Desert Cave

Another hour crept by as the desert seemed to tighten its grip around them, yet the group pressed on. With the sun blazing overhead, Roy guided everyone toward a rugged stretch of terrain where jagged outcrops and sharp ridges tore through the sand. The wind picked up, howling fiercely and whipping sand into their faces, causing the crowd to slow as they shielded their stinging eyes with cloth and hands.

Eventually, the path veered towards a towering cliff face, its surface deeply etched and cracked by centuries of relentless, sand gusts. Ahead, a dark cavern yawned wide, its entrance marked by the smooth, polished edges sculpted by countless winds and storms.

Stepping into the cavern, they were greeted by a tranquil, otherworldly glow. Soft amber light spilled through scattered openings above, casting beams that illuminated the space. The walls rose high, elegantly carved into sweeping arches that resembled the skeletal remains of an enormous beast.

"Alright, let's rest for an hour here," Roy announced, his voice echoing gently against the stone. A collective sigh of relief swept through the group, followed by cheers as they settled down to enjoy the brief respite.

The Nuya people settled down with the Unicol, letting the children and elders dismount first before moving to the rock floor. Some sighed at the coolness and dimness, then lightly growled as children gently rubbed their clothes on them.

The adults unhooked leather waterskins from their belts and passed them first to the children. Small hands clutched the skins tightly, sipping the cool liquid with joy. A father cradled his son's Boris face gently as he held the waterskin to his lips, and Boris smiled with gratitude. Evan gave Kali a bit before she pushed it back and told him to pass some to Hily, the elder woman she rode with, making him chuckle.

After this, they passed it to the Elders who received the next drink, some leaning against the cold rocks, their eyes fatigued. Amelia drank a little bit before gently lifting Kyros chin up and giving him some to drink, ignoring his protest that he can do it himself. Only after all others had drink did the adults take their own share.

Iran, perched on a chunk of fossilized something, let the waterskin swing gently between his knees. "What do you think? Everyone seems to be holding up well." He spoke quietly, and passed the waterskin to Roy, who sat beside Lorian.

Roy took the skin with a sigh, uncapped it and let the water run over his teeth before swallowing. "I'm thankful they are," he said, voice soft. "But the journey will get harder." He looked first at Lorian, then at Selene, and then at the group of elders who leaned against each other, their faces pale.

"Even more so when night begins approaching," Lorian said, reaching for the waterskin as Roy handed it down the line. He drank with small, measured sips and then passed it to Selene.

"That's worrying. Anything we can do to not worry them?" Phil asked in worry, her eyes glancing at the children. Their laughter echoed faintly as they chased golden beams slicing down from the ceiling cracks.

Selene rested her elbows on her knees, hands folded, eyes fixed on the cool stone beneath her. "Our words can lift them up," she answered quietly, "but as night approaches, they lose their weight. Soon enough, they're nothing more than promises we can't keep." She passed the waterskin to Uro, without looking up.

A hush fell. The children's distant giggles faded, replaced by the low hum of wind threading through the cavern arches.

Anna cradled her face in her hands, elbows pressed deep into her thighs. "And the last thing we need now is for our words to become empty," she murmured, exhaustion pulling her voice thin. Beside her, Silis scuffed at the sand flecks on his boots, jaw working soundlessly as he searched for something to say.

The two duos had argued all morning, but now their quarrel was muted by exhaustion and an unspoken, mutual dread.

Silis finally broke the quiet, chewing at the inside of his cheek. "Is heading to a town near the Rolay border really our best option?" He pitched his question up the line, voice barely above a whisper. "Couldn't we try one of the smaller villages instead?"

"There's no way they can accommodate, let alone hold over sixty people," Louise said lightly, almost as if it were a relief to say something with certainty. 

Anna sighed, the sound echoing faintly in the vaulted space. "And we'd only be putting more strain on people who are already stretched thin. You know how hard it is for a town or village to absorb survivors after—" She hesitated, the word catching in her throat. "After something like this."

Silis fell silent, shoulders folding in on themselves.

From the far edge of the group, one of the Silvian Outlaws let out a shuddering breath. "I still remember it. The crushed houses… blood pooling among the rubble." Her hands clenched white around her knees, knuckles trembling. For a heartbeat, everyone's gaze dropped to the dust, each one seeing their own memory in the silence.

Riley, who had kept to himself since their arrival, pressed his hand over his mouth as if to stifle memory. His eyes caught Lorian's for an instant before darting away. "I remember one town… Kua Town. It was ravaged by a beast tide yet screams and cries could still be heard. When we went to check…" Riley's voice trembled in the middle, then steadied. "I saw a man, his entire half of his body was crushed. I can't imagine the pain he was in."

The Silvian Outlaws all began falling silent as Riley told his story, their expression turning into grimace. Lorian begins to piece together that they also must have seen some stuff, and the story was bringing up stuff they rather forget. 

