Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One

A Dying Land

The midday sun beat down on the scorched, barren land while massive corpses of long-dead trees stood like sentinels, providing little shade against the unbearable heat. Across the cracked earth, rocky pillars, archways, and stony mounds of earth rose and fell among the landscape. Most plants that had clung to life for the first moon of the disaster had been stripped away or crumbled into dust. All that was left were the husks of trees and the earth. And, just like every day for the past three moons, not a wisp of cloud lingered in the yellow tainted sky.

What had destroyed the land several moons ago was a phenomenon known as a Shift. The realm was naturally over-saturated with magic. The atmosphere the people breathed, the water they drank, and the food they ate were infused with an essence they could not see, taste, smell, or hear. When too much magic accumulated in one place, something snapped, and disaster struck. Sinister storms would descend upon the land, the earth would move, and environments would rapidly change. Temperatures soared or plummeted, and the nourishing plant life would die.

Three moons ago, a Shift had occurred, and the once flourishing region had changed into a barren desert. There was nothing to protect the lingering life from the wasteland’s hostile clutches. The only thing people could do was travel, hoping to survive and find a place that had not been affected by the widespread destruction. Currently, a family of four, a woman, her son, and her parents traveled the dying land in search of a new home.

“Mother,” the young man gasped, leaning against a tree. “Can we take a break?” Without waiting for a response, he dropped to the ground, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Slipping his backpack off his shoulders, he ran his hand through his sweat-soaked hair, untying the long, dark brown locks. “I’m exhausted.”

“Mirth…” she stared at him, hands planted on her hips, though her lips were pressed in a thin line of worry. “The sun hasn’t reached the highest point in the sky. We need to keep moving.”

“Adore.”

A heavy hand fell onto the woman’s shoulder. The face of her aging father smiled sadly at her. He sported a thick grey-white beard, the length of it tied at his chin with a strip of mahogany leather. His grey hair had grown shaggy over the moons of travel. Still, the determination never left his russet eyes, which were all too similar to the color of dried blood. Those eyes he shared with his daughter and his grandson.

“We need to rest. Your mother and I aren’t as young as we used to be, and there won’t be a place to stop if we keep moving.” He swept his arm where rocky cliffs and unusual pillars of stone decorated the land. There was no tree to be seen past the dead forest they had stopped in. “I know you want to keep traveling. I want to get to the Ring as bad as you do, but taking a break here is better than out there.”

The man’s wife stood some paces away, observing their surroundings as she listened to their conversation. Her short grey hair was slicked with sweat, but her amber-brown eyes were sharp with familiar intelligence. Even in the bright of day, there was a slight glow to the woman’s irises, as if a tumbler of brandy had caught a shaft of sunlight. She nodded, agreeing with her husband’s words.

Adore stared at the empty landscape then up to the dead trees that towered around them. Her parents were right. It was best to take a rest now when there were some shade and protection. Finally, she sighed and dropped her pack beside her son. Running a hand through her long, light brown hair, she took a seat next to Mirth and pulled a metal canteen from the depths of her bag. She guzzled the water, grimacing at the gritty flavor as she wiped her mouth. “If we keep traveling, we won’t be able to see the river anymore by tonight.”

“Bénipryroda’s Ring,” Mirth muttered under his breath as he picked at the dirt under his fingernails. He bit his tongue before another word could slip, shying away from his grandfather’s disapproving stare.

During the past few days, the family had traversed the once raging river's shores, which still contained a trickle of water. Today, however, they had departed the river to continue their journey to the Ring. Adore had pushed her family to follow the myth of the magnificent paradise. Bénipryroda’s Ring was said to have all the food they could eat, the freshest water they could drink, and where the different magic-bearing races could live in harmony.

The youngest of the family often resented his mother for splitting off from the rest of their family and friends. As far as he was concerned, he would never see them again because she decided to find someplace only spoken in legends.

Nonetheless, the land was dying. The massive trees that were once full of lush, green leaves now stood as dry, hollow corpses. Their bony hands raked the yellow sky, begging for rain. No clouds had formed since the last rains, and a strange yellow tinge always lingered in the wasteland’s sky. Hardly any vegetation grew in the parched earth, and water was near impossible to come by.

“We’ll have to keep the rest quick.” Adore stared past a stony archway while her fingers dug into the fabric of her backpack. “This is Odysseus’s territory.”

“Odysseus?” Mirth asked, following his mother’s gaze, an uneasiness falling over the family.

“Are you sure?” Mirth’s grandfather asked. “We haven’t seen that monster since Mirth was born. Maybe he’s taken territory somewhere else. I can’t imagine anyone would want to live here after the Shift. Or someone has finally ended his life.”

“No.” Adore’s fingers dug deeper, whisps of glowing violet curling off her sun-darkened skin. “Everyone would be rejoicing if that monster was dead. He would never leave this place.” She grabbed her backpack, about to slip it on when her father’s hand stopped her.

“We need the rest, Adore. It won’t help us if we are exhausted.”

“But…” her eyes darted to Mirth.

“All we can do is hope and pray.” 

Silence fell over the family of four as they settled down in what little shade the large tree provided. Eventually, the group's eldest woman roused them from their turbulent thoughts with an announcement of food. She pulled a package wrapped in brown paper from her backpack and placed it between the four. “Third? Adore? Why don’t you two get some water while I ration the food.”

The father and daughter duo left without a word, leaving her and her grandson by themselves.

“Why’d the Shift have to happen, Grandma? I know they’re natural, but this one was terrible.” Mirth traced an abstract shape in the dust.  “I wish mother would have followed the rest of our family. Then, at least we wouldn’t be alone, traveling the opposite direction of everyone else.” He brushed away the drawing, glaring at the food his grandmother rationed. “Everything keeps getting worse.”

“I know, Mirth, I know. But your mother made the decision to search for Bénipryroda’s Ring. She believes that she can find a paradise that isn’t affected by Shifts.”

“Do you think it exists?”

It was a long moment before she answered. “Your grandfather does.”

“Do you?”

The elderly woman looked up with a soft sigh, a deep sadness in her amber-brown eyes. “No.” 

A tense silence settled between grandson and grandmother. It was broken when Adore and Third returned with full canteens. Adore handed Mirth his canteen along with a glass vial filled with murky yellow liquid. Mirth took the vial and squeezed a few drops from the eyedropper that capped the vial into his canteen. Swirling his water, his disheartened gaze settled on his grandmother as she placed the last few pieces of dried meat onto the paper, wrapped it, and set it back in her bag.

“Now that we have something to quench our thirst, we can dig in.” She pushed two tiny piles of dried meat and berries to her daughter and husband and then the third pile to Mirth while taking the fourth. She smiled at her family even though there was pain behind her eyes.

Mirth glared at his food, bitterness rising in his heart. It further increased when he glanced at his mother. Gnawing on his small piece of dried meat, he couldn’t keep the biting question down. “Mother? Why are you looking for Bénipryroda’s Ring when it’s just a legend? We could die out here. Do you even know where the Ring is?”

“Mirth. Stop it.” Third scolded.

“No! I think we should keep following the river away and out of this wasteland rather than walking through this barren place and dying of thirst, hunger, or getting ourselves killed by a bloodthirsty Jyyn!” Mirth ran his hands through his still-damp hair. “We left the rest of our friends and family to look for some mythical paradise that doesn’t exist. Mother, I don’t want to risk my life looking for this place when there are safer options. Ones that actually exist.” Mirth’s eyes were wide with panic as he stared at his mother. “I’m scared. I don’t want to die.”

“Mirth…” Adore leaned over, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. Her hand fell as she glanced at the yellow sky. “I feel it in my heart. I know Bénipryroda’s Ring exists.” She pressed a fist to her chest. “I want us to live in a place where we don’t have to worry about a Shift ever again. Somewhere safe. A home we would never have to leave.”

She lifted Mirth’s chin. “You’ll make new friends, and we’ll reconnect with our family again. Your friend Leap’s family trains in the Art of Teleportation. Once she gets wind of where we are, she’ll find us. I’m sure she’s keeping tabs on the rest of our family. Everything will be fine, Mirth.”

The young man turned away from his mother and picked at his food. Adore sighed and glanced at her father, who shook his head. The family ate in silence, the hot air increasing the tension between them. It wasn’t until the food was finished, and everyone had sprawled in the shade of the tree that Mirth stood.

“I’m going on a walk.”

“Mirth. You need to stay here. It’s safer.”

“Let him be, Adore.” Her mother rubbed an aching shoulder, but her gaze held firm between her daughter and grandson. “He needs to cool off. The boy’s been through a lot, and he has things to wrap his head around.”

“Okay…” Adore leaned back, though worry shined in her russet eyes. “Just don’t go too far and be back in an hour.”

Mirth nodded, staring at a cluster of large boulders he had seen earlier. “Don’t worry about me, Mother.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Blistering Flames

Mirth walked, licking the taste of dried berries and meat from his mouth. He searched the skyline for danger, but it hadn’t changed. Other than the wavering image caused by the searing midday heat, it was the same dusty brown line marked with stone pillars. His mind drifted from the hostile landscape to the current unforgiving journey. He had left everything behind. His best friends, his family, his home. Everything. All for a place that was talked about in legends and might only exist in the figment of imaginations. He wanted to believe his mother and grandfather that the journey wasn’t futile. Still, no matter how he looked at it, he saw a terrible end unless they dragged themselves out of the wasteland.

Lost in thought, Mirth didn’t notice his surroundings change. It wasn’t until he was tying up his long dark brown hair back into its ponytail that, for the first time in nearly half-a-moon, he saw grass. The withered brown foliage stood almost a foot taller than him. Contemplating whether it was edible, a grunt jarred him from his thoughts.

He froze and crouched low to the ground, eyes trained in the direction of the sound. There was no telling what type of beasts survived the dying lands, and no doubt would they be as hostile as the wasteland itself. But when the grunt sounded again, it was more human than anything else.

Unable to keep his curiosity at bay, he slipped into the clump of dry foliage, his entire body hidden within the grasses. Peering through the blades, he sucked in a sharp breath. The source of the sound was a young woman with fire dancing on her fingertips. Her short, black hair was a wild mane around her head, and her face was fierce, shaped with sharp angles.

“What is she?” Mirth breathed, watching in awe as she wielded her flames, dancing with them.

The red-orange fire curled and lapped at her tanned skin with each spin. When she punched the air, flames roared off her arm. When she swept her leg low, searing orange tongues scorched the earth. Every so often, she dodged an invisible blow or backflipped to distance herself from her imaginary opponent. Then, she stilled, breathing hard, glowing embers floating around her while ash coated the earth. Any vegetation within ten feet of her had been burned away, but her clothing wasn’t damaged. Made of fire-retardant cloth, only soot stained her dark tank-top and shorts.

The young woman dropped to the ground with a sweep of her leg, orange flames billowing off her skin. Popping up, she aimed a flame-filled punch at a nearby rock, fire colliding and engulfing the stone. She glared at the scorch marks, fists clenched as more smoke billowed off her knuckles.

 “Come on, Rekka.” She scolded herself, voice low and rough. “You can do better than that.” She raised her still smoking fist, fire coming to life, but she made no move to attack the stone again.

A loud buzzing had filled the air.

The large blue beetle flew overhead and alighted itself on the rock Rekka had just scorched. She stared at it, her frustration boiling over as the flames flickering on her fists grew brighter. Then, she licked her lips.

From Mirth’s spot in the grasses, his stomach rumbled. The insect was nearly as big as a person’s hand. It would make a decent meal for at least two people if they could stomach it.

Rekka threw a powerful kick at the beetle, sending a wave of fire roaring in its direction. It buzzed just out of reach, seemingly unbothered by the heat as it settled onto another rock, cleaning itself with its front legs. Rekka’s eyes narrowed, and she repositioned, this time throwing a fiery punch at the beetle. It dodged the wave of flames.

Stomping, the fire-wielder crouched and stalked the infuriating blue beetle. Inches away, she raised a hand. The air wavered with heat, and just as it began to crackle, a purple fluid sprayed from the beetle’s backside, and it took off for good.

Mirth clamped a hand over his mouth, laughter nearly escaping through his fingers.

Muttering a string of curses, Rekka spat the fluid from her mouth and wiped it from her eyes. Through blurry, stinging eyes, she glared at the clump of towering grasses. The rest of the fluid evaporated as her lips peeled back in a snarl.

“Who’s there?” Rekka hissed, raising a blazing fist. “Bhuva, Enya, Udia? Are you spying on me? You brats! Dad told you to stay with Mom. I wanted to train in peace! I’ve had enough of you three bothering me.” She thrusted her burning fist into the dried grasses, knuckles grazing Mirth’s shoulder.

The young man yelped, tumbling from the grasses when they caught fire. Grimacing as he clutched his burnt shoulder, he looked up into a pair of sharp green eyes.

“You’re not one of my sisters,” Rekka growled, looming over him as she stepped into the blazing foliage. “What were you doing? Spying on me?”

“No-nothing? I-I just saw you training and…”

Rekka glared harder, arms crossed over her chest. She scrutinized him, a smirk growing on her lips. “I bet you can’t win a fight against me. You look scrawnier than my twelve-year-old sister. Do you even know how to throw a punch?”

“Yes!” Mirth scrambled to his feet, still holding his injured shoulder. “I was just…caught off guard. I know how to fight!”

Rekka snorted, slowly circling Mirth. “Really? You don’t look much like a warrior. What are you anyway? A Meek? Do you really think your scrawny ass can take me on?” She raised an eyebrow, stopping in front of him.

“I’m not a Meek! And I’m not scrawny either!” Mirth raised his fists, readying for Rekka’s first move.

“Sure, but you don’t look too steady on your feet either, Meek.” Rekka crouched, her smirk growing while red-orange flames curled off her bare forearms. She shot forward, flaming hand outstretched for Mirth’s chest. With a jolt, he barely avoided her grasp, grimacing when the intense heat radiating from her hand swiped past him.

“You can move. That’s already more than I was expecting.” Rekka circled Mirth once more. In a blink of an eye, she lunged again, her flaming fist contacting Mirth’s side.

The air was knocked from his lungs as he crumbled to the ground. Gasping, Mirth patted the flames out until smoke wafted from his shirt. Eyes squeezed tight in pain, he slowly eased himself into a crouch. Gingerly, Mirth unsheathed a small blade from his hip and pointed it shakily at Rekka.

“Oh, you have a weapon?” mocking laughter filled Rekka’s voice. “Are you sure you can even cut me with that little thing?”

A tingling warmth seeped through Mirth’s legs. He pushed off his feet, but the fire-wielder side-stepped him and caught his wrist. Skin scorching skin, she wrenched the blade from his hand, tossing the weapon to the cracked earth. Laughter bubbled from her throat, and the arrogant smirk was once more on her lips. “Is that all you can do, Meek? I thought you said you could fight?”

“Shut up!” Frustration and fear getting the better of the young man, he aimed a punch for Rekka’s gut. “I can fight!”

Rekka caught his fist. “Really?” She leaned in, the air around them crackling with heat. “My dad told me Meeks can’t fight.”

“I can fight,” Mirth repeated through gritted teeth.

“Show me!” Rekka pushed him away, hands igniting with red-orange flames.

Mirth grimaced through the pain of the burns, eyes darting to where Rekka had flung his blade. Instead of lunging for the meager dagger, he sucked in a deep breath and raised his fists to match Rekka’s stance. He didn’t need a physical weapon. His mother and grandfather taught him that. And he would not back down until he landed at least one blow on Rekka. Mirth released his pent-up breath, hoping to calm his racing heart, and focus all his attention on his right fist.

“I’m waiting.” Rekka cocked an eyebrow and planted a hand on her hip, leaving one hand burning.

When Mirth’s hand grew warm, albeit dissimilar to that of the young woman’s flames, he rushed forward with a punch. Rekka caught his wrist once more. “Is that all you have, Meek?”

“I’m not a Meek!” Mirth twisted out of her grasp, warmth gathering in his other fist as wisps of teal flickered on his skin. Knuckles cracked against Rekka’s ribs, and she stumbled back, clutching her side.

Her green gaze turned furious as it locked with Mirth’s russet eyes. “What was that? That wasn’t normal?” She gasped through each breath.

Mirth merely readied for another attack, legs growing warm as he pooled magic into the muscles. He followed with his right fist again, wisps of teal lapping at his knuckles akin to the young woman’s flames.

Sensing something, Rekka’s flames roared along her skin. Caterwauling, she flung herself at Mirth, ignoring the pain in her bruised ribs. Mirth joined her, more and more magic building in his fist.

Before the pair could reach each other, a body stepped between them.

Mirth nearly slammed into the man’s chest, his magic-charged fist just gracing his sun-darkened skin.

 “What do you think you’re doing, boy?” Dark brown eyes glare down at Mirth, burning with hate.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

Smoldering Ash

Mirth stumbled back, nearly tripping over his feet as he stared at the hulking man. “I-I-”

“Were you trying to kill my daughter?” The man stepped forward, smoke curling off his bare shoulders.

“No-no, sir. We-we were just sparring. I didn’t mean to hurt her. It was just a friendly match. I’m sorry. I’ll-I’ll leave now.” Mirth stepped a few more paces back, waving his hands in front of his face. He winced. His body hurt with the accumulation of searing burns and aching muscles.

“Sparring?” the man shouted, thick smoke wafting off his sun-darkened skin. He scoffed and turned to his daughter, who stood behind him. “You do not ‘spar’ with anyone but Fire Asili, Rekka. And you especially do not interact with people like this Oṣó boy.” Those words held an even deeper meaning as the man stared Rekka down.

A whimper escaped Mirth. If the man wielded fire anything like his daughter, he would be done for. Even the man’s mere visage was intimidating. Rekka’s father towered at least a foot taller than Mirth, and his frame was packed with ripped, corded muscle. His black hair was cropped close to his skull, and dark stubble decorated his strong jaw. Scars littered his body. He was a man of great power, and those scars proved it.

“Barrak?” a feminine voice questioned from behind a stone pillar. “Did something happen?” A black-haired woman peeked out from behind the stone slab. Her dark brown eyes narrowed at Mirth.

“Just an idiot Oṣó kid who decided to fight Rekka. Nothing to worry about, Vahni. Go back to our other daughters.”

“How bad did she beat him up?” The woman sauntered to her husband, ignoring his command. No one needed to say a word as Vahni’s gaze raked over the battered, bruised, and burned form of Mirth. “That should teach him to think twice about fighting a Fire Asili. Good job, Rekka.”

“Mom?” A girl peered out from behind the stone pillar, twirling a lock of black hair around a finger. Her green eyes grew wide at the sight of Mirth. “Who’s that?”

“Everything’s fine, Udia.” Vahni smiled at her youngest daughter. “Rekka just got into a scuffle, and your dad is taking care of it. Nothing to worry about. Go off and find your other sisters.”

“We’re right here.” Two older girls stood behind the black-haired child. Both sported black hair and dark brown eyes, though, the one who had spoken had wild hair and an intensity to her eyes.

Vahni frowned. “I said to keep an eye on her. Meaning, keep her away from this.”

“But me and Enya wanted to see what was happening. Rekka can’t have all the fun. Besides, Udia is right in front of us. See? She’s fine.” The girl grinned, sharing a similar wildness in her eyes that her eldest sister held. “I want to fight him too.”

“Bhuva,” Barrak warned.

“He’s not a Fire Asili or a Soot Asili.” The other girl, Enya, muttered, trying to deter her sister. “They are beneath us. What is he doing here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should ask Rekka.” Bhuva giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at the two young adults that had been sparring. “Maybe he’s her secret boyfriend.” 

Bhuva was cut off by a sharp jab to the ribs by Enya. Her grin fell when she looked up at her father, but the teasing didn’t disappear from her eyes. Finally, she averted her gaze and bit her tongue when his stern gaze became too much to handle. 

“You do not speak of such things, Bhuva. Rekka knows better than to take anyone but a Fire Asili as her husband.”

As the family continued to argue, the youngest daughter slipped from her sisters. Mirth didn’t see her until she was standing in front of him, a slight smirk playing on her lips. He stared back, the nervous itch to run burning through his nerves. With half the family arguing among themselves, he could slip away, unnoticed, but her green eyes were pinning him to the spot. It wasn’t like the girl could do as much damage as Rekka had done, right?

Watching Udia, Mirth stepped backward. Nothing happened, and he took another few steps back. Then a few more. Still, she just observed him, the smirk hanging on her lips. Then, he turned, the warmth of magic seeping into his legs, and pushed off. 

The air crackled with heat, and brilliant red-orange flames rose around him.

Mirth shouted, nearly flinging himself into the flames that encircled him and Udia. He stepped away from the heat and stared. He couldn’t leap over them, and he couldn’t run through them.

Udia still stared at him, unphased by the blaze encompassing her and Mirth. Even as the tongues of fire roared, towering nearly a foot taller than her as they lapped her sun-kissed skin, a sick delight danced in her eyes. The flames grew hotter and hotter, their color shifting from their dark red tone to pure, bright orange. The fire moved ever closer to Mirth, searing his already burnt skin. Before they could consume him whole, they vanished, leaving a smoldering black scorch ring.

“Udia!” Rekka stomped up to her youngest sister and grabbed her by the wrist. “You don’t burn people alive. Even if they aren’t an Asili.”

Udia glanced back at Mirth. “Sorry.” The apology didn’t hold much, that sick delight still alit in her eyes.

“Maybe she should have burned him a little more.” Barrak turned to Mirth, brushing off whatever words his wife had spoken. “I don’t need you defiling my people. Get out of here. I don’t want to see you with Rekka again.”

“Mirth!”

Adore appeared on the crest of the hill, sprinting to reach her son. The moment she was beside Mirth, she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him close. “I’m sorry for any trouble my son has caused you. He has never seen anyone other than an Oṣó before. He must be getting lonely with only me and his grandparents.” She tried to smile at the much larger man looming over her son.

His frown deepened.

Adore squeezed Mirth tighter. “I’m sorry for my son’s behavior, sir,” she apologized again, adding a small bow.

Barrak grunted. “Oṣó. Always the same.” His dark eyes locked on Mirth as if to say something more. He stared the young man down and then turned away. “Come, Rekka.”

Rekka, with a smug expression painted on her face, stuck her tongue out at Mirth and followed her father. Mirth glared back, but with his mother’s hand on his shoulder, he could do nothing.

The rest of the family followed Barrak and Rekka. Vahni walked beside her husband, the twin daughters flanking either side of her. Udia stopped to turn and wave at Mirth, giving him a big smile. He stared back, barely able to comprehend that the twelve-year-old had just tried to burn him alive and was waving back at him as if he were her friend.

When the family was out of sight, Adore shook him. “What were you thinking, Mirth? They were Fire Asili! You could have been killed!”

“But I was having fun with that girl, Mother.” He avoided her gaze, scoffing the dusty ground with the heel of his shoe. “She wasn’t that bad.”

Adore shook her head. “I don’t know what to do with you.” She frowned at the burn marring his wrist, and a sigh escaped her. “Come on. Let’s get you bandaged up. We still have a long day ahead of us.” Adore pushed him back to the camp where Third and Sapience were waiting.

The moment Mirth’s grandmother saw him, she was on her feet. “What happened?”

Before he could answer, his mother interjected. “He found others. A Fire Asili and her father.”

“We don’t need injuries while we are journeying, Mirth.” Sapience dug in her backpack, pulling out a small medical kit. She took out a small jar of ointment and was soon applying it to all the burns her grandson had received. “And your hand is bruised. How many times has your grandfather told you not to overuse the Strength Art? Your body and mind must be trained first to handle certain Arts before you can manipulate the magic for them.”

“Sorry.”

Adore sat beside her son, running a hand through his dark brown hair, picking out flakes of ash. As she rubbed the ash between her fingers, her russet gaze raised back to where the Asili family had retreated. With a loud sigh, she watched her mother dab another splotch of ointment on Mirth’s shoulder. He flinched from a wound on his side and, without a word, Sapience gestured for her grandson to take his shirt off so she could further evaluate the hidden injuries.

Sapience paused, a hand still pressed to a bruise on Mirth’s ribs. “Is there something wrong, Adore?”

“No. Just thinking.”

“Adore-Eleventh! What happened to my grandson?” Third charged towards them, a map in hand.

“I met a Fire Asili and had a little spar with her,” Mirth answered before his mother could open her mouth. His smile was nervous as he continued to speak. “It was kind of fun. I got to meet another race.”

“And now we have a target on our backs because her father thinks you were trying to kill his daughter. Mirth…” Adore pinched the bridge of her nose. “Never mind. Once you’re patched up, we should keep moving. The more distance we cover, the better.”

“It’s been a long time since you got yourself in this much of a mess, Mirth.” Third stood beside his grandson, eyeing the bright red burns and dark bruises. “I remember the time when you, Leap, and some other friends of yours went down to the gorge, and you broke your leg. If Leap hadn’t trained so hard in the Teleportation Art, all of you would have been a lot worse off.” He unfurled the map, letting his wife finish bandaging some of the worse burns on Mirth.

“Yeah…” Mirth fiddled with a string on his pants, unable to meet his relatives’ gazes. “I miss everyone.” Gradually, he lifted his gaze to stare at his mother. “Do you think I’ll see that Rekka girl when we get to the Ring? I know she was kind of a bitch, but…I wouldn’t mind hanging out with her again when her parents aren’t around. She didn’t seem that bad.”

“Mirth…” His mother sighed. “I don’t know if I would let you become involved with someone with such a dangerous family. So many misunderstandings could happen just like today. You were sparring with her, but obviously, her father thought otherwise. I don’t think he would enjoy having you anywhere near his daughter.”

“Well, if she does end up in the Ring, it’s not like you could stop me. I am an adult.” He winced when Sapience prodded a bruise a bit too harshly as if to say, ‘don’t speak to your mother that way.’

“I say we worry about it when the time comes. Right now, we should keep moving. We have several hours before night falls, and it would be great to get as far out of this wasteland as we can. You never know what’s out there, waiting for its next meal or who just wants to eliminate competition.” Third shoved the map back into a pocket and held a hand out for Sapience to take.

On her feet, the elderly woman packed away the ointment and medical kit. Giving Mirth’s wounds one more look, she nodded to him. The young man slipped his shirt back on and pushed himself to his feet. The small family then picked up the rest of their belongings and continued their trek through the dying land.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Chatting and Magical Gifts

Dusk fell upon the weary travelers as they sat among the pair of tents they had erected. Having just finished their tiny evening meals, they were now enjoying each other’s company before they finally settled in for the night.

“We’ll meet other Oṣó when we get to the Ring, right?” Mirth questioned as he absentmindedly drew a shape in the earth.

“Hopefully. I’m not sure I could live with a bunch of hot-headed Fire Asili.” Adore laughed good-naturedly, even though there was a slight tone of bitterness, seeing as her son had just been injured by one that midday. “I don’t think I would be able to handle everything burning all the time.”

“Any race is fine, as long as the person is good at heart.” Sapience smiled at her grandson. “Though, it would be nice to have a little Oṣó community in Bénipryroda’s Ring.”

“Any race is fine…” Mirth mulled over the words, now drawing a flame in the dirt. “Even the Fire Asili girl that injured me today? And what about Jyyn? Are they fine too? Everyone from our village said Jyyn are vile, hate-filled people that only enjoy bloodshed.”

“Only if they have a rotten heart. Jyyn do not have to kill to survive. Their appearance and abilities might be terrifying, but that shouldn’t mean anything if they have good intentions.” Third patted Mirth’s head as he stared at the horizon. “Our realm is so divided between the different races. I wish it wasn’t. Many people wish it wasn’t. But some people push to keep the division, keeping it from mending.”

“Like Rekka’s family.” Mirth mumbled, the flame he had drawn shaped into something vaguely like a flower. “Why have the races always been so divided, Grandpa?”

“I don’t have the answer to that.”

“Well…” Adore started, her gaze raised to the stars twinkling in the darkened sky. “Some races just don’t like other races. Sometimes it’s because the other race is different from their own race. Sometimes it’s out of fear or because the other is stronger. Sometimes it’s just a deep tradition that they can’t shake and dare not to question.”

The woman turned to her son. “This world is full of hate, fear, jealousy, and dishonesty. There will always be disputes over who is stronger, smarter, better-looking, or most powerful. Who should get the land? Who should get the money? Or who should lead? And some people are just plain scared.” Adore paused to brush away a strand of light brown hair that had escaped her loosening braids.

Holding out a sun-tanned hand, a violet sphere slowly took shape in Adore’s palm. “The weak fear the strong. There is a race out there that has no magic-weaving, no nature-manipulation, no vile power. Nothing. What can they do if they get into a fight with someone who has what they do not?”

“The Meek,” Mirth breathed the name of the race of people his mother spoke of.

“That’s correct. Meek. They are the base to all the other races. But many of the other races hate them for being weak. Others think the Meek will dilute bloodlines if they were to marry into another race.” Adore laughed, a sad smile playing on her lips as she closed her fingers around the sphere. “That’s another thing many people fear. Mixing of blood. What would the child look like? What would their abilities be? How would they be treated? Would they be an abomination?”

“And some people just hate other races for how they look.” It was Mirth’s grandfather who spoke, looming behind the young man, staring out across the land. “Jyyn with their claws and fangs, Oṣó with their colorful magic, Rāhā and their wings, or Fae and their strange abilities and pointed ears. Different scares people. If someone stays with their own kind, they don’t have to expend energy to learn about a different race. They don’t have to forget the bitter ties formed by their ancestors or the fear one person of a race caused them.”

“Being different. That’s all, huh?” Mirth looked up at his grandfather, drawing forgotten. “I mean, I figured that, but I’ve never noticed how prejudiced some people can be.”

“Sadly, it exists within races too. Some Oṣó families look down upon others if they practice a certain Art. If Leap didn’t learn the Art of Teleportation, there was a chance that she could have been cast out from her family.”

“Really? I didn’t think they were that strict.”

“Her grandparents are.” Third gazed somewhere far off in the distance. “It would be amazing if everyone could get along. However, that’s not how the world works. Everyone fears something, and many times people fear things that are different. With each race being so different from the next, it’s hard for many people to accept others, let alone work with them.”

“Well, I’m going to befriend people of different races then.”

Third ruffled his grandson’s hair. “I’m sure you will.”

A moment of silence fell between the family as they watched the stars. Gazing into the inky darkness conjured another thought in Mirth’s mind. It rolled around in his skull for some time before he couldn’t hold it in any longer and spoke it aloud. “What race is Odysseus?”

Adore stiffened.

“I’ve heard stories from the villagers. They call him the Terror of the Wastes and say he’s the most dangerous person in the region. Why is that? Isn’t he a Jyyn?” Mirth turned to his mother, sensing the tension.

“He’s something far too dangerous for you to worry about, Mirth. Let’s just hope we never run into him.”

“But didn’t you say my dad hunted Odysseus once?”

Adore clenched her fists. “Yes.” Her voice was barely audible. “It was a mistake.”

“A mistake? Why?” Before Mirth could ask anything more, his mother shook her head and unzipped her backpack.

“I would prefer not to talk about it.” She pulled out something. “However, I have a gift for you, Mirth.”

Adore held an emerald stone strung on a thick nickel chain between her fingers. The stone spun in the air, a rune carved into its glass-like surface. She smiled sadly at it before slipping it over Mirth’s head. “It was your father’s.”

Mirth stroked the emerald, the indentation of the rune carved onto its surface rough against his skin. “Dad gave this to you?” A flicker of teal magic wrapped around his thumb.  “Do you really think he’s still alive? It’s been nineteen years since you last saw him. He knew where our home was.” Mirth met his mother’s gaze, the necklace clutched in his hand.

Adore said nothing, staring at the sky, sorrow heavy in her russet eyes. “I don’t know, Mirth. I don’t know.” She reached behind her head, fingers slowly undoing the two braids that held back her long hair. “I was going to give the necklace to you when we reached Bénipryroda’s Ring, but…” she trailed off, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I felt it would be better hanging around your neck rather than stuffed in a pocket. Keep it as a reminder of your father and the home we had to leave. Your father would have loved to be by your side and watch you grow up into the wonderful young man you are. That necklace will keep you out of danger. It makes magic-weaving a little easier.” Adore stared at the green jewel that lay on her son’s chest, unable to keep the longing sorrow out of her gaze.

“Thank you, Mother.” Mirth tucked the emerald into his shirt and turned to the night sky. “I wish I could have met my father. He was a warrior, wasn’t he? He could have taught me all sorts of cool stuff. Maybe a different Oṣó Art.”

“I think the Art of Creation fits you well, Mirth.” It was his grandfather who had spoken. “Your father was trained well in the Art of the Warrior. I am trained in the Art of Strength, but you don’t have the muscle for that Art. I see more of your grandmother in you than anyone else. That is why we’ve put most of our time and effort in teaching you the Art of Creation.”

“I could train in the Art of Strength if I wanted to.” Mirth flexed his arm, but there was little muscle.

The young man was a leaner built than his grandfather, who had a well-muscled frame even in his old age. On the other hand, his grandmother had a willowy, slender frame. She was something more of a majestic nobility who could still hold her own. His mother was somewhere in between, not having the same slenderness as her mother, but not overly muscular either.

“And we all taught you how to master the Art of Creation.” Sapience smiled lovingly at her grandson. “Along with hand-to-hand combat and survival in a dangerous wilderness. I think we have been well off without your father.”

Adore looked away.

“So, what else do you think we’ll encounter?” Mirth was sprawled on his back, long brown hair splayed around his head as he stared at the sky. “Do you think other people are traveling to Bénipryroda’s Ring? I’m sure Rekka and her family have to be going there too if they are in this terrible wasteland.”

“There are always people looking for Bénipryroda’s Ring, Mirth.” His grandmother eased herself beside him. “The legend about it has been around for centuries. But, to my knowledge, no one has ever found it.”

“Then, we will be the first.” Third sat beside his wife, squeezing her hand, and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure other people have found it, but they just don’t want to leave such a paradise. If it’s surrounded by wasteland like this, I wouldn’t want to leave such a great place either.”

“But what about your family? Wouldn’t you want them with you?”

“What if I took all my family with me in the first place? Like all of you.” Third wrapped the three in a giant hug. “Then I wouldn’t have to worry so much.” He squeezed Mirth’s shoulder as he looked at his wife. “I believe that Bénipryroda’s Ring has always existed. It’s just so hard to find because people don’t want to discover such a wonderful place. It will take risks, but we are already in the wasteland of Odysseus. We’ll make it to The Ring. All of us.”

“So, how do we get to The Ring from here?” Mirth looked up at his grandfather, gaze drifting to his mother, then back to Third. “Please tell me you know.”

“Of course.” Third and Adore said at the same time.

“After we reach the wasteland, we keep traveling east. It won’t be long until we see a mountain range. We want to keep that in our sight, walking towards it. We are no more than a few days’ journeys when we see the odd monolith. It looks like a deity’s arrowhead has been dropped from the heavens. And then you must follow the volcanic range. Don’t go through it. Just follow alongside it. The volcanoes are close to The Ring, but it is said that The Ring protects the residents within it from any harm a volcanic eruption might cause.”

“So just keep traveling west until we see a mountain range, keep our eyes open for a weird-looking rock formation, and look for some smoking mountains. Is that all?”

“Yes. The legend is cryptic, and that’s all your mother and I could get from it. Now…” Third looked at the ever-darkening sky. “I think it’s time that we get some sleep so we can get up bright and early tomorrow before it gets too hot. I’ll take the first watch.”

With that, his wife and grandson climbed into the small tents to sleep, Third seated just outside it as he surveyed his surroundings. All was quiet tonight in the wasteland. When it seemed Mirth had fallen asleep, Third turned to Adore, who was still seated beside him, stuck in her own little world.

“You should have told him the truth. He deserves it. You know why Hubris left, and you know he’s never coming back.” Third kept his voice low as to not disturb his two sleeping family members within their tents.

