Theory (1)

An hour slipped by, and the group began preparing to move again. The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows as the clock edged toward 6 p.m. Deciding to spend the night in the graveyard, they knew they had to venture deeper to find a suitable spot for their camp.

Lorian stopped in his tracks, breath catching as he looked out across the graveyard. The place seemed endless, stretching farther than he could see. Even from where he stood, the size of it was too big for the mind to truly grasp. Towering bones, half-buried in rolling dunes, rose up like ancient pillars. Their long, curved shadows spilled across the sand as the sun sank lower in the sky. Some skulls, worn and cracked with age, stared upward in silent defiance, their empty eyes fixed on the fading light.

All around, pale bones poked out of the sand like broken spears or the remnants of some forgotten age. They were silent reminders that these creatures had once walked beneath this same sky, alive and wild.

A hot, dusty wind whipped through the graveyard, tugging at Lorian's worn cloak and sending his platinum blond hair fluttering. The air tasted of grit and sun-baked stone, making his throat dry. He paused, letting the wind push him gently forward, as if even the desert wanted him to keep moving.

He glanced back at the Nuya people behind him. They shuffled forward, tired and quiet. Even the loudest children had lost their voices, holding their parents' hands tight. Some stared around with wide, frightened eyes, while a few, the braver and more curious took in the sights with a kind of desperate wonder. The adults and teens looked hollowed out, their faces pale and drawn after all they'd been through.

Ahead, the graveyard spread out like a vast field of skeletons. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of massive remains dotted the landscape. Some bones were almost swallowed by the sand, half-hidden like ghosts. Others stuck up tall and proud, like the towers of a ruined city. The sunlight made the bones glow, their surfaces almost white, shaped into strange, twisting forms by time.

Lorian's eyes sparkled with wonder, for seeing this was far more breathtaking than hearing tales or reading accounts. He gazed upon rib cages taller than houses, fangs as long as full-grown men, and vertebrae resembling columns fallen from ancient, forgotten ruins.

He picked his way around a set of thick, plate-like bones as wide as a road, then ducked beneath an arching rib so large it made a cool pocket of shade beneath it. Behind him, the others followed teens weaving between bones as thick as tree trunks, adults picking their steps carefully, gripping each other's arms for balance.

The graveyard narrowed ahead, pressing them into a sort of valley. Ribs rose on both sides, crowding together, making the group feel small and closed in. Here, the bones were crammed together so tightly it seemed the earth itself had given up trying to bury them, instead pushing them out in tangled, jagged layers.

The crunch of footsteps on bone fragments punctuated the silence. No chatter, no distant roars, only the eerie sigh of air whispering through ribs.

…

Roy led the way at the front, his crimson scarf flapping behind him like a torn banner caught in the breeze. With each step, he acted as their guide through the desolate graveyard. He paused before an enormous spine that arched across a craggy gully, its bones fused together over time and pressure, resembling the fragmented remains of a bridge or a cliff shaped in a descending arc.

Roy paused at its entrance, gestured for the group to gather, and explained the plan in a voice low and steady. They would move in single file, holding hands where possible, keeping eyes forward and feet firmly planted; the bridge was sturdy, but the wind had worn its surface down.

"We'll use this," Roy said, his voice low. "It'll take us further."

Lorian followed close behind as the group began their careful descent onto the massive spine. It curved above the ravine, connecting two plateaus like a ghostly bridge. The scale of it struck him again, the bones wider than trees, their surfaces riddled with dust and cracks. As the sun slipped toward the horizon, slender shafts of amber light pierced the gaps between bones, casting long, trembling shadows across the curved ramp.

Crossing the ancient bone bridge took every ounce of courage the group had left. Children clung tightly to the elders, their small hands gripping wrinkled arms as the Unicols carried them slowly downward. The descent was steep, and the bridge formed from the fused spine of a beast creaked beneath their weight.

Halfway across, several people paused. Some risked a glance over the side. Instantly, a chorus of gasps broke the heavy silence, sharp and startled.

Lorian followed their gaze and felt his own breath catch. The ravine below was filled with smaller bones, curled and twisted around one another. Some bones spiraled upward in delicate towers; others formed strange, box-like cages of limbs and skulls. Dozens of tiny skeletons lay scattered through the hollow, each one unique. Between the bones, wild blue flowers bloomed, their petals glowing with the colors of sunset. Butterflies and shimmering beetles clung to the blossoms, their wings catching the last light of day.

"Oddly beautiful," Lorian whispered. The adults and teenagers nodded in agreement, their faces full of awe and disbelief.

