The Storm's Arrival

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the world grew hotter by the second. 

The dry air wrapped around them like a suffocating blanket, and sweat began to bead on Kael's forehead, dripping down his face in a steady stream. 

The wasteland had been harsh enough under the cover of night, but now, with the full force of daylight bearing down on them, it felt unbearable.

Glancing back at the others, Kael saw the toll it was taking. Their movements had slowed, their shoulders slumped with exhaustion. 

Lucian wiped a hand across his brow, leaving behind streaks of dirt and dried blood. 

Elysia adjusted the strap of her pack for the hundredth time, her breath coming out in uneven gasps. 

Even Tuck, who had carried himself with such steady confidence before, now trudged forward with effort, his face red from the heat.

The outside world was nothing like the cool caverns of the mines. Down there, the air had been thick with dust, but the stone walls had always provided a reprieve from the worst of the heat. Even after hours of labor, the rock had remained cool beneath their fingertips. 

Out here, there was no such comfort. The cracked earth beneath their feet radiated heat like the surface of a forge, and the very air they breathed felt dry enough to scrape against their throats.

"We need to find cover," he said finally, his voice rough. "Somewhere to rest, at least until the worst of the heat passes."

"Where?" Elysia asked, her voice edged with frustration. "There's nothing but sand and rock as far as the eye can see."

Kael didn't have an answer. But they couldn't keep walking like this—not with their limited supply of water, not under this relentless sun. If they pushed too hard, people would start collapsing. 

And if that happened, they might not get back up.

Kael squinted. There was something there, on the horizon. A long black line had appeared. At first, he thought it was a trick of the heat, another illusion born from exhaustion. 

But as he wiped the sweat from his brow and looked again, the line remained. 

This was no mirage. 

"Do you see that?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the dry air.

Elysia, dragging herself forward with slow, heavy steps, followed his gaze. Her breath hitched. "A forest?" she murmured, almost afraid to believe it.

Lucian shaded his eyes with a trembling hand. "Trees mean shade… maybe water."

A spark of hope rippled through the group. The miners, who had been trudging forward with lowered heads and slack limbs, began to stir.

Tuck nodded approvingly. "If there's trees, there's life. If there's life, we might have a chance."

They trudged on for another few hours. The wind was beginning to pick up now, and Kael embraced the coolness. 

There had been a sudden shift in the air the past few minutes, and the wind carried a scent Kael was unfamiliar with.

He stopped in his tracks, glancing up at the sky. 

Dark clouds began to gather, rolling in from the east. The brilliant purple sky was quickly being swallowed by a deep, menacing gray. 

"What is that?" Kael asked.

"Storm," Tuck muttered. "Water pours down from the skies in droves. It'll turn this parched land into a swamp in a matter of hours."

Before long, rain was pouring around them. Elysia somehow led the pack now, carrying her supply bag over her head. 

Kael's breath felt scattered and forced, and his chest ached with pain. The forest was much more in sight now. They had less than a kilometer to go.

He glanced back at the others. Tuck had fallen to the very back, his run now a hobbled limp. 

A flash of light caught Kael's attention, and he looked to the blackened sky. A jagged bolt raced across the clouds, and a moment later it was gone. 

A moment later, a rumble followed, and Kael felt his muscles tense. The sky was very angry. 

The forest was close now—so close Kael could make out the jagged edges of the trees, their blackened trunks twisting like skeletal fingers. Another flash of lightning revealed more: dense undergrowth, tangled branches, and dancing shadows beneath the canopy.

They were nearly there. They had to make it.

*******

The god of the forest watched as the trespassers entered his kingdom. 

They were soaked from the rain, their clothes clinging to their bodies, weighed down by exhaustion. Some were limping, others clutching wounds, their blood mixing with the damp earth beneath them.

A battle.

His nostrils flared as he inhaled, the scent of sweat, steel, and suffering carried on the wind. 

The forest whispered to him, the trees groaning under the weight of the storm, the underbrush rustling with unseen movement. 

The rain poured in relentless sheets beyond the canopy, but here, under the thick weave of branches and leaves, only a fine mist trickled down. His home was untouched. Undisturbed.

Until now. 

He scratched his head, sitting down on a twisted branch nearly twenty meters up. 

Droplets of rain fell from the leaves around him, but the cover above was enough to shield his home from the majority of the storm.

"Intruders must be eradicated," he muttered, his eyes following the group as they plunged into the forest. 

The god's long limbs tensed as he straightened. 

The moss-covered bark beneath his feet pulsed with energy, the very forest itself responding to his will. 

Vines slithered along the ground like serpents, waiting. The wind shifted, carrying his whispers through the branches, unseen eyes opening in the shadows.

This was his domain. This was his world. 

And they did not belong here.