“That would only cause more heartache.” Adore brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “It would make no difference if Mirth knew or not. Hubris is gone, and there is nothing that would bring him back.” She raised her gaze to the night sky, eyes shining with unshed tears.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

Swamp of Jewels and Souls

Insects’ songs filled the heated night air. Mirth lay awake next to his mother, staring up at the night sky, unable to sleep. He had crawled out of the tent an hour earlier to find his mother dozing outside. Assuming his grandfather had joined his grandmother in their tent, Mirth sprawled out on the ground next to his mother, hands clasped behind his head. He had tried to fall asleep, but his whirling mind wouldn’t let him. For the past hour, the young man stared at the night sky, letting his thoughts drift to-and-fro. The moon hung low, the stars fading as night’s inky canvas was gradually burned by the encroaching sun’s rays. Dawn was imminent, and his mother and grandparents would wake with the rising sun. Mirth would not be getting any more sleep tonight.

He sighed, rolling over and closed his eyes, trying to settle his mind. It didn’t work. There was an urge to stand and stretch his legs. Unable to get any more sleep, Mirth silently crawled away from his slumbering mother. He stood and ran his hands through his long dark brown hair as he stared at the sky. The dark blue horizon was tinged with yellow while the stars still twinkled, mocking his inability to sleep. It wouldn’t be long before the sky would take on its typical yellow-tainted hue.

Mirth glanced at his mother as he tied back his hair. It had been hard for her to talk about his father last night, but he appreciated the gift she had given him. At the thought of the necklace, his fingers found the green gemstone, thumb pressing into the rune. Unable to sleep and knowing his mother and grandparents would not be up for another hour or so, he needed something to busy himself. Spying an odd shape looming in the distance, he settled on the idea of a mini-exploration. It would stretch his limbs before he and his family continued their journey.

The young man stuffed his hands into his pockets and strolled across the hard, cracked earth. A dragonfly about the size of his hand buzzed past his face. Mirth stopped, blinking at the large insect as it landed on the ground. Cleaning its face with its forelegs, it paused as if waiting for him.

“There must be water nearby if you’re here,” Mirth muttered. “Maybe we’ll be okay away from the river after all.”

The dragonfly paused its cleaning, inspecting the Oṣó towering over it. The insect rose and zipped around Mirth, its long, iridescent blue body shimmering in the dim light of the rising sun. The beauty of it was enchanting, and a smile bloomed across Mirth’s tanned features. When the dragonfly finally zipped away, he chased after it. Not only was the insect beautiful, but maybe it would lead him to water.

Mirth ran, calling out to the glittering dragonfly. The Oṣó nearly stumbled over the rough terrain several times, but he never lost sight of the insect. But his sure footing wouldn’t last long. He stepped wrong, lost his footing, and careened down a sharp incline into foul water.

Mirth gasped. Nearly gagging, he sputtered and spat out the murky swamp water. “Gross.” Coughing, he climbed to his feet, shaking off the swamp water. He grimaced at the dark water he stood in. “I don’t think this would be drinkable even if I poured in the entire bottle of purification potion. It smells so bad.” He covered his mouth and nose with his hand as he watched the buzzing blue shape above his head. “Dragonfly, you didn’t lead me to good water.”

Mirth’s gaze swept the murky, bubbling swamp, eyeing the rest of his surroundings. The oddly shaped, dark trees were what had caught his gaze from a distance. They grew around the swamp, roots branching like hundreds of spider legs into the murky water. Their corpses were massive and dark gray.

“I’ve never seen trees with gray bark. Maybe I’ll see something like them in the Ring.” Mirth rolled his eyes at his own comment. “If there even is such a thing as the Ring. A magical paradise where all the races get along. Yeah, right.” He picked himself out of the swamp. “Not even that Fire Asili believed in it. Grandma doesn’t either.”

He stood at the edge of the swamp and gazed at the trees once more. They provided some shade from the searing heat of the sun, but the foul water chased off any person or creature that thought of resting under them.

Through the swamp water, Mirth spotted something unusual. Unable to keep his curiosity at bay, he struggled through the thick swamp muck to get a closer look. Gold and jewels were strung on it, contrasting the thick, brown leathery texture of the odd-shaped lump.

In the shadows and fumes of the swamp, Mirth made out a hand. He froze, heart rising to his throat and the sour taste of the swamp water heavy on his tongue.  He followed the ring-adorned hand to a neck draped with gold chains, then to the eyeless sockets of a human skull.

Mirth swallowed back the bile rising in his throat. Several horns adorned each side of their skull, along with three horns jutting from their forehead. Massive leathery wings hung from their back. The vertebrae of a tail were curled around a rock protruding from the water. Strings of rotting flesh hung from the person’s ribcage, and tendons loosely held the bones together.

Gold and silver jewelry had been strung around their neck and laced along their arms. Countless colorful gemstones glittered in the dim light of the rising sun, each with a rune carved into the surface. None of the jewelry was tarnished, and Mirth could taste the magic clinging in the air through the foul, festering smell of the swamp.  The jewelry was embedded with magic, lots of it. The Oṣó stepped closer to take a better look at the runes when something else caught his eye.

The body of a child.

The breath was knocked from his lungs, and Mirth fell into the water. Gasping in fear, he scrambled to his feet and stepped away from the body. Heart hammering in his throat, his eyes skirted the edge of the swamp. The more he looked, the more skeletal remains he found. Most were children. Some were just bones with golden necklaces wrapped around their necks. Others appeared to have died a few years ago, most of their wrinkled flesh still clinging to their bones.

“Wh-what is this place?” Mirth clambered to his feet, gasping for air only to cough on the foul water and rotten air. “It’s…it’s a graveyard.”

The Oṣó clung to the rune-engraved dagger at his hip as if fearing the remains would reanimate at any moment. He slowly walked backward out of the swamp.

Some of the remains possessed horns and less human skeletons. Others possessed nothing, their bodies simple like his own. A variety of races existed in the swamp.

The rotting flesh that clung to some of the children’s bones was obviously not typical of the average human. It was like obsidian: black, sleek, and hard to break. No matter the age, all of the bodies were dressed in untarnished metals and glittering gemstones.

“What are you doing here?”

Mirth nearly jumped out of his skin, his foot slipping on the steep slope. He fell backward into the swamp water. Gasping, he shot up and looked to the owner of the voice.

It was Rekka, the Fire Asili.

"I-I-I don't know. I followed a dragonfly here and…" Mirth glanced around the swamp. "Why are there so many bodies here? There are so many children, and all of them are wearing magically enchanted jewelry. Some of the bodies don't look…human. Why would someone do this? Who would—"

"It’s Odysseus’s Graveyard.”

“What?”

Rekka rolled her eyes and stepped into the water. “Don’t you know anything about the terrifying beast? He’s a mix-blood Fä that has been killing all sorts of people. Some say it’s because of bloodlust. Others say he’s delusional. Because he’s such a monster, people go after his children and lovers.”

The Fire Asili walked deeper into the swamp, staring at the first body Mirth had spotted. “Odysseus puts his wives’ and children’s remains in this swamp. He then decorates them with expensive magical jewelry, which keeps them from tarnishing. Only the bravest of people come here. It's rumored Odysseus will know if you steal anything.”

“Really?” Mirth glanced around, panic in his eyes as he searched for the supposed beastly Fä. He scrambled to the slope he had tumbled down, swamp water dripping from his clothing. He eyed Rekka warily, eyes darting this way and that for any signs of Odysseus. Rekka stood, knee-deep, in the middle of the swamp, a hand resting on her hip and a smirk on her lips.

“What?” she asked, green eyes taunting. “You scared, Oṣó?”

“N-no.” Mirth stepped forward as if to show her that he had no fear, but it backfired. His foot slipped, and he went tumbling into the swamp water once more.

Rekka howled with laughter. She clutched her stomach, nearly toppling over into the swamp water herself. “You’re so clumsy. How can you even survive out here? I’d think you’d have been eaten by some nasty beast by now. You’re useless. How didn’t you know about Odysseus’s graveyard? You’re in his territory right now.” Her laughter died down, and she wiped a tear from her eye.

“Shut up!” Mirth scrambled to his feet, clothes soaked in with putrid water. “I’m not useless! I’m not clumsy, either. I’m just…” he trailed off, gazing at the remains littering the swamp.

“Scared?” Rekka laughed again.

She strutted forward, a devilish grin on her lips. She brushed back her thick black bangs from her eyes as if trying to get a better view of the Oṣó. Rekka clapped a hand onto Mirth’s shoulder and ignited a small orange flame in the other.

“Wh-what are you doing? You shouldn’t play with fire in a swamp.”

“Don’t worry, Oṣó. Odysseus would never let the remains of his wives and children get blown up because someone played with a little fire. Besides, I’ve heard he could manipulate black flames, and they are a lot worse than my fire.”

Rekka pushed Mirth into the foul water and planted a foot on his stomach. “You’re really pathetic, you know that? You’re just lying under my foot in a swamp, surrounded by human remains. I could burn you alive. It wouldn’t be that hard.” Her flame grew in size.

“I’m not pathetic! You can’t kill me that easily!” Mirth gasped and sputtered as the swamp water flooded his mouth. He nearly gagged and tried not to think of the dead bodies, including those of children, rotting in the water nearby.

“Then why don’t you show me, Oṣó?” Rekka pressed harder into Mirth’s stomach.

Mirth glanced at the nearest body. It was an adult — a wife of Odysseus. He pushed back his fear and disgust and grabbed Rekka’s ankle. With a jerk, he offset the Fire Asili’s balance, and she fell into the water. Free, Mirth scrambled to his feet and lunged for the woman’s remains. His fingers wrapped around the ruby strung around her neck, and he wrenched, gold chain snapping with ease.

He turned to Rekka, who was dragging herself from the water, a scowl twisting her sharp features. He held out the rune-engraved ruby, presenting the gemstone to her. The tingle of magic in the stone ran down his arm. “I-I took a necklace. I’m not scared. See?”

Rekka lunged. He dodged, sending her splashing into the foul swamp water. Just as Mirth had done, she gasped and sputtered. Spitting water, she glared at Mirth. “You little…”

Foreboding fell upon the two.

The muggy swamp grew cold to the point they were nearly shivering. The urge to run surged through their bodies, but they were frozen in place. Their lungs could not expand, and their throats constricted as if fear was strangling them.

Rekka spun around, the scream lost in her throat. There were no words as the seven-foot frame loomed over her. The man was ripped with muscles covered in sleek, obsidian skin. His eyes, like ever-burning orbs of fire, stared down at Mirth, locked on the ruby that hung from his hand.

“Odysseus,” Rekka breathed.

She stumbled back. From the corner of her eye, the ruby flashed. “You took something from a body… you took something from him! He’s going to kill you! He’s going to kill us!”

The Fä stepped into the swamp, flames as black as darkness itself igniting on his equally dark skin.

Today, someone would die.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

Terror of the Black Flames

“Run!” Mirth screamed, scrambling out of the putrid water, the ruby necklace still tangled around his fingers. Rekka was a few steps behind him, gasping in fear.

Just as Mirth reached the top of the slope, Rekka grabbed his shoulder. Using it as leverage, she pulled Mirth, and he stumbled back into the foul water. The Fire Asili glanced over her shoulder at the looming beast behind them, unable to contain her scream. She threw herself to the ground when Odysseus lunged, but the black flames were not for her. Instead, they were driven into the swamp water where Mirth lay half-submerged.

The Oṣó shot an arm in front of his face as if it would protect him from the ever-burning, ever-devouring black flames of the Fä. When only a searing heat flared past him, and the water grew hot, he cracked an eye open. Along the length of his arm, a shield of teal magic had formed above him. Cracks spider-webbed through the tangible magic, the black flames lapping hungrily around its edges.

Odysseus’s burning red-orange gaze narrowed, a frown etched onto his dark features. The man shifted his weight, eyes glancing to where a long-decayed corpse of a woman and child lay feet from him. His gaze returned to the ruby that Mirth clutched in his raised fist before finally locking onto the young man’s face.

The long dark brown hair, the perfectly straight pointed nose, the strong jawline. He even shared the same eyes. They weren’t the same color, but they held the same spark, even under the fear. The young man would be the same as that man.  More of Odysseus’s beloved would fall by Mirth’s hands, just like they had fallen under the teal-eyed man’s blade.

Odysseus’s burning gaze cut through Mirth again, a slight smile growing on the beast-of-a-man’s lips. Mirth looked so much like his children’s killer, but he looked so much like her. Odysseus’s lips pulled back in a sneer of malicious delight. Sharp teeth peeked out across lips the color of dried blood, and a sinister chuckle bubbled up from his throat. The image of red eyes with pupils ringed violet, night-black hair, a sickeningly sweet smile, and familiar innocent boyish features flashed behind his eyes. “Maybe one day, you two will meet.”

With a gasp, Mirth was on his feet, the magic finally shattering around him,  dissolving into nothingness. Odysseus’s voice was deep, echoing off the corners of his mind like a stone tossed into a damp cave on a moonless night in the dead of winter. Mirth struggled to breathe as he stared up at the muscled bound man. Skin as black as night, eyes like burning embers, and black flames still flickering across his bulging arms, there was no doubt he owned the title of Terror of the Wastes.

Finally, Mirth stumbled out of the swamp and onto dry land. When Odysseus didn’t move, he pushed Rekka forward and broke into a run. He guided the trembling Fire Asili to a grove of overgrown thorns. They dove into the long-dead foliage, doing their best to ignore the pain of stabbing thorns as they crawled deeper into the grove.

“We’re going to die,” Rekka whimpered, eyes cast skyward as she searched the patches of yellow sky for the form of Odysseus. Those fearful green eyes then snapped to Mirth, who had the ruby clutched to his chest, the gold chain still tangled in his fingers. “And it’s all because of you. If you didn’t take that fucking necklace, Odysseus wouldn’t be after us.”

Unwilling to take the blame, Mirth snapped back. “If you didn’t try to drown me or challenge me, then I wouldn’t have taken the necklace.”

Rekka growled, squeezing Mirth’s shoulder, her hand heating up to the point embers were glowing on her skin. Mirth gasped in pain. Then, there was the crunch of thorns. 

Odysseus stood over them, arms crossed over his chest and face set like stone.

“Found you.”

Rekka tore away from Mirth.

“Rekka!” Mirth’s fingers skimmed the back of her shirt as she clambered through the thorns. “You’re going the wrong way!”

He cursed under his breath, scrambling to his feet to follow the fire manipulator, only to trip and fall, knocking the breath out of him. Mirth tried to climb back to his feet, but something was wrapped around his ankle.

A mere vine.

“Shit!” he crouched, trying to untangle the thick vine from his ankle. The dark form of Odysseus stalked ever closer. “No, no, no, no. Rekka!” Mirth screamed, panic engulfing him. He could do nothing, watching as Odysseus tore a clump of thorns from the ground with his bare hands. “Help! Mother!”

Steps slow and methodic, a taunting spark burned in Odysseus’s eyes. Black flames curled off his bare shoulders, growing larger as he tore through the thorns. The foliage didn’t hinder him in the slightest, unable to pierce through his thick, jet black skin. As the black flames wafted off the man’s body, the thorns caught fire, but that wasn’t why Mirth’s heart nearly stopped.

Odysseus was transforming.

An inhuman creature slowly took Odysseus’s place. Brilliant orange gullies split his mouth, a tongue like molten rock slithered out from his jaws, lapping the thick, glossy black skin. Eyes no longer stared back at Mirth. Instead, it was two blazing pits. Veins of liquid fire glowed under his skin, flowing down his thick corded neck and across his bulging arms. This was the true form of the Fä.

“I hope this is the last thing you see.” The voice gurgled, a rumble deep in the man’s chest.

Mirth screamed, desperately tearing at the vines. Tears formed in his eyes, and all he could think about was his mother’s smiling face. He tried to run to where Rekka had disappeared, but the vine pulled taut.

Odysseus slowly approached, a clawed hand raised and his mouth shaped into something akin to a sneer, his serrated teeth visible. Thick, inky darkness gathered around his fingers, dripping onto the parched earth.

“No!” Mirth gasped. “No! I don’t want to die! Mother!” His shaking hands could barely shape a small blade of teal magic, but with one slice, the taut vine snapped back, the blade of magic stuck in the thick plant.

The blade struck Odysseus’s eye.

Mirth ran, the Fä roaring in pain behind him. The young man followed Rekka’s path through the thorns, swearing under his breath when he was out in the open again. Rekka was pressed against a nearby rock, eyes wide in fear as she watched Odysseus claw at his face.

“What did you do?” her quivering voice was barely audible.

“Signed my soul away to the Terror of the Wastes.” Mirth watched, his legs nearly giving out under him as Odysseus charged forward. The magic blade was gone, but in its place was a gaping hole where the Fä’s right eye should have been, black blood shining in the rays of the rising sun.

In a blink of an eye, Mirth was on his back, a clawed hand wrapped around his throat. Odysseus loomed over him, teeth bared. Black blood dripped onto Mirth’s forehead, the young man flinching as the acidic blood burned his skin. Dark flames lapped around Odysseus, ready to engulf the young man in an inferno of black fire.

Then, a blade of violet magic busted from the monster’s chest.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

Skirmish with Darkness

“Mother,” Mirth breathed. He swallowed hard when the Fä looked at the russet-eyed woman.

Odysseus’s burning eyes narrowed before a smile gradually widened the glowing crevasse of his mouth. “Adore-Eleventh.”

The Oṣó woman flinched.

Adore turned to her prone son. “Run! Mirth, run!”

She leaped away from Odysseus, gaining as much distance between her and the Fä as possible. Still, she kept her gaze on her son, watching as he scrambled to his feet and ran out of her sight. As long as Odysseus’s attention was solely on her, Mirth would be okay.

When her son was out of her sight, Adore stared Odysseus down. She cursed herself, unable to stop her body from trembling. This was Odysseus, Terror of the Wastes. The Fä who controlled the barren land and possessed an insatiable bloodlust. The man who took many wives and had many children only for them to fall at the hands of others who wished them dead. The man who took wives and lovers that were not of his own race. And Adore was facing him to save her son’s life.

Odysseus’s glowing eye narrowed as he rubbed the fresh chest wound, smearing blood across his black skin. His damaged eye still oozed blood and fluid. “Your son takes strikingly after his father.” The voice that rumbled from Odysseus’s chest was inhuman, as if the bowels of a volcano had taken sentience. “I’m surprised he survived this long. And where is your dear Hubris? Did he not think to come and save his own child? Or did he unravel your secret?”

A mixture of rage and fear flashed in Adore’s eyes. She gritted her teeth, another sword of pure magic shaping in her hand. Pushing down the fear, she willed the rage to burn brighter and, with a war cry, the woman charged. The blade sliced through Odysseus’s belly and protruded from his back, but the man did not move. Malicious delight danced in his uninjured eye.

In one swift movement, Adore was on her back, Odysseus on top of her, straddling her as his features slowly morphed into something more human. “That won’t work on me, Adore-Eleventh.”

He caressed the woman’s face with an ever lightning caramel-colored hand, relishing her glare even as she trembled under him. “Do you like this form better, Hubris’s whore?”

What pinned Adore to the ground was no longer a demon birthed from the bowels of a volcano. Odysseus’s form was now that of a half-naked man. Underneath his caramel skin was thick, ripped muscles. His hair, a wild mane around his head, unkempt from the transformation, was the same onyx-black that his skin had been. His lone iris appeared as if an inferno was burning within it, orange and yellow flickering, casting its own glow. Odysseus’s recent wounds still marred his body, dark blood coating the right side of his chest, while blood oozed from the freshest wound on his abdomen. His face's right side was also smeared with blood, an empty eye socket staring at Adore.

“Bastard demon.”

Odysseus chuckled, his fingers trailing down Adore’s neck and along her collar bone. “I am no demon. I was not birthed from nothing by a malevolent deity. I am just as human as you are, Adore-Eleventh. But Fä are far superior to any other human race. My blood can stop the curse in your family. It already has.” His fingers graced the skin under Adore’s eye, marveling at its russet color.

“Fuck you.” Adore jostled her arm free from Odysseus’s loose grip. Her fist collided with the side of the man’s head, the crack of his skull resounding through the heated, dry air.

Odysseus slumped sideways, his skin turning dark purple around the temple. Adore scrambled to her feet, forming another blade of magic as she stared down the prone man. Odysseus lay on the dusty earth, lone eye blinking, his world spinning, and mind numbed from the bone-cracking punch. He reached for his bruised temple, fingers hovering over the fresh wound. Slowly, his lone eye locked onto Adore. “You have quite a punch, whore.”

The man dragged himself to his feet, swaying for a moment. “If I wasn’t a Fä, that punch would have knocked me unconscious. Too bad you weren’t trained to harness your strength more, little Oṣó.” Odysseus ran a hand down his still blood-wet chest, smearing the blood across his caramel skin before splaying his blood-coated hand out toward Adore. “But your body is too weak for that Art. All you can make are…constructs. It’s a shame your son didn’t inherit more from his father. It would be far more fun to kill him if he did, but…”

“Don’t you dare touch him.” Adore thrust the blade at Odysseus, though she clutched the hand she had punched him with close to her chest, her fingers the same black and blue that colored Odysseus’s temple. The beast was correct. She wasn’t meant to manipulate magic into enormous strength like her father.

Odysseus smeared the blood on his hand down the left side of his face, just under his remaining eye. "I wonder if your son would have had Hubris's eyes if he didn't have your grandfather's curse. He doesn't."

Adore screamed, the violet blade gripped in her hand growing brighter. Once more, she charged at Odysseus with her sword, but this time he did not stay still. His hand clasped her wrist and wrenched. Gasps of pain sounded from the woman as he twisted her arm behind her back. The blade of magic dissipated when he squeezed her wrist with a satisfying pop.

"Adore-Eleventh, I'm disappointed in you," Odysseus breathed into her ear. "Every walking soul in this region knows not to tussle with a Fä, let alone one like myself." He nipped the shell of her ear. "I walk more than one bloodline, just like all my children. Fire and Darkness is a valuable gift from my duel-blooded Asili mother. Isn't it wonderful that she had to give her life to carry me? Luckily, that doesn't have to happen to my lovers, or I wouldn't be able to make love to them again."

Odysseus pressed his lips to the side of Adore's neck, still mumbling into the fear-frozen woman's skin. "The immortal, beastly form given by Fä blood. Darkness and Fire by Asili. Now, what if magic was mixed into that blood? How amazing would that child be?" His still sharp teeth dragged across the sensitive skin of her neck.

His next words were cut off, Adore driving her already bruised fist into Odysseus's side. The satisfying crack of his ribs resounded between the two. Yet the man did not move from his position behind her, not until the sickening squelch and smell of sizzling flesh filled the air. Even then, the Fä's face merely tensed as the blade of pure magic passed between his ribs, burning him from the inside out.

Black flames ignited across Adore's back.

She screamed, crumbling to the ground. Rolling onto her back, she desperately tried to smother the flames. It wouldn't work as the man standing before her would let the fire burn for as long as he wanted. Odysseus knelt, wrapping a large hand around Adore's throat. She kicked at his injured stomach, but the man was unphased. "What use would it be to kill Hubris's wife when he isn't here to see it? Still, blood is blood, isn't it?" He squeezed tighter, the black flames on her back growing darker.

"Mother!"

Everything stopped. Odysseus lifted his glowing gaze to Mirth, who had stood from his hiding place. The young man paled, coming to terms with his grave mistake.

"His son, on the other hand… It's a shame he didn't have more offspring. One of his for seven of mine seems unfair, doesn't it? Then again, that curse of yours didn't fair Hubris's lineage well. That boy is the only one that survived full-term while the wretched curse caused you to lose the others." The man chuckled, slowly raising his hand in the young man's direction, small flickers of black flames dancing on his fingers.

"No!" Adore drove her entire body into Odysseus, the pair collapsing into a heap, saving Mirth from being burned alive.

Odysseus climbed to his feet, but before he could recover, Adore sent a powerful punch into his already injured gut. Then another to his side, and another to his chest. Again, and again she impacted him with hit after hit, even after her hands turned black and blue from the trauma. Then, she struck him with a monstrous kick to the chest, sending him flying into a half-broken dead tree.

Thick dark blood pooled around Odysseus while he roared in pain, but he was nowhere near dead. Shards of wood jutted from his impaled body, dark with his blood.  Adore watched him for a moment, trying to catch her breath, but everything hurt so much.

"Mirth," she gasped, turning to her son who had not returned to his shelter behind the rock. "Mirth. Run. We need to get out of here. Now." She glanced back at Odysseus, who was struggling against the shards of wood that anchored him to the tree.

When Mirth stepped forward, the earth lurched.

"Mirth! It's a Shift!" Adore screamed. She crumbled to the ground before her son could reach her. It was too hard to fight through the haze of pain while the earth shook violently.

"Mother!" Mirth shouted.

He stepped toward Adore, and a fissure opened. Cracks spider-webbed their way across the dry land, and hunks of stone fell into the ever-widening abyss. A pillar of stone erupted in front of Adore, sandwiching her between two boulders. Another pillar shot up just feet away from the still struggling Odysseus. The man snarled at the newly formed stone as if it was a mere inconvenience while he fought to dislodge himself from the tree stump.

"Move!" Rekka's shoulder jabbed into Mirth's back, and he crumbled to the ground. Then, he was pulled to his feet, staring into Rekka's terrified face. As soon as the young adults were on their feet, they ran, looking for a safe place to shelter from the earthquake.

But nowhere was safe.

Everywhere towering stones crumbled while others took their place. Massive ravines opened up into endless chasms of darkness. Steam shrieked from the bowels of the earth, more heat wafting from the fissures. Entire sections of land fell hundreds of feet while others rose. This was by far the worst Shift the land had witnessed.

And then, the beast freed himself.

Odysseus's thunderous battle cry filled the air as he charged at Mirth and Rekka. Covered in blood and gaping wounds, he was a nightmare to behold. A trail of blood splatters followed in his wake, and rage burned in his lone eye. He was starving for blood, and he would get it no matter what.

"Move!" Rekka pushed Mirth forward again, the pair stumbling as the earth thrashed.

They didn't make it far before Odysseus was atop them. He tossed Rekka aside and planted a barefoot onto Mirth's chest. Yet again, the young man was face to face with the Terror of the Wastes, the monster's dark blood dripping onto him.

However, black flames did not ignite the man's caramel skin. Instead, he hissed in pain when orange fire engulfed his right arm, consuming any skin they contacted. In a flash, he turned onto Rekka. The young woman glared back at him, fear in her eyes. She stood firm, fists clenched at her sides as she willed her fire to burn hotter.

"Insolent Fire Asili." And with a flick of his fingers, Rekka was surrounded by a ring of black flames. She screamed, the fire lapping at her bare legs and arms. Being of different nature to her own red-orange flames, they burned her. 

"No!" Mirth gasped, but he couldn't do anything with Odysseus's foot pressed to his chest. The pressure increased.

"You aren't going anywhere." The man's skin blackened, slowly transforming into the monstrous form he had taken earlier. Before Odysseus's transformation could finish, a fissure opened, steam screaming through the crack and scalding the right side of the man's body.

The moment the pressure was off Mirth's chest, he was on his feet and charging his way to Rekka. She stared at him as the black flames around her died to smoldering grey embers. Mirth grabbed her, and the pair continued racing through the changing land. They could barely keep their footholds, but the roar of Odysseus at their backs kept them running.

Mirth was flung to the side onto a newly formed cliff-edge. With a thud, Odysseus crouched over him, a burning fire in his lone eye. Mirth gawked as the Fä raised a hand, claws glinting in the sunlight. He drove them down on Mirth's chest.

Radiant teal magic engulfed the Oṣó, stopping the claws just centimeters from his heart. The magic encasing him was a thin, solid translucent glowing layer. The emerald that lay against Mirth's chest grew warm as it fueled the bright shield. Cracks fractured through the tangible magic, but as the necklace's warmth flared to an almost unpleasant heat, the cracks sealed.

Odysseus snarled at the stone, blood dripping from his chin and onto the shield. The Terror of the Wastes raised his fist again and slammed into the shield. Mirth gasped, vibrations rippling through him, but his shield stayed near-solid, albeit cracks spread from the epicenter of the hit.

Then the earth gave way beneath them.

"Mother!" Mirth screamed, clinging to Odysseus as they fell.

Then, Mirth was suspended in mid-air, a rope of violet magic wrapped around his waist. Odysseus's form disappeared into the darkness, his roar of fury echoing off the newly formed stone walls.

When Mirth was on solid ground, he turned to his mother. Adore smiled weakly, the rope of pure magic she had shaped fading from her hands. The pair embraced, but it didn't last.

The earth shifted beneath their feet, and Adore was sent sky-wards on a pillar of stone to the darkening clouds. Before Mirth could cry out to her, the entire land beneath him dropped. More pillars shot through the air, and another steam-filled ravine opened up between him and his mother.

And still, the land kept moving. Families were separated, others wholly decimated. Carnage covered the land in both earth and blood. The land had been changed beyond recognition, and nothing would be the same. No family would come out of the Shift unscathed. 

 When the earth finally stopped moving, the dark clouds overhead broke, torrents falling from the heavens.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

Loss in the Rain

Mirth stood alone in the Wastes, drenched to the bone, surrounded by piles of rubble and newly formed stone structures. Rekka was nowhere in sight, most likely having run off when Odysseus fell into the ravine. The fate of the Fire Asili scratched the back of his skull, but there was only one thing on the forefront of his mind.

"Mother! Where are you?"

He stumbled through the darkness of the rainstorm, calling out for Adore. Clinging to the emerald that hung around his neck, he searched the wreckage. The rain had washed away the dust and cooled the steam to mere wafts curling off the still heated earth. The world around him was no longer recognizable, and the dark clouds and torrents of rain did nothing to help Mirth as he traversed the ruins. All the young man knew was that he was alone, the land had changed because of a Shift, and his mother was out there somewhere.

"Mother?" Mirth swallowed hard and wiped the rain from his eyes. He paused, balanced on a large rock, surveying his surroundings. As far as the eye could see, fissures had opened the earth, stone pillars and cliff sides had crumbled, and new ones took their places.

Just as the young man was about to leap off his perch, something caught his eye. It was a body. The black hair signified it was not his mother, but that only calmed his racing heart a fraction.

"Re-Rekka?" Mirth nearly slipped off the boulder. He stumbled towards the body, mouth agape, staring at the girl beneath the rubble. He swore Rekka had run away as the Shift was ending its course, but maybe she had been unlucky.

However, upon closer inspection, the girl was far younger than Rekka. Mirth shakily stepped away from the body, glad the pounding rain had washed the blood from the open wound on the back of her skull.

"Udia." The deceased girl was Rekka's youngest sister. She had been the one that had nearly set him on fire when he first encountered Rekka and her family. Even though she had toyed with him like a cat with a mouse, she didn't deserve to die so young. What would Rekka think? Did she even find the rest of her family? Was Rekka even alive?

Mirth knelt beside the body. "I'm sorry, Udia. I know we just met each other, but you shouldn't have died. No one should have died today, but the realm is so unstable."

He paused, closing his eyes as the rain poured from the sky. "If I see your family, I'll make sure to tell them about you. I promise."

Mirth spent another moment of silence with Udia's body before he hauled himself to his feet. He couldn't waste any more time. He had to find his mother.

With a shuddering breath, he raked a hand through his sopping wet hair, pushing it over his shoulders before continuing his search. Each time he saw something vaguely shaped like a body, his heart lurched. The image of Rekka's sister flashed in his mind, the girl replaced by his mother or grandparents. When there was a vague color of black in the distance, he looked in the other direction. Mirth couldn't bear seeing Rekka dead. He didn't want to see any more bodies, but that was all he was encountering in the havoc wrecked wasteland.

After traversing the ruins for some time, Mirth found himself standing in front of a wall of rock. A tawny arm stuck out from the rubble, and a shoe lay just steps away from Mirth. He stared long and hard at the mound of stones, rainwater cascading down his face. What if his mother or grandparents had been buried in rock? Would he ever find them?

A cough drew Mirth out of his trance. When it sounded again, he slowly approached the source of the noise. Someone was alive, but there was no telling their state.

"Mother?" The words were barely audible, but a head of snowy white hair lifted from the wet stone.

Half the woman's body was covered in stone, leaving just her upper torso visible. In her hands, she clutched a withered flower, most of the once-white petals having fallen off in the downpour and flowed away with the rainwater. The long white hair plastered to her face and ground did nothing to hide her slightly elongated, pointed ears.

"Arek?" Lavender eyes peered at Mirth through the rain.

When the woman realized that the person standing in front of her was not the one she spoke of, her head fell back to the ground. She pressed the dying flower closer to her chest, her eyes falling closed, waiting for imminent death. The slender, fragile build of her race was her ultimate doom. It was clear that every bone in the lower half of her body had been shattered, but she felt nothing below her waist. It was a blessing for the last few moments of her life.

"Let-let me help." Mirth heaved a rock off the woman's body, only for more to replace it, one almost crushing her hands and the precious flower she held. He stared at the rocks in horror but went to remove another. He wasn’t going to watch someone die.

"Don’t.” The woman’s voice was as soft as flower petals. “My body has been broken beyond repair. I won’t survive even if you get me out of the rubble.” Her voice was choked with tears as her fingers rubbed a brown petal.

“I…” Mirth settled himself beside her, staring at the dead flower in her hands. “Do you want me to sit with you?”

 Even as he said this, he didn’t know if he could handle sitting with the stranger until she breathed her last breath. And his mother was still out there somewhere in the ruined landscape. With the wounds Odysseus dealt to Adore’s body, there was no telling what her condition was. He didn’t want to think about it, but his mother could be in a similar state as the woman before him.

The woman’s lavender gaze did not move from the flower, a strand of white hair falling over her pointed ears. “You have something more important to do. Let me be. I know my fate. And I know my family’s fate. Go. Find your mother.” She rubbed another petal between her fingers and closed her eyes, waiting for the end. “Just tell Arek that I love him. His father will understand, but my poor boy won’t cope well…”

Mirth stared at the woman in awe. He did not question her as he slowly stood up and continued his journey, though guilt gnawed at his stomach.

It felt like hours of shouting into the rain had passed, but Mirth couldn’t give up. He had to find his mother.

“Mother!” This time when Mirth shouted into the torrents, his voice was nearly lost in a rumble of thunder. He knew he had to find her soon or risk losing her to sickness or drowning in the deluge falling from the sky. “Mother! Where are you?”

“Mi-Mirth?”

His heart stopped. A broken figure lay on the ground, curled amongst the rubble. Long brown hair splayed behind it, bruised fingers curled into permanent, painful fists while their entire back was burned to a blistered bloody crisp.

“Mother!” His voice cracked.

Mirth tripped over a slippery stone on his frantic race to his mother’s side, collapsing beside her. Barely noticing the rocks slicing into his palms, he gawked at Adore’s prone form. “Mother? Are you…” but he couldn’t finish the question, eyes already taking in the damage Odysseus and the Shift had done to her body. He hadn’t found her quick enough. The wounds, the burns from Odysseus’s black flames, the cold torrents falling from the sky…

“Mother…” Mirth’s voice cracked again, the young man reaching to take Adore’s wrist, avoiding her broken, black-and-blue hands. 

“Mirth…” Adore managed a weak smile. “My son…you’ve found me…You’re safe.” She brushed a broken, bruised hand across his face. “I want you to know how proud I am of you. I got to watch you grow into a handsome, wonderful young man. You’re stronger than you think. Just believe in yourself.” She smiled, her tears mingling with the rain.

“Mother…” Mirth’s grip tightened around her wrist. “What are you saying? You’re alive. You’ll be with me. You’re not going to die. Here—” He stood up, trying to pull his mother to her feet, but she gave a pain-filled gasp.

Adore shook her head, smiling through the pain. “No, Mirth.” Her arms fell away from his grasp, and her body slumped back to the ground. Mirth just barely caught her head before it could smack the wet stone. A trickle of blood dripped from her nose before the rain washed it away. “There’s nothing you can do for me. I wish it hadn’t happened. Maybe I would have been okay if Odysseus had not attacked, but I had to keep you safe from that monster.”

