Enigma

The morning came quietly.

Rose stirred first, faint light slipping through breaks in the thick grey clouds above. She lay still beneath the shared cloth they’d spread over the sand the night before. The air was surprisingly easy to breathe—thin but steady. Maybe the barrier allowed it to pass through, or maybe what they breathed was the same air that had circled inside all night. She wasn’t sure.

Her gaze drifted upward. The barrier shimmered faintly, its curved surface glistening like glass brushed with morning dew. Only the subtle hue of blue at close distance made it visible at all, a fragile veil holding their small pocket of peace against the wind.

A small smile curved her lips. “Looks like it held after all,” she whispered.

She turned her focus toward Kai. He lay with his back to her, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other resting near his side. His breathing was even, calm — a rare peace she’d grown unaccustomed to seeing. She wondered briefly what he was dreaming about. Then the thought hit her.

Dreams.

Her breath hitched. Her chest tightened as her eyes widened. She had woken up dreamless—another unexpected change she wasn’t prepared for.

For as long as she could remember, sleep had never been kind — always filled with flashes of desolation, cities swallowed by sand, faces she couldn’t save. Yet last night... nothing. No nightmares. No visions. Just darkness. Silence.

Her heartbeat quickened, hands trembling slightly as she pressed them over her chest. It felt wrong, too quiet inside her head. The stillness frightened her more than the horrors she’d grown used to. She struggled to steady her breath, afraid the sound might wake Kai.

Calm down, she told herself, inhaling deeply, exhaling slower each time. After a few moments, her pulse eased.

Then, almost embarrassed, a small laugh escaped her. “I didn’t think I’d lose myself for being ‘normal’,” she murmured, shaking her head.

With a small motion of her hand, she conjured water once more — this time without the freezing transition. The liquid formed effortlessly between her palms, hovering in midair as it rippled in response to the breeze. She tilted her head, watching the light play across its surface.

“Too easy…” she whispered. The thought unsettled her. She had always known her uncanny strength was meant for a bigger mission, something only she could do. And every time she had used it, her proficiency in it grew unnaturally fast. 

She wondered if it really was discovery or more like remembering. She didn’t understand why. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to.

She leaned forward and drank, savoring the cool touch as it trickled down her throat.

Behind her, a quiet groan broke the stillness. She glanced over to see Kai shifting, his body stretching out as he blinked awake. His eyes met hers through the morning haze — then his stomach growled, loud and unfiltered.

Rose smiled, covering her mouth to hold back a laugh. “Good morning.”

Kai sighed, voice hoarse. “Morning.” He glanced at the floating sphere of water. “You’re ahead of me already, huh?”

She nodded, nudging it toward him. “Here. It’s fresh.”

He accepted it gratefully, drinking in slow gulps. The water glistened against his lips before evaporating into faint blue mist.

“Not bad,” he said. “Though it’d be better if you could conjure meat as well.”

Rose smirked. “You know that’s impossible, Kai. Unless you plan to sacrifice an arm for us?”

Kai’s eyes widened. “That’s not even funny, Rose.”

Her smile faded. “Clearly my stabilizer woke up without a sense of humor.”

She rose, brushing sand from the hem of her cloak. “Let’s go,” she said without turning.

They began packing — folding the sleeping cloth, locking the bags, and tightening the straps. With practiced familiarity, they tied each other’s face cloths and checked their gear. Wind raced outside the barrier. Neither of them were happy for what was going to meet them. When their eyes met, no words were needed. Both gave a simple nod.

They were ready.

Rose lifted her hand, drawing a slow circle in the air. The faint shimmer of mana pulsed around them, the barrier dissolving outward like glass turning to smoke. The wind returned instantly, pressing against their cloaks and hair.

Rose frowned slightly at a late realization as her hand found Kai's cloak. “I wonder if I could have made it move with us… keep it active while we walk,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

Kai stepped forward, glancing back. “Wouldn’t that drain you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know yet,” she admitted, eyes narrowing in thought. “But I’ll figure it out another time.”

Tightening her grip on his cloak, she fell in step behind him. The sand shifted beneath their boots as they moved north, the clouds above refusing to break — a ceiling of dull grey where only thin streaks of sunlight managed to slip through.

The wind grew heavier as they walked, dragging sand against their cloaks. The ground beneath their boots turned rough, the sand thicker now with bits of stone scattered across it.

Rose exhaled a long, frustrated sigh.

Kai, leading a few paces ahead, slowed and glanced over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m starving,” she muttered, dragging her feet a little. “At this point, I’d take any monster showing up.”

He let out a short, surprised laugh. “That’s new — you asking for one.”

Her eyes glinted through the cloth covering her face. “The offer to sacrifice your arm is still in the air, by the way.”

Kai barked out a louder laugh this time, shaking his head. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Nope.”

For the first time in a while, both of them laughed — the sound almost swallowed by the wind but genuine all the same.

Then silence reclaimed the desert.

Kai’s steps faltered. His head tilted slightly, expression sharpening. “Wait.”

Rose stopped instantly. “What is it?”

He didn’t answer right away, just turned his ear toward the sand. The wind had calmed slightly, but there it was again — a faint, dragging sound beneath the surface.

“Something’s moving,” he said under his breath.

Rose scanned the horizon, then closed her eyes, searching with her senses. Nothing. Not even a trace. “That can’t be right. I can’t detect anything.”

“I heard it,” Kai insisted, hand cupped over his ear.

“That’s impossible. Every living thing gives off a mana signature. Even plants.”

He frowned, eyes narrowing at the sand ahead. “Then how come I can hear something moving?”

Rose hesitated, then muttered, “Unless…”

Kai glanced back at her.

“Unless the sand itself is blocking the signatures somehow. Or—” she paused, brows furrowing, “—whatever’s under there can suppress its mana entirely.”

He considered that, the weight of it settling in. “Can things even do that?”

“Not normally,” she admitted. Her tone had changed — curiosity now lacing her words. “But if we’re moving farther north, the corruption’s stronger here. Denser. Maybe that’s what’s doing it.”

Kai adjusted his footing, his stance turning guarded. “Either way, stay close. Right behind me — not a step ahead.”

Rose nodded. “Got it.”

They advanced carefully, her boots falling precisely where his had pressed the sand flat. The sound came again — closer, heavier, like something dragging its body beneath them.

Then, the earth split.

A surge of sand erupted upward, scattering in a roaring gust as a massive form broke free. The creature’s carapace gleamed with that familiar orange corruption, limbs digging deep into the ground as its stinger arched high above its head.

Rose stumbled back, eyes wide. “I can feel it now— its mana… it’s enormous!”

Kai smirked faintly through his cloth. “Told you.”

“No, you don’t understand, Kai.” Her pulse quickened. “It’s similar to the Queen’s.”

“So basically, back-to-back boss fights, huh?” Kai muttered.

Rose’s shock faded as her stomach growled audibly with the wind.

Kai's ears caught the noise. “...I think your stomach is happy to see it, right?”

Her eyes sharpened—he was right. That hungry gleam was back beneath her cloth.
Scorpion. Technically crustacean. Close enough.

“Finally,” she said, licking her lips. “Dinner.”