As Riley spoke, a hush swept over the Silvian Outlaws. Faces turned grim, shadows deepening in the hollows of their eyes. Lorian realized, watching them, that each one was fighting their own memories, the kind that refused to stay buried.

He looked back at Riley and saw the tension in his clenched fist, knuckles bloodless. All across the group, the other Ascendants met Riley's gaze, drawn into the orbit of his words.

Riley exhaled shakily, then pressed on. "The man, when he saw me. His purple eyes lit up and when I expected him to ask me to save him… All he asked was to check on his child. It was a little boy, the man had him hide in the building when the beast's tide came rushing. He didn't care about his current state, only that his son was alright." Riley slowly drags a hand over his face as he releases a breath. "I went to check in the building… I froze and then turned around, heading towards the man. When he asked about his child, I said the boy was fine and I would take him somewhere safe… And then the man gave a smile before dying… I—" His voice cracked and faded. "I don't know if I did the right thing, telling him that."

For a long moment, the only sound was the wind, teenagers talking and children laughter through the cavern.

"You did," Roy said, quietly but fiercely. His voice, soft as the drifting dust, cut through the heaviness. He lifted his head from the stone slab, gaze locking with Riley's. "You gave him hope, right when he needed it most. That's what matters. That's all any of us can do."

The silence that followed was not awkwardness but a slow, collective exhalation. A permission for everyone presents to admit that, yes, it was all too much. And that solace came not in grand victories but in the singular, desperate act of kindness.

Lorian let Roy's words linger in the air, their weight palpable, before he gently shifted his focus. "With the Guardian Tome for Nuya gone, I suppose you'll need to acquire a new one?" he inquired, his voice calm yet concerned.

Phil, who had been trailing the conversation with dull, unfocused eyes, nodded slowly, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "Without it, it's just a matter of time before something attacks again," she murmured, her words barely rising above the soft hum of the wind. Her gaze dropped to the stone at her feet, as if she were confiding in the dust. And the shifting shadows rather than the people around her. "It's a cycle, isn't it? Lose a town, flee with the Guardian, find shelter in some temporary refuge. Rebuild, plant the Guardian, and eventually, wait for disaster to strike again."

Her voice faded into the cavern's hush, leaving a chill in its wake. Lorian felt the truth of her words settle through the group, a familiar ache. He looked around at the faces illuminated by shafts of golden light, the tired parents, the vigilant elders, the children still running shadows.

Lorian remained silent, the harsh reality of Phil's words resonating like the relentless sun over the desert's vast expanse. Every town and village in Activia, indeed throughout the entire Anisa Desert, had endured the scourge of catastrophe. Homes were ravaged, lives sometimes lost, and the people were perpetually driven to relocate. Until another healthy magic Ley Lines can be found to rebuild the town or village on it.

These Ley Lines were the lifeblood of the desert, enabling crops and vegetation to thrive against the odds. The magic from Cosmo coursed through the roots of these plants, enhancing their growth and fortifying their contents. It was the reason why the inhabitants of the world were notably robust and healthier than what normally should be. As again, they didn't do any work out or training to further improve their body. 

Uro broke the somber silence with a practical sigh. "It shouldn't be hard to get a replacement," he offered, the words a thin comfort. "Activia will provide one if you mention it in the letter. When the Chu and Orca Warriors come to rebuild, they'll bring a Guardian Tome."

"That's true... Still, it will feel surreal not to see that one anymore," Phil remarked with a chuckle, though her eyes reflected a lingering wistfulness.

"More like making us feel we're stepping into a new era," Lula lightly laughed, her gaze brimming with nostalgia. "My grandmother used to tell us how Nuya had that skull for decades, stretching all the way back to the Founding Emperor Era."

Louise blinked in surprise, his tone incredulous. "It survived for that long?"

Roy chuckled, nodding in affirmation. "Kyros and Amelia can vouch for this. But yes, that skull has been with Nuya since its inception. Every time a disaster struck, the people and watchguards would ensure it was carried away to safety."

Uro hummed thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "I'm guessing the elders aren't making a fuss because..."

"They understand the circumstances and recognize that now isn't the appropriate time. Though the Guardian Tome holds significance, the lives of people are always the priority," Lula remarks with a gentle laugh.

Anna, who had remained silent since her previous outburst, fiddled with a loose thread on her sleeve. "We had a Guardian in my village, but it was a small one. Our village was tiny, so there wasn't a need for a larger Guardian. Besides, it would have been difficult to relocate it during a disaster... Still, I recall how the sky's color would change as you approached a town with a bigger Guardian. It was incredible."

The water skin made its way around the group again, and they settled into a comfortable flow of quiet conversation.

Occasionally, someone would glance at the stone arch outside, as if to ensure it hadn't disappeared or wasn't a mirage ready to vanish in the heat.