Bad dream, worse Kin

He turned away from Ashell's domain, letting his consciousness return to the present. His body still ached, but the cave felt a little less suffocating now. He knew they had a brief respite, but they couldn't stay long.

As night fell, the desert's temperature dropped drastically. Kin shivered, pulling his tattered cloak tighter around himself. Jamila still hadn't woken, and Kin worried about what had happened to her. Jirbad's presence had done something to her, something beyond physical harm. He had felt it too—the crushing weight of the giant's aura, the oppressive force that made it hard to even breathe. But while Kin had managed to push through it, Jamila had been knocked out cold.

Kin glanced down at her, biting his lip. He wished he could do more for her, but right now, all he could do was protect her. They still had a long way to go to reach the Whispering Mountains, and with Jirbad—or worse, Jai—potentially on their trail, there was no guarantee they would make it.

He stood up, pacing the small cave. His mind raced, replaying the events of the last few days. Everything had happened so fast. One moment, they were safe in Bintan, and the next, they were on the run, hunted like animals.

He clenched his fists, anger boiling up inside him. He hated feeling powerless. For all the strength Ashell's curse had given him, it wasn't enough. He wasn't enough. How was he supposed to protect Jamila, let alone himself, if he couldn't even stand against Jirbad?

Kin's thoughts drifted back to Rashid. The Sulten had entrusted Jamila to him, given him the map to the Whispering Mountains. But was that really enough? Kin had no idea what awaited them there. Rashid had said it would be safe, but Kin knew better than to trust anyone completely. Everyone had their own agenda, and he wouldn't be surprised if Rashid had left out some crucial detail.

Still, it was their only chance.

Kin knelt down beside Jamila again, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Her breathing was steady, but she was still pale. He hoped she would wake soon. They needed to keep moving before someone—or something—found them.

He leaned back against the cave wall, exhaustion finally catching up to him. His eyes fluttered shut, and sleep began to pull him under.

Kin's sleep was restless, plagued by a dream—not just any dream—a dream of fire and darkness. He stood in Ashell's forge, surrounded by flames that burned hotter and brighter than before. The flames were ever-powerful, but they didn't scorch his skin. Kin tried to move—after all, this was Ashell's domain, he was not a stranger here—but he found he couldn't move, a feeling that left a bitter taste in his mind. He was trapped, frozen in place as the flames licked at his body.

Someone stood before him. At first, he thought it was Ashell—or maybe it was. Kin could make out the fiery red horn he recognized too well, the long golden hair, whose end he had never seen before—all features belonging to Ashell. But at the same time, he felt that someone else stood before him. Her eyes stared at the skies of the domain with intensity.

"You're not ready," she said, her voice echoing through the forge. "You draw on my power, but you do not understand it. You are weak, Kin. And weakness will get you killed."

Kin tried to speak, but the flames stole his voice. His chest tightened, panic rising in his throat. The flames surged higher, swallowing him whole, and all he could hear was Ashell's voice—no, it was someone else's voice.

"Is it mocking me? Taunting me? Or was it warning me?" Kin thought.

"You will burn, Kin. You will burn if you do not learn. Your power resides for nothing," the voice said.

With a gasp, Kin woke, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow. The cave was silent, save for the soft sound of Jamila's breathing. The dream had felt so real. It was as if he had really lived through it. He remembered everything that had just happened, and the feeling of fear and panic still lingered in his being.

He thought back to the words he heard, especially the final phrase: "Your power resides for nothing."

"What does that even mean?" Kin thought. "Am I doing all this for nothing? Even with Ashell's help, will everything be for nothing? How will I survive without her help? How will I survive without her power?"

Many questions weighed on Kin's mind, but his thoughts were interrupted by Jamila's voice.

"Ashin…" she called out.

"You're finally awake, my lady," Kin turned to her. "And I believe I told you my name is not Ashin," Kin added.

He was about to say something else when Jamila suddenly jumped at him and hugged him.

"I thought we would die there! How did you do it? How did we escape? I was so scared," she said, her voice cracking each time.

Kin was surprised by what she had done, but he simply replied, "I promised your father I'd take care of you."

"You don't have to worry about anything."

After a while, Jamila let go, and they were finally able to eat something before setting out again. Their provisions were lost when they tried to escape Jirbad, so they had to opt for hunting instead, which Kin was getting better at after learning the hard way how to survive without the fancy palace cooks and help. The meat he caught was well cut and gutted, but Kin still had a long way to go when it came to actually cooking the damned thing.

After they ate, they set out on their way to the Whispering Mountains. The journey across the dersert was going to be perilous and dangerous. Not only did they have to worry about bandits and criminals, but they also had to be careful not to wander into a beast's nest. That would be a dangerous situation indeed.

As they both moved across the desert, Kin stared at the map while Jamila crept behind him—a rather strange character, Kin thought, but he didn't dislike the silence.

Kin's feet were starting to hurt from the burning sands, and it seemed like they were getting hungrier as noon approached. Suddenly, Kin heard the steps of something or someone approaching and he stopped in his tracks. At first, he thought they might be travelers, but then he remembered—no one was supposed to be passing through such a dangerous place that led to another dangerous place like the Whispering Mountains.

He took a deep breath and asked Jamila to go and hide herself while he dealt with their coming visitors.

she didn't argue much and went on to keep out of sight as much as she could, given their location.

As he was about to get ready, Ashell's sweet voice rang in his ears.

"Are you going to fight?"

"Ashell, you're awake. I was beginning to think you were being lazy..."

"Who are you calling lazy, you imp?"

"Now, now, can you afford to be angry? We don't want you using up too much energy and passing out for half a day again," Kin mocked.

"You…!" Ashell wanted to reply, but the men were already on them, each riding a drasnel.

Immediately they all saw Kin, One of them brought out a paper and looked at the image. He saw that the person he was staring at was not the same as the one in the drawing he was holding.

Kin sensed their confusion and sighed deeply. "I really need to update my pictures and images. Those old ones are no longer applicable," he thought.

The breeze grew intense around them, and dust arose all around them. The tension—or confusion—was growing.

After a while, the leader of the group finally spoke.

"Who are you, and why are you on this road?" the man asked.

Kin raised his hands for a second as if telling the man to wait. The action infuriated him, but before he could lash out, Kin let out a loud sneeze.

"It seems someone is talking about me," Kin said, ignoring the men staring at him.

"You are supposed to be dead," Ashell replied.

"I know, but it feels like death is searching for me," Kin said.

"I hope it finds you on time. That way, I get to go home," Ashell said.

Kin turned to the men staring at him with a deathly gaze and spoke.

"Remind me again, how did I get here?" Kin asked lazily.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Kin said, his voice turning cold. "The point now is that only one of you gets to go back to your master and tell him that the Prince of Wize is alive—and that the images you have of him are out of date."