed a question.

"Tch, haven't you heard?" The threat of an usurp of power traveled much faster than gossip,"The word is that a Prime named Ayryn is invading the Dunes. And this 'ere is her recon scout. We can't let these new Primes think they can have power over us just because they are immortal, they'll steal our territory, our turf, everything. Forever. Then, they'll claim it as there's under Omni's command!" His grizzled voice continued, "They migh' as well 'ave announced their arrival to the whole legion, a welcome party is already in order."

"Still, you gone and sent em' on a worse fate now... And the kid's wounded.. The scent of blood wi-" White hat looked down still, before it was too much for the aged man to take and cut off his sentence. 

"You always were the weakest link of our brotherhood!" the voice seethed with molten malice, "But, let this serve as an example so we aren't trespassed again in the future. Go and tell the others I have extinguished the great threat of the great Ayryn, and nothin' is coming back up from Hell, down there."

[Caira Ayryn]

...

The air screamed in her ears. They were almost at the bottom. She grasped the hover board and collected Merik's figure on top of it. As they had drifted close enough in the air, with a great force they were bounced back just as they were about to hit the ground after creating a few sparks on the grating wall. 

Shocked but undamaged, the recoil was just as rough on Merik's wound but they hadn't broken any bones. They had however made a noisy arrival on the base floor of the deserted basin. The smothering darkness reeked with a dank scent and the tending to his gunshot began.

She propped him up against a rock to find his head hung to the side in an unconscious dream. Caira's resolve was to apply pressure on his wound before executing another alternative occurred to her: Digging the bullet from his shoulder.

Her eyes hung on his motionless face, it had frozen in a sleepy grimace. His teeth grated into enamel as the outlet of sleeping away the pain quickly became inadequate. When the bullet was taken from the flesh of his shoulder and blood streamed out. In her hand, a small crumpled mass of condensed and poisonous lead, his head tossed to the side again and the wound dribbled dry.

A striking telepathic wind scratched her arms, tore through her clothing and the lines soon became bloodied against her skin. Merik, though unconscious, was trying to get the source of his pain (identifying Caira as the assailant) off and attempted to thrust the threat away with the intangible force. Caira could only brace herself against. The blade-like force sliced into her skin easily, as though it were paper and cut into her arms so that she now resembled a bloodied silver tiger, the metallic liquid shone brightly in the dim light against the black fabric of her clothes.

Breath was almost visible in the dank chill of the rocks, a trickle of water could be heard muffling the sound of panting while growling from beasts roared in the distance.

The stream, had it not had a sickly smell that would make the lowest commoner hesitant to drink, would have made a good well. Apart from the opaque pools of swirling dark, it was impossible to know what dwelled within; it could have been anything from rotting corpses to monsters that would eat Caira as brunch and still have room for dessert. 

The crack of sunlight reached the bottom, but only through the reflection had it dissipate on the oily walls. The structure was much like a cave, yet the internal pocket caverns didn't hold simple desert creatures. This was a much more perilous place.

The sorceress had applied the Omnilium in an attempt to heal him and now waited on first watch with a book in hand, while another sensed for vibrations that might approach as pressed to the ground. Caira could only wonder if her efforts would be enough to heal his mortal wound. It had stopped bleeding but time and rest would be the only thing to completely heal it, though it wasn't working as fast as she hoped and Caira eyed Merik's wilted posture.

His eyes opened and he took it all in. His body swarmed in a jolted frenzy as breath heaved into his lungs and he moved back as though threatened. When Merik looked down, he found his arm in a crimson-speckled sling.

His eyes adjusted to the dark, "Oh, it's you."

How pleasant, Caira thought and looked at the crimson blood that had dried in the lines of her palms. Her eyes asked a question that her lips would not.

"Yes, I think I'm doing better." He responded as his eyes gathered the events with some displeasure. "I'm not sure I remember what happened after we..."

"... Fell." She continued for him.