For a moment, everyone stopped to admire the secret garden hidden in the graveyard's heart. The children pointed and whispered, inventing stories about the little beasts who might have lived here, and what they dreamed of in their final moments.

The Unicols finally made their way down, their eyes sparkling in delight as if this place was amazing or special to them.

Back on the steep slope, the Silvian outlaws turned to help the rest of Nuya's people. Phil, Lula, and Iran hurried up and down the bone bridge, steadying adults and teenagers who struggled for balance. They offered hands and quiet encouragement, making sure no one slipped.

The older members were the most winded, their legs shaky from the sustained effort of the mad dash. Even the younger ones, not much different in age than Louise, struggled to keep their balance on the steep descent.

Many adults and teenagers managed to make it down to the spine by themselves.

Once there, they turned around to help others down, creating a chain of support that moved methodically down the massive frame. They worked in silence, fearing any noise might disrupt the rhythm, until everyone had reached the safety of the lower area.

Here, Roy called for a rest, and the Nuya survivors collapsed gratefully onto banks of soft sand and bone. Some unpacked what little food remained, passing rationed water skins and honeyed bread from hand to hand. Others simply lay back, staring up at the interlocking ribs overhead, finding faces and monsters in their shadows.

For a time, nothing happened; they simply rested and breathed and listened to the sound of the wind through the skulls.

Lorian found himself drifting away from the main group, drawn by a sound. Selene joined him, walking silently by his side. She didn't speak, simply observing as he ran his fingers over the smooth tooth of a jawbone. Her presence was comforting, requiring no words.

"I find it odd... Despite the abundance of bones, there's no Beast Convergence... It's as if—" Lorian's brows knitted together in confusion.

"Perhaps the graveyard follows different rules outside the desert? Or maybe the Beast Convergence only occurs when beasts are slain, rather than dying naturally?" Selene suggested, prompting Lorian to nod slowly.

When Lorian read about the Beast Graveyard in books, he was puzzled as to why the bones never attempted to merge and create a terrifying entity. The sheer number of bones here was believed to reach into the millions, possibly even billions. Such an absurd figure left scholars and researchers feeling a mix of awe and dread. All understood that if a Beast Convergence ever happened in the graveyard, a fearsome creature could emerge, capable of toppling cities and empires.

This is why it was advised. No, strictly forbidden to kill a beast tide near the graveyard. They feared the convergence might pull the graveyard's bones towards it. They worried it might create a Legendary Ascendant. This fear was not unfounded, as it only required over ten thousand dead beasts' skeletons to form a Master Ascendant.

Now imagine what would be created from millions, or close to a billion bones.

"If it's the former, why does the graveyard exist? And if it's the latter, what are the reasons?" Lorian pondered, rubbing his chin. "Is it because when they're killed, only anger and rage remain, leading to convergence?"

"Or maybe it's the desire to keep fighting," Selene suggested, causing Lorian to blink and nod, as that seemed reasonable.

The sky was almost dark when Roy rallied the group again and signaled for the final push. Without delay, they continued moving deeper into the graveyard, eager to find shelter before night fell.

Lorian, trailing slightly behind as he took in the vastness around them, couldn't help but voice his thoughts.

"Was it like this when you guys traveled to the graveyards in the past?" Golden eyes moved from one colossal skeleton to the next, each casting its massive shadow over the group. He was struck by it all, the landscape dotted with bones that seemed to reach endlessly toward the sky.

"It was similar," Uro answered, considering their past experiences with a thoughtful caress of his chin. "But the graveyard north of Ortiva had vastly smaller bones and skeletons. There were only a few massive ones, which could be counted on two hands."

Lorian blinked in surprise. "Huh? It looks like it's the opposite here." His eyes scanned the horizon, quick to note the sea of giant remains.

"It seems each graveyard has a different skeleton structure," Selene added softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her violet-crimson eyes stared into the distance, as if absorbing the sight anew. "The graveyard west of Activia City was an equal mix of massive and small bones. What was even odder was that one half was pure giant bones and the other half was small ones."

"That's… The theory about something being special about the foundation of these graveyards might hold a lot more weight," Lorian muttered, leading the other two to nod in agreement. "Does each graveyard have something unique about it?"

"They should," Uro replied, recalling their travels to distant lands. "But the oddest one has to be near Lush City. Even without going inside, you can see that all the bones are blackened." His brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of it. "The blackening seems to turn the bones into a different material, but they still act like bones."

"Sounds like a completely different phenomenon," Selene mused, intrigued by the mystery that surrounded each peculiar graveyard.