I’ve been at this for hours now and I think it’s about ti I give up. Elder Angarika’s halberd wasn’t hard to find, and has a pretty similar function to the relic spear. It’s Elder Cyrus’ scimitar that is nowhere to be found. I don’t know if it fell further into the earth than the rest of my tribe’s belongings or sothing else has co along and taken it, but it isn’t here any longer.
The wagon with my elder’s maps and docunts is unsalvageable. They are treated to protect from fire, but not water. At one point in ti, this entire tunnel system was flooded. Nothing vulnerable to the liquid survived. It’s not as disappointing as losing one of our tribe’s relics, but without those maps, we’ll be travelling blind.
With spear in hand, I wrap myself in physical flas and carry myself out of the fissure. Flying with fire is far slower than doing so with wings, but I’d rather keep my hands on my spear. I’ve tried growing a pair of wings from my back in this form, but gaining air like that was almost impossible. There’s more to the way a bird flies than just their wings. The very shape of their body helps. When I’m in my default form, it’s simply easier to carry myself with physical fire.
Spear gripped tight and halberd trailing, I return to the duo I brought with . Grímr lays flat, relaxing under the afternoon sun while Leal scratches away at a notebook. Strangely, they are both engaged in conversation. It hurts a bit to know it’s only Leal doesn’t want to talk to, especially considering she rarely spoke to anyone besides back in Fisross.
No, I can’t think like that. It’s good that Leal has grown and can hold conversation with others now. I just need to be patient and wait until she’s ready to treat the sa.
I almost leave them to their talk, not wanting to intrude when it’s been so quiet since we left, but Grímr has already twisted his head my way, so there’s no escaping now.
“You found it?” he asks, which alerts Leal to my presence.
“Yeah,” I say, putting on a grin. I don’t even need to force it. Any ti I look at the spear in my hands, I feel giddy. It makes a little sad to think of the previous wielder, but I finally have the opportunity to live up to Mum’s legacy.
I flourish the weapon, and burst out a tiny invisible fla from the tip into the sky. They don’t see it, but they definitely feel the heat of it.
Leal grabs a flask of water and gulps it down. Her markings light up and imdiately steam billows off her body. Is the clear fire really that strong?
“Please be careful when you do whatever that was,” Leal gasps as she pulls the bottle away. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem hurt.
I usually am pretty good at holding the heat back from hurting my friends, but it seems I’m not good enough to hold back the imnse temperature emit by the spear. “I’m sorry, I’ll be careful.” Looks like I can’t use it while I have others around.
Leal, despite having just been nearly roasted, isn’t mad. Rather, she appears interested. The mad sort of interest I’ve only seen from mages.
“That heat, it wasn’t only you, was it?” she’s already in front of , looking between the spear in my hands and the halberd floating behind . “Can I see?”
I bring the halberd forward, letting Leal place her hands on it. This is the most open she’s been with for a while, and while I plan to return the weapon to the Agglorate, there shouldn’t be a problem with letting her look over it for a while. Her eyes trace each of the white lines along its length, confusion clear in each. I know exactly what confuses her so; the lines in typical inscriptions always connect with one another. Even inscriptions with clearly separate energy pathways are connected by their inscribed material.
A few markings across her hand glow, and it is clear she’s trying to pass water hyle into the weapon, but nothing happens. The halberd simply doesn’t respond to water. In fact, it doesn’t even allow the hyle within the tal, which surprises even .
I lift my spear again, and show Leal how the golden flas pull in through the handle of the weapon, then coat the blade in white fla. She swivels between watching the fla over the blade and the inscriptions that don’t light as she’s probably used to.
“That should be impossible,” she says. “You aren’t ssing with and increasing the temperature on your own, are you?”
Her stare digs into , but I quickly wave her off. “No, no. I can’t even make that invisible fla you saw before. Not without this.” My fists clench around the shaft, but I resist the temptation to recreate that tiny, unbelievably hot fire.
It might be because she can’t control her curiosity, but I’m happy she’s not holding herself back anymore. She is clearly still the sa curious girl I t back when she wanted to know about my body and how it worked.
Of course, it doesn’t last. Leal, as if just realising that she’s supposed to hate , backs up and goes quiet, letting the halberd fall into the grasp of my flas once more.
I catch Grímr watching on with a raised eyebrow, so I glare at him. He simply chuckles and rolls over, letting the sun roast the other side of his body.
And just like that, we fall back into silence.
It will be dark soon, so we’ll probably rest here the night before starting toward the Agglorate tomorrow. I start a little campfire for my travelling partners and drop the halberd next to it. If I leave it here, I just know Leal won’t be able to resist inspecting it again. Leaving these two to talk about whatever they were talking about before I arrived, I take my spear and walk across the rocky plateau.