The woman closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath through the pain as her son cradled her head. “I know your father would have been proud of you if he saw you. I just wish…I wish he had never left us. But he was just so scared of the bleeding and desperately wanted a family. A healthy family.”

Mirth was silent, absorbing his mother’s words.

“If you meet Hubris one day, please, forgive him. He had lost so much by taking me as his wife. We lost so much, but we also had you. Just try to understand your father.”

Lightning flashed across the dark sky, accenting Adore’s broken state and the horrible wounds on her back. Mirth took his mother’s wrist and squeezed it tight, his tears mixing with the rain. “O-okay… But it’s not like you won’t heal from these injuries. It’s just broken hands and a burned back. I can patch you up, then we can find the Ring and see Grandpa and Grandma again. Everything will be fine, Mother.”

“No, Mirth.” More blood trickled from Adore’s nose as she smiled sadly up at her son. “I can’t stay with you. But I’ll see your siblings. The ones that were never born. It’ll be okay, Mirth. We’ll meet again someday. But I hope it’s not for a long, long time.”

“Don’t leave me. Please… Mother. Don’t leave me. Not now.” Mirth choked back a sob as he squeezed Adore’s wrist.

“Mirth…I can’t hold on much longer…” Thunder rumbled, long and low. “I’m just glad you found me before I left. You know the way to Bénipryroda’s Ring, don’t you?”

“I…” Mirth squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes.” He opened his eyes, gazing upon his mother, who still smiled at him. “Follow the sun until you reach the monolith. Then follow the monolith past the volcanoes, and there the Ring will be.” He stroked his mother’s wrist, unable to say any more.

“I love you, Mirth. Your grandparents will take good care of you.”

“Mother…” Mirth whimpered when Adore’s body went limp, and her last breath rattled from her chest. Slowly, he lowered himself to his mother’s side. “I love you too, Mother.”

Sobs racked the young man’s body. He was alone and lost without his mother or grandparents.

He didn’t know what to do.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine

Wisdom from Stone

Mirth stared at the freshly overturned earth, a lone tear slipping down his cheek. He had laid with his mother's body for nearly an hour as the pouring rain continued to drench him to his bones. When he finally came to his senses, the young man found a small outcrop formed by the earthquake and took shelter but did not sleep. As soon as the rain let up, he dug a grave with his magic. When the sun's rays were at their hottest, Mirth had finished burying his mother, leaving a ring of small stones around her gravesite.

Knowing there was nothing else he could do, he trudged on. He ignored the unbearable heat, his only thoughts on his mother. By late midday, Mirth could no longer take the heat and found a small cave. There, he pulled his knees to his chest and stared at the cave floor.

A red tear dripped onto the ground.

"Shit." Mirth wiped the tear away, smearing blood across his face. "Not now. Please, not now." He wiped away another bloody tear. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

Mirth buried his face into his knees, a sob escaping him. "Why is this happening to me? Why'd you have to die, Mother? Why'd stupid Odysseus have to…" He sniffled, lifting his gaze only for his heart to clench painfully.

The gold chain of the necklace he had snagged off the corpse peaked out of his pocket. Carefully, he pulled the ruby out and watched it spin in mid-air, more bloody tears rolling down his face. "I was a fucking idiot." He clenched the ruby as if he could break it. "Why’d I have to steal this?”

Mirth sprang to his feet and threw the necklace, which ricocheted off the stone wall and landed back at his feet. The red gemstone twinkled menacingly at him as if mocking the young man for everything that had happened. Mirth stomped onto the necklace, but when he lifted his foot, there wasn’t even a crack. With an angry cry, he turned to the other side of the cave and punched the nearest wall. Gasping, he fell to his knees, clutching his now injured hand.

Another sob sounded from Mirth. “Why? Why’d she have to get killed? Why did I have to steal the stupid necklace? Why’d Odysseus have to kill her? Why did the Shift happen? Why is my life suddenly so fucked up?”

“Everyone’s life in the Wastes is terrible.”

Mirth’s head snapped, and his bloodshot eyes stared into dark brown ones swarming with flecks of grey. Dark sandstone surrounded the eyes, blending perfectly with the stone and earth around them. The eyes blinked, then the owner moved, revealing it to be a person with skin seemingly made of sandstone.

“I…” Mirth withdrew, wiping more bloody tears from his face, only to find that his nose had started to bleed.

“You think you’re the only one that has a bad life?” The stone-man shifted his position where he was laying against the stone. Grains crumbled from his skin when he brushed his arm against the nearest wall. The layers of stone that met his joints grated and ground against one another and his eyes were filled with a past of hardships and wisdom.

“What-what are you?” Mirth asked through blurry eyes.

“None of your concern. I’m just a loner with nothing to live for.” His grey-flecked eyes stared out into the distance where the last puddles of water waned in the midday heat. The sharp tang of blood filled his nose, but he did not look at the young man, even as more crimson dripped from Mirth’s face. “You’re bleeding everywhere. Poisoned?”

When Mirth said nothing, wiping more blood from his face, the stone-man tore his gaze from the outside. There was sorrow in the young Oṣó’s eyes, but no fear of imminent death. It was as if he suffered from the bout of bleeding before. Spying those russet eyes, the color of dried blood, brought another thought to the surface. “Cursed?”

Silence greeted his ears until Mirth finally let out a feeble, “Yeah.”

A loud exhale sounded from the elderly man. “My name’s Terran.” His gaze shifted to the ruby that lay beside Mirth’s feet. “And I think it is damn stupid of you to have stolen something from the Terror of the Wastes. You’re lucky to have escaped death. I would keep it as a memento. You don’t know what it can do. It may come in handy.”

“Lucky…” Mirth sneered, blood dripping from his nose onto the dusty ground. “I was nearly killed by Odysseus, I’ve experienced the worst Shift in my life, my mother’s dead, I don’t know if my grandparents are even alive, and I’m looking for a place that doesn’t exist. Do you call that lucky!” Mirth loomed, teal magic flaring around his clenched fists. He thrust a finger at the necklace on the ground. “I don’t want to keep the thing that’s responsible for killing my mother.”

“Settle down.” Terran’s gaze shifted to the outside once more, admiring the yellow sky and broken land. “I don’t need you bleeding all over the place.”

Mirth glared at him for a long moment before slowly lowering himself to the ground. Yet again, he wiped the bloody tears rolling down his cheeks and the blood that now leaked from his nose. He stared at the scarlet liquid smeared across his sun-touched skin. “Mother always bled around the same time I did.”

“Do you want to know what’s worse than having your mother killed by the Terror of the Wastes?”

Mirth didn’t respond, still staring at the blood on his arm.

“Coming back to your village and seeing its entirety had been slain by the Terror of the Wastes. Many, many years ago, I had been on a journey to retrieve something for someone in my village. When I came back, there were bodies everywhere. No one had survived. A Fä had killed other Fä. I don’t know why he did it. The only reason I could fathom is that one of the women who could bear children refused Odysseus. Then, he killed everyone for his enjoyment and her torture.”

This had gotten Mirth’s attention. A mixture of confusion, fear, and surprise danced in his bloodshot eyes. “You’re a Fä too?”

Terran hummed, taking a moment to brush more dust from his skin. Then, the sandstone that seemed to make up his flesh transformed into something softer. Terran still blended well with the sandstone, his skin the same color as the rocks around him. His eyes had not changed. They were the same brown flecked with grey. However, without the sharp stony edges of his face, his demeanor wasn’t as rigid anymore. It was as if a mere old man had climbed into the cave with Mirth, and they were sharing the space until the unbearable heat of midday diminished. There was nothing unusual in his appearance and wouldn’t have made Mirth look twice.

“Can all Fä do that? Transform?”

“Yes.” Terran let his head loll against the sandstone he rested against. He dragged a hand across the stone floor, more and more grit following his gnarled fingers. A glob of rolling dirt followed the elderly man’s hand. When he flipped his hand over, the dirt streamed onto his palm. He clenched his hand shut, grains squeezing between his fingers. “Just like Odysseus, I am of mixed blood. My mother was an Earth Asili.” Terran opened his fist to reveal a perfectly shaped heart. “Well-trained Earth Asili can do the exact same thing. But my abilities come easier and are far stronger. No Earth Asili can cause an earthquake, but I can.”

“But Fä can’t be killed.” Mirth pulled his legs to his chest, resting his blood-smeared face on his knees. “I wouldn’t be able to get rid of that monster.”

“Oh, there are ways to kill a Fä, but a scrawny Oṣó like you couldn’t do anything to Odysseus.” Terran laughed, crushing the sandstone heart in his hand, the grit flowing to the ground. “Different bloods run through his super-heated veins. Don’t get yourself killed.”

“But he killed my mother!”

“He’s killed thousands of people!” Terran’s shout startled Mirth, but the elder continued. “Revenge is a petty thing. I’ve seen it too many times in my lifetime. It’s an endless cycle. Odysseus kills your mother, you kill him, his son kills you, your daughter tries to kill his son. It will never end!”

The Fä slammed a fist into the stony ground, cracking it. Grit glittered on his slowly hardening skin. “What do you think would have happened if Odysseus hadn’t killed everyone in my village the day I was gone? He would have eventually killed all of them anyway, and more. They would have plotted revenge and rallied groups to slaughter him, but the Terror of the Wastes would have killed them all. It seems that it’s human nature to not think of the consequences when your emotions are at the forefront.” Terran slumped against the stone wall, half-stone skin turning back to its softer state.

“In a world as violent and as unstable as ours, hate and the urge for revenge can seldom be avoided. One thirsts for power they do not have. Another suffers from it. A vicious cycle.” Terran scooped up the pile of sand once more, cradling it in his hands as it formed into a heart.

 “You see,” He turned to Mirth, unphased by the amount of blood dripping from the young man’s face. “Everyone will die at some point. Some at different times than others. Life has to carry on.” Terran offered the sandstone heart to Mirth. “Don’t disgrace your mother and fall to this hostile land’s clutches. Rise up and survive. You’ve already escaped Odysseus, and you have one of his trinkets. Think about what other people will see in you when you wear it. Maybe there is a deity looking upon you even as another curses you. Just don’t fall into the cycle of revenge. It will only end in tragedy.”

Mirth sighed, taking the sandstone heart, brushing off the grit that had not been crushed together. Eventually, his gaze shifted to the ruby that still lay on the floor. Grasping the gold chain, he edged it closer as if whatever magic enchanted it would bite him. Once it was comfortably resting in his hand, Mirth rubbed away the scuff he had put on it with his boot. Still, the dark red gemstone glittered back at him like a snake ready to strike. This was an object of the monster who had killed his mother. Nothing good would come from it. Nonetheless, he tucked it back into his pocket.

“You’re welcome to stay here for a while longer. I’ll be making my way to another cave soon enough, but I can stay until you stop bleeding.” Terran leaned back and closed his eyes, his stony form rising to the surface, allowing him to blend in near perfectly with the sandstone.

Mirth said nothing. Toying with the emerald necklace. He was unable to get the thoughts of his mother out of his head. No one would help him find the mythical paradise of Bénipryroda’s Ring. And if his mother was dead, what was the fate of his grandparents? The questions and thoughts continued to accumulate, curling in on one another, forming sickening clumps inside his mind.

It was some time when his nose stopped dripping blood, and his tears were no longer tinged red. During the silence, Terran offered Mirth a cloth dampened by a remaining puddle outside. Mirth took the cloth without much thought, wiping the blood from his face and arms. When the blood was gone, Mirth held the fabric in his hands. “I don’t have my backpack with me. How am I going to survive the journey to The Ring?”

“What Art are you trained in?”

“Creation.” Mirth demonstrated, shaping a small teal blade of magic.

“You have the tools to survive, you can make any tool you want. Just make smart decisions, and you’ll make it to the Ring. You’re already halfway there. Take some time to mourn, but then make sure you get moving sooner than later. I’ll be here until you leave.”

Mirth stayed silent, staring at the blood on the still damp cloth. At this moment, he wouldn’t be able to walk in the heat just to continue his journey to a place he didn’t believe in. A place his mother believed in and a place that had killed her. If they had just traveled with the rest of the village…  Mirth squeezed his eyes shut, images running through his head over and over. It would be some time before he could get back onto his feet and push through the journey.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten

To Contemplate in the Wastes

Mirth stumbled through the barren wasteland, mind and soul numb. The sun hung low in the sky, surrounded by an intense, nauseating yellow halo. The land had yet to cool from the insufferable midday heat, but Mirth could barely register the stifling air. Even as dark strands of hair stuck to his sweat-slick face, he did not bother to pull them away. All he could do was trudge through the wasteland. It was all the elderly Fä had asked him to do. To keep following the setting sun west to the fabled Bénipryroda's Ring.

After leaving Terran some hours ago, Mirth traversed the damaged land, absentmindedly rubbing his blood-encrusted clothing. Mind drifting here and there, he wondered if the blood was his or his mother's. The bleeding episode in Terran's company had left dark stains on his clothing, but which splotches of blood had been obtained when he cradled his dying mother in his arms?

Why did his mother have to die? Why did Odysseus have to chase him? Why had Mirth left his mother and grandparents before dawn break? Why were all the terrible things happening so quickly? It all just hurt so much. He lost his mother, was torn away from his grandparents and was now alone in the hostile land.

At times, Mirth forced his mind empty of thoughts, but the questioning, sorrow, grief, and fear crept back into the silence. With only himself as company and nothing to quell the pain churning inside him, the young man resorted to talking to himself to keep a loose grip on reality.

"Why is the world so cruel?" the question bubbled as Mirth kicked a stone across his path. "I never asked for any of this. I don't deserve any of this. Only that bloody bastard Odysseus deserves this fate." This time, Mirth kicked the stone harder. It ricocheted off the nearest sandstone pillar, and chunks of stone fell from the column.

Mirth stopped and glared at the pillar. "This is all your fucking fault too! Why in the name of Sasba did a fucking Shift have to happen when Mother was fighting Odysseus! We could have run away from that monster if the earth hadn't become a demon itself." Breathing hard, he glared down the freshly formed pillar as if it would crumble away and reveal his mother alive and well. When nothing of the sort happened, Mirth wiped away a stray tear and pushed forward.

The bitter thoughts kept churning in the young man's head. Each step was more demanding than the last. How would he survive in the wasteland? Could he do it without his family? Without his backpack full of the things he needed to survive? What was the point of pushing forward to a paradise that he didn't believe in if he was only going to suffer in the end? What was the point of prolonging his suffering? Maybe he should drop dead in the middle of nowhere and join his mother now.

Releasing a shuddering sigh, Mirth ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "I don't want to do this anymore. Mother…" He raised his gaze to the horizon, unshed tears shining in the dying sunlight. "I miss you."

The emerald necklace that hung around his neck shined back at him. He grasped it tight, the tears welling in his eyes. His mother had given it to him just the night before. It was as if she knew she was going to die at dawn. And it had been his wretched father's necklace. Would his family have ever been in this situation if his father had stayed?

"Why’d we have to move, Mother?” Mirth choked on another sob, squeezing the necklace tighter. “Why’d that stupid Shift have to happen in the first place? We could still be with the rest of our family. We could still be living in our Oṣó village. We wouldn’t have suffered from this Shift, and you’d still be alive. I could be exploring the wilds right now with Leap or bothering Swift about his collection of weird-shaped rocks.”

The emerald glinted in the sun.

“I know, Mother. I know. Keep following the setting sun west and look for the rock that looks like a massive arrowhead dropped from the sky, then pass the volcanic mountain range. There, I’ll find Bénipryroda’s Ring. But I’m all alone, Mother. I don’t know if I can do this without you. I’ve never been alone like this before. I don’t even have my bag with me. I just have Dad’s necklace and the necklace I stole from Odysseus.”

Mirth sighed and released the emerald.

He walked down a sandy slope, nearly tripping over his own feet as it gave way under him. “Even the ground hates my existence. What have I done?” He kicked the sand, spraying it across the ground.

“What have I done to deserve this!” He screamed to the heavens, legs nearly giving out as he glared at the yellow sky, tears gathering in his eyes. “I don’t want to be alone! I didn’t want my mother to die! And I don’t even know if this Bénipryroda’s Ring paradise even exists! Am I just going to die out here? Alone?” His voice broke, and his legs gave out.

Mirth buried his hands into the sand, unable to keep the tears from falling. He cursed Odysseus. He cursed the Shifts. He cursed his mother’s death. And he cursed Bénipryroda’s Ring. Mirth pounded his fist into the earth, letting out another anguished cry. Before he knew it, the ruby he had stolen from Odysseus’s deceased lover was grasped in his hand.

Cheeks streaked with tears; Mirth watched the ruby swing on its gold chain. It glinted at him in the dying sunlight, just like the emerald had, but there was no comfort in this gemstone: only hate, fear, and the boiling anger deep in his soul.

Mirth snatched the gem from its suspension and squeezed. The sharp edges bit into his sun-tanned skin, but he kept squeezing. Even as blood dripped into the sand, his muscles clenched harder. He didn’t care how much it hurt.

That was until a searing pain erupted from the stone.

Mirth dropped the necklace, whimpering as he cradled his injured hand and glared at the ruby with watery eyes. When the throbbing in his hand subsided, he picked up the necklace, bloodied ruby spinning in mid-air. Not caring that more damage could be done, Mirth slipped it over his head. He hissed in pain as the searing heat flared from the ruby once more, nearly burning his skin. Before he could move it, the heat died down to a gentle warmth. Swallowing hard, Mirth thumbed the ruby, which rested just above the emerald. Thumb smeared with the blood he had wiped from the gemstone, Mirth gathered himself. The pain would give him comfort from his thoughts.

Mirth’s thoughts fell into silence as he pushed towards the setting sun. Since he had no bandages, his injured hand stayed tucked against his shirt. The wound throbbed with his heartbeat, and he relished each wave of pain. It kept his mind off topics he preferred not to think about. The pain kept away the daytime nightmares and left his mind quiet as he stumbled through the barren land. That’s all he hoped for now: peace and quiet.

It wasn’t until darkness had descended upon the land that Mirth’s mind brewed with unwanted thoughts. Though they weren’t as bad as they could have been, they still made him miss the family and friends he left behind. The image of a smiling girl flashed in his mind’s eye. Dusty brown hair that was always tied back in a bun that he wished she would have let down more often, sparkling dark blue eyes and a smile that could light up the darkest room.

“Will I ever see you again, Leap?” He paused, a massive tree blocking his path. “I was hoping Swift’s older brother wouldn’t steal you from me, but….” Mirth followed the length of the tree with his gaze, from the roots, up the rough-barked trunk, to the straggly branches reaching for the yellowing sky, dying as they begged for rain. They would have surely been full of luscious leaves some moons ago.

Mirth’s legs gave out beneath him. “Where are you, Leap? Where’s Swift and his brother? Has he taken your heart while you travel land not ravaged by Shifts?”

Mirth curled up beside the mangled roots that kept the ancient corpse anchored to the parched earth. He bit back a dry sob and buried his face into his knees. “I wonder what you would think of me, seeing me like this. I’m pathetic, aren’t I? Crying in a wasteland, my mother dead, grandparents missing, only the earth to sleep on. I should be with you, Leap. We should be walking side-by-side laughing at the village gossip or some goofy trick Swift came up with. But I’m out here, in the Wastes, and my mother is dead.”

Mirth wiped away the tears, half expecting them to be tinged with blood. “I guess I won’t get the chance to ask you on a walk through the market and buy you a bouquet of flowers and that necklace you always wanted. We won’t be able to watch the stars again and listen to Swift’s snoring as we whispered to each other. I won’t ever be able to hold your hand or…” His shoulders slumped.

Mirth shook his head, trying to silence the thoughts. Looking up, he hoped to see the stars, but only dark clouds covered the sky. “Of course, when night falls, the clouds come.”

Mirth curled among the roots. He had hoped the stars would be out, just for tonight, and watch them like he and Leap had done every other night. It would be like she was with him again. Sitting beside him, her dusty brown hair nearly falling out of its bun from a long day around the village. Her eyes sparkling as she recounted the obnoxious customer who she had dismissed since she couldn’t answer his nonsense questions. The subtle glances she gave Mirth every now and then that he only convinced himself that he was reading too much into, her fingers breaths from his own.

“I miss everyone so much.” Mirth stared at his bloodied hand, mentally tracing the gouges the ruby had bit into his flesh. “I want to go home. I don’t want to look for the stupid Ring. I want my mother back. I want my grandparents with me. I want my friends back. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

A gust of wind was the only reply.

Mirth lowered his hand and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I should have taken my chance with you, Leap. Will we ever see each other again? How will you and Swift react if you found out my mother is dead? Will you ever find the Ring? Will I ever find the Ring? If I survive this, I hope that, someday, I’ll see you again. That I’ll see everyone from the village. You, Swift… I just hope that…maybe… your heart won’t be taken. I would love to watch the stars with you again, Leap. And hold your hand at least once. And maybe…” He squeezed his eyes shut, silencing the thought. It was a futile wish.

Mirth rolled to his side and closed his eyes. Tonight, he hoped the nightmares wouldn’t be so bad.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven

An Offering from the Wind

Sunlight pierced through Mirth's eyelids. He awoke, an arm slung over his face and his body sticky with sweat from the already growing heat. It took a moment for him to recollect his thoughts as the tendrils of sleep unlatched from his psyche. The memories of yesterday's events flooded back, crashing and sweeping the last remnants of drowsiness away.

"Mother’s dead.” Mirth removed his arm, staring up at the yellow-hued sky. The few hours of restless sleep he achieved last night through the tossing and turning had been wrought with nightmares. Even though he wished to lay amongst the roots of the trees until the pain passed, his mother’s voice whispered in the back of his mind, urging him onward.

Mirth crawled onto his hands, gasping in pain when his right palm met the warming, hard earth. Arm giving way, his shoulder jammed into the ground, and he lay in crumpled heap. The wound carved by Odysseus’s ruby had turned an ugly inflamed red, the flesh inside the cut glistening. He curled his fingers into his palm, sucking in a sharp breath. Mirth would have to settle with pressing the injured hand close to his body to avoid the pain.

Dragging himself to his feet, the young man surveyed his surroundings. Like the past moon, there was parched earth, a few trees here and there, and massive stone pillars. With nothing keeping him to the tree, he pressed his injured hand closer to himself and pushed onward. He barely registered the pang of hunger in his stomach or the dryness of his thick tongue.

It was mid-midday by the time Mirth found shade under a massive pillar of rock. During his journey, his mind had been numb from any thoughts, and the throb in his hand was the only thing that kept him company. When seated in the shade, Mirth finally noticed how dry his mouth was. If he didn’t find water soon, he would surely die of dehydration.

As he ran a hand through his long, dark brown hair, movement caught his eyes. Darting between the stone pillars was a boy with something clutched in his hands. Just as he was free from the maze of columns, he tripped, the scarlet fruit tumbling from his grasp. Shouting, the shaggy blond-haired boy scrambled to his feet to grab the fruit, but it was swept away just inches from his fingers.

He pouted as the fruit floated through the air and landed on the outstretched hand of another blond-haired child. She had just stepped out from around one of the stone pillars. Sharing the same blonde hair and sharp grey gaze, it was evident that she was his younger sister by only a year or so. She gave him a teasing wink before whisking the fruit away, proudly walking off with her prize. Then, another blonde-haired child appeared from behind a stone pillar and tackled her to the ground. The oldest of the three scooped up the stolen fruit, sauntering away much like his sister had done. 

“Bavol!” the sister shrieked. “Give it back!”

“This doesn’t look like yours, Mayrah,” the eldest brother taunted, licking his lips.

“Cause it’s mine!” The youngest of the three lunged for the fruit, but his older brother caught him by the arm and pushed him to the ground.

“I don’t think so, Cetewind. I don’t see your name on it.”

“But I found it first. I picked it off the tree, so it’s mine. Come on, Bavol, I’m hungry.” Cetewind twisted out of his brother’s grasp and leaped, trying to snag the fruit from Bavol’s hand, but he was a good foot shorter than the older boy.

“We’re all hungry, Cetey. And since I’m the oldest and need more food, I should be the one to eat it.”

Before Bavol could put the fruit near his lips, a gust of wind lifted it out of his hand. The fruit danced on the wind current and into Mayrah’s hands. She held it close, glaring at her older brother, and stuck her tongue out at him. “Too bad you’re terrible at wielding wind.” The middle-child and only sister of the siblings then sprinted away, fruit in hand.

Cetewind ran after her, a gust of wind pushing him forward. He lunged, catching Mavrah by the waist and plowing her to the ground. A strangled cry escaped her as the battered, and bruised fruit rolled from her hand. When Bavol loomed over it, she flicked her fingers, a wind current lifting the fruit into the air and out of reach of her older brother.

Bavol growled and widened his stance, focusing on the fruit floating high in the air. Cetewind continued to claw up his sister’s body, keeping her pressed to the ground as if it helped oppress her wind manipulation. It seemed to be working. The small scarlet orb slowly floated closer to arms’ reach, Mayrah losing control over her wind currents.

When Bavol reached for the fruit, Cetewind leaped, intercepting his older brother’s grab and running away from his siblings. Yet again, Bovol and Mayrah launched themselves on top of their youngest sibling, pinning him to the ground. The fruit rolled out of reach, and the siblings continued to struggle against one another’s holds, desperate to keep the other two down as they reached for the fruit.

Suddenly, a tawny hand burst from the ground, spraying dirt from the rupture, and grasped the fruit. The siblings could only watch in disbelief as a tween girl emerged from the ground. She shook the dust from her dark hair and stared them down as she chomped into the fruit. All of them slumped in defeat before untangling themselves from each other.

Bavol glared at the fruit-eating girl. She flicked her fingers at him, sending a small pebble flying into his temple. He yelped, rubbing the mark on his forehead, watching as the girl walked away.

A call sounded from behind, and the three siblings turn around. To their surprise, their mother was strutting down the hill, a basket full of fruit held to her hip. Her grey eyes, the same color she shared with the three children, scanned their rugged, dirty appearance. “What were you three doing?”

Bavol shuffled his feet. “I found a fruit. We were all fighting over it.”

“You mean I found a fruit!” Ceterwind cut in, clenching his small fist.

“And then some Earth Asili girl ate it,” Mavrah added, though she was already eyeing the basket of fruit her mother held.

“Well, I guess you three are in luck. Your dad and I managed to pick an entire basket full.” She held one of the round red fruits to them. They stared at it hungrily until she gave each of her children one. The family continued on their way, but not before the youngest paused.

The dirty, bloodied form of Mirth resting in the shadows of a stone pillar had caught Cetewind’s eye. The young boy looked down at his fruit and then up to Mirth. The broken, disheartened face of the young man twisted the boy’s insides. With one more glance down at the fruit, Cetewind walked up to Mirth.

Silently, he placed the fruit in front of Mirth and waited patiently for the older boy to take the offering. When Mirth made no move to take it, the boy pushed it a little closer, almost daring to put it into Mirth’s lap. Still, Mirth did not take it. He turned away as if trying to ignore the boy.

Cetewind glanced back at his family, faintly hearing his older brother calling out to him. Without touching Mirth, the boy summoned a small gust of wind and placed the fruit into his lap. He gave Mirth a worried smile before running after his family.

The young man stared at the bright red fruit that now sat in his lap. A loud sigh escaped him, and he turned his gaze to the cloudless sky as if asking why fate was so terrible to him. As if hearing his mother begging him to eat, he squeezed his eyes shut, his gaze falling back to the fruit in his lap.

Mirth picked up the fleshy scarlet orb. It was slightly larger than his hand and possessed a few, thin dark spiky leaves where it had been pulled off the tree. The skin was smooth but flecked with darker spots of red throughout the shiny surface. He had no appetite, but he had to eat.

So, with a quaking sigh, he rubbed away any dirt and dug his teeth into the soft flesh.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve

Petrified Blaze

The fruit hadn't been much, but it was the push Mirth needed to keep moving. After the family of Wind Asili had left and the fruit devoured, Mirth continued his perilous journey. As it had been during the morning, his numb thoughts drifted here and there but were not all-consuming. At some point, he traveled alongside a massive split in the earth. As Mirth peered into the darkness, he couldn't tell if it was the ravine Odysseus had fallen into or not. At the thought, he squeezed his injured hand, bringing the dull throb to a sharp stab. His physical and mental wounds were far too fresh to think about that monster.

He kicked a few stones into the ravine. They fell into the abyss, clanging against the stone walls. Thoughts still on the Fä, Mirth remained at the edge almost as if he was considering falling into the darkness himself. If he could survive the fall, would he find the Fä's body where it belonged in the bowels of the earth? Or would Odysseus have recovered and was currently stalking the land for Mirth's sorry soul?

The young man glanced at a large rock that sat precariously balanced paces away. With a jolt of magic to his legs, he pushed it into the gaping fissure. The crash of stone against stone jarred memories of the earthquake rather than releasing the tension within his thoughts.

Movement in the distance caught his eyes.

Mirth squinted, recognizing the figure to be human. The person seemed to be wandering the edge of the ravine, head turned opposite of the gaping chasm as they searched for something. The closer the person got, the more Mirth could make out their appearance: the powerful yet feminine form, the black hair, the soot-singed clothing.

"Rekka," he breathed, his heart skipping a beat. It was another person. He wasn't alone anymore. "Rekka!"

At the sound of her name, the young woman's head snapped in his direction. She did not move as Mirth raced toward her. When he was just feet from the Fire Asili, she stepped back and raised her hands, fire igniting her sun-touched forearms.

"Stay back," she snarled.

"Wh-what? Rekka, it's me, Mirth. We met each other a few days ago. We survived the Shift together. We—"

"I know who you are, Oṣó."

"But..." Mirth stepped closer, but she stepped back, her fire growing brighter.

"I said stay back! Unless you want to get burned." Her green eyes were stone cold. Yet, when her eyes shifted to the emerald and ruby that hung around the young man's neck, a spark of fear ignited in her eyes.

"Rekka."

"No! You're the reason why I'm alone!" She pointed a flaming hand at him. "I’m not with my family because you decided to take that necklace off one of Odysseus’s wives. Now, I’m alone and don’t know where my family is. It’s all because of you that I wasn’t with them when the Shift happened. And you’re still wearing that thing!”

Her hand trembled, even under the flames flickering on her skin. “If he’s still alive, he’s going to find you and kill you. He’s going to want that back and make you live the most painful death for taking it from him.”

“He hasn’t found me yet. Maybe he’s given up, and maybe he won’t wake up. That was a pretty nasty fall.” Mirth butted in, desperate to have a traveling companion. To show Rekka the ruby would do no harm, he grabbed it from around his neck. A hiss of pain slipped past his teeth when it burned the skin of his injured hand.

“It’s cursed,” Rekka spat, and she turned away.

“Rekka! Wait! You should come with me to Bénipryroda’s Ring. We wouldn’t be alone anymore. And maybe your family is going there too.”

She glared at him from over her shoulder. “There’s no damn way I’m traveling with you, Oṣó. I travel with my own kind. There’s a reason why Dad always taught me to stay away from anything but Fire and Soot Asili.”

“Rekka, please.” Desperation cracked Mirth’s voice as he reached for her. “I don’t want to…”

The fire that had been dying on her arms roared to life. Rekka spun around, the orange flames nearly leaping off her skin as she faced Mirth. “Don’t you dare come near me, or I’ll burn you alive!” Her verbal threat burned through Mirth, and he cringed back from the heat.

“Fire Asili only travel with Fire Asili.” Rekka turned away, walking the same path she had come from.

Mirth was about to let Rekka leave, even as the fear of traveling alone engulfed his entire being. But then the image of the black-haired girl with glossed over green eyes flashed in his mind. His head snapped up, and he ran after Rekka’s retreating form.

“Rekka! I have to—”

Mirth choked on his words as an inferno of red-orange flames engulfed him. He gasped, bare skin nearly blistering from the heat. But the moment it appeared, it was gone, leaving a ring of soot around Mirth where he had crumbled to his knees.

“I warned you,” Rekka snarled. “Next time, I will set your flesh on fire.”

All Mirth could do was watch Rekka walk away, the words he wanted to tell her dying on his tongue. Even as her form disappeared over the horizon, he reached for her. “Your…your sister.”  Mirth’s hand fell, and he bit back the tears of frustration gathering in the back of his eyes. He had the chance, but he blew it. “I had promised her…”

In painfully slow motion, Mirth pushed himself to his feet, grimacing at the pain lacing his bare arms and face. Still, just like his injured hand, he was almost thankful for it. His mother's death and the loneliness he would continue to suffer were pushed to the depths of his mind when the pain took the forefront.

For now, he would just keep walking.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen

Company with Water

The sun dipped below the horizon, but Mirth pushed onwards. The second-degree burns Rekka had given him a few hours earlier were excruciating in the searing wasteland’s heat. Still, he had to keep traveling. It was the only thing he had for himself. Each step he took seemed to take more effort than the last. Breathing labored and every inch of his body aching, he didn’t know how much longer he could last. But he had to keep going. If he didn’t, what would his mother think? What would she think if he gave up so soon? If he didn’t survive and make it to the mythical paradise of Bénipryroda’s Ring, he would be a failure. He wouldn’t see his grandparents, if they were still alive, he wouldn’t see Leap, and his mother would be disappointed in him.

Just as Mirth was about to give up and collapse where he stood, life finally gave him a blessing.

A small oasis was visible in the distance, surrounded by fruiting trees and bushes. Water gurgled from a small waterfall no taller than Mirth. With his last ounce of energy, Mirth pushed himself towards the water, each step a struggle until he collapsed by its edge. Mud encapsulated his hands, but Mirth took no notice. It soothed the wound and burns on his palm. Staring into the cool, clear liquid, Mirth’s heat-addled mind tried to comprehend that the oasis existed in the middle of the Wastes.

“Magic…” he coughed. “It has to be magic.”

The Oṣó brushed a hand across his forehead, wiping away sweat and grit. Dipping his trembling hands into the water, Mirth rubbed away the dirt and blood, hissing in pain when he scratched the wound on his hand. He then cupped the water and carefully brought a mouthful of the refreshing liquid to his lips. He was glad it tasted good but hoped it didn’t contain disease. After all, he didn’t have his water purification potion on him.

After drinking his fill and splashing his face with water, Mirth sat back and stared intently at the cool liquid. Bathing was in order. His own body odor had long since made itself known, but it was the dried blood staining his clothes and the grit of the Wastes irritating every crevice that made the idea pleasurable. A bath would be good for both his body and mind.

A silvery fish flashed across his vision. He would even have a decent meal tonight. In the past day, Mirth’s mood finally lifted a fraction.

On trembling energy drained limbs, Mirth sluggishly stripped out of his sweat-soaked, blood-stained, dirt-caked clothing. He stood under the waterfall. Eyes closed and head lifted toward the falling water, he relished the cool liquid gliding over his sunbaked skin and washing away the filth of a moon’s journey. Scooping a handful of soft sand from the bottom of the pond, he rubbed it against his body to ensure a cleaner wash. He combed his fingers through his long dark brown hair, trying his best to undo the knots and wash out the sweat and dirt.

Even when his hair and body were clean of filth, Mirth stayed under the water, staring at the dark sandstone eroded near smooth from the flowing water. It reminded him of Terran. It was as if the elderly Fä was watching over him. Mirth grabbed the two gemstone necklaces. His mother’s death was still too fresh in his mind. The injury on his hand still throbbed from where the ruby had sliced open his skin. The wound had healed, but the skin remained tender and dark red in color.

With a sigh, Mirth ran a hand through his sopping hair and stepped out from under the waterfall, ringing out his hair. He took his filthy clothes and cleaned them as best as he could without soap. He rubbed them against the rough rocks lining the side of the pond, grimacing at the dirt and blood floating in the water around him.

