Eventide Scriptures I - The Shattering of an Era

Chapter 17 - The Trial of the Sun and Sand

Eiran lay sprawled on the streets of Fhon. The stones scorched his skin, with the hot air seeping into his ears and nose from their cracks. Fire and destruction, alongside columns of black smoke, darkened the sky.

He attempted to lift his arm but could not. His legs and arms seemed glued to the ground. His entire body was akin to a bird trapped in tree sap.

His nose could not detect any scent. There was no smell of fire, smoke, or anything. One ear was silent as if it were not there. His ribs ached with every breath he took, forcing him to hold his breath for extended periods. Only his eyes obeyed him, and upon glancing at his body, he realized the severity of his wounds.

His vision grew dimmer. However, before everything turned dark, footsteps approached from the side of his functioning ear. A male figure. He did not recognize him. The man's face was gaunt, with prominent cheekbones and pale, thin lips, and light grey eyes.

He spoke something, his pale thin lips moving.

Then he smiled.

***

A sharp pain twinged in Eiran's crown as he inhaled the sea water. He coughed, trying to stand but only managed to kneel with his hands in the sand, coughing up more water.

The last thing he remembered was Sciast unleashing his technique at close range. He was thrown into the sea and remembered nothing more. Had he blocked the technique? It seemed impossible, but he was alive.

Taking his time, Eiran rose. His training had accustomed him to waking up with a sore body, which helped him bear the pain. He found himself on the border between sea and desert. Behind him was an expanse of water, and ahead, endless sand. It was the simplest landscape he had ever seen.

Wind howled in both ears. His first desire was for fresh water. He walked along the shore but found no natural source. He could dig in the sand and wait for fresh water to accumulate, but after consideration, he decided against it.

Waiting for water might take a long time depending on luck, and could utterly fail. Without water, gathering foods was pointless as eating would only hasten dehydration. Even with food, without fuel, he could not cook.

Although passive Prana Decima usually could eat raw food without worry, he had not reached that stage. He could manipulate Prana flow but not yet forming Constellation. Having diarrhea in the desert would be akin to excreting his own life.

Nevertheless, it was better to maintain his current condition. Eiran had to think long-term as he did not know how long this situation would last.

The sun was almost set as he searched for water. Entering the desert meant traveling before his condition worsened. But which direction? Everything looked the same. Every direction led to death.

The evening sun cast long shadows in the desert. That was when he spotted a half-buried animal carcass. Approaching it, he also found dry animal droppings leading to somewhere. He could follow them to their drinking spot or a village. Perhaps he might encounter a caravan.

Eiran weighed the choice between surviving here or risking everything by entering the desert. It was a tough decision, but in the end, he chose the desert.

His shoes sank as he climbed his first sand dune. He walked on the windward side to avoid the sand blown by the wind. The evening sky had turned dark blue and purple, studded with stars. The first quarter moon provided barely enough light to avoid ravines and valleys.

Without anything, ensuring his position was impossible. He did not know the southern stars, but a few could serve as guides. He had no idea what obstacles lay ahead, so he could only walk straight, unable to heed an adage he heard somewhere that in the desert, one should choose the easiest route rather than the shortest.