Wisps: Recollection (Ninjago X Reader)

71. This Time, You...

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Sand whorled by, rolling those tiny particles into dust. Which stuck to the sweat of your skin from the arid heat. '...it's been like three days. Was I that delirious I couldn't remember the last time's trip?' You're glad it wasn't summer. Everything metal would torch your skin just skimming it. You weren't suffering as much with your metal arm, though it was a bit sore. You ended up with a blister or two because it was so damn sweaty. 'Start of spring my ass.' You wiped at your forehead, pressing on the dizzying headache, your heart pumping the blood harder like it wanted to burst out the liquid. 'Hope not.' You fixed the new gauze back over, checking the back of your hot head. 'A small cut, like she said.' Everything else still shot fresh agony whenever you moved wrong. 'Deal with it. You always do.' But... you don't want to. You want to rest. '...We're almost there. We passed that shitty canyon.' You reassured yourself. In a couple hours, you'll feel the cool, ocean breeze feathering over you. But it's also the longest stretch of time, kindling a wish that it would be over and you're there...

At least that was what you were thinking before. You still had that ring. You were tempted, for a while in the palace, to leave it somewhere to get lost. Again, you thought about dropping it to the cool sand dunes during those lost nights. Now, you wondered about letting it sink to the ocean.

Either way, whatever you did wouldn't get rid of remorse.

'...it had to be that place.' Metal toughened on the throttle, pushing it further on the blistering, cracked asphalt. Flashes of sparse greenery rooting through indurated Earth, the sky up ahead more clouded and gray than it once was. All those elements made it feel like time sprinted faster. 'A storm too?' With how the winds hurled against you now, they were heading north west up the Desert of Doom, taking the flickering clouds. '...wouldn't mind a little rain.'

That would ruin your bandages if the sweat didn't already.

You cursed out into the wasteland, the roaring engine overtaking it. There's a pop in your ears with a tiny ring, hitting the back of your head. You mocked her advice as if Mystake would hear, "Stick with them, they've decided– it's so fucking simple! When has that ever worked out for..." More than once now. You can't lie about that. When you're doing this on your own accord. You slumped forward, a stabbing pain screwing your mouth shut. As you should. '...I'm going around in circles.'

When so much of you wants to stop, reach out and take it.

***

Rickety thuds creak on the planks, dispersing from their beams into the ocean. Each spring of wood against the soles of your feet would be heartening for anyone else. But like the sticking-out nails in these wooden panels, they're quick to be singled out in the crowd. A few cast glances at you. Creeping to a slow walk, practically hugging the edges of the street, you tried to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible. You decided to zip the jacket all the way, wrinkling your nose. The humid, salt air wafted your smell back at you. Blood, sweat, the whole nasty stench. You got over your hesitation with a clenched fist. "I'm looking for someone."

"Um, sure, who?" And your throat goes completely dry and barren. "Hello?"

"Never mind."

"Okay?" The villager slipped into a group of passersby, weirded out. You slumped to the wall of a rebuilt storefront.