When his clothes were washed and placed out to dry on the sunbaked rocks, Mirth sat at the edge of the pond, still undressed. Wet clothing was uncomfortable to wear. Besides, it wasn’t like there was anyone in the vicinity that would see him.

Staring into the water, his thoughts drifted here and there. He needed to eat, but…

“Hello there.”

Mirth jerked from his thoughts and looked up. A young woman around his age was paddling in the water. She grinned at him, draping her sienna forearms on a smooth rock jutting up from the pond. Her dark blue eyes held nothing but warmth and happiness. “I saw you bathing earlier,” a giggle escaped her as she tucked a stubborn piece of short dark brown hair behind her ear. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

The young man’s face turned bright red as he covered himself with his hands. Mirth glanced over his shoulder at his drying clothes. Wearing wet undershorts would make everything just as uncomfortable as the young woman staring at him. Oddly enough, she didn’t seem the least bit bothered by his lack of clothing.

“Don’t bother.” She giggled again, swimming up to Mirth and hauling herself halfway out of the water. “I’ve seen my little brothers naked more times than I can count. “What’s your name? I’m Aaralyn.”

“M-Mirth.” He still had not removed his hands, nor had the heat lessened from his face. It didn’t help that she had come closer and was staring right at him.

“Mirth? That’s an odd name.” She shook out her short, dark hair, splattering him with droplets of water.

The young man awkwardly shifted himself so that he wasn’t in full view of Aaralyn. Her casualness about the situation was slowly reducing his embarrassment, but he was still very uncomfortable. “I’m…” Mirth hesitated, remembering what his family always told him about other races not getting along. Maybe she didn’t know he wasn’t like her. He didn’t even know what race she belonged to. Still, the young woman’s eyes were so bright with life, and he was desperate to have a companion. “I’m an Oṣó. It’s a tradition of my family to give children names like mine.”

“Oh! An Oṣó!” Aaralyn climbed out of the water and sat beside Mirth. With a flick of her hand, water droplets rose from her loose-fitted undergarments and into the air, gathering in her hand. “I’m a Water Asili.” She giggled again, bouncing the glob of water in mid-air. 

She leaned closer, eyes narrowing as she inspected him. “You said you’re an Oṣó, but your eyes don’t glow.”

“It’s a…quirk of mine.” Mirth fidgeted under her gaze. Hoping to draw her attention away from his eyes, he held out his hand, a sphere of teal magic shaping in his palm. It swirled like the water jiggling in Aaralyn’s palm, but the movement was thinner, like spider silk in the wind.

Aaralyn gawked at the teal sphere. Carefully, she poked the magic. It wrapped around her finger, and she giggled, pulling her hand back. “It’s warm.”

“Most magic is.” Mirth dug his fingers into the sphere, and it vanished.

“Are you hungry? You look hungry.”

Yet again, Mirth struggled for words. The young woman seated beside him was nothing he had expected to find in the Wastes. A brutish warrior woman who chased him away from the oasis and tried to impale him with a flaming sword? Yes. But not someone so carefree and bubbly. He finally managed a strangled “yes.”

“Are you okay with fish?” Before he could answer, a pair of silver-scaled fish floated out of the pond in a jiggling glob of water. Aaralyn twisted her wrists, and the water pulled away, the fish falling into her lap.

“Meat is good,” was all Mirth managed, staring at the fish.

The Water Asili giggled and drew water into her palm, shaping it into a knife. Along the blade, the water solidified but did not freeze. With a few flicks of her wrists, the fish were descaled and filleted. The water knife was tossed into the pond, the shape released as Aaralyn climbed to her feet. She started a small fire from previously gathered material, and the fish fillets were roasting on a large, heated stone within minutes.

“Can all Water Asili do that?”

Aaralyn hummed in question as she gathered a few large fruits and berries from the trees and bushes growing around the small oasis. “It matters how well they’re trained.” She popped up on her tiptoes to tug a pale fruit from a tree. “I just have a very skilled mother. She taught me everything I know about water manipulating.”

“Can other Asili shape stuff like you can?” An image of Rekka and her sisters flashed across his mind. Mirth’s stomach growled. The smell of roasting fish made the hunger pangs that he had been ignoring for the past day known.

“Earth and Ice Asili can shape things the easiest.” The dark-haired woman was now plucking plump dark berries from a bush, popping one in her mouth every so often. “Water Asili have it second-easiest. It can be hard to make water solid, but at least water isn’t intangible. All the others have a much, much harder time shaping their element. It’s tough to make weapons out of wind or light.”

Aaralyn waddled over with an armful of fruit, dumping it in front of the fire. She then stooped over a simple bag near the waterfall, pulling out a flowing dress, her feet already stuck in a pair of pale sandals. Once dressed, the Water Asili took a seat in front of Mirth, now clad in a pale blue dress that flowed past her knees. She ran a hand through her short, dark hair, eyes catching the sorrow in the young man’s gaze. She was about to say something, only for the sadness to be replaced by embarrassment, accompanied by reddening cheeks. He was still stark naked.

Another giggle drifted from Aaralyn. “Here, let me help you.” Climbing to her feet once more, she picked up Mirth’s undershorts and drew the water out of them, leaving them completely dry. A teasing twinkle danced in her dark blue eyes as she held them out to him, no words needed.

Mirth’s face grew even warmer as he took the undergarment with an awkward mutter of thanks. He turned around and slipped them on before sitting in front of the fire once more, Aaralyn seated on the other side.

“There, now you won’t have to sit funny anymore. Though, it’s not like I haven’t seen a man before.” She giggled again, enjoying Mirth’s bashful glance away. “Now, let’s eat. The fish is done.”

She portioned the fruit between Mirth and herself and shoved a smaller stone with a fish fillet on it toward the young man.

“What brings you here, all alone?” Aaralyn asked, picking a bone out of her fish. “I haven’t seen many people out here, and not many alone.” She rolled a dark berry between her fingers as if debating to eat it or a bite of her fish.

“I wasn’t alone at first…” Mirth rolled a few of the berries around in his hand. “I was traveling with my grandparents and my mother, but then… the Shift happened, and I was separated from them.” He reached his free hand for the emerald that hung around his neck. “My…my mother was killed by Odysseus.”

Aaralyn dropped the berry she was about to pop in her mouth. “Oh, I’m so, so sorry.” She abandoned her food and reached across the small fire to squeeze Mirth’s wrist. “I don’t know what I would do if any of my family died. And you’re traveling all by yourself. Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Some mythical place called Bénipryroda’s Ring. I don’t—”

“My family was going there too!” Aaralyn was on her feet, fists clenched in excitement, and the water beside them rippled.  “We can travel together. My mom and dad, and siblings were traveling from our other home because of some village riot. We wanted a better place to stay. Some of my siblings convinced Mom and Dad to look for Béni’s Ring. I got separated from them during that terrible Shift yesterday, but now I have another person to travel with.” She danced in place, nearly squealing with excitement. “I won’t be alone anymore!”

A loud sigh escaped Mirth, but he couldn’t help but smile up at the young woman. Even through the bitterness and grief since his lonely journey started, it seemed he had found a light in the darkness.

“Okay. We can travel together. But maybe we should stay here for a few days to drink and eat as much as we can. We need to rest and relax for a little while before we keep looking for this mythical paradise.” Even as he said this, Mirth didn’t know if he would ever find Bénipryroda’s Ring, but at least now he had a companion, and he knew that one way or another, they would find somewhere better than the Wastes.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen

He Who Climbs Trees

As planned, Mirth and Aaralyn stayed in the oasis for the next few days, regaining their strength and getting to know each other. Without the worry of food and water, it allowed Mirth to heal some from the emotional wounds of his mother’s death. It helped tremendously having a traveling companion he could express the pain to.

Though, Mirth hadn’t meant to speak of the inner turmoil to the Water Asili at first. The first time he woke from a nightmare, she was beside him, asking what was wrong. He spilled nearly everything. Shame followed as he blubbered like an idiot in front of a cute stranger. But she had simply sung him to sleep with the same lullaby she sung every night. After the incident, though, Mirth found it easier to express his emotions to Aaralyn. He could have never imagined how much she eased the pain. Aaralyn knew nothing but sympathy and kindness for his suffering. In some ways, Mirth couldn’t help but think of Leap when he looked at the Water Asili. Her nightly lullabies always helped soothe his soul before he fell asleep.

When they left the oasis, the odd duo continued their journey through a massive forest of strange trees. They both decided it would be best to stay by plants, knowing water had to be nearby to keep them thriving. It was also more likely to find edibles in the forest than in a desolate wasteland. Still, for some reason, the forest put Aaralyn on edge. The trees were an odd array of colors, and the air was heavy and humid, unlike the dry, scratchy air of the rest of the wasteland. Those traits shouldn’t have put the Water Asili on edge, but she couldn’t get out of the forest fast enough. 

Currently, Aaralyn walked close to Mirth, dark blue eyes darting this way and that. Her bubbly personality had evaporated the moment they stepped into the eerie forest. When she suggested that they go back to the oasis, Mirth refused. They had to keep moving, and he figured the forest was their best option. She flinched when a strange creature glided from treetop to treetop. It landed just overhead, giving a shrill cry.

“I don’t like this place,” Aaralyn mumbled, swallowing hard as she stared at a tree, the gaping hole in the middle of its trunk vaguely shaped like a screaming face. “Why are the trees’ bark white? Why are their leaves purple? Why does it look like that one has a face? Mirth.” She whimpered, another shrill cry from the creature filling the humid air. “I don’t like this place.”

“I don’t either, but we’ll get out of here as soon as possible. First, we need to eat something.” He let his gaze wander the too colorful trees. “But why are you so worried about these trees?” He approached one of them, eyeing the bright purple leaves that shimmered in the sunlight. “I don’t think there’s anything to be afraid of. It just feels…strange. It’s not like we are in any danger.”

“I don’t know, Mirth…” Aaralyn had dropped her pack, pulling out the dried fish and berries they had picked from the oasis. Yet again, her dark blue eyes were unable to focus on anything but the company of shimmering blues and purples. “I really don’t like this forest.”

Mirth glanced over his shoulder at the food now splayed in front of Aaralyn. He then looked back up at the tree he stood in front of, a large fleshy disk-shaped fruit hanging just out of reach. “The more food, the better,” he mumbled, a long blade of teal magic already forming in his right hand. “I wonder if it tastes good.”

“Mirth, I wouldn’t…” Aaralyn trailed off, reaching for Mirth from where she had sat down, but the Oṣó didn’t hear her.

Swinging his sickle, Mirth sliced the fruit from its attachment. It landed at his feet with a heavy thud, bright yellow-green skin almost too intense to look at. He tapped the fruit with the toe of his boot before looking at the draping purple leaves just inches from his face. He picked up the dense, disk-shaped fruit, weighing it in his hand.

“It could be poisonous.” Aaralyn watched him, anxiety nearly rolling off her in waves. “I wouldn’t eat it, Mirth. We have food right here, and it's enough for both of us for a few days if we ration it.”

“But if there’s more food we can pick, why don’t we take advantage of it?” He sniffed the rough, yellow-green skin. “It doesn’t smell bad.” Tucking the fruit under his arm, he leaped up to the next closest fruit, popping it off the low hanging branch. “Here, I got one for you too, Aaralyn.”

“I don’t feel good about that tree.”

“What has gotten into you?” The young man glanced over his shoulder, brows furrowed in confusion. “There’s nothing wrong with this tree.” He tugged on the branch, making it shutter excessively. “See?”

Something fell from its branches.

Mirth leaped nearly a foot in the air, a misshapen spear of magic in hand, bearing down on the creature that had fallen from the tree. Chest heaving and heart pounding, Mirth found himself staring down another young adult just like he and Aaralyn, this one another male. Dark eyes blinked back at Mirth, fear slowly growing in them.

Mirth stepped back, letting the smaller boy sit up. “What were you doing in a tree?”

“I…was hiding…?” His answer came out more like a question. He struggled to his feet, carefully brushing the dirt from his silken shirt and embroidered trousers. Nervously licking his lips, he ruffled his already messy dark brown hair. “From someone.”

“From someone?” Aaralyn voiced, nearly on her feet. “Why are you hiding from someone?” There was a hint of fear in her voice, eyes already darting to the face in the tree and the fruits among shimmering purple leaves. “Are they dangerous?”

The newcomer nervously rubbed his hands together, eyes unable to meet hers as he looked at something in the distance. “I…think?” He ran his hands through his hair again, gritting his teeth. “Oh! I don’t know. I was scared of him. He was chasing me.”

Aaralyn’s eyes only managed to grow wider, and the color drained from her face. “Was it a…Jyyn?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds!” The newcomer raised his hands in alarm. “He might have been a Jyyn, but I’m sure he isn’t as dangerous as some Jyyn. I don’t know why he’s in this forest, though. This forest is really, really full of magic.” He shook his head, waving his hands in front of his face. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Okay.” Mirth planted a hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder. “Let’s start with your name. I’m Mirth, and she’s Aaralyn.”

“Ir-Irfan.”

“Okay, Irfan. You were hiding in a tree because a Jyyn was chasing you?” Mirth questioned, one of the disk-fruit still held in his hand.

“No… I was just…running away from him…because I was scared…” Irfan scoffed the parched earth with his foot.

“So, no one’s actually chasing you?” Mirth reiterated.

“Well…no…”

Mirth weighed the two fruits in his hands and walked over to Aaralyn. He offered her one, though she only listlessly held it in her hand. Mirth sniffed the yellow-green fruit again, though he couldn’t help noticing how Aaralyn stared at the strange trees. The young man then glanced at Irfan, who was awkwardly fidgeting where he stood. “So…um…Irfan. Do you know if these fruits are edible?”

Irfan’s head snapped up at Mirth. It took a moment for his dark eyes to focus on the fruit in the taller boy’s hand. “Um…yeah.”

Mirth wasn’t convinced. “Have you eaten one before?”

“Yeah. They taste weird, but nothing happened.” Still, Irfan was fidgeting like a ball of over-firing nerves. At any sound, any fliting shadows across the trees, he flinched. He couldn’t keep still for more than a second, and his fingers were constantly working against each other.

“I don’t want to eat it,” Aaralyn muttered, picking at a piece of dried fish. “I just want to get out of here, Mirth.”

Mirth sighed. “Okay. I’ll just eat them, and you can have a ration of fish and berries.” He bit into the dense fruit, a strange flavor filling his mouth. It was sweet with a hint of sharp flavors he couldn’t identify. “They don’t taste bad.” He offered the other disk-shaped fruit to the Water Asili, but she ignored it, popping a small dark berry in her mouth instead.

Mirth took another bite of the fruit and glanced over his shoulder at Irfan, still standing by the tree he had fallen from. “Are you alone, Irfan?”

Irfan didn’t raise his gaze at the question. “Yes.”

“Well…” Mirth thoughtfully chewed on the thick skin of the fruit. “Would you like to travel with us? We’re heading to Bénipryroda’s Ring. It’s—”

“A magical paradise filled with all that you can eat, the freshest water you can drink, and Shifts rarely happen. Yes!” Irfan covered his mouth the moment he shouted his answer. “Yes. I want to go to Bénipryroda’s Ring with you. I know all about it. My family was going there before we were separated because…” He shut his mouth, a blush of embarrassment rising in his tawny cheeks.

“But please. Take me with you. I don’t want to be alone anymore. Not in this creepy forest with Jyyn.” Irfan approached Mirth, falling onto his knees and clasping Mirth’s hands from where he sat.

“You don’t need to beg.” Mirth shook his hand out of Irfan’s grip. The Oṣó gave Irfan a once over. “It’ll be interesting traveling with a Meek.”

“Meek!” Irfan shrieked, sitting back on his knees and hands planted on his hips. “I am not a Meek. I am a Rāhā. I just…haven’t chosen my deity yet, so I haven’t grown my wings.” He glanced away, slight embarrassment coloring his cheeks once more.

“A Rāhā,” Aaralyn breathed. “Your race grows wings after you choose a deity to worship, right? And the color of your feathers will match the colors of your deity? And you even get minor abilities too. What is it like to serve a deity and have such a strong connection to them? Do you have to do everything they say?”

Irfan shook his head. “I haven’t chosen my deity yet. But my older brother and sister haven’t had any problems. Chishikijñāna doesn’t really ask them to do anything. They don’t have to do any blessing or cursing.”

“Cursing…” Mirth skimmed his fingers over his eye, and the tang of blood filled his mouth. “What deity are you going to worship?”

Irfan shrugged. “All my family worships Chishikijñāna, the Deity of Knowledge. I’m not sure if I want to worship them, though…”

Mirth breathed a sigh. “So, you’re still kind of like a Meek if you haven’t grown your wings.”

“I guess…”

Mirth turned back to his fruit. “We should eat our midday meal and keep moving. I don’t know how long this forest goes, and I don’t want to run into any trouble. I don’t like the sound of Jyyn being in this forest.” He glanced at Aaralyn, who was chewing on a chunk of dried fish.

Irfan finally sat beside the other two and took the other fruit Mirth had picked, taking a small bite out of it. The group ate in tense silence until their food was finished. Before they continued on their way, Mirth hacked off several fruits and stuffed them into Aaralyn and Irfan’s bags. Happy to have more food to eat and knowing that Aaralyn was skilled enough to draw water out of the plants or ground around them, he signaled for the small group to keep moving.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifteen

He Awakens

Rekka stumbled through the darkness of a complex cave system, a small red-orange flame flickering weakly in her hand. Several days had passed since she last encountered Mirth and finally departed from the massive fissure created by the Shift. Without finding a way across the ravine where she had last seen her family, she had decided to journey onwards. Currently, she was traversing a dark cavern in search of a safe, cool place from the midday heat.

“Stupid Oṣó,” she muttered under her breath, glaring into the darkness.

Rekka had reluctantly followed Mirth’s path westward when she hadn’t found anything in the ravine. If she had any hope of surviving in the Wastes, it was best if she followed his directions to the false paradise he had spoken of. It was better than walking in circles.

“I hope my family’s alright…” She paused, sweeping the firelight across the cavern where large flat stones lay collapsed on top of one another. A giant, long-legged cockroach scuttled across the wall, long antennae waving as it searched for food. At a snap of her fingers, it ignited into flames. Rekka’s green eyes narrowed as she watched it burn. “I hate bugs.”

The young woman pushed forward, a memory surfacing of her family’s faces staring down at her from the newly formed cliffside during the ending moments of the Shift. The land had split before she could reach them and then risen some hundreds of feet into the air. Her mother, father, and sister Bhuva had stared down at her. Her other sisters, Enya and Udia, had been nowhere to be seen. All she could hope for was that everyone was okay and that she would see them soon.

Rekka slipped past slick rocks, almost stopped by the temptation to lick the condensation from the damp stone. The water in her canteen had gone dry a day and a half ago, and the headache above her right eye foretold dehydration. Tongue thick and sticking to the roof of her mouth, she still couldn’t bring herself to lean closer to the rocks, knowing more cockroaches walked on those stones.

Sliding through the narrow passageway, Rekka soon found herself in a widened chamber, her heart dropping with relief. She could hear the sound of running water. The young woman pushed her way through another passageway, this one narrower than the first, sides squeezing in on her and scraping her tanned skin. She tried to keep her breathing even though her racing heart betrayed her anxiety.

Then the passageway opened up once more, water reflecting her red-orange flame. Rekka dropped to her knees, her fire wrapping up her arm as she dunked her hands into the water. The liquid boiled, steam filling the cave. She so desperately wanted to guzzle the cold water, but her father had always taught her to boil any water she found. She also learned from the twins, Bhuva and Enya, whom one time had a bout of loose stool and vomiting when they didn’t boil the water they had found.

Barely waiting for the water to cool, Rekka gulped down the near-boiling liquid, hardly noticing the heat running down her throat and pooling in her stomach. As she was slurping down the hot water, the reflection of her fire’s light caught her attention. On the edge of the stream, too far from her, a soft glow reflected in the water.

It wasn’t her fire.

Water dripping from her chin, Rekka dragged her gaze upwards to the source of the light. A soft orange glow emanated from a small gap between the sleek, dark stone. Wiping away the last of the water, Rekka rose to her feet and approached the fiery glow. Her own fire cast light on smooth, black stone. It was unlike the rock around it, and only a large piece of it, larger than her, lay in the back of the cavern. Rekka took another step closer.

The stone was moving.

No. It was breathing.

Rekka traced the outline of a humanoid shape, heart racing. She stumbled backward, tripping over her feet. Her fire extinguished when her shoulder splashed into the water. She lay perfectly still, barely daring to breathe. She cursed her panicked panting for being too loud. She waited some seconds in a long silence, watching for any movement of the slumbering monster.

He did not move.

Slowly, Rekka climbed to her feet, the smallest of red flames blooming in the palm of her hand. She kept it close to her and approached Odysseus’s unconscious form. Stupidly, she kicked a small stone into his sleek obsidian-like flesh. It bounced off the tar-colored skin. The Terror of the Wastes did not stir.

“Fä can live through almost everything.” Rekka reminded herself, barely able to comprehend that the man had fallen into a newly opened ravine, survived, and was now slumbering in front of her. All in only a few days. Wounds no longer marred his body. The gaping hole where his eye had been was sealed and the blood-gushing wounds in his torso healed over, leaving smooth obsidian-like skin.

She should have run rather than stand and stare down at the unconscious beast, but she couldn’t believe she was in his presence once more and didn’t need to run for her life. Rekka had survived him once already, which was a feat in and of itself. Seeing him for a second time was even more remarkable.

Through her quivering fear, Rekka heard her father’s voice in the back of her mind. Fear was a weakness, and she should not show it. She was powerful. She should not run. Odysseus was unconscious, and he could do no harm.

Rekka’s eyes trailed upwards to the large stone teeth hanging from the roof of the cavern. One just so happened to hang directly over Odysseus’s sleeping form. Impaling the Terror of the Wastes would get her name spoken in legends, even if she was the only one that spoke of them. Yes, it would make her father proud, and she would be known throughout the land as one of few who battled with Odysseus and lived to tell the tale.

Rekka only had one shot to loosen the stone tooth. Releasing a long, slow, steady breath, she stepped back, hands cupped over one another and pressed close to her stomach. A dark red flame formed in the center of her palm, lapping at her fingers as it grew a deep, richer red streaked with brilliant orange.

Biting back a caterwaul, Rekka wound back her arm and launched a solidified fireball at the base of the stone tooth.

Swearing under her breath, she stumbled back to the passageway she had slipped through, barely able to see the dark red flames curling around the base of the stone. Small cracks had spiderwebbed across the surface, but there was no telling how durable the stone was. She hoped it was weak enough.

Then, the stone tooth fell.

Rekka had to cover her ears when Odysseus roared. Immediately, he wrenched the stone from his chest, the pits of fire that were his eyes glancing up at the stone ceiling before his gaze snapped to Rekka. She hadn’t thought about the consequences, had she? Heart pounding in her ears, she could only stare, rooted to the cave floor.

Dark blood gushing from the gaping wound in his chest, Odysseus slowly climbed to his feet. His volcanic appearance melted away into something less monstrous. His skin still held the same tarry-black color, and two sets of horns adorned the back of his skull while a spine jutted from each elbow. He ran a tongue across his dried lips, revealing serrated teeth. Claws dragged across the cavern wall until he stopped in front of the quivering Rekka.

“You were the girl with the Oṣó boy.” Embers of orange and yellow danced in his irises, the glow reflecting off his inhuman skin. He pressed a large, clawed hand to his bleeding wound, a smile growing on his dark lips. “Tell him that I’m waiting.”

He shoved Rekka into the passageway she had been cowering in, his dark chuckle echoing within the chamber. “Find him, little Fire Asili. Find him for me so I can rip out his heart with my bare hands.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen

Tension in the Forest of Magic

After their midday meal, the group of four meandered through the forest. Mirth led them, still gnawing on a bright yellow-green fruit. The forest had only become denser the further they walked with no thinning of the trees in sight. Mirth was unphased by the thickening forest, chewing the last of a disk-shaped fruit and watching one of the strange, feathered creatures glide overhead. Even though Mirth did not exude the anxious fear his two traveling companions did, there was still alertness in how his gaze swept over the trees every so often. Irfan’s warning about Jyyn lingered, reminding him there were threats in this forest. 

Beside Mirth, Irfan flinched when one of the birds screeched overhead. He gasped, cowering beside the taller boy when a large shadow swept over them, another screech filling the air. Irfan’s dark gaze followed the shadow through the collage of purple and blue leaves.

Mirth ignored him and kept walking.

“Mirth…” Aaralyn whimpered, wiping sweat from her brow, the heat of the Wastes seeping through the forest. “When will we get out of here?” She drew the sweat off her skin, nervously rolling the tiny orb of water between her fingers. “I don’t like this forest.”

“I know, Aaralyn. You keep saying that.” Mirth gazed up at the colorful canopy, trying to spot one of the elusive screeching birds. “I don’t know how big the forest is, but we’ll get out of it soon. We just have to keep moving. And we haven’t run into any trouble yet, so stop being so worried.”

“Yet,” Irfan stressed, nearly clinging to Mirth’s arm. “I told you about those Jyyn. They could be hiding in the trees, waiting to ambush us.”

“But we haven’t run into any of them. It’s been half a day since Aaralyn, and I have been walking through this weird forest. And you said it yourself. Those Jyyn aren’t really dangerous.” Mirth wrenched his arm from Irfan’s grasping fingers. “And will you stop trying to hold my arm?”

Just as Mirth pried Irfan’s fingers from his shirt, an animalistic roar echoed through the forest, this one different than the shrill sounds of the birds. Irfan screamed, latching himself to Mirth’s arm. Aaralyn also froze, the tiny ball of water she had been rolling between her fingers shaping into slim needles.

“Irfan!” Mirth wrenched the smaller boy’s white-knuckled grip from his arm. “It was just some animal. There’s nothing to be worried about.” He snapped his gaze to the frozen Aaralyn with a huff, though his eyes softened a bit. “If you keep getting spooked by this forest, it’s going to take twice as long to get out of it.” He ran his fingers through his long, dark brown hair, a sigh of frustration escaping.

Just as Mirth pushed forward to keep them at a faster pace to make up for lost time, Aaralyn gasped in pain. He spun around. The Water Asili was doubled over in pain. He was beside her in a few strides, hands hovering over her hunched form but not touching. “Aaralyn! What’s wrong?”

“No-nothing. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” she breathed through the pain, barely able to give Mirth a trembling smile. Then, almost as suddenly as it came, it was gone. Aaralyn rubbed her hip and blinked away the light-headedness. She gave Mirth another weak smile, a slight blue glow dancing in her eyes. “I think I’m okay now. It must have been a cramp. I’m probably dehydrated. Water Asili don’t do all that great in this kind of heat.”

The young woman’s eyes then caught Irfan’s gaze. The wingless Rāhā stared back, mouth gaping and hands squeezing the hem of his silken shirt. His dark eyes were about to bulge out of his skull as he stuttered out. “Glo-glowing. Eyes. Ey-eyes glowing. Yours.”

Fear flashed across Aaralyn’s features before she looked away. Mirth stared at the pair in confusion. Then Aaralyn looked back at him, dark blue eyes no longer glowing. Her ever-present nervousness still clung to her like static-charged wool as she gave him another forced smile. “Let’s keep moving, Mirth. I just want to get out of this forest. I don’t feel good.”

“Ri-right,” Mirth stuttered, running a hand through his own sweat-soaked hair. With an exhale of his own, he turned back to the direction they had been traveling.

Irfan was beside him once more, clinging to his side. Aaralyn hung back, walking a few paces behind the pair, lost in her own world. She kept a hand pressed to her right hip, her eyes sometimes glowing softly before the gentle blue light would disappear. Mirth couldn’t help but frown when he noticed the glow, but he didn’t say anything.

Irfan’s surprise seemed to have disappeared immediately when another bird screeched overhead. Mirth ignored everything, pushing it to the back of his mind, and tried to focus on walking through the forest. It didn’t help much that Irfan was clinging to his arm like a frightened child.

Aaralyn ran her hands through a clump of blue leaves, pulling the water from the foliage. She almost flicked the liquid away from her. It shimmered a slight blue the moment it touched her hands. Even as her brows furrowed in concern, she let the liquid swirl around in her hands. It looped across her skin and pooled into a smooth orb. She pulled it apart and wound it around her arm. As the water cooled her warm skin, she looked up at Mirth and Irfan. “Why don’t we talk a little bit about ourselves? Maybe it’ll help our nerves.” She smiled, only to wince. The glow in her eyes had returned.

Mirth shrugged, jabbing his thumb into his injured hand. With his growing irritation, the painful throb had returned, and it only seemed to increase as he thought about his family. “I don’t have any siblings…and I don’t even know if I have any more living relatives.” He pressed his thumb hard into the center of his hand, ignoring Irfan’s fearful, questioning gaze. “My mother was killed by Odysseus. We had been traveling with my grandparents when the Shift happened. I don’t even know if they are alive.”

“Well, maybe if we talk about it more, it’ll make you feel better.” Aaralyn offered him a smile like she had done the night they had spoken about his mother’s death. “I know it’s still hard, but it’ll get easier.” Her gaze, still holding a slight glow, shifted to Irfan.

The Rāhā avoided eye contact, nervously rubbing his fingers through his silken shirt. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mirth.” He didn’t look up as he continued to speak, embarrassment coloring his voice. “I have four siblings. I’m the second youngest.  I guess my family’s okay, but…my siblings tease me a lot. I’m not like them.” He scrunched the bottom of his shirt, biting his lip as memories washed over him, but he did not dare speak of them. “We are a bit wealthier than other families, but that’s because we’re Rāhā that worship a Deity of Knowledge. I got separated from my older siblings during the Shift. I don’t even think they tried looking for me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Irfan.” Aaralyn gave him a small smile, though she was still struggling through the unexplained pain she was suffering. “I have three siblings, and another one’s on the way.”

“I hope your mother and the baby are okay,” Mirth said.

“I hope so too.” Aaralyn let the water she had been toying with curl around her other hand, a worried sigh escaping her. “I hope everyone is okay. I don’t know what I would do if I found out one of my siblings died.” She sent Mirth a sad smile, knowing he had suffered the worse between the three of them.

A branch broke, and Irfan gasped. “Something’s following us!” His scrawny arms latched onto Mirth’s arm, squeezing the taller boy in a tight, white-knuckle grip.

Mirth stared off into space, silently cursing himself for allowing the Rāhā to travel with them. Jaw clenched and not removing his gaze from where he watched the wind rustle nearby leaves, he grumbled. “You know nothing about personal space, do you? Can you please let go of my arm and get away from me, Irfan?” He then pushed the other boy away from him, sending a sharp glare at the trembling Rāhā before brushing invisible dirt off his shoulders.

Irfan shied away and wrapped his arms around himself. The tension was rising once more between the group. Only a moment of silence had passed between them when Irfan spied the emerald and ruby necklaces Mirth wore. Catching the glint of a rune carved in the green gemstone, Irfan couldn’t stop himself. He was beside Mirth again. “What’s that?” And without asking, he grabbed the rune engraved emerald and pulled.

A slap resounded through the forest.

Irfan stumbled back, holding his throbbing hand as he stared up at Mirth with large, dark eyes.

“Don’t you dare touch my necklace again,” Mirth snarled, hand wrapped around the emerald, a soft teal glow emanating from his hand.

“I-I-I’m sorry.” Irfan dropped back, his gaze lowered.

“Mirth,” Aaralyn scolded, settling her hands on Irfan’s shoulders. “That wasn’t necessary.” She squeezed Irfan’s shoulders when a sniffle sounded from the smaller boy. “And Irfan, you don’t touch other people’s things without their permission, especially if it’s something they are wearing.” She lowered her voice, fearing Mirth would snap again. “That necklace was a gift from his mother before she was killed.”

“Oh.”

“Just— Get away from me. Damn it, you’re annoying.” Mirth was running his hands through his hair once more, biting back a groan of pain. The half-healed wound on his hand was throbbing again. He pressed his hand close to his chest, glaring at the colorful leaves, cursing the forest as he marched ahead. The pain in his hand hadn’t been this bad since he had first cut it with the ruby. Even now, it seemed the blood-red gemstone was reacting to his rising anger, heat flaring across his chest.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Aaralyn’s voice was barely audible as she comforted the whimpering Irfan. She watched Mirth march into the distance and stop in front of the trees. Another jab of pain pierced her hip again, and the glow returned to her dark blue eyes. She, too, hated the forest, but for a far different reason. “Just give him a moment to cool down.”

Irfan didn’t say anything, tears gathering in his eyes as he rubbed his throbbing hand.

“Get down! Get down!” Mirth ran back in their direction, fear replacing the irritation. He grabbed Aaralyn’s hand, and she grabbed Irfan. Mirth pressed the pair to a tree and ducked behind the white trunk. Not a moment later, a man emerged from the colorful foliage.

Muscular with almond-colored skin and bright amber eyes. The man couldn’t have been more than thirty years old, but his hair was already grey, streaked with darker patches. His bare shoulders and the back of his neck were adorned with rosette spots akin to a leopard’s, though they were a dark grey in color. He sniffed the air, a low, inhuman growl rumbling from his chest. He turned to where the three were hidden. There was a wild, animalistic nature to his sharp features.  However, before he could take a step toward them, a voice called in the distance. Swearing under his breath, he slipped away from the trees.

“Was that the Jyyn?” Aaralyn asked.

“No-No. I think he was a Dýr.” Irfan stuttered, peering over the rock.

When the coast was clear, the group continued moving. The sun rose into the sky, casting its heat onto the travelers that even the strange trees couldn’t shade them from. Aaralyn continued to toy with the water she had gathered and made sure to keep herself and the two young men well hydrated as they walked. Still, the heat and Mirth’s returning irritation kept the conversation at a standstill.

A yowl of some strange creature in the distance startled Irfan, and once more, he was nearly clinging onto Mirth’s arm. Mirth glared, his irritation rising again. “Some Rāhā you are. Stop being such a coward. Haven’t you been outside the protection of your home before?” Even as Mirth spoke these words, he knew that the terrified look painted on Irfan’s face reminded him of someone.

Himself.

“Most Rāhā aren’t warriors,” Irfan muttered. “We become Elders of a temple or monastery. Some just go about their daily business and do what they can to serve their deity. My family doesn’t have any warriors because they serve a deity of knowledge. Chishikijñāna doesn’t need warriors.”

Mirth gave a strangled groan. For the umpteenth time, he tore himself from Irfan and ran his hands through his long hair. He paced for a moment before he faced Irfan again. Aaralyn stood off to the side, an orb of water still in her hands, unsure what to do if a fight broke between the two.

“Maybe I can help you. Here,” Mirth formed a staff of magic in his hand. “Try to dodge this. If you could increase your reflexes or…”

“Mirth, I’m not very…” Irfan’s voice trailed off, his eyes growing wide. Before Mirth could swing the teal staff at him, he pointed a quaking finger at the incoming creature.

Mirth looked over his shoulder as a black-haired woman plowed into his side. The trio tumbled as a mass of bodies. They untangle themselves, and Mirth found himself staring into familiar green eyes.

“Rekka!”

Chapter Text

Chapter Seventeen

Burning Fear and Singed Fur

Burning hate filled those green eyes the moment Rekka recognized Mirth. The Fire Asili clambered to her feet, thrusting a finger at him. “Get away from me!”

“You’re the one that ran into me,” Mirth snapped back. “What in the name of Sasba are you doing here anyway? How’d you find us? I thought you never wanted to see me again because I was the bane to all your problems?” He pressed his throbbing hand to his chest, unsure if he was gritting his teeth in anger or pain.

Aaralyn peered behind Mirth, her eyes widening at the sight of another Asili. “You look terrified,” she squeaked out. “What were you running from?”

Aaralyn cowered behind Mirth when Rekka sent her a scalding glare. The Fire Asili saw the ball of water floating around Aaralyn. The other young woman was the opposite Asili of Rekka. By all decrees, the Water Asili was just as much of an enemy as a different race was.