With a weapon in my hands again after so long, I need to practice. Relearn what my aunt and Bunny taught . As I was first taught, I refrain from coating my weapon in a blaze. Even without the fire flowing through the spear, it cuts through stone easier than any other I’ve had. I’m sure it helps that I’ve beco better at controlling my body — amplifying my weight upon my strike — but the blade is sharp and hard enough to cut through without all that much strength.
I spend a while simply practising my forms, but eventually I get bored. The sun has set, and the moon has whittled away to only quarter light, leaving the vast wasteland to the north lit ever so slightly. How many tis in my life have I looked upon this sight? How many years has it been since I last?
I once yearned to return to the tis I spent with my tribe, but I have moved on now. They are gone and have passed into the eternal inferno where their flas may burn for eternity. Wishing to return to my simple travels by their side will do nothing but bring back the grief that once consud . They have moved on, and so have I.
Besides, I have new friends to call my own. I might miss my family, but that doesn’t an I can’t move forward. The wasteland will always be my first ho, but I don’t know if I would return to it permanently. I still feel the sa as I did years ago; the wasteland is dull but there’s so much outside of it to explore. Now that I don’t have to fear water as much, I definitely intend to.
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I run out over the rocky earth. Away from the cliffs and away from the Titan’s path. This spear needs a test run and practice swings just aren’t doing it for .
I can feel so smaller critters hiding amongst the sandy shrubbery, but none are really worth hunting. Not enough of a challenge to even chase down. I’m sure there will be so sand crocs if I go searching, but I’m not all too interested in wasting hours flying around to find one of their nests. The only other creature that occurs with high frequency and yet might still pose a challenge is the colossal worm.
But to find one of those giant cousins of the sand-worm, I first have to find sand. Not this rocky expanse that covers the earth along the entire coastal cliff region.
I’ve left the fire going at the camp, so if those two need , they can easily let know. I take to the skies again, spear in talons. By the ti I reach sand, the Ember Moon is almost ready to make its appearance. The moon is dark, and I have no light besides my own to see. Fortunately, my candescent white fire lights anything I want. A dozen tiny jerboas scatter as their presence is revealed.
Sunken, discoloured patches of sand finally reveal the hunting grounds of a colossal-worm.
With hardly a thought, I send a fla over the surface and fry the fleeing jerboas. They don’t burn deep, just enough to kill. Walking amongst their corpses, I jab my spear into the bodies of each, letting their blood seep into the sand.
Colossal-worms, unlike their smaller cousins, do not hunt by sound, but scent.
I sit a few paces away. The feel of sand beneath my hands is so nostalgic. I scoop a handful and hold it up to my face. The grains slowly bubble as the heat increases. Eventually, they lt together into a viscous liquid that spreads between my fingers. The heat falls away, and the substance hardens.
Glass.
Dirty and not near as smooth as Mum’s pink fire orb, but I have made glass.
It is hard to think that the last ti I was here, the most I could do was burn through coal. Now, I’m able to do what only the elders of my tribe could. The heat required to lt sand into this smooth and shiny material is much greater than most could manage. Nothing less than the heat of white fire.
Elder Cyrus rarely showed the heat he could achieve, but creating glass was one of those things I could never forget. And now I can do it myself.
The colossal worm finally appears within my senses. Two hundred tres away and only a tre beneath the surface, the worm swims through the sand rapidly. Its form is fuzzy through the earth, but it holds enough heat that I can see it coming, at least until it dives deep into the sand a few dozen tres away.
Too much sand separates us, so I can’t feel it despite knowing it’s below . I rise to my feet and ready my spear, letting my hand pass around the glass that solidified over it.
The instant I feel the worm rushing to the surface, I rush forward. A small jet of fla boosts my speed. The colossal worm breaks the surface, swallowing the dead rodents in one gulp. My spear, bare of flas on its tip, slams into its side. The hard skin gives imnse resistance to my strength, but once the blade pierces through, it sinks deep into the worm. I tear the spear out as the worm falls back into its tunnel with a harrowing screech.
Colossal worms, contrary to what their appearance and massive size may lead one to believe, are scavengers. They do not hunt unless they already sll blood. They rely on the efforts of dingoes or fennec foxes to find prey. Unfortunately for said predators, the worms don’t discriminate on what they bite. If they haven’t finished their al before a colossal worm arrives, then they beco the al.
