The Mayaware's reign must end.
In a world of demonic beings with a hunger for human flesh and thirst for blood, Hesi Renen knows it well. When her siblings are taken to the harvesting farms, she must do everything she can to get them out, even if it...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The shadows were Hesi's only friends on this ridiculous journey. Another fortress appeared on the horizon west of the breeding farm, tucked between natural rock formations. Unlike the sandy expanse of Ser-Methon, the edges of Iren-Washep stood like and on stone. This was the empire established by demons from the conquered territories, Ser-Tehra and Ser-Djare, and after less than a decade, not a trace of human civilization remained.
She flattened herself against the smooth wall, peering through the pockets of space, punching through the rock. A new deshet branch sprouted from the lip of her satchel—the only salvation to never fail her. She discovered a cavern in higher ground by chance when the cart and its escorts entered the canyon. Instead of following them, she tackled the rockier but more inclined path.
Her theory was right. Now, she watched like a hawk hungry for its prey from a tunnel-like path carved through the rocks by eons of wind and heat. She didn't have to worry about covering her tracks. The Mayaware weren't familiar with this terrain, nor would they start. They wouldn't find her.
She crept forward as she had been doing for the last five days. It was a long journey on foot, especially if she was supposed to be following a mule-drawn cart. The Mayaware escorts—three in total—took longer to tire, so repose only came every day and a half. Sometimes they traveled the entire night, throwing her sleep schedule into disarray. Not that she had one since childhood.
The dust lining the tunnel's floor crunched against her boots. She never walked this far before. Would her soles give out soon? Where in Qer's name would she get another pair? No human merchants would dare trade near Setene, much less Berheqt.
She'd take the chance when it came. For now, as long as the soles stayed intact, she would walk. The fortress wasn't far off now. They—the cart, its escorts, and her—would come upon it soon. Tomorrow, perhaps. She had to be ready. If these scalebrains puckered up for the night, she would be the happiest person on Tjarma.
They didn't.
The sun set hours ago, plunging the sky into a deep inky blanket. Stars, unbridled by torches and lanterns, shone without worry. Constellations she never knew the names of watched over her. She would love them to guide her, but stargazing was a lost art to humans. They were busy for the past few years to bring it back. It was a habit of the secure.
She gulped what remained of her saliva. Her throat itched and scratched against it, making her wince. Her water skin dried up this morning. She lived off drinking the sap of the yellow stalks growing on the rocks. It was too sweet for her taste, but it kept her alive. Her stomach rumbled, bile rising to her throat enough to make her nauseous. The fluctuating heat and cold of the desert depending on the sun's presence didn't help.
It was a miracle she hasn't dropped dead yet.
But, according to another survival rule, use everything you can to not die, even if it means hurting another life. Of course, it didn't apply to humans—she drew the line there—but now, if it came to that, she wouldn't let it hold her back. She had siblings to save. Everything else could be damned.