“Yeah, Rekka. Why are you terrified?” Mirth repeated the question, situating himself in front of Aaralyn, putting the Fire Asili’s focus back on him.

“Terrified? Me?” Rekka snorted. “I was trying to find you, Mirth. I’ve changed my mind and want to travel to this…Ring with you and…” Her gaze drifted over Aaralyn and Irfan, a disgusted sneer curling her lips. “Meek and Water Asili. Then again, if I have to travel with things like that...”

“Why would you change your mind? I thought you only traveled with other Fire Asili?” Mirth butted in, a blade of teal magic slowly forming in his hand.

“I’m not a Meek! I’m an undecided Rāhā. I haven’t grown my wings yet.” Irfan’s voice squeaked from where he had been cowering some paces away.

“Does it matter?” Rekka snarled, a dark orange flame blooming on her right fist. Spying his frightened look, she extinguished her flames. “I think you would value my protection.” Her gaze found Mirth’s again. “You’re going to need all you can get.”

A roar echoed through the forest, followed by shouting. Mirth’s gaze hardened. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean, ‘what did I do?’ I haven’t done anything, you stupid Oṣó!” Even as she said this, fear paled her features. She couldn’t stop herself from flinching when another roar rang through the forest.  “I just came here to join you.”

“You’re lying. You were running from that thing, weren’t you? You did something to piss it off.” Mirth stepped forward, though his gaze shifted to look over Rekka’s shoulder, waiting for the source of the roar to burst from the trees.

“When did you get so confrontational?” Rekka snapped, fire flickering to life on both hands.

“When—” Mirth cut himself off. “When I was separated from my family. I’ve been on my own since the Shift.”

“Big deal. So have I. I had also burned the living daylights out of Odysseus not even a few hours ago.” She stepped forward, the fire on her hands burning brighter. “I found him in a cavern, unconscious from his wounds. I don’t know how he got there, but he obviously could walk after that fall. All his wounds were healed, but then I burned him alive.”

Mirth held her gaze, anger boiling inside him. He desperately wanted to say that she was lying. That there was no way that the beast could still be alive, but deep in his heart, he knew there was little that could kill a Fä.

“And he’s going after you for that ruby you’re still wearing,” Rekka spat, pointing a flaming finger at the red gemstone strung around Mirth’s neck, hanging just above the emerald his mother had gifted him.

“Shut up!”

“What…?” Irfan croaked from beside Mirth, stepping away from the taller boy, eyes locked on the red gemstone.

Mirth ignored him, approaching Rekka. “I was told that I should wear this ruby with pride. That whoever knows where it belonged would see me as a great warrior.”

“More like a cursed idiot who will forever have Odysseus on his tail because he refused to toss aside a necklace he stole from one of Odysseus’s dead lovers. There’s no damn way I’ll travel with you. Forget it. I was thinking about helping you, but maybe I won’t. I don’t want to be killed by Odysseus. And I also don’t want to be searching for some place that doesn’t exist.”

“Mirth…?” Irfan looked up at Mirth, eyes wide with fear. “Is that all true?”

Mirth said nothing, his hands clenched into tight fists. His fingernails dug into the wound made by the ruby, breaking open the tender skin. Blood trickled from the cut. “I don’t think it would matter if I had the ruby or not.”

“And why is that? Were you cursed since birth? Was your entire family cursed?” Rekka let out a sharp bark of laughter. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Bitch.”

“Excuse me?” Rekka raised her fist. “Would you like to say that again?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Rekka.” Mirth snarled, taking a step closer to the Fire Asili, magic building up in his hands. “You’re a bitch. You think you’re all that. I bet you ran screaming your head off when you saw Odysseus, and he didn’t feel an ember on his tar-colored skin.”

“Please, stop. I don’t know what’s going on anymore.” Irfan spoke from the sidelines, crouching low as he covered his head with his hands. “Stop. I don’t want to hear any more arguing. I don’t like it.”

“I burned him with a roaring yellow flame that would have melted your skin off your bones. The only reason he survived was because he’s a Fä. Be glad I did that, or he would have been stringing your intestines on these branches right now. Now he has to nurse the wounds I gave him, which gives you more time to run and hide from his wrath.”

“Then maybe it would be better if you burned me alive right now so that I don’t have to suffer from being gutted alive by the Terror of the Wastes?”

This time, Rekka said nothing, holding Mirth’s gaze. Slowly, the fires around her fist died, and she took a step back. Mirth stood where he was, watching what she would do next. Irfan clutched his head as he trembled under one of the white-barked trees. Aaralyn rubbed his back, though her eyes were filled with fear and worry.

Another roar ripped through the forest.

Rekka whirled around and sucked in a breath of fear.

A sleek, rosette-spotted pelt slunk through the trees. Amber eyes peered at the young adults from behind blue and purple leaves. A soft growl rumbled from the creature. On quiet paws, it approached them, long tail lashing and hunger in its eyes.

“What in the name of Sasba is that?” Rekka’s fire burned brighter as she pointed at the prowling feline.

Irfan gasped. “It’s the Dýr!” In a second, he was clinging to Mirth’s side. “From before.”

“What do you want!” Mirth shouted at the saber-toothed feline, ignoring Irfan’s babbling.

Rekka stared at Mirth as if he was insane. “It’s a cat. It can’t understand you, stupid Oṣó.” She raised her hand, the air around them crackling with heat. “It won’t take much to run it off.”

“Rekka! Don’t!” But Mirth’s warning was too late.

Fire erupted across the grey feline’s back. It roared in pain and ran at Rekka. The feline lunged for her, claws catching the side of her arm, bringing her down to the ground. Jaws clamped on her other arm, large paws moving to dig claws deep into her side. The fire still burned along his back, but the feline was unphased as Rekka’s screams filled the forest.

Swearing, Mirth had already formed a blade of magic. He jabbed it into the feline’s back, just under its shoulder blade. The big cat released Rekka, turning on Mirth. He dodged the swing of its paw with a burst of magic to his legs. The feline leaped at Mirth again, paws outstretched. Mirth parried the blow with a rod of magic.

Rekka sat up, clutching her injured arm. She gawked at Mirth in horror as the large, grey-furred cat continued to swipe at him. Gritting her teeth, she raised her less injured arm and ignited the feline’s back once more. With a roar of pain, it turned to her. This allowed Mirth to stab another magic blade into its back.

Before the feline could turn on Mirth again, high-pitched whistles filled the air. A heartbeat later, three people charged through the forest. Without much as a word between them, they apprehended the feline. The group leader, a slender, middle-aged woman, looked up at the group of young adults.

“Jyyn,” Irfan hissed. “They found us.” He pressed himself to a tree, legs shaking so much that he couldn’t run even if he wanted to.

Mirth said nothing, just staring down the three as the big cat snarled underneath them. This time, he stepped in front of Irfan. He sensed they were staring down the wingless Rāhā as much as they had been staring down the Dýr. A silent message slithered between the Jyyn.

The leader smacked the feline atop of the head, earning her a snarl and a snap of deadly jaws. A moment passed, tail lashing before the feline’s form changed. Silvery grey fur disintegrated, and massive paws turned into hands and feet. The man from before had tried to sniff out the traveling young adults now lay naked on the ground, the same feline-like snarl etched on his face.

The young adults could only stare, dumbfounded, as the three Jyyn dragged the man away.

Once they were out of sight, Mirth turned to Irfan, about to ask him a question, only to remember that Rekka had been severely injured. Just as he was about to check over the gruesome bite wound, she pushed herself to her feet, the smell of burning flesh heavy in the air. Rekka had cauterized her own injury with a fire hotter than what she usually wielded.

“I’m not weak,” Rekka hissed. Her eyes darted to where Irfan was shivering against a tree. She then looked around, but the Aaralyn was nowhere to be found. “Where’s the water lover.”

All tension broke from Mirth, and he looked over his shoulder where Aaralyn had been last standing. She was nowhere to be seen.

“Aaralyn?” He called for the petite, dark-haired woman but received no answer. “Aaralyn?” He pulled back a frond of dried violet leaves.

“We’ll continue this later,” Mirth grumbled under his breath, sending a glare at Rekka over his shoulder. “We have to find Aaralyn first. There’s no telling what’s out there that has been stalking us and what it’ll do to any of us when we’re alone.”

“Like I’m going to look for a water lover.” Rekka hissed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Then stay here and get attacked by those Jyyn.”

Rekka let out a slight growl. She glanced at the trees she had burst from some time ago and cursed under her breath. She followed Mirth and Irfan.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eighteen

Finding a Lost One

When Rekka and Mirth were arguing, Aaralyn slipped away. She didn’t want to hear any more. Her entire body ached, but she wouldn’t dare ease the pain. Another twinge in her hip made Aaralyn stop. She dug her fingers into the ache, the pressure doing little to subside the burning while it felt like spiders were crawling across her skin.

To take her attention away from the shouting voices in the background, she brushed her fingers through a clump of low-hanging leaves, drawing the water from them. Feeling just a little bit at ease without being in the presence of the others, she didn’t hide the glow of her eyes nor the oddly saturated blue color of the water she held in her hand. As she had been doing for some time, Aaralyn let the water curl across her skin, cooling her some.

As she twirled the water in front of her face, something beyond the trees caught her eye. Pausing, she pushed away a thick mat of violet and indigo leaves. The sickly-sweet scent of death washed over her. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it hung in the air like a thin veil. The first thing she thought was that a large animal had died, but then she spotted the tiny cabin situated between several massive white-barked trees.

She cautiously sniffed the air again. The scent emanated from the cabin. The water that she had been swirling around her stiffened into blades, separating into small razors until they pointed every-which direction.

“He-hello? Is anyone there?” Aaralyn approached the cabin, trying to peer through the windows. She couldn’t see anything in the darkened interior from where she stood, nor did she want to. The smell of death was all she needed to know what lay inside.

Someone sniffled.

The edges of her blades softened but did not fully break form. Cautiously, she approached the sound source: a cluster of dark blue bushes, the leaves edged with silver. “Hello? I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to know if you are okay. Please come out.”

Another sniffle came from the bush. Through a gap in the branches, a pair of magenta eyes shined with tears. The skin around those eyes was an ashy-grey.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Please, come out,” Aaralyn repeated, crouching close to the ground and holding out her hand. “Please.”

Gradually, the figure climbed out of the bush, a tear dripping from his eye. The boy may have towered nearly twice as tall as Aaralyn, but his face was youthful, a few years younger than Aaralyn. He whimpered, rubbing a gash on his forearm as he stared at the small woman. Blood stained his tattered clothing, and more gashes and bruises were visible on his arms and legs.

Aaralyn stepped back, some of the water blades falling from her mental grasp while others sharpened to deadly points. The grey-skinned teenager was muscle-bound, typical of his race, albeit not as ripped as most. He bore small tusks that jutted from his lower jaw. They were pearly white and well-cared for. His ears were also pointed, barely covered by his shaggy black hair.

He whimpered again, magenta eyes drawn to the water blades surrounding Aaralyn. He nearly curled in on himself when she stepped closer. He was far more scared of Aaralyn than she was scared of him.

“Hello?” Aaralyn’s greeting was more of a question. Looking over him another time, she managed a shaky smile. “You’re a Yari, aren’t you?”

The boy nodded.

“Is that your home?” She pointed to the cabin.

The Yari whimpered, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. He gave her a feeble nod and turned away from the small structure, another tear slipping down his face. Carefully, he lowered himself to a sitting position so that Aaralyn was now looking down at him rather than staring up at his towering form.

Aaralyn dismissed her blades and pulled more water from the nearby trees. She watched the oddly shimmering blue liquid dance in front of her for a moment, the twinge of pain returning with a vengeance. She couldn’t hide the pain.

The Yari whimpered again, this time worried for the young woman.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s nothing serious. Just a little something acting up because of the forest. I’m okay.” Aaralyn smiled, the water flowing around her arms as if to draw her attention away from the pain until it faded to the same skin-crawling twinge that it had been since she and Mirth had entered the forest. “Can you talk?”

The boy shook his head. He reached above him and snapped off a thick branch with ease and then drew in the dirt. He sniffled again but carefully and neatly wrote out several letters spelling out G-A-R-R-E-T-H.

“Garreth?” Aaralyn echoed the letters drawn in the soft dirt. “Is that your name?”

He nodded.

She stared at the cabin. Aaralyn wanted to ask him what had happened, why he was crying, and why he lived in the forest, but she kept her question simple. “Are you alone?”

Garreth whimpered, looking over his shoulder at the cabin that stank of death. More tears slipped down his face, and then he turned back to Aaralyn. A slow nod accompanied by a sniffle.

Aaralyn knelt in front of him, her form dwarfed by his. “Well, the least I could do is help you. Maybe this would help your cuts.” She drew the water over his wounds, giving him an apologetic smile when he winced. A sweet song her aunt used to sing to her when she had scraped her knee on the riverbed came to mind. Aaralyn hummed softly, the churning water turning a richer blue, wisps of blue dancing within it.

Garreth calmed some, lulled by the song as he watched the water swirl around the gashes and bruises. When Aaralyn pulled the water away, he marveled at the wounds, most of which were now sealed with tender pale grey skin. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. He resorted with a curt nod of thanks, unable to keep the smile off his face.

Aaralyn smiled back, feeling happier than she had since she had entered the forest. The ache in her body finally didn’t hurt so much. “Maybe you should come with us to Bénipryroda’s Ring. It’s a paradise. I wouldn’t want to leave you all alone in this forest.” She climbed to her feet and held her hand to the Yari. “Come on, Garreth, let’s meet the others.”

When he grasped Aaralyn’s hand, hers was so small in his. Garreth couldn’t help but stare as he heaved himself to his feet.

“Have you met many other races before?” Aaralyn asked, dropping the dark blue shimmering water onto the ground. The wet ground looked no different than if she had poured a bucket of normal water onto it. The blue nor shimmer did not remain.

Garreth shook his head.

“So, I’m the first Water Asili you’ve met?”

He nodded.

“Then you’re going to meet a Fire Asili, an Oṣó, and a Rāhā who hasn’t grown his wings yet. They are all unique, different characters, but I’m sure you’ll get along with all of them once they know that you’re a big softy. You’re not like the Yari in all those stories.”

Garreth stared at Aaralyn, confused.

 Aaralyn brushed her hand across the trunk of some trees, once more drawing water from them. With a place surrounded by water within the trees, she could barely be without it. Once they returned to the wasteland, she didn’t know how well she would cope without having the precious liquid just in arm’s reach.

“Do you…know what happened to your family, Garreth?” Aaralyn twirled the clear liquid between her hands.

Garreth nodded.

“Would you like to tell me about it?” Even though Garreth couldn’t speak, Aaralyn wanted to offer him a way to reveal what had happened, hoping it would help the teenager.

Garreth was silent, but then he stopped and snapped off another branch that was nearly chest-height on Aaralyn. Aaralyn paused their walk and allowed him to draw. It started out with the cabin, then two people with tusks and large, thick frames. Then he drew a large feline with spots. Garreth pointed at the feline, then to his parents, crossing an X over them.

“A big cat killed your parents?”

Garreth nodded, then shook his head. He circled the cat, drew an arrow, then etched a picture of a man. He waved the stick back and forth between the big cat and the man.

“He…changed into the cat? Was he a Dýr? A shapeshifter?”

Garreth nodded.

“Why?” The water circling Aaralyn’s arm had slowed to a snail’s pace, just barely touching her skin as the coils rippled.

The teenager just shook his head, sweeping his hand through the dirt. He kept shaking his head as he straightened up, tears already gathering in his eyes. Slowly, he pointed at himself, then gestured to his small tusks before gesturing to himself with both his hands.

“Because you’re a Yari,” Aaralyn voiced.

Garreth slowly nodded, tears rolling down his cheeks. He gave a shaky sigh, clasping his hands behind his back as he gazed down at the picture he had wiped away. Tears dripped from his nose and onto the dirt. He sniffled loudly before wiping the tears from his cheeks.

Aaralyn placed a small hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Garreth. I wish people didn’t hate other people because of their race.” She couldn’t help but frown, her own thoughts reflecting on how, for a split second, her small blades of water had sharpened when she first saw Garreth.

Aaralyn also feared the Jyyn in the forest and still couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear when she thought of the word ‘Jyyn.’ However, the Jyyn that lived in the magic forest, just like Garreth, were as human as she and Mirth. They couldn’t control what they were, but they could control their actions. Garreth was an example of that. Many feared his race, but the teenager standing before her seemed like he couldn’t hurt a fly. The Dýr that had killed Garreth’s family was a prime example of those races that weren’t viewed in a negative light being bad, if not worse, than those races that were feared.

 “Come on, we have to find Mirth and the others.” Aaralyn gave Garreth the brightest smile she could muster. She would teach herself not to look down on any of the other races. She would judge a person by their actions, not the abilities they wielded or their culture. Not every Jyyn had to be feared as not every Rāhā had to be worshiped.

Garreth returned the smile, wiping away another stray tear. Hand-in-hand, the Water Asili and Yari searched for the rest of their rag-tag group.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nineteen

Regroup and Arguments

“Aaralyn!” Mirth pushed his way through the blue and purple foliage, ignoring the scowling Rekka that trailed some paces behind him. Even though he could not see her, the Fire Asili’s gaze was as searing as her flames. It didn’t help Mirth that Irfan was trying to stay as close to him as possible. More than once, the wingless Rāhā had nearly been cut by Mirth’s blade of magic. Twice as many times, Mirth had shouted at him for getting too close, yet, that didn’t dissuade Irfan for long. Currently, the smaller boy was nearly pressed to Mirth’s back, glancing over his shoulder fearfully at Rekka.

“Aaralyn! Where’d you go?” Mirth shouted into the forest, taking a moment to pause and listen for a response.

“Yeah,” Rekka grumbled, testing her wounded arm, which she had bandaged after cauterizing the injury. “Shout to the entire forest where we are. I’d love to have more Jyyn on our asses. Or maybe another saber-toothed Dýr will attack us. That’d be fun.”

“I’m done with you!” Mirth snarled, whirling around and brandishing his blade at her, nearly nicking Irfan’s face in the process. “Will you shut up for once? I don’t need to hear every snide comment.” 

Mirth turned back to the foliage, slicing through more thick purple leaves. The mass slumped to the ground, sending silvery fluff into the air, tiny seeds attached to them. He glared at them too, fingers digging into his injured palm, cracking the dried blood. Just as he raised the blade to slice through more plants, a voice called his name.

“Aaralyn?” Mirth spun around and sprinted through the trees, not caring if the other two followed him.

Rekka casually kept some strides behind him. Beside her, Irfan was already panting from exhaustion. The Fire Asili cocked an eyebrow at Irfan as he stumbled through the foliage after Mirth like a lost puppy. “All these people are going to die out here,” she grumbled under her breath, looking up at the pale indigo leaves. “Why’d I have to be so stupid and get separated from my family? I wouldn’t have to deal with this bunch of idiots.”

Mirth stopped in his tracks when he spotted Aaralyn standing beside a Yari. He gaped at the sight, the blade of magic nearly losing its shape only to glow bright teal when he registered that Aaralyn was standing next to one of the races known for their more violent culture. He thrusted the blade at the Yari, still lost for words.

“Mirth, don’t!” Aaralyn stood in front of the Yari, though her slender, petite frame barely reached his chest. “He’s a nice Yari. I found him in the forest. A cat Dýr killed his parents. Please, don’t hurt him.”

As if to confirm her words, the Yari’s eyes were filled with worry and fear. He stared at the blade Mirth held, almost ready to run away himself.

“This is Garreth.” Aaralyn gestured to the Yari, grasping his hand in comfort. “He’s not a danger, and he can’t speak.”

“A Yari,” Irfan squeaked, nearly collapsing to the ground as he tried to regain his breath. “How…why…? Yari are dangerous.”

“Not all of them. Well, at least Garreth won’t hurt us.” Aaralyn looked up at the teenager with a warm smile, and he returned the smile. “Please, can he come with us, Mirth? He doesn’t have a family anymore, and I don’t want him to be alone in this forest.”

“Oh, no, he isn’t coming with us,” Rekka butted in. “He has those Jyyn who can take care of him. And there’s no way in Sasba that I’m traveling with some soft-hearted Yari boy that doesn’t know how to defend himself. It’s not any better than some Meek-not-Meek who is scared shitless by just a crack of a stick, an Oṣó that could barely stand on his own when he fought me, and a Water Asili. All of you are such weaklings and wouldn’t survive out here alone for more than half-a-moon.”

“So, you’ve decided to stick with us then?” Mirth snarled, pointing his fading blade at Rekka. “Did I ever say you could travel with us?”

“It’s not like you can stop me. We’ll just be traveling to the same place. Besides, I might be reconsidering if we have that thing traveling with us. It’s more than one more mouth to feed. It’s an entire troop. Look at the size of him.”

“But he would be a great companion. Look how big and strong he is. He might not be able to talk, and he might be younger than us, but that doesn’t mean anything. Right, Garreth?” Aaralyn smiled up at him. The young Yari vigorously nodded his head, determination shining in his magenta eyes.

Rekka glared them down, eyes sweeping over each member of the mismatched assembly. She didn’t have much choice, but damn it, she didn’t want to make an association with any of them. Not the Water Asili and the Yari, who was opposite of his race’s usual temperament. Not the boneless Meek who claimed to be of some other race she’d never heard of. And not the Oṣó that was staring her down, a blade pointed at her chest.

A yowl echoed in the distance, and Garreth flinched.

Rekka’s glare intensified, now focused solely on the Yari. “That was probably just the Dýr that nearly mauled me. Some Jyyn took it away before I could burn it alive. Lucky bastard. I wonder what it was after?” Her eyes stayed trained on Garreth, who shifted in discomfort under her gaze.

“There was a Dýr?” Aaralyn gasped. “Did they change into a big cat?”

Mirth nodded, finally lowering his blade as it faded from existence. He wiped the sweat from his brow and released a long exhale. “It was the same man that had been sniffing us out. He turned into some big grey saber-toothed leopard.”

Garreth wailed. He grasped the air but then drew his hand in, a mix of emotions behind his eyes.

Aaralyn squeezed his hand, smiling up at him. “It’ll be okay. The Jyyn have him now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“That’s what I thought.” Rekka pointed a finger at Garreth’s whimpering form. “He’s just going to bring trouble. There was some crazy Dýr out there looking for things to kill, and the Dýr went after an obvious target. Jyyn aren’t the only races that are targeted for genocide. Yari aren’t much better than Jyyn. What’s going to happen when you get to this Bénipryroda’s Ring, and everyone sees you traveling with a Yari?”

“Nothing,” Aaralyn declared. “Everyone will see how much of a sweet, caring person he is and will welcome him with open arms.”

“You don’t even know him!” Rekka stomped her foot, flames flickering to life. “You just met him. How do you know he’s not going to kill all of us for his kill count? My dad said Yari are violent. They keep track of how many people they kill, and the more counts they have, the higher rank they are in their tribe.”

“That’s only true for some tribes…” Irfan muttered, twiddling his fingers as Rekka shouted. He flinched, cowering against a tree when Rekka turned on him, about ready to raise a fiery fist.

“Whether you like it or not, Rekka, Garreth’s coming with us.” Mirth glared at the Fire Asili.

“So the bumbling brute can join, but not me? Fucking stupid Oṣó!” Rekka nearly lunged for Mirth, dark orange flames almost engulfing her entire forearms. “You’re so fucking stupid! You’re still wearing Odysseus’s necklace like it’s not cursed. Do you know that monster is after you! It won’t be long until he’s staring you down in your sleep before he slowly cuts out your innards.”

“How would you know?” Mirth snapped back even though he knew there was a grain of truth to her words.

“Because I fucking spoke to him! I found him in a cave and impaled him with a rock. He then just stared at me and said that he would come looking for you!” The moment those words left her mouth, Rekka spun around, fear contorting her features. “He’s looking for you… And I…”

“I don’t believe you. There’s no way you would be alive if you met Odysseus again.” As Mirth said this, the other three members of the rag-tag group of travelers cowered behind him.

“No! Shut up! We need to start running now.” Rekka looked behind her again. It had dawned on her that she had run from the Terror of the Waste’s, and it wouldn’t take him long to find them if he was actively searching for them. When Mirth didn’t look convinced, she lunged at him. “Damn it, Oṣó! I don’t want to die!”

“You’re not going to!” Mirth struggled against her hold, but Rekka was stronger. She slammed him into the nearest tree, the fire already lapping at her arms, while flames of terror danced in her eyes.

“Please stop…” Irfan’s voice barely reached them as Rekka squeezed Mirth’s wrists, her skin scorching his.

“Stop!” Aaralyn shouted, the water swirling around her a strange deep blue color, and the tree behind her had withered. “Just stop it, you two! This isn’t going to solve anything.”

“I’m not listening to anything you have to say, water lover,” Rekka snarled back, though her flames had died down.

“Ho-how about we-we all take a deep breath.” Irfan raised his hands and lowered them in the rhythm of slow deep breaths. “Then, we can keep going and get out of this forest, yes?”

“You believe her?” Mirth growled, pushing Rekka off him with a slight burst of strength and magic.

“Well…I…” Irfan dropped his hands. “I don’t want to die either. If she’s telling the truth or not… I mean… It’s best to get out of this forest even without the Terror of the Wastes. There are scary Jyyn and bloodthirsty Dýr here.” He looked away from Mirth, hands squeezing the hem of his silken shirt so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Well…and-and…you are wearing a charm from Odysseus. I-I-I recognize it. Anyone who steals something from him will die. That’s how all the stories end.”

A strange wail rang through the forest. The pungent smell of smoke wafted on the air. It was more bitter than mere firewood, the rising smoke thick and dark.

“Odysseus is here. Do you want to die?” Rekka stared down Mirth, clutching her injured arm. “That’s his smoke. He’s going to burn down this entire forest and kill all those Jyyn and whatever else lives here. We’ll die with them if we don’t keep moving.”

Mirth stared back, only for another wail to fill the forest. Without a word, he turned away and signaled for everyone to follow him.

“Whatever with all of this.” Rekka glanced over her shoulder with a loud sigh. “You’re an idiot, and I shouldn’t be following you. I’m just putting my life on the line, but… I’m still going to follow you to this mystical paradise that doesn’t even exist.” She crossed her arms over her chest, turning away from everyone. “Just don’t come crying to me if the Yari eats all the food or when the Terror of the Wastes comes to gut you in your sleep.”

Mirth gritted his teeth, cringing at Rekka’s words. With everyone so excited to reach The Ring, he had started to believe in its existence. Hoped for it. With a shake of his head, he turned to the people that had gathered behind him. Each was so different in their own way, and now they were traveling to the same place.

He wasn’t alone anymore.

But with Odysseus on their tail, he didn’t know how long that would last.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty

In Search of Food and Comfort

Some days had passed since the band of five travelers had come together in the strange magic-sodden forest. They had suffered an entire night among the white-trunks and under a canopy of cerulean and amethyst leaves, but by late midday the next day, they finally reached its end. When they slipped past the last of the white-barked trees with silver-tipped leaves of indigo, they were welcomed into the burning heat of a different wasteland. The Shift’s destruction nearly half-a-moon ago had not reached this barren land. Plants grew in this wasteland, albeit small and sparse. The sky did not possess such a harsh yellow glare, now a soft, subdued teal. Overall, it wasn’t as desolate, but food and water were still hard to come by.

The land was still dying.

The last reserves of the disk-shaped fruit and whatever else was packed had been devoured the previous morning. Tired, thirsty, and hungry, emotions were running high between the band of five. With Aaralyn on an empty stomach and the earth and air as dry as it was, she struggled to provide enough water. It also didn’t help that any form of food they encountered in the past day-and-a-half was sabotaged by the unforgiving heat or devoured by another creature.

“When are we going to get to this stupid Ring, Oṣó?” Rekka grumbled, shaking sweat from her hair. “I’m starving because those stupid dawn-horses ate all the fruit. Serves them right that they got eaten by that terror-bird. I just wished I could have burned that thing too.” She clenched and unclenched her outstretched hand, a tiny red flame flickering in her palm. “It would have made a good meal.”

“You wanted to eat rotten fruit, Rekka?” Irfan asked, only to squeak in fear when the Fire Asili sent him a heated glare. “I mean…it couldn’t have been good for us since it was rotting… and that terror-bird wasn’t a good thing either. They’re dangerous. It could have killed us. What if your fire didn’t work? I’ve read books about terror-birds killing people. They have huge talons and deadly hooked beaks. Even if—”

“Shut up.” Rekka rolled her eyes in exasperation, the small flame in her hand gaining a more orange hue. “I’ve seen terror-birds before. I know what they can do. Didn’t you watch it thrash those dawn-horses before ripping them in half?”  She let out a bark of laughter. “That’s what they get for eating my food.”

“No,” Irfan looked away, tapping his index fingers together. “I didn’t watch.”  During the event that had taken place an hour or so ago, he couldn’t stomach the sight of the massive bird killing the poor horse-like mammals. He had looked away and covered his ears.

“You’re morbid, Rekka,” Aaralyn mumbled, looking a little green herself. She had also caught a glimpse of the terror-bird shaking the dawn-horses like ragdolls before it tore them in half and choked down chunks of bloody flesh in one gulp. It had been starving as much as they were. In the end, it was best the bird had gone after the small mammals, or the band of five may have lost a member to a starving, man-sized, predatory bird. It may have chosen the easier prey because of Garreth’s giant frame, which stood nearly as tall as the terror-bird. Or maybe it was Rekka’s flames, which she had conjured the moment she had spotted the small horse-like mammals, that had stopped it.

“How else did you expect us to get anything to eat, water-lover? Just because you thought they were cute doesn’t mean we can’t eat them. Maybe you and your kind should learn to eat more than fish and water greens. Living out here in a wasteland like this means you have to eat anything that crosses your path, even if it’s a piece of half-rotten fruit or raw carrion-vulture meat.”

“I haven’t been in the wastelands for long. Less than a moon ago, I was living with my family as happy as ever until there was an uproar in my village.” Aaralyn rubbed her arms, blowing a droplet of sweat off her lips. “I don’t know how to survive unless I’m by water,” she mumbled the last part, drawing sweat from her short, dark hair.

Rekka snorted. “I figured that the moment I met you. You’re too soft to be out here.”

Rekka’s words held some truth. While her skin was sun-touched to a deep golden tan, Aaralyn’s skin naturally bore a darker sienna-tone, though it had not seen the brutal sun of the Wastes. The Water Asili was slender and willowy, standing nearly a foot shorter than Rekka. In contrast, Rekka’s powerful six-foot frame was only a few inches shorter than Mirth’s tall, lanky built and possessed more well-toned muscle than the Oṣó she currently walked behind. Between the band of five, the Fire Asili exuded the most power, albeit mixed with an air of arrogance. Aaralyn and Rekka were opposites in every sense.

Aaralyn stayed silent, slipping past Rekka to walk beside Mirth. She opened her mouth to say something, but irritation was rolling off him in waves. She hadn’t seen the warm, friendly side of him since they had found each other at the oasis. She couldn’t help but blame Rekka, but Aaralyn also felt a minor resentment toward Irfan and even herself. Ever since they had entered the strange forest and Rekka had joined them, Mirth had been in a bad mood.

Aaralyn’s heart lurched when she saw Mirth digging his fingers into the palm of his injured hand. Yet again, she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t bring herself to form any words. Mirth’s ever-present anger since Rekka joined their journey to Bénipryroda’s Ring made the words catch in the back of her throat. So, all Aaralyn could do was watch as he tinged the bandages red with his blood. She had so carefully wrapped his hand, made sure the never-healing wound was clean and even applied the tiny amount of salve she had buried deep in her bag to the injury. Aaralyn had been caring for his injured hand since Rekka joined, and every single day, the bandages ended up soaked in blood. And there was nothing she could say to prevent him from breaking open the skin.

“Mirth…” She managed to speak only his name, her eyes locked on the bandages. Aaralyn could say no more when his sharp eyes locked onto her. There was no more softness in his eyes. Only anger, irritation, and frustration filled the russet depths. Aaralyn lowered her head as if to apologize for speaking.

When Mirth turned away, the young woman dropped to the back of the group where Garreth and Irfan walked. Immediately, Garreth’s large ash-grey hand fell onto her shoulder. She looked up and couldn’t help but return the gentle smile he was giving her. At least there was someone that understood her pain and worry. Squeezing the Yari’s hand, Aaralyn turned to Irfan.

As always, the wingless Rāhā was fiddling with the hem of his silken violet shirt, which had accumulated numerous stains throughout the few days. His dark gaze wasn’t focused on much of anything as he stared in the vague direction of the setting sun. Even as tousled brown hair fell into his eyes, he seemed not to care, fully withdrawn into his own little world. Words hung on his lips as he mouthed nonsense, hands working his shirt akin to a kitten kneading its paws against its mother’s belly. Watching him for a moment longer, Aaralyn couldn’t bring herself to break his trance. It was one of few times she had seen him without fear and anxiety painting his features. In the end, she settled with humming a sweet tune that her aunt had always sung.

By the third time through the song, Aaralyn’s mood had lightened. Garreth had joined her humming with a much deeper thrum from the back of his throat, along with a steady beat of his hands against his thighs. The others seemed to not take notice, other than Rekka’s stride wasn’t so ridge with irritation, and Mirth had stopped jabbing his fingers into his wounded palm.

On the fifth repeat of the song, Aaralyn felt something.

It was subtle, just tracing her fingertips, but she recognized the sensation. Without a word, she stopped humming and jogged past Mirth. She swept her hand through the air, a thin ribbon of water rising from the parched earth. Aaralyn turned to the rest of the party, a smile lighting up her face. “Water!”

Relief settled over Mirth’s features. “That’s great, Aaralyn.” His voice was tired. Even his shoulders slumped with the exhaustion weighed down on him from the past few days of traveling. “We can follow it, and hopefully, there will be something to eat too.”

“With our shitty luck, we’ll find a meadow of deadly nightshade,” Rekka grumbled, the dark red flame she had summoned earlier slowly crawling up her arm. “Maybe I’ll still eat some so that I can finally end the torture of traveling with you pathetic idiots.”

“Rekka,” Aaralyn snapped to the taller girl. “How can you talk like that?”

“What?” The flame grew larger, moving back to the center of her hand. “Are you that offended that I insulted you or that you don’t like me talking about killing myself? Don’t worry, stupid water-lover, I want to see my family again too. There’s no way I would actually end my life.” A fleeting softness washed over Rekka’s visage. Her voice wasn’t rough as she whispered, “I really miss my sisters and my parents.”

Mirth stiffened at Rekka’s words. He stayed silent as he led the band of travelers along the length of the ever-widening river. Aaralyn fell into place beside him, wanting to be close to the water as possible. Just seeing it rejuvenated her. After days of walking through the dry, deserted wasteland, she couldn’t wait to take a swim and replenish herself.

It wasn’t much later when Garreth grunted and pointed to something in the distance. Aaralyn followed his finger to a cliffside, to which Garreth grunted again, jabbing his finger harder. The water, which had grown into a swift-moving river, poured down the cliffside. However, it was too steep to see over, and the party didn’t know what could be lurking in the waters or gully below.

Just as Rekka started walking toward the waterfall, Aaralyn knelt beside the river and dipped her hand into the water. The cool liquid flowed over her skin, and she took a moment to relax and breathe. Just being in contact with it washed away the stress from the past few days. It was as if she was back with her family, splashing in the waters with her siblings.

Rekka turned around and stared at the Water Asili in exasperation. “What in the name of Sasba are you doing?”

Irfan shushed the red-haired woman, watching intently as Aaralyn reached further into the water, her hand seemingly disappearing. Her eyes had fallen close, but behind her eyelids, they were moving as if she were looking at something.

“There are some trees with large fruit on them but—”

Rekka shot off toward the cliffside. Mirth ran after her, Irfan following steps behind. Aaralyn opened her eyes, shoulders slumping as she watched the three gather at the ledge. Rekka had nearly careened off the edge, sending small rocks tumbling down into the small forest below. Garreth patted Aaralyn on the shoulder and helped her to her feet, leading her to the others.

