Astel walked through the hot desert in an unknown direction. He had already distanced himself from the caravan so far that it had become nothing more than a haze in the distance. So far, he had found nothing—no signs of life anywhere for thousands of steps.
"What the hell does he expect me to find out here?" he muttered aloud, aiming his question at the voice in his head that had been suspiciously quiet.
He waited a few moments, hoping for a response.
Nothing.
He looked back toward the caravan and sighed.
He hated the idea of returning empty-handed, but Severin had said they'd only be stopped for a couple of hours. By Astel's estimate—based on hunger and fatigue—it had been nearly seven.
His time was running out, so he started walking back. He didn't want to be left alone again—not this time.
"I wonder what happened for you to be so quiet," Astel said, pouting as he kicked at the sand in frustration.
He was about halfway back to the caravan, scanning in all directions, trying to find something—anything—that he could bring back. No luck.
Then, suddenly, a voice rang out in his mind.
"Stop!"
Without thinking, Astel halted, crouching slightly, holding his breath as if preparing for combat. The sand shifted beneath him. Moments passed until the motion stilled.
He looked around, then fell to his knees, gasping. "What the hell? What's wrong with you? You don't talk to me for hours, refuse to answer any of my questions, and now you do this? I'm so lightheaded I could die."
He didn't expect an answer—but one came.
"Would you shut up already? I just saved our life. Instead of complaining, you should be thanking me, you fool."
The voice sounded oddly relieved. The difference in tone from its usual angry, arrogant self left Astel speechless.
He blinked a few times before finding his words. "What? What are you talking about? There's nothing here."
He looked around frantically, twisting his head in all directions.
"You're looking wrong. Fucking hell, weren't you taught anything? I'm a part of you, and even I'm wondering how you can be so stupid. I completely agree with that creepy Severin guy from before—it's a wonder you've survived this long."
The voice sounded angrier than usual, yet Astel couldn't help but smile.
"What the fuck are you smiling for, you brain-damaged orphan?"
The words stung a bit, but Astel's smile didn't waver.
"You're finally talking to me again. Why wouldn't I smile?"
The voice stirred in his mind, as if it were facepalming.
"Who said I'm talking to you, brat?"
Astel laughed. "Who else is there to talk to?"
The voice stirred again, this time with a shake of disapproval.
Astel stood, preparing to walk again, when his eyes caught something glinting in the distance. The shifting sand had revealed a shiny object. His fading smile returned—this time twisting into a greedy grin.
"See that? That's my prize," he said, laughing almost maniacally as he pointed toward the glint. The voice didn't respond.
He ran toward the object as fast as he could, hoping to reach it before the shifting sand buried it again.
As he got closer, he noticed dry, solid nuggets of sand—similar to those that formed when he poured water on the bright surface. These were different somehow. Astel already suspected what caused them, but he needed to get closer.
Following the trail, he arrived at the object. It looked like a giant shell, split down the middle by a massive crack. He circled around to inspect the other side—only to find an empty hole. The inside of the shell was coated in a slimy, foul-smelling liquid.
"Ugh, that smells horrible. What the hell?"
"I think that's a conch," the voice replied. "You know, like the ones found at the beach."
Astel raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you know that? And what's a beach?"
The voice went silent for a moment.
"Never mind. You're too stupid to understand anyway."
Astel leaned on the shell with one hand, peering inside with his nose covered. The confusion from the voice's remark made him lose focus—his hand slipped, and he fell inside.
Covered in the smelly liquid, Astel gagged—but then noticed something odd. His skin felt… cool. Even more so than in the cave. The cold sensation nearly distracted him from the stench and the fact that he was now drenched in something unknown.
He tried to stand, slipped again, and eventually managed to crawl out, stepping into the light.
Surprisingly, the liquid didn't evaporate. It tickled slightly, but his skin remained cool.
"This is amazing! If only it didn't smell so awful," Astel muttered as he wiped the slime from his face.
He considered bringing it back to the caravan, but it was too large—and he was probably short on time. After thinking for a moment, he tore off another piece of his clothing, revealing his legs up to his knees. He used the fabric to make another makeshift bag and gathered as much of the slime as he could before tying the bag around his waist.
Satisfied, he turned back toward the caravan—now much closer—and noticed they had already packed up and started moving.
Without hesitation, he started running.
*
A few hours later, he reached the main carriage and climbed onto it, knocking on the wooden door.
"Come in," a voice called from inside.
Astel turned the handle and opened the door.
"You're late," Severin said, scolding him. He got up from his table and walked over. "It's good to have you back. For a moment, I thought you'd ditched us."
He laughed and patted Astel on the shoulder.
"Now let's see what you brought us."
He waited for Astel to present something, but Astel only shrugged.
"There was nothing out there."
Severin's eyes lingered on the torn pants and the new bag tied around Astel's waist. He nodded slightly.
"That's a shame."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed that Astel's skin seemed smoother than before.
"No matter. You can ask a question anyway. First one should be a freebie."
He gave Astel a faint smile.
"What about dinner? Isn't everyone hungry?" Astel asked, confused.
As the words left his mouth he noticed a wooden plate with leftover meat on it.
"Oh, that?" Severin said casually. "Don't worry, we still have some supplies. Would you like some?"
Astel gave him a puzzled look. "Then why did you send me to find food?"
Severin looked at him, amused. "Is that your question?"
Astel froze. His eyes widened.
"I'm just messing with you," Severin laughed. "You see, supplies aren't endless, and I needed you to pull your weight. Aside from me, you're the only one who can actually battle the beasts hiding out there and gather food."
He said it matter-of-factly.
Astel looked at him with interest. "Are you good at fighting?"
Severin raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
Astel hesitated, feeling slightly threatened. He laughed nervously. "I was just wondering how you've been able to protect these people." He paused. "Who are they, anyway?"
Severin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pointed at one of the chairs in the room.
"Have a seat."
They both sat down, and Severin began to explain.
"These people are refugees... lost souls, we call them. I imagine you know how they got here. I'm helping them reach a sanctuary—a safe place in the mountains."
Astel's eyes lit up. "Sanctuary?"
Severin held up a finger, silently asking if that was Astel's question. Astel nodded in understanding.
Severin lowered his hand. "You can go with us. I don't mind. But you'll have to help me take care of these lost souls."
Astel nodded enthusiastically. "I'll do what I can."
Severin smiled and extended his hand. "We're partners, then."
Astel hesitated for a moment looking into Severin's eyes.
He shook his hand. "Partners sounds nice, Severin. Much better than prisoner," he said, laughing.
"You can call me Sev," Severin replied with a small chuckle.