The moon slowly finished its path, bathing the residence in a cold light.
I had left Pedro and Bruno not long ago, but I wasn't alone yet.
In the common room, my Aurora allies had gathered too, each dealing with insomnia in their own way.
Elias, methodical, was taking care of his sword. Every movement was precise, almost mechanical. His blade reflected the light from the fireplace.
— Hot climates are really the worst, he said nervously. It'll be us, the sand… and the sun.
Asha, standing a bit aside, was striking the air with her halberd, testing how smooth her movements were. Her serious face showed her concentration.
— If we can't survive that, we might as well give up everything. Stop whining, Elias, and get ready like a real warrior.
She clearly liked hearing herself talk, but her confidence spread to all of us.
Lyra, sitting near the fire, was gently running her hand along her staff. Her lips were moving, but not to pray this time. She was whispering:
— I'll hold on… I'll hold on…
Her eyes met mine, and she gave a small, fragile smile.
— If you fall, I'll bring you back. Like always.
Dorian, finally, was lying on the table, his arms behind his head. He was whistling badly, then stopped to say:
— I just hope that in the desert, we'll at least find a bar. Because honestly… I'm already thirsty just thinking about it.
His jokes weren't funny, but they reminded us of one thing: as long as he was joking, we could keep going without worrying too much.
I looked at them one by one.
We were five tired shadows, unprepared, too young.
But it wasn't just me against the world anymore, we would be five against the desert.
And that was enough.
On the morning of departure, Aurora echoed with three loud strikes.
The sound rolled through the arches, cold and merciless.
We crossed the gates again, escorted by a silent mentor like for the swamp, but the air itself already felt drier, heavier.
The journey lasted two days.
The green hills disappeared. The ground became rocky, cracked, and then there was only sand.
A golden and black ocean stretched as far as the eye could see. The dunes moved like frozen waves. The sun wasn't just heat: it was a hammer, hitting nonstop.
Every step drained our strength. Sweat burned our eyes. Our throats dried too fast, even with water.
Dorian complained every ten minutes.
— Seriously… who had the idea of sending kids to play archaeologists in a furnace?
Asha, relentless, kept moving forward without slowing down, her eyes fixed on the horizon.
— If you don't have any energy left, shut up. Save it for walking.
Elias, in the center, led the group with discipline. He counted our steps, measured our breaks, refused to let one of us collapse.
Lyra suffered in silence, her lips cracked, her cheeks red from the sun, but every time we stopped she placed her trembling hands on us to ease our burns.
And me… I was fighting my own mirages.
The desert wasn't just a physical enemy.
It was a maze of visions.
Sometimes, I thought I saw water shining between the dunes, but it was just sand.
Sometimes, I thought I heard voices, far away, familiar. My mother's voice, Simon's.
But when I turned around, there was nothing.
On the evening of the second day, we set up camp behind a dune. The wind was howling, throwing waves of sand into our faces.
Elias planted his sword into the ground.
Asha did the same with her halberd.
Lyra was praying quietly.
Dorian, despite everything, gave a tired smile.
— You know what's worse than this desert? he asked.
— What? I muttered.
— The fact that we still have to survive another mission after this.
Silence. Then, despite ourselves, a nervous laugh. Even Asha smiled — small, but real.
But that night, as I closed my eyes, I knew it.
Something was watching us.
My instinct had sharpened.
And the desert had its own monsters.
The sun had barely risen, and it was already crushing us with its weight.
The sand burned under our feet, getting into our boots, our throats, our thoughts.
Every breath was a burn. Every step was a fight.
We were nothing more than five fragile shadows, lost in an ocean of gold and ash.
Elias walked in front, lips cracked, eyes fixed on the invisible horizon.
Asha moved forward without slowing down, like the desert didn't even deserve her hatred.
Lyra stumbled often, but always got back up, her trembling hands gripping her staff.
Dorian complained at every step, but his voice, even broken, was still something we could follow.
And me… I felt the fracture inside me vibrating stronger than ever. Like the desert was trying to expose it.
Then came the mirages.
At first, simple images: fake water, shadows of buried villages. We closed our eyes to resist.
But soon… they changed.
Elias suddenly stopped, sword in hand.
— Father…?
His eyes were fixed on the sand. We saw nothing. But his eyes were shaking.
— No… I won't fail…
Lyra placed a hand on his arm to bring him back. Her eyes were wet. Maybe she was seeing the faces of the ones she couldn't save.
Asha kept walking forward, fists clenched.
— That's not you. You're not real.
Her voice was filled with anger.
Dorian suddenly stopped, his smile gone.
— Mom…?
His voice broke. Then he clenched his teeth, shook his head and spat.
— Go to hell.
He started walking again. His laugh came back. Empty.
And me…
I saw my mother.
Not a blurry illusion. She was there. Her eyes full of disdain. Her mouth spitting the same poison as that night at the hospital.
— You should've just died, useless piece of shit with no future…
The sand vibrated around her. Her face twisted, ugly, mocking.
I clenched my fists.
The fracture exploded in my chest. Red and gold cracks tore through the air for a moment.
— You're nothing, I spat. Nothing anymore.
And the illusion disappeared.
When we all regrouped, silence fell. No one dared to say what they saw.
But our looks were enough.
The desert didn't just break our bodies.
It wanted our souls.
That evening, in the distance, a shape appeared.
An old resonance site.
Black columns rose from the sand, broken, like the bones of a buried empire. Around them, fragments of blue crystal glowed faintly, beating like sleeping hearts.
— We're here, Elias said, out of breath.
But another figure was already waiting for us.
Kael Theryn.
His bare chest was shining with sweat. His muscles were swollen with the power of his Thorne, his eyes glowing with a strange light, his claws shining in the sun.
He was smiling.
— Well, well… look who's here!!
His voice growled like a beast.
I understood the test.
The crystals, the markers… some had to defend the area, others to conquer it.
And of course… I had to run into him.
Great.
— I've been waiting for this, Vongold.
Elias stepped in front of me, but Kael ignored him.
— Not you, Korvain. I'm talking to the ghost hiding behind.
He pointed at me.
I felt my allies tense around me. But deep down… I knew this fight was mine.
It was childish, but ever since the day he knocked over my bowl, I had wanted to punch his face.
My Thorne agreed.
My blades were already impatient, ready to sink their fangs into a new beast.
My first duel against an heir from a Top 10 Great House.
And this time…
it wasn't about surviving anymore.
It was about breaking past the limits the world tried to put on me.