CHAPTER SEVEN: CHASED BY SWALLOWING SANDS

The dry, clean air reinforced the heat. The bluish tint approaching the horizon complimented the shape of the dunes. She was thirsty but she was almost at a landmark. The water mirages attempted to fool her; but what she desired was not water but stone. The stone that might save her people. As she trudged through the waves of sand, the heat seemed to bother her less. Her clothes were suited for this journey. The boots she stole from the outpost did a good job of letting minimal sand in. As well as everything else she borrowed. The satchel at her side was one of those borrowed items. In it, her map, her survival.

A few minutes of walking and our stranger gets to some ruins. She looked around, trying to evaluate whether she was in the right place or she had missed her mark. She takes off her hood and drops her mask as the hot air rushes to her flush cheeks. Her brown hair flowing like water from a stream. Her red eyes focused on the map and her hands made markings. She dropped her satchel and looked around. There were inscriptions on the walls. Drawings. Symbols. She couldn't read them. She had no idea what they were. What she did know was that images usually played charades. A specific mural caught her eye. In it, a crown, glistening in all its glory. People seemed to run away from the crown, although some of them had turned into skeletons. One particular stick figure seemed to beckon the crown or its unreadable power.

What bothered her most in that mural was the stick figure. Everyone else seemed to run away from this strange power, and doing so turned them to skeletons. Death. She whispered to herself. She continues walking around the temple and comes across another mural. This one she knew. She ran back to her satchel and brought back a scroll containing the same mural. Soul Arts. A magical method to burn souls for unimaginable power. But what did the soul arts have to do with the crown?

It was then that she realized that the symbols on the walls were a map themselves. The map led to a chamber deep inside the temple, a chamber that was said to contain a powerful artifact that could save her people. The crown.

With a new sense of purpose, the stranger followed the map through the temple, avoiding traps and deciphering clues along the way. Finally, she reached the chamber and saw the crown. It was made of pure gold and glimmered in the dim light. As she approached it, she felt a strange energy emanating from it. She hesitated for a moment, remembering the stick figure in the mural and the warning it seemed to give. But her people needed this artifact, and she knew that she had to take the risk. She reached out and touched the crown, and as she did, she felt a surge of power flow through her body.

As she made her way back through the temple, she knew that her life would never be the same. The power she had gained would come at a cost, but it was a cost she was willing to pay to save her people. She felt the weight of the crown on her head. The power she had gained from the artifact was immense, but it also came with a terrible price. She knew that the soul arts were forbidden, and the energy flowing through her felt dark and dangerous. But people were dying, and she had no other choice. She had to use the power of the crown to save them.

As she emerged from the temple, she saw the blinding sun setting on the horizon, casting long shadows across the sand dunes. The air was growing colder, and she knew that she needed to hurry. She had to get back to her village before it was too late. She ran as fast as she could, her boots kicking up sand behind her. But as she crested a dune, she saw a sight that made her heart sink.

A massive sandstorm was approaching, blotting out the sun and turning the sky a sickly orange hue. She knew that she couldn't outrun the storm, so she took cover behind a nearby rock formation. The wind howled around her, sending stinging sand against her skin. She wrapped herself in her cloak and held onto the crown tightly. The storm lasted for what felt like an eternity. When it finally subsided, the stranger emerged from her hiding place to a world that had been changed. The landscape was unrecognizable, the sand dunes flattened and rearranged. She had no idea which direction she needed to go. She started to make her way through the new terrain, but it wasn't long before she realized that something was wrong. Her vision was starting to blur, and she felt a dryness in her throat that wouldn't go away.

She hadn't done anything except wear the crown and now it was consuming her from the inside. She stumbled forward, desperate to make it back to her village. But as she walked, she heard a low rumbling noise that grew louder and louder. She turned to see a giant sand worm emerging from the ground, its gaping maw opening wide to swallow the temple whole. She watched in horror as the temple, and all her hard work, was devoured by the worm. She had risked everything for the crown, and now it was gone. But she had no time to grieve. The sand worm was making its way towards her, and she knew that she was next. Kaiju…Ouroboros …you chase me even now ...

She closed her eyes and waited for the end, but it never came. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a bed surrounded by her people. They had found her, half-buried in the sand, and brought her back to the village she had gotten gear from. They had tended to her wounds and nursed her back to health. But she knew that things would never be the same. She had used that power, and it had consumed a piece of her. She had lost the crown, and with it, any hope of saving her people. The stranger knew that she had to leave the village, to wander the desert alone and try to find a way to reverse the damage she had done. She had to try to make things right, no matter what the cost. And so, she set out once again into the unforgiving desert, with nothing but her wits and her determination to guide her.