I didn't want to be a satellite.
"Alicia," I called out as we reached the exit. The city's night air was cold, but not as cold as the sinking feeling in my gut.
"Yes, Master?"
"Tomorrow, we depart again. But this time, the journey will be much further."
I reached into my dimensional bag. My fingers brushed against the cold surface of glass. Two jars. One was still tightly sealed, filled with dark coffee grounds—my reserve of sanity. The other was empty, the remnants of long nights spent staring up at the moon.
That empty jar.
It wasn't trash. It was a message.
"Where are we going, Master?" Alicia asked. Her voice trembled slightly, perhaps from the lingering aura of the Emperor, or perhaps because she could sense the tension in my muscles.
I looked toward the dark northern sky. Far away, beyond the desert and the forests, there was a place where time did not rot.
"To a place where you won't have to see blood."
Dawn had yet to touch the horizon when we stood at the edge of the desert.
The City of the Sun Prince lay behind us, a stone fortress that would soon become a crater of war.
An expanse of sand stretched out before us. Gray, dead, and vast.
There were no paths. No signs of life. Only the howling wind, carrying a fine dust that tasted like metal on the tongue.
I crouched down, turning my back to Alicia.
"Get on."
"Master..." Alicia hesitated. "I can walk. I don't want to be a burden..."
"We don't have time for a normal human's pace. And this desert..." I stared at the faintly shifting sand—the telltale sign of a slumbering sandworm. "This desert is hungry."
Alicia wrapped her arms around my neck. Her body was warm, a stark contrast to the biting desert air. Her physical weight was light, as light as cotton. Yet her existential weight—a life now resting entirely on my shoulders—felt heavier than steel armor.
I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the dense oxygen of this world.
The muscles in my legs coiled. My veins pulled taut.
"Hold on tight. Keep your eyes closed if you're prone to dizziness."
BOOM!
The ground beneath me exploded as I launched forward.
We weren't running. We were flying low, cleaving through the wind.
The scenery on either side blurred into abstract streaks of color. Sand dunes, rocky crags, monster carcasses—they all flashed by in the blink of an eye.
The wind rushing past my ears sounded like a scream of static.
Alicia buried her face in my back. Her grip tightened.
She was terrified. But she didn't make a sound.
I kept running.
Evading sandworm sinkholes with inhuman reflexes. Leaping across dry ravines. Ignoring the giant scorpions that tried to snap at my shadow.
They were too slow.
This world was too slow.
Only my mind raced.
A Dungeon Break... A minor apocalypse...
I wouldn't be able to protect Alicia in the middle of that storm.
I was a sword that needed to be swung freely. If I had to constantly hold onto a protective scabbard, I would dull. And a dull sword on the battlefield meant death.
The sun crawled to its highest peak. The desert heat began to bake our skin.
Grrrmbl...
The sound was faint, swallowed by the wind, but my ears caught it.
I slowed down. I reduced my speed gradually so as not to jar Alicia's internal organs.
We stopped in the shade of a large, jutting rock—the remnants of the ancient earth's ribcage.
I set Alicia down. Her face was pale, her hair disheveled by the wind, but her eyes were alive.
"I apologize, Master..." She held her stomach, her face flushing with embarrassment. "That noise was impolite..."
"It's a sign that you're alive. Never apologize for being hungry."
I pulled some rations from my dimensional bag. Hard bread and monster meat jerky. Simple. Efficient.
We ate in silence. Only the sound of chewing and the desert wind filled the air.
I took the empty glass jar out of the bag.
It reflected the glaring sunlight. Clear. Hollow.
I turned it over in my hands.
"Alicia."
She stopped chewing. "Yes, Master?"
"Our journey ends here."
Her eyes widened. The bread in her hand nearly slipped.
"You mean... Master is going to leave me in this desert?"
"No." I pointed forward. At the edge of the desert horizon, far beyond, lay a stark line of deep green. A different kind of forest. Gigantic trees that seemed to touch the sky. "That is the destination."
"What is that place?"
"An Elven village."
"But... why?"
I didn't answer. I stood up, dusting the crumbs off my pants.
"Come on. Just a little further."
We resumed our journey. This time I walked, letting Alicia catch her breath.
Late afternoon approached. The sky bled into a canvas of bruised orange.
We arrived at the border.
The forest greeted us with a dense wall of trees. The air changed instantly—from dry, dusty heat to a cool, damp breeze scented with ancient blooms.
The sound of the wind was different here. It didn't howl; it whispered.
I stopped right in front of a natural gate—two trees entwined to form an archway.
"Put down your bag, Alicia."
She obeyed, placing her small bag of clothes on the mossy ground. She looked up at me, waiting for her next instruction, as always.
But this next instruction would shatter our routine.
"From now on, you will live in this village."