Rekka turned on Aaralyn, face twisted with fury. “I thought you said there were trees with fruit?” She pointed to the primarily barren trees below them. Pale-blue-skinned people with elegantly pointed ears were weaving through the trees. Many carried several large, dark fruit in their arms while others were still busy picking the fruit from the branches' high reaches. “They’re eating all the food. Stupid Fae. Maybe I should give them a piece of my mind.” The flame that had still been smoldering in her hand grew into a blazing red-orange fire.

“Rekka. No.” Mirth gave her a sharp glare. “Everyone in the Wastes is starving. They got here first. There’s no point in starting a fight with an entire tribe.”

Garreth grunted, pointing to the tall, slender figures of the blue-skinned people who were slowly disappearing over the crest of the hill. He then took Aaralyn’s hand and pulled her down into the ravine with him, carefully sliding down the loose rocks.

A ragged sigh sounded from Mirth as he ran a hand through his long dark brown hair, undoing the ponytail that kept the sweat-damp locks away from his face. “We should go down there too. Hopefully, there’s something left.” He stumbled down the cliffside after the Yari and Water Asili, forced to use magic to strengthen his legs so he didn’t tumble face-first down the cliffside when the loose rocks gave way. But then Irfan plowed into his side, sending him into Garreth’s back. The Yari looked over his shoulder with a confused grunt.

“So-sorry,” Irfan stuttered, scrambling to his feet and staring at Mirth with wide, fear-filled eyes.

The Oṣó’s eyes were dark with anger, fists clenched so hard that blood trickled from his bandaged hand. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you, Irfan? Get away from me!” Mirth charged off into the trees, swearing and kicking any object in his way.

Rekka’s laughter filled the air above them. “Bad luck with the cursed one, huh?” She slid down the loose rocks with ease until she was grinning down at Irfan, a near malicious glint in her eyes.

Garreth tried to return the glare, but it didn’t hold anywhere near the same burning intensity of Rekka’s eyes. The Yari did manage to take her attention from the small boy when he clapped a hand onto Irfan’s shoulder and pulled him close to his chest. He huffed at Rekka, jutting his chin, the dying sunlight reflecting off his white tusks.

“Whatever.”

Aaralyn pressed her forehead to Garreth’s arm. “Let’s go find some food. I’m hungry.” The exhaustion in her voice was mixed with defeat and almost cracked with the tears she was trying to hold back. She couldn’t handle the disputes between the group anymore, having worn her resilience thin.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-One

Bitter Spats

“I found a tree with fruit on it.” Mirth’s tired voice drifted to the others from somewhere within the cluster of towering trees.

The rest of the party found him staring up at the tree, his injured hand pressed to his stomach, blood seeping through the bandages, and staining his shirt. He didn’t seem to notice, though there was pain in his features. Garreth gently pushed him aside, rubbing his hands together. The Yari wrapped his arms around the trunk and shook it. The tree wobbled, but nothing fell from its branches. Garreth tugged at the tree, but the deep roots refused to let go of their earthy anchor. Without success, the Yari stepped away from the skinny tree, whimpering.

Aaralyn placed a hand on his arm, smiling up at him as if silently saying, ‘you did your best.’

“Maybe I should burn it.” A new, brighter orange flame appeared in Rekka’s palm, growing larger by the second.

“Then you’ll burn the fruit, stupid Fire Asili,” Mirth snapped.

“Maybe we could stack on top of each other’s shoulders.” Aaralyn’s suggestion was near void of emotion as she stared at the large fruit so far above her head. “Mirth could stand on Garreth’s shoulders, then Rekka can climb on Mirth’s shoulders, then me on Rekka’s shoulders. I think we’ll be tall enough.”

“You’re not getting me on top of the stupid Oṣó’s shoulders, nor am I letting you stand on my shoulders, water-lover.” Rekka turned away, arms crossed over her chest. “I’ll find my own food an easier way.” The fire she conjured grew even brighter as she walked away, a tree already chosen.

“Don’t listen to her, Aaralyn. It’s a good idea.” Mirth smiled at her, though it was forced, his own exhaustion shining through his somewhat bloodshot eyes.

Garreth bent down and let Mirth climb onto his shoulders. He hoisted the lighter man into the air as he stood close to the tree. Aaralyn, like a water-spider, scaled Garreth and Mirth with ease. Once perched precariously on the Oṣó’s shoulders, she tried to reach for the fruit, but her fingers just grazed the smooth shell.

“Irfan. Come help us,” Aaralyn called.

“M-me?” he stuttered, pointing to himself. “I-I-I don’t know. I’m not good with heights.” He flinched when Rekka’s mocking laughter rang from where she stood in front of her tree. She had not set to the task of burning her tree, finding the ridiculous scene in front of her too amusing to miss.

“Please, Irfan. You can do it. Then we’ll have delicious fruit to eat.”

Irfan whimpered but nonetheless slowly scaled the trio. Garreth’s large body was easy enough to climb, but then when he maneuvered onto Mirth, he pulled on the taller boy’s hair, making him hiss in pain. Frantically apologizing, he managed to clamber onto Aaralyn’s shoulders, tawny cheeks flushed red when he had to grab onto her waist and nearly touched her breasts.

With Aaralyn’s tight grip on his ankles, Irfan reached into the trees and plucked what large fruits he could from the branches. There were moments when the stack wavered, but Garreth stood as a strong base, watching with sharp eyes. Irfan passed each large fruit down the human ladder until there was at least one large fruit for each of them, including Rekka. Once the fruit was gathered, the four carefully disassembled.

Garreth picked up the largest of the fruits, tapping a finger to the hard, maroon shell. He smashed the fruit onto one of his tusks, successfully breaking open the shell to reveal soft, pale pink flesh inside. Before he could scoop out a mouthful of the succulent fruit-meat, the sharp sting of smoke wafted over his nose.

Rekka had set her smaller tree on fire as she faced the other four. She locked eyes with Mirth, a mocking smile growing as a ring of fire wrapped around the tree but did not reach the leaves or precious fruit. She would show him that she had control over her flames. Just as the base of the tree began crumbling, a gust of wind fueled the flames upwards. They jumped into the leaves and lap at the dark-shelled fruit. The Fire Asili cursed but did not extinguish the flames until the tree fell.

Mirth shook his head, a sick smile quirking his lips when Rekka pulled off only a few measly fruits that had cracked open due to the flames. A portion of the leaves had also been burned, making them inedible, that is, if Rekka had considered eating them. Nonetheless, the young woman gathered the fruit and a few of the unburnt leaves and seated herself some distance away from the rest of the party.

“Looks like she can fend for herself,” Mirth muttered. He pressed a thumb into the fruit, the hard shell breaking as he poured more and more magic into his hand. The shell nearly shattered, but he managed to keep most of the fruit and juices inside one half. With a dull blade made of teal magic, he scooped out a chunk of pale fruit-meat and stuffed it in his mouth, angrily chewing. He nearly spat out the food when the sharp, bitter flavor washed over his tongue, but he forced himself to swallow.

With a glance at the others, it seemed they weren’t overly enjoying their meal of the fresh-picked fruit either. The only one who was relishing the bitter meal was Garreth. The Yari had finished half of his large fruit and was still happily ripping out chunks with his bare hands. His foot tapped on the ground to the beat of the song Aaralyn had been humming earlier as he watched the waterfall flow into a small pond just beyond them.

Aaralyn had managed a few mouthfuls but looked just as displeased as Mirth. She looked between the bitter fruit and the waterfall as if the liquid could replace the distasteful food. Irfan had barely even eaten a bite and was just staring at the fruit, mentally battling himself. He scooped out a small chunk, grimacing at having to touch the sopping wet fruit-meat without utensils. He stared at it until he dropped it back into the shell.

“How’s the food, Rekka?” Mirth shouted to the Fire Asili, who was tucking into her crispy fruit, seemingly unphased.

Delicious.” Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, a devilish smile bloomed across her lips. “The fire got rid of the nasty taste.” She laughed, stuffing another chunk of fruit, which had darkened to a warmer pink similar to the colors currently streaking across the sky. She chewed the fruit-meat with gusto, mocking the three who had trouble keeping even tiny mouthfuls down. And they all knew she wouldn’t start a fire to cook the bitter flesh.

“Bitch,” Mirth muttered under his breath, tearing another chunk of pale pink fruit from the dark shell and popping it in his mouth. He barely chewed it, forcing himself to swallow the chunk whole.

Irfan had discarded his fruit, which Garreth picked up and began to eat after checking that Irfan wouldn’t eat it. Aaralyn was still trying to eat what she could, but her face looked greener by the second. It was then that her dark blue eyes lit up, and she abandoned her meal. A stream was nearby, and there was bound to be fish in it. The band of travelers had been too caught up in watching the delicate Fae gather fruit from the trees that it hadn’t occurred to them that they could have checked the river and pond for food.

Mirth was still tearing off small bits of the fruit, glaring at Rekka as he ate. The Fire Asili seemed happy to watch him suffer, but he was determined to not let her have the satisfaction of seeing him quit. He would eat the entire shell even if it took him until nightfall to do it.

The splash of water foretold that Aaralyn had found fish in the river and had sequentially caught one. It wasn’t long, and a small fire was burning, the fillets cooking on heated rocks. Irfan sat in front of them, staring hungrily at the fish while Aaralyn explored the river for any edible greens better than the bitter fruit. In the end, she returned to the fruit that she had discarded, Garreth surprisingly having not eaten it.

“Do you want some too?” The Water Asili asked Mirth, who was rolling a piece of fruit between his fingers, his hand sticky with its juices.

“No.”

“Well, if you do, don’t be afraid to ask. I can get you a fish with a flick of my wrist.” She tried to hide a giggle. She hadn’t laughed in days. She couldn’t help it. They finally had enough food to pack their stomachs tight and clean water to quench their thirst.  She giggled again and skipped back to the fire.

Mirth squeezed the hunk of fruit in his hand, the juices flowing from his fingers. Aaralyn’s laugh had lifted his spirits, but then they fell. He could still feel Rekka’s heated glare on his back. He ignored her gaze and watched the flames of Aaralyn’s fire dance in the growing darkness. The fire was so much brighter than the usual flames Rekka controlled. They were shades of orange and yellow, while Rekka’s were almost always dark red.

“So, when are we going to get to this Ring, Oṣó? Do you even know the way, or did you make it up so that we could all die with you?” Rekka stood over Mirth, tapping her foot as she stared at him.

“I know the way. My mother told me.” Mirth had finally abandoned the half-eaten fruit, but he was too nauseated from the overpowering bitterness to even look at the cooking fish. “It’s just…going to take a bit longer. When we see a weird-looking stone, then we’ll know we’re going the right way.” He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head on his knees, trying to keep his stomach contents.

The glint of Odysseus’s ruby, which hung over Mirth’s knees, caught Rekka’s eyes. “What does that stupid little ruby do? It can’t be anything good. I can’t believe you’re still wearing that cursed thing. Sooner than later, Odysseus is going to find you and very, very slowly kill you.”

“Shut up,” Mirth grumbled but didn’t lift his head.

“What? And let you suffer inside that little brooding mind of yours? No. I like seeing you squirm, Oṣó.” Her fingers just graced the scarlet gemstone, but it was enough for Mirth to feel it.

His head snapped up. “You’re just as bad as Irfan. Get out of my face, Rekka, and stop bothering me.” His voice was low in warning. He rubbed his stinging eyes, the ever-building anger making his already bloodshot eyes burn.

“What?” Rekka cooed. “Is the little Oṣó going to cry now? Is he scared of the powerful Fire Asili that keeps mocking him for his stupid decisions? Or is he going to cry because he’s going to be killed any day now by the Terror of the Wastes? Poor, poor Mirth.”

Mirth leaped to his feet. “Shut up! Just fucking shut up, Rekka! I don’t know anything about this necklace. I don’t know anything about Odysseus.” He thrusted a finger in a random direction. “If he’s tracking me, why hasn’t he shown up yet? It’s been almost half-a-moon, and I haven’t seen a glimpse of him.” He tangled his hands in his hair, not noticing that the others were now watching. “All I want to do is get to the Ring and escape all this fucking shit.”

When Mirth glared back at Rekka, she stared back at him. Her face had lost its color. A trickle of wetness ran down his cheek. His heart lurched, and he wiped a finger across his cheek, drawing it back to reveal scarlet liquid.

“No…” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

Rekka pointed an accusing finger at him. “You really are cursed!”

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bleeding-Curse in the Cold Night

“Mirth…”

Aaralyn’s horror-filled stare made the Oṣó’s heart clench. The same terror flashed in Rekka’s eyes before hate and disgust overtook it.

Aaralyn’s following words confirmed his fears. “You’re…bleeding.”

Mirth touched his fingers to the corner of his eye, drawing his fingers away to reveal more blood. Rekka’s laughter of disbelief filled his ears, but all he could do was numbly stare at his bloody fingers, body numb. He hadn’t wanted them to find out, at least, not like this. The group had already been walking on frayed nerves as it was. Bringing in his own personal issues was something he had not wanted. Rekka would be no help in the matter. Her motives so far were to get under his skin and taunt him whenever she could because she disliked him for nothing more than his race and getting involved in the journey. A journey she could easily stop or people she could easily separate from, but she stayed with the group and took enjoyment from mocking him. Now, it seemed her only motive was to make him more miserable.

The Fire Asili was currently doubled over with laughter. It took another moment before she could subside it to chuffed chuckles as she wiped away a tear or two that had leaked from the corner of her eyes. “I can’t believe I was right all this time. You really are cursed, Oṣó.” She gave another sharp laugh, shaking her head. “How’d you get it? Was it when you were playing in the big-bad graveyard swamp with Odysseus’s jewelry? Did that necklace cause you to spontaneously bleed just now? Or maybe it always has since you’ve been wearing that damned thing? Oh, or how about Odysseus cursed you himself?”

Rekka turned her gaze to the violet, star-studded dusk sky, a hand pushing back her black bangs. “Damn my life.” She seemed to want to say more, to spill everything that had happened to her during the past few moons, but she held back the words. “I’m not following anyone with a fucking curse on them, no matter how they got it. And I’m especially not following some cursed idiot who has the Terror of the Wastes on his tail.”

“Oṣó…Oṣó…Oṣó,” Irfan muttered, eyes locked on the bloody trail the tear left behind on Mirth’s face. “Sangaimu!”

Mirth’s gaze snapped to Irfan, resisting launching himself at Rekka and shouting that he couldn’t help that he bled. When Irfan’s dark-brown, almost black eyes lit up with recognition, Mirth’s heart dropped. “Irfan…Don’t.” But his voice was too quiet for the smaller boy, who was lost too deep in his thoughts, to hear.

Everyone watched and waited for Irfan as he muttered under his breath, pointing at invisible objects. Clips of words slipped from his mouth, just loud enough for his small audience to catch. No one dared to stop him, Rekka even going as far as to hover a hand over Mirth’s collar to stop him if he tried to lunge for the Rāhā. She would hear whatever Irfan knew about the Oṣó’s curse.

“You’re from that bloodline?” Irfan finally lifted his dark gaze from the ground, eyes locking with Mirth’s. “You’re from the bloodline of an Oṣó by the name of Peace. He had killed an entire temple of Sangaimu’s worshippers. Then Sangaimu, the Deity of Blood, cursed his lineage with the Bleeding-Curse.”

“Irfan…”

But the Rāhā had not heard Mirth’s plea, his own gaze drifting to the darkening sky as he rattled off more information, too enraptured in the curious discovery. “The Bleeding-Curse didn’t affect Peace directly, but it affected his children and their children. Even his first son, who had been born before he killed those of the temple, bore children with the curse. There was no way to cure it either, and many of his family died. If I remember right, many of the women with the curse miscarried and bled out more often than the men. I wonder—”

“Irfan! Shut up!” Mirth’s voice cracked. All he could do was take in the horrified faces of the people around him. Irfan had said too much.

Irfan stopped, staring at Mirth only for what he had done to dawn on him. He glanced at Rekka, who triumphantly grinned for having learned Mirth’s secret. Garreth stood some paces back, clinging onto Aaralyn, who too stared at Mirth with more confusion and worry than anything else. Irfan turned back to Mirth, his own heart falling when he saw the distraught look on his face. The Rāhā hadn’t considered that the curse he was talking about would have wanted to be kept hidden.

Rekka slowly approached Mirth, the sly grin still playing on her lips. “You should just let Odysseus kill you. Then maybe you can end your family’s cursed bloodline instead of passing it onto the next generation. Not that you would survive long enough to procreate, nor would any girl smart enough want to have kids with you seeing how tightly you cling to that cursed necklace. Maybe it would be best if we all left you in the Wastes so that we don’t have to deal with your terrible luck?”

Mirth stared back at her, the back of his eyes stinging with tears. He didn’t dare look at Aaralyn or Garreth. He couldn’t handle whatever horrified expressions were surely painted on their faces. “I can’t help that I was born with this. My mother couldn’t, nor could my grandfather. It’s all my great-grandfather’s fault. There’s no way it can be passed to another person unless they are related to me by blood on my maternal side.” Finally, he let his gaze fall onto the others. “There is nothing to fear about this curse.”

“But, there is something to fear about that necklace.” Rekka cut in. “So maybe your curse doesn’t mean much of anything. But you won’t let go of that ruby. And I have a feeling Odysseus would still chase after you if you got rid of it, wouldn’t he?”

Mirth sighed, saying nothing. His gaze cast to the dusty ground was enough evidence for the Fire Asili.

“You’re cursed in more than one way, Oṣó.” With that, Rekka walked away, head held high as she found a place to rest for the night, far away from Mirth and the others.

The young man didn’t even look at the other three travelers as he walked away. He didn’t feel welcome anymore. A mass of tangled roots that had been exposed to the air some time ago when the tree was halfway upturned beckoned Mirth. Settling within their woody grasp, he pulled his knees to his chest and stared numbly at the ground. For some days, it seemed his life was looking up since his mother’s death. But now, it was going downhill.

His hand throbbed.

A turmoil of emotions overtook him. The irritation Irfan’s clinginess created. The anger from Rekka’s constant berating and digging under his skin. But the loneliness he felt now overtook those other emotions. It was just like the night he had lost his mother and the day he left Terran. There was no one that he could go running to. No one to chase away the loneliness that was encroaching his heart.

Even if the fiasco that just happened hadn’t taken place, there was no telling how much longer the band of five travelers would have stayed together. Odysseus was still out there, and the Fä was out for his blood. Rekka was correct. Odysseus was out for more than the ruby currently hanging from his neck. There was no way to stop the Terror of the Wastes from hunting him.

“Mother…” Mirth clutched the emerald in his injured hand, wincing when the ruby below it brushed his skin. “Why did you have to die? If you hadn’t, then I wouldn’t be in this mess. You, Grandma, Grandpa, and I would be still walking in the Wastes, maybe a little closer to the Ring. But now…” He buried his face in his knees, trying to choke back a sob.

“And why does this stupid ruby hurt so much to wear? Why won’t this gash heal? Why do I even keep this stupid thing?” He grabbed for the red gemstone that rested just below the emerald, only to hiss in pain. His hand dropped, and he just stared at the star-dusted sky. “What would it matter, huh? That monster is still going to chase after me until I’m dead.”

Mirth prodded his freshly bandaged hand. He hadn’t noticed that he had been clenching it since the argument between him and Rekka had begun. Yet again, the white linen was tinged red. Rekka was spouting more nonsense to the others, sewing fear into their souls. In the end, he deemed that it wouldn’t pay to try and make them understand his words. If they were already falling for what she had to say, then there would be no way that he could convince them.

***

By the time the moon had risen in the sky, the conversation between the other three speaking members of the party had long since gone silent. Mirth still sat awake, fingering the emerald around his neck. Sometimes, his fingers graced the red gemstone below it, only to jerk away when he felt its burning warmth. Mirth’s head was full of too many thoughts tonight. But, it also seemed that the other’s heads were just as heavy. Aaralyn’s nightly lullaby had been forgotten. Mirth had been hoping to hear her sweet, melodic voice fill the air in hopes to will all the pain away and welcome some semblance of sleep.

“Mother…my heart hurts. It hurts so much.”

A wordless melody drifted on a chilly night wind. A petite form was settled on a rock separate from the group, glowing blue eyes staring up at the moon. The song was like a gentle-flowing river during the cusps of spring. Sweet, slow, and soothing to the soul. As Aaralyn sang, the soft blue glow of her eyes slowly faded until it was no more.

When Aaralyn caught Mirth staring, she sent him a strained smile. He looked away, unable to bear it. For a moment, he had let himself go, just listening to her voice. It seemed to take away all the pain and loneliness, even if it was only for a moment. But it was back, and there was nothing that could cure it. Even drowsiness had settled over him, but Mirth fought sleep. He didn’t want to witness the nightmares tonight. He didn’t want to wake up alone again.

“Mirth?”

The young man’s head snapped up, blinking away tears.

Aaralyn stood before him, hand clutching Garreth’s much larger hand. The Yari was currently rubbing sleep from his eyes, though it appeared that he would fall over at any moment.

The Water Asili shyly ran a hand through her short, dark brown hair, unable to meet Mirth’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Mirth. Garreth was so scared when Rekka started talking about Odysseus. He didn’t know about all the things that had happened to you. About your mother…and about the necklace. After Rekka had gone to sleep, I tried to explain everything to him. That you’re a good person and that you can’t help that Odysseus is after you.” She squeezed Garreth’s hand and lifted her dark blue gaze to Mrith’s russet eyes. “I’m sorry, Mirth. I didn’t want to leave you here all alone, but I couldn’t leave Garreth like that. But now, I can’t leave you alone like this.”

“Aaralyn…” Mirth didn’t know how to feel when the Water Asili seated herself beside him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He managed a teary smile. Even though a part of him wanted to push her away, say that she would be in danger if she welcomed him back into the group, the other part couldn’t help but embrace her presence. He wanted to hug her, but something was holding him back.

Garreth followed Aaralyn, a loud yawn stretching his mouth wide as he slouched beside her. Just as the Yari was about to lay down, Irfan stumbled through the darkness, hands clenched tight to his shirt. “I can’t sleep with her so close,” Irfan whispered, gripping his shirt tighter. “She’ll kill me.”

Irfan went to take a seat on the other side of Mirth, but the Oṣó sent him a half-hearted glare. Shuddering, the wingless Rāhā scuttled over and sat next to Garreth. He peered up at the much larger boy and flinched. Garreth patted his head. Irfan frowned but relaxed a little.

“Is Rekka coming?” Mirth mumbled, hoping the Fire Asili would stay by her spot next to the tree she had burned.

“I don’t think so,” Aaralyn answered, stretching out a thick blanket onto the ground before she curled up to sleep. “She’s too stubborn to move, and she has her fire to keep her warm. And I don’t think she wants to...”

“Yeah, I know that already. She hates me.” Mirth turned his gaze to the star-studded sky.

“It is cold out here…” Irfan shivered. He lay beside Garreth on the cold hard ground, having nothing to sleep on.

It was then that Garreth wrapped Irfan into his arms and cuddled the smaller boy close to his chest. He then rolled over to face Aaralyn, shielding her from any wind and close enough to provide body heat. Mirth smiled at them but was unwilling to get any closer to the trio. He couldn’t bring himself to cuddle with Aaralyn, even if she would deem it necessary to keep warm. He glanced at the stars again, Leap’s smile flashing across his mind.

“I’m sorry, Mirth. For what I said. I didn’t think Rekka would react like that. I’m sorry,” Irfan whispered from where he was squeezed to Garreth’s chest. “Please forgive me.”

“Don’t worry. You’re annoying, but I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way,” Mirth mumbled.

Aaralyn sang, her voice sweet and melodic like a babbling brook. It was a different melody than her usual lullaby. Whatever tension that remained between the four melted away, and they welcomed sleep’s embrace.

Rekka glared at the four from where she had laid down to sleep. It was true that her fire would keep her warm. With a scoff, she turned away. Who needed them? If they were going to curl up with the cursed Oṣó, then they were just asking to die. However, as Rekka stared up at the sliver of the moon, she did wish that her family was safe and well. She hoped to see them soon.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Three

Encroaching Darkness

Rekka woke with a start. Bolting upright, all she could see was sunlight peeking through the trees. Once her breathing and heart rate slowed to a more reasonable pace, the young woman climbed to her feet. Ruffling her mane of black hair, she looked over to where her other traveling companions still slept. Garreth had rolled some paces away from the group, snoring loudly. Irfan and Aaralyn were snuggled in each other’s arms without a care in the world, oblivious to each other’s closeness. Mirth was still peacefully sleeping under the roots, having not moved much throughout the night.

Rolling her neck, which released a satisfying crack, Rekka turned to the remains of last night’s meal. The dark maroon shells of the fruit from the tree she had burned did not raise the usual hunger she felt in the mornings. Maybe it was because of the impending dread settling in the pit of her stomach or the anxiety that prickled across her skin.

Nonetheless, she stretched her arms over her head before twisting her back with a crack. She strode through the small forest in hopes to either shake off the unnerving feeling or find the source of it. To her frustration, the dread grew almost suffocating. It took some effort as she gasped for a deep, lungful of air to calm her racing heart and weak limbs.

“What’s going on with me?” Rekka swiped a hand across her already sweat-slick forehead as she gazed across the wasteland.

In the distance, a dark silhouette stood out against the earthy orange-brown stones of the barren land. Rekka stared, unable to make out what or who the figure was. To her annoyance and worry, a cold sweat broke across her back. There was something wrong, but she continued to watch the figure for some time, even as her anxiety grew. They appeared as human as she was, with no wings, no tail, no horns. When they drew even closer, the man didn’t even have odd colored skin or colorful markings. He looked almost like a Meek. She did find it strange that he wore no shirt nor shoes, and his pants were tattered beyond repair.

Rekka was about to turn away and leave the man to continue his journey alone, but he was walking in her direction. Swearing under her breath, she summoned a flame to her hand, ready to chase off the traveler. The others may welcome another person into their group, but there was no way she would have another mouth to feed.

Just as Rekka was about to step out from her cover behind a thick-trunked tree, she noticed something about the man. Eyes like fire-itself and a near-healed wound in the center of his chest. Muscle bound body that matched Garreth in height, covered in rich golden skin. A mane of inky-black hair wilder than hers.

“Odysseus.” Rekka slunk back into the trees, a hand clamped over her mouth as she finally connected the pieces. “I knew it. I knew it. He’s found us! I should have never followed the stupid Oṣó. I’m so stupid.” Instead of watching the Fä approach, she should have warned the others. Now, they only had minutes to wake and run for their lives.

Rekka was beside the slumbering forms of the rest of her party, her bag slung over her shoulders while she held the others’ packs in her arms. She kicked Mirth’s back before shaking Irfan and Aaralyn awake. “Get up! Now! We need to go.”

“W-what? Why?” Aaralyn asked with a yawn, unphased that she had been tangled up with Irfan’s limbs. Irfan, on the other hand, was too tongue-tied when he recognized that he had been cuddling with the Water Asili.

“Odysseus found us.”

“What?” It was Mirth’s terrified voice. He was rubbing his back where Rekka had jabbed her foot.

Rekka turned to him, teeth bared. “This is what we get for following someone on the Terror’s kill list. I should have just let you sleep. Then, we wouldn’t have had to worry about him following us.” Nonetheless, she handed Aaralyn and Irfan their packs.

“Run!” Mirth shouted, spotting movement between the trees.

Everyone ran, but Mirth wasn’t quick enough. Black flames ignited around him. A roaring wall of heat encircled him, keeping him from running with the rest of the party. He couldn’t even see them through the mass of suffocating flames. He couldn’t tell if they were staring at him in horror, ready to leap in to rescue him, or running for their lives, not even a thought crossing their minds that they should try to save him.

Then, a hand reached into the flames, grasping the back of Mirth’s neck and dragging him out of the fire. He was tossed to the ground before a barefoot was planted on his chest. Mirth grabbed Odysseus’s leg, digging his fingernails into the man’s skin.

Odysseus chuckled, leaning more weight into Mirth’s chest. “I see you’ve made some new friends, child of Hubris.” His voice was as rich as honey, and a sickly-sweet smile graced his handsomely roguish features. The ever-burning inferno in his irises glowed brighter as he crouched over Mirth. “Quite an interesting group you’ve befriended. A Fire Asili, a Water Asili, a Yari, and a…Rāhā. And all of them ran for their lives without looking back. Smart. Better for them to keep their own lives than getting in the way of my prey.”

The Fä flexed his fingers, a black flame lapping around them gracefully as if they didn’t have the power to burn the forest behind them to the ground until there was nothing more than ash. A swipe of his tongue over his lips revealed still-sharp teeth. “I see you still have Skyrah’s ruby. She was one of the most beautiful of my lovers. Skin the color of a cloudless blue sky, eyes the color of the ruby that hangs around your neck. Elegant curling horns, a deadly spaded tail, and massive wings to match. She was just as deadly as she was beautiful. She was one of many Yari lovers I took, and she bore me several children.”

Odysseus squeezed his hand into a fist, the flames wrapping around his knuckles. “Then your father killed her and all her children. He killed many more of my children, including some of my favorites who possessed so much potential. And then…Hubris disappeared without a trace. Unable to kill him myself, I thought…” His blazing eyes locked with Mirth’s. “Why not kill his son?”  

Before Mirth could blink, Odysseus drove his flaming fist downward, but in a similar eerie sensation as half-a-moon ago, there was no pain, just an unbearable heat. Mirth cracked open his eyes, a teal shield of solid magic hovering only an inch above his body. The emerald necklace was warm against his chest. The rune carved into its glittering green surface caught the rising sun’s light.

“Ah, yes. The emerald.”

Odysseus pressed the heel of his palm into the shield. It waved as sweat gathered on Mirth’s forehead. More pressure and cracks spider-webbed across the shield. A moment more, Mirth couldn’t hold it any longer, even with the help of the necklace, and the magic around him dissipated.

Satisfied, Odysseus lifted the green crystal from Mirth’s neck, rubbing his thumb over the rune. He snapped the chain from Mirth’s neck and held the green gemstone in the dawn’s light. Once more, his fiery eyes shifted to Mirth. His hand clenched around the pendent, muscles bulging in his arm as the crack of stone rang through Mirth’s ears. Crystal grounded on crystal as the Terror of the Wastes worked his hand.

“Let’s see how well you can defend yourself without your father’s trinket.” Odysseus opened his hand, glittering green dust falling to the ground.

Out of fear, Mirth clenched Odysseus’s leg harder, a flare of magic forming claws on his fingertips and spikes on his palms. The magic dug deep into the man’s flesh. Blood oozed from the wounds, but Odysseus stared into the distance, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips. The rest of the Oṣó’s rag-tag group of travelers had stopped some paces from them, staring in horror.

“You know, spawn of Hubris.” Odysseus raised his voice so the others could hear him as he dug his heel deeper into Mirth’s chest. “That little Water Asili is rather cute. I haven’t taken a woman for almost eight moons…And I sense something special about her.” He locked eyes with Mirth, licking his lips.

Mirth paled, magic claws digging deeper into Odysseus’s leg. “No…” his voice was barely a whisper.

“I would.” The Fä raised his hand as it slowly darkened, fingernails lengthening into wicked-sharp claws. Flickering black flames engulfed his tar-black hand before it drove down for Mirth’s chest.

Mirth didn’t even blink as a shield formed again. Odysseus’s claws embedded into the solid magic. Cracks spread through the translucent teal surface. Without the emerald, it was weak. Before the shield could shatter, the Terror of the Wastes was knocked off Mirth.

Odysseus had fallen a foot away from Mirth, knocked off balance by surprise. The man snarled, darker hand grasping his shoulder and neck where the skin was blistering. A dark red orb lay beside him, red flames roaring off it.

“Of course. I thought the little ember would have left you by now.” Odysseus pulled himself to his feet, rubbing the burned flesh. “It seems she’s attached to you. Why? I couldn’t fathom. I’m after your life.” He chuckled, rubbing his dark stubbled jaw as he stared down Rekka.

Rekka gritted her teeth as she stood before him, willing her flames to glow a brilliant orange. Mirth had climbed to his feet, the rest of his shield melting away. He watched in horror as Odysseus slowly approached Rekka.

“Fire and fire wouldn’t make much, would it?” Odysseus grabbed the back of Rekka’s neck, claws digging deep. With his unchanged hand, he trailed a finger across her cheek before tracing her lips. “Though, you are a delectable treat for the eyes, little ember. Maybe—”

Odysseus’s next words caught in the back of his throat, Rekka’s knee jammed into his groin. Her raging orange fire engulfed his hulking form, and she ripped away from his grip. Before she could even turn to reach the rest of the group, Odysseus wrapped a burning arm around her middle, orange flames turning black.

“The feistier, the better.”

Before the Fä could do anything else, he gave a pained grunt. His arm slipped away from Rekka as his dark flames died. Mirth stood behind him, an intense glowing blade clutched in his hand, the tip embedded in Odysseus’s back.

“I should be trying harder. These two are actually fighting to live.” He laughed, spinning around and grabbing the blade even as it dug into his flesh and scorched his skin. It disappeared from his hands before he could pull Mirth to him. Then, pain exploded in the back of his skull, and he slumped to the ground, eyes rolled in the back of his head.

Mirth and Rekka stared at the fallen Fä, Odysseus’s limbs twitching as gargled gasps rattled his lungs. The pair then raised their gob-smacked gazes to Garreth. The Yari dropped the large stone he had smashed onto Odysseus’s head, slowly backing away as he waved his hands in front of him. Tears already gathered in his eyes, and a whimper sounded from his throat. He had split open the Fä’s skull, blood pooling around his head.

“Come on!” Rekka shot past them, ignoring the burns she had suffered from Odysseus’s black flames.

Mirth was still frozen in place, staring at Odysseus’s twitching fingers. But when his inferno-filled eyes moved, locking on him, he ran. Passing Garreth, Mirth turned around and pulled the Yari with him. “Move! Garreth, move! He’s not dead!”

Those words thawed Garreth’s frozen feet, and he charged with Mirth. Once the group was together, they kept running, leaving the Terror of the Wastes bleeding and half-conscious.

***

They had run for most of the day, no one willing to stop until they had dropped to the ground, unable to move another inch. It took some time for the group to recollect themselves.

“At least that gave us some more time to get away from him,” Mirth muttered, head resting between his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“Like that’ll stop him for long.” Rekka was crouched on the ground, her breath ragged. “He’s not going to leave us alone until you’re dead.”

Mirth stayed quiet until he looked up, his shoulders slumping in relief. “We’re going the right way.” He pushed himself to his feet, leaning against a nearby rock so he could stare at the strange stone monolith in the distance. It was sleek and black, unlike the rest of the orange and brown sandstone around it. It was as if the deities had thrusted a massive spearhead from the sky.

“If this exists…” his legs gave out from under him, unable to contain the laugh of disbelief. “It has to…. The Ring has to exist. Mother…” Mirth looked up at the sky, tears shining in his eyes. He went to grasp the emerald, but his hand only met a heated red ruby. 

“Right…” He thumbed the red gemstone, ignoring the dull pain in his palm. He looked up at the rest of the group that was staring back at him. “We’re going the right way. After this monolith, we just have to pass a volcanic mountain range, and then we should be by the Ring. We’re almost there. We’re almost there.” He laughed, wiping away a stray tear.

Everything was surreal. From that morning, when they were attacked by Odysseus, to Garreth knocking the Terror of the Wastes unconscious, to them running for the rest of the day, and now finding the monolith, evidence that Bénipryroda’s Ring existed. However, the other four members just stared back at him, different, bitter emotions coursing through them.