This is what I wanted; a creature to test my spear against. Sothing áed across the wasteland are wary of. The beast is huge, its width alone rivals my height, and yet I do not fear. After all the things I’ve seen and faced, a worm like this is nothing.
Colossal-worms are resistant to fire, and while I’d be interested to see whether mine can harm it, I’m here to test out my new spear.
The worm digs its way under the sand, kicking about tonnes of the grains as its heat becos obscured beneath the surface. The colossal worm I saw in the Void Fog could slide through the earth without a sound. Apparently, that was an ability bestowed by the Fog, rather than a natural capability of the species.
Patiently, I wait for the creature to make its reappearance. Angry things, they are. Hurt them once, and they won’t stop attacking until they have you in their stomach, or fall over dead. Well, that’s assuming one doesn’t find a cropping of rock to stand on, but out on the sand, they are unforgiving.
As expected, the heat of the worm appears right beneath my feet. I leap to the side while amplifying the weight in my arms and chest to bring down the spear with as much force as I can. The worm breaks the surface, shooting through the vacated space and my spear tip shears through its belly. Unlike my earlier thrust, it hardly sinks into the rock-like skin of the worm before the creature’s montum has it arcing through the air.
The colossal worm doesn’t slide into the sand like I rember the one in the Void Fog doing. Instead, it slams into the surface and spills an imnse wave of sand around it. The countless grains knock back and block my sight, but it’s not like it hurts.
When the worm cos for its next attack, it’s as simple as stepping back and jabbing forward. My spear pierces right through the skin deep cut of my last attack. If not for Bunny’s insistence to work on improving my balance whenever I had the opportunity, I never would have had the accuracy to hit the sa spot twice.
The worm growls. A deep rumble that would have petrified years ago. But not now. Not when this colossal worm doesn’t even co close to so of the beings I’ve seen. Beings I’ve fought. Killed even.
Giving up on its previous thod of attack, the worm swims half subrged in the sand toward . The wide, triple-jawed maw of the creature open and inviting as it tears through the sand.
Well, if you’re going to give an opportunity like that, how could I not oblige? I channel my flas into the spear and thrust forward. The spear strikes nothing other than air, but the lightless fla blasts forth from the tip, entering the worm’s massive mouth and having free rein to burn it from the inside.
The colossal-worm shrieks, but it does not stop. The flas inside its gullet burn, but nowhere near as quick as those with such imnse heat should. Colossal-worms’ heat resistance is no joke.
I go to dash to the side, out of the worm’s path, but the sand beneath my feet gives way. Instead of letting run from the creature, the disturbed grains below swallow my leg. Acting quick, I jab the spear between layers of teeth in the creature and push myself away, amplifying my speed with a burst of fire.
The worm crashes past , nearly ripping to shreds with those sharp teeth.
I really am too inexperienced with the spear. How could I not pay attention to my footing in such a crucial situation? Well, it’s a mistake I won’t make again. I don’t have all the ti in the world to drag on this fight, and I really should return to the others with enough ti to get a couple hours of rest. The Ember Moon already burns the night sky a deep shade of red.
The worm turns in the sand, rounding back toward , and I ready my spear. As it nears, I don’t run. I leap straight toward the creature. My chest scrapes along the top of its head as I pass over it, before I pump jets out my back and slam my spear down on the worm with my body mass as high as I can push it.
It screeches and bucks, but I hold firm to my spear lodged halfway through its body. The jagged movent and desperate attempts to throw off only spreads the damage as the spear-tip slices through its softer inner flesh.
My hands stay gripped to the spear even as the creature rolls through the sand. I’m montarily grateful I decided to don my more expendable pieces of clothing today, rather than the snowsuit Jav’s sisters fixed — again — before my trip. I’m pulled through the earth, along with the worm, but eventually my handhold dislodges.
I crawl my way back to the surface — thankfully only having been pulled a tre under — and ready myself for another attack. It cos nowhere near as fast as I expected. The injuries sustained by the worm clearly slowing it as it rises out from beneath again.
A thrust into the earth with all my strength pierces the creature before it can even breach the surface. I hold on to my spear as it carries into the air, forcing it ever deeper into the head of the worm. Its final, harrowing cry cuts off as it slams against the earth, unmoving.
Standing on the head of the fallen creature, I jerk my spear free. Blood coats the weapon, a far more viscous substance than that of eastern animals, but it burns off easily.
That felt good. No, that felt great! Only the best warriors amongst the áed tribes can beat a colossal-worm alone. I know my aunt could, as well as Mum and their elders. But the rest of the tribe? They wouldn’t think of it.
Now that I stand on the corpse of my defeated quarry, I have to wonder… What do I do with the body?
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