It was a long moment before Aaralyn dragged herself to her feet, hand in hand with Garreth. She had been talking to him in a hushed voice since they began running. He had been distraught since crushing the Fä’s skull. As always, waves of anger rolled off Rekka, but she wasn’t looking at Mirth. Irfan just stared at the stone in defeat, shoulders slumped as if he couldn’t take any more traveling.

“Please, we have to keep moving. It can’t be more than a few day’s travel. Think about your families. Think about the life you’ll live.”

“That’s not going to stop Odysseus,” Rekka mumbled, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Still, she shifted her backpack and walked up to Mirth. “Lead the way, stupid Oṣó.”

Aaralyn joined Rekka, giving Mirth a weary smile as she held Garreth’s hand. The Yari didn’t look at Mirth, lost somewhere in the recesses of his mind. Irfan joined last, stumbling on unsteady legs. He didn’t look any better than the traumatized Garreth.

“We’ll find shelter and food tonight. Just a little more. Then we can rest.” It seemed Mirth was the only one that’s vigor was renewed.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Four

Abandoned in Ashes

Five days had passed, and the band of five travelers were still traversing the barren land. Any emotions that had been lifted when they found the monolith had wilted with each counting day until there was nothing but rotting hope. The only change was in the environment. Plants began dying again, and whatever water they did find smelled strange and tasted sour. Luckily, none of them had fallen ill from the water, thanks to Aaralyn.

A day or so ago, the sky had turned grey, but it wasn’t an ever-lasting thundercloud that hung over their heads. It was ash. Tons upon tons of ash filled the atmosphere, flakes falling from the sky. The group had finally reached the volcanic mountain range, but Mirth was the only one that was joyful at the sight. The others slugged through their exhaustion to follow him, questions of the paradise’s existence clouding their minds.

As always, Mirth led the head of the group as they climbed a crumbling slope. He pushed forward, clambering over large boulders and slipping through loose gravel. His energy knew no bounds at this moment as the voice of his mother encouraged him. “Through the volcanic mountain range,” he muttered under his breath, almost to the hillside’s crest. He paused, just a few bounds from seeing what lay over it.

Even though his lungs burned from the fumes of the volcano and ash drifted from the sky like false snow, it seemed nothing could quell his spirits. Mirth ran a hand through his long, dark brown hair, brushing away crumbles of ash, smearing it across his hand. Finally, he turned to the rest of the travelers.

Rekka led them, glaring at Mirth, ash clinging to her dark clothing and black hair. Aaralyn and Garreth followed close behind her, while Irfan was slung onto the Yari’s shoulders. The Rāhā wasn’t used to so much traveling uphill, and the ash was making it too difficult for him to breathe. Among the four of them, they were all tired, thirsty, hungry, and frustrated. Overall, they were fed up, and the seeds of doubt about the journey’s destination had long since sprouted.

“Come on!” Mirth encouraged with a sweep of his hand. “The Ring could be just over this hill. Think about seeing your families again and being able to live in a peaceful place where you don’t have to worry about food, fresh water, or fighting over anything.”

His words were what Garreth and Aaralyn needed to push forward, but Rekka’s eyes narrowed. With rock crumbling away from their feet, it took some effort before they all reached the top. There, they stood at the crest of the hill, staring down into a barren ravine—no trees, no water, just earth covered in a thick layer of ash.

“This is your Ring?” Rekka hissed, her eyes blazing with fury. “This is your fucking Ring, Oṣó?” The air around them crackled with heat as her anger grew hotter and hotter. “I’m done with this. I’d prefer to wander the Wastes rather than risk my life traveling with a cursed idiot with the Terror chasing after him. I can’t believe I ever thought this place existed.”

“Rekka! You can’t! We’re almost there! I promise you.” Mirth caught her wrist.

“Your promises are empty!” Rekka whirled on Mirth. “It’s been days since we saw that weird-looking rock. Where’s the wonderful paradise, huh? It’s not down there. Or did a Shift destroy it too, just like everything else?” She raised a fist, prepared to punch Mirth in the jaw if he didn’t let go of her wrist. However, she didn’t need to do anything as her skin heated to an impossible degree, forcing him to release her.

“We only just found the volcanoes a day ago, Rekka.” Mirth rubbed his scorched hand. “We still need to go around them until we find the Ring. I just thought,…maybe this would have been a shortcut to it. I’m tired, just like all of you. But I promise, give it a few more days, and we’ll be in the Ring. It’s real. Just think about all the good things that’ll be there once we find it. Just a few more days of walking. I promise you; it’ll be worth it in the end.” His gaze traveled over the rest of the travelers, searching for a glimpse of hope in their eyes. He wanted them to hope for the same thing he did. But when the ash-streaked faces and disheartened eyes stared back at him, his heart sank. Had his mother’s will to find the paradise really led them to their deaths instead?

“I don’t care anymore, Oṣó.” Rekka snapped, drawing Mirth’s attention back to her. “I’m sick of this journey. I’m sick of traveling with you. I’m sick of everything. I just want to see my family again, but I never will. There’s no way I’ll find them out here or survive long enough to see them. We’ll die like everyone else.”

Rekka looked away, arms wrapped around her and fingers digging deep into her skin. Swearing under her breath, she squeezed her eyes shut. “I just wish…” she shook her head, unwilling the say anymore in front of the band of four. The Fire Asili sent all of them a heated glare before her eyes settled back onto Mirth. “I don’t want to die any sooner because of you.”

Mirth ignored the comment, having gotten somewhat used to Rekka’s insulting jabs towards his connection with Odysseus and the ruby. “Then how did the five of us survive this far if so many other, stronger people have died before us?”

“By sheer luck and having a skilled Water Asili. The water-lover can draw water from the damp earth and make that nasty smelling water clean enough to drink. We don’t have to worry about drinking anything toxic or getting sick from parasites. Though, I’m still surprised we’ve lasted as long as we have.” She sent a sharp glare in Irfan and Garreth’s direction.

Rekka turned away and slid down the rocky slope without another word. When she reached the bottom, she looked up at Mirth. “I’m done following you. This Ring doesn’t exist. You’re just as stupid as your mother was for believing in it. It doesn’t exist, and we are just going to die looking for it just like everyone else if we keep following you. If your mother hadn’t believed in it, she would still be alive. But she was stupid, wasn’t she?”

“My mother wasn’t stupid!” Mirth scrambled down the rocky slope to stand in front of Rekka. He didn’t know whether to gawk at her in disbelief or tackle her to the ground in anger. “My mother believed in the Ring so that she could have a better life with her parents and me. She could have gone with the rest of our family and friends, but she decided to search for Bénipryroda’s Ring since it was a place that would be safe from Shifts, and we’d have plenty of food and water. I’d be lying if I sometimes wished she had gone with the rest of them, but then I would have never met any of you.”

Rekka snorted. “If I hadn’t met you, then I would still be with my family.”

“You’d be dead because Odysseus would have found you in his graveyard!” Mirth shouted back, the anger boiling to the surface.

“He wouldn’t have even noticed me. It’s not like I’m the idiot who took a freaking necklace from one of his dead lovers!”

Mirth scoffed, a hand tangled in his hair. “Fine. Die in the Wastes for all I care. You’re just the bitch that never cared for anyone but herself. I’ll be happily living with my grandparents in Bénipryroda’s Ring.”

“You think I don’t care about your stupid life, Oṣó?” Fire finally engulfed Rekka’s arm. “I hate all of you, but…” She snarled, fire growing. “Damn it! If it wasn’t for your stupid mistake, your mother would still be alive. If you hadn’t stolen that necklace. If you hadn’t gone into the Terror’s graveyard, none of us would be in this mess. Your stupid cursed Oṣó mother would still be alive, and I wouldn’t have to stare at your stupid face every minute I’m awake!”

The moment Rekka said those words, her face fell. The hurt on Mirth’s face twisted her insides, even if she would never admit it. What she didn’t expect was for the Oṣó to slam her to the ground with a snarl almost as fierce as one of her own. They rolled in a tangle of limbs for a moment until they stopped, Mirth on top of her.

“Bitch! You’re a fucking bitch. How dare you insult my mother. If it wasn’t for her, you’d be dead!”

“If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be in this mess! I wouldn’t have the Terror of the Wastes on my ass!” Rekka squeezed Mirth’s wrist and twisted out of his grasp. In a blink of an eye, she was the one on top, pinning Mirth’s arms to the ground, her heated skin burning his.

“Stop talking about the same damn thing. Is that the only thing you care about? I know I stole the necklace from Odysseus. I know it was stupid, but you’re the one that challenged me to do it. I can’t help it that I wanted to impress an attractive girl. And I know that Odysseus will be chasing me forever, but he would be chasing me even if I hadn’t stolen the necklace. He has a grudge against my father because he killed Odysseus’s children. And I know that I’m cursed and that my great-grandfather was as stupid as I am. But I know Bénipryroda’s Ring exists.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Rekka squeezed Mirth’s wrists tighter. He hissed in pain, her skin burning his. “I already figured out that you were cursed and that Odysseus wants you for more than just the necklace.” She leaned in closer. “And I would never court a scrawny-assed Oṣó like you. I’m not getting kicked out of my family like my brother.” The Fire Asili climbed off Mirth and turned away.

The young man rubbed his burned wrists, glaring at Rekka’s retreating form. “What’s so wrong with other races mixing?”

Rekka rolled her eyes and turned to face him. “Do you want an ugly mixed-blood running around?” Her eyes darted to Aaralyn. “Of course, you want your little water-lover, don’t you? And don’t you dare deny it, I’ve seen the way you look at each other.” Rekka gave a sharp laugh. “You two could live a sappy life just with each other, Odysseus constantly hunting you down until he kills you. Then Odysseus will make little Aaralyn his next lover and impregnate her with his spawn.”

Aaralyn’s eyes grew wide at Rekka’s words. Everyone had heard what Odysseus had proclaimed when he had Mirth pinned to the ground. The Water Asili clung to Garreth’s arm, the Yari having wrapped her in a hug, his eyes filled with fear and anger.

“I…” Mirth swallowed hard, glancing at Aaralyn, then back to Rekka. The words were caught in the back of his throat, and he couldn’t make more than a sound.

“Whatever. I’m leaving. Feel free to follow.” Rekka looked over her shoulder, a sly smile playing on her lips as she stared at Aaralyn. “Odysseus is still alive. It’s either the Terror of the Wastes or Mirth. Choose one. If Mirth dies…you know what Odysseus will do.”

Aaralyn squeezed her eyes shut. Images of the terrifying man flashed in her mind. She had never seen Odysseus until only half-a-moon ago, and he wasn’t even in his true form. But from the stories she had heard, she couldn’t imagine the monstrosity. And to have him…

The Water Asili looked up at Mirth, fearful tears shining in her eyes. “Mirth…I’m sorry.” And then she turned around and followed Rekka. Garreth was only steps behind her. Irfan, still draped over Garreth’s shoulder, stared back at Mirth. Swallowing hard, he mouthed, ‘I’m sorry.’

Mirth watched them in disbelief, but he couldn’t blame them. Not entirely.  If he had been in the same situation, he might have made the same decisions to save his life. Still…

The young man grasped for the emerald but met the ruby instead. He stared at the red gemstone that twinkled back at him menacingly.

Mirth was all alone. Again.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sorrow Forsaken

Mirth stood on the steep hill’s crest, barely able to catch the passing forms of Rekka, Aaralyn, and Garreth with Irfan draped over his shoulders. None of them looked back. Not even once. The young man watched them until he couldn’t see them anymore. His legs gave out from beneath him, the loose stones digging into his shins and palms as he tried to hold back a shuddering gasp.

“Why? Why does this seem to always happen to me?” The exhale trembled from his lips as he choked back the tears. He had cried too much and didn’t want another tear rolling down his cheeks until he was within the Ring, tears of happiness wetting his lashes when he was reunited with his grandparents. Then, he could cry. But now, Mirth refused to look weak before whatever invisible entity watched over him. But the emotions weighed so heavy on his heart. He tried to stop the turmoil and the repeated mental beating of why he always seemed to end up alone. Mirth wanted to quiet his mind, just once, so no more tears would fall. However, the pain kept growing, the fear of the future nourishing the anguish until the thorny vines were strangling his heart. Mirth dug his hands into the rocks but couldn’t keep the tears from falling.

Gasping for breath, he looked up to the ash-laden sky. “Which one of you hates me this much? Sangaimu? Are you the one that is cursing me with all this because of what my great-grandfather did? I’m sorry, but I’m not Peace. I promise you I’m not like him. My mother wasn’t like him either. Not even my grandfather, and he was the fourth son of Peace. Why haven’t you lifted the curse yet? Why do you keep making all this terrible stuff happen to me?”

Even as Mirth asked his questions, he knew, deep down, that the Deity of Blood had done nothing. He so terribly wanted it to be some malevolent deity that had decided to make him their next piece in their terrible game, but the chosen were always marked by one of their Rāhā worshippers. It had been a fragment of information that had slipped his mind until now. His grandfather had mentioned Rāhā one time or another. They were what deities worked through to interact with the living realms. If a deity chose someone to toy with, whether good or bad, that person had to be marked by a deity’s Rāhā.

Yes, Mirth spontaneously bled, but that curse was of the bloodline. He, himself, never had a Rāhā lay their hands upon him. He bore no strange marks, and his family never told him any peculiar stories of a winged person. But there was always a chance of brushing into one that could have started the entire catastrophe.

Mirth desperately wanted to comb his memory of the last three moons in search of any stranger that he could have bumped into without a thought. But it was no use. There would be no way he could remember everyone he had encountered, and he knew that no deity was involved in his loneliness or the death of his mother. Not Sangaimu, not a deity hungry for a heart-wrenching game. It was just how the strings of fate had been pulled. If one thing hadn’t happened, if another thing had, maybe he would still be walking with the rest of his party, maybe his mother would still be alive, or perhaps he would be dead.

“Mother?” Mirth’s voice cracked. “What should I do? I’m all alone again.”

When only a gust of wind answered, ash whirling in its wake, Mirth let his head fall. “I’m sick of all this.” He wiped the back of his hand across his wet eyes. “Why does this keep happening? Bad luck follows me everywhere.” He grabbed Odysseus’s ruby. “Maybe I should start cursing my dad. He was the one that started this whole thing. If he hadn’t killed Odysseus’s kids, then maybe I wouldn’t have the Terror of the Wastes chasing me everywhere, and maybe the others wouldn’t have left me.”

The young man dropped the necklace and stared at the smoking volcanoes. “Can I really blame anyone or any deity? I don’t even know if I can blame myself, other than for doing nothing.” Mirth pulled his knees to his chest, still gazing at where his companions had disappeared.

“No one’s going to want to be around me if I always have Odysseus trying to kill me. What if they kick me out of the Ring? Then what would I do? If I can’t live in the Ring…” Mirth swallowed back the rising fear. “I could…I could just let him kill me. Then it would end everyone’s suffering. I could see you again, Mother.”

A flash of dark blue eyes flickered across his mind. He didn’t know if they belonged to Aaralyn or Leap, but they made his heart ache.

“I do want to see Leap again. She would be disappointed to know that I just laid down and let Odysseus kill me, wouldn’t she? Well, Mother wouldn’t like that either. But I don’t know if I can keep living like this.”

Those blue eyes flickered in his mind, followed by the image of Odysseus swiping his tongue over his sharp teeth.

“Aaralyn…” Mirth’s heart dropped to his stomach, and a sickening chill ran across his skin. “I can’t let him!”

He was on his feet, a surge of panic overtaking his entire being. “I can’t let Odysseus...” Mirth squeezed his eyes shut, terrifying images flashing through his mind, mingled with Aaralyn’s screams and Odysseus’s dark laughter. Then, there was the cry of an infant. Aaralyn cradled it, tears streaking her face. The babe stared up at its mother with dark blue eyes flecked with burning embers. Its form changed. The infant’s skin blackened and thickened to the consistency of volcanic glass, and from its widening maw ripped an inhuman shriek. The transformed newborn lunged for its mother’s throat, and blood sprayed.

“No! Stop! Stop thinking that!” Mirth grabbed fistfuls of hair, falling back to his knees. “That-that would never happen. Odysseus wouldn’t…” But Mirth couldn’t complete the words. The image of the Fä leering at Aaralyn flashed in his mind once more.

The young man stayed on his knees, hands tangled in his dark brown hair. Ash fell from the sky, coating his hair in pale grey flakes. “If I die… If I let him kill me… What if. What if…” He raked the ash from his hair, smearing streaks of it across his cheek and hands. “I can’t let any of this happen.”

Mirth climbed to his feet, a new determination shining in his eyes. “I have to do something about the Terror of the Wastes.”

The young man paced the length of the hillside’s crest, staring into the distance as he tried to rack his brain for anything that could stop the Fä. At this moment, he wished he had spent more time with Terran and learned everything he could about Fä. The elderly man had mentioned ways to kill a Fä, but Mirth had been too distraught about his mother’s death to listen. 

“I guess, even if I knew how to kill one, I wouldn’t have the ability to do it.” Mirth clenched his fist, shaping a blade of teal magic in his hand. He carefully swept it through the air, a frown creasing his features. “All I could do is cut and stab him, just like Mother did.”

He arched the blade into the air, though his gaze drifted to where the rest of his party had disappeared. “Even if I can get any of them back…I don’t know if they would be any use against a Fä. Fire… Water… Strength… constructs… Smarts…” Mirth let the blade vanish and stared at the half-healed wound marring his palm. He pressed his fingers into it, and the familiar throb returned.

“Does Aaralyn have enough skill to draw all the water out of Odysseus’s body? Would that even kill him? Rekka’s fire can’t burn hot enough to burn Odysseus. Garreth and Irfan can’t or will refuse to fight, and I don’t think I could make Garreth do what he did last time.” Mirth pressed his fingers deeper into the wound, Garreth’s terrified face reflecting in his mind when he had bashed in Odysseus’s skull.

Mirth gazed at the smoke-spewing mountains. “Maybe we could push him into a volcano?” He dismissed the idea immediately. He didn’t even know if that would kill the Fä, seeing as he took the form of something akin to a sentient volcano. Besides, fighting on the edge of a volcano would be life-risking for anyone.

“If we can’t kill him…maybe we could imprison him…” Mirth stumbled through the loose rocks until he reached the bottom of the hill. He scraped a foot through the thick layer of ash as if he wanted to draw something. “We don’t have a lot of magic on our sides like other people, but if we plan it out just right. Maybe this could work.”

He walked in the opposite direction of where his former traveling companions had gone. Right now, he was in search of anything that could be used. Approaching one of the mountainsides, Mirth made out a twisting cave system. He slipped inside, following the sound of flowing water. It was some time when he reached another opening, staring out at a deep pool of water and where a massive rock was precariously perched on the ledge he had just emerged from.

“Water defeats fire as long as the fire isn’t too hot… drowning kills people, and I’m sure it would take a toll on Odysseus if he was forever drowning. Knock some of those loose rocks on him along with this massive boulder…or if there’s an underwater cave down there that we could trap him in…”

Mirth ran his hands through his hair. “This could maybe work. If we do everything right and if we can just get him in the water and either crush him with the boulder or bury him…” Mirth gazed at the scene before him for a moment longer before turning away and traversing the extensive cave system. “I need to find the others. I can’t do this alone.”

This time, he popped out closer to where his wayward companions had disappeared. To his horror, lava fields covered the entire area. Blistering hot molten rock flowed down hillsides and bubbled from the surface. “They’re not going to survive this.”

With Rekka’s hot temper and the other issues within the group… Mirth had to help them. He wouldn’t live with himself if any of them got hurt.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Six

Rescued from Fire

Aaralyn walked some paces behind Rekka, not bothering to wick the tears from her cheeks. She hadn’t wanted to leave Mirth. It tore into her heart when she saw the broken, betrayed look on his face when she followed Rekka. However, just the thought of Odysseus had her shaking in fear.

Garreth clamped a hand onto Aaralyn’s shoulder, his worried gaze cast down on her as they walked. With a sniffle, Aaralyn looked up at him, managing a tearful, unconvincing smile. She squeezed his fingers, trying to blink away the tears only for them to roll down her cheeks. Garreth carefully wiped one away with his thumb.

“I’ll be okay, Garreth.”

Aaralyn’s words meant nothing, and the Yari stopped her. He shook his head and looked over his shoulder in the direction they had come from. Having been placed on the ground sometime after they had parted ways with Mirth, Irfan slipped past them so he could keep following Rekka.

“No, Garreth. We should keep following Rekka. It’s dangerous, but we’ll cut through the volcanic pass and maybe find a better place to live. She…she was right about Mirth. I wish we could travel together, but with Odysseus always following him... Oh, I desperately want the Ring to be a real thing. Maybe we can convince Rekka to keep traveling in its direction. If we don’t find it, then we’ll settle down in the next best place we find. Does that sound good, Garreth?” Aaralyn sniffled again, trying to give the Yari a bright smile.

Garreth whimpered, slowly shaking his head. He kept shaking his head as if to say, ‘I don’t know.’ He was just as confused about the situation as Aaralyn was. In the end, they continued to follow Rekka over a half-crumbling stone bridge that overlooked a bubbling pool of molten rock several feet below them.

It wasn’t long before the Yari and Water Asili pair were far behind Rekka and Irfan. Their steps were deliberately slow as they reconsidered their decision to abandon Mirth. With each step they took deeper into the lava field, the further they were from Mirth, and the harder it would be to turn back.

“I don’t like this place,” Aaralyn muttered, a small hand finding Garreth’s as she stared into the glowing molten rock below. “I shouldn’t have followed Rekka here. Fire Asili like this stuff but Water Asili…” She let out a shaky breath. Each step was near dragging, not only from the worry for Mirth but also for her fear of fire and heat. Instincts told her to run away from the liquid fire below, but at the same time, she felt forced to follow Rekka.

“Garreth, I’m scared. I want to go back to the oasis where I found Mirth.”

A sad whimper made her look up. Hurt reflected in Garreth’s dark eyes.

“Oh, I don’t mean that I never wanted to meet you. I would have loved if you could have been there with us in the oasis, that is, if your parents hadn’t been…” Aaralyn turned away. She looked up, noticing that Rekka and Irfan were getting farther and farther away. Swallowing down her fear and sorrow that she could, and with the help of Garreth, the pair pushed forward on the narrow, unstable rock bridge.

“I don’t like this.” Aaralyn squeezed Garreth’s hand, sweat breaking out across her forehead and dripping from her dark hair. All she could do was stare at the flowing lava below them. It didn’t help that, each time she looked up, Rekka and Irfan were further and further away. “Maybe we should turn back.”

Just as she said this, Garreth grunted, and in one swift movement, pulled her into his chest. The pillar of dark stone that had been supporting the part of the rock bridge Aaralyn had been standing on crumbled. She stared in horror at the gaping hole where she had been standing. If Garreth hadn’t noticed, she would have fallen into the lava below. Now, they couldn’t cross.

Still clinging to Garreth, Aaralyn shouted to Rekka and Irfan, but her voice didn’t carry far enough. The other two travelers hadn’t even heard the rocks crumble away.

Garreth heaved the small woman into his arms and turned to retreat the way they had come, but the stone gave way the moment he put his weight on it. He stepped back with a gasp of surprise and watched the stone melt into the lava. They turned around and glanced every-which-direction for a way off the small slab of rock. He whimpered, eyes finding Aaralyn’s for reassurance. She could only stare back, tears in her eyes.

They were stranded.

With a shaky breath, Aaralyn slipped from the Yari’s arms. She cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting Rekka and Irfan’s names. With each shout, her voice grew more and more desperate. “Rekka! Irfan! Stop! We’re stuck! Help! We’re stuck!”

When her voice became hoarse, and she could no longer shout, Aaralyn turned to the teenager behind her. “Garreth…” she whimpered. She buried her face into the Yari’s stomach. “I don’t want to die. Not like this.”

He grunted, wrapping the Water Asili in a tight hug while watching the lava flow below them. An ominous crack sounded beneath them. Garreth squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the fall.

***

Irfan followed a few paces behind Rekka, nervously clutching the hem of his silken shirt as he watched the molten rock below them. He bumped into Rekka’s back when she stopped walking. Cowering away from her heated glare, he watched as she leaped across a gap in the stone bridge. The Fire Asili cleared the landing with ease and continued walking, not even looking back at Irfan.

“Re-Rekka?” Irfan reached for her, watching the young woman walk further and further away. “Rekka! I can’t…I can’t jump. I can’t jump this. Rekka! Don’t leave me here.” His voice trailed off to a pitiful squeak.

The glowing molten rock flowing far to his right seemed to mock his fear just as much as Rekka’s retreating form. Irfan stared after Rekka’s back, unable to tell if she was leaving him because she had not heard him or if she really didn’t care.

“Rekka!” He screamed her name again, but the Fire Asili didn’t respond. She just kept walking at a brisk pace, gaze trained forward until she was engulfed into the darkness of a cavern’s gaping maw.

Gripping his dirty shirt until his knuckles turned white, Irfan stepped some paces back. He glanced one last time up at the cave Rekka had disappeared into before launching into a run. He leaped and reached for the stone ledge, but his fingertips only brushed it. Plummeting, Irfan squeezed his eyes shut, telling his family that he loved them. The breath was knocked from his lungs when he hit the thick tar. He struggled to breathe as he thrashed in the viscous black fluid. Regaining his breath, the hot substance held him in place like too-thick honey.

“Help! Aaralyn! Garreth! Help!”

He spotted the pair in the distance, teetering dangerously on a slab of stone as they held each other in one another’s embrace. They were in as much of a precarious situation as he was. His panic and fear had nearly engulfed him, streaming through his veins until he could barely breathe.

He would have to watch Aaralyn and Garreth die. Rekka had abandoned them, and Mirth was too far away to save him. He was going to die a slow, burning, painful death.

The tears fell, and a dismal wail rose from his throat.

***

Mirth ran as fast as his minimal training in the Art of Speed allowed him. It wasn’t more than a moment before he reached the majority of the lava fields. Bending down to catch his breath, he caught the sight of something that made his heart lurch.

Garreth and Aaralyn stood over an expanse of molten rock, huddled against one another on a crumbling pillar. Then, over the wet pops of hot tar and gassy hisses of the lava, he picked up Irfan’s cries somewhere in the distance. A quick sweep of the field and he spied the Rāhā struggling in thick tar. Rekka was nowhere in sight, which made Mirth frown. Even a Fire Asili like her couldn’t survive a fall into the lava.

The groan of weakening stone snapped Mirth’s attention back to Garreth and Aaralyn. A large slab of earth stuck out just in front of the stone pillar the pair stood on. Thinking quickly, Mirth sprinted forward and forced magic into his fists. He punched the weakest points that anchored the stone to the rest of the cliffside. The moment it broke away, he focused the magic into his arms and legs and pushed it into the lava.

“Aaralyn! Garreth! Jump!”

The pair opened their eyes, relief washing over their features when they saw Mirth. Before they could celebrate, Garreth scooped Aaralyn into his arms once more and leaped off the crumbling pillar of rock. The lava was far too close for comfort as it consumed the slab of stone Mirth had pushed out as a landing platform for them. Still, Garreth was able to leap off the slab without severely burning his feet.

Garreth set Aaralyn down before wrapping Mirth in a massive hug.

“Mirth! You came for us.” Aaralyn tearfully smiled up at him before leaping in for a hug herself the moment Garreth released him.

“Yeah. I thought over some things, but we got to save Irfan first.”

The moment Mirth released Aaralyn from the hug, the stone pillar she and Garreth had been standing on crumbled into the lava with a splash. The trio exchanged horrified looks before sprinting to where Irfan was still struggling in the tar.

“Irfan!” Mirth shouted.

The small boy looked up from the tar, having grown tired from the struggle. He was encased in the viscous black sludge up to his neck and was already struggling to breathe as it weighed heavy on his chest. Still, just like Aaralyn and Garreth, relief and surprise lit up his eyes.

“Mirth!” Vigor renewed, Irfan struggled once more, pulling himself out up to the waist.

Mirth sprinted down the meandering path through the lava field, cursing when the lava scorched his skin. He assumed Rekka had used the unstable bridge because it was faster than his current path. Though, he couldn’t tell which way was more dangerous at the moment.

Panting, he finally reached Irfan. Mirth dipped his fingers into the tar. Although hot and uncomfortable, it wouldn’t burn Irfan. It was similar in temperature to a hot spring. Mirth’s main concern was Irfan slipping under the thick surface.

Mirth waded ankle-deep into the tar, a rod of magic forming in his hand until it reached Irfan. Focusing magic in both his legs and arms, Mirth tried to pull the smaller boy free from the tar. He eased Irfan’s body a little from the dark fluid’s grasp, but it was nowhere near enough. With his magic focused in three different places, Mirth found it hard to gather any extra strength to pull Irfan.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Mirth’s middle. Garreth smiled over his shoulder.

The Oṣó and Yari tugged and pulled, ignoring Irfan’s whimpers of pain. It took one last harsh tug before the smallest boy was pulled free from his imprisonment. Irfan weakly crawled the rest of his way through the shallow tar until he reached solid ground. There, he rested his head on the heated ground, groaning in pain.

“Is everyone okay?” Mirth glanced between the three. “Do you know where Rekka went?”

“Into the cave over there,” Irfan forced himself upright and pointed a tar-covered hand to the gaping mouth of the cavern.

“We have to go after her.” Mirth looked at the tar-covered Rāhā. “But you’re going to need to change clothes first. It won’t be good if that stuff cools.”

Irfan frowned, looking down at his tar-covered clothing. “I guess…I guess you’re right.”

He slipped his tar-covered backpack off his shoulders. Before he opened the bag, he looked up at Aaralyn. “Can you get the tar off my hands?”

It was lucky that he had been wearing pants and long sleeves, or more of him would have been covered in tar. When the others had told him he would be more comfortable ripping off the sleeves and pants, he had refused and suffered the heat. Albeit, he seemed not to be as bothered by the wastelands' heat as his other companions.

“Maybe…” Aaralyn pulled whatever water was left from the canteen she had strapped to her hip. It flowed just above the lava in a few quick successions. She didn’t want it to turn to steam and lose it, but hot water would work better than the lukewarm water in her canteen.

The hot water worked some, though Aaralyn had to pass it over Irfan’s hands many times before his tawny skin was visible again. Irfan tried to rub the rest of it away but only succeeded in smearing more of it on his skin. He shook his head and pointed to his bag. “Can you open it?”

Mirth was the closest, so he carefully undid the clasps of the bag, avoiding the tar as best as he could. With a quick wipe of his hands to rid them of the tar that did get on his fingers, Mirth carefully pulled out another long-sleeved, silken shirt and long silken pants similar to the ones Irfan was currently wearing. However, instead of the simple lavender and taupe he currently wore, both pants and shirt were dark blue in color, accented with pale-red salmon embroidery.

“I hate them,” Irfan muttered, a sadness settling over his shoulders. He nearly went to grip the hem of his shirt, only to remember it was covered in tar. “They are the color of Chishikijñāna.”

He carefully took the clothing from Mirth, only for his cheeks to flush red. “Could you… turn around.”

Everyone did so, allowing the Rāhā to have some semblance of privacy. Once Irfan was in his new clothing, he tossed his now useless tar-covered backpack, along with his dirty clothes, into the lava. He watched the lava bubble and pop, fingering the dark blue silk he now wore. “I don’t like these.”

Remembering Irfan’s dislike for the deity the rest of his family worshipped, no one said anything. Mirth rounded everyone together, having found a safer path to the cave Rekka had entered. It wasn’t long before they were welcomed into the shadows.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sightless

Rekka walked through the darkness, a small flame in her hand as her guiding light. She scanned the walls for anything of interest or places where the current passageway split. So far, it had been only one long tunnel with roaches and eyeless salamanders crawling across the damp stone walls.

Until now.

Rocks jostled somewhere far off within the cave system. Rekka paused, waiting and listening for more clattering of loose stones. When all was silent, she looked over her shoulder to her traveling companions, but no one was behind her. Dumbfounded, she stared at the spot where the other three should have been. Before she could consider whether to go back and look for her missing party or keep walking, there was another clattering of stones.

Something was in the caves with her.

Rekka continued to walk, her dark-red flame glowing a little brighter. The passageway widened into a vast cavern, revealing several new tunnels. Water dripped from stone teeth hanging from the cave's roof, and strange creatures scuttled across the damp, chilly ground. One sizeable white salamander paused, eyeless head turned to Rekka. With lightning speed, it snatched up a long-legged roach twice the size of its head. Rekka watched in disgusted fascination as the colorless amphibian struggled to force the twitching cockroach down its throat.

A soft giggle echoed through the cavern. Rekka looked up just as a woman emerged from the darkness. The firelight accented shadows across the stranger’s ghostly pale features. Pale-blonde, almost white hair was piled atop the woman’s head. A sly smile played on her lips as she approached Rekka, movements graceful like a panther stalking its prey. “What do we have here? A poor wandering traveler? Can I help you?” Her pale blue eyes raked over Rekka’s form before locking onto the fire flickering in her hand. “Fire Asili?”

Rekka was silent, the fire in her hand growing larger in warning.

“Nothing to say, hmm?” The woman walked closer, pausing in front of Rekka. She pulled a lock of white-blonde hair away from her pointed ears, silver rings, and studs reflecting the firelight. “I thought it’d be nice to have a little chat. Maybe help you on your journey.”

“I don’t need help.” Rekka tried to push past the woman, but she stood in her way.

Rekka shoved her shoulder into the stranger’s chest, her flaming hand too close for comfort. The blonde-haired woman hissed, her pale skin blistering under the unforgiving heat. Though, even as Rekka brought her fire closer, the woman did not give.

“Get out of my way.”

“Oh, a feisty one, isn’t she?” It was a male’s voice. The owner appeared from the shadows a few feet from the two women. “Fire Asili are always like that, aren’t they, Sokea?” The tall, willowy man raised an eyebrow at the blonde-haired woman.

“I have yet to meet one that wasn’t, Andha.” Sokea circled Rekka, her male companion taking her place, still blocking Rekka’s way through the cavern. “Then again, I haven’t met many Fire Asili myself. We like to keep to ourselves, but it’s always fun to have a new toy to play with.”

“New toy?” Rekka snarled. “I am not a toy.” She stepped back, fire growing bright.

“But you are. You’re something to play with.” Another male voice sounded from the darkness. A man emerged from the other side of the cavern. He was wider than the tall, willowy Andha and sported a thick dark blond beard.  “Doesn’t she look familiar?”

Sokea peered closer at Rekka. “You’re right, Uazro. She does, doesn’t she?”

“What’d you say we show her? See if she recognizes their faces?” Andha asked, long fingers splayed toward the ceiling as he smiled at Rekka. With a sweep of his hand, he stepped away from a shadowy corner.

A grey-haired woman and her near look-a-like daughter lay in the corner of the cave, whimpering. They were dirty, gaunt, and miserable, slumped against the wall.

“Mom!” Rekka pushed off the wall, but Uazro held her back.

The woman looked up, and her eyes lit up in recognition. She reached for her other daughter.

Rekka’s skin burned hot. Wrenching herself from Uazro’s grasp, she reached for her mother, but her fingers slip through her mother’s fingers. She tried again, but their forms dissolved into the shadows.

“Mom? Enya?”

“How interesting.” Sokea mused. “A Fire Asili is the daughter of a Soot Asili. They might be close, but…Fire is very different from Soot. And why do I have an inkling that your father isn’t a Fire Asili either.”

Rekka turned, eyes blazing. “What did you do?”

“Oh, I didn’t do anything. It was all Andha’s work. He’s the expert at recreating faces. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said they were real too.” Sokea approached Rekka.

Rekka lunged, but Sokea just frowned, stepping away before the fire could do any more damage to her pale skin.

“Remember, Sokea. Fire Asili have a temper.” Andha warned from where he was leaning against the cave wall, almost invisible in the shadows.

“Where’d you see my mother and Enya? Where’s my dad and my other sisters?” Rekka hissed, flaming fist aimed for Sokea.

“Oh, it was some days ago in the wastelands. It doesn’t really matter. They were already dead.”

“What?” Rekka’s fire flickered to a dark red as her heart dropped. “They’re…dead? My mom and sister are dead?”

“Don’t be too hung up on it. Lots of people die out here in the Wastes.” It was Uazro, the shortest of the three who had spoken, slowly approaching Rekka.

“No! My mom and sister are dead! I—” Rekka screamed, her fire burning brighter than ever before.

“I think I made her mad,” Uazro grinned, walking closer and closer. He gasped in pain when flames burned his arm, but that only stopped him for a moment.

“What’d you say, Sokea?” Andha’s voice drifted from where he was still leaning against the damp cave wall. “Shall we have some more fun?”

“Of course.” She licked her lips and advanced on Rekka.

“I’m not letting you kill me,” Rekka screamed and lashed her fire at Sokea.

“Who said anything about killing?” The moment the woman said those words, Rekka’s world went dark.

“I-I can’t see!” The Fire Asili whipped around, fire blazing even brighter, but she couldn’t even see her own flames. Her entire world was black.

She lashed out when a hand graced her back. The stouter male hissed in pain. There was another, sharper pinch on the back of her neck. This time, she didn’t hit the one who caused the pain.

“What did you do? I can’t see!” Rekka continued to whirl around, swearing and lashing out if any of them came too close.

“Illusions, sweetheart. Illusions.” Andha’s voice sounded too close to her ear, and she lashed out with a flaming fist. It made contact, and Andha howled in pain.

For a fleeting moment, Rekka could see the shadows of the three people surrounding her before her vision went dark again. She stood her ground, baring her teeth and igniting her hands with the hottest fire she could manage. She swung at them but could only guess where they were. Her fists never made contact, but sometimes there were hisses of pain. With each swing, she became more tired, and it seemed the Fae were enjoying their deadly dance, though Andha had retreated some paces away, nursing his burned face.

Panting and body slick with sweat, Rekka glared in their general direction. A rough hand grasped her throat and pushed her against the wall. Uazro was about to say something, but Rekka heated her skin. He let go with a shout of pain. Retaliating, he cracked his knuckles against the side of her head. Rekka’s consciousness wavered. Before he could bring a knee to the exhausted Fire Asili’s gut, there was a scream.

“Sokea?”

There was a heavy thud as Uazro was tossed across the cavern. Rekka pressed herself against the stone wall, fire burning bright once more, even as her limbs shook. A trickle of blood dripped from her temple. Too many voices filled the air, and there was another scream, the smell of blood and burned flesh thick in the air.

A pair of hands gripped Rekka’s smoldering forearms. “Rekka! It’s me. It’s me. I’m here. You’re okay. We chased them away. You’re okay.”

The flames lapping around her fists finally died down when Rekka recognized the voice. Her legs gave way, and her vision slowly returned. But she didn’t dare look at the owner of the voice. Too many emotions filled her, and she dared not lose herself to them while so many people were gathered.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.” Mirth helped the still partially blind Fire Asili to her feet, guiding her through the cavern. The others followed behind, worried for their wayward companion. They passed Uazro, who was pressed to the cold cave floor, a blood-oozing wound in his thigh. Andha wasn’t far off. Half the side of his face burned and blistered. Sokea was nowhere to be found.

“Here.” Mirth helped Rekka sit under a small waterfall he had found earlier when the group had disbanded. “Rest here for a while.” He tried to get Rekka to look at him, but she refused. “Irfan told me those were Illusion Fae. He said your vision should return to normal soon. Shout to me if you need anything, okay.”

Mirth walked away, joining the others in their hunt for something to eat. They had decided that they would stay in the cavern for the rest of the day until the following day, to which they would continue their journey to Bénipryroda’s Ring. The conversation was stilted even as Aaralyn tried her best to lift everyone’s spirits.

After some time, and Rekka having not moved from her spot, Mirth decided to check on her. With a few small fruits and a fillet of roasted fish, he approached the Fire Asili.

“How are you doing?” Mirth set the food down beside Rekka. “I brought you some food.” He was about to turn away and let her be, but something stopped him. “You know, I don’t really blame you for what just happened. You’re a bitch and seem to hate me for no good reason other than that I’m different than you and that I have the Terror of the Wastes chasing me. But I understand why you got so fed up with me today. It’s taking forever to find the Ring. It might not even exist. But I really think we’re going the right way and that we’ll find it soon. I just wish you would have thought about it a little more. You put everyone else in danger.”

“That’s not why…” Rekka cut herself off, unable to stop herself from sniffing before she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “They said they found my mother and sister dead.”

“Oh.” Mirth stepped back. “I’m…, I’m sorry.” He opened his mouth to say something more but then closed it.

“I won’t ever see them again.” Rekka curled in tighter on herself, glaring into the waterfall. “I should have never run off to that swamp. I should have never talked to you. The moment I saw you, I should have gone back to Mom and Dad. We would have never separated then. I would still be with them.”

“You might be dead if you were still with them.”

Rekka clenched her fists, a curl of smoke wafting off her skin.

“Rekka…” Mirth looked away. “You’re…you’re sister, Udia…” He swallowed hard, but he knew he had to tell her. The longer he waited, the more anger was allowed to brew. “She’s dead. I found her after the Shift.”

“What!” Rekka sprung to her feet, flaming fist raised and unshed tears shining in her eyes. “And you’re telling me this now?”

Mirth stepped back, hands in front of him to show he meant no harm, though a thin shield of magic formed between them. “I-I…there was never a right moment. You’re always so angry, and I knew you would get angrier if I told you. I knew you would act like this. Just, please, Rekka. Now you at least know what happened to her.”

“Yeah. She’s dead. Let me guess, Bhuva and my dad are dead too?”

Mirth reached out but stopped. “I’m sorry. I lost my mother—”

“I already know you lost your mother, stupid Oṣó! I don’t care! You keep talking about it, but it’s not going to help me.”

“We both lost our mothers. We have something that we could help each other with.”

“You’re an Oṣó. I’m an Asili. We are nothing alike. I don’t want to talk anymore.” Rekka walked down to where the waterfall flowed, cramming herself in a small alcove.

Sighing, Mirth retreated back to where the others were seated. He picked at his food for some time. Everyone was together again, but it wouldn’t be for long. If they made it to the Ring or not, Odysseus would still be on his heels. If Mirth didn’t want to risk bringing the Terror of the Wastes into the paradise he had to do something about it. He had made a plan, but it would only work if everyone worked together.

He glanced to Rekka, who was still seated in front of the waterfall. Every so often, she’d wipe her hand across her face, crying for the loss of her family. Mirth didn’t know if he could get her to help. Surely, she wanted Odysseus dead as much as the next person, but if it meant working with him…

Nonetheless, he cleared his throat and made his announcement. “If I’m going to go to the Ring, I want to get rid of Odysseus. I don’t want to worry about him trying to kill me or any of my loved ones.” He looked over the three faces gathered before him.

“Are you sure?” Aaralyn lowered the fruit she had been eating. “You could die.”

“Not if I have everyone to help and if everything goes as planned.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait until we get to the Ring? Then we’ll have lots of people to help us kill him?” Irfan asked, clearly not wanting to get in any more confrontations with Odysseus.

“Then they won’t let me into the Ring, and I’ll be killed. Everyone’s too afraid to do anything about him. They’ll probably want to defend the ring but not go out and slaughter the Terror.” Mirth sighed, looking out the cave entrance and to the deep lake he had seen earlier.

“What do you plan to do? We can’t fight Odysseus like a well-trained warrior or a Jyyn with a nasty ability.” Aaralyn asked.

“Well…I was hoping, with everyone’s help, we would be able to imprison him.” Mirth pointed to the lake just outside the cave. “If we knocked that massive boulder onto him, or trap him underwater, maybe that’ll keep him there for a while. I don’t know much about Fä, but I think they can still drown, just not die. So…if Odysseus can’t breathe and is unconscious, that would be similar to him being dead, right?”

A long silence followed until Irfan spoke. “It might work. It’s just a little easier to kill than a pureblood Fä, but he’s just a lot more powerful, too, with his Fire and Darkness. But, I think the drowning will work, and we can just trap him underwater forever.”

Garreth grunted, worry in his eyes. He gestured with his hands like he was swimming to the surface.

“It’ll work if no one tries to get him out,” Aaralyn spoke the words he couldn’t say.

“What do you say? Will you help me get rid of Odysseus?” Mirth looked between the gathered faces, heart clenching in his chest, waiting for their replies.

Garreth was the first to nod. The worry and fear didn’t leave his eyes, but there was a resilience behind those other emotions. He wanted the Terror of the Wastes gone like everyone else.

Aaralyn’s nod followed, but it was clear that she was worried. Finally, Irfan agreed, shear nervousness rolling off him as he fidgeted with his silk shirt.

Mirth returned the nods, the solemn silence settling heavily on their shoulders. He glanced over at Rekka. She was close enough to hear the conversation, but he didn’t know if she would join him. She was an important piece, but he wouldn’t push her. She was mourning the loss of her mother and sisters, and her hate for him seemed to have only grown. For now, he would let her be.

As they finished off the last of their meal, Mirth walked the other three through his plan, making sure his voice carried to where Rekka’ was seated in front of the waterfall. When everything was gone over thrice, they finally settled down for a fitful night’s sleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Extinguishing the Shadow Flames

All five travelers awakened at the crack of dawn, some more reluctantly than others. Little conversation was exchanged, a grim silence hanging over them. The plan to imprison Odysseus weighed heavily on everyone’s shoulders as they rearranged what little they still clung to. Mirth had gone over the plans several times during the night, making revisions where they could, but everything was still very much in the air. None of them were experts at planning fights and battles. They could only hope that fate was on their side this morning.

It was all a waiting game now.

They needed Odysseus to find them in the cavern since it was the best place to carry out the plan. Anywhere else in the wasteland, and Odysseus would have the upper hand. Here, there were several options, from shoving a massive boulder on top of him to showering him with thousands of rocks in hopes of drowning him and keeping him underwater until his long lifespan finally ran out. Water was their best friend here. It meant Aaralyn could use her abilities to their greatest magnitude.

“Do you think he’ll fall for this?” Aaralyn asked, not looking at Mirth as she rolled a tiny orb of water across the cave floor. “He’s a Fä and has slaughtered so many people. Why would he fall for a simple trick like this?”

“He’s overconfident. Odysseus doesn’t think we can take him down. I bet he doesn’t even think we could make a plan. As long as he thinks he’ll win, we have a small advantage. And we’re not trying to kill him. We’re just trying to imprison him. It’s a little easier.”

“Just a little.” Aaralyn smiled at Mirth, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m just so scared. What if everything doesn’t go as planned? What if he—”

Aaralyn stopped talking when an ash-grey hand clamped onto her shoulder. She didn’t have to look up to know it was Garreth smiling down at her, his magenta eyes shining as if to say, ‘everything will be okay.’

Irfan also approached, nervously wringing his dark blue silken shirt. “I’m sorry I’m not much use. I wish I could do more. If I had my wings and had a powerful deity, I could help everyone a lot more. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Irfan. You helped a lot with the planning. I just want you to stay out of the way so that you don’t get hurt.” Mirth glanced over his shoulder at Rekka, who was seated some paces away from everyone else. “As long as we have our fire-power, we should be okay.”

“Maybe…maybe I could figure out what your ruby does!” Irfan covered his mouth, having shouted the words too loud for his own liking. “I don’t like being useless. Let me look at it one more time. I’m sure my older sister did research on Odysseus’s artifacts before. Maybe if I look at it another time, it’ll jog my memory.” Irfan continued to ramble, a hand reaching for the ruby around Mirth’s neck.

“You’ve had enough time to stare at it, Irfan, and I’m not letting you touch it.” At his own words, Mirth’s still injured hand throbbed. “As far as I’m concerned, it just causes pain.”

“But pain could be good!”

“Irfan!”

The Rāhā flinched at Mirth’s sharp tone. He retreated back, returning to wringing his silken shirt.

A sudden chill ran through everyone, raking goosebumps across their skin even though the air was thick and muggy. They exchanged nervous glances.

It was time.

Mirth climbed to his feet and peeked out of the cave, spying the form of Odysseus in the distance. The Terror of the Wastes was currently in his half-transformed state, making him stick out like a sore thumb in the pale, desolate landscape. It wouldn’t be long before the Fä scaled the mountainside and prowled the caverns, searching for them.

Swallowing hard, Mirth withdrew from the mouth of the cave, unable to stop himself from prodding his injured hand. He turned to the others that were expectantly waiting. Giving a silent nod, the tension around them thickened. It was time, only just dawning on everyone at what they were about to do.

As the others slowly slipped out of the cave to position themselves on their assigned spot, Rekka shoved past Mirth. “You know,” she turned to him, eyes flashing dangerously. “I still think Aaralyn would have made better bait.”

“No,” Mirth’s voice was low, though his gaze was trained on the dark length of the cave passageway. “We’ve already talked about this last night, Rekka. I’m not letting Aaralyn be bait. It’s me that Odysseus wants the most, not her.”

“As a Water Asili, she would have a better chance of running and diving into that water below. But whatever. Risk your life, Oṣó.” As Rekka turned away, she snorted, “I bet you would be happy to make me bait if he was lusting after me as much as your water-lover.”

“I wouldn’t. You’d do a terrible job luring him.”

Before Rekka could retort, Mirth delivered her a sharp glare. This sent her sauntering into the darkness and onto the ledge where everyone but Aaralyn was gathered.

Mirth released a shaky breath as he waited for Odysseus. He went over the plan in his head again and again. He would dive off the cave edge into the water below in hopes to lure Odysseus into the deep water while Rekka and Garreth pushed the massive boulder onto the Fä. Aaralyn would be near the water’s edge to help Mirth while he was in the water. Rekka was also in charge of making sure Odysseus didn’t gut Mirth. Irfan would sit out of harm’s way and act as a lookout if Odysseus had anything else planned. The plan wasn’t anywhere near foolproof, and Mirth just hoped it worked one way or another.

At the sound of footsteps, his head snapped up. Sucking in a breath, Mirth pressed himself to the stone wall and stared into the darkness. A pair of glowing, fiery eyes grew brighter and brighter with each step the owner took. That same, cold voice spoke, resounding through the vast cavern.

“I know you’re here, child of Hubris.”

Mirth squeezed his eyes shut, sending a prayer to any deity that was listening and telling his mother that he loved her. Then, he pushed himself away from the stone wall and faced Odysseus. Even without the glowing maw, eyeless sockets, or strange glassy skin, Mirth couldn’t help but be terrified of the visage before him. The tar-black skin, imposing muscular frame, and glowing fire-colored eyes could unnerve seasoned warrior.

“I’m here, Odysseus.”

The Fä hummed, eyes raking Mirth’s form. “Where are your traveling companions? Don’t tell me they abandoned you.”

“I don’t need them.” Mirth clenched his fists, a teal sword of pure magic forming in his hand. “I can take you on my own.”

“Surely, you don’t believe that.” Odysseus slowly approached. “You’re shaking like a terrified child.” He gradually reached out his hand, only for Mirth to swing his blade, the edge slicing through the Fä’s flesh with ease.

Odysseus withdrew his hand as if Mirth had offered him something, closing his fingers around the wound. He didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the injury and continued to stare at Mirth. “You have the fury of your whore of a mother in your eyes.”

Mirth gritted his teeth, the blade in his hand growing bright. He itched to lunge for the Fä, wanting to shove the blade of pure magic through his gut just like his mother had done, but there was a plan to follow. If Odysseus wished to toy with him, then he could play the game just as well.

“Chase me, bastard.” Mirth spun around, praying the Fä would follow. Blade vanishing, Mirth leaped off the ledge, diving into the deep blue water below.

When Mirth surfaced, his heart lurched. Odysseus was staring at him from the ledge above, fiery eyes narrowed. His gaze stayed on Aaralyn for a long, uncomfortable moment before it trailed upwards to where Rekka and Garreth were positioned by the boulder. The Yari was terrified, while the Fire Asili stood in front of him, red-orange fire blazing on her fists. Odysseus spotted the fifth member some paces behind the two, cowering against the stone wall.

“Pathetic.” The Fä slowly turned back to Mirth. Odysseus could just as easily walk the narrow pathway and slaughter the three perched on the boulder’s ledge, but what fun would that be? Besides, his true prey was still waiting for him, treading water in the deep blue lake feet below him.

The smallest of laughs sounded from Odysseus’s throat. He smiled down at the young man below. “Fine. I’ll let you have some fun before I turn the water red with your blood.”

Odysseus joined Mirth with a tremendous splash. The Oṣó had already begun to swim to shore, but before he could plant his feet into firm ground, the Fä grabbed a fistful of Mirth’s long dark hair and pulled him back into the water.

Odysseus held Mirth up by the collar of his shirt, rivets streaming down the young man’s face as he coughed up water. The man held Mirth higher into the air, curiosity sparking in his eyes when Mirth grasped his forearm. He dropped Mirth back into the water, pulling him up by his arm. Mirth gasped for breath, struggling against the Fä as he tried to keep his head above water.

Then Mirth screamed.

Odysseus had peeled back the half-healed flesh from his injured hand. Smearing the blood that now oozed from the wound between his fingers, a smile crept on his lips. “Skyrah’s curse has done well.” Eyes locked on Mirth, Odysseus slowly licked the blood off his fingers.

“Did you know, Oṣó, that every one of my lovers and children in that swamp had untarnishable jewelry laid upon them? Did you know that each piece of jewelry had a curse set upon it? Every curse was different from the last, some terrifying and deadly, others simple yet painful. You’re lucky, Oṣó.” Odysseus dug his clawed fingers into Mirth’s palm, earning another scream from the young man. “Skyrah’s Ruby’s curse was simple. I’m glad you chose to steal from her. It wouldn’t have been fun to rip you to shreds if you couldn’t fight back.”

Claws dug deeper, and screams grew louder.

Everyone else was at a standstill, too shocked and unable to do anything because Odysseus was too close to Mirth. Then, Mirth shot his leg between Odysseus’s legs with as much force as he could. His magic-covered fingers sliced with ease through the Fä’s flesh. The moment Mirth was released, he swam to shore, bleeding hand pressed to his chest.

When the Fä surfaced, a bright red-orange flame engulfed his body. A dense fog settled across the waters as steam rolled off his body. Rekka’s flames burned brighter and brighter, red-orange tongues changing from a pure orange to a searing yellow. Then, the flames turned black, and from above, Rekka dropped to her knees, exhausted.

Odysseus’s fiery gaze locked on Rekka, his own dark flames growing larger and hotter as they engulfed him as if to show that they were far stronger than the young woman’s average colored flames. “It’s a nuisance having all five pests. If you run off somewhere else, then maybe I’ll forget you ever bothered me. Just let me have my fun.” His gaze slowly turned back to Mirth, fire darkening evermore.

“Never!” Aaralyn shouted. She stomped a foot on the ground and raised her hands to the sky, lake water following her movement. The wave crashed down on Odysseus, another already formed the moment the Fä surfaced. Again and again, Aaralyn rose massive waves from the lake and forced them down on top of Odysseus.

“You can’t keep this up for long!” Odysseus managed through one of the waves, coughing and spluttering.

He was right. The Water Asili was already tiring, sweat beading on her brow.

“Keep it up for a little longer,” Mirth whispered.

Mirth sprinted up the winding pathway to where Garreth and Rekka stood. The Fire Asili was on her feet, though she was a little pale. However, that didn’t stop her from pushing the massive boulder Garreth had already moved several inches forward. Mirth joined them, forcing as much magic as he could into his arms and legs. Just as the boulder teetered on the edge, the waves stopped crashing over Odysseus.

The Fä blinked away the water streaming from his face only to find himself staring at the massive boulder. He turned to swim to shore but found that he couldn’t move. The water was holding him hostage, the small Water Asili glaring daggers at him from the water’s edge.

Pebbles rained down on his skull. Odysseus looked up one last time. The massive boulder was the last thing he saw. As soon as the boulder threw up waves of water, Mirth gestured for the other two to stand back. Garreth joined him, and together, Oṣó and Yari, they broke off the jutting rock that the boulder had been perched on. Hundreds of rock fragments fell into the water with satisfying splashes one after another until everything fell silent.

“Is he really trapped?” Irfan asked, peering over the edge. “I can’t believe it was that easy.”

“We were just in the right place and had the right people.” Mirth pressed his still bleeding palm to his shirt, staring into the water. “I just hope that keeps him there for a damn long time.”

With that, everyone quickly gathered what little belongings they had left and set off on the last leg of their journey. They could all finally breathe a little easier, knowing that the Terror of the Wastes wouldn’t bother them anymore.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Welcomed into Nature’s Embrace

Little conversation drifted between the five travelers as they walked the mountainsides. Their sole focus was finding Bénipryroda’s Ring. After Odysseus was imprisoned in his watery demise, Irfan pointed out a mountain range he had spotted in the distance while everyone was recollecting themselves. The said mountain range was curved, and after scaling a higher vantage point, Irfan noted that it was ring-like in shape.

Once those words had been spoken, Mirth immediately rallied the rest of the rag-tag group and pushed toward the not-so-distant formation. How they had missed it last night? They could blame it on their nerves and dying will to find the Ring.

Even as their excitement grew with each step closer to the ring of mountains, the conversation was still at a standstill. No one dared to breathe a word of hope as if it would shatter the mountains and destroy whatever lay within their shadows. Not only was everyone trying to contain their hope, but they were also absorbing what had just taken place. They, five mere young adults, had successfully trapped the Terror of the Wastes. It seemed too easy, but Aaralyn had checked the lake. She confirmed the Fä was under the rubble. The clouds of blood wafting from the pile of stones was also a good indicator.

Nonetheless, the group of five still felt as if they had to hold their breath. Irfan continued to glance over his shoulders, expecting the Terror of the Wates to charged them from behind, dripping wet and covered in gashes. But no such thing happened.

By the time the sun touched the horizon, the band of five were standing at the Ring’s wall. Garreth was the one who had found the massive opening controlling the flow of people in and out of the mystical paradise. There, they stood, taking in the sights and sounds already drifting from the gaping mouth.

"Ready?" Mirth asked, looking between each of the four travelers.

Aaralyn grasped his hand, smiling up at him before she took Garreth's hand. The Yari, in turn, took Irfan's hand. The smallest boy gripped the massive ash-grey hand tight and didn't even offer a glance at Rekka, whose arms were crossed over her chest as she stared at the opening.

"This better be the real thing." Rekka walked forward, the first to step into the shadows.

Swallowing hard, Mirth walked the rest of the band into the shadows. Strange runes glowed in the darkness, lighting their way. The four squeezed each other's hands with each step closer they took to the glaring light at the other end of the tunnel. As the number of glowing runes faded and the light increased, everyone stopped. Mirth exchanged one last look between everyone.

"You ready?"

They stepped inside Bénipryroda’s Ring.

So many voices greeted them as if a magical wall had been holding back the commotion. Maybe it had. People of all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors walked through the streets. So many houses and shops span before them, but beyond them, nature was vast. This was the Ring's convergence point, where people were acclimated, found their families, and were further shunted off to a more comfortable region of the massive Ring.

When Aaralyn squeezed his hand, Mirth looked at her, but then he was drawn to the two massive guards standing at the entrance. Garreth grunted, his eyes growing wide at the sight of the muscled-bound, sage-green skinned guard sporting thick tusks jutting from his lower jaw. The man raised a dark eyebrow, but the slightest of smiles pulled the corner of his lip.

The other guard was another man. He stood tall, but there was tension throughout his shoulders. It may have been because of the large Yari that stood on the other side of the entrance, or maybe he was taking everything too seriously. Still, he caught Mirth's eye, and a fair eyebrow shot up. A wiggle of his fingers, blue magic wafting off them. An Oṣó.

"There's another Yari here," Aaralyn whispered, squeezing Garreth’s large hand. "Isn’t' it great to see one that looks a lot like you?"

Garreth returned the smile, but there was sadness in his eyes.

"It's been a long time since a group of kids walked through." A voice grumbled. The owner stepped in front of them, arms crossed over his chest as he scrutinized each of the five. His almond-colored skin had been darkened by years in the sun, and a bushy red beard covered his strong jaw. Green eyes bore into Mirth's russet ones. "What brings you to the Ring?"

"We're looking for our families. All of us have been separated from them during the Shift a moon ago. We were hoping to find a home here and find our families. I’m hoping my grandparents made it here and my friend's parents too." Mirth looked at the others behind him.

"Quite a mix," The red-haired man grumbled. Once more, his green gaze traveled over each of the young adults. Then swept back, locking on Garreth. "Yari are only accepted under special circumstances." He nodded to the Yari guard. "Alun risked his life to save Lady Maivy and her unborn child. A damn Jyyn tried to kill them."

A whimper rose from Garreth as he shrank in on himself. He glanced to Aaralyn, who was still holding his hand.

"He is really, really nice." Aaralyn squeezed his hand while she talked, giving the red-haired man her biggest smile. "I promise he won't hurt anyone. He's saved our lives several times, and he doesn't have anyone to look after him. He's not old enough to survive the Wastes by himself. Please, sir, he won't hurt anyone."

Before the man could voice an objection, Alun, the Yari guard, spoke. "Let the kid in, Javor. He looks harmless.” Nodding to the other guard, he walked up to Garreth, clapping a large hand onto his shoulder. "What's your name?

"His name is Garreth. He can't speak."

Alun nodded. "Well, if you don't have anyone to stay with, why don't you come live with me?"

Garreth glanced down at Aaralyn, then slowly shook his head. Alun stepped back, not bothered by the notion. Instead, he smiled. "I'll be. First time I've ever seen a non-Yari want to take one in. Hope your mama is okay with this lad. If not, send him my way."

"My mama will love him as much as I do." Aaralyn grinned back at the guard. She turned to Javor. "Can Garreth stay?"

Javor stared, green eyes stern. He sighed. "Sure."

"Well, if you hadn't said yes, then I would have." A slender hand rested on Javor's shoulder. A tall woman stood behind him, her brown eyes nothing but warm. Her dirty blond hair was pulled back in many braids, leaving her long pointed ears on display for all to see. "I can see that he has a very kind soul. He would never hurt anything unless his friends and family were in mortal danger. Isn't that right, Garreth?"

Garreth grunted, surprise shining in his eyes.

Javor seemed to want to say more but settled with grumbling under his breath and turning to a couple who had just walked into the Ring. When the five didn't move, he ushered them past, telling them to follow the woman.

"So many new faces today, huh?" The Fae asked, leading the five through the busy streets, stopping at a bench so they could talk. "In other words. Welcome to Bénipryroda’s Ring. My name is Ikusasa, and I am here to help you settle in. Before us is the village where everyone takes a few days to gather themselves before moving to their preferred village if they wish. Some have taken root here and don't mind living among other races. I assume you would like some rooms to stay in for a night or two?"

"No..." Mirth pressed his thumb into his injured hand. "If possible, we were hoping to see if we could find our families. Sooner than later would be the best."

Ikusasa blinked. The group waited for her to say something, but she just stared at Mirth for an uncomfortably long moment. Then, just before Aaralyn was going to ask if the woman was alright, a bright smile slid across her lips. "Yes. Yes. That'll be perfectly fine. It's been a few days since I've been asked to reunite families, especially four at once. Your grandparents are the elderly Oṣó couple, I assume."

"Yes! How did you know?"

Ikusasa giggled. "A Fae has to keep some of her secrets, doesn't she? I'm sure you'll figure it out. It's not that rare of an ability. Come along. Your families are waiting for you." She walked, the five eagerly following. "First, the Asili village. It's the closest, and we have two Asili among us."

Once more, silence fell between the group as they followed the Fae woman through the first village. There was a massive variety of people walking through the streets and huddled within houses and shops, from a Yari with striking horns and dark blue skin to a Light Asili putting on a colorful street performance with the help of a couple Oṣó. Everyone was living in harmony.

They exited the village and were welcomed into the embrace of nature. Trees towered over them, and a creek gurgled some strides away. A small group of dawn-horses watched them from where they ate the small fruits that had fallen from a tree. Birds chattered overhead, and fish swam with the currents of the river they were slowly approaching.

"Everything's so beautiful." Aaralyn stopped, raking her hand through the water. "The Shift never reached here. Everything's so alive." She laughed and twirled.

"We are here at the Water Asili village." Ikusasa gestured to the small village across the river. "Each Asili village is small, but it has been decided that it is better to keep the Asili apart, unlike the other races. I am actually rather surprised to see a Water and Fire traveling together." She turned to Aaralyn and Rekka.

"I don't know if I'd say we're friends..." Rekka grumbled, though her gaze was locked on the plume of smoke in the distance. "Is that where the Fire Asili village is?"

Ikusasa nodded, though her thin brows furrowed. "How many times must that man be told not to create so much smoke. I understand he's a Soot Asili, but it lowers the air quality too much." She shook her head.

"My dad. That has to be my dad." Rekka perked up.

"Your dad?" Ikusasa stared at the smoke plume again, then back to Rekka. She made no further comment and turned to Aaralyn, nodding.

"Come on, Garreth." The Water Asili grabbed him by the hand and raced across the bridge and into the Water Asili village.

The others stood back, wanting to see if Aaralyn would find her family. They didn't have to wait long. A man and woman walked out of a small store. Three children walked between them while the woman held a small but noticeable baby bump. Before everyone was even outside the shop, the youngest of the three pointed at the figure that had crossed the bridge.

"Aara!" The young boy flung himself at Aaralyn, clinging to her legs. "Where'd you go?" He looked up at her, dark blue eyes brimming with tears.

"Evian." She scooped up her youngest brother into her arms. "I missed you so much." She rocked him in a tight hug. With the boy still in her arm, she smiled tearfully at her approaching parents. Her mother wrapped her in a tight hug, joined by her father and other siblings.

"Is everyone alright?" Aaralyn managed between the bodies. "Is my baby sibling okay?

"Yes. Yes. Everyone is alright." Her mother's voice was muffled, her face pressed into her daughter's shoulder. "I thought I'd never see you again." She pulled away from her eldest child, wiping the tears from her eyes as she inspected Aaralyn's face. "How'd you find the Ring?"

Aaralyn wiped her tears and turned to the three standing further back, watching the family reunion unfold. "They did. My new friends. Mirth the Oṣó, Irfan the Rāhā, Rekka the Fire Asili, and our new brother, Garreth." She grabbed the Yari's hand and pulled him closer.

"A...Yari." Her mother stared up at Garreth, who bashfully met her gaze. With his shoulders drawn in and barely meeting anyone's eyes, he looked more like a scolded puppy than the fearsome monsters his kind were known to be.

"He saved me and my friends, and he needs a family." Aaralyn squeezed his arm, glancing between her mother and father.

A knowing look passed between the three of them. Her mother smiled at Garreth. "Welcome to the family, Garreth." She placed a gentle hand on his arm before lifting his head so that he would look into her eyes.

"A new brother?" Evian pulled at Garreth's dirty shirt, which hadn't been changed since they started their journey to the Ring. "I like your teeth. You look like Mr. Alun. I'm Evian. This is my big sister Kolora and big brother Cresswell, and we'll have a new sibling, but not for six more moons."

Garreth waved at the other Water Asili but kept close to Aaralyn, clearly nervous.

Aaralyn squeezed his hand. "He can't speak, but he is very smart."

"Well, come along, you two." Aaralyn's father placed a hand on Garreth's back, even though the boy was a few inches taller than him. As the family walked away, Aaralyn turned around, waving back at her three friends.

Mirth and Irfan waved back, but Rekka just scowled. Nonetheless, they turned to Ikusasa, ready to be led into the Fire Asili village.

The three stayed silent as they walked, tension settling between them. Rekka knew that she had lost her mother and two of her sisters, but she also knew her dad was alive. Was her other sister in the Ring? Did her dad know about their deaths? An anxious heat radiated off her. Before they stepped onto the grounds of the Fire Asili village, a voice stopped them.

"Irfan?"

The dark-haired boy spun around, only to clap a hand over his mouth at the man standing before him—the same tawny skin, dark brown hair, and near black, dark brown eyes. A pair of dark blue wings hung from his back, each feather edged with a rich dark pink salmon. The young man continued to approach, his legs barely able to keep himself upright. He stumbled forward and scooped the younger boy into a massive hug, his wings closing around the boy. When he withdrew, tears rolled down his face.

"You're alive. You're alive. My little brother's alive."

"Nipun." Irfan wheezed. "You're hugging me too tight."

His older brother immediately withdrew, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry that Hyun and Fateen teased you so much. I should have stepped in. Chishikijñāna gave both Hyun and I nightmares." He laughed, rubbing away another tear. "Mom and Dad will be so happy to see you alive."

"I have friends to thank." Irfan glanced over his shoulder at Mirth and Rekka. "They helped me. If they hadn't let me come along, I wouldn't be here."

"Bring them home, then. We'll all love to meet them." He ruffled the shorter boy's hair. "You didn’t happen to grow your wings while you were out adventuring the Wastes?" He ruffled Irfan's back, looking for any sort of wing nubs. "You're old enough to take Chishikijñāna as your deity. Any time now."

Irfan cringed. "No...."

"Well, maybe this adventure will have encouraged you to take the deity of knowledge and finally grow those wings of yours. Maybe your wings will look better than Hyun's. She's always complaining how ugly her wings are." Nipun laughed and slung an arm around his brother's shoulders, only to retract. "You stink. When's the last time you've bathed?" Nipun wafted a hand under his nose, making a face. "Come on, stinky.”

The older man stopped and waved to someone in the distance. It was a woman. She froze, dropping what she had been holding. Stumbling, she nearly fell onto her knees but caught herself. She ran, long skirts swishing around her legs and the long sleeves of her shirt flowing behind her. Her large dark blue wings wrapped around Irfan. A sob broke from her as she held him close.

"My boy! My boy!" She cradled him close to her chest, her legs finally giving out and bringing Irfan to the ground with her. Nipun stood behind the two, patting his mother's back.

"I made it back, mama," Irfan whimpered. "I made it back." He looked up at her, tears rolling down his cheeks. "But I can't fly yet, mama."

"It's okay, Irfan. Everything is okay. Don't worry about your wings. All that matters is your alive. That all our family is alive." She brushed a hand through his dark hair and hugged him close again.

Leaving the family to catch up, Mirth and Rekka continued their way to the Fire Asili village.

The remaining two stepped into the Fire Asili village, Ikusasa leading them to the outside training grounds where the plume of dark smoke emanated. The familiar figure of Barrak was throwing furious punches at a wounded dummy, his skin smoldering, but no flames flickered. Rekka stood, watching her father throw punch after punch, but she did not move.

"What do I tell him?" Her voice was tight.

"Just start by showing him that you are alive." Ikusasa rested a hand on Rekka's back. "He'll be happy to know at least one of his daughters survived. Then, when the time is right, tell him what happened to them."

Rekka nodded and walked onto the training field, fists clenched at her sides. With each step that brought her closer to her father, the faster her strides became. Rekka ran to her father, flinging herself into his arms when he turned around. Her shoulders shook with sobs as she hugged her father tight, the only person that remained in her family.

Mirth hung back, watching the bitter-sweet reunion. He looked up at Ikusasa and nodded.

It took nearly an hour on foot to reach the Oṣó village. Ikusasa smiled at the young man as she led him to the shore of a small lake. She pointed at the elderly couple tossing seeds to the colorful songbirds. Mirth smiled at the Fae, tears in his eyes. Mouthing a thank you so that his voice wouldn't crack, he walked toward his grandparents.

"Grandma. Grandpa." His voice shook, but it was more than loud enough for them to hear.

Third gawked at the sight of his grandson while Sapience swept him into a gentle hug. A heartbeat later, Third joined them. The three shared a heartfelt moment. No words were needed.

Mirth looked up at them, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Mom..."

"We know." Third swallowed hard, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Ikusasa told us, but she couldn’t see if you were alive or not." He hugged Mirth tight. "I'm so thankful you found the Ring." He laughed. "We have